Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

            “Really, I’m fine,” said Akira. “You can stop worrying, (Y/N).”

            (Y/N) watched as her friend repolished the same glass for a fifth time. “Yeah…Sure.”

            “I’m totally fine. I’m just restless since I haven’t had any fun work recently,” continued Akira. “I don’t think about Chu—him at all.”

            (Y/N) raised an eyebrow.

            “Okay…maybe from time to time. But it’s no big deal. I’m doing fine,” said Akira.

            “So you keep saying, but I still think you’re lying,” insisted (Y/N). Her eyes softened. “I’ve seen the hat. You kept it.”

            Akira eyes fell to the ground. “I just…I just need to get back to work. That’s all.” She switched back to her usual attitude. “Speaking of which, I need to prepare for happy hour. Always get good business then.”

            (Y/N) sighed. “Fine. But this isn’t over,” she warned.

            “Just bring me any interesting work you get,” said Akira.

            (Y/N) reluctantly stood up as her phone lit up with a message from Kunikida telling her to come to a meeting. “I will, but please…think about what you need. It’s okay to have feelings.”

            Akira just returned to polishing.

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            (Y/N) walked into the Agency and headed towards the meeting room.

            “(Y/N)!” chirped Dazai, hugging her from behind. He pecked her on the cheek. “You’ve arrived!”

            (Y/N) smiled and turned around in his arms so she was facing him. “You have a lot of energy,” she teased.

            “I’m going out to have fun,” said Dazai.

            “We have a meeting,” she reminded him.

            “Bo-ring. And you’ll fill me in!” said Dazai.

            “If you listen,” said (Y/N).

            “I always listen to you.” Dazai looked into her eyes adoringly.

            (Y/N) blushed. “I-I’ve got to get to the meeting. Have fun skipping.”

            “Will do.”

            Dazai leaned in and kissed her. (Y/N) closed her eyes and enjoyed the moment, even though a burdening feeling clenched her heart. Afterwards, Dazai squeezed her hand and began to walk away.

            “Dazai,” called (Y/N).

            He turned back to her curiously.

            “I love you.” She wasn’t sure why, but it felt important to say it then. That same heaviness she felt during the kiss was still there.

            Dazai smiled. “I love you, too.” He said it with none of his usual pomp and circumstance. It was totally serious and full of emotions. With those words, he was out the door, reading to avoid another day of work.

            (Y/N) walked into the meeting room and nodded to Kunikida in greeting as she sat down and opened the file in front of her. She was glad Kunikida was back. After the little girl died because of Fyodor’s manipulation, he had been held under suspicion of murder until all of the evidence showed he was innocent. It had worried the Agency for a bit, but luckily, it blew over. Additionally, they were concerned about (Y/N) being suspected, but because she was kidnapped, she was acquitted of suspicion.

            (Y/N) focused on the file. It was on several murders that occurred in the last week, probably conducted by a group of individuals.

            “A murder society?” asked Yosano, the first to speak.

            “Yeah. It’s an emergency request from the government,” said Kunikida. “First, look at these photos of the victims.” He attached the photo of a man who had been skinned to the board.

            “Oh, god,” murmured (Y/N).

            “That’s terrible,” breathed Atsushi.

            “He was a young Diet member from Yokohama. He left a session midway only yo be found five minutes later in this state,” explained Kunikida. “As you can see, his skin was removed from the waist up and then placed back on inside out. This skin was sewn together like a business shirt, complete with a tie and cuffs. Based on the throat lacerations and restraint marks, the victim was alive for the flaying…likely screaming his head off.”

            “Talk about bad taste,” muttered Yosano.

            “That’s horrible,” murmured (Y/N). “To be alive during something like that…”

            “The perp has carried out four murders this week,” said Kunikida.

            “Four?!” cried Jun’ichiro.

            (Y/N)’s eyes widened. She could hardly imagine how gory the other deaths must have been.

            “The vice-commander of the coast guard had a corrosive poison poured over his head that melted his skins and bones. He died of shock from intense pain,” continued Kunikida. “The secretary of the government’s chief of international public safety had an air compressor hose inserted into his mouth, and the high-pressure air blasted the blood and nerves out of his pores. Finally, a top-level officer in the military police’s special-ability crime unit was injected with a painful south American plant called ‘suicide weed’ and left in a locked room. He scratched at his skin down to the bones and died from cerebral contusion after having bashed his head against the wall.”

            Definitely wasn’t picturing that…thought (Y/N).

            “I see…so it’s a message from the Decay of the Angel,” said Ranpo.

            The corners of (YN)’s mouth twitched into a frown at the word “angel.” After the ordeal with Fyodor, she couldn’t quite face it as she used to. Now, whenever (Y/N) heard it, she could hear him saying it.

            “ ‘The Decay of the Angel?’ ” asked Atsushi.

            “The ‘Decay of the Angel.’ It refers to the five signs of decline within the devas or beings who reside in the highest realm of existence,” explained Fukuzawa, appearing in the meeting room.

            “President,” greeted the Agency members politely.

            “Sign one, ‘soiled dress’—clothes that emit an oily filth. Sign two, a ‘wilted flower crown’—the fading a rotting of the wreath on the head. Sign three, ‘malodor’—an evil stench from the body. Sign four, ‘sudor’—sweating under the armpits,” explained Fukuzawa.

            The young Diet member, the vice-commander of the coast guard, the secretary of the government’s chief of international public safety, and the office from the military police’s special-ability crime, respectively, thought (Y/N) as each sign was announced.

            “So…all these flashy, bizarre crimes allude to that?” asked Jun’ichiro.

            “Wait…if there are five signs, then—!” (Y/N) looked up in alarm.

            “Right,” said Kunikida.

            “The fifth sign—the ‘wretched seat’— hasn’t occurred yet,” said Fukuzawa.

            “Then the killer will strike one more time?!” cried Atsushi.

            “They will not.” Fukuzawa looked at the detectives seriously. “Why? Because we are going to stop them. We must bind together as one to stop this heinous group’s plans.”

            “I don’t think so,” said Ranpo grimly.

            “Ranpo…state your reason,” said Fukuzawa.

            “My friend’s last words.” Ranpo could recall perfectly the foreboding prediction his friend had made. This was undoubtedly the large mission that would destroy them all. “I’m turning this job down.” Ranpo was deadly serious.

            (Y/N) bit her lip. I trust Ranpo’s judgement. He sees what we cannot. But…I want to help people, no matter the cost to myself.

            “Ranpo. Did you see the birch bow in my office? It’s a once-in-a-century honor for keepers of the peace,” said Fukuzawa, frowning at Ranpo’s words.

            “So we have to take this because some guy gave us a bow?” Ranpo scoffed. “No. That bow…is merely a piece of wood.”

            His statement shocked his colleagues.

            “To us, praise and rewards are a light drizzle. Even if we were underground thieves with no honor, we must stake our lives to prevent this murder,” declared Fukuzawa.

            Ranpo slammed his fists down on the table as he stood. “Fine! Do whatever you want!” he yelled, turning on his heel and leaving the room.

            Whatever he thinks is going to happen must be really terrible if he’s lashing out at the president, thought (Y/N). It certainly doesn’t bode well…

            “Ranpo!” exclaimed Kunikida.

            “Leave him be, Kunikida,” said the silver-haired man. “The Agency will pursue the killer, and Ranpo will investigate the Agency’s potential destruction. Even Ranpo knows a two-pronged approach is best.”

            Kunikida nodded. “We all need to start looking into possible targets and suspects in the killing.”

            If solving this case efficiently can help the Agency, then I’ll work my hardest. (Y/N) was determined to succeed.

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            “All right. Call me when you have any information. Bye, Akira.” (Y/N) ended the phone call. Akira was excited to be getting some work. She’s still trying to distract herself…

“It must be nice to have a contact,” said Atsushi, walking alongside her. “Even if she can be kind of scary…” Atsushi sweat-dropped as he recalled the Mukurotoride incident.

(Y/N) chuckled at his reaction before taking out her phone again as it began to ring. “Hello?”

            “It’s Ango from the Special Division. I can’t contact Dazai. Do you know where he is?”

            “No, I don’t,” said (Y/N), frowning. I hope Dazai hasn’t gotten himself into trouble… She motioned for Atsushi to come closer so he could listen to. This was obviously important.

            “Then tell this to everyone at the Agency—We have evidence that someone within the government altered the security details and work schedules of all the murder victims on the days they were killed,” said Ango grimly.

            Atsushi and (Y/N)’s eyes widened in alarm.

            “The killers are part of the government?” questioned (Y/N), furrowing her brow. This certainly makes things more complicated.

            “That…or given the lack of leads despite our best efforts, the Decay of the Angel may be a front for some government group,” said Ango. “Either way, be careful.” He hung up.

            Atsushi opened his mouth to speak, but suddenly a voice said, “Hello there!” An older man with glasses and a suit stood in front of them.

            “You’re from the Ministry of Justice…” Atsushi recognized him from when Fukuzawa had received the birch bow.

            “You two are members of the Agency, yes? You must be tired, working on a Sunday like this,” said the man. “How is the ‘Decay of the Angel’ investigation going?”

            Something about his tone and smile put (Y/N) immediately on edge.

            “We’re working through some—,” Atsushi started.

            (Y/N) cut him off. “No leads so far, but I assure you we’re doing our best.” Best not to let any government official know anything we’re up to.

            “Oh, what a shame. Who were you talking to?” asked the official.

            “My boyfriend. He’s trying to surprise me with a gift I’d like, but he’s not being very sneaky about find out what I want,” said (Y/N) jokingly. “What are you doing out here in the city? Isn’t it dangerous right now?”

            “Oh, I was just over there enjoying my coffee until I saw you.” He gestured to some tables outside a café. “I thought I’d ask about how the Agency was coming along.”

            There is no coffee cup on any of the tables…He’s lying. (Y/N) kept a smile on her face but glanced over at Atsushi. She could see he was on edge as well but not hiding it as well as she did.

            “What is it?” asked the official.

            “He’s just concerned about the case, of course. The stress can get to us. Speaking of which, we should be getting back to work,” said (Y/N), grabbing Atsushi’s arm and steering him away quickly.

            “(Y/N), he was lying!” whispered Atsushi urgently. “I smelled no coffee on him.”

            “I know, we need to get back to the Agency. I have a bad feeling…” (Y/N) bit her lip and hurried onward. No matter how fast she was, however, she couldn’t escape the sinking feeling in her stomach. And she wouldn’t be able to escape what would happen next.

Chapter Text

            The detectives were gathered around a computer to watch a video that had been sent to them. On the screen, there was a man with long braided hair and mismatched clothing on a throne. Below him were people in white robes with obscured faces holding guns. They were holding several gagged and tied people hostage.

            “Hello! I hope you are having a fine day so far people of the Agency!” said the leader. “I have four things to tell you! First! I’m using these wacky machines to hold these fancy government guys! We’ve got the ‘chainsaw a man in half’ magic show, minus the magic. When the time comes—Chop! —sitting down will sure be a pain!”

            “ ‘The wretched seat,’ ” breathed (Y/N).

            “Second! If anyone aside from the Agency members butts in, I’ll start the chainsaws at once! Why? Because this is meant to test you! No contacting the police or military police other!” continued the man. “Third! The chainsaws will rev up at 1800 hours sharp! And fourth!” He paused and then began to laugh. “Crap! I just realized there is no fourth! Er, now what?!” He turned to one of his associates.

            “No,” said the person in white.

            “Argh! This is a mess! Shut off the camera!” said the leader.

            With that, the video ended, leaving the Agency to stare at the screen in concern. The address of the place with the hostages was the only thing left on the computer.

            “We only have half an hour,” said (Y/N) in alarm.

            “We must hurry, then,” said Kunikida. “Atsushi, you go in first and stop the timing advice.”

            “Right!” Atsushi was gone in an instant.

            “Jun’ichiro, grab the car!” ordered Kunikida.

            In a few minutes, the Agency was piled into the car and driving quickly into the woods. (Y/N)’s phone rang. It was Akira.

            “Yeah! Any information?” (Y/N) was hoping she had helpful knowledge.

            “Some clown guy named Gogol might be involved. He apparently has some freaky ability, so be on guard,” said Akira.

            “Gogol, ability. Got it. Thanks,” said (Y/N) hurriedly, making sure the others heard.

            “Are you okay?” Akira could hear the anxiety in (Y/N)’s voice.

            “I’m fine, but I’ve gotta go.” (Y/N) hung up before Akira could get out another word. Little did she know that Akira was already closing up shop to figure out what was going on and how she could help her friend. (Y/N) was also tempted to contact Dazai but knew there was no time.

            “It makes sense that an ability user would be involved,” growled Kunikida.

            Jun’ichiro screeched to a halt at a large house.

            “How are we on time?!” demanded Kunikida as they ran toward the building.

            “Five minutes left!” cried Jun’ichiro.

            (Y/N) could see that the military police were coming up the mountain. Shit!

            “Kenji! Keep the MPs at bay! They’ll kill the hostages if anyone beside the Agency members goes in! Everyone else, follow me!” ordered Kunikida.

            Quietly but quickly, the Agency got into position outside the room containing the hostages and enemies. They could hear talking, mostly Gogol taunting some government official, who (Y/N) recognized as the man from earlier in the day. He was being allowed to call the military police.

            People don’t let their hostages talk freely with potential help without some plan. I have a bad feeling about this…but what can I do other than keep fighting? There are people in there who could die.

            “The hostages are on the other side. But I’m sure the enemy’s anticipating an assault,” said Jun’ichiro quietly.

            “We can counter that,” said Kunikida. He used his ability quickly and held up a small grenade. “We’ll break down the door with (Y/N)’s ability and throw this sonic grenade in. It’ll be a feint. At the same time, our demon will cut through the rear wall and take the heads of all hostiles from behind.” Kunikida grimaced. “A frontal skill-based battle will kill the hostages. This is the only way to do it.”

            “All right…let’s do it,” said (Y/N).

            Inside the room, Gogol smirked. He couldn’t hear anything going on, but…it was set up perfectly. The official on the call, the hostages, the masked hostiles, everything.

            “It’s time, men!” chirped Gogol. “Push the chainsaw button!”

            “Stop! We still have a few minutes left to six!” cried the government man.

            “Nope. We’re right on time,” said Gogol slyly. “In addition…”

“ ‘Everyone, remove your hoods,’ said the young man,” wrote a shadow far away.

            (Y/N) blinked and suddenly found herself in a world of pain. Her ability automatically activated itself in instinctual protection. It crushed the chainsaw trying to bore its way into her side. She was bound to a chair with a blindfold around her neck. Her friends, wearing white robes, stood around her and pushing the button that started the weapons. Dead officials lay around her.

            What the hell? We were just outside in the hall…How am I a hostage? And Gogol is too… And my friends are the enemies? Oh, god…what just happened?! “You’re with the enemy…Why are you tied up?” (Y/N) was beginning to panic.

            Yosano quickly moved over to try to untie (Y/N) as Gogol began to speak.

            “You Agency people are living testaments to justice. Frankly, your sparkle mesmerizes me,” he said. “The Decay of the Angel’s plan is the true embodiment of evil. But…that’s what makes it worth assisting in!” Gogol ‘s body split in half. His top fell to the floor, but somehow… he continued speaking.

            Yosano froze with the rest of the Agency. (Y/N)’s eyes widened in horror. She flinched as she felt the searing pain in her side flare up again.

            “It’s time to break out of this prison! The inherent brainwashing we call morality! I seek freedom for my soul more than any kind of joy!” cried Gogol insanely. “So listen to the screams of my own free will!” He took a deep breath, and his face became one of pain and fear. “No! I don’t want to die! Mr. Tonan, help me!” His terrified eyes landed on the old man who had the phone. “It hurts! It hurts so much! Help me! C-Call for help! Tell them who the evildoers are!!” Blood sprayed from his wounds, but he just wouldn’t die.

            “Get all your forces in here!” cried Tonan into the phone to the military police. “I’ve uncovered the enemy’s identity! I saw them do it myself! They got my secretary and tried to kill one of their own! The name of the killer is…”

            “Kunikida!” Ranpo’s voice came over Kunikida’s phone. “Get out of there now! ‘A wretched seat’ means we’ll be miserable returning to our seats at the Agency! The Decay of the Angel is…”

            In one moment, both Ranpo and Tonan said the same four words. “…the Armed Detective Agency!”

            Yosano ripped through the final bits of rope around (Y/N)’s wrists. The detectives bolted from the room.

            “Shit. This is bad,” said (Y/N), pressing her hand to her wound. Luckily, her ability stopped the chainsaw before it did too much damage. Still, it was bleeding and painful.

            “Let’s turn ourselves in! We’re innocent!” cried Jun’ichiro desperately. “Once they investigate, I’m sure they’ll—.”

            “It’s no use.” Ranpo voice came from Kunikida’s phone again.

            “Ranpo! You’re okay?!” cried his friends in relief.

            “I took off after stopping Chief Taneda’s bleeding,” said Ranpo.

            He’s getting framed for something, too…realized (Y/N).

            “He might testify for us if he comes to, but I doubt that’ll happen,” said Ranpo.

            “Why now?” asked Jun’ichiro.

            “The chief said a skill user might’ve made the ‘book,’ but I don’t think so. It was created by something else…something beyond our abilities,” said the brown-haired detective. “As proof, remember how Mushitarou could alter reality but not people’s memories? Well, the latter is what’s happening now.”

            “True,” said Kyouka.

            (Y/N) frowned but nodded. “I have memories of you guys taking myself and others hostage before killing us. Or, in my case, trying to.” I wasn’t turned into a killer…Oh, god…What if Fyodor’s involved?

            “Vice-Minister Tonan was also there,” said Kunikida grimly. “As a hostage, he witnessed the entire situation but still declared us the evildoers.”

            “What happens if we’re caught?” asked (Y/N).

            “The government has a mind-reading ability user. If they indict us, it’ll be the death pen—.” Ranpo’s voice suddenly cut off. For the next few moments, all the Agency could hear was bangs and slams. Finally, the phone cut out after a giant crash could be heard.

            “Ranpo?!” cried Kunikida.

            “No way…Ranpo has to have gotten out of there…” breathed (Y/N). And Atsushi…I hope he’s escaped.

            “He did mention earlier a job that’d end us all. Is this what he was talking about…?” Jun’ichiro spoke shakily.

            The Agency was quiet as they contemplated what was going on. Kunikida suddenly looked up as he finished listening to the small walkie-talkie he created.

            “Watch out!” he cried.

            A small capsule broke through the wall and began spewing gas everywhere. The detectives reacted quickly. Yosano threw them knives and cut herself open. Her colleagues stared for a split second before understand and following suit. They collapsed to the ground. (Y/N) felt her senses dull as her body began to shut down.

            The first words the Agency heard when they came to again was Yosano shouting, “Thou Shalt Not Die Times Five!”

            (Y/N) felt her body stitching itself back together and jumped up. “There’s a Will; There’s a Way!”

She pulled their weapons from their bodies. As a guard approached her unarmed, she spun and kicked him directly in the head. He dropped to the floor. Her associates handled the rest.

            “Let’s put their things on and leave,” said Kunikida.

            Nodding, the group pulled the uniforms on quickly.

            “You’d willingly die just to avoid that gas? What…tenacity…” breathed one of the guards. “But you couldn’t have done it without reading our tactics. How were you able to—?”

            “I can recreate anything I see once with my notebook. And this encrypted walkie-talkie is a tool I’ve used in tandem jobs with the military police numerous times,” said Kunikida. “There was nothing more reassuring than storming sites alongside a well-trained team that carried all the latest toys.” He placed the device down. “You’ll survive if you get help soon. Farewell.”

            As the Agency walked away, the final words they heard were the yells of “Traitors!” Together, they raced through the woods until they were so out of breath that even their stamina could not keep them going.

            “We should be…far enough,” panted Kunikida.

            “There’s no phone coverage,” said Jun’ichiro anxiously.

            “Damn…we can’t get through to Ranpo, Atsushi, Dazai, Naomi, or the president…” muttered (Y/N). If they’re even still free. Whoever wants us out of the way wouldn’t leave out anyone.

            “It’s a digital blockade. A physical one will soon follow,” said Kunikida grimly. “Monitor satellites, sniffer dogs, roadblocks, military drones—you name it. If we run, we’ll be caught. Hide, and we’ll be found. Fight, and we’ll be overwhelmed. Even with our five skills…we can’t do a thing.”

            “Magic wielding heroes always save the land in medieval fantasies, but in this day and age, you can’t beat the latest weapons and a well-organized military,” said Yosano dejectedly.

            “We can’t even know if our friends are okay…” (Y/N) bit her lip nervously. If Dazai is okay…

            “Damn it!” Jun’ichiro slammed his fist into a tree. “I can’t be here! Not when Naomi might be under suspicion!”

            Jun’ichiro, (Y/N), Yosano, Kunikida, and Kyouka were somber and quiet. They weren’t sure what to do; the future seemed bleak. Kenji clapped his hands.

            “Hey guys!” he chirped. “Are any of you hungry?” He smiled as they stared at him. “We’ve been too busy to eat since morning. I stole some rice balls from the kitchen as we fled!”

            Kunikida frowned. “Rice balls…? Look, Kenji, right now we’re—.”

            “On our tenth year in the orchard!” said Kenji.

            “What?” asked (Y/N), tilting her head.

            “Back at my village, we once lost an orchard we’d been growing for ten years to a storm,” explained Kenji. “We’d never harvested any fruit from it, not even once.”

            “My, my. That’s tragic,” said Yosano.

            Kenji grinned. “So what do you think we did?” He received no answer. “Well, we all stood there dumbfounded at first, but then we smiled and started planting some more seedlings. We got ready to redo the past ten years!” He smiled peacefully. “A terrible storm came and wreaked havoc on the Agency, but that’s all right. A disastrous storm, after all, is the same thing as blessed rain.”

            Kunikida looked down sadly. “Yes, but—.”

            Kenji shoved a rice ball into the blonde’s mouth. “I don’t need anything to eat. When I’m full, I can’t bring out all my power.” The sun filtered in through the trees, casting a lovely glow on Kenhi. “But let’s stay alive, everyone. Let’s trudge past the storm and through the night. ‘Cause in the end, we can’t stop living atop this spinning rock we call Earth.”

            “Kenji’s right,” said (Y/N), clenching her fists. “We’ll fight through this storm and rebuild the Agency. We’ll survive!”

            Kunikida, with a new, determined look on his face, stood. “Right!”

            He had found his strength again and was back in business. He pulled out a map that was in the uniform’s pocket. His colleagues gathered around as he began to explain their situation. Before they could make a move, they needed a plan.

            “Like I said, we’re helpless against dogs and satellites. We’ll have to escape their dragnet before then,” explained Kunikida. “Luckily, it’ll take time for them to deploy satellites, dogs, or roadblocks. However, the more time passes, the more people and gear they will have, and the wider their search radius will become. Based on my experience, the radius increases fifty kilometers every hour.”

            “Does that mean we’ll have to escape at a speed faster than that?” asked Yosano. “Fleeing on foot won’t work then.”

            “Right. That’s why it’s crucial we obtain a mode of transport,” said Kunikida. “I can think of two options—to seize a car on the southern highway and escape or blend in with passengers on a train from the northern station. However, we’ll take a car.”

            “Why a car and not the train?” asked Jun’ichiro.

            “Because if the military police find us and it turns into a fight, it may cause a derailment. Many could potentially die. I cannot allow that. Thus, we’re going by car,” said Kunikida.

            “They may think we’re murderers, but we’re not. We’re still the Agency. We want to keep people safe,” said (Y/N), nodding.

            “Very well then.” Yosano smiled. “That suits me fine. And if we all agree, then the sooner we get moving, the better!”

            They ran quickly through the forest until they arrived at the highway.

            “Kenji, you stop a car,” said Kunikida.

            “Right-o!” Kenji jumped into the road and threw his arms out to wait.

            “I want to find Atsushi.” Kyouka spoke up for the first time.

            “We should stick—,” began Kunikida.

            “She should go. There’s a good chance of saving him. And we need to save as many people as possible, including Agency members. We might not know where the president, Naomi, Ranpo, or—” (Y/N) looked down “—Dazai are, but we do know where Atsushi is.”

            Kunikida nodded. “All right. Kyouka, good luck.”

            Kyouka nodded and ran off, soon summoning Demon Snow to carry her faster. Soon, a car with a woman driving came around the highway corner and screeched to a stop. Kunikida walked out and knocked on her window.

            “Ma’am, do you have car theft insurance?” he asked.

            “Huh? N-No…” answered the woman.

            Kunikida bowed. “Ah. Never mind, then. You may go.”

            The woman quickly drove on while Kenji stopped the next car.

            “Do you have car theft insurance, sir?” asked Kunikida.

            “Um, yeah, but why do you ask?” questioned the driver.

            “Oh. Well, congratulations,” said Kunikida. He held up a gun. “On your new purchase.”

            The man quickly got out of the car, and the Agency piled in with Kenji in the back, Jun’ichiro and (Y/N) in the middle, and Yosano and Kunikida in the front row. They were off.

Chapter Text

            “C’mon, step on it,” said Yosano. “Only you would keep to the speed limit at a time like this, Kunikida.”

            “No, it’s not that,” said Kunikida. “We may be out of range, but traffic cops are our enemies as well. We can’t draw any attention.”

            “Then what should we do next?” asked Jun’ichiro.

            “Go undercover and gather intel,” said Kunikida. “Given that, we need to find someone to cover for killers like us.”

            “I can think of one hideout that’s guaranteed to be safe…as much as it pains me to say…” murmured Yosano hesitantly.

            “You can?” asked Kunikida.

            “Where?” chirped Kenji.

            “I’d like to know,” said a new voice from behind (Y/N).

            (Y/N) jolted and turned in her seat. Next to Kenji, a man with pale hair and darkened tips sat formally in a military outfit. His eyes were closed, but (Y/N) had the impression he was not to be underestimated.

            “I hope you don’t mind telling us, too,” said the man. “Hmm, one’s missing. Where did that kimono-wearing girl go?” he mused to himself. “Ah, well. At least I located their hostage.”

            “Whaaat?!” cried the detectives.

            How did he get in here?! thought (Y/N).

            Kenji reacted immediately and punched the man, who quickly caught the attack.

            He counteracted Kenji’s strength!

            The military officer kicked kenji, sending him out the back of the car and breaking off the trunk door.

            “Kenji!” shouted Kunikida.

            “Keep going!” yelled Kenji. “I’ll catch up in a sec!”

            The man snickered. “Self-sacrifice? Such empathy! I could almost cry!” he remarked. “However, my duty comes first.” He pulled (Y/N)’s seat backwards and grabbed her. “Saving the hostage is my prerogative.”

            (Y/N) grabbed the upright seat next to her in an attempt to pull herself up while Jun’ichiro angrily activated his ability. The man was left in a seemingly blank space. However, he held onto (Y/N)’s arm even as Jun’ichiro tackled him out the open trunk. She gasped as she hit the road. However, she managed to twist away from the attacker and grab onto the back of the car. (Y/N) pulled herself back in, even as the vehicle swayed back and forth. Looking back, she could see a dark-haired man in a similar uniform to the blind man. The newcomer pulled out a sword, preparing to slice Jun’ichiro and Kenji. Kunikida turned the car sharply and barreled right into the military men.

            “Not a single soul will be left behind!” shouted Kunikida. “This I swear by my ideals!” He swiftly turned the car around once more. “Kenji! I don’t have time to stop!” He pressed the pedal down.

            “Grab on!” cried (Y/N), stretching out her hand.

            Kenji picked up Jun’ichiro and jumped up to the car, grabbing (Y/N)’s hand and hauling himself and the redhead in.

            “My,” muttered the blind man musingly. “I wonder why she’s helping them…Perhaps it’s some form of Stockholm syndrome.”

            “Damn it!” yelled Kunikida in frustration. “This couldn’t get any worse! Those are the Hunting Dogs—the military police’s ultimate trump card! They’ve been operated on from head to toe by ability users! Their physical abilities are many times greater than a normal human’s! If they catch us again, they’ll demolish the car, and it’ll be over for us!”

            (Y/N)’s eyes widened. She recognized the men now. Akira had once gotten bored and decided to investigate military ability users (and nearly gotten herself discovered in the process). The Hunting Dogs were who she found out, at least, four of the five. The blind one was Jouno Saigiku while the dark-haired man was Tetchou Suehiro. (Y/N) couldn’t remember their abilities, but she was pretty sure that the amazing senses Jouno displayed although blind and sword Tetchou held were probably involved. Sure enough, even though the pair were dots in the distance, the car was suddenly split in half by a blade. (Y/N) and her friends hit the ground hard as the vehicle crashed. Picking her head up, she could see Yosano was injured.

            “Yosano!” cried (Y/N).

            “He slashed me along with the car…” groaned Yosano. “It’s fine. I can heal it with my ability…”

            “You went back to retrieve your friends only to get bitten in return,” said Jouno cruelly. “That’s how the world generally works, I suppose.” He was speaking directly to Kunikida.

            Tetchou struck with his sword again.

            “Jun’ichiro look out!” Kenji lunged to push his friend out of the way. He ended up cut in the stomach while Jun’ichiro was wounded on an arm.

            “No!” cried (Y/N).

            “There is no escaping my sword,” said Tetchou, his eyes piercing his audience.

            Growling angrily, Kunikida pulled out his journal. “Doppo Poet: Stun Gren—.”

            He was cut through the torso. He and his destroyed notebook fell to the floor. A strangled cry appeared in (Y/N)’s throat, but it died quickly. She couldn’t see the sword when it moved; she could not stop it with her ability. She couldn’t even stand as her ankle had twisted in the crash.

            “Now you can’t even use your ability,” said Jouno. “Okay, Tetchou. All foes subdued. Cut off the doctor’s head.”

            The detectives froze. (Y/N)’s fingers twitched, and she gazed intently at Yosano. If she was going to stop the her execution and manage to see the sword, she would have to be very focused.

            “Are you sure?” asked Tetchou.

            “We can’t let her heal her friends,” said Jouno. “That and…she’s the ‘Angel of Death.’ The world will be better off if she’s dead.”

            “How do you…know that name…?” breathed Yosano as Tetchou raised his sword.

            There was a split second of silence before Jouno said, “There’s someone comi—!”

            A motorcycle suddenly roared around the curve of the highway. The rider skidded to a halt and let the bike slide right into the enemy, distracting them for a single moment while they jumped forward and kicked them backwards with superhuman strength.

            “Well, Akiko, you do have quite the reputation in certain circles,” said the rider. Pulling of the helmet, Akira smirked.

            Yosano’s eyes widened. “Akira…”

            (Y/N) grinned but quickly became alarmed as Tetchou recovered and raised his blade. “Watch out!”

            Akira brought out her claws to form a shield in front of herself. However, she was prepared to take serious damage because of Tetchou’s deadly ability. He began to bring down his arm, and she readied herself.

            Bang!

            A bullet, glowing slightly red, fell a supersonic speed from the sky and pierced Tetchou’s shoulder. It embedded itself deep into the ground. Everybody looked up. A helicopter was circling above them.

            “How stupid can you get, Armed Detective Agency?!” shouted Chuuya smugly. “I’m here on the boss’s orders to pick you losers up!”

            “He’s still an asshole…” muttered Akira.

            I’ve never been so glad to see the Port Mafia, thought (Y/N).

            “Here goes! It’s time for a gunfight!” Chuuya sent a storm of bullets down towards the Hunting Dogs. He threw down ropes after. “Now! Grab on!”

            The detectives and Akira grabbed onto the ropes and were pulled up and away. They sat down, most of them clutching various wounds. Akira purposefully sat as far away from Chuuya as she could.

            “This can’t be…” said Kunikida. “The mafia is helping us…?”

            Akira scoffed. “The Port Mafia don’t do things out of the ‘goodness of their hearts.’ They probably made a deal.”

            Chuuya glanced at Akira, wincing inwardly at her disdain. “Your president cut a deal with my boss,” he said, keeping his usual annoyed attitude. “In return for rescuing you…one Agency member will switch over to the Mafia.” He smirked. “Anyone with useful skills is welcome!”

            Akira rolled her eyes and crossed her arms. She had her suspicions on who her father was hoping for.

            “He did that?!” cried the Agency. They were completely shocked.

            “Well…it’s either that or Yosano dies and we all end up in jail while (Y/N) is put in some sort of hospital for thinking we’re still good…” said Jun’ichiro.

            “They already think I’m insane,” murmured (Y/N).

            “If you look at it like that…” said Jun’ichiro.

            “You’re right,” said Kunikida grimly. “Ideals alone can’t save a human life. We need to face reality.”

            “Are you…feeling alright Kunikida?” asked (Y/N).

            “What did Kunikida just say?” murmured Kenji.

            “Did he hit his head on something?” said Jun’ichiro concernedly. “Did he lose it after his real self got cut up?”

            Kunikida sighed and looked up, ready to admonish them when tragedy struck. The edge of a long sword was sticking out through Kenji’s stomach and Akira’s side.

            “Well, shit,” growled Akira.

            The helicopter went higher and pulled Tetchou with it. As it did, the sword slipped out of Akira, only staying in Kenji’s body.

            “They’re stilling coming after us?!” exclaimed (Y/N), ripping a sleeve from her stolen uniform and pressing it to Akira’s side.

            “Aki—!” Chuuya bit back the piece of concern that was about to slip through. Instead, he channeled his emotions to anger at the men outside. “Damn it! Can’t we get rid of these freaks?!”

            A thump sounded on the side of the helicopter as the sword was pulled from Kenji’s stomach. Tetchou was there.

            “Shit! He’s trying to cut down the rotor blades!” growled Chuuya.

            Kunikida stood. “(Y/N).” He walked to the helicopter doors. “Make sure you find the real culprit for me.”

            (Y/N) frowned. “Wha—?”

            “I’m leaving it to you.” Kunikida jumped out and grabbed Tetchou so they both fell to the ground.

            “Kunikida?!” cried the (H/C)-haired detective.

            (Y/N) reached out with both hands to try to catch Kunikida with her gift. She could feel his body in her grasp. Flickers of emerald began to slow his descent, but…the air around he and Tetchou suddenly exploded.

            “Kunikida!” screamed (Y/N). Even with her vision obscured, she tried to hold onto him. She tried to feel his life force in her ability’s grasp. There was nothing. (Y/N) could have used her ability without seeing her target, but as Kunikida was knocked around in the blast, it became too hard to strain herself. If keeping ahold without seeing him was a miracle, then tracking him was utterly impossible. There’s a Will; There’s a Way strengthened for a moment, but (Y/N) couldn’t control it yet.

            She sank back against the floor. She felt absolutely hopeless. Fyodor was probably involved with this level of sophisticated strategy. This time he had truly brought down the Agency. Was this truly the end? The end of the family she found? No…(Y/N) didn’t want to believe that, but…the future seemed bleak. It seemed impossible to fight back against the world. It seemed impossible that anything would be okay.

            “You’re not going to give up yet, are you?”

(Y/N) blinked in surprise as Dazai’s voice was conjured up in her mind. He was not there, but she heard it clearly. And, more importantly, she understood it. (Y/N) clenched her fists, tiny green sparks flying from them. This would not be the end. She would continue fighting. She would save her family. She would survive.

l

            In the Port Mafia infirmary, Akira pulled bandages around her waist. Yosano healed the Agency members, but Akira refused to let the doctor use Thou Shalt Not Die on her. Instead, Akira opted to take care of herself. She wasn’t too badly injured since her ability allowed her to withstand more than the average human. Still, winding bandages around her own waist was difficult. Akira was stubborn, though, and wanted to fix herself up.

            “You’re doing a shit job at that,” said Chuuya, crossing his arms in annoyance.

            “I’m handling it,” snapped Akira.

            “No, you’re fucking not,” shot back Chuuya. Huffing exasperatedly, he walked over and roughly to the gauze into his own hand.

            “I said I was handl—.”

            “Too bad.” Chuuya properly wound the bandages around her waist.

            Akira bit her lip and frowned. Silence descended on the room. Both wanted to speak, but after the argument…neither knew quite how to begin. Chuuya wanted to apologize for lying and make it up to her; Akira wanted to apologize for how cruel she’d been to him. They both had a lot of pride, but they both also loved each other. And that emotion was stronger.

            “So you finally got out of that book,” said Akira. “Took you long enough.”

            (Unfortunately, their pride was strong enough to keep their conversations in angry territory)

            “Have you ever beaten up a thousand fucking people just to find five hundred criminals? I don’t think so,” hissed Chuuya.

            Akira huffed. “Oh, I’m sorry, I thought liked fighting from how angry you are all the time.”

            “Could say the same shit about you,” muttered Chuuya.

            He pulled the bandages tight. Akira hissed as pain shot up her side. Chuuya quickly relaxed the gauze.

            “Damn it, are you trying to hurt me more?” asked Akira.

            “Do you really think so low of me?” snapped Chuuya.

            “…” Akira looked away.

            Chuuya laughed bitterly. “You really think I’d willfully hurt you…”

            “No, I don’t,” said Akira, her gaze soft. “But that doesn’t change the fact that I did get hurt.” She stood up and walked away.

            Damn it! Chuuya huffed as he followed. This is going to be hard.

l

            (Y/N) and her fellow detectives sat in the saferoom. Yosano had healed them (except for Akira, who was still bandaging herself), so they were waiting for someone from the mafia to meet with. The door to the room opened.

            “So…how’s this mafia safehouse treating you?” Mori had arrived. “I wouldn’t exactly call it paradise on Earth, but it should keep the Hunting Dogs’ eyes off you for about a week.”

            “Mori…Do you know whether Kunikida is alive after the explosion and fall?” asked Yosano.

            “No, sad to say,” said Mori, his eyes still flashing cunningly.

            “And…Dazai?” asked (Y/N).

            “The only news I have regarding Dazai is…the Hunting Dogs arrested him prior to the hostage crisis. He was drugged and taken to the Justice Department and then to Public Welfare. I can’t say where after that,” said Mori. “He was taken to a place not even Mafia informants can reach. I imagine it is a fairly unpleasant place.”

            (Y/N)’s eyes widened. No…Dazai! She slumped in her seat. The man she loved was locked up somewhere that not even the Port Mafia could find. Dazai, my love…have I lost you forever?

            “What are we supposed to do next…?” wondered Jun’ichiro dejectedly.

            “The Port Mafia has prepared for you to separate and be taken to different safehouses,” said Mori.

            Angrily, Yosano stood up and kicked her chair down. “You’ve got to be kidding me!”

            Mori looked steadily at her. “I’m not kidding. I’m having the Armed Detective Agency split up and run away. The arrangements have already been made.”

            “We’re just supposed to run?!” questioned (Y/N).

            “And then what?!” cried Yosano.

            “And then? Nothing. You’ll quietly live out your days in hiding,” said Mori.

            “Thought as much,” spat Yosano. “You never intended to save the Agency. ‘Transferring someone from the Detective Agency’ as the terms for helping us? What a riot! Your only aim was to get to me!”

            Her friends furrowed their brow as they didn’t understand how the two knew each other. (Y/N)’s mind, however, recalled a faint memory of a distant conversation with Akira. She couldn’t identify the facts discussed, but…she had a feeling it hinted to the answer here.

            “…Even if that’s true, so what?” asked Mori, still dangerously serious. “You see, Yosano, Fukuzawa agreed to this when we made the deal. You have no right to refuse.”

            “The president wouldn’t have said such a thing!” shouted Yosano.

            “On the contrary,” said Mori. “Fukuzawa said ‘You can choose her.’ ”

            Eyes widening, Yosano stepped back. Betrayal swam in her eyes.

            “Might want to fact check that before you go agreeing to anything.” Akira stood in the doorway with crossed arms. “You know how crafty he can be.”

            Mori’s face became stone cold as he turned. “Akira.”

            Well, shit, thought (Y/N) and Chuuya simultaneously.

            Akira’s voice was ice cold. “Hey, Dad.”

Chapter Text

Three years old…

            “Akira, it’s time for bed,” said Nanako, picking up Akira.

            “Don’t wanna,” pouted Akira.

            “Rintaro, will you help?” asked Nanako. “Your daughter is being a rebel again.”

            “Listen to your mother,” said Mori, walking over and smiling slightly.

            Akira shook her head. “Uh-uh. I don’t wanna.”

            Nanako sighed playfully. “What am I going to do? She turned out like you both in appearance and personality. Both of you are incredibly stubborn.”

            Mori swept Akira out of Nanako’s arms. The little girl laughed in surprise.

            “Come on, let’s get to bed before your mother keeps teasing us,” said Mori.

            Nanako chuckled and rolled her eyes. Akira allowed herself to be carried to her room by Mori.

            “Goo’night,” yawned Akira as she lay down and closed her eyes.

            Nanako walked up behind Mori and looked over his shoulder. “Well?”

            “She’s at least pretending to sleep,” said Mori.

            “Well, then, let’s let her pretend. We can relax by ourselves for once,” joked Nanako.

            “Should I have Elise make us some drinks?” asked Mori.

            Nanako shook her head. “Really, Rintaro, dear, you’ll become lazy if you have her do everything for you.”

            Mori pouted. “Nanako!”

            “You know I’m right,” shot back Nanako. She grabbed his wrist. “Come on, let Akira sleep. She’ll wake up crabby if you keep being like this.”

            “You’re so mean…” sighed Mori.

            “You haven’t seen mean, Rintaro.”

Four years old…

            “Daddy!” Akira ran into the front hall. “Daddy, I don’t know where Mommy is! She hasn’t been home in hours!” She grabbed onto his doctor’s coat and looked up at his face. She could tell that he was…sad.

            “She’s not coming back,” said Mori. He looked down. His eyes were clouded, but no emotion breached his face. “Akira…She’s not coming back.”

            “Wh-What happened to Mommy?”

            Mori was quiet.

            “Daddy, where’s—?”

            “She’s gone.”

            And that was all he said. He crossed the hall and went into his office, shutting the door behind him. Akira was left alone. Tears began to fall as she realized her mother wasn’t coming home, and Akira felt the agony of heartbreak for the first time.

Five years old…

            Akira walked into the sweets shop. After visiting her mother’s grave (which unfortunately had no body, just the tombstone), she found it hard to lift her spirits, so she would go to Nanako’s favorite shop. Akira was a child, so she couldn’t quite articulate why she did it, but the truth was she felt closer to her mother doing the things she loved. Mori would usually be along a few minutes after Akira since he stayed behind at Nanako’s grave longer. Akira sat down at a table.

            “Aren’t you a little young to be here alone?” asked a girl with short black hair, putting her hands on her hips.

            “My dad is comin’ soon,” said Akira. She smiled. “I’m Akira Mori.”

            “I’m Akiko Yosano,” introduced the girl. “What are you doing here?”

            Akira frowned. “I feel not good. My mommy is gone…”

            “I’m sorry,” said Yosano.

            “I also found the butterfly,” said Akira, holding out her hands.

            A small butterfly lay in her palms, barely alive.

            “Now I’m sad about it, too…” Akira frowned.

            Yosano sighed. It wasn’t fun seeing such a small kid sad.

            “Here, let me show you something,” said Yosano. She gently took the insect from Akira. “Thou Shalt Not Die,” she whispered.

            Akira’s eyes widened as the butterfly twitched and stood. Finally, it flew away, out the open door as Mori watched in surprise.

            “Whoa…” breathed Akira. She laughed. “That’s so cool!”

Six years old…

            Akira sighed as she sat in the tree. She kicked her legs back and forth off the branch. I wish Dad would take a break from teaching Akiko…

            Mori had taken Yosano in as a student. Because of her ability, her skills as a nurse improved quickly. Akira hadn’t minded Yosano being around because she liked the nine-year-old, but her feelings changed since Mori would be hyper-focused on teaching and ignored Akira. She felt lonely.

            Akira gazed up at the sky as the sun sank lower on the horizon. Stars began to dot the sky. As she watched, she recognized five silver pinpricks on the velvety sky as Apus, the constellation of the bird of paradise. She only knew it because her father used to say that her mother was like the constellation. A bird from Heaven itself that brough paradise to his life. Akira brightened. Her father might like seeing Apus again as a reminder of his wife.

            She clambered down the tree and rushed into the house. She opened the door to Mori’s study where he was quizzing Yosano on medical treatments.

            “Dad!” called Akiko excitedly.

            “I’m busy,” snapped Mori.

            “But Dad, I thought you would want to—.”

            “Enough! Go play outside. Whatever it is can wait,” said Mori sternly.

            Akira’s shoulders sagged slightly. “M’sorry,” she said meekly, shuffling out the door. He didn’t even turn around and look at me…

Seven years old…

            “Please, you can’t leave! Please!”

            Akira was desperate. Her father and Yosano were going off to the war as doctors. She was going to be all alone.

            “Don’t worry about me,” said Yosano confidently. “I’ll be fine, and I’ll be helping people.”

            “You can’t be sure! You could be hurt!” cried Akira.

            “Listen to Yosano, she’s being sensible about this,” said Mori.

            “Then I can come, too! You can’t leave me alone!” pleaded Akira.

            “The government is providing a caretaker, you’ll be fine,” said Mori. “And you cannot come. You are a child; you cannot protect yourself.”

            “But—!”

            “Enough, Akira!” Mori look sternly down at her. “I won’t hear any more of this. Yosano and I are almost late.” He took a few steps down to the waiting car.

            “Please, Dad! I’m scared! You can’t leave me like Mom! Please don’t leave me!” begged Akira.

            Mori whirled on her. “Do not bring her into this!”

            Akira flinched back at his anger. “I’m sorry…I’m just afraid to lose you…”

            Calming himself, Mori sighed. “I’m perfectly capable of handling myself.” He turned on his heel and walked away.

            Akira watched with a sinking feeling in her stomach.

Eight years old…

            For the first time in a year, Mori stepped into the house. Akira ran up to him.

            “Dad!” She cried. She quickly became silent when she saw Mori’s somber gaze. “…Where’s Akiko?” Please…don’t tell me she’s gone…

            “She’s fine. We just won’t be seeing her anymore,” said Mori.

            “…What happened?”

            Mori ignored her and walked into his office. Akira was left alone in the hall. Strangely, she felt more alienated from her father than she had when he first left. Akira clenched her fists as tears formed in her eyes.

            Dad…please come back to me…

Eleven years old…

            “You are going insane, Dr. Mori!” shouted Fukuzawa as the two men clashed on the hospital roof. “You’re going to drag one girl back into Hell and throw another in as well!”

            “Yosano is vital for the tripartite tactic, for the peace of the city!” cried Mori maniacally. “To overthrow the powerful boss of the mafia, and immortal regiment led by Yosano is the best and only way!”

            “And your own daughter?! Abandoning her is the ‘best way?!’ ” questioned Fukuzawa.

            “I must think of the good of the city, that’s what Master Natsume desired!” Mori glared at Fukuzawa.

            “Would Nanako want this for her daughter?!” challenged Fukuzawa furiously.

            “Nanako is dead.” Mori’s voice was ice cold.

            “Then don’t you want better for your daughter?!”

            Mori’s eyes flamed with rage. “I will not be weak! I will do exactly as I’ve planned!”

            “Have you no heart?!”

            “This is war! It’s a game where the side that cares about ‘heart’ first loses!” declared Mori. There’s a reason Elise acts the way she does now. I will miss—

l

            Akira entered her home. It was unusually empty, which immediately put her on edge. All of her father’s stuff was gone. Mori’s office door was open, and the inside was baren. All the books and tools were removed from the various shelves. Akira knew better than to wonder if someone had hurt her father. This was too systematic, and as she got older, she understood Mori was dangerous. Akira knew what had happened. She pushed the nearest shelf to the ground. She screamed in anger. Akira had been abandoned. She was officially alone.

Twelve years old…

            Akira ran through the alleyways as the gang followed behind her. Darting around corners, she regretted going into their territory. Admittedly, they were a small criminal organization, but for Akira, a young girl, it was a mistake to pickpocket in their small area. Especially when she managed to get a large wad of cash from a businessman passing through the streets. With the competition of the Port Mafia and the Sheep, smaller gangs scrambled for power to operate even as simple conmen in certain areas. They would steal from those areas, extort residents, and conduct other misdeeds.

            She veered into another street and scrambled over a fence. Unfortunately, the next fence was too high. She was trapped. Akira turned around and glanced around for any weapons she could protect herself with. There were broken cans and bottles. She picked up a shard, a pitiful item against four men approaching her.

            “We don’t take kindly to ‘freelancers’ coming out here. If you gave a percentage to us, we’d be more lenient, but…” The leader smirked cruelly. “I feel like teaching you a lesson.”

            He pulled out a knife. Snapping his fingers, he directed his associates to grab Akira. She fought back by slashing her broken bottle at the. She succeeded in putting scratches on them. It only angered them further, and they grabbed her arms tightly. The leader stepped forward and grinned as he plunged the knife into her stomach.

Akira screamed in pain. White hot agony lit her every nerve. I don’t want to die! I don’t want to die! As she was dropped to the ground, she barely registered the bruises that formed as she hit the dirty cement. Her senses were already beginning to dull. Akira could see the men jeering at her as her vision blurred. Their voices sounded far away as if underwater. Akira wanted to cry out or get up, but her every desire for movement or action was failing her. Her eyes closed, and she felt a warm emptiness engulfing her. Still, her mind fought against it. Akira didn’t want this. She wanted to live.

            Kill them. The fires of hell fuel this fury. Kill them.

            When Akira finally had clariry in her own mind, she found herself standing upright in the alley. The previous pain she felt in her stomach was a dull ache. However, that is not what she focused on. Akira was preoccupied with the scene surrounding her. The men who had attacked her lay on the ground. They had been ripped apart, and their limbs were strewn around the alley. Blood splattered the walls. Crying out, Akira stumbled backwards in shock. She brought her hands to her head but froze. Claws curled out, and her hands were soaked in blood. Breathing shakily, she clutched her head, too panicky to care for the blood. Akira was faced with another shock as she felt horns on her head.

            Oh, god…I did this! I killed them! I tore them to pieces!

            Akira looked at her bloody hands. She had to face the truth. She had a gift like her father, her mother, and Yosano. And…it would let her be strong. Akira narrowed her eyes. If it meant she could live…she would hone this ability to its highest potential. She would become whatever was needed to survive. Liar, pickpocket, conwoman, demon.

Fifteen years old…

            Akira placed an icepack on her head. She watched as the next pair of kids fought. She despised being entertainment, but if she wanted to have any semblance of a home, a place to return to, she would do it. And…Hell Hath No Fury gave Akira an edge. She learned to fight quickly. She was strong. She was dangerous.

            “Hey, girl!” barked the barkeeper. “You have a fight against a proper ability user!”

            Akira glanced up distastefully at the man the barkeeper gestured to. “He’s an adult.”

            “Yeah, well, he’s payin’ extra to get some target practice against our best fighter. So get to it!”

            Sighing, Akira stood up and went into the large cage-like arena. The man came in after, dressed in a suit and still not paying attention to his opponent.

            “On the right, we have our resident demon Akira! On the left, we have mafia man Gorou Yoshie!” announced the barkeeper.

            Akira’s claws extended, but she remained still. Rushing into a battle without thinking would be foolish. She watched Yoshie like he was merely prey to be devoured. He was just another person to beat.

            “Huh?” Yoshie frowned. “But you look just like my—.”

            He froze. Akira was standing right behind him with her claws around his neck.

            “—boss.”

            Yoshie reacted instantly. His hand became a gun, and he pressed to backwards, shotting. Akira flipped away with the bullet merely grazing her side.  She gabbed his hands, raking her claws through them. His gun-hand was destroyed. She leaned close to him.

            “What did you say?” Akira hissed.

            “I didn’t say anything…”

            Her eyes turned black. “What. Did. You. Say?”

            Akira’s grip tightened on Yoshie’s neck. Pinpricks of blood dripped down his neck from the claws.

            “Your appearance!” he gasped. Yoshie could barely breath.

            “What about it?” interrogated Akira as people watching the fight clamored at her to kill Yoshie.

            “You look…just like my boss…!” His face was turning red.

            “Who’s your boss?” hissed Akira.

            “My boss’s name…it’s…Mori!” spluttered Yoshie.

            Akira growled lowly at the mention of her father. So that’s where the bastards been for four years…!

            “Please, I just wanted to fight for practice!” pleaded Yoshie pathetically.

            “Practice for hurting people? Kids?” spat Akira

            The crowd roared for her to finish the fight. It was getting boring for them to just watch her strangle Yoshie.

            She smirked. “Do you hear that?” Akira whispered into his ear. “The crowd wants me to kill you.”

            Yoshie’s eyes widened.

            “And you know what? I think I will…”

            Akira’s claws sunk into Yoshie’s neck.

l

            Akira sat in front of her mother’s grave in the dark. “I killed someone for others’ sport, Mom. I know it’s bad, but…I need to survive. I know that’s not an excuse, but I would have been thrown out if I hadn’t. I’m-I’m trying. I promise I am. I want so bad to make you proud.” She sobbed. “I want to survive and help people…I know I’m doing bad right now, Mom, but I’m trying…I’m trying so hard. I give the other kids some of the food I get. I take more fights for them. I’m trying to make sure they don’t feel as alone as I do. I’m trying to make sure they don’t feel the burden of death. I’m trying to make sure they survive. I’m trying, Mom. I’m trying so damn hard…”

Eighteen years old…

            Akira walked calmly into the bar. She glanced around distastefully. This would be the last time she’d have to step foot in the despicable place.

            “Hey! Where were you?!” demanded the barkeeper. “You were supposed to be here an hour ago!”

            “I’m sorry, I don’t work for you anymore,” replied Akira coolly.

            The bar owner laughed derisively. “You gonna threaten to hurt me again? Sorry, girlie, but those other brats will pay before you get to me.”

            “Will they? I don’t think so.” Akira smirked cruelly as armed men came in behind her. “I can see you recognize them. You owe these guys a lot of money, don’t you? I thought I’d help you along! You may not have the money to pay them back, but I’m sure you’ll figure something out.”

            “Kill them! I’ll give you more money, a better deal, anything!” pleaded the barkeeper.

            Akira pretend to consider. “Give me the entire business?”

            “W-What?! I’ll have nothing!” protested the disgusting man.

            “Have fun with the debt collectors, then!” said Akira, turning on her heel.

            “F-Fine! You can have it all! The deed is in the back room, now please get them out of here!” cried the barkeeper.

            “He’s all yours, boys,” chirped Akira.

            The armed men grabbed the groveling bar owner and began to haul him out the door.

            He struggled futilely. “B-But I gave you what you wanted! Why—?!”

            “You fucking moron.” Akira laughed. “What ever made you think I would help you?”

            She watched in satisfaction as the “debt collectors” pulled the barkeeper away. Turning, she saw the other fighters kids looking at her nervously. Akira smiled gently.

            “It’s all right. The nightmare is over. You don’t have to fight anymore. You’ll be probably taken care of. I have it all sorted out. And if you ever need help, I’m here.”

l

            Akira stepped down from the ladder and examined her work. She was pleased with how the sign had turned out. The Painted Glass was a more reputable name for the establishment she was making. Smiling to herself, she made the sure the finishing touches of her new bar were ready. Akira didn’t expect anyone in soon since it was a new business, but she would still be professional. And after all, she could get money other ways as well. She raised her head as the door swung open and harried girl walked in, looking around nervously.

            “A-Are you Akira?” stammered the girl.

            “Whaddya want?”

            “I need some information. My brother…He’s missing…”

            “Well, then.” Akira smirked. “You’ve come to the right place.”

Twenty-one years old…

            Akira was mixing drinks in the quiet atmosphere of the Painted Glass when the door banged open. She looked up for a moment to decide whether or not it was trouble. A hurried man dressed in dark clothing rushed to the back of the bar and sat in a booth. Akira went back to work. Criminals often came into her bar, but unless they caused her trouble or the pay was good, she wouldn’t do anything to stop them. However, she had a suspicion that this man may prove to be problematic as a professionally dressed woman came into the bar.

            She’s cute, thought Akira as the woman walked over.

            “Hello, I was wondering if—.”

            “No drink, no information,” teased Akira.

            The (H/C)-haired woman pulled out some money. “Give me a glass of whatever, I won’t be here long.”

            “That’s a downer,” pouted Akira playfully while pouring a drink. “Can I at least get the name of the investigator in my bar?”

            “How’d you guess I was investigating something?” asked the detective curiously.

            “You instantly asked for information, and you didn’t look like you were asking for my number.” Smirking devilishly, Akira shrugged.

            “Fair enough. You’re right,” said the woman. “My name is (Y/N) (L/N).”

Twenty-two years old…

            “Gogol, ability. Got it. Thanks,” said (Y/N) over the phone.

            “Are you okay?” asked Akira. She could hear how frantic (Y/N) was.

            “I’m fine, but I’ve gotta go.” (Y/N) hung up.

            Akira huffed. I had to find information about some guy I never heard of until today that has some unknown ability. Something’s definitely going on. Akira turned on the police scanner she acquired (translation: stole) and leaned back in her chair. For a few minutes, it was the boring stuff about fires and a few petty robberies. Then, there were frantic voices.

            “Get to all the news channels!” cried the voice of an officer. “Reports have come in from higherups! The Armed Detective Agency kidnapped and killed several government officials and one of their own!”

            Alarmed, Akira sat up. The Agency wouldn’t do that. This cannot be right; there must be an explanation. She crossed her arms, thinking hard. Okay, so this case will be passed to more important military officials. They won’t use the scanner to speak to each other. But… She smirked. Regular media outlets just report on what’s happening, even if they have no idea why. Perfect.

            She pulled out her phone and began scrolling through the news. One fact quickly caught her attention. Travel on a specific highway was being diverted. That meant something important was going on there.

            Well, then, thought Akira. Looks like I have somewhere to be.

Chapter Text

            “Akira.”

            “It’s been a while, hasn’t it? Eleven years, if I’m not mistaken,” said Akira coolly.

            (Y/N) felt extremely uncomfortable just sitting in the same room during the father-daughter reunion.

            “You are correct,” said Mori calmly, an impressive feat in the face of what was happening.

            “How are you?” asked Akira, smiling with faux brightness. “I’m sure we have a lot to catch up on between your criminal misdeeds and my trauma!”

            Mori looked down at her dangerously. “I will remind you that you’re currently my guest, and unlike the Armed Detective Agency, no deal has been made for your safety.”

            Chuuya’s eyes narrowed, and he clenched his fists. A subtle red glow appeared around his hands. He couldn’t cross his boss, but he cared about Akira. He didn’t appreciate her being threatened.

            “I don’t need anyone to make deals for me,” hissed Akira. “And I can handle anyone you throw at me. You might have abandoned me because I wasn’t ‘useful’ to you and ‘weak,’ but you were very wrong. I’m stronger than you could imagine. So come on, stop fucking around.”

            “Watch your tongue,” said Mori.

            “Or what? You’ll throw me out and abandon me again?” Akira pretended to think. “Oh, wait, you already did that. You need something new! How about trying to kill me? That would be exciting!”

            “It would be a waste of time to kill you,” said Mori scornfully.

            Akira shrugged. “Probably.” She smirked. “But only because you would take a long time fighting me just to fail. I’d win.”

            “I gave you a warning.” Mori’s tone was dark and dangerous. “I won’t give you another.”

            “Spoken like a father! Unfortunately—” Akira’s eyes turned pitch black “—you lost that title eleven years ago. You know, when you abandoned me because I wasn’t useful to you.”

            The tension was palpable. It felt like a literal storm was brewing between Mori and Akira. Chuuya’s eyes flitted between the two, as did (Y/N)’s. Both had abilities suited to stopping a battle should one begin. Yosano was clenching her fists angrily, fully prepared to fight with Akira. She, too, knew the pain of Mori’s guidance. She wanted revenge for all he’d done as well. Jun’ichiro and Kenji remained still and quiet. The entire room was on edge.

            Suddenly, the door opened, and Hirotsu walked in. Every head turned to him. He bowed.

            “Boss. Pardon the interruption,” he said, holding out a radio. “This radio was left in the entrance.”

            Everybody relaxed slightly as they listened in. Even Akira calmed, though that might have been Chuuya reaching out to touch her hand for a moment. (Luckily for the pair, (Y/N) seemed to be the only one who noticed. She also had a suspicion that this confrontation was only the beginning. Even if interrupted now, Mori and Akira would have to argue talk things over.)

            “Yo! How are you, old sport?” A man’s voice came over the radio.

            Fitzgerald?! thought (Y/N) in surprise.

            “It’s been a while! I’d like to laugh at your difficult situation, but there’s no time, so I’ll keep it brief,” said Fitzgerald. “I’ve sent the tiger boy to you.”

            “Atsushi!” exclaimed (Y/N) happily.

            “He’s alive!” Kenji and Jun’ichiro grinned.

            “…Why would that young man come here?” questioned Mori.

            “He made a deal,” explained Fitzgerald coolly. “To use a healing ability for my sake. In exchange, I’ll give him information that can revive the Detective Agency. The meeting will take place in twenty minutes on fifth street.”

            “Wait a minute,” said Mori. “How do you know about this hideout—.”

            “Goodbye.” Fitzgerald hung up.

            “…How odd,” murmured Mori.

            “Odd?” asked Hirotsu.

            “Yes, how did he even discover this hideout?” remarked Mori.

            “It’s not that hard to get that type information,” said Akira, rolling her eyes. “If your smart, that is. But even so, Fitzgerald has the Eyes of God, which is much more reliable.”

            Mori glanced at her. “If he knew about this place, he should’ve made a deal with the military instead. There’s a better payoff from helping the powerful ‘Hunting Dogs’ rather than the weak Detective Agency. The Fitzgerald I know is the strong type. He’s a man who supports the winning side. This deal—Isn’t it a trap?”

            (Y/N) stood up. “It doesn’t matter. We have to get Atsushi and Kyouka.”

            Yosano nodded. “We’ll take any risk.”

            (Y/N) walked out the door, heading through the winding corridors towards the outside. As Yosano to the door, Mori blocked her path subtly.

            “Yosano…” he said warningly.

            “Go to hell, there are more important things at stake then getting a new puppet,” hissed Akira, placing herself in front of Yosano.

            The female doctor glared at Mori defiantly. “I’m saving the Agency.”

            They went past him without a second glance. As Akira passed Chuuya, however, she paused. She looked into his eyes briefly before they flitted to the ground. Before anything else could happen, Akira continued forward and pretended nothing had transpired. Chuuya watched her walk off, trying to think of a believable excuse to follow.

            Jun’ichiro and Kenji glanced at each other. They were worried about (Y/N) and Yosano’s willingness to go right into a trap. They hurried past the mafiosi after the women, who were farther ahead.

            Trailing behind (Y/N), Akira and Yosano and walked through the halls.

            “You were…impressive back there,” said Yosano.

            “Well, the asshole deserved it,” said Akira shortly.

            Yosano stopped, causing Akira to as well. The doctor looked down.

            “Do you dislike me, too?” asked Yosano. “I mean, I…I never came back for you. I never looked for you after joining the Agency. Don’t you blame me for that?”

            “I’m no psychologist, but I think that you’re blaming yourself for something,” quipped Akira.

            “I don’t like to look back on the past,” said Yosano. “But…when I saw you, I was shocked.”

            Akira raised an eyebrow. “Well, it was fifteen years ago. And unlike me, you haven’t really kept up-to-date on my life,” chuckled the red-eyed woman. It was halfway between a joke and the pointing out of a betrayal.

            “I’m serious,” snapped Yosano. She took a deep breath. “I know people change as they get older, but you have the same look in your eyes as I do. You went through a lot, like I did. And I’m sorry for not finding you. Maybe then you wouldn’t be—.”

            “Be what? Damaged? Broken?” hissed Akira. “I get it. I’m fucked up. Trust me, I know.” She sighed and pinched her forehead. She didn’t want to be angry at the first person who had been her friend. “Look, it isn’t your fault.”

            “It still feels like you don’t like me,” remarked Yosano. “You wouldn’t even let me heal you with my ability. Even if you do heal quickly…it does suggest there’s more.”

            “I don’t…I don’t like being reminded of what your ability is.” Akira chuckled bitterly. “It has to do with Mori.”

            Yosano frowned.

            “You became important to him because of your ability. You got to spend time with him. He adored teaching you. He has a fucked-up way of showing it, but you became the daughter he wanted.” Akira sighed. “I was jealous of you. And I’m trying to get over that, but…seeing as he still wants you on his side more than anyone else…it’s going to take some time.” She turned away. She didn’t want to continue the conversation any longer.

            “Dr. Yosano! (Y/N)!” called Jun’ichiro, running up with Kenji.

            Yosano turned while (Y/N) walked back to meet them.

            “Are you guys seriously going to walk straight into a trap?” asked Jun’ichiro concernedly.

            “If it gives us a chance to find Kyouka and Atsushi, then yes,” said (Y/N) firmly.

            “Dr. Yosano’s doing it so she doesn’t have to join the Port Mafia, isn’t she?!” challenged Jun’ichiro. “Then…let me join instead. I’ll do it for you. Just tell me why you can’t do it, and I will.”

            “Jun’ichiro…” (Y/N) glanced at Yosano, who was clearly uncomfortable.

            “What happened between you and that mafia boss?” asked Jun’ichiro. “Does it have to do…with the Hunting Dogs’ talk of the ‘Angel of Death?’ ”

            “Yeah…” admitted Yosano. She smiled. “I suppose I can’t have anyone fussing over me. All right. I’ll tell you as we walk. Long ago, the president and Mori were friends, part of the ‘Tripartite Scheme.’ But now they’re enemies. Why do you think that is? It’s because of me.”

            (Y/N), Akira, Kenji, and Jun’ichiro listened intently as Yosano told them of her time in the war. Occasionally, they gasped or frowned as they considered the situation in which Yosano was placed. It gave an explanation and look into her mind. At the same time, it was heartbreaking.

            She was a nursing assistant to Mori, a doctor at the time, on a carrier base. She was constantly healing the troops, which allowed them to continuing fighting long after other groups would have to retreat. One particular man became her friend, even gave her the gold butterfly pin she wore today. Yosano eventually began to understand that she wasn’t just there to heal men as a medic, she was there under some pretense for Mori to try to create some sort of “immortal regiment.” Life in the war became tougher and tougher, especially for an eleven-year-old constantly using her ability. Mori pushed her farther, physically and psychologically. When she didn’t want to heal someone so they could go home, he’d put them on the brink of death to force her. Yosano began to feel hopeless, listless. The final straw was when the man she’d become friends with…ended his own life in order to escape the constant cycle of death and destruction. Yosano’s mind was truly broken.

            After the war, she was taken to a hospital and locked away. Yosano didn’t care. The three years blended together. The person who arrived to take her out was Mori. Luckily, Fukuzawa arrived to fight for her freedom. That was when she met Ranpo and got back some of her hope for the future. That was when Dr. Yosano of the Armed Detective Agency was born.

l

            Inside a hidden prison, two men hung in suspended cells opposite each other. Fyodor and Dazai met once again.

            “Shall we have a super happy chit-chat about our problems?” called Fyodor, supremely bored.

            Dazai stared inexpressively at him. He was willingly to put on a friendly façade, but with everything the Russian had put (Y/N) through, it would be tough.

            “So it’s finally happened! I, Dostoevsky, am the prime-time host of the vert first ‘Super Happy! Problem Discussion!’ ” said Fyodor.

            “I’m going to need you to hold on for a minute,” said Dazai.

            Fyodor cocked his head. “What is it?”

            “…” Dazai stared at him. “What the fuck.”

            “What’s that supposed to mean?” asked Fyodor.

            They were both quiet.

            “Hm.” Dazai considered. “A discussion. That’d definitely be impossible without a chance like this.”

            “I’m grateful for your quick understanding,” said Fyodor. His eyes darkened. “Thanks to the nature of my mind, I can read the thoughts of my opponents. But that means I can’t ‘discuss’ with others unless my partner has an intellect equal to me own, like my angel.” His tone became more lighthearted. “So this is a chance to exchange thoughts on our problems.”

            Dazai mouth twitched into a momentary frown at the mention of (Y/N). He knew that she was incredible clever, there was no doubt. However, it was irksome that Fyodor still obsessed over (Y/N). It was even more aggravating to Dazai because (Y/N) was his girlfriend now. Expertly, he kept a straight face. “Well, then, you first,” said Dazai expressionlessly.

            “ ‘My subordinates laze around all day waiting for orders and never take the initiative. What can I do to make them into excellent, autonomous subordinates?’ ” asked Fyodor.

            Dazai thought for a moment before replying. “If your subordinates believe lazing around is a bad thing, they’ll start to put in effort of their own.”

            Fyodor hit his palm with his fist in exclamation. “I see~!”

            “I’ll go next,” said Dazai. “ ‘I fear my girlfriend is upset with me for getting locked up. How should I ensure her affections remain constant?’ ”

            “…” Fyodor minutely narrowed his eyes. He despised how Dazai was in a relationship with his angel. However, he was not less adept than Dazai at hiding emotions. “Well, if you lock her up with you and make her friends abandon her, she’ll only have you to care for.”

            “I see,” said Dazai measuredly. He didn’t plan to take that advice at all, but then again, Fyodor wasn’t going to take his. The words still struck a chord with Dazai because he remembered the overflowing relief in (Y/N)’s eyes when he lifted the blindfold from her eyes and freed her from Fyodor’s grasp. To hear even the mere allusion to Fyodor wanting to kidnap her again angered Dazai greatly.

            The pair quieted and watched each other carefully. They were acting friendly, but anyone watching could sense that they were circling one another and deciding how to attack.

            “Next, why don’t we ask a question at the same time?” proposed Fyodor.

            “Sounds good,” said Dazai. He smirked determinedly. “Tell me…”

            Fyodor smirked condescendingly. “I’d like to know…”

            “How you’re contacting the people outside.” They spoke the words perfectly in tandem.

            Fyodor smiled and relaxed. “Of course, that would be it.”

            “Naturally,” said Dazai. “If I can find out how my opponent sends messages first, I could ask my comrades outside to cut off that line of communication. In other words, I’d win.”

            “You won’t figure out how I’m relaying messages,” said Fyodor calmly.

            “Oh, yes, I will,” countered Dazai. He smiled confidently. “That’s why I came here.”

Chapter Text

            “The meeting site is just ahead,” said (Y/N) as the Agency and Akira walked through Yokohama streets.

            “Let’s hurry,” advised Yosano, “before the mafia finds us—.”

            “Why, old man?!” huffed an angry voice.

            The refugees pressed themselves against the building and looked carefully around the corner. The mafiosi had already arrived.

            “Let’s just blow away the Agency!” cried Tachihara. “They ignored the boss’s orders and ran off! They’re looking down on him!”

            “You’re still thinking like a simple gangster, Tachihara,” said Hirotsu calmly. “The mafia does not care whether it’s being looked down upon. What matters is whether we’re following the will of the boss or not. ‘Don’t let anyone hurt the Agency or Akira, the woman who accompanies them. Protect them with your lives.’ Those are our orders.”

            Akira blinked. She hadn’t thought she’d be included after how cold Mori was and how brazen she had been.

            “In other words…the boss knows they would ignore orders and embark on some dangerous negotiations,” said Hirotsu. He looked pointedly at the alleyway where the referenced people stood. “Do you see now…all of you over there?”

            “Mori worries too much,” muttered Yosano as she and her associates exited the shadows. “He doesn’t have to. Fitzgerald isn’t springing a trap on us.”

            “And even if he is, we can handle ourselves,” said (Y/N).

            “Do you have proof?” asked Hirotsu.

            (Y/N) smiled. “Atsushi will find a way back to us. I believe in him. If someone tries to stop us, even Fitzgerald, he’ll pull through.”

            Yosano nodded. “He once started a life-and-death battle with Fitzgerald on the Moby Dick. They bared their souls and traded in lives. Atsushi won’t be deceived so easily.”

            An ambulance turned onto the street, and Kenji brightened.

            “There it is!” he exclaimed. He ran over and grabbed the door handle. “We were waiting for you, Atsushi—!”

            The vehicle exploded. Kenji was thrown to the ground by the force.

            “Kenji!” cried (Y/N).

            “Freeze!” A whole troop of military police in riot gear surrounded the Mafia, Agency, and Akira. “Targets surrounded! Capturing the suspects! Secure the hostage!”

            (Y/N)’s eyes widened, and Akira’s claws extended.

            “Kenji!” called Jun’ichiro in worry.

            A sword propelled itself through the young blonde’s stomach as his friends gasped.

            “Everybody, run!” shouted Hirotsu. “This meeting’s a trap! Fitzgerald’s on the side of the enemy!”

            All hell broke loose. The military police began firing. The Agency, mafia, and Akira activated their abilities. Throwing one hand to the side, (Y/N) redirected bullets. With the other, she forced riot shields backwards and pinned men to the ground. Akira ripped into the officers, moving like an eel through the throng. Every so often she’d flinch as she twisted and aggravated her injury, but she fought well nonetheless. Jun’ichiro utilized his illusions to attack out of nowehere. Gin slashed at opponents while Tachihara unladed rounds on them. They all paused as a man in a hooded robe-like raincoat walked into the fray, flanked by riot police. An eerie aura surrounded him. He raised a hand and curled it into a fist. From where it protruded from Kenji’s back, the sword quivered. Then, it stabbed farther into him.

            “Kenji!!” screamed the Agency.

            Jun’ichiro grabbed the hilt and tugged. It wouldn’t budge.

            “The…The sword…I can’t take it out…!” cried Jun’ichiro.

            (Y/N)’s eyes widened. An ability?!

            Akira took a step forward to try her strength, but Hirotsu moved first.

            “Move,” he said, as composed as ever. He raised his hand. “Falling Camellia.”

            The sword propelled out of Kenji’s stomach. Yosano and Jun’ichiro supported him as (Y/N) held the military police off. With her hands in front of her, her gift strained to hold back so many people.

            “Come.” Hirotsu gestured to them.

            The group ran through streets, into an alley, and into a hidden elevator. Akira noticed it was similar to the one she had used during the Mukurotoride incident. Yosano healed Kenji before his blood loss became worse.

            “Goddammit!” Tachihara kicked the wall in anger. “I told you this was all a trap!”

            “Looks like it,” said Yosano.

            (Y/N) nodded absently. Something doesn’t seem right…That guy in the robe. I feel like something was off. It was too ostentatious, too showy. It’s like we’re supposed to focus on how he was using his ability, but then he then nothing. And if he had such a helpful ability for battle, he could have been a Hunting Dog, yet he lacked the uniform. Something more is going on here.

            Hirotsu listened to the information being fed to his earpiece. “The mafia’s armed force is fighting, but the defense line’s crumbling.”

            Chuuya! thought Akira. She trusted in his incredible ability. Still, the thought of him in danger plagued her heart.

            “If the five Hunting Dogs come along, we’ll be crushed with this escape route.”

            “Too late, one’s already here,” remarked Akira. “That sword blondie got stabbed with is a military sword. Same type as the guy who attacked the helicopter. It’s a Hunting Dog’s weapon.”

            (Y/N) groaned in annoyance. The world was intent of fighting against the Agency. Dazai, I wish you were here.

            “The Dogs have supernatural physical strength to go with their almighty gifts. It’s said one of them has the fighting power of a thousand-man special forces team,” said Gin.

            “A thousand?!” breathed Jun’ichiro. “They’re monsters! And there are five of them?!”

            Yosano sighed. “(Y/N), Kenji, Jun’ichiro. We need to talk.” Her voice was grave. “Let’s split up and run.”

            “We can’t! We need to stick together!” protested Kenji.

            “I know,” said Yosano. “But for now, it’s just one Hunting Dog. If we split up, four of us survive.”

            “(Y/N)? What do you think?” asked Jun’ichiro.

            They all looked at her. Kunikida had asked her to take care of things. To them, that meant she was the ultimate authority. (Y/N) frowned and looked down while thinking hard.

            “I think we need to ensure the Agency survives,” said (Y/N) seriously. “If even one of us can survive, they can find a way to save the others. If all of us are captured…or worse, then it will all be over.”

            Jun’ichiro nodded. “All right…”

            (Y/N) looked to Hirotsu. “What is the escape plan Mori spoke of?”

            “It’s set to go. We can launch with five minutes’ notice,” said Hirotsu.

            “All right.” (Y/N) looked her friends meaningfully. “Guys…promise me. No matter what happens, no matter who survives…we’ll all fight our damnedest to save the Agency.”

            “All right,” said Jun’ichiro, smiling for the first time since the incident began.

            “Let’s do it!” declared Kenji.

            “I’d stake my life on it!” said Yosano.

            “Well, I’ve already dragged myself into this enough. It’s victory or death at this point,” muttered Akira, shrugging.

            The elevator stopped moving. The doors slid open. Hirotsu handed out maps to Yosano, Kenji, Jun’ichiro, and (Y/N) that they would use to navigate two corridors. The boys would go one way; the girls the other.

            “We weren’t anticipating a fifth,” said Hirotsu to Akira.

            She waved a hand in a careless manner. “It’s fine.”

            “She’s coming with me,” said (Y/N).

            “With three people, it’ll be more difficult to escape,” warned Hirotsu. “And you’ll be expected to split up into individual groups again.”

            (Y/N) grabbed Akira’s hand tightly. “Doesn’t matter. She’s my best friend. I’m not leaving her behind.”

            Akira grinned and squeezed her hand. “Fuck yeah. I’m sticking with you until the bitter end.”

            The group of escapees took a few steps. Akira stopped and smirked. (Y/N) gave her a deadpan glare. It was a clear message: Whatever you’re thinking, stop. Akira ignored it.

            “Since my next family reunion will be…never, deliver my father a message!” chirped Akira. “I guess you know him as Mori, right?” A foxy glint rested in her eye.

            Hirotsu, Gin, and Tachihara stopped. When the words finally registered, Tachihara’s mouth dropped open. Gin and Hirotsu managed to keep themselves to just widening their eyes. Still, to all three, the news was surprising. They know understood why Dazai had mentioned her during the meeting Fukuzawa and Mori had regarding working together against the Guild. They had been confused about the “Akira” they spoke of, but now, after meeting her and receiving this information, it all made sense. Perplexing sense, but sense all the same.

            Akira didn’t pay attention to their reactions. She desired to cause trouble for Mori, and even in a small way, this was mischief. Mori wanted to pretend she didn’t exist? Fine. She finally had the reason to show it to the world. Previously, she had kept it quiet since she had no contact with him. Now? Akira was standing in front of the Port Mafia after seeing her father. It was the right opportunity.

            “Either way, tell him I’ll see him in hell!” chirped Akira as she, Yosano (Y/N) walked away into the tunnel.

            “Was that necessary?” asked Yosano.

            “Nope!” Akira grinned devilishly. “But that’s what makes it fun.”

            (Y/N) sweat-dropped. “You’re going to get us killed someday…”

            “Probably, but at least it’ll be fun,” said Akira.

            A slight smile graced Yosano’s features. Shaking her head, (Y/N) lead the group to a ladder which led to a sewer grate. The map indicated for them to head up to street before splitting up. As they climbed, the sewer grate was lifted above them. (Y/N) held up a glowing hand in case it was an enemy, but the pleasant surprise of Kyouka and Atsushi.

            “Kyouka! Atsushi!” exclaimed (Y/N) and Yosano happily as they clambered out of the sewer.

            “Heya,” said Akira, recognizing the pair and pulling herself up to the street.

            They all hurried into the ambulance Atsushi and Kyouka were traveling in.

            “You!” Atsushi blinked. He hadn’t expected to see Akira again.

            “Yeah, yeah, me.” Akira waved a hand. “I decided to be nice and help (Y/N), and now I’m helping the entire Agency and on the run.”

            Atsushi nodded slowly.

            “We thought you two got killed! I’m glad you guys are okay,” said (Y/N).

            “No, we fought and escaped,” said Kyouka.

            “What happened to all of you?” asked Atsushi.

            After she healed Mitchell enough, Yosano related the rescue by the Port Mafia and the trip to the safehouse. She omitted the fighting that had gone on, but she explained how Fitzgerald had seemed to trick them and their escape with the mafia’s help once again.

            “Fitzgerald double-crossed you?” questioned Atsushi.

            “Yeah, it was a trap to lure us out of the safehouse,” said Yosano.

            “That’s not possible.” Atsushi’s somber gaze was leveled on Yosano. “Fitzgerald may be arrogant, but he values his employees. If he was going to trap the Agency, he’d do it after Mitchell here recovers.” Atsushi gestured to the young woman plugged into IVs in the ambulance.

            “That makes sense…” (Y/N) narrowed her eyes. However, it was a trap. Someone knew exactly what Fiztgerald’s plan was…There’s a spy involved.

            “Let’s go,” said Atsushi. He opened the window to the front seat. “Driver, we’re set—!”

            A military sword stuck out from the driver’s neck. Blood covered the dashboard.

            “We’re under attack!” cried Atsushi. “Get out of the truck!”

            Jumping out, (Y/N) froze as she spied the robed figure from before. I was right! Someone knows the plan!

            “Go, (Y/N),” said Yosano. “I’ll take him on.”

            “No!” (Y/N) shook her head vehemently. “We’ll have a better chance if we all fight toge—!”

            “You said it earlier. At least one of us has to survive to save the others and rebuild the Agency,” said Yosano. “And you need to keep Mitchell safe. You need to bring her to Fitzgerald before the authorities shut off the roads. That is our only hope for reviving the Agency!”

            “I’ll stay with you,” said Akira.

            “No!” Yosano glared at her.

            Akira narrowed her eyes. “You can’t order me—!”

            “Let me do this!” Yosano clenched her fist. I couldn’t save you from pain all those years ago! I let Mori ignore you and left you alone! I never came to find you! Let me save you now! Please, Akira…”

            The red-eyed woman blinked in shock at the admission. “Akiko—.”

            “Go. I know we’ll meet again.” Yosano smiled tenderly. “Then, we can catch up like proper friends.”

            Akira huffed and hid her concern behind annoyance. “Goddammit, don’t get yourself killed.”

            “Be safe, Yosano,” said (Y/N).

            Yosano nodded. “Right…”

            “I’ll drive,” said Kyouka, pulling the driver’s body out of its seat.

            With a final look over their shoulder at Yosano, the group got back into ambulance.

            “Akiko!” called Akira, holding the door open. “Watch out! Something strange is going on! I’m sure you’ve noticed it! That guy…doesn’t smell right. Please, be careful! I won’t forgive you if you die!”

            The ambulance drove away. Yosano watched it go before turning to her opponent.

            Akira, I’ll fight my hardest. I promise.

l

            In the ride over, the groups explained what had happened to them while separated. (Y/N) recounted what had happened in the woods and Port Mafia safehouse. Atsushi explained what Ranpo had told them of the Book and the page the Decay of the Angel possessed. He told of how they used it to manipulate reality and bring down the Agency. It was a terrifying power for the group to have, they were all aware of that. They remained quiet during the rest of the ride. Daunting prospects seemed to await them. They hoped that seeing Fitzgerald would lead to a better situation in some small way.

            They pulled into a small alley. Kyouka had already memorized the exact address of the Guild’s new headquarters, so it wasn’t hard for her to drive them back. They slipped quietly inside before anyone on the street noticed who they were.

            Fitzgerald frowned upon seeing them and remarked, “I believe we had a deal.”

            “Mitchell is outside in the ambulance, healed by our doctor,” said (Y/N). “We need your help in exchange for it.”

            “I believe I fulfilled my end,” said Fitzgerald.

            “Correction: Someone knew what was happening, and it turned into a trap,” snapped (Y/N). “We’ve now had to split up and are likely all in danger. So you really haven’t done anything for us.”

            Fitzgerald put his hands up. “All right, all right. I believe I remember someone your Detective Ranpo put away a recently. He can help your cause. Will that do, old sport?” asked the blonde man.

            (Y/N) nodded. “Can you find him?”

            “Of course,” said Fitzgerald jovially. “I have the ‘Eyes of God,’ after all.”

            He began to set up the system while Kyouka and Atsushi watched. Akira and (Y/N) hung back while observing. (Y/N) glanced at her friend.

            “I’m sorry for getting you dragged into all this. I would say you could leave, but…” (Y/N) trailed off.

            Akira chuckled. “But my bar is probably being watched and there’s a target on my back now as well.”

            “I’m sorry,” said (Y/N) sincerely.

            Akira waved a hand. “You tried to keep me out of it. I decided to keep looking into it and join you.” She shrugged. “You’re my best friend. It’s no big deal.”

            “Still, I feel like I’m messing everything up…” said (Y/N), sighing sadly.

            “You’re doing well,” she said.

            (Y/N) took a deep breath, and her breath caught for a moment. “I’m trying. I have to be tougher than I’ve ever been, especially since Dazai…” Her voice shook briefly. “Since Dazai got caught…it’s been hard. He’s the one who’s good with schemes and planning for the future. And then there’s Kunikida. He keeps the Agency strong, the next pick for it’s president after Fukuzawa. Everyone looks up to him. Don’t forget Ranpo and Yosano, the original operatives. Both are smart and strong.” (Y/N) bit her lip before continuing. “My point is that everyone who should be in charge here and could actually do something is gone. I’m not them. I’m doing my best, but I’m not them…”

            Akira grabbed (Y/N)’s shoulders. “You’re doing fine. You’ve kept it together. People listen to you. For God’s sake, even I do what you ask. And listen, I saw the way those kids—” Here she referred to Kenji, Atsushi, Kyouka, and Jun’ichiro “—looked at you. You’re their family. Sure, your boyfriend, Akiko, and glasses have roles they play at the Agency, but so do you. Glasses chose you to continue on for a reason. People naturally look to you. You easily work with the situation your given and bring about the best outcome. I mean, those kids instantly looked at you for guidance and reassurance. You gave them that and strength. You’re pushing forward so that the Agency has a future. You’re stronger than you think. You’re persevering, independent, kind, caring, confident, determined, everything the Agency needs at this moment. You’re doing great as yourself. I mean, come on, it’s in your nature.” Akira smirked. “Where (Y/N) (L/N) has a will; there’s a way.” She looked at her friend. “So, whaddya think? Can you do this?”

            (Y/N) grinned. “I’ve got the will.”

Chapter Text

           A dark-haired man, Mushitarou, sat in his cell in front of his paper and pencil. He was exhausted and had no idea what to write. Suddenly, a ceiling panel was propelled to the floor with green light. (Y/N) dropped down on top of it, and Kyouka, Akira, and Atsushi followed suit.

            “Infiltration successful,” said Kyouka.

            “Sech stempel schrecken geht durch mein gebein!” cried Mushitaro in fear.

             (Y/N) deadpanned at his irrational reaction.

            “Um, are you all right?” asked Atsushi, unsure of himself.

            “Wir sind hier, um dir zu helfen,” said Akira calmly.

            Atsushi, Kyouka, and (Y/N) blinked. Akira gestured at them to talk to him. Clearing her throat, (Y/N) stepped out.

            “I’m (Y/N) of the Armed Detective Agency. We’re here to help you,” said the (H/C)-haired woman. “The Agency has been framed by a group called the Decay of the Angel. You were captured before you could warn us of their trap. We used the ‘Eyes of God’ to pinpoint your location so we could rescue you.”

            “Any guards, Kyouka?” asked Atsushi.

            “Demon Snow has incapacitated them,” said Kyouka.

            “All right. Mushitarou, let’s get out of here,” said Atsushi.

            “I refuse,” huffed Mushitarou.

            The would-be rescuers deadpanned.

            “I predicted the Agency would come for me. You want my knowledge of the Decay of the Angel, don’t you? But I have no business with the likes of you,” said Mushitarou.

            “But you’re being held in this horrid place…don’t you want to escape?” asked Atsushi.

            “I’m used to captivity.” Mushitarou’s lip quivered for a moment. “Besides…I can’t drum up much interest in the outside world any longer.

            “I vote me knock him out and take him,” muttered Akira. She yelped as (Y/N) elbowed her sharply in the side.

            “We’re not doing that,” she said.

            “ ‘The manuscript,’ ” said Kyouka calmly.

            Mushitarou’s eyes widened, and he spun to face Kyouka. Instant fear flashed across his face.

            “Ranpo said that word is enough to make you bend,” said Kyouka.

            Mushitarou scowled. “You’re turning into a real crime syndicate, you know that?”

            (Y/N) shrugged. “Maybe.” A deep seriousness settled in her eyes. “But I made a vow to save the Agency. And I’ll do whatever it takes.”

            “Hmph…Well, in that case, do you people realize that what you’re doing is bank robbery?” challenged Mushitarou. “This is a government bank. Breaking in is a family. And save for the two in front of this cell, the guards are all civilians. You going to cut them down, too?”

            (Y/N) and Atsushi frowned. Mushitarou’s eyes darkened momentarily before smiling brightly.

            “Well, all right! I’ll do your bidding!” he chirped.

            “Thank you very much!” said Atsushi.

            “Thank you,” said (Y/N).

            “Let’s go already, before anyone catches us,” said Akira.

            “The escape route’s this way,” said Kyouka.

            They poked their heads out of the vault door. Guards already swarmed the area.

            “Too late,” muttered Akira.

            “They spotted the hole we snuck through,” said Kyouka.

            “Down that hall there’s no surveillance,” said (Y/N), pointing. “Let’s go.” It’s possibly too convenient, but it’s our only option.

            Mushitarou fell to the floor suddenly and rolled around while clutching his stomach. “I’ve got a sudden bellyache!” he cried dramatically.

            Alarm bells rung in (Y/N)’s mind. This would alert the guards, and then it would be over.

            “Are you alright?!” asked Atsushi worriedly.

            “Ohh, I’m done for! These might be my final moments!” wailed Mushitarou.

            Akira extended a single claw. “If I stab you, the pain will override the discomfort of your bellyache.”

            Kyouka pulled out her blade. “This will be more precise for the pressure point above the hip bone.”

            Akira smirked. “I like you. You have excellent ideas~!”

            Mushitarou jumped up. “Whooah! My pain is cured! What a pressure point that is! You didn’t even need to touch it!”

            (Y/N) sweat-dropped. At least it fixed the situation…

            No sooner had she said this and the entire group begun to travel once more, then Mushitarou gasped.

            “Oh, no!” He stumbled as if dizzy. “The angles of this hallway are attuned with the taurus phase of Kabbalah! It refers to ‘aleph,’ the Hebrew term for Aldebaran, the primary star of taurus! Do not take that path, foolish commoners!” His eyes were wild with feigned fear.

            (Y/N) deadpanned. “It’s not even believable this t—.”

            “There’s a pressure point for that, right?” asked Akira innocently.

            Kyouka nodded and held up her blade again.

            “Wow, the angles have fixed themselves!” cried Mushitarou happily.

            (Y/N) sighed exasperatedly and peered around the next corner. Two guards were listening to their radio before walking off.

            “The guards are leaving…?” she muttered to herself.

            “I hear noise outside,” said Kyouka, walking to the window.

            When they look out, the view of armed men led by Ango met them. It was no just the military police anymore. It was the Special Division.

            “They’ve surrounded us,” said Akira.

            “What?!” breathed Mushitarou as he gazed at Ango. “Him?!” He dropped to the floor under the window where the others already crouched. “This is bad. Very bad. Why on earth is he here?” he mumbled to himself. “Things have changed…I have to get out—at all costs!” He stood up and began walking through the halls confidently as the Agency and Akira followed behind. “Have you heard of the ‘Seventh Agency?’ I was captured by that agency once. It’s a criminal group specializing in coverups and damage control.”

            Kyouka nodded. “I’ve heard of it. It’s the group Dostoevsky rescued you from in exchange for helping him with ‘mutual destruction.’ ”

            “Ango Sakaguchi is the leader of that crime syndicate,” said Mushitarou.

            “What?” questioned (Y/N), eyes widening.

            “That’s not possible!” cried Atsushi. “Ango’s a government agent!”

            “You still don’t see?” snapped Mushitarou. “The ‘government’ created the group. The Seventh Agency is their darkness. They erase government crimes, hatch illegal schemes, coverup scandals, and I’ll admit it, they gave me evidence, and I destroyed it for them.”

            “Ango runs a criminal gang?” Atsushi looked down. “I can’t believe this.”

            “The government is untrustworthy. I’m not surprised they’d have something like that,” said Akira.

            “If he catches me right now, he’ll confine for life,” continued Mushitarou. “And you’ll be rubbed out for knowing the truth.”

            “Then being surrounded is terrible news,” remarked (Y/N). “Their agents are skilled against the gifted. They’ll use bombs and poison gas if it comes to it.”

            Mushitarou chuckled arrogantly. “It’s simple, then. Don’t get found, and all is well.” He smirked. “Exactly who do you people think I am?”

            He started down the hall once again. His companions held back when they spied a camera, but Mushitarou walked on.

            “Just walk normally,” he said.

            Miraculously, they walked directly into the camera’s sight and didn’t raise the alarm.

            “See? We waltzed right through,” said Mushitarou. He waved a stack of money. “If I use my ‘evidence-hiding’ gift while we carry stolen goods, I can erase us from any kind of surveillance footage.”

            “Very helpful,” admitted (Y/N).

            “Amazing!” commented Atsushi.

            “Yes! Who could stop me from becoming one with the devil right now?!” cried Mushitarou dramatically. “Praise the absolute king of devils before you!”

            Akira put a claw to his throat. “Shut it.”

            “Yes’m,” said the eccentric man meekly.

            “Stop!” declared Atsushi, throwing out a hand.

            In front of them, blocking their path to escape, stood the military police with Ango at their head. The escapees ducked around the corner.

            “What?! Why?! My gift should be perfect…” muttered Mushitarou.

            “No way…is this Ango’s gift…?” wondered Atsushi.

            (Y/N) frowned and considered the situation. “There’s a dead end behind us. The only places to hide are three vaults, but we’d be trapped.” Damnit, damnit, damnit! Why can’t I know what to do?!

            Suddenly, Mushitarou broke from a small trance. A confidence nobody had yet seen in him shone in his eyes. “This way!” he declared. He led them into one of the vaults. Looking at Kyouka, he said, “Have your ability go into another vault and close the door.”

            Kyouka looked to (Y/N). A silent question rested in her eyes. She wanted (Y/N)’s reassurance that it was the right move.

            (Y/N) nodded. “Do it,” she said.

            Demon Snow materialized in the hall outside and darted towards another vault. She slammed the door behind her.

            “Target sighted!” cried an officer. “He’s fleeing into a vault!”

            “Neutralize him!” ordered Ango. “Gift Warfare Squad to the front!”

            The division stormed down the hall.

            “Explosives in place!” declared an agent. “Breaching charge ready to go! We’re going in!”

            The grenade exploded. In the smoke, the hidden group darted out. They slipped out the window into the nearest alley. Going out the main entrance was obviously too risky.

            “We went out with a bang!” chirped Akira as they ran.

            (Y/N) shook her head and chuckled. “Yes, we did.”

            “That certainly went well!” said Atsushi.

            Mushitarou cackled happily. “Take that, Special Division!” He smirked. “It was a piece of cake. A classic closed-room vanishing trick!” He posed dramatically. “It’s a trick that takes advantage of a classic mental blind spot—‘There’s no way they’d in a room with an open door.’ The smarter the target, the more they fall for it.” His maniacal laughter started again. “Intelligence can cloud your senses! Like Odin sacrificing an eye to Mimir’s well of knowledge!”

            “Is that so?” asked Kyouka blankly.

            Mushitarou flinched and glanced at her sheathed blade. “Ah, I’m sorry!”

            “Your fine this time,” said Akira. “No pressure points are needed here~.”

            “But still, that was a smart last-minute idea,” said Atsushi, smiling.

            “Last minute…?” Mushitarou calmed. “Not…Not quite.” He looked down, and memories swirled in his eyes. “I was taught it long ago.”

            “By whom?” asked the weretiger.

            Mushitarou remained quiet for a moment.

            “Let’s just find a car and put more distance between us and the military police,” said (Y/N).

            “My gift will erase all evidence of our car theft,” said Mushitarou. “There’ll be no camera footage, and no police radioing in that they’ve spotted the stolen vehicle. We can be as showy as we please! They’ll never pursue us.”

            Kyouka pointed to a grate. “If we take the sewers here, we can reach the parking lot without security finding us.”

            (Y/N) lifted her hand, palm up, and the grate lifted. She carefully set it to the side with minimal sound. “There.”

            Atsushi crouched down. “I’ll go first.”

            The tiniest ‘fwick’ sounded, and feathered dart appeared in Atsushi’s neck. The group whirled, and the appearance of a grenade captured their attention. Akira moved instinctively. With a precise movement, she cut it in half with a single, sharpened claw. Next thing she knew, a dart landed in her own neck. The fake grenade lay in pieces at her feet.

            “Shit…a trap,” she staggered. “Goddammit…” Crumpling, she fell on her wounded side. Akira hissed as pain shot up her body.

            (Y/N) lowered her gently to the ground with Atsushi. She and Kyouka looked around carefully. Two more darts sped towards them, but (Y/N)’s ability stopped them. Ango stepped out of the shadows.

            “I can’t have this,” said Ango. “Making you think you can flee from me that easily.”

            “That’s crazy!” exclaimed Mushitarou. “How did you…?”

            “Ango!” (Y/N) leveled her eyes at him, her gaze somber. “You have to listen to me. The Agency is innocent.”

            Ango raised an eyebrow.

            “There’s another enemy out there. You know that’s true! Trust me!” said (Y/N).

            “I should know that?” remarked Ango. “Well, yes, of course, I should know that. Given my ability. It allows me to extract and read memories left behind on objects. That’s how I discovered your escape route. I used my skill to examine the whole scene. And so I can say—” his eyes narrowed “The Agency is the culprit and also behind the our chief’s stabbing.”

            “Ranpo said as much,” said Kyouka. “That the government has a memory-reading gifted. That and if they get us, it’s the death penalty.”

            “Honestly, you expect a secret government group to ‘trust you?’ ” questioned Ango. “To the very end, the Agency’s jokes never elicited so much as a chuckle from me.” He stepped closed to Atsushi and raised his gun.

            (Y/N)’s ability flashed to life. “I don’t ask for the government to listen. Only you.”

            Suddenly, Ango pushed Atsushi into the sewer. The green light flitting around (Y/N)’s hands died away.

            “What’re you—?” she began.

            Ango raised a finger to his lips and pushed Akira into the sewer next (she cursed him and the pain her injury caused). Confused but relieved, (Y/N) nodded and jumped down. She was followed by Kyouka and Mushitarou (though he had to be pushed). Echoing down from above, the voices of Ango and his officers carried the future of the Agency in their hands. If they were caught now, it was all over. However, Ango directed the squad in another direction before looking down to the Agency once more.

            “Now…” he said. “Dostoevsky should conclude that we’re fighting against each other.” He motioned for them to climb out.

            “Thank y—,” began Atsushi.

            “Follow me,” said Ango, ignoring Atsushi. He led them to his car, which they all piled into.

            “Bureaucrats…” muttered Akira, stumbling from the continued drug effect.

            “So…you believe the Agency is innocent?” asked (Y/N) as they drove on.

            “Believe? No, not at all,” said Ango. He glanced into the rearview mirror at Atsushi and Kyouka. “You two saw the message from Dazai in Fitzgerald’s office, right? I was the one who sent that.”

            (Y/N) blinked. Dazai can contact people…?

            “I refrained from sending it, but he had a…tactless note for you (Y/N). Quite sentimental for my taste,” said Ango. “However, he’ll probably cause me trouble if I don’t tell you. He says…” he coughed uncomfortably. “ ‘I love you, (Y/N).’ ”

            I love him, too. (Y/N) flushed. She didn’t need to hear any of the words Dazai sent to her. The simply idea of him thinking of her was enough. She worried for her, but knowing he was still up to something comforted her. Dazai, my love, I hope to see you soon…

            “So, from the start?” commented Atsushi.

            “Yes, Dazai and I were together from the start,” said Ango. “I am an ‘intermediary’ for him while he’s imprisoned.”

            “How does he communicate with you?” asked (Y/N).

            “To prevent escapes from Meursault Prison, inmates are implanted with a device that monitors their vitals,” explained Ango. “Dazai can use that to digitize messages and vary his heartrate to send them, and I can use my government access to view his records and decipher them.”

            “He can adjust his heartrate at will?” asked Akira. “You’ve got a badass boyfriend, (Y/N).”

            “Nobody but Dazai could pull that off,” said Ango. “It’s impossible to detect.”

            “I don’t trust you,” said Mushitarou, crossing his arms. “You’re my enemy. Why did you need to pull that act?”

            “Because Dostoevsky’s eyes could be anywhere,” said Ango. “Besides, you couldn’t have escaped otherwise. With my ability to read memories from objects, I could’ve tracked any would-be getaway car. If I opted not to, our enemy would grow suspicious.”

            “Enemy?” remarked Mushitarou, narrowing his eyes. He scoffed. “The viciously cunning Seventh Agency fears enemies?”

            “About that, Mushitarou. You were told that I worked for the Seventh Agency, then?” said Ango.

            “And what if I was?” challenged Mushitarou.

            “Simple,” said Ango. “I am not a Seventh Agency man at all. That was a Dostoevsky lie to make you try to avoid me. This was his only fear, you see. Both of us, talking like this. But let’s continue in a safer place.”

Chapter Text

            “Come on! What is wrong with you?!” cried Lucy Montgomery, face flushed with a combination of annoyance and worry. ((Y/N) suspected the concern was for Atsushi more than anyone else)

            The group stood in Anne’s Room. Ango had taken them to Lucy, who evidently had been picked up by the government ((Y/N) suspected she insisted the Agency was innocent). The (H/C)-haired woman was glad that she was on their side. It was nice to know one more person was on their side.

            “Becoming a wanted man?! Explain yourself!” demanded Lucy, hitting Atsushi angrily.

            Atsushi yelped and held up his hands in an effort to block the barrage.

            “Are they alright?” murmured Mushitarou.

            Ango ignored the question and instead said, “Only those chosen by her can come in here. It’s the safest place in the world.”

            “But…Lucy, why are you with Ango anyway?” asked Atsushi.

            Lucy turned red. “Well…That…That, uh…No big reason, really…”

            “Uhuh, sure,” said Akira, grinning.

            “I’m watching over her.” Ango pushed up his glasses. “She marched right up to our investigation HQ. Our investigators were busy subduing her when I passed by and took her in.”

            (Y/N) chuckled. She had been correct in her assumption.

            “Don’t say it!” Lucy buried her blushing face in her hands.

            “Forget about that,” said Mushitarou seriously. “Tell me, Ango Sakaguchi—That group confined me and made me destroy evidence for them. They were the Seventh Agency, evil to the core. So out with it. Are you their leader or not?”

            “I am not,” said Ango.

            “Then…Have you ever used the Seventh Agency’s services?” questioned Mushitarou.

            (Y/N) looked at Ango. She wondered how he would answer.

            Ango looked down. Shame flickered across his face. “I have.”

            “Then I have no reason to cooperate with you,” spat Mushitarou. He turned away.

            “But…” Ango words made Mushitarou stop. “…I only used them a single time. Four years ago…so that Dazai could live outside the mafia. I made his past sins disappear.”

            (Y/N)’s eyes widened. So that’s how Dazai got caught…Mushitarou’s gify must somehow stopped working and the evidence was found. Abilities can only go so far…

            Mushitarou scowled. “So why’d you dirty your hands that one time?”

            Memories swelled in Ango’s eyes. “As atonement…to a friend no longer with me.”

            (Y/N) had a suspicion that it was Sakunosuke Oda. After all, Dazai had the same reaction to memories of his friend, and it appeared that Ango knew Dazai when he was transitioning out of the Port Mafia.

            Her heart clenched as she thought of Dazai. She could clearly remember the night he opened up and told her how and why he escaped the Port Mafia. Odasaku had been his closest friend. Under the night sky, Dazai spoke for hours about the great man Odasaku was and how inspiring he was. It had been an honor for (Y/N) to hear about him.

            “A friend no longer with you…” Mushitarou looked down.

            “Mushitarou…It’s as you say. The Seventh Agency is evil,” admitted Ango. “The ‘Seventh Agency,’ the government’s own crime syndicate. It’s size, staff, and chain of command are all unknown. Rumors say it’s under auspices of the public safety or internal affairs offices, but nobody knows. Even I had to go through four intermediaries to meet their agent. Given their role in concealing government crime…they could blackmail the government at any time. The Seventh Agency, paired with Dostoevsky…I couldn’t think of a worse team up. If both of them worked together on something…”

            (Y/N) shuddered. Giving Fyodor the tiniest bit of power is the worst move possible…I can’t imagine what must be going on now…

            “I see. So that’s why you’re working alone?” Mushitarou frowned understandingly.

            “Yes,” answered Ango.

            Atsushi cocked his head. “What do you mean?”

            “Bureaucrat bitch here thinks there’s a spy in the government,” said Akira. She was fairly annoyed at being pushed into the sewer since her side was aching. She was pretty certain that her injury was bleeding again, too.

            (Y/N) nodded. “It makes sense.”

            “I can’t trust anybody in there.” Ango’s voice held the burden of concern. “I’m the only one who can take revenge for the chief. That’s why I need to hear what Mushitarou knows. What was Dostoevsky willing to lie about to keep hidden? We need your knowledge of that.”

            “We’d really like your help, too,” said Atsushi.

            “You have no obligation, but we would be forever grateful,” said (Y/N).

            Kyouka bowed. “Please, sir.”

            Mushitarou glanced at Akira. She sighed and rolled her eyes.

            “Just do it. You don’t have anything to lose,” she said.

            Mushitarou blanked. Huffing, he turned and crossed his arms. “Where do you want me to begin?”

            (Y/N) and Atsushi beamed.

            “Make no mistake! It’s only because your skill can read my mind anyway!” declared Mushitarou, a single finger extended towards Ango.

            “What’s with this guy…?” wondered Lucy.

            “He’s weird, but pressure points seem to help.” A foxy smirk flashed across Akira’s face.

            Lucy was left with a perplexed expression.

            “Know this!” Danger and warning rested in Mushitarou’s voice. “In five minutes, you’ll regret this. It’s all information that will leave you utterly horrid.”

            Nevertheless, Ango persevered. “Let’s start with the big question—What is the ‘Decay of the Angel?’ ”

            “The ‘Decay of the Angel’ terror cell has five members—Dostoevsky the Conjurer, Gogol the Clown, two other crack gifted…and at the top, there’s the ‘founder’ managing them,” said Mushitarou.

            “So Fyodor isn’t the mastermind…” murmured (Y/N). It was strange to even consider that Fyodor wasn’t in charge after all he had done. However, she believed Mushitarou. And anyways, she knew that Fyodor probably embellished any ideas given to him. After all, he obviously tried to keep her to himself, which was his own plan. (Y/N) frowned. And yet, he got caught. I wonder if that was planned…and if it was…then everything is going as he wished. He even wanted me to be freed again. But for what? Is it to get me to let down my guard? Was he hoping an accomplice of his would turn up at that café first and keep me hidden away for Fyodor’s return? And all that business with the Book. Will he use that power to make me care for him? She shuddered. Why hasn’t he already? It’s possible it’s because he has some strange…thing for people with complex minds (which apparently mine fits). Maybe he wasn’t allowed to by the true leader, but he seems to be intent on continuing his obsession. He tried to make me seem like the Agency’s hostage so I would be seen as innocent. I am steadily unravelling that lie, but still…it appears Fyodor won’t stop. She looked up. Dazai…I wish you were here. You’d see through all of this in an instant.

            “I don’t know their final goal, but I’ve heard everything up to that point,” continued Mushitarou. “They want to ‘wipe out’ this nation.”

            Akira jerked to attention. “Excuse me, the hell does that mean?!”

            “Not overthrow its leaders…?” questioned Ango.

            “That…That’s insane! They could never do that!” cried Atsushi.

            “It can’t be possible…” breathed (Y/N). A small part of her reminded her that there was always a possibility. The Decay of the Angel was dangerous enough.

            “They can and will,” said Mushitarou. “Did you forget? They have one of the ‘pages.’ ”

            “Huh? But just the one, right?” asked Atsushi. “Didn’t they use it to shut down the Agency?”

            “That they did,” said Mushitarou. “But they can still use it one more time.”

            (Y/N) exhaled in realization. “The other side of the page…”

            “Correct.” Mushitarou nodded. “The page takes effect when one side is filled with writing, and it was blank on both sides to start with. So they can still use it one more time…That power that triggers calamities.”

            “Why haven’t they used it yet?” questioned Akira. With every twist in the situation, she was becoming more and more invested in actually helping. It was strange for her, but she ignored the feeling. Akira might dislike most aspects of the world and the people in it, but she didn’t want her life destroyed. And, more importantly, her best friend’s and her love’s. She felt a pang in her chest. Chuuya…God, I want to see him…

            “Because of the ‘consistency’ limit,” said Ango. “For a page to trigger, the text written has to have the narrative consistency of a story, correct?”

            Mushitarou nodded. “You got it. Thanks to that, any vast conspiracies would be far too long to fit on a single sheet. So they’ll only write the important points while they handle the details themselves. To be exact, their plan has four steps. Step One—use ‘mutual destruction’ to give the Agency the Birch Bow Prize, making them close to the government.”

            (Y/N) scowled. So the failure had been planned. Then…I believe I know which idea of mine is correct. Fyodor was probably willing to “give me up” for the sake of the plan. He wouldn’t allow anything to go wrong if he had planned to “keep” me. However, that means that another level of his plan for the future is to try to take me again. She narrowed her eyes. I won’t let him. I’ll fight and stop the entire plan as soon as possible.

            “Step Two—use one side of the page to change reality and trap the Agency,” said Mushitarou. “Step Three, the one we’re currently on—stage another terror attack. And last—Step Four, write on the other side—.”

            “And destroy the nation? Is that it?” asked Atsushi. “Which means Step Four is simply putting words to paper. If we want to stop them, it’ll have to be now, during Step Thre…”

            “And those words…will be written on the next full moon,” said Mushitarou gravely.

            “Shit…” growled Akira.

            “Ten more days…” breathed (Y/N).

            “Damn…” Ango put his head in his hand. “Yes, I do feel rather horrid now.”

            (Y/N)’s eyes hardened. “We need to move quickly. We can’t waste a minute.”

            Ango straightened. “Of course. I’ll go escort Mushitarou and give the news to Dazai. I will return afterwards.” They walked to the door.

            “Ango!” called (Y/N). “If you can…tell Dazai that I miss him.”

            Ango nodded, and then he and Mushitarou were gone. The door slammed shut. The Agency descended into silence.

            “Hey…” Lucy stepped towards Atsushi. “I get it if you feel down…but cheer up, okay?”

            Atsushi burst out laughing. “We did it!” He beamed at the senior detective next to him. “We did it, (Y/N)!”

            She grinned. “We did, indeed. We have a fighting chance…!”

            “I’m very happy as well,” said Kyouka, her face remaining inexpressive.

            “We might get a fun, good old-fashioned fight soon,” said Akira, smirking.

            “Huh? What’s with you guys?” Lucy was taken aback.

            “I’m so glad. This is great!” said Atsushi.

            Kyouka nodded, and Akira’s sharp teeth flashed predatorily in the light as she smirked.

            “Yes, it is!” said (Y/N).

            “Uh…What are you saying?! Did the pressure make you guys crack?!” cried Lucy.

            “Don’t you see?” said (Y/N). “There are ten days until Step Four. They won’t, indeed, they can’t write anything before then.”

            Lucy was confused.

            Atsushi continued the explanation. “They used one side to change reality and make the Agency criminals. I thought there was no way to overturn that. But I was wrong. All we have to do is take the page back and write ‘The Agency is innocent’ on it! That’ll restore everything back to normal!

            “Within ten days, we need to find the Decay of the Angel, defeat them, and seize the page,” said Kyouka.

            “That’s it! That’s all there is to it!” said Atsushi.

            “Shit, even I’m feeling hopeful,” said Akira.

            “Alright…” (Y/N) looked up. Courage flowed through her veins, steadily pumping her with the strength she needed. “We can save the Agency.”

Chapter Text

            The group stood in an alley outside of Anne’s Room. Ango had returned from placing Mushitarou in a safehouse. (Y/N) was back in her usual Agency outfit, which Ango had retrieved (running around in bloody military outfits wouldn’t be smart) at mostly Dazai’s request (Ango didn’t say it since it was annoying, but Dazai had said he wanted to see his beautiful girlfriend in her best when they next met). Soon, they would embark on the mission to save the Agency. They were going to the Sky Casino, but not before discussing what they had to do to stop the Decay of the Angel’s plan to use coins which doubled as bombs to kill thousands of civilians. A panic would ensure and plunge the world into a depression which could cause a world war. The Agency needed to capture Sigma, the casino owner, to get a lead on the page. They would have to sneak into the Sky Casino to do so.

            “The goal of this infiltration mission is to stop the ‘Step Three’ terror attack and seize the ‘page,’ ” said Ango. “However, since the Agency is a wanted group, you cannot take action in the public eye.” He gestured to Lucy. “That’s where she comes in. Miss Montgomery can deploy her trans-dimensional ‘Anne’s Room’ around herself. Only those chosen by her are allowed entry inside. Thus, if we transport you three inside of her room. You can get into enemy sites undetected. The government doesn’t have their sights on her, so she won’t get reported. In other words, she is the ‘heart’ of our operation.”

            “You heard him!” Lucy grinned proudly. “These ears would like to hear some gratitude, tabby cat!”

            (Y/N) chuckled at the reference to Atsushi.

            “…I’m sorry,” said Atsushi.

            “Sorry for what?” asked Lucy.

            “For getting you involved in this. Aiding and abetting us is a serious crime now…” said Atsushi. “I guess we owe you now, huh? So much, I don’t think we could ever fully pay you back.”

            Lucy blinked. “Why? If anyone has a debt too big to pay back around here…it’s me, isn’t it?”

            A second of silence passed.

            “What?” Atsushi cocked his head.

            “What?” echoed Lucy. She realized what she had said and turned completely red. “No! Never mind! I take it back!”

            Akira snickered while (Y/N) hid a smile at the girl’s reaction.

            “Let’s just get on with the mission…” mumbled Lucy.

            Akira looked to Ango. “Hey, glasses—”

            I thought that was Kunikida’s nickname, thought (Y/N).

            “—Is it safe for me to stay out of Anne’s Room?” The devilish woman crossed her arms. “You only mentioned those three—” she gestured to Kyouka, Atsushi, and (Y/N) “—being transported by pinky.”

            (Y/N) sweat-dropped. She knows everybody’s names, and yet…

            “The Hunting Dogs Jouno and Tetchou—”

            Case-in-point.

            “—saw me.” Akira narrowed her eyes. “You’re very precise with your language, glasses, so I believe you intentionally meant for me to stay out of the room. However, I am very invested in self-preservation, so unless there isn’t a reason for me to worry, I won’t be walking out in the open.”

            Ango pushed up his glasses. “You’re the ticket into the Sky Casino. You can play the part of affluent gambler better than us—” here he clearly referred to how Akira would often join business and political gatherings in order to gather information “—and…you are the wealthiest here.”

            Akira smirked proudly.

            “And as for recognizing you as a criminal, security in the Sky Casino hasn’t received notifications of criminals aiding the Agency yet,” said Ango. “The Hunting Dogs won’t be a problem because of jurisdiction issues in the casino and because you have taken care most of your life to leave little record of your existence. Even if they come, I suspect that in a den of the rich, powerful, and criminals, they’ll struggle to have complete control of the situation.”

            Akira nodded. (Y/N) leaned towards Lucy.

            “Don’t let her gamble or play any games. I have a bad feeling she’d be a little too good at it and get sucked in,” said (Y/N).

            Lucy nodded hesitantly.

            Ango clapped. “It’s time.”

            “Ango.” (Y/N) looked seriously at him. “Please tell Dazai that I love him.”

            The government official sighed but nodded. He really didn’t want to relay something so sentimental, but he understood why. It was just in case anything happened. It was just in case (Y/N) didn’t return.

            “Okay, here goes.” Lucy snapped her fingers, letting Kyouka, Atsushi, and (Y/N) disappear back into Anne’s Room.

            Akira and Lucy walked out to a street and hailed a taxi.

            “Take us to the airtram terminal.”

l

Earlier…

            “So…let’s look over the status of our investigation,” said Tachihara, standing in his Hunting Dog uniform with Teruko on his shoulders.

            “Okay!” cheered Teruko.

            Tachihara spread the files out on the table. “The ‘Decay of the Angel’…a vicious terrorist organization, unaffiliated with any nation,” he said. “In the hostage crisis, they were discovered to be the Armed Detective Agency.”

            “Uh-huh, uh-huh, and then?!” chirped Teruko.

            “They’ve claimed at least a hundred lives worldwide. Their arrest is the current top priority of the nation’s judicial branch,” said Tachihara. He flipped a page and looked up. “Now, evidence suggested that (Y/N) (L/N) was taken as a hostage, presumably because she discovered what the Agency was.”

            “She survived the situation because of her gift, correct?” asked Jouno. After Tachihara nodded, he continued, “I noticed she continued to assist the Agency. You were with her for a bit, Tachihara, why is she helping them?”

            “She truly believes they’re innocent, even though she was tortured and nearly killed by them, which was testified by Mr. Tonan,” said Tachihara. “I can’t explain it, but she believes something else is going on.”

            Tetchou hummed. “Perhaps it’s similar to Stockholm Syndrome.”

            Tachihara nodded. “It might be. She is dating one of the more notorious Agency members, after all.”

            “What of the associate they have?” remarked Jouno. “Akira.” He furrowed his brow at the name.

            “As you know, she’s gotten information on government officials from low-ranking employees in the past,” said Tachihara. “We have little other verified information on her. I know that her full name is Akira Mori—” the Hunting Dogs’ eyes narrowed “—yes, as in Ogai Mori.”

            “So because of her connection with the Port Mafia, she’s helping them assist the Agency?” questioned Tetchou.

            Tachihara shook his head. “She seems to know the doctor and (Y/N) (L/N). I presume that’s why she’s helping.” He refrained from speaking on how Akira clearly cared about the other two women and hated Mori. He couldn’t explain why he didn’t disclose any weaknesses; he just didn’t.

            “Anything else?” chirped Teruko.

            “I suspect she has an ability, but I’m not sure of its nature,” said Tachihara.

            Jouno crossed his arms purposefully. “From now on, view her as an enemy similar to (Y/N) (L/N). Incapacitate but don’t kill. They are misguided souls, clinging to the delusion of the Agency’s innocence.”

            Tachihara frowned. He had seen the look in Akira’s and (Y/N)’s eyes when they spoke. They must be seriously misled to have that much conviction…They do not seem to be fools…So why are they doing this?

l

            “What?! You still haven’t found a wife, Fukuzawa?!” cried Fukuchi.

            “My work keeps me busy,” answered Fukuzawa.

            “You wallflower! Kin back home is cryin’ for you!”

            “Are you sure you’d like to speak about such a topic?”

            Fukuchi looked down. “It’s a tough one…I suppose I’ll drop the subject…”

            Fukuzawa hummed.

            “So, you run the Agency, eh?” Fukuchi changed the topic.

            “And you’re running an army unit, Genichirou?”

            “You sound incredulous! I’ll have you know, as a leader I’ve got real power! A hundred times more than you!

            “Not a hundred,” said Fukuzawa.

            “Fifty!” suggested Fukuchi.

            “No.”

            “…Five?”

            “Yes, it’s five times better. Amazing,” said Fukuzawa to mollify Fukuchi as he poured him another drink. A moment of somber silence passed.

“Confess already,” said Fukuchi, breaking the quiet.

            Fukuzawa remained silent and somber.

            “Have your staff turn themselves in. It’ll be turned over to persecution, and the Hunting Dogs will cease to be involved,” said Fukuchi. “Then, I’ll be in a position where I can protect you. But as long as you’re my target, I can’t. The Hunting Dogs crush all their foes. That’s how I raised them.” The military man sighed at Fukuzawa’s silence. “Come now, Fukuzawa. I know you must be innocent. You wouldn’t be this cruel after everything we’ve experienced. We’d give our lives to save civilians, like Nanako did.”

            Fukuchi nodded gravely. “Like Nanako did…”

            “The one case I haven’t solved,” said Fukuzawa, looking down.

l

            “Queen to E2,” said Dazai.

            Fyodor narrowed his eyes a sliver. “You’re putting the queen in danger’s path? How bold, I thought you’d refrain from that if possible. Alas, I knew this is the path you’d end up taking.”

            “Oh?” Dazai smirked and raised an eyebrow. “What was my other line of thinking, oh great mind-reader?”

            Fyodor scoffed. “Miss Montgomery is an important piece at this time. However, the queen will always be Angel.” He smirked, and to the guards watching security feeds, pure evil seemed to flash in the Russian’s eyes. “I can’t say I blame you.”

            “Her name is (Y/N).” Dazai became serious. “I wouldn’t recommend continuing that mistake.” He smirked. “After all, she not the queen because she has my heart. She’s the queen because she’s the piece that can sway this battle in the Agency’s favor.”

            “Oh?” Fyodor cocked his head. “I’ve seen demonstrations of her power, to be sure, but I seem to recall that she works in the background. I believe you send the weretiger to face enemies head on.”

            “Plans have turned out that way, yes, but…(Y/N)’s always there, haven’t you realized?” Dazai leaned back. A condescending smirk split his face. “Ability or not, she’s always nearby. If anything goes wrongs, she’ll fix it. Atsushi fought Fitzgerald on the Moby Dick, but (Y/N) was below. During Mukurotoride, (Y/N) herself took out the dragon form of Shibusawa so that Atsushi, Akutagwa, Kyouka, and Akira could take him on. You might have kidnapped (Y/N) during your plan, but if I recall…I ended up finding you so quickly precisely for that reason.”

            “So…you believe that she somehow effects the outcomes of situations?” Fyodor considered. “Ah…I see.” He smirked in understanding. “Her gift…”

            “There’s a Will; There’s a Way,” said Dazai, fondness touching his voice at the thought of his love’s ability. “You describe her as an angel because she is ‘pure’ and separate from the ‘sinners’ of the world.” A smirk spread across his face. “You’re wrong.”

            Fyodor’s satisfied expression fell, but he collected himself. “Opinions can be considered wrong with those whose beliefs differ.”

            Dazai chuckled. “Perhaps, but indulge me for a moment.”

            Fyodor sighed. “Very well, continue.”

            “Thank you.” Dazai nodded to him. “Now, people assume that the (Y/N)’s ability is to control items in her line of sight her with her hand movements, but they’re wrong. She doesn’t need to see or really move her hands. She’s breaking out of those limits. However, that still doesn’t truly explain the nature of her gift.”

            “Oh? And what is its nature?” Fyodor leaned forward with interest.

            “It’s in the name. Her will is her power.”

            “Does that change how her ability works?” questioned Fyodor.

            “Maybe not.” Dazai shrugged. “But…it does mean that the more you push her, the more she wants to win more than anything else…the stronger she is. And…the stronger she makes everyone else. They work better when she’s near them. She can’t weaken anyone, nor can she control how others act, but she can give people subtle strength.”

            “She wills it to be so…” breathed Fyodor.

            A malicious grin spread across Dazai’s face. “So, Fyodor…I’d start to worry about how far you’re making (Y/N) go to win. You’re fueling her will to win. You’re giving her boundless strength.”

Chapter Text

            Lucy bounced up and down and glanced around. It was nerve-wracking to be infiltrating such a fancy casino. She stood out like a sore thumb in her dress. True, it wasn’t shabby, but it wasn’t the ornate gowns or suits of the truly rich (or those trying to seem so) around her. Lucy huffed and tapped her foot. Akira had said she’d return and disappeared a few minutes ago. Lucy was all alone without the one person who could actually act like she fit in.

            “Alright, let’s go, pinky,” said Akira, moving like a shadow to Lucy’s shoulder.

            The girl jumped and looked, wide-eyed in surprise, at Akira. She was wearing a long black gown with high neckline and long sleeves. Two long slits along the sides allowed for graceful movement.

            “Where did you get that?! Is now the time?!” hissed Lucy.

            Akira threw a hand over her shoulder and leaned in. To all the world, she looked like a doting sister reassuring her anxious sibling. “I don’t waste time. I want this to go off without a hitch. And quite frankly, standing around in bloody, ripped clothing won’t be covert, will it? So, let’s get on with our job, shall we?” She stood up straighter and began to walk forward.

            “How did you even get that?” asked Lucy, hurrying to catch up.

            “Charmed it off a girl in the bathroom,” teased Akira. Seeing Lucy’s shocked look, she rolled her eyes. “Nothing like that.” I already have someone I love. “I spilled champagne on myself, and I convinced her that I needed a new outfit. She happily agreed, and she has another dress. Rich people are like that.”

            Lucy breathed a sigh of relief. Starting out this mission by stealing a girl’s dress wouldn’t be very good. However, it seemed to go better as they weaved through the crowds. Akira even focused and didn’t look at the poker games. No one thought they were out of place. People’s gazes fell on Akira, but that was because of her stunning appearance, not because she looked suspicious. However, a sudden wail attracted everyone’s attention.

            “Please! That was my entire fortune!” cried an older gentleman.

            “Kojak full house,” said the dealer. “You lose.”

            “One more game!” begged the poor man. “I can’t pay for my daughter’s surgery any other way! Please! If I have the money, I can save her! Don’t abandoned a ten-year-old child! Please, please show mercy!”

            Akira suddenly couldn’t hear the world. The chatter buzzed around her in a dull thrum, but it barely registered. Somewhere in her mind she registered telling Lucy to go on while there was a distraction as she continued forward. All she could hear was the desperation in the old man’s voice. That type of need to protect one’s child couldn’t be faked. Akira could feel the urgency radiating from him, the pure need to save his daughter. He’s protecting his daughter…His ten-year-old daughter…Barely young than I— Her heart clenched. He must really love her… Without thinking, Akira strode forwards. She disregarded Lucy’s attempt to stop her. Flicking her wrist, yen from the sleeve of her dress dropped into her hand (she had it so she could bribe guards). Before Akira could arrive next to him, a young man walked into the room and gained everyone’s attention.

            “What’s going on here?” he asked. He wore an elegant ensemble of cream, white, grey, and purple. He had long hair, which was white on one side and lilac on the other. Grey eyes gazed at the situation with intensity.

            Sigma, just the man we’re looking for, thought Akira, slipping the yen back into her sleeve and melting back into the crowd. However, now is not the right time for making our move.

            “M-Manager!” stuttered the dealer. “I apologize! I will handle this at—.”

            “Silence.” Sigma stepped closer to the two men. “I will have no unsightliness. Anyone who damages our elegance…we don’t need in my casino.” He held up a playing card. “Look! There’s an illegal blemish on this card’s rear. This hand is annulled.”

            “Huh?” The poor man blinked.

            Akira tilted her head. Interesting. A member of the Decay of the Angel is helping someone with seemingly no manipulation.

            “Sir.” Sigma knelt and took the man’s hand, smiling kindly. “I’m deeply sorry for our staff’s improper behavior. If you’d like, I can be the dealer for you next hand.”

            Fascinated (and unable to leave without being obvious), Akira watched as Sigma carefully dealt the cards in a manner that allowed the poor man to win. No patrons noticed since they weren’t looking for it, but Akira’s criminal nature allowed her to see. She couldn’t help but smile and clap with the crowd as the man celebrated. Her heart was overjoyed to see that a father was able to save his daughter.

            Alright, she thought, turning. Time to go. It all worked out. Akira glanced over her shoulder at the exit of the room. She needed to find the others. And if I don’t…I’ll find Sigma again for myself.

l

            Inside a small room, Lucy released Atsushi, Kyouka, and (Y/N) from Anne’s Room.

            “Where’s Akira?” asked (Y/N) in concern while Atsushi slipped out for a moment to lead Tachihara to the coins.

            “Some guy was pleading for money to save his daughter, and she went towards him. She told me to go, and I tried to stop her first, but she wouldn’t listen,” said Lucy.

            (Y/N)’s eyes softened. Akira…you act so tough, but whenever you see and father-daughter bond…you melt. “It’s alright, I’m sure you tried.”

            Atsushi reentered the room, out-of-breath. “Will she be alright?” He looked to (Y/N).

            She smiled. “Akira will probably turn up in the nick of time to save our asses at some point. It’s a helpful habit of hers. And if she runs into trouble before then, she can put up a hell of a fight.” She better. She’s my best friend. I can’t lose her.

            An explosion rocked the ship suddenly.

            “Lucy, will you please check what happened?” asked Atsushi.

            “I was already going!” huffed Lucy, leaving the room for a moment.

            Tsundere, thought (Y/N) and Akira.

            Lucy returned and explained, “That explosion blocked off the casino’s exit.”

            “We just lost our only escape route,” said Kyouka. “Nobody can get out of this casino now. We’re stranded here, surrounded by a vast army.”

            “It’s just as Dazai planned it,” said (Y/N). “As crazy as it seems, he wants this to become an all-out brawl. We must capture the man who knows where the ‘page’ is. We must capture Sigma.”

            They listened intently to the sounds in the halls outside. At length, the noises of fighting echoed into the room.

            “I hear combat!” said Atsushi, due to his sharp hearing.

            “That means…!” breathed Lucy.

            “The Hunting Dogs are on the move,” said (Y/N). “It’s going precisely as Dazai planned.”

            “Let the Hunting Dogs find the coins, have them take control of the comms room, and stop the detonation signal,” said (Y/N).

            “But that room’s in the heart of the enemy. Dostoevsky would have multiple plans to guard it. Even the Hunting Dogs may have trouble,” said Kyouka.

            “That’s why we’re here.” (Y/N)’s eyes were severe and serious. “We’ll fight alongside the Hunting Dogs to stop the Decay of the Angels and prove we’re innocent.”

            “We’ll capture the manager, stop the attack, and ally with the Hunting Dogs,” said Atsushi. “Three birds with one stone. That was Dazai’s plan.”

            “The battle’s begun,” said (Y/N). “Let’s go.”

            They stepped into the hall.

            “Are still worried about Akira, (Y/N)?” asked Atsushi.

            “She’s knows the plan.” (Y/N) frowned for a moment. “In fact, I wouldn’t be surprised if she’s already found the fight.”

l

            Akira turned a corner and immediately backtracked. Hunting Dogs were running down the hall and would soon be upon her. Thinking quickly, she reached into her hair and pulled out a pin. Akira picked a room’s lock and slipped inside. It was empty except for the TV, which was playing a video of Sigma next to picture of Tachihara and a girl Akira recognized as Teruko.

            So… Akira narrowed her eyes. He’s the spy in the Port Mafia. She wasn’t upset about Tachihara betraying the Port Mafia (except for the possibility of Chuuya getting hurt), but she was angry at the Hunting Dogs chasing after Akiko, (Y/N), and their Agency friends. Can’t do anything right now, though. (Y/N)’s trusting me to follow the plan. For her, I’ll put aside my anger.

            “I repeat,” he said. “If you see these two, attack them at once! You won’t be tried! We’ll erase all debts for anyone who hits them, ten thousand if you wound them, one hundred for a KO, a million for death! I’m broadcasting to the whole casino! As police, they won’t hurt regular citizens! Do not be afraid to engage them! It’s first come, first served!”

            God, that is super tempting, but… Akira sweat-dropped, (Y/N) would kill me. She frowned. And if those Hunting Dogs get too offtrack… She groaned. Dammit, I better make sure those civilians don’t mess everything up.

            She extended her claws and ripped the bottom of her dress off to allow for more mobility. It hung loosely around her knees. Before leaving the room again, Akira picked up a kitchen knife. She opened the door and stepped out. Other patrons of the casino stood in their doorways holding various weapons. One woman was standing next to Tachihara with her husband.

            Shit, shit, shi—!

            The dark-haired woman stabbed him in the side.

            “Wha—?!” he gasped.

            “Tachihara! Behind you!” warned Teruko.

            Akira moved lightning quick. She launched herself off the nearest wall and rebounded off the opposite. She ended up flying between Tachihara and the husband going to attack. With a deft slice, Akira broke the wine bottle. Redirecting herself off another wall, she barreled into the husband. He hit the opposite wall hard and slumped to the floor while Akira rolled to her feet. His wife hurried over in concern.

            “Relax, I didn’t kill him,” said Akira, rolling her eyes.

            “You—!” Tachihara narrowed his eyes.

            “Me!” chirped Akira. She threw her arms out dramatically.

            Tachihara pulled the knife out of his and threw it at her. Without a care in the world, she leaned back and watched it fly by. Her eyes widened as the knife curved around and sped back. Akira caught it with ease, however.

            “You sneaky bastard! You have an ability,” said Akira.

            “Not the only one!” cried Teruko.

            She leapt forward and morphed into an adult woman. Akira flipped backwards into the mass of confused casino patrons. To attack her, Teruko and Tachihara would have to risk hurting civilians, something they could not do.

            “Gamblers and debtors! Addicts and alcoholics!” announced Akira. She pointed her knife at the Hunting Dogs. “You all know the price on their heads! You all know it’s first come, first served! This would be an terrible opportunity to miss!”

            “What’re you doing?!” hissed Tachihara.

            Akira looked to the civilians around her. “I’d get to killing them if I were you.” Now that they know people are going after them, the Hunting Dogs will be able to avoid being incapacitated. The plan is back on track.

            The casino patrons turned to the Hunting Dogs. The lure of money invaded their minds. They clutched their weapons tightly and attacked. Akira darted into an open room and thrust the knife through the window, shattering it. She stepped up onto the windowsill. Far below, the earth stared at her. Tachihara burst into the room behind her. Akira faced him.

            “I do hope you didn’t hurt anyone~!” She pouted, licking the wine dripping down her arm and winking playfully.

            Tachihara glared. “Surrender yourself.”

            “No thanks!” Akira smirked while remaining aware of the knife set that Tachihara could manipulate easily.

            Tachihara frowned. “Why did you help me but then lead us into a fight? Isn’t that—”

            “Counterintuitive?” offered Akira. She shrugged. “Maybe to you. Or maybe I just know what I’m doing. I mean, people often survive fights if they know they’re facing one.”

            She wants us to survive? Tachihara furrowed his brow. His brain was clouded, as if he couldn’t get to the answer to everything going on. As if…something was stopping him. “Why are you doing this? You aren’t an Agency member…Why would you help these terrorists?”

            “They’re innocent,” said Akira. Interesting…he’s asking questions. None of the other Hunting Dogs have. She nearly chuckled. Maybe the Port Mafia rubbed off on him.

            “What, you just trust them? Even after trying to kill your friend?” Tachihara raised an eyebrow.

            “Coming from me, that should count for something,” said Akira. She glanced outside. “You should really start to think more critically about this whole situation. You seem mildly intelligent.”

            Tachihara blinked and narrowed his eyes in confusion.

            “Anyways, I’ve got to go,” said Akira. “I mean, don’t get me wrong, I’d love to kick your ass, but I’m busy!”

            “What?”

            Akira smirked, gave a two-finger salute, and fell backwards off the window. Shocked, Tachihara just stood and stared.

            “Tachihara! We need to go, did you catch her?” called Teruko.

            “No! Let’s just get to the comms room. The sooner we stop the Agency’s plan, the better!” said Tachihara. He threw one last look over his shoulder to the window. Think critically, huh…?

Chapter Text

            (Y/N) held her hand up. The bullets speeding towards her stopped. Demon Snow disarmed them. When some stumbled up and came at her, (Y/N) kicked them into each other. They tumbled to the ground, and Atsushi knocked them out. He suddenly went on alert and looked at (Y/N), alarmed.

            “(Y/N)! I hear combat!” he cried while dodging a bullet.

            “The Hunting Dogs,” exclaimed (Y/N), twisting a guard’s arm behind his back. She launched him into his group with a thrust of her hand. “Damn, way faster than expected. At the speed they’re going, they’ll get to the comms room soon.” We need to join that battle soon so the plan can continue. Even if there’s a distraction, they’ll get there first. “Kyouka, get the wall!”

            The young girl nodded. “Demon Snow!” she called.

            Her ability drew its katana and sliced into the wall. Sunlight streamed and in through the hole, and wind kicked up dust.

            “Atsushi, you can climb down with your claws,” said (Y/N).

            “What about you?” asked Atsushi.

            “It’ll take me a little longer to climb since I need to pull out the metal plating for handholds and footholds,” said (Y/N). “But I’ll be down soon. Kyouka…”

            “I’ll handle things here,” said Kyouka, nodding in understanding.

            “Take care of yourself, alright?” (Y/N) looked seriously at the younger girl.

            Kyouka nodded and turned to continue the fight. Atsushi began his descent quickly. (Y/N) flicked her wrist, and the edges of the ship’s panels curled outwards. With great care, she stepped down. It was nerve-racking to know that with a single step, she could freefall to her death. The window whipped around her, lashing her hair and clothing around her. Nevertheless, she continued on. Atsushi was slightly below her. Both were heading towards to the hole obviously created by the explosive fight in the comms room. Two people were grappling for power in the hole. One with long hair was kicked out but grabbed ahold of the other. They toppled backwards into the open air.

            “Atsushi!” shouted (Y/N).

            He knew exactly what she was thinking and launched himself downwards. He grabbed Sigma, for that was undoubtedly who it was. The two continued falling towards a large generator. (Y/N) held out a hand and clenched her fingers. Sigma and Atsushi froze and glowed emerald. Lowering her arm, (Y/N) let the pair land on the generator before releasing them and following them down.

            “Watch out, you two,” she said as she arrived. “This power supply casing is the only thing keeping us from falling to our deaths. There’s nothing beneath us.”

            “You’re…from the Agency.” Sigma looked at them, confused. “Why did you help me?”

            “To save the Agency,” said (Y/N). “To do that, we need the page, and you know where it is.”

            “…Even if I do, you think I’m going to tell you?” remarked Sigma.

            “Yes,” said (Y/N) plainly.

            She motioned to Atsushi, who brought out his phone. A videocall with Ango was on the screen.

            “If I use my skill, I can read your memory of the Page from you,” said Ango.

            “Sorry, but I have measures against your skill,” said Sigma.

            “That’s fine. I’ll just use an older method, then.” Ango laced his fingers. “It’s called ‘inflicting pain until you feel like talking.’ Because I have no interest in going easy on the man who stabbed Chief Taneda.”

            (Y/N) furrowed her brow. She wanted the information to save the Agency and was willing to do anything. However, her heart still didn’t let her enjoy the idea of causing another pain. It never did. But it was necessary, just like it had been so many times before. I need to save the people, the man, I love.

            “…I didn’t mean to,” said Sigma quietly. “It was just a threat.” He looked down at his feet, seeming to feel genuine shame. “Honestly, I envy those eyes of yours.” Whether he spoke to one person or the group, the words were profound. “I doubt I’ll ever feel anything with eyes so strong again.” He looked up to the sky, his eyes weary. “Ask whatever you want. I’m exhausted. In the end…I never did understand what I was born for.”

            Silence.

            No one could understand what he meant, but that didn’t take away its importance. Sigma was lost. He had no idea who he was, his purpose, anything. He was utterly lost.

            “Atsushi, (Y/N),” said Ango, breaking the quiet. “Your final mission is to bring Sigma back down to the surface.”

            “All right,” said Atsushi.

            “Got it,” said (Y/N). She glanced up, observing the path back up to the airship on top. Her eyes widened.

            Hawthorne floated above them with a blank but crazed look in his eyes.

            “No…! Not right now…Dostoevsky!” breathed (Y/N). There was no doubt in her mind that Fyodor was behind this. He had a superior intellect like Dazai. He understood what would happen down to the tiny detail of them ending up on the generator.

            “Look out!” alerted Ango. “He wants to kill you to save Sigma!”

            Hawthorne shaped his hand into a gun, and blood spun at its tip. Atsushi held up his hands as a shield; green sparks prepared to protect (Y/N).

            “Guilty,” said Hawthorne in a dark tone.

            Quick as lightning, blood flashed towards the group. It nearly pierced them, but emerald light captured it. (Y/N) had, with one lifted finger, kept everyone from death. Atsushi blinked in awe. He hadn’t even seen the blood moving through the air. (Y/N) herself was surprised. She had moved on pure instinct. In all gifted, there was a sort of separateness between them and their abilities. During Mukurotoride, that fact had been proven. Gifts had some sort of consciousness separate from their wielders, which explained why they might activate themselves in high-stress environments. However, for a single moment, (Y/N) had felt a wonderfully odd togetherness with her ability. She and her gift had been completely one and the same. It was similar to her rage against Shibusawa while in his dragon form. During that instance, she had been linked through anger with her gift. This time, she just felt united. Peaceful, calm. No need for extreme emotion. Just (Y/N) existing.

            She blinked and looked to Atsushi and Sigma. “Are you alright?”

            “Y-Yes,” stammered Sigma.

            “Yeah,” said Atsushi.

            “Watch out,” warned Ango. “He’s preparing again.”

            Hawthorne raised hundreds of blood bullets again and sent them flying. (Y/N) raised her hand again, but the blood began to curve around them erratically. They circled the group until flying inwards. (Y/N) could only stop those she could see. Atsushi turned and brought up his hands to protect himself. They expected the blood to piece them. Instead…Sigma gasped as the bullet punctured his chest from the back.

            They went for Sigma, not us! thought (Y/N), eyes widening.

            Sigma stumbled forward and fell off the generator. Atsushi jumped out after him. Seizing the dual-haired man, the weretiger twisted to grab a metal pipe but missed. (Y/N) through herself to her stomach and leaned over the edge. She reached out her hands and grabbed ahold of Atsushi and Sigma with her ability.

            “Hold on!” called (Y/N), curling her fingers and leaning up.

            It was harder to carry them back up than it was to lower them down. She managed to toss Atsushi up first since he was smaller and lighter.

            “Sigma, your next!”

            She was about to throw him, but Hawthorne sent more blood bullets down. Atsushi took some with her healing ability, but (Y/N) had to throw up a hand to protect herself. Frustrated, she thrust her hand towards Hawthorne. He was sent flying backwards. Reaching down again, (Y/N) pulled Sigma up far enough that she could grab his wrist. She was putting all her strength into saving him. Hawthorne flew back and attacked. (Y/N) was hit in the back and began to fall over the edge, but Atsushi held onto her and the generator. She couldn’t use her ability, however, to save them since her hands were occupied with Sigma and Atsushi.

            “Atone for your sins,” said Hawthorne.

            She cried out as a bullet pierced her arm but fought through the pain. (Y/N) held Sigma’s wrist tightly, but it slipped from her grasp. Quickly, she held his hand instead, but even that was starting to fail as the injury in her arm screamed in aggravation.

            “Hold on! I’m going to get us up!” cried Atsushi, straining his muscles already.

            Hawthorne shot his arm. (Y/N) and Sigma were sent falling down, but in a state of adrenaline, she pulled out a pipe so she could hold on. She cried out as her arm nearly popped out of its socket (luckily, it didn’t).

            “It’s fine…” breathed Sigma wearily. He could tell she was struggling. “I knew it’d wind up like this.”

            “Stop saying that!” growled (Y/N), panting.

            “Let go. You will die, too,” said Sigma, hanging his head. He had no will to continue fighting.

            “I’m not just letting you die!” She glared down at him. “I can’t let someone die like that, having no idea who they are! Having no purpose!”

            “…You’re a kind person. You care for others will all your heart,” murmured Sigma. “But it’s fine.”

            (Y/N) jolted as a sudden flood of knowledge flickered through her mind. It was almost too much to comprehend.

            “As an ordinary man, I did what I could.”

            Sigma let go. (Y/N) reached out in a desperate attempt to catch him with her ability, but her bleeding arm refused to lift.

            Damn it, damn it, damn it, no! Her arm screamed at her to stop. She tensed her fingers and saw Sigma slow for a moment. She could feel the pull of gravity on him, trying to drag him to Earth. With her wounded arm, it was getting difficult to exert more power. Nonetheless, (Y/N) continued. There’s a Will; There’s a Way. There’s a Will; There’s a Way. There’s a Will; There’s a Way. There’s a Will; There’s a Way. There’s a Will; There’s a Way. Slowly but surely, Sigma began lifted up again as (Y/N) curled her fingers. Come on, come on, co— Her other hand was shot with blood, and she dropped. The shock disrupted her gift as she looked to where her hand slipped from the pipe. Sigma fell to his death while (Y/N) faced a similar fate.

            “(Y/N)!” cried Atsushi.

            He leapt into action and let himself fall towards her. While his hands held onto hers tightly, his tail wrapped around the pipe to hold them up. It was a precarious situation, but they were alive. Sigma…was gone. Atsushi looked around for a way back up and saw Lucy running on a walkway above.

            “Lucy!” he shouted. “Look down! Right now!”

            She looked over and gasped. “Throw a rope or something I can grab!”

            “We don’t have anything!” called (Y/N).

            Lucy looked around wildly. As she did, Hawthorne floated closer, intending to make aim even easier. He raised his hand and—Someone crashed into him. Pushing off his chest with their feet, they ended up back on the generator.

            “And for my final trick, I shall save all your asses!” declared Akira with a theatrical flourish of her arms.

            I was right. She turned up in the nick of time to save us.

            Akira grabbed Atsushi’s tail and pulled him and (Y/N) up. As Hawthorne fired at them, (Y/N) put up a trembling, blood-soaked hand and stopped them.

            “Pinky! Might want to help out now!” called Akira.

            Lucy took a step back. “If I fall, pick up my bones!” She jumped over the railing. She reached out her hand. “Atsushi!”

            Her ability activated right before she hit the generator, and they transported into Anne’s Room.

            “Woo! I have so much adrenaline right now! I fell four stories!” Akira swept the debris off her tattered gown.

            “I’m surprised you didn’t kill him,” remarked (Y/N).

            “I didn’t think you’d approve, said Akira.

            “Thank you,” said Atsushi to Akira and Lucy.

            “Down!” cried (Y/N), noticing something.

            She knocked Lucy to the side and stopped the blood bullet from hitting her. Hawthorne had been brought into Anne’s Room as well. (Y/N) could see a string of blood tied to Atsushi, which was how the former Guild member followed them.

            “Crap!” cried Atsushi, tensing.

            “Son of a bitch, just die!” groaned Akira.

            “No. It’s over,” said Lucy. She narrowed her eyes.

            Anne grabbed Hawthorne from behind.

            “Welcome to my kingdom,” said Lucy.

            Hawthorne attacked Anne, but it did nothing.

            “It’s pointless! Nobody can harm Anne inside of this room!”

            Anne dragged Hawthorne into the other chamber where he won’t escape from.

            “We…did it? We did it!” Lucy grinned. “We finally got him! We won!”

            “No, we lost,” said Ango, still on the videocall. “We lost because you let Sigma die.”

            (Y/N), Lucy, and Atsushi looked down.

            “Now we have no leads to the Page,” said Ango, “And…the Hunting Dogs saw us trying to rescue him. In their eyes, that likely looked like the Detective Agency helping their terrorist allies. Our plan failed…and we’ve only sewn more doubt. This is likely exactly as Dostoevsky planned.”

            “Whatever the Decay of the Angel did with the page…they’ve made sure people won’t believe us.” Akira crossed her arms. “I spoke to Tachihara briefly. Even when he believed us a tiny amount, it was overcome by the conviction of our guilt.”

            (Y/N) frowned and looked down. Tachihara was the spy in the Port Mafia. He’d be the most likely to believe, but even he…The Page is truly powerful to change someone’s way of thinking. It’s a miracle Fyodor didn’t use it to change mine. Either he doesn’t want to because then he wouldn’t posses “me” as myself, or it didn’t work in the story that must be told in the Book. Either way…the damage was done to the rest of the world.

            “Frankly, I can’t stop shaking,” said Ango. “Until now, he moved none of his pawns and gave us no room to deal with him. But at the very end, with just a shot of blood, he took away all our gains. Not even Dazai could picture such a miniscule yet enormous scheme. It’s our utter defeat.”

            A heavy, depressed silence descended.

l

            Dazai’s eyes widened. “You changed them not to trust the Agency’s innocent…?!”

            Fyodor smirked. “Yes. All the world’s police and investigative agencies will not act on any evidence someone framed the Agency. Such is written on the Page.”

            “Therefore, trying to ally with the Hunting Dogs was an impossible fantasy from the start,” said Dazai. He grinned and started laughing hysterically.

            Fyodor blinked in surprise.

            “Siding with God sure didn’t teach you much!” laughed Dazai.

            “…” The Russian narrowed his eyes. “Let’s hear it.”

            A cruel smirk spread across Dazai’s face. “ ‘Perfection and harmony?’ To God, those amount to a hill of beans. I saw it many times. All He offers is happenstance and absurdity. A weakness…shared by the two of us. For all our ingenious plans, in the end we’ve wound up here in a deep-level prison.” He touched the ground to demonstrate it. “What’s driving the world are those in the storm of accidental events who scream, run, and spill blood. Faced with their souls and their wills, you and I should be petrified with fear.”

            “ ‘Accidental events?’ ” Fyodor scoffed. “You and I anticipate events that come from so-called ‘random’ decisions. I knew everything that would happen at the Sky Casino.”

            Dazai laughed. “You really believe that!”

            “Do you think I have reason not to?” questioned Fyodor imperiously.

            Dazai shrugged. “I mean sure, everything you believe happened probably did, but did you learn anything from our previous discussions?”

            “Ah.” Fyodor leaned back and smirked. “You believe my angel changed the course somewhat?”

            “You can’t anticipate her choices. You don’t know her. You think of her superficially, as a pure angel.” Dazai smirked. “That’s not who she is, no matter how good and kind she is. And because she’s not what you think, you’ll never really understand her decisions. Eventually, all her little choices will add up.”

            “My angel is powerful, but she can’t stop this plan.”

            “Are you paying attention?! She doesn’t have to, not alone. (Y/N) is strong herself, but she can also bring strength to others. She can inspire them to be different. And that means they’ll keep fighting. They’ll surprise you. Or they’ll overpower you. In the end, it’ll be the same. You’ll lose.” Dazai grinned. “You understand people as logical pieces you can direct. They aren’t that boring. They’re sinful and foolish, yes, but also so much more. You don’t understand the true complexity of people. That’s why people will surprise and beat you.”

            “They can certainly try, but it would take a miracle to get anyone on the Agency’s side now. The Agency is alone. Even if they surprise me, can they take on the whole world and win?”

            Dazai smirked. “Even if it was the whole world…yes. But it won’t be.”

l

            Tachihara stood in the hall on the call with Teruko as he thought back to his discussion with Hirotsu and Gin.

            “The Armed Detective Agency could never be terrorists. Tachihara. If you’re a Mafia member, that’s a given, right?”

            “They’re innocent. Coming from me, that should count for something. You should really start to think more critically about this whole situation. You seem mildly intelligent.”

            Who am I? thought Tachihara. How do I really want to live?

            The phone clattered to the floor as Teruko called out to her associate.

            Yes, the answer is as clear as day…

            Alarmed, Tachihara looked around himself wildly. From far away, a piece of paper tore slightly.

            “What the hell are we doing?!” he cried. “There’s no way the Agency is a terror group! The government has the wrong people! I need to persuade them!”

l

            The bleak, gloomy silence was pressing down around the people in Anne’s Room. Kyouka and Ango had been retrieved, but the increase in numbers didn’t add to any belief in victory. None of them could muster fighting spirit. They felt hopeless after Ango said this was their utter defeat. (Y/N) furrowed her brow. Something was trying to get to the surface of her memory. She couldn’t quite grasp it.

            “You can do it. Just focus.”

            (Y/N) blinked. Dazai’s voice was conjured to her mind again. What’s more…she could remember. “No.”

            The others looked at (Y/N).

            “This isn’t our defeat. This isn’t the end.”

            “But we lost Sigma, and our lead to the Page.”

            (Y/N) smiled. “No, we didn’t.”

            “What do you mean?”

Chapter Text

            “I know where the Page is,” said (Y/N).

            The others widened their eyes.

            “How did you…?” asked Ango.

            (Y/N) looked down at her hand. “Sigma told me…when I tried to save him, when I held his hand. It was probably his gift.”

            “Could it be a trick?” Akira raised an eyebrow.

            “No.” (Y/N) should her head. “When it happened…the look in Sigma’s eyes…he’s not lying.”

            “Why would he tell the enemy?” questioned Ango.

            “I don’t know.” (Y/N) shrugged. It could be because Dostoevsky betrayed him, or… She could picture his defeated face. He’s broken and lost. He has no idea who he is. Maybe…he’s learning right from wrong. It’s a small hope since he works with terrorists, but…there’s a tiny bit of good in him. “I just know he isn’t lying. Not with where the Page is.”

            “Where is it?” asked Atsushi.

            “The least likely place that anyone would hide it, but at the same time, the best way to protect it,” she said. “The Page is with the Decay of the Angels’ boss.  It's with ‘Kamui.’ ”

            “Kamui?” asked Akira.

            “It’s some sort of codename. I don’t know their real name or background, but I do know they have a powerful ability and they’re the mastermind behind the Decay of the Angels,” said (Y/N).

            “Kamui…” said Kyouka. “If we defeat them, the incident would end?”

            “Yes.” (Y/N) looked at her friends with serious eyes. “Let’s defeat them, together.”

            “Hell yeah,” said Akira.

            “Then…that important Kamui person, where are they now?” asked Lucy.

            (Y/N) furrowed her brow. “I got a lot of information from Sigma. Some of it is still…blurry, out of reach. The only thing that comes to mind is the picture of a gasmask.”

            “If we can find some sort of stimulus, it’s possible you could recover more,” said Akira.

            Ango nodded. “Some sort of sting or strike would work best.”

            “Touch her and you’re dead,” said Akira, glaring and extending her claws while Kyouka nodded in agreement.

            “Well, then, how about the following?” offered Ango. “I’ll read into (Y/N)’s ability with mine. Moreover, if it causes me a sense of pain and the memories are put in order—.”

            “I’ll throw you into the wall afterwards!” chirped Akira, clapping her hands.

            (Y/N) was about to admonish her when bloodlust struck her heart. It was an overpoweringly cruel and evil emotion. Pure shadows gripped her heart like a parasite. Her own fear was swarmed by killing intent. Someone was planning murder.

            “(Y/N)?” Akira frowned and knelt next to her friend. She could see the disturbed look on her face and was concerned.

            (Y/N) stood up abruptly. “We need to leave right away.” She nearly collapsed as bloodlust flooded her again but steadied herself.

            “Are you alright?” asked Atsushi.

            “I know where Kamui is,” said (Y/N). “They’re in the middle of an assassination plot.” Her eyes hardened. “Their target is the Armed Detective Agency! They’re taking us out one-by-one!”

l

            “The number you’re thinking of must be…381,882, right?” said Dazai.

            “Correct, and your number…is it 790,115?” said Fyodor.

            Dazai huffed and leaned back. “Aaah, this is no good! The number-guessing game is too easy! Ah, right. Next we could play poker from memory or—.”

            “Is it alright?” asked Fyodor, smirking.

            “What is?”

            “Nothing. I’m just worried about the Detective Agency.” He smiled with faux care. “The Agency is as beautiful as the evening sunlight. And that evening light burns out in a moment’s flicker. Now that they failed in the aerial casino…they’re also as the fallen sun.” His eyes flashed. “Do you have time to be guessing numbers?”

            Dazai blinked. “I do.” The words were stated as if obvious.

            “Oh?”

            “Well, yes. (Y/N) is out there. The sun isn’t setting on the Agency.” Dazai smiled. “She’s my light. With her, the Agency will never fall to darkness.”

            “My~.” Fyodor smirked, but a slight distaste at the reminder of (Y/N)’s being Dazai’s love left a sour look in his eyes. “It always goes back to my angel.”

            “What can I say? She’s seems my brightest hope for a better future. For the world’s better future,” said Dazai.

l

            (Y/N) was overcome with emotion. The Agency now stood in Anne’s Room all together. Katai, Ranpo, Yosano, and Kunikida were free. They were back with the Agency. Ranpo had managed to bring them all together again and contact Ango before Kamui killed them. With (Y/N)’s information and the detectives reunited, hope’s flame grew brighter.

            “You’re alive!” Tears welled in Atsushi’s eyes. He launched himself and Kunikida and hugged him.

            “Akiko!” Akira grinned in relief.

            “Akira!” Yosano hugged her dear friend. She turned to (Y/N) next and embraced her. “(Y/N)!”

            “Yosano! You all made it! We were so worried!” said (Y/N).

            “I wasn’t that worried, I know you’re a badass,” said Akira, shrugging.

            Yosano rolled her eyes playfully. She knew Akira had been concerned.

            “K-Kunikida!” cried Atsushi.

            The others looked over and gasped. Where his hands should be, there were two bandaged stumps.

            “Your hands…” breathed (Y/N).

            “I’m sorry, I, uhm, didn’t know,” said Atsushi.

            “Don’t worry,” said Kunikida. “Dr. Yosano is here.”

            Yosano grinned. Her ability would heal Kunikida.

            “This is what it’s like when the Agency is all together,” said Ranpo.

            “Right. Even if we’ve no spirit, we have (Y/N). Even if we’re wounded, we have Dr. Yosano. Even if we’re taken by the enemy, we have Ranpo,” said Kunikida. “Between the six of us together, there’s nothing we can’t do. The Detective Agency, as organization, draws that strength out of us.”

            “That’s right. The enemy new that, that’s why they had to cause an incident to get us divided no matter what,” said Ranpo.

            “But we won’t move like they expect us to anymore, right?” asked Atsushi hopefully.

            “Although it’s not flawless yet…” Ranpo looked around. “Kunikida, you go search for Kenji and Tanizaki. With that, the Detective Agency will finally be together.”

            Those who can be found…(Y/N) knew that finding Dazai was impossible at this point in time. Not with Dostoevsky and the rest of the world against them.

            “Understood,” said Kunikida.

            “What will you do in the meantime?” asked (Y/N).

            “Me? Isn’t it obvious?” Ranpo grinned. “I’ll have the most interesting part of the job. I’ve waited long enough to contact ‘him.’ ”

            “ ‘Him?’ ” questioned Akira.

            “Fukuchi. The president’s old friend, the leader of the Hunting Dog’s,” said Ranpo. At the others’ alarm, he continued, “The boss was interrogated by him. He believes we are innocent. He is influential and out best bet to gaining allies to clear our name.”

            (Y/N) frowned. Maybe the Page can’t work on everyone…After all, it didn’t work on Akira. She is a criminal, though…but I trust in Ranpo. He knows best and will adapt if needed. And it could be that something in Fukuchi’s past lets him be free of that particular passage on the Page. We have no idea how it works.

            “Where is he now?” asked Akira.

            “He is going to speak in front of a gathering of world officials,” said Ranpo. “We’ll speak to him after.”

            “Sneaking onto a military encampment? Daring, I like it,” said Akira.

            “We have a chance!” said Atsushi in relief.

            It certainly seems that way, thought (Y/N), but she had a sinking feeling in her stomach.

l

            Atsushi, (Y/N), and Akira waited anxiously for Ranpo to arrive. He had gone inside one of the large tents to speak to Fukuchi first. The other three had donned military uniforms over their outfits. They were standing on the large passenger ship and pretending to be workers.

            “Do you really think this is going to work?” murmured Akira to (Y/N).

            “If Ranpo thinks it will, then it has some merit,” said (Y/N).

            Akira shrugged. “Hopefully that ‘merit’ isn’t just bringing us closer to the enemy and giving us a ‘chance’ to beat them.”

            (Y/N) frowned. She has a point, unfortunately…

            “Ranpo’s here!” called Atsushi. “And someone’s with him!”

            “So the negotiation went well,” said (Y/N) with her earpiece.

            “Of course,” said Ranpo. “What about the smuggling preparations?”

            “As you ordered them,” said Atsushi. “There’s no surveillance in the city. The special Boswellian passenger ship for distinguished visitors, we can infiltrate it.”

            Fukuchi jumped onto the ship, displaying his incredibly athletic prowess. “There are far too many guards in the rooms where each country’s ambassador stays. From the Yokohama Sea to the arrival point, it’s twenty-five minutes. We’ll hide out here.” He looked around at Akira, Atsushi, and (Y/N) seriously.

            (Y/N) held back a look of confusion. Did he…No, I imagined it.

            “Y-Yes, sir,” said Atsushi, taking off his military uniform with the others.

            Akira didn’t like being ordered around, but since (Y/N) needed him on the Agency’s side, she would behave. Well…she’d at least try.

            “Do not get caught by the patrols while it’s moving. Look out for the sound of footsteps,” said Fukuchi.

            “Yes, sir,” said Atsushi.

            (Y/N) nodded.

            “Eeeeh?” Ranpo had climbed his way up. “Is someone who’s called a hero gonna get arrested just for waking around? What an uncool middle-ager!”

            (Y/N) sweat-dropped, Atsushi panicked, and Akira snickered.

            “This has nothing to do with being a hero,” said Fukuchi. “The onboard guards are security details. Therefore, their duty is not to the ship’s protection, but to their own countries. If they spot criminals, they’ll shoot without question.” He blinked. “Also, don’t call me middle-ager.”

            “But you’re a middle-ager,” said Ranpo.

            “I still have my youth! My body is still strong.”

            “Ehhh? On what side?”

            “My behind and such…”

            Akira was trying her best to avoid laughing while (Y/N) sighed and sweat-dropped.

            “H-Hang on, Ranpo!” said Atsushi.

            “What?” asked Ranpo.

            “This is a valuable alliance! Mind your language a little more…” said Atsushi.

            Fukuchi chuckled. “I don’t mind, I don’t mind! This kid, you know, he’s just jealous. This kid’s known Fukuzawa for thirteen years now, and yet that’s not even half of my time with Fukuzawa. Whether your time with him is fourteen or fifteen years, it’s absurd to think you’ll surpass me on that, isn’t it?”

            “Huuh? I’d forgotten that,” huffed Ranpo.

            Fukuchi guffawed. “With the power of your memory, isn’t it impossible you’d ‘forget,’ kid?!”

            “Either way, don’t call me kid!” said Ranpo while Fukuchi laughed.

            So this is the leader of the Hunting Dogs…? (Y/N) deadpanned as the group began traversing the ship in order to avoid possible patrols.

            “So, then, the mastermind behind everything, ‘Kamui,’ who could they be?” asked Atsushi.

            “Don’t rush,” said Ranpo. “First, join forces with the Hunting Dogs, then identify Kamui based on the military police’s classified data. Those were the president’s orders. Unlike a murder case, this time it’s not solved by knowing who the culprit is. We have to be discreet.”

            “Alright…,” said (Y/N). But we need to find out as soon as possible. We have less than ten days until they write on the back of the Page.

            “Do we even need that classified info?” asked Akira. She gestured to Ranpo. “Aren’t you super smart or some shit?”

            “Yeah!” said Atsushi. “Ranpo, you could still figure it out!”

            He grinned and pulled out his glasses. “Could it be you want to see these?”

            “Er, well,” stammered Atsushi.

            “No, of course that’s no good. How childish you are,” said Ranpo. “Although…if you really, really wanted to bend the order of my work, I’m not saying there’s no way.”

            “Is he asking for a bribe?” whispered Akira.

            “Not exactly,” responded (Y/N).

            “Yes! This is it!” Atsushi pulled out a soda bottle.

            “Have you been walking around with that?!” asked Akira.

            “Eh? Yes,” said Atsushi as if it was obvious. “When I’m working with Ranpo, I always do, just in case.”

            “It can’t be helped, huh.” Ranpo had a drink. “Well, being looked down on by an old man is no fun, either.” He smirked and put on his glasses. “Shall we keep this secret from the president?”

            (Y/N) narrowed her eyes. We’ll know who Kamui is, finally. That’s a good thing, so why does the air feel heavy around me?

            Ranpo frowned in concentration as several moments passed. His eyes widened and mouth dropped open. The soda slipped from his hand and, almost in slow motion, fell towards the floor. It shattered.

            “Ranpo?” asked (Y/N) cautiously.

            He didn’t answer and walked to an emergency flare. He lit it and held it above his head.

            If he’s willing to give away our position with a smoke signal…something is very wrong!

            “(Y/N),” said Ranpo, getting her attention. He had a serious face which no one present had ever seen on him. “I’m sorry. I was wrong.”

            Fukuchi brought a sword down on him.

Chapter Text

            Fukuchi’s sword sliced through Ranpo. Instead of blood spilling out, light did. Ranpo was using the book Poe had given him. It absorbed him slowly inside.

            “Listen,” said Ranpo. “Make sure you escape. You have no chance of winning.”

            Poe’s book! (Y/N) drew it over to Atsushi in an instant. We must protect it. Ranpo is going inside!

            “One more thing, this old man’s, Kamui’s ability is the weapon he holds.” Ranpo disappeared into the book.

            Akira, (Y/N), and Atsushi were left, tense and staring at Fukuchi, whose sword was still drawn. Fukuchi sighed.

            “As expected, I got discovered by the kid,” said Fukuchi. “Things may look this way, but in my military days, I’d be called ‘The Man of a Hundred Faces’ in undercover missions. Am I past my prime?”

            “You’re Kamui?” hissed (Y/N). She clenched her fists, which were glowing with green light.

            “Well…about that,” said Fukuchi. “My face muscles are tired. Let me just rest a little.” He leaned against the railing.

            Akira growled in annoyance.

            “I’ve done some heavy stress drinking, and my hair is falling out more,” said Fukuchi. “Good grief, acting like a different person is bad for your health.” His eyes darkened. “Although, it’ll be just six more days of patience.”

            “You’re despicable,” said (Y/N). The evil I felt from Sigma’s information…it was him this whole time. “Why would you do this? You’re regarded as the epitome of justice. You’re the president’s friend!”

            “Friend?” Fukuchi frowned and put his head in his hand. “Yes, of course, a friend. Until a certain point, we were. However, Fukuzawa didn’t go into the battlefield.” He sat down on the ground. “And so, our paths were divided for eternity.” He glanced behind them. “Oh, look, land already. Is that fine, detectives?”

            (Y/N) just narrowed her eyes.

            “I apologize for having taken advantage of you the same way, but you have two options now. Confront or escape,” said Fukuchi. “Neither of them an easy road. Because you, who know my identity, I can’t afford to let you return alive.”

            Atsushi’s eyes widened.

            “Don’t make that pitiable face like some new recruit.” Fukuchi reached inside his sleeve. “At least, for your own sake. Shall I make the situation clear for you?” He held up a slip of folded paper.

            “That’s—!” gasped (Y/N).

            “The ‘Page.’ The reality-altering device and source of everything,” said Fukuchi. “If you could take this from me, everything would be as before. The Detective Agency would be saved.”

            Ranpo said we have no chance of winning here…and he’s probably right, but…the solution is right there! It’s so so tempting… thought (Y/N).

            Footsteps echoed across the deck.

            “The passengers have noticed you,” said Fukuchi. “You have no time until the police get here.”

            Akira and Atsushi looked to (Y/N). Whatever decision she made, they’d have her back.

            The Agency needs to know who Kamui is, so we need to escape. He’s going to fight us either way. We’d have a better chance of survival if we just ran. We’d be prepared for the next fight with knowledge of our enemy. He’s already gotten so many out of the way. Dazai’s face flashed in her mind. We need to keep together. But the fight is here. Fukuchi is going to come after us either way. So… (Y/N) flexed her hands. Sparks of emerald swirled around them. Her decision was evident. She was prepared to fight. If we run, he’ll follow us. We have to fight our way out right here, right now.

            “Ho. You put on your combat face,” said Fukuchi, standing up. “It seems I’ll be killing you all right here. Dostoevsky will be…disappointed for the loss of Miss (L/N) to say the least, but I’m afraid I must ensure the plan’s success.”

            “Hopefully, he’ll be rotting in prison for the rest of his life,” muttered (Y/N).

            “We’re not intimidated by you,” said Atsushi. “It doesn’t matter how much you threaten us; we’re not running.”

            “Very brave,” said Fukuchi. “But…how are you going to fight on that leg, tiger boy?”

            Atsushi fell to the ground, his right leg cut off. Fukuchi’s sword dripped with blood. Nobody had even seen him move. Their eyes widened.

            “Why the shock?” commented Fukuchi. “You heard about my ability from that kid.”

            His ability is that weapon…! He can increase its efficiency! thought (Y/N). She narrowed her eyes. I’ll need to stay vigilant.

            “That just about compares to the difficulties that appear in my autobiography. I, too, have my wounded,” said Fukuchi. His sword hung loosely at his side. “People who have felt true pain either grow strong or falter. It is a catalyst.”

            (Y/N) cried out. A sharp pain ran through her arm; a bloody slash appeared. A second appeared on her leg. Without being able to see his sword, it was impossible to fight back, especially with so little experience against him. Fukuchi hadn’t severed any limbs, but moving was difficult. He was toying with them. Akira leapt towards him at breakneck speed. Her eyes were black. A miniscule bit of silver flashed, and she leaned to the side, barely avoiding an attack. Fukuchi blocked her and sliced down again, causing her to jump back. As she still moved backwards, two long wounds were cut into her skin and caused her to stumble.

            “One swing of the blade brings agony, one swing of the blade eradicates it,” said Fukuchi. Shadows danced in his eyes. “Shall I give you peace now?”

            “No thanks, I have a few things to do before I die,” muttered Akira, pushing herself onto her arms.

            “I would find no peace knowing my friends are in danger,” said (Y/N), tensing her fingers. Pale emerald snaked around Fukuchi’s sword as a precaution.

            “I’m not done yet!” growled Atsushi.

            “I’m afraid none of you have a choice,” said Fukuchi, drawing nearer.

            “There’s no need to make things easier for them,” said a new voice from above. Akutagawa knelt on the boat roof looking down. “Because every time the Agency is pushed into an adverse situation, they come back a more bothersome enemy. That’s my advice.”

            “Akutagawa?!” cried Atsushi. “Why are you here?!”

            “Dazai’s orders,” said Akutagawa. “What other reason would I have?”

            “God, he’s annoying me already, hopefully he’ll shut his mouth and actually help,” grumbled Akira.

            “To conceal from both enemies and allies, collect information, and, as long as the smoke signal hasn’t risen, to provide no assistance at all,” said Akutagawa. “Those were the orders.”

            Ranpo figured out one of Dazai’s safeguards. Or Dazai left it intentionally for Ranpo to figure it out. It’s hard to know with those two, thought (Y/N).

            “They multiplied…” groaned Fukuchi. “I had to deal with Fukuzawa’s favorite, then the tiger boy, Dostoevsky’s beloved, the devil girl, and now it’s another guy who will be difficult to silence.”

            “Rejoice, then,” said Akutagawa. “Silencing me won’t be necessary. I have no intention of revealing your identity to the outside.”

            “Is that so?” remarked Fukuchi.

            “Yes, my job is to feed the fish.” Akutagwa’s eyes became cruel and slightly insane. “I’ll shred you and scatter you into the sea. A mastermind’s meat will certainly nourish them well.”

            “I take it back, I like gothboy,” said Akira.

            Fukuchi narrowed his eyes and began to respond when he was attacked. Akira had already bounced back from her injury.

            “Woah!” He jumped back. “I was in the middle of a conversation! Do you not know courtesy?! I’m your elder, you know!”

            “I don’t really respect people trying to kill me,” shot back Akira.

            “You guys, we need to focus on staying alive!” cried Atsushi. “We need to get back to the others!”

            “It’s you who doesn’t understand the circumstances, weretiger,” said Akutagawa. “Don’t you understand how this is a good chance?”

            “What?” asked Atsushi.

            An explosion rocked the ship.

            “I’ve destroyed the engine room,” said Akutagawa. “If we arrive at port, we’ll be surrounded by the police. In that case, it’s best to ensure this ship never reaches it.”

            “Not much of a choice here,” said (Y/N), standing up. “But…none of us can get reinforcements.” She looked at Fukuchi. “Including him. I suppose that is a good opportunity. It’s the one time he’ll be isolated.”

            “But…can we do that? He’s so powerful, and there are only four of us,” said Atsushi.

            “Do we need more than that?” said (Y/N). She stood up in determination.

            “So, you’ve made your decision?” said Fukuchi.

            “Yes,” said (Y/N).

            “That saves me trouble,” said Fukuchi. “Well, truth is, I got seasick. I’ve been feeling like I’ll see my breakfast again.” He held the railing “Now, then…” He snapped the metal apart. “Whatever road you chose, I’m blessing you. Young fighters, walk the road that leaves no regret in your soul. And may whoever perishes, perish all the more in spirit.”

            “You’re trying to be cool and inspiring, but you’re just annoying and depressing,” said Akira. “Hey, gothboy, whaddya say we start this thing?”

            “You know my name,” hissed Akutagawa.

            “Uh-huh, whatever,” said Akira.

            Akutagawa grumbled and tossed Atsushi’s leg to him. “Thirty seconds, fix your leg.”

            Akutagawa and Akira launched at Fukuchi while (Y/N) reached out a hand to stop him from using his sword. He raised the metal pipe instead.

            That counts as a weapon! “Duck!”

            Akutagawa leaned back; Akira dropped and rolled. The pipe cleaved away part of the ship. Fukuchi swung it down again. Akira caught it with one hand. She winced from the force but dug her claws in. As her ability completely began to kick in, her horns curly out from her head, and her jaw slightly unhinged as her teeth sharpened. Akira was less than human.

            “I’ll rip that face off!” growled Akutagawa, taking advantage of Fukuchi being disarmed.

            Fukuchi let go of the pipe and grabbed Akutagawa’s leg, throwing him over his shoulder. The mafioso created a crater in the wall behind. Turning, Fukuchi went to grab his sword, but (Y/N) threw it to the side and dragged Akutagawa away before he could be hurt.

            “So…the one I need to get rid of first…is the long-distance fighter,” said Fukuchi darkly.

            He stomped on the ground (with less force than he could have). The reverberation sent his opponents flying and his sword into the air. He caught his sword and sliced down. They were all in the air; they couldn’t dodge. (Y/N) flattened her hands together, and debris came together into a dense shield. It was sliced apart, but in the subsequent cloud of dust gave them a chance to escape over the side of the ship. Akira grabbed (Y/N) and clawed her way into a lower deck while Atsushi and Akutagawa got into an upper deck on the other side.

            “We need to get back to them!” said (Y/N).

            “Where do you think they’re headed?” asked Akira.

            “Back of the ship is farthest from where Fukuchi was,” said (Y/N).

            “He’s probably realized that, too.”

            “We need to hurry, then.”

            They ran through the halls. Unfortunately, they came across guards who raised their guns. A storm of bullets sailed towards them. (Y/N) flicked two fingers on each hand to the side. The projectiles embedded in the walls.

            “Wow, you’re getting good!” Akira knocked out the guards. “You didn’t use your whole hand!”

            “Now is not the time!” (Y/N) threw the men into a cupboard with a sweep of her hand. The lock clicked as she curled a finger.

            They ran onward. Through corridors, up stairs, through guards who slowed them down, until they reached the stern. (Y/N) threw open the doors. As she did, foam from a fire extinguisher rushed in. The cannister had been cut in half by Fukuchi, who stood over Akutagawa. The mafioso lacked his coat, and Atsushi, who lay against the railing a ways away, clutched his severed arm. A hole in the floor lay between the three.

            “In your dying moments, you choose actions over words? Bravo,” said Fukuchi.

            The katana sliced through Akutagawa’s neck. He fell.

            “You damn fool. Hurry and go,” said Akutagawa to Atsushi, a small smile on his face.

            It had all happened in a second. Akira and (Y/N) had to no chance to stop it, not with the smoke that filled their vision and not with arriving right as Akutagawa died.

            “No!” cried Atsushi, trying to scramble forward.

            (Y/N) tugged her hand towards her. Encircled with emerald, Atsushi fell down the hole. The start of a machine ((Y/N) assumed it to be a submarine) echoed up.

            Fukuchi turned and raised his eyebrow. “So, you’ve arrived! I thought you would’ve escaped by now.”

            “We knew you’d go after them,” said (Y/N). “We had to try to help.”

            “A fruitless endeavor,” said Fukuchi.

            “The weretiger escaped; I wouldn’t call that ‘fruitless,’ ” said Akira.

            “I’ll simply dispose of you and then the boy,” said Fukuchi. “It will take him time to navigate the submarine.”

            (Y/N) flexed her fingers and shook out her arms. “We’ll stop you, then.”

            Fukuchi frowned and swung his precious weapon. (Y/N) and Akira dodged to the side. Akira clawed at the ground, letting debris and rocks spin in the air. (Y/N) curled her hands into fists. Large boulders formed in the air. Even as Fukuchi sliced through the air, the boulders split and reformed around his blade. He couldn’t destroy them. When he landed a hit, (Y/N) could just remake the rocks. Akira kept giving her materials, adding metal scraps she clawed from the pipes and rails to the mix. As the debris spun around Fukuchi faster and faster, it began to flick him, scratch him, wound him. Thunk! A large boulder formed the moment before a grain of dirt hit him. The impact sent him flying. Akira jumped over and grabbed his throat, digging her claws in. Fukuchi was about to die. They had won—Silver glinted in the light.

Ḃ̵̡̛͓̘͚̝̘͇͊̔̋̓̿̏͂͆̏̌̕̚a̶̳͉̟͗ç̴̢͇͖̣̯̲͔̞̦͉̋͆̑̿̈́̕͠k̴̜̥͙̲̓

            Fukuchi frowned and swung his precious weapon. (Y/N) and Akira dodged to the side. Akira clawed at the ground, letting debris and rocks spin in the air. (Y/N) curled her hands into fists. Large boulders formed in the air. Even as Fukuchi sliced through the air, the boulders split and reformed around his blade. He couldn’t destroy them. When he landed a hit, (Y/N) could just remake the rocks. Akira kept giving her materials, adding metal scraps she clawed from the pipes and rails to the mix. As the debris spun around Fukuchi faster and faster, it began to flick him, scratch him, wound him. Sching! (Y/N) coughed up blood as a sword pushed through her stomach. She crumpled to the ground.

            “(Y/N)!” cried Akira, rushing to her side.

            “An excellent strategy,” said Fukuchi. “It played to your strengths and my weaknesses. Dostoevsky’s reports claimed you couldn’t manipulate what you couldn’t see. A true surprise attack. However—” He examined his sword “—as long as I have this, I can’t lose.”

            (Y/N) struggled to her feet. “Everyone…can lose.”

            “Yes, and today, you shall,” said Fukuchi.

            His wrist twitched minutely. The tiniest flash of silver passed through the air. Akira rolled to the side; (Y/N) curled her fingers and turned her wrist. The sword turned to the ground and embedded in the ground away from Fukuchi. He blinked. He had barely moved, and yet (Y/N) had caught it. She was getting stronger the longer she had to fight.

            “You saw it…” murmured Fukuchi.

            “That is how my ability works,” quipped (Y/N). Lie. I didn’t see it. I could just…feel it. I just knew where it was.

            “No matter,” said Fukuchi. He pulled a piece of railing away. “I am still stronger than you.” He struck.

            Akira caught it and tore off a piece. “What a surprise! So am I~!”

            She threw the rail at Fukuchi. He dropped his pipe and lunged towards his blade. With his ability, Fukuchi cut through the makeshift spear. His vision temporarily obscured; Akira leapt at him. Fukuchi smirked and brought his sword up. At the last moment, she dropped and slid between Fukuchi’s legs, raking her claws into his legs. He fell to his knees. Green light smashed the two pipes he had sliced through into his body. Fukuchi lifted his wrist to slice his opponents to pieces (even at this distance it was possible, due to his gift). (Y/N) quirked her curled wrists. A crack sounded. Fukuchi’s wrists were broken, useless. It had all happened in a perfectly timed moment. Akira and (Y/N) were a truly monstrous team. Given time, they could be

            “You are fools…in war, you must kill when given the chance…” said Fukuchi. “You cannot bring yourself to kill.”

            “No, I cannot,” said (Y/N) honestly. “But she can.”

            Akira stabbed her claws through Fukuchi’s chest. He coughed up blood. His eyes dimmed. They had won—A finger twitched; metal flashed.

Ḃ̵̡̛͓̘͚̝̘͇͊̔̋̓̿̏͂͆̏̌̕̚a̶̳͉̟͗ç̴̢͇͖̣̯̲͔̞̦͉̋͆̑̿̈́̕͠k̴̜̥͙̲̓

            She threw the rail at Fukuchi. He dropped his pipe and lunged towards his blade. With his ability, Fukuchi cut through the makeshift spear. His vision temporarily obscured; Akira leapt at him. (Y/N) cried out as a sword stabbed through her hand. One of the rails she held up clattered to the floor as she lost control. In the same moment, Fukuchi redirected his sword as Akira dropped to the ground. It pierced her still-healing wound. She howled at the pain. Blood pooled beneath her.

            “Akira!”

            (Y/N) threw the remaining pipe at Fukuchi. He sliced it to pieces; she redirected them. The metal shards embedded in his skin. Fukuchi gritted his teeth. He was once again on the losing side. He could feel the bones in his arms straining. They snapped. Akira pulled the sword from her stomach and thrust it up. It pierced Fukuchi. He grabbed it, trying to pull it out, but she pushed it in tighter. They had won—A blade glinted.

Ḃ̵̡̛͓̘͚̝̘͇͊̔̋̓̿̏͂͆̏̌̕̚a̶̳͉̟͗ç̴̢͇͖̣̯̲͔̞̦͉̋͆̑̿̈́̕͠k̴̜̥͙̲̓

            (Y/N) threw the remaining pipe at Fukuchi. He sliced it to pieces; she redirected them. The metal shards embedded in his skin. Fukuchi gritted his teeth. He was once again on the losing side. He could feel the bones in his arms straining. Pain and blood erupted from (Y/N)’s remaining hand. Fukuchi pulled his sword from Akira’s stomach and slashed it through the air. Blood spilled from (Y/N)’s legs. She collapsed to the ground. Red stained her clothes and sank into the cement below her. She couldn’t move her hands or legs. She was defenseless.

            “You fought to the end as a true soldier,” said Fukuchi. “You have dignity in your death.”

            Akira sank her laws into Fukuchi’s legs. “Don’t touch her!”

            Fukuchi flinched and groaned in annoyance. “I thought you’d weaken by now with the blood you lose.”

            “Fuck you.” Akira’s vision was hazy, and she could feel her fingers going numb as her blood spilled beneath her.

            “I suppose I’ll dispose of you now,” said Fukuchi.

            His boot pressed into Akira’s shoulder, and he prepared to bring his sword down on her. Akira growled and tried to push his boot away. Her movements were strong but sluggish. Fukuchi simply ground his boot into her shoulder. He watched her struggle against him with a determined glint in her eye, one that said she wouldn’t stop fighting until she was dead. Fukuchi had seen such a look before. He had seen it eighteen years ago.

            “Interesting, you remind me of someone I fought long ago,” he said. “She was the only person who came close to stopping my plan until the Agency sprung up.” He tilted his head in consideration. Fukuchi sighed and shook his head. “Nanako shouldn’t have gotten in my way.”

            Nanako…Nanako…Nanako… The name echoed around Akira’s mind. The entire world turned red. Nanako, Nanako, Nanako. Her previous pain dulled. Strength returned to her limbs. Rage filled her mind. Hot, fiery rage. It burned in her mind, never ending. It struck deeper than Akira’s anger towards Mori. He had abandoned her. Fukuchi…had killed her mother.

            “You…You took her away from me!”

            Fukuchi raised an eyebrow. “So you’re the child she worried for? How sad. You ended up as weak as her.”

            The flames of fury rose to greater heights. “Why?!” She knew the answer, but any semblance of logical thought was slipping farther and farther from her grasp with every moment. Rage governed her mind.

            “I did what was necessary. I took the life of one Mori woman to preserve my goals.” His eyes narrowed. “Now, I shall do so again.” He brought down his sword.

            Hell Hath No Fury

            Fukuchi found himself slammed into the side of the ship. Akira had thrown him with strength she hadn’t possessed a moment ago. She stood, shoulders heaving, gift activated. Shadows clung to her as if she was darkness itself. Akira looked up. Her skin had paled to a corpselike complexion. A demented crown of curled horns extended from her forehead and glowed red. Her eyes were not just black, there was nothing. Void of light, emotion, life. They could be mistaken for two holes in her head. Deadly claws replaced her fingers. Sharp teeth glinted from a jaw that seemed inhumanly wide, nearly snakelike.

            In her struggle to push herself up, (Y/N) froze at the sight. It was how Akira’s ability had appeared during the Mukurotoride incident. However, her gift had been a red figure then. Now…(Y/N) could mistake Akira for a Shinigami from the tales of old.

            “Akira…!” cried (Y/N).

            Akira didn’t even seem to register the sound. She leapt towards Fukuchi, who raised his sword. It flew through Akira, but she kept moving. Even with it in her side, she grabbed the hilted and pulled herself closer. Her claws sank into his chest. She wanted to rip his heart out. Fukuchi backhanded her, sending her flying off his saber and to the ground. With a growl of pure menace, Akira stood back up. Blood dripped from her wounds and claws. She looked positively rabid. She attacked again and received another stab. Again and again, she dealt blow after blow to Fukuchi. He returned in kind. He could not send his sword to the past because she just kept coming, no matter how injured she was. Pain had no meaning to her. Akira felt one thing: fury.

            “Akira!” cried (Y/N) again, pushing herself up. She’s going berserk. With this power, she could win here, but… She eyed the ever-increasing number of wounds spilling Akira’s blood. Her body is going to give out. If she had started out like this, she would win. She would last longer than Fukuchi, but like this…even if she wins, she’ll die. And I can’t let Akira die! Not like this! Her arms ached as she lifted them, and her hands hung limp and bloody, immobile and useless. Come on, come on, come on! I need to help her! There’s a Will; There’s a Way! There’s a Will; There’s a Way! There’s a Will; There’s a Way! Somewhere deep inside her, a light sparked. Her ability came alive.

            Akira was flung down the hole into the submarine where Atsushi waited. Fukuchi crashed through walls until he ended up on the other side of the ship. He was a dot in (Y/N)’s vision. Mastering her strength, she rolled into the hole and tumbled down. Atsushi, who had waited for the short period of their fight, closed the hatch with his one hand and started the submarine. Fukuchi couldn’t go after them, not with guards arriving and having to maintain his heroic guise. They were safe for now. At least, from Fukuchi. Below the waves, fury raged on.

Chapter Text

            “Get us back to the Agency, Atsushi!” ordered (Y/N) as she faced the still manic Akira, who was trying to break through the hatch and continue her fight. Thankfully, her body was failing her as her gift could only go so far. Her strength was faltering. Unfortunately, that meant her life was, too.

            “What about her?!” cried Atsushi.

            “I’ll handle it.” (Y/N) took a deep breath. She needed to be calm. Akira’s ability thrived on anger. If she relaxed enough, she’d return to her usual form. Akira continued to bash into the hatch, but her jumps were less successful with every attempt. It was little more than messy hops at this point. (Y/N) winced at the blood that collected on the ground with every jump. “Akira.” She swallowed as the less-than-human being turned to her. “Akira, I need you to listen to me.” Her heart clenched at the pain that swam under Akira’s wrathful appearance. “I know you’re upset, but—” Akira growled, and the shadows clinging to her shifted uneasily “—But you know that you’re dying. And you know you can’t die now, not like this.” Wincing, (Y/N) reached up. Her wrists could still move, but her hands screamed in protest at any movement. She pushed the feeling aside and gently cupped Akira’s face. “You need to be strong. And right now, strong is pushing aside your anger for another day. I promise, Fukuchi will lose. We’ll beat him. But I need you to do that. You have to be there.” (Y/N) pressed her forehead to Akira’s and closed her eyes. “I need my best friend to be there.”

            Through the black and red glow surrounding Akira, green filtered in like an extension of (Y/N)’s mind. Where her forehead and fingers touched her friend, a healthy hue returned to Akira’s skin and slowly spread out across her body. Her horns turned to smoke and blew away. Her claws became fingers once again. Her facial features returned to humanlike state, also serpent resemblance gone. The clinging shadows her fell away; light illuminated her features. Last, the green touched the black abyss resembling eyes. As the emerald faded, the void disappeared and left Akira’s ruby eyes visible. She blinked as if finally aware of her surroundings. She opened her mouth to speak but instead collapsed as the full gravity of her wounds hitting her. (Y/N) caught her and sat down. She hugged Akira close and pressed an extravagant blanket to her more severe injuries, even as her own throbbed and bled.

            “You’re alright. It’s going to be okay.” (Y/N) murmured words of comfort. They may have been for Akira; they may have been for her. It was unclear.

            “I feel like death…” Akira coughed. “Probably look it, too…”

            “You look fine.”

            “Liar, I look like shit, so I’d rather—” She paused to spit out blood “—not die. Not a good look for my death. I mean the ripped dress if cool, but my own blood? Not so much…Much prefer to die bathed in someone else’s…” More blood was coughed up.

            “I’m sure you’ll look wonderful when you die.” (Y/N) went along with her friend’s antics as she wiped away the blood on her cheeks. She winced as her injured hands pained but continued. “Black dress, enemy blood, maybe a sword?”

            “Sword? Sexy weapon…good choice. I think I know someone who sells them…”

            (Y/N) shook her head and pressed the blanket to Akira’s bleeding palm. “Just stay alive so you can get it.”

            “You gonna get Akiko…?”

            “I know you like to treat yourself, but—”

            “Please.” Akira gripped (Y/N)’s hand (albeit gently due to her wound). (Y/N) looked down at her friend in surprise. “Please get me to her. I don’t want to die. I can’t.” Her voice was pleading. “He’s out there, (Y/N). I need to get him, please. I need to—” kill him. Get back to Akiko and tell her that none of what happened is her fault or mine. Get back to Chuuya and tell him that I care and want to be with him. Stay with you and fight. I need to live… She turned to the side and heaved as blood caught in her throat.

            (Y/N) cleaned away the drops and hushed her. “I’ll get you there, I promise. Yosano will heal you. Then we’ll regroup and beat Fukuchi. But first, you need to focus on staying alive, alright?” She held Akira’s face affectionately.

            “…Did I try to hurt you?”

            “Of course not.”

            “…I was scared I would.”

            “I know you would never hurt me,” said (Y/N) seriously.

            “No, you don’t.” Darkness tinged Akira’s voice. “I wasn’t really…in control. I know I always walk with one foot in shadow because of my ability, but this…I was on the edge of an abyss. If I fell…I don’t know if I’d ever return.”

            “Return?” (Y/N) paused in her rudimentary treatment and looked into her eyes.

            “I think I was losing myself in darkness, in rage.” Akira swallowed. “I know I’m an angry person…but this was different. It wasn’t an ember I could use as motivation, it was a fire burning me alive. Everything that made me me was turning to ash…” She shuddered.

            “You fought back to the surface. You listened to me and fought for control.” (Y/N) smiled. “And you won.”

            “I almost didn’t. That type of fury…it’s overpowering.” She fought back a sob. “I don’t want to be angry forever…I don’t want that to be who I am, but when he mentioned my mother…I just—”

            “Hey, hey, it’s alright,” soothed (Y/N). “Look at me.” Akira’s eyes met hers. “Yes, you have anger in you. Let’s be honest, you have a right to those feelings. But that’s not all you are. You’re so much more than that. You’re clever, your mind runs circles around people and your quips are witty. You’re a fighter, you persevere and survive no matter what is placed in you path. And, although you pretend not to be, your kind. I know that you provide for an orphanage in Yokohama. You are always looking out for kids looking for their way in the world. And you’re here, with me, fighting to protect the world. Akira, you’re a good person, even though you can’t see it.”

            Akira’s eyes were wide. Since her mother died, the only time she’d gotten close to hearing such words about her was Chuuya. This was the first time she’d heard them, though, since Nanako. She almost wanted to cry at the affection and honesty in (Y/N)’s voice. “You’re an angel…like her. You have a light in you.”

            When Akira said “angel,” it didn’t disgust (Y/N). It wasn’t obsessed; it was reverent and affectionate. “Like who?” She was hesitant to ask, but the question spilled from her lips before she could stop them.

            “My mother…” Akira smiled as a single tear fell down her face. It disappeared into the blood on her face. It would be the only tear she shed that night, no matter how saddened she was. “My mother was an angel.”

Eighteen years ago…

            Nanako sat back in her chair. She drummed her fingers on the armrest as she listened to her friend on the phone.

            “Something’s…wrong, Nanako. I can see it. Ever since he came back home on leave…something’s been off.”

            “Well, war can change people. It might have affected him psychologically.” Nanako looked down. “Mori…If they don’t have enough doctors, he’ll probably be dragged in…The same may happen to him.”

            “No, that’s not it. Well, I mean, partially, but something else is going on.”

            “Like…an affair?”

            “I almost wish that’s what I thought it was, but no. He feels dangerous to be around, not just because he’s a soldier or his ability, but just…wrong, frightening. I can feel it.”

            Sometimes I wonder if she has an ability with those accurate “feelings” of hers. Nanako frowned. “You feel unsafe? Is he going to hurt you?”

            A soft sob came through the line. “I hope—I mean, of course not! But Nanako, I’m scared. Could you—?”

            “Look into him?” She sighed. “I mean, if it’s just psychological, I don’t know what I can do. I can observe him and determine whether he’s a threat, but—”

            “I want you to look into what he’s doing. He sneaks out. He’s reading strategy books by…unsavory characters. He’s been angry at home but acting jovial in public. Something is going on. I know it is. And he thinks I don’t, but I do.”

            “Alright. I will, for you. In the meantime, try to keep calm, act normal, and…have a plan to leave, if need be. If it turns out he’s dangerous, you know you can’t beat him. Not when he has that gift. So please, be careful and stay safe.”

            “I’ll try.”

            “I’ll call you when I have definitive news,” said Nanako.

            “Alright, bye.”

            “Bye.” She got up and stretched.

l

            “I’m off to work,” said Mori, kissing Nanako on the forehead.

            “I’ll see you after work,” she said, smiling. “And remember not to make Elise do all the work and get lazy.”

            Elise blinked. “I do whatever Dr. Mori asks me to.”

            Mori pouted. “I always do my work! I love it!”

            “Uh-huh, good, poor Elise suffers enough just being your ability.”

            “You’re so cruel…” Mori slouched out the door.

            “Rintaro.”

            Mori perked up and looked back.

            “I love you.”

            He blinked. “I love you, too.”

            Nanako watched her husband leave. When he was gone, she turned and began to get ready. She had business to take care of. Sending a quick text and pulling on her coat, she walked to the door.

            “Mommy, where are you going?” asked Akira.

            “I have to go help a friend,” said Nanako.

            “Are they okay?”

            “Yes, of course, I just have to help them sort some stuff out.” And everyone else might pay if I don’t…including you, Akira. I can’t let that happen.

            “Oh, okay,” said Akira. “When will you be back?”

            “A little later. Can you be good and go over to the neighbors for a little bit?”

            “Yeah, Mommy!” Akira agreed eagerly.

            “Alright, then I’ll be back soon.”

            “Bye, I love you, Mommy!” called Akira.

            “I love you, too, Akira,” said Nanako affectionately. I do everything for you. I love you so much.

            She walked through the city with purpose. She ended up in an old warehouse district. A few people milled about in shops near the area, but for the most part, it was barren.

            “You can come out now,” said Nanako, taking off her long coat. Strapped to a halter and belt, several knives flashed in the light.

            “I thought we came to talk about…Well, it seems talking is out of the question,” said Fukuchi, stepping out.

            “You brought your sword,” pointed out Nanako. “You didn’t expect a civil discussion either.”

            “There’s no reason we can’t still speak. Like you, I’m merely prepared.”

            “I don’t really have anything to talk to you about. I know what you’re planning to do something terrible.”

            Fukuchi narrowed his eyes. “Did your ability allow you to discover that?”

            “People figure things out,” said Nanako.

            “Well, then, if you know, then why ask me here?”

            “To ask you why.”

            “ ‘Why?’ ” Fukuchi raised an eyebrow. “I’m going to unite this world.”

            “No, you’re going to destroy it. And at the expense of everyone you care about, or at least, used to.”

            “So be it.”

            Nanako narrowed her eyes and slipped her knives inter her hands. They were lodged between her fingers just as she had taught Mori to do. It made it as easy as a flick of her wrist to throw them at high speeds. “And this is the reason we have nothing to discuss.”

            Fukuchi hand reached for his sword. Three knives embedded in his hand before he gripped his weapon, and he was kicked backwards into a wall.

            “Be Not Afraid.” Nanako was lying, she wanted him to be frightened, but she knew he wouldn’t be, and she couldn’t change the name of her ability. Nor would she want to. After all, it was magnificent. White wings unfurled from her back while four others flapped around her head. Her eyes turned white until the iris and pupil were lost in the sea of light. A golden halo floated above her head. Several glowing rings of light circled her arms in bands. She flicked out more of her knives and jumped into the air. Fukuchi pulled the weapons from his hand and gripped his sword. This battle could alter the future; they both knew that.

            The battled raged between them, and both grew heavily injured and tired. Fukuchi was forced to send his sword to the past to wound her, but she either kept fighting or sensed where the attack was (he suspected that the halo acted as a surveillance device), and Nanako abandoned her knives in favor of using her blade-like feathers as weapons, but Fukuchi blocked them or continued on (she suspected he had physical enhancements). On and on went the fight, neither participant willing to give up until they literally couldn’t continue. Eventually, Nanako managed to pin Fukuchi to the ground. She drew a feather from her wings and pressed it to his neck.

            “This is over,” said Nanako.

            “Not killing me? You seem so prepared,” said Fukuchi.

            “Knowing how to kill isn’t the same as loving to kill.”

            “In my line of work, that’s called weakness. And for gifted, that’s called death. I wonder if your child will lose their life because they don’t learn how to kill…I mean, if she ends up gifted, of course. Gifted never get an easy life, do they?”

            It was just a moment, just a single second of distraction. But it was enough. Nanako froze at the idea of Akira’s death. Her daughter didn’t even show signs of an ability, but it was a legitimate fear. Very, very few gifted ever got into a position that was completely safe and devoid of danger. Nanako didn’t want her daughter hurt. She loved Akira. Unfortunately, Fukuchi understood that and used it to his advantage. In her momentary shock at his comment, a sword flew through her stomach. She collapsed to the side. Fukuchi stood up and pressed his boot into her shoulder and stabbed her once more.

            “Pity. I believe a few years ago you wouldn’t have been phased by such a comment,” remarked Fukuchi.

            He was right. A few years ago, she wouldn’t have had a family to care for, to worry about. But she did. And it was a weakness Nanako wasn’t ashamed of. “At least…I care about mine. You’re going to regret not caring for yours.”

            Fukuchi raised an eyebrow. “Unless your gift allows you to see the future, I find that unlikely.”

            Nanako could feel herself drifting into Shinigami’s awaiting arms. But she had one last act to perform before she accepted his embrace. After all…she was angel. Her eyes lit up. “Tennin! Kami!” Her words reverberated around the warehouse. “Give me strength!” For my death. I know I cannot survive…so let me die fighting. Even if he survives…grant me this, Kami. Please.

            Fukuchi sighed. “You seriously want to continue fighting—?”

As if someone answered her, her halo, wings, and bands glowed brighter and brighter. Nanako closed her eyes. The air heated around her as the light became blinding.

            Akira, Ogai…I love you so much.

            The warehouse exploded, throwing Fukuchi backwards. The buildings surrounding it collapsed. It was like a bomb had gone off except…no one other than Fukuchi was injured. Nanako had fought to her last breath and died as a true angel. Fukuchi struggled to his feet as people began screaming and running about. It was nearly unbearable for him to stand. If not treated soon…he’d die. He looked at the few feathers and burn marks of halo and three sets of wings in the floor.

            “The Decay of the Angel…” he observed before collapsing.

l

            Mori jumped out of the ambulance as it stopped in front of the destroyed buildings.

            “Any survivors?” he asked a nearby EMT who had arrived earlier before more professionals were called in.

            “Yes, everyone,” answered the EMT.

            Mori frowned. “Everyone survived that explosion?”

            “Some people have bruising from some rubble, but other than a soldier who arrived to help with the situation, no one else was hurt. He was close enough to the source that he nearly died, but we managed to bring him back.”

            “Did he say what happened?”

            “He said a woman and man were fighting, and when he tried to discover what was happening, the woman was killed and…exploded.”

            Mori considered the information. “So she likely had a gift…” His inquisitive nature got the better of him. He walked into the destroyed warehouse. He froze and nearly dropped to his knees. He could see the burned marks of a halo and pairs of wings. And…a few feathers littered the floor. “No…No, no, no!” That day…a part of Mori died. And a part of his daughter would, too.

l

            Later on, Fukuchi entered his home. He had gotten changed and cleaned up so as to hide he’d been fighting but returned home soon enough. However…something was off. It was quiet, and many items were…gone. He frowned and curled his hand into a fist. He smacked it into the wall, leaving a dent. That damn Nanako…She warned her of something…She gave her time to get away… Fukuchi’s eyes darkened. No matter. She isn’t as brave as to come after me, not in her position. And even if I have to find more strategists and workers, my plan will come to fruition, whether now or in years. Damn that Nanako…she created enough of a racket that if something happens now…people will make the connection. Damn her to hell…

            He could almost hear the world laughing at him after those words.

Chapter Text

            “(Y/N), we’ve made it to shore,” said Atsushi anxiously. “I think there are people outside the submarine, though…What if Fukuchi already made it? Or it’s the police?”

            (Y/N) stood and winced as her hands and legs ached painfully. She looked over at Akira. Her friend was still awake, but her breathing remained shallow as she lost blood. They needed medical treatment, and soon.

            “Watch over Akira and keep her awake,” instructed (Y/N), taking charge. “I’ll go up and see who it is.”

            Atsushi glanced at her wounded hands and the blood and tears covering her body and clothes. “Are you sure you’re okay to…?”

            (Y/N) nodded and forced a smile. “Yeah. Now if I tell you to run, you and Akira have to leave immediately. Don’t even think about me.” I am already injured. I’ll slow them down. Better I die than them.

            “What? No! I can’t leave you,” said Atsushi.

            “Hell no,” muttered Akira, groaning as the effort to speak reverberate through her injured stomach.

            “Atsushi, Akira needs help as soon as possible, and Ranpo needs to be freed from the book. If I get into a fight, everyone has a better chance if you guys run,” said (Y/N) forcefully.

            Atsushi chewed on his lip. “Alright…I understand.”

            “Don’t die. I’ll kill you,” huffed Akira.

            (Y/N) smiled at Akira. “I won’t. I promise.”

            And with those words, she began her climb up to the entry hatch of the submarine. The ladder was murder on her stabbed hands, but she forced herself up nonetheless. Taking a deep breath, (Y/N) prepared herself to use There’s a Will; There’s a Way as soon as there was any sign of a fight. She pushed the hatch open and blinked as a shadow blocked the sun above.

            “Well, it’s about time. We’re nearly behind schedule,” said a familiar voice.

            “Kunikida!” cried (Y/N) happily.

            Kunikida looked down at her, and a small smile at seeing his friend flitted across his face. “Grab Atsushi, Akira, and Ranpo.” He held up a dark journal. “The rest of the Agency is in here.”

            “Ranpo prepared for the chance we’d fall into a trap somehow,” said (Y/N), recognizing that Ranpo had Poe make them an Agency in a book to hide.

            Kunikida nodded. “We’re waiting for a report.”

            “I don’t think you’re going to like it,” said (Y/N) regretfully.

l

            Dressed in fresh clothes and healed by Yosano, (Y/N) headed towards the meeting room but was stopped by Fukuzawa.

            “President,” she said, bowing politely.

            Fukuzawa nodded his head in return. “I apologize for sending you all into danger. Had I known of Fukuchi’s true nature, I would have confronted him myself.”

            (Y/N) shook her head. “You couldn’t have known. It even surprised Ranpo. And now we know our enemy.”

            “I was told of your battle and the way the sword always appeared before you could defeat him,” said Fukuzawa. “Is there anything else I should know?”

            (Y/N) bit her lip. “Akira may be emotionally compromised,” she admitted. “Fukuchi apparently killed her mother. If she gets into another battle with him, she could lose herself to her ability.”

            “Fukuchi killed…?” Fukuzawa furrowed his brow, and (Y/N) wasn’t sure, but it seemed like he knew who Nanako was. He cleared his throat and nodded. “Very well. Thank you for the information.”

            (Y/N) nodded to Fukuzawa, and then they walked into the meeting room and sitting down.

            “Alright. Let’s begin,” said Kunikida.

            Atsushi raised a hand. “Um, before we continue, how did Kenji and Tanizaki get back? I though the mafia took them to a safehouse.”

            Kenji smiled. “A liaison arrived and gave us a message as soon as you guys arrived here and went to the infirmary with Yosano. They said, ‘The situation has changed, merge with the rest of the Detective Agency.’ ”

            Atsushi frowned. “A liaison?”

            “It was the most unexpected person,” admitted Tanizaki. “Mori himself had come.”

            “Mori?” Akira raised an eyebrow. “He wouldn’t put himself at risk like that unless something was very wrong.” And that means Chuuya is in danger…

            Ranpo nodded. “It’s likely the inside of the mafia has become a disaster. Since, as you know, they were the source of the vampire outbreak, they may have judged the Agency’s strategy to be essential to the mafia, too.”

            “It’s…It’s a strategy of much importance, then,” said Atsushi.

            Ranpo look at him grimly. “Without exaggeration, the fate of the world depends on it.”

            “Well, from here, the general meeting of the Armed Detective Agency begins,” said Fukuzawa, his arms crossed as he considered the situation. “First of all, we’ll review the present conditions. Ranpo.”

            “Yessir,” said Ranpo, popping popcorn into his mouth. “Like you guys know, the conditions are a mess, and the enemy is doing whatever they want. Our enemy, the Decay of Angels…Sigma the Manager, Dostoevsky the Evil, Bram Stoker the Undead King, Gogol the Clown, and Ouchi Fukuchi ‘Kamui.’ Their plan has entered its last stage. They’re disseminating infectious vampires throughout the world.

            “By now, they’ve made the armies of sixteen countries surrender. The troops that were turned into vampires are being eerily quiet, yet the remaining nations’ governments are working feverishly. Well, with reason, I’d say, since they can’t guess how many vampires are lurking within their own armies,” finished Ranpo.

            “Those ‘vampires,’ what are they precisely?” asked (Y/N).

            “The Undead King Bram Stoker’s ability,” said Ranpo. “People bitten by Bram turn into vampires under his command, whom he can control. The bitten can also spread the infection to even more people, which means…”

            “It will spread exponentially,” murmured (Y/N) grimly.

            “Bram is one of the ‘Ten Calamities to Destroy the World’ that formerly existed beaten many years ago by the hero Ouchi Fukuchi and sealed by the Holy Sword,” said Fukuzawa. “However, considering his current state, that could only be another preliminary arrangement for the plan.”

            “Yeah, well, given all that, each country’s top brass must be getting stomach aches and no sleep. You see, the vampires slip into organizations with ease. And it seems that, not knowing who within the country’s army is a vampire, there’s even begun to be friendly fire from suspicion and imaginary fear,” said Ranpo. “Each of the vampires under Bram’s control has the potential to act like a single life form. Geeze, it’s extremely unfair. If it were me, I’d give it all up, go back, eat cheap sweets, and sleep.”

            “Guiding the world to chaos that way…that’s the enemy’s objective, isn’t it?” asked Tanizaki.

            “Nope. Naturally, that’d be impossible,” said Ranpo. “Because either way, up ahead are the headquarters of the ability warmakers, and those European powers are abstaining. In particular, if England, Germany, and France’s material resources were involved, peace would be reestablished in about half a year. Of course, at that point, dozens of countries would have been destroyed.”

            “So what are they after, then?” asked (Y/N).

            “Their true aim is ‘One Order,’ ” said Ranpo. “One of the Great Disasters that were sealed away. An abomination born of the Great War: a mind-controlling ability weapon.”

            (Y/N) felt something deep inside of her understand the significance of One Order.

            “All of you, how many bullets do you think it takes, on average, for a soldier to kill one enemy on the battlefield?” asked Ranpo.

            “If one would finish them off, then five, maybe ten?” offered Atsushi.

            “No, if the average includes intimidation and containment shots, that’s one magazine or more, so you’d need from thirty to sixty bullets, right?” said Kunikida.

            “It’s fifty thousand,” said Yosano as she thought of all the death she watched during her time as Mori’s nurse.

            “That’s the numbers of actual war in the Pacific Rim countries. Most soldiers don’t just aim at their enemies and fire. They ‘pretend’ fighting and missing their targets because they don’t want to see their own shot kill someone,” said Ranpo. “That’s a soldier. That’s the battlefield. For one, even on the front lines, to shoot and kill someone is ‘the ordinary.’ And most people can’t bear it.

            “But if those on site were such cowards, even winning battles would be lost. As a countermeasure, armies have trained their soldiers to ‘shoot by reflex, without thinking’ and so accuracy rates improved, but…then post-traumatic stress disorder surged among veterans. Even suicide became frequent. So, to put it simply, by nature, a battlefield is not a place where people can be.

            “Now then, that being so, they wanted a ‘humane’ tool to protect soldiers from war itself. With that concept, ‘One Order’ was developed,” said Ranpo.

            “How would one do that?” breathed Atsushi.

            “Ranpo, I’ll explain it from here,” said Fukuzawa. “One Order was a weapon that resembled an ability like my own or (Y/N)’s. It is similar to my ‘All Men are Created Equal’ in its extension only over my subordinates. Then, like (Y/N)’s ability, it allows for absolute control over that in its purview.”

            “The subordinates must act as ordered…” said (Y/N). How could they ethically create such a device?

            “This radio device, built by an ability technician combining abilities to machines, was intended to be used by front line commanders,” continued Fukuzawa. “When a subordinate is commanded by One Order, their body moves like an extension of their superiors. They execute their orders automatically. There is no doubt nor guilt. Of course, because ‘the superior pulled the trigger, and the bullet killed the enemy,’ there’s no space left to feel responsibility or guilt. It’s a weapon that releases soldiers from the yoke of sin. Or, so it should have been.”

            “People realized how it could be used to a single person’s advantage instead of a nation’s, didn’t they?” said (Y/N). Fukuzawa and Ranpo nodded, but the others looked at her. “One person could take control of a country or murder their personal enemies with a single order if given One Order,” she clarified.

            Ranpo nodded. “The governments realized, and both the ability technician and everyone associated died in ‘accidents.’ Then, One Order was sealed.”

            “ ‘Sealed…’ ” repeated Tanizaki, furrowing his brow. “In other words, it wasn’t destroyed, was it?”

            “It should have been,” said Ranpo. “They might have considered the case of a global crisis like this one. That in itself is keen insight.”

            (Y/N)’s eyes widened. “Fukuchi has created a reality they were looking for; one where it’s necessary to have a ‘hero’ use One Order. And he’s their hero.”

            Ranpo continued gravely. “Fukuchi’s subordinates are the Humankind Army. The Humankind Army, to which every army in the world became affiliated. If their leader, Fukuchi, used One Order, humanity could join as one force and oppose the vampires.”

            “One force which Fukuchi will control with One Order,” said (Y/N), narrowing her eyes and clenching her fists. Dammit! He keeps winning, and it’s all going to plan! “Everything he’s plotting is coming true. In layman’s terms, he’ll have world domination within his grasp.”

            “We have twenty hours until then,” said Ranpo somberly. “Twenty hours form now, Fukuchi will receive One order at the airport. If we can prevent that, we’ll win. Now, I’ll explain the strategy to do so.”

l

            “How are you feeling?” asked Akira. They had gone over the plan a million times and now were just waiting to begin.

            “How am I supposed to feel?” murmured (Y/N). “Empowered or worried?”

            Akira cocked her head. “What do you mean?”

            “We’ve been getting everything wrong and playing right into Fukuchi and Dostoevsky’s hands this whole time,” said (Y/N). She looked at Akira with a strange darkness in her eyes. Akira didn’t like seeing her that grim. “How can we hope that now is different?”

            “Do you think something’s wrong?” questioned Akira.

            “How can I not?” said (Y/N). She ran a hand through her hair. “I just feel like we’re missing something.”

            “Like what?”

            “Why.”

            “ ‘Why?’ ”

            (Y/N) shook her head. “We don’t know why Fukuchi’s doing all this. Even the maddest have some reason to their actions. We know what, but we don’t know why. And I feel like without that information we’re missing something that could hurt us.”

Chapter Text

            It hadn’t worked.

            The Agency’s warning to the plane bringing One Order had failed. They had still arrived, plane cut apart by the Hunting Dogs, and Fukuchi stood triumphantly with the container of One Order in his hands. He knew that the Armed Detective Agency had done their best to keep him from getting it, called in every favor and used every card up their sleeve. But Fukuchi had won. He held the container tightly, almost reverently, and tried to open it.

            Nothing.

            His eyes widened. It wouldn’t open. The tried to force it open, but it wouldn’t move. The box was shrouded in some ancient ability sealing it shut. Fukuchi gritted his teeth. He knew precisely who was behind it.

            Nanako. Damn Nanako Mori was laughing at him from Hell as her actions in life prevented his final victory.

l

            “I’m bored of this room now,” said Dazai, lying back on his cot. He sat up. “It was fun at first, but we’re out of stuff to talk about now, too.”

            “Oh? But I have so much to say about my dear Angel.” Fyodor smirked. “It’s just you who refuses to respond to me.”

            Dazai’s gaze darkened. “I don’t like the way you talk about her. Besides—” he stopped the conversation from going farther “—it’s time to do the thing.”

            “The thing?” repeated Fyodor.

            Dazai looked up at him and smirked. “One of us dies.”

            “That is a fantastic idea,” said Fyodor, grinning sadistically.

            Both were fantasizing about killing the other and getting (Y/N) free of the other.

            “Right?” said Dazai, keeping up his bright attitude. “The surface is abuzz about the end of the world. If the two of us end up being the last ones alive, it’d be stupid.”

            “I absolutely agree,” said Fyodor. “Then maybe it’s time to esca—” He fell through the floor.

            Dazai blinked. “Fyodor? Don’t you think you’re jumping the gun just a little—” A whole opened up, and Dazai fell through.

            “Breakout magic successful!” cried Gogol excitedly with a tired Sigma behind him. “Just as suspected! Dazai’s ability only disables any special ability he touches! In other words, as long as he doesn’t touch the portal itself, I can still pull him through spatial splices. Applause for my assistant.”

            “Who’re you calling your assistant?” grumbled Sigma. “Shouldn’t you be telling them what’s going on?”

            “No worries, no worries,” chirped Gogol. “Told you, they get it already.”

            “Why did you break us out of our cells?” said Fyodor.

            “I missed you, bestie!” said Gogol, grabbing Fyodor’s hands. “I’m so glad you’re safe, my heart’s gonna burst! Why am I here? Do you even need to ask?! I’m here to murder you!”

            Dazai grinned. “Wow.” The game was getting interesting. Just wait, (Y/N). I’m coming, my light.

            Sure enough, Dazai and Fyodor didn’t stop smiling the entire time Gogol spoke. From taking the poison to learning about all the obstacles in their way to escape, neither genius wavered for a moment. Not only was the possibility of escape enticing but having the other dead and (Y/N) within their reach was attractive.

            “Well?” chirped Gogol as he finished explaining all the terrible deaths they could encounter. “Do you want to cry yet?”

            Fyodor and Dazai just sighed in happiness at the prospect of using their genius minds. Oh, and the idea of watching the other die.

            “Now! I’ll top it off with some good news,” said Gogol excitedly. “In honor of your march towards certain doom, I’ve got a bit of a present for you! Assistant, bring me the thing.”

            An irk mark appeared on Sigma’s head. “I’m not your assistant!” Still, he brought over a cart.

            “I’ll allow you each to take one of these items,” explained Gogol. “They’re powerful weapons that may lead you to victory! First, a radio used by armed guards. You’ll need one of these to know where the guards are. Second, a top-level clearance door card. The door to the ocean heliport can only be opened with one of these. Third, coin bombs. Now with extra explosives! Leftovers from when I snuck in here. Fourth, a satellite phone. There’s radio reception on the first floor. If you make it there, you can request help from any of your accomplices worldwide. In some ways, it’s the most powerful weapon.”

            “I see,” remarked Dazai. “So the battle…”

            “…has already begun,” finished Fyodor.

            “Feel free to choose first,” said Dazai casually.

            “Why, thank you very much,” said Fyodor with fake pleasantries. “I’ll take this one.” He stepped forward and pointed at the security card.

            “I see! Very well,” said Gogol. “Now, Dazai, what will you choose?”

            Dazai smirked. “Let’s see…” He raised a pointer finger. “I like this one.”

            Gogol, Fyodor, and Sigma’s eyes widened as Dazai pointed at Sigma.

            “Me?!” said Sigma.

            Gogol laughed brightly. “I like you! You’re great.”

l

            Sigma was amazed and horrified by how casual Dazai seemed about the entire situation. First he just danced around, second he brought Sigma into his ridiculous antics, and now Dazai was smiling at the realization that Chuuya Nakahara was a vampire and under Fyodor’s control. How did Dazai not realize how terrible their odds were? It was him and Sigma versus Fyodor and Chuuya. That was impossible.

            “Wow. That’s one nasty card he’s playing,” was all Dazai said, still with that damn smile.

            Sigma felt his stomach turn nauseous. They didn’t stand a chance.

            “Is this really safe?” he said as Dazai led them down the halls again. “It’s the master of gravity, Chuuya Nakahara, that we’re up against. He’s way more powerful in combat than we are.”

            “It’ll be fine!” said Dazai. “I’ve been thinking of ways to kill Chuuya every day for the past seven years.”

            Sigma frowned. “You don’t have an ability to kill Chuuya. The only person I’ve seen with a gift that could go up against him isn’t here.”

            Dazai glanced back. “Oh?”

            “(Y/N) from the Armed Detective Agency,” said Sigma.

            Dazai paused for barely a moment. “You’ve seen (Y/N)?”

            “She nearly saved my life,” said Sigma. “Her gift is powerful, and her heart is good. I was her enemy, but she wouldn’t kill me.” He looked down. “I tried to give her the information she needed. I hope it helped.”

            Dazai sighed. My girlfriend is such a bright light in this world that everyone goes head-over-heels for her. How troublesome. Still…it is good to know she’s persevering. His gaze focused. And I’m coming back to her.

            “Well, we don’t need to fight Chuuya,” said Dazai.

            “Huh?” said Sigma in confusion as the topic switched suddenly.

            “The walls of Mersault are made of anti-gifted metal,” said Dazai. “Not even Chuuya will get through it in time. Chuuya is strong. That’s why we’ll defeat him from here.” He stopped before a door.

            “This is the central surveillance room,” said Sigma. He watched Dazai type on the control pad. “What are you doing?”

            “This place isn’t called the world’s most secure prison for nothing,” said Dazai.

            “Don’t open the door!” cried Sigma. “It leads to the surveillance control room! Do you want us to be killed by the armed guards inside?!”

            “I already opened it!” chirped Dazai.

            Sigma braced to be shot, but nothing came. His eyes widened. The guards were all slumped across the ground. “You’re kidding…Did you do this? But we opened the door just now…How did you do this?!”

            “I told you.” Dazai winked. “I stopped time.” He strolled to a computer.

            “You stopped time?” said Sigma. “That’s impossible. Yours is a nullifying ability. Don’t mess with me!”

            “Mersault is a trade show for dangerous gifted,” said Dazai. “Gifted from all around the world are here. And she’s among them. A Gifted criminal. The world’s most successful thief. She was arrested when she stole eight military secrets in South America. Her special ability is fascinating.

            “For just a few seconds, she can stop all time around her,” explained Dazai. “She can affect a radius of several kilometers around her. She and Ango made a plea deal. In exchange for a shortened sentence, she would stop time every morning. And only the number of times Ango instructs her too.”

            “Hang on! You cancel her gift,” realized Sigma.

            “Bingo!” chirped Dazai. “I, alone, can move while time is stopped. And while time was stopped, I took control of the security room. Knocking out the guards while they couldn’t move was easier than beating up a sleeping monkey. Now, then, that gives you the answer to that homework I gave you, doesn’t it?”

            “I see. That’s how you get information from the outside,” said Sigma.

            “Yup,” said Dazai. “The duration and frequency of the pauses is a code in itself. You get it, don’t you?”

            “No one else can receive messages with that code,” said Sigma. Dazai had changed the codes to the doors, which was why Fyodor and Chuuya were left to drown in the heavy water instead of escaping. “Everything was as you’d planned…” he murmured.

            Dazai pressed a button, and the camera footage popped up. Fyodor and Chuuya were fighting to keep above the water dragging them down.

            “Can you hear me, Fyodor?” said Dazai, smirking. “How do you feel about your imminent drowning?”

            “You can’t kill me,” said Fyodor sharply.

            “I like that response, but how will you escape?” challenged Dazai. “You can’t use your special ability. The door’s indestructible. And Chuuya’s ability affects what he touches, so it’s not great for powders or water. So it must be with your ability, then, right? I’d love to see it, if that’s what you’re thinking. I suspect your ability isn’t of the kind that’ll get you out of this situation, though.” His smirk widened. “That’s why I chose this trap. I’ll tell (Y/N) about your sad, sad end.”

            Fyodor’s eyes narrowed.

            Dazai sighed. “Chuuya, it looks like this is goodbye. It’s a shame that it had to happen this way. It’s been seven years since we met. We never did get along, did we? But…come to think of it, there were times when we understood each other.” He closed his eyes, and memories of him and Chuuya ran through his mind. He blinked and smiled suddenly. “Sorry, couldn’t think of anything! Anyway! Goodbye!”

            In the dark room, Chuuya’s hat floated to the surface. He and Fyodor were nowhere to be seen.

l

            “(Y/N)?” said Akira.

            (Y/N) had her brow furrowed, and intense look on her face. “How are we gonna handle this?” Fighting Fukuchi means we could die, and I don’t want my friends to die. No, if someone dies, it’ll be me. I’ll make sure the others get out. I can handle Fukuchi for longer than the rest. She took a deep breath. “We’re split up. Dazai is in prison, Kenji and Atsushi went alone to find whoever Fukuchi is searching for since they’ll have Bram, and the rest of us are covering the airport.”

            “The plan was for us to stay here and guard for Hunting Dogs approaching,” said Akira.

            “We both know they’re going to get to the Agency whether we’re here or not,” said (Y/N). “And the fighting will slow everything down. Fukuchi will figure out a way to get into One Order’s container. We’re lucky enough that it’s sealed right now.”

            “So, what’re you thinking?” Akira leaned forward. She trusted (Y/N)’s judgement. People underestimated her, but she an intelligent woman, far cleverer than people gave her credit for.

            “I’m thinking we trust the Agency to handle themselves,” said (Y/N). She lifted her gaze to meet Akira’s. “We fought and survived Fukuchi once. We have the best chance out of any of them of doing it again.” She took a deep breath. “But it is still a risk, and I don’t want to lose you.”

            Akira grinned. “There’s always going to be a risk of dying. Honestly? As long as I’d be dying while putting a sword through the chest of the monster who murdered my mother, I’ll be fine.”

            “Then we’re doing this?” said (Y/N).

            Akira squeezed (Y/N)’s hand. “There’s a Will; There’s a Way. And you always find a way.”

Chapter Text

            (Y/N) and Akira moved through the airport halls without encountering anyone. Civilians had been evacuated, and the Hunting Dogs were, presumably, already battling Agency members. They paused at the windows to peer down at the runway. Ranpo and Fukuzawa stood across from Fukuchi. Beside Fukuchi, two medical beds holding Kunikida and Tanizaki sat on the ground.

            (Y/N)’s eyes widened. “Damn!” she cursed, green sparks flying up around her fist. “He’s already taking us out!” She gritted her teeth. “We need to get down there.”

            “I’ll go,” said Akira.

            (Y/N) looked at her. “What?”

            “If the Hunting Dogs and Fukuchi are gaining the upper hand, we need to split up,” said Akira. “I’ll join your boss and Ranpo. You find Bram.”

            “No way, I’m not letting you fight Fukuchi, you could die,” said (Y/N) fiercely.

            “I already told you that I’m only doing that if I’m taking him with me,” said Akira, just as passionately. “And you and I both know that I can hold my own against him.”

            “My ability would work better against him—”

            “That’s why I’ll go,” said Akira. She looked at (Y/N) levelly. “If I die and God forsakes me so much that Fukuchi doesn’t die with me, we’ll need you. The world will need you.” She smiled awkwardly. “Plus, let’s be honest, you’re better with people. You can handle Bram more than I can.”

            (Y/N) stared at her best friend. “I don’t like this.”

            “I know,” said Akira. She reached out and squeezed (Y/N)’s hand. “But we’ll handle it. You and me.”

            “Us against the world at this point,” chuckled (Y/N) mirthlessly, returning the gesture. “Be careful, Akira.” She smirked. “And give Fukuchi hell.”

            Akira grinned. “Hell Hath No Fury like a Mori scorned.”

            With a final encouraging look at each other, the pair of friends split up, one taking a step back to jump through the window, the other running down the hall. Akira braced and leapt forward.

            Hell Hath No Fury.

            Red light surrounded her, and horns and claws appeared. She effortlessly broke through the window, falling to the runway below as the first blood of Fukuchi and Fukuzawa’s fight was spilled.

            (Y/N) ran through the airport halls. She had no real idea where she was going, but she was following her intuition, her will. It had never steered her wrong before. It was a deeply imbedded part of her.

            She narrowed her eyes in determination. This would not be the end of the Agency or the world.

l

            Fukuchi tossed Ranpo’s limp body to the side, and Fukuzawa drew his sword. He refused to watch his son get hurt, not after Fukuchi had already hurt so many of his detectives. Fukuchi faced him readily, glowing sword at his side, ready to pierce the past and disrupt Fukuzawa’s present attacks.

            The very moment before they lunged, a crash echoed over the runway. The silver-haired men paused and looked to the sky. A being of red and black jumped across the sun, landing in a rainfall of glass on the tarmac with them. Akira Mori had arrived. She looked up, eyes completely black, claws ready to strike.

            Fukuchi tsked. “I thought I’d killed you. I suppose you Moris are always troublesome.”

            “We do our best to be,” responded Akira, straightening.

            “Where’s (Y/N)?” said Fukuzawa sharply. The two women had been intent on being a team. So where was (Y/N)?

            “We’re handling the situation,” said Akira. “Frankly, the plan has gone to shit.”

            “You think you can take me, girl?” said Fukuchi.

            Akira shrugged. “To be honest, I’m not sure.” Her glare sharpened, and the red glow around her darkened. “But I’m getting revenge for my mother, so I’m not going to back down.”

            Fukuzawa’s eyes widened at the realization. “Nanako…” His gaze turned on Fukuchi. “You killed Nanako?” He remembered the aftermath of her death. Mori had been destroyed. Any humanity he had seemed to die with Nanako.

            “She got in the way,” said Fukuchi coldly. “Just as all you are.”

            “Hey, Mr. Boss Man,” said Akira. “Should we get to it? I’m itching to kill this guy.”

            “Ah, youth. Always so ready to run to their deaths,” said Fukuchi, adjusting his stance and hold on his sword.

            Fukuzawa saw the movement, minute enough that only a fellow swordsman could see it. “We will not let this continue, Gen’ichiro.”

            “Then you must stop me, Yukichi,” said Fukuchi.

            They lunged, and Fukuzawa and Fukuchi parried one another, swords locking together.

            “You can’t defeat me,” said Fukuchi. “You have no way to see the future as I do.”

            Behind Fukuzawa, a portal of Fukuchi’s future attack appeared, but Fukuzawa leaned to the side and avoided it. He didn’t even need to look back.

            “I may not see the future, but I do see the past,” said Fukuzawa. “We’ve known each other for twenty years. I know your habits, your breath, your sword as well as my own.” He narrowed his eyes. “And I look to the future by letting those who are the future lead the way.”

            He pushed back on Fukuchi’s sword, and Fukuchi took a step back. At the same moment, Akira attacked, slicing down at Fukuchi with her claws. Fukuchi turned to dodge, and Akira twisted midair, grabbing his arm and throwing him over her shoulder. Claws ripped through skin, and Fukuchi twisted to land on his feet, striking at Akira. Behind him, Fukuzawa struck with his sword, and Fukuchi put out a hand, letting it stab through his palm. Blood from his arm and hand dripped to a puddle on the ground, but he refused to flinch as he stared his opponents down.

            “You never came to the battlefield with me,” he said darkly. “What do you know of me?” He tossed his sword up into the air.

            Fukuzawa and Akira’s eyes widened. They knew that wouldn’t be good. He was about to attack. The moment their eyes caught the flash of silver in the air, Fukuchi pulled out two throwing knives. With his gift activated, he thrust the knives at his opponents. The force of a hundred attacks pushed the knives through Akira and Fukuzawa’s stomachs.

            They were thrown back from Fukuchi as he caught his sword again and gazed at them darkly. Fukuzawa coughed up blood, and Akira gritted her teeth, refusing to cry out but holding a hand to her wound as blood seeped from it.

            “That battlefield changed everything,” said Fukuchi. “The man you knew is no more. You and I, as we were in those days, no longer exist anywhere.”

            “Will you shut up?!” hissed Akira, lunging upon him.

            He struck at her, and she dodged, demonic qualities protecting her. She dug claws into his ribs and side, pulling blood from him. He coughed, but with a flick of his wrist, a portal and future slice of his sword stabbed through Akira’s arm, forcing her to let go and fall.

            Her blood splattered across his uniform, and Fukuchi looked down coldly. And then his eyes widened. Nanako’s blood…

            Before he could move on his realization, Fukuzawa attacked. Fukuchi spun and parried. The pair were locked for a moment before Fukuchi pivoted and let Fukuzawa’s sword pass by his face. Fukuchi struck, and Fukuzawa stumbled to the ground as blood spilled from yet another wound.

            “Stay down,” said Fukuchi coldly. He stabbed Fukuzawa’s hand as he reached from his sword. “I won’t kill you yet. The final comedy of the human realm needs an audience.”

            Fukuzawa gritted his teeth. “You haven’t gotten One Order yet. You haven’t won, Gen’ichiro.”

            “Nanako sealed it. She can open it,” said Fukuchi.

            Fukuzawa’s eyes widened, and he watched Fukuchi turn on Akira. The young woman stood, fierce and undeterred by her wounds. Her gift kept her alive and fighting, her fury and thirst for revenge fueling her fight.

            “Gen’ichiro,” coughed Fukuzawa. “You targeted the Detective Agency to punish me for my betrayal, didn’t you? But you must understand that this can’t get revenge for all who died at war all those years ago.” He glared at Fukuchi. “There. I’ve named your objective. Free my people!”

            Fukuchi paused and looked back at Fukuzawa. Without a single movement, a portal opened, and Fukuzawa gasped as another blade stabbed through his back.

            “You’re wrong.”

            Fukuchi removed his blade and let Fukuzawa fall to the ground.

            As Fukuzawa fell, Akira recovered and moved at Fukuchi. She twisted around him as he attacked, unfazed by his sword, and grabbed his wrist. For a moment, they grappled for his sword.

            Akira coughed and choked on blood as the sword’s tip disappeared and reappeared in her chest. It cut through her at an odd angle, and she gasped for air as her lungs constricting, feeling the blade through her chest.

            She narrowed her eyes and plunged her claws into Fukuchi’s chest. She refused to back down. Even if she died, she was taking him with her. Her claws sunk into him, drawing blood and reaching for his heart. Before Akira could wrench his heart from his chest, though, a gasp was wrenched from her.

            All over her arms and legs, blood sprayed from wounds as Fukuchi’s sword multiplied with attacks of the future. Akira couldn’t remain standing and fell. Fukuchi caught her by the collar and pressed a hand to her wound. She growled and kicked him, but before she could make contact, another slash tore through her leg, and she went lip. Fukuchi pressed his fingers into her side’s wound again, and Akira gasped at the burning pain.

            Satisfied, Fukuchi let her go, and she slumped to the ground. He held up his bloody hand and stared down at Akira coldly. Turning, he picked up One Order’s container with his clean hand.

            “Nanako sealed this with blood. The blood of an angel cannot be tampered with,” said Fukuchi. His eyes moved to Fukuzawa and Akira. “But her own blood can open it.”

            Akira’s eyes widened, and Fukuzawa’s eyes narrowed.

            Fukuchi pressed Akira’s blood to the container of One Order. It glowed gold as Nanako’s sealing reacted to the blood that was partly her own. Mother and daughter’s blood mixed, and the golden light died away. Fukuchi stared in satisfaction as the box opened.

            One Order was revealed.

l

            “Why did you choose me over those useful tools?” asked Sigma as he and Dazai continued on their way through the halls of Mersault.

            “I have two reasons,” said Dazai. “First is Kunikida.” He hopped in front of Sigma.

            “What?” said Sigma in confusion.

            “It’s more fun doing what I do when there’s someone around to be surprised and amused at what I do!” said Dazai. He flicked Sigma’s hair.

            An irk mark appeared on Sigma’s forehead. “Don’t touch me!” Dazai was proving really irritating. “You’re bullshitting me yet again! Fine! I see how it is. I’m not even worth explaining to.”

            “That’s not it,” said Dazai. “I just didn’t think you’d get it, even if I did. You’ve been getting used by all sorts of organizations. You’d be hard-pressed to understand.” (Y/N)’s face appeared in Dazai’s mind, and he remembered how Sigma said she’d tried to save him. Dazai’s heart ached at the knowledge she was still out there in danger without him. The least he could do to honor her was to trust Sigma like she had. “Well, wanna try anyway? First, there’s one thing I want to make sure of. Your special ability lets you access information, even out of a corpse. Correct?”

            “Yeah. As long as it hasn’t been long since death,” said Sigma.

            “That’s why I chose you,” said Dazai. “I want you to read Fyodor’s future plans from his sunken corpse. I suspect his ability works on those he touches. But now that he’s dead, it’s safe to touch him. We have to discern his future plans from his corpse and save the Detective Agency at the airport.”

            “The Detective Agency?” Sigma’s eyes widened. “So you chose me and plotted to kill Fyodor before escaping the prison…all to help the Detective Agency?”

            “Well, they are the hand that feeds me.” Dazai paused. “And (Y/N) is there. She matters to me. I’m sure you can understand why.”

            Sigma stared at him and felt something stir in his heart as Dazai opened the elevator doors and stepped in. He followed dutifully, but something new was awake within him.

            “So, anyway, our destination’s at the end of this ride,” said Dazai. “Bend over.”

            Sigma stared at him but sighed and did as asked. Dazai climbed on top of him and opened a panel in the elevator. Sigma’s eye twitched.

            “What are you doing?” he asked. He felt pretty humiliated at this point.

            “Gotta check the circuitry, just in case,” said Dazai. “Good, no traps.” He climbed down and grinned. “And off we go!” The elevator began moving.

            “Back to what you were saying…” said Sigma, broaching the subject again. “You said you had two reasons for choosing me. What’s the second?”

            “If I hadn’t chosen you, Fyodor would have silenced you,” said Dazai matter-of-factly.

            “That’s your second reason?” asked Sigma. Dazai was silent, and Sigma’s gaze dropped. He assumed he’d get nothing else.

            “Odd…”

            Dazai’s tone drew Sigma’s attention. The brunette was staring suspiciously at the floor numbers ticking by.

            “It’s taking too long.”

            Bam!

            The elevator shook, and Dazai and Sigma were thrown around. The red emergency lights flicked on, and a fearful voice of a woman came on through the PA system.

            “Help…help me,” she cried. “I have nothing to do with this. I just used my time stop ability as I was ordered. So please—”

            Bang!

            A thud sounded over the intercom. The ability user was dead.

            “Now, Dazai,” drawled Fyodor’s voice, sickeningly sweet in his sadism. “I’m cold and wet, so I’ll keep it brief. Dazai, to be honest, I’m a little surprised. Not by the flooding, though. I’m surprised at the shallowness of your bond with the gravity manipulator. You didn’t even know he could stop the flood.”

            “What?” said Dazai.

            “We bent the rail walls ahead of time,” said Fyodor, smirking. “It may be the sturdiest wall in world, but its design philosophy was to ensure that it would be difficult to open. As a result, it was also made to be difficult to close once opened. The damage on the wall meant that the door failed to close fully, allowing water to leak. The rest was easy. We escaped through the crack. I don’t think you’re cut out to employ the gravity manipulator, being so sloppy in you thinking.”

            “He’s right that that might have allowed him to escape, but that wouldn’t have been possible if he hadn’t known that the flood was coming,” said Sigma.

            “Vampires,” said Dazai.

            “What?”

            “He must have changed one of the guards into a vampire and had them lie in wait. He suspected they were coming for him when they stopped contacting him,” said Dazai, narrowing his eyes.

            “The trial by flood was appropriate for me, seeing as I am a servant of God,” continued Fyodor. “But I’m rather sickly. I would be in real trouble if I were to fall ill. So I’ll repay you with the same trial.” He smirked and pressed a button.

            Water exploded into the elevator, and Sigma jumped, and Dazai’s eyes widened.

            Fyodor leaned forward into the microphone. “What was that you said to me, Dazai? Oh, yes. ‘I’ll tell (Y/N) about your sad, sad end.’ Don’t worry. I’ll make sure to comfort my dear Angel.”

            Dazai’s eyes narrowed angrily as the water rose around him. “I won’t let you…touch her!” Anything else he would have said was swallowed by the water closing over his head.

Chapter Text

            Dazai and Sigma sunk beneath the water as explosions rocked the elevator from above. Fyodor was going above and beyond to rid himself of Dazai. Sigma gripped his mouth, feeling his breath running out.

            Dazai pressed a hand to his shoulder. He patted his chest, and Sigma looked down, seeing the gun tucked into his vest. He raised it and fired, but it merely dented the walls of the elevator through the water.

            Sigma’s chest lurched, and he had to keep from trying to breath. He was out of air. He looked up and saw the flames from the explosion had gone out. He moved upwards, but Dazai grabbed his hand and pulled him down before he breached the surface. For a moment, Sigma’s eyes widened in panic, and he felt the familiar fear for his life return.

            But then he saw Dazai’s eyes. They weren’t murderous or treacherous. He was calmly trying to keep Sigma’s attention. He pointed up and shook his head, gesturing to his throat as if choking. Sigma understood. Dazai was saving him since the flames had used up the oxygen. He would suffocate if he tried to take a breath up there. Dazai had saved Sigma.

            The lilac- and white-haired man felt his heart jump again. These detectives were all so different from the Decay of the Angel. They actually protected people…

            Unfortunately, that wouldn’t save them from drowning, and that was the immediate concern. Still, Dazai seemed focused, and Sigma felt himself calm. The man had a plan. Dazai took the gun from Sigma’s hands and pushed out of the water. He shot at the vent above the elevator. He used Sigma’s back to launch farther up and grab the edge of the vent. Reaching in, Dazai shot the end of the vent, into the tensile wire controlling the elevator doors.

            Sigma put all his strength into pulling the door open, and water gushed out. Sigma and Dazai heaved a deep breath as the water left the elevator and fresh oxygen rushed into the elevator.

            “I’m alive,” breathed Sigma. He jerked up in alarm. “Dazai!”

            He turned, but Dazai hung from the vent and gave him a thumbs-up. Sigma smiled in relief.

            Then an explosion went off, and the elevator rocked. Dazai fell from the vent to the ground, and Sigma stumbled. The elevator fell downwards, and Dazai and Sigma braced themselves as they fell. Dazai grabbed Sigma and steeled himself.

            “I did make a promise…That’d I’d get you out alive,” said Dazai.

            He pushed Sigma out of the space in the door. Sigma turned in the air as he fell into a corridor.

            Dazai smiled. “It’s up to you now.”

            The elevator fell out of view, taking Dazai with it.

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            (Y/N) slowed as she saw a young girl above a tower alongside a strange looking man impaled on a sword. Bram and the girl who stole him! Her intuition hadn’t failed her.

            (Y/N) needed to get up there. Flicking her wrist, a table soared through the window, and (Y/N) stood in the space.

            “Don’t come!” shouted the girl. “It’s a trap!”

            (Y/N) reacted the moment she spoke and dodged a stab of darkness. Whirling, she found vampire Akutagawa stared at her, suspended in a web of Rashomon. He growled and sent several tendrils at her, and (Y/N)’s gift caught it, suspending the pieces of cloth in green.

            “(Y/N)!” called Atsushi, appearing behind Akutagawa.

            “Atsushi, watch out,” warned (Y/N). She curled her hand into a fist, and the pieces of Rashomon she held back broke apart.

            Atsushi leapt into the air and attacked Akutagawa. The vampire turned on him and batted the weretiger back.

            “Akutagawa! It’s me! Don’t you recognize me?!” called Atsushi, landing on his feet.

            Akutagawa just snarled, and Rashomon erupted from beneath the ground. (Y/N)’s gift kept her safe, and her fingers tensed to keep up the protection. Atsushi leapt around within the web and launched at Akutagawa. The pair were focused on each other.

            “Atsushi! Keep Akutagawa! I’ll help the girl,” said (Y/N).

            “How are you going to get up there?” called Atsushi, barely able to divert his attention from Akutagawa’s attacks.

            “I’ll find a way,” said (Y/N). “You just hold Akutagawa back.” She smiled. “You two understand each other. If anyone can fight him like this, it’s you.”

            Atsushi felt himself thrum with the encouragement, and he leapt back into his battle with renewed power. A slight green glow propelled him forward while (Y/N) turned to face the tower. Pieces of Rashomon stabbed up from the ground, but (Y/N) barely glanced at them. Her gift was working on near-subconscious levels and curled up around the threads attacking her.

            (Y/N) approached the tower and narrowed her eyes. The young girl gazed down at her worriedly. (Y/N) smiled up at her. Holding out her hand, (Y/N) curled her fingers. Tiles of the tower bent outwards into stairs, and (Y/N) ran upwards. The wind whipped at her, but (Y/N) didn’t cower. Rashomon shot up at her even as Atsushi drew most of Akutagawa’s attention, and (Y/N)’s path was disrupted. She stumbled and fell to the side.

            (Y/N) refused to let fear overtake her. There’s a Will; There’s a Way. A green light shone over her body, and she hung, suspended in the air. She let out a breath and floated back to the path she’d created. Landing softly, (Y/N) blinked. That was new. She smiled, and green sparks floated around her hands. Her gift was growing stronger.

            Wasting no more time, (Y/N) ran and jumped up to the top of the tower. She landed in a haze of green, stood, and looked at Bram and the girl.

            “Hello,” said (Y/N). “I’m (Y/N). I’m here to help you.”

            “I’m Aya…” said the girl, staring at the woman in amazement.

            “Aya,” repeated (Y/N). She smiled softly. “You’ve been very brave.” She smiled and held out a hand. “Let me take over now, alright?”

            Aya gazed at her, wide-eyed. The sun shown down on (Y/N), illuminating her in a haze of gold and warmth. Green light hovered around her outstretched hand. Aya had the distinct impression she was staring at an angel.

            “Right…” said Aya, taking the woman’s hand.

            (Y/N) helped her up and away from the edge of the building. Then, she turned to Bram.

            “You must be Bram,” she said.

            “And you must be one of Fukuchi’s enemies,” said Bram.

            “I am.” She looked at the sword Bram was impaled on. (Y/N) understood immediately. “He’s controlling you and your gift, isn’t he?”

            Bram blinked. “Yes.”

            (Y/N) smiled. “How can I help you?”

            “You would help your enemy?” said Bram distrustfully.

            “You’re a victim,” said (Y/N). “And I help people who are in trouble.”

            “He needs you to pull out the sword!” said Aya. “He can’t control the vampires and stop them from hurting people unless it’s removed, but I can’t pull it.” It was clear that Bram and Aya had bonded as they escaped Fukuchi. “I tried super hard, but I wasn’t strong enough. But I was going to keep trying. I’d tie myself to the sword and jump if I had to!”

            (Y/N) knelt before Aya. “That’s brave, Aya,” she said. “But you don’t need to throw away your life like that, alright? You’re worth more than that.”

            Aya’s eyes widened. This woman was so gentle, even in the midst of death and world-ending crises.

            “Bram, will you keep her safe after I take the sword out?” said (Y/N).

            “I owe her a debt of freedom,” said Bram. “But I doubt you can remove the sword. It is imbedded in my very nerves, the core of my gift.”

            (Y/N) raised a hand, and the sword in Bram turned green. “Brace yourself.”

            (Y/N) clenched a fist, and the light on the sword swarmed up into Bram. His eyes widened as the green went through his nerves, cutting through the pieces of the sword attached to him. It was an odd sensation, but (Y/N)’s eyes glowed green. She was in complete control, even if she couldn’t see the pieces of the sword she was manipulating. Then, she pulled her hand down. The sword pulled out of Bram, and he gasped as his body breathed easily for the first time in far, far too long.

            His body glowed as his vampiric abilities allowed his body to reform, and he stood shakily on his own two legs. He stared at (Y/N) and Aya.

            He bowed to them. “I owe you two a great debt.”

            “Thank Aya. She saved you from Fukuchi. She would have saved you from the sword,” said (Y/N). She glanced down from the tower to wear Atsushi and Akutagawa battled. “The only thing I can ask is for you to stop the vampires who are attacking.” She looked at him intently. “And if you can, release them from the curse.”

            “Of course,” said Bram. “I will do so as soon as I take Aya to safety. She is my savior. I am her knight.” Aya smiled at him, and Bram, awkwardly, smiled back at the girl, the expression almost fatherly. Ah, trauma bonding.

            “Good.” (Y/N) crouched at the edge of the tower. “I’d move quickly. Once Fukuchi figures out you’re free, he’ll try to kill you.”

            “What about you?” asked Aya.

            “I need to stop him from hurting more people,” said (Y/N). “Stay safe, Aya. I hope to see you again.” And then, she jumped.

            “What strange women are in this century,” said Bram.

            “I don’t think she was just a woman…” said Aya. “The minute she came, everything felt alright. People aren’t like that. It’s like she just knew that everything would be okay, and it was…”

l

            Sigma pressed the gun to Fyodor’s head. He hesitated as Fyodor stared at him. Was this a trick? No, it couldn’t be…This had to be some other mind pressed down by the evil manipulator Fyodor was. Sigma reached out for the knife to kill Fyodor.

            Schick!

            Fyodor spun the knife and sunk the blade into Sigma’s stomach.

            “Just kidding,” he said, smirking. He let Sigma’s body fall. “Split personalities are such a stale trope, but I figured you’d fall for it.” Sigma lunged for the gun again, but Fyodor kicked him away. “Pardon me. I had to make sure you were committed. But since you clearly are…” He knelt beside Sigma. “Now, please go ahead and read what you’d like.” He extended a hand.

            Sigma reached out and touched Fyodor’s hand. He gasped, and information flooded into his mind. It was too much, too much, his brain couldn’t hold it, it was overwhelming, overloading, it was—

            Sigma’s body slumped to the floor.

l

            Dazai lay slumped against the wall of the corridor. Chuuya stared down at him. Dazai sighed.

            “I’ve imagined this situation so many times,” said Dazai. “Though, in my imagination, we were on opposite sides.” He stared at Chuuya, who didn’t respond. “What’s wrong? Come, Chuuya. Entertain me with your flimsy punch!”

            Chuuya lunged.

            “Stop.”

            Fyodor’s direction from the security room made Chuuya pause.

            “It’s a provocation,” said Fyodor. “He’s trying to release you from your vampiric state by having you touch him. Take him out from afar.”

            Dazai’s gaze hardened. “Damn.”

            Chuuya shot, and Dazai gasped as blood sprayed from his shoulder. “Bitch! That hurt! Where do you think you’re aiming?! You suck at this!”

            Chuuya approached and held the gun to Dazai’s forehead.

            “This is just the worst,” muttered Dazai. “I’m in pain. I lose to Fyodor. And to top it off, it’s Chuuya that’s about to kill me.”

            “Yes, you do lose to me,” said Fyodor across the intercom. “My poor Angel will be so sad. But don’t worry. I’ll make sure she forgets you.” He smirked into the microphone, and Dazai could hear it in his voice. “Poor Dazai. You failed her.”

            Dazai’s heart clenched at the idea of failing (Y/N), losing her.

            “Goodbye, Dazai. I’d say I’m sorry to see you go, but I’m not. I revel in it,” said Fyodor.

            Dazai looked up at Chuuya’s glare. He wouldn’t just cower at Fyodor’s words.

            “Chuuya…” he said. “Wake up. Our fate isn’t to be done here. For our—”

            Bang!

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            (Y/N) fell through the air from the tower, and as she went, a golden light beamed into the sky. She shielded her eyes, but it didn’t take a genius to know what it was. Fukuchi had gotten One Order to open.

            There’s a Will; There’s a Way

            (Y/N)’s gift thrummed to life at the realization, and light shown around her. Energy formed at her fingertips.

            “All units, attack!” said Fukuchi into One Order.

            Around the world, war began.

            And (Y/N) exploded into green light.

Chapter Text

            “Merry Christmas!” said (Y/N), opening the door and letting Chuuya and Akira in. “Dinner’s almost ready.”

            “Please tell me the Mackerel isn’t the one cooking,” said Chuuya as he glanced at the kitchen of the apartment in horror.

            “Don’t worry, I made him swear not to poison your food,” said (Y/N), smiling.

            Chuuya huffed gruffly but nodded in thanks. He and (Y/N) had a strange relationship to one another, but they mutually cared about Akira (and (Y/N) kept Dazai from causing Chuuya more trouble than usual), so they liked each other. (Though (Y/N) had insinuated to Chuuya that if he hurt Akira again she would use her gift and all of One Order’s power to destroy him, so Chuuya was a little worried Dazai was rubbing off on her).

            “You’re so thoughtful,” said Akira, hugging (Y/N) and kissing her cheeks. “What would we do without you?”

            (Y/N) smiled. “You all would be alright, I’m sure.”

            “I’m pretty sure Akira would be dead by now,” remarked Chuuya.

            Akira chuckled. “He’s not wrong.”

            (Y/N) sweat-dropped. Unfortunately.

            “Chuuuuuya~” said Dazai, sliding out of the kitchen in fuzzy socks. He had an apron on that said “Kiss the Cook” and a santa hat on his heat. “Merry Christmas!” He lunged to hug Chuuya, and Chuuya used his ability to flip himself into the air and crouch on the ceiling so Dazai missed.

            “Chuuya, get down here and let Dazai hug you. It’s Christmas,” said Akira.

            “No,” said Chuuya. “You just want me to suffer.”

            Akira grinned. “It’s kind of funny.”

            “Come on down, Chuuya!” said Dazai, jumping and trying to reach Chuuya. “Let me give you a Christmas hug!”

            “Dazai,” said (Y/N) with a sigh.

            Dazai pouted. “I want to hug him.”

            “No, you want to throttle him,” said (Y/N), rolling her eyes. “I’m only asking him to come down if you promise to actually be nice.”  She gazed at Dazai intently. “You want me to have a nice Christmas, don’t you.”

            Dazai caved instantly. “Absolutely.”

            “That’s adorable, he listens to you,” said Akira.

            “Well, I don’t,” said Chuuya.

            “What if I asked you to come down?” asked Akira.

            Chuuya deadpanned, and Akira shrugged with a laugh. “Fair enough.”

            (Y/N) smiled and looked up at Chuuya. A green glow appeared around him.

            Chuuya froze. “Wait—”

            He was pulled to the ground by (Y/N)’s gift and landed right in Dazai’s waiting arms. He squawked unceremoniously and tried to pull away, but Dazai hugged him tightly.

            Akira threw her arm around (Y/N)’s shoulders. “You know something?”

            “What?” said (Y/N), watching her and Akira’s boyfriends in amusement.

            “You’re the matriarch of this family,” said Akira.

            “No, I’m just not as crazy as you guys,” said (Y/N), smiling. She leaned her best friend/sister’s shoulder. “But don’t worry. I like you guys this way.”

            Akira smiled.

l

            After dinner (during which Chuuya was not poisoned by Dazai), the group cleaned up and then sat down to exchange gifts.

            “Alright, I’ll go first,” said Akira, holding up a gift. “This is for Dazai.”

            “I get something?” he said in surprise.

            “Yep!” said Akira.

            Dazai eagerly opened the gift and lifted a box full of multicolored bandages out. He started laughing out loud at the joke gift. “Thanks.”

            Akira shrugged with a smirk. “Knew you’d like a laugh.” She tossed another gift to Chuuya. “Here!”

            Chuuya caught it and opened it up. It was a brand-new harness for him in Akira’s signature red. “It’s high-quality,” he said, surprised.

            “I make money,” said Akira, grinning. “And I like spoiling my boyfriend so that he’ll look good.” She winked.

            Chuuya turned red and rolled his eyes. “Yeah, yeah.”

            “And finally, (Y/N)!” said Akira happily, handing over her final gift.

            “This is going to be her most thoughtful, isn’t it?” murmured Dazai to Chuuya.

            “(Y/N)’s her favorite,” said Chuuya, nodding.

            “Fair enough,” said Daza.

            (Y/N) opened her box and held up a pale green dress. “Oh, it’s beautiful, Akira!”

            “I remembered you liked it,” said Akira, smiling. “And we have a girl’s day coming up with tea and brunch, so why shouldn’t we dress up?”

            (Y/N) grinned. “Exactly!” There was nothing better than dressing up with her best friend and spending the day spoiling themselves (and then fighting over who got to pay for who when since they both wanted to spoil the other).

            Akira leaned over to Dazai as (Y/N) turned to grab her gifts. “You know, that dress would look great with a ring.”

            Dazai blinked in surprise and looked at Akira, but before he could respond, (Y/N) was ready to hand out her presents.

            “Here you go, Akira,” she said.

            Akira opened it and smiled. It was a set of wine glasses with painted designs of dragons and flames. “I love them!” she said.

            (Y/N) smiled. “I hoped you would.” She reached out and handed Chuuya a gift. “And I have something for you, Chuuya.”

            Chuuya was surprised, but he opened it up. It was a photo framed in gold and red with Akira and Chuuya in an actually sweet moment within. He smiled softly. “Thanks.”

            “You’re welcome, Chuuya,” said (Y/N). She turned to Dazai. “And for you.”

            “Thank you, love,” he said, taking his gift and opening it. He smiled softly. He wouldn’t lift it to show everyone, but it was a book with a cover in the same styles of his “ways to commit you-know-what” book. However, the title was “Reasons I love You.” It was sweet, and his hands trembled a little with emotion as he held it. “Thank you, (Y/N),” he said, gazing at her.

            She smiled softly, knowing what he was thinking. “Of course, Dazai.” Then, to save him from having to feel emotionally vulnerable, she looked at Chuuya. “How about you go next?”

            Chuuya nodded. “Alright.” He held out a gift to Dazai. “Here, Mackerel.”

            Dazai pretended to be shocked. “For me?!”

            “Like you didn’t already see I had three gifts,” huffed Chuuya.

            Dazai grinned and just opened his gift. “Is this my old gun?” he said.

            “This is reminder that if you ever make me have to pull that stupid stunt of pretending to shoot you again, I’m actually going to do it,” said Chuuya.

            (Y/N) furrowed her brow in confusion. “What?”

            “He didn’t tell you about Meursalt?” asked Chuuya.

            “No,” said (Y/N). She turned to Dazai, and he coughed in confusion. “You nearly got shot?”

            “In the head,” said Chuuya.

            “I wasn’t actually shot,” said Dazai. Seeing (Y/N)’s worried face, he reached over and squeezed her hand guiltily and looked at Chuuya. “Uh, how about you keep giving out your presents? What about your one for (Y/N)?”

            “I can’t believe I’m saving your ass,” said Chuuya, but he handed over the gift anyways.

            (Y/N) sighed at Dazai before opening her gift from Chuuya. She brightened. “Oh, thank you, Chuuya!” She held up the stack of books Chuuya had gifted her.

            He nodded. “Akira mentioned you’d been looking for them.” And he was trying to make a good impression on Akira’s basically-sister. There wasn’t much family to impress (no way in hell was he telling his boss he was dating his daughter), but (Y/N) meant a lot to Akira (and was a very powerful person in Yokohama) so he wanted to show that he was thoughtful.

            “And this is for you, Akira,” said Chuuya, handing over a box.

            Akira opened it and smiled. “It’s beautiful, Chuuya.” It was a painting of a woman standing in the midst of flames. It was very Akira-esque.

            “I saw it, and it reminded me of you,” said Chuuya.

            “Aw, thanks!” said Akira, turning a bit pink.

            (Y/N) and Dazai exchanged looks. Not many people would be flattered by hearing that they remind someone of arson and rage, but female rage sounded like Akira.

            “I guess it’s my turn,” said Dazai, picking up his three gifts and distributing them.

            Akira opened hers and laughed. She and Dazai had both done joke gifts for one another. Hers was a harness and a hat to match with Chuuya. “I love it!”

            Chuuya grinned at Dazai. “The jokes on you, I’m not embarrassed, I’m going to love seeing her in that.”

            “With probably little else,” whispered Akira to (Y/N), and she laughed.

            Chuuya opened his next and rolled his eyes. “Are these heels?”

            “Because you’re so small,” said Dazai brightly.

            “I think he’ll look great in heels,” said Akira, smiling.

            (Y/N) shook her head and chuckled. For all their playful banter, Akira and Chuuya had a strong relationship that had overcome a lot, and they liked one another. It was cute.

            “(Y/N), love, open yours,” said Dazai.

            “Alright, alright,” chuckled (Y/N). She opened her gift, and her breath caught. “Oh, Dazai, I love it.” It was a painting recreating a photograph taken at the last celebrating the ADA had. It was all of (Y/N)’s friends (and Akira) standing together and smiling and happy.

            “Merry Christmas, love,” he said.

            (Y/N) hugged him tightly, and Dazai smiled, kissed her cheek, and held her back. Akira smiled and rested her head on Chuuya’s shoulder. He smiled and kissed her forehead.

            A Merry Christmas indeed to this little family.

Chapter Text

            “Akira, Chuuya!” greeted (Y/N) merrily as she and Dazai walked into the restaurant and spotted the other couple. “What a surprise!”

            “(Y/N),” said Akira, grinning. “I didn’t expect you two.”

            “It appears we reserved at the same restaurant,” said (Y/N).

            “Join us?” said Akira.

            “We’d love to,” said (Y/N).

            “Oh, great, Dazai’s here. Just what I need when I’m on a date,” muttered Chuuya.

            “Be nice,” said Akira.

            “Yeah, Chuuya, be nice!” said Dazai, grinning.

            “Dazai,” said (Y/N).

            Dazai immediately caved. “Don’t worry, my light. I won’t ruin the night.” He pulled her chair out and kissed her cheek. “Not on Valentine’s Day.”

            “How do you do that?” asked Chuuya.

            “Do what?” said (Y/N), smiling and picking up her wine glass after Akira poured.

            “Get him to listen to you,” said Chuuya. “He’s usually the most annoying person ever.”

            (Y/N) laughed. “Dazai is definitely a free spirit. But I can be persuasive.”

            “And he’s head-over-heels,” teased Akira.

            “In my defense, it is (Y/N),” said Dazai, shrugging. He was in love with her. He’d go to the ends of the earth for her.

            “Fair enough,” said Akira.

            “I think you like (Y/N) more than you like me,” said Chuuya, not really upset but more amused.

            “Of course I do!” said Akira brightly.

            “Not more than I do,” said Dazai.

            “You’re just a man. I’m her sister,” said Akira proudly.

            “Alright, you two, that’s enough,” said (Y/N). She smiled at Chuuya. “These two are quite a handful.”

            “We can agree on that,” said Chuuya.

            “Uh-oh, they’re ganging up on us,” said Akira. “And on Valentine’s Day, too!”

            “Traitors,” cried Dazai dramatically.

            (Y/N) and Chuuya rolled their eyes in fond amusement.

l

            “Dinner was delicious. Thank you for treating us, Chuuya,” said Akira.

            “For you,” said Chuuya, smiling at her. He had the money, after all. Why not spoil Akira?

            (Y/N) stood. “I’d love to stay and chat, but I’d really like to dance.” Indeed, the music was beautiful, and couples were already on the dance floor swaying. “Dazai, would you like to join?”

            “Of course, my love,” said Dazai, rising and taking (Y/N)’s hand. They moved onto the dance floor and began dancing.

            “Akira, would you want to dance?” said Chuuya, extending a hand.

            “I’d love to,” said Akira, taking his hand.

            They stood and joined the rest of the couples on the dance floor.

            “I’m glad you took time to go out with me,” said Akira, smiling at Chuuya after he spun her, and her red dress’s ruffles fanned out around her.

            “I’m glad you said yes,” said Chuuya. “I know I’ve…messed up. But I really want to be with you. I’ve never…felt like this for anyone. And even if it takes a lifetime, I want to make up for my mistakes.”

            Akira chuckled and smiled, and Chuuya’s heart thrummed happily at the gentleness of her eyes. “Well, this is a good start. Honesty,” said Akira. “I respect it. And, as much as I was hurt, I like you, Chuuya. I really do.”

            Chuuya smiled. “I really like you, too.” Neither was ready to say those words yet. But they knew they shared their feelings.

            (Y/N) looked back at Dazai after glancing at the other couple. “It seems they’re making up. I’m glad.”

            “Not everyone’s relationships start out as smoothly as ours,” said Dazai, pulling (Y/N) closer as they swayed, and her green dress spun around with them.

            (Y/N) smiled. “I suppose I got lucky with you.”

            “My light, I am the lucky one,” said Dazai. “I have never been a good man. And you are pure goodness. I have really been blessed to be loved by you.”

            (Y/N) laughed gently and smiled at Dazai. “Oh, Dazai. I love you for you. And no matter what you think of yourself, I see you trying. You help people. You care about others. You can’t change the past, but you’re changing your present. And that’s what I care about. Who you are now. That’s why I love you.”

            Dazai stared at (Y/N) as if she was an angel. She truly was a blessing. He had done nothing to deserve her—nothing that he could see. But perhaps she was right, the answer was simple. She loved him. And he? Well, that was obvious.

            “I love you, (Y/N),” said Dazai.

            “I love you, too, Dazai,” said (Y/N).

            They leaned in and kissed each other. They separated and gazed at each other lovingly.

            “(Y/N), want to dance with me?” called Akira, having broken off from Chuuya.

            “Do you mind?” said (Y/N).

            Dazai waved a hand. “I don’t control you.” He grinned. “Just don’t let Akira steal you forever.”

            (Y/N) laughed and took her best friend’s hand. Akira spun (Y/N), and the pair easily moved together to the music.

            Dazai smiled at he watched his love enjoy herself. His eyes slid to Chuuya, who was also watching Akira with a soft look in his eyes. Dazai could’ve left Chuuya alone to enjoy himself. But where would be the fun in that?

            “Oh, Chuuya~” said Dazai.

            “What do you want, Mackerel?” said Chuuya.

            “Well, our girlfriends are dancing…” began Dazai with an evil grin.

            “Don’t you dare,” said Chuuya.

            “Come on, Chuuya, we’ve danced before!” said Dazai.

            “Mackerel—”

            Dazai grabbed Chuuya’s hands and dragged him to the dance floor beside Akira and (Y/N). The women laughed and watched Chuuya be spun around by Dazai. The entire group was happy (even Chuuya). They were with people they cared about who cared about them. Valentine’s Day might have been for couples, but love was for everyone. And the entire group shared it.

Chapter Text

            “You almost ready, Dazai?” asked (Y/N) as she finished styling her hair and left the room.

            “Yep!” said Dazai cheerfully.

            (Y/N) deadpanned when she saw him. He was wearing a t-shirt, which was unusual for him, but the more immediately concerning part was the phrase “Bi and ready to die” printed on the tee. “Really, dear?”

            “What, don’t you like it?” asked Dazai brightly. “I’m ready for Pride!”

            “And for death, apparently,” sighed (Y/N).

            “Well, it would be an interesting article for the newspaper. ‘Local Bisexual Killed and was Prepared for It,’ ” he described playfully.

            “No dying at Pride, Dazai,” said (Y/N) sternly.

            Dazai sighed dramatically. “Fiiine, but only because you look so pretty that I can’t bear to look away!”

            (Y/N) turned pink. She was wearing a pink headband, a white shirt with a yellow vest overtop, and a blue skirt. With the colors combined, she was the pan flag, fitting for the occasion.

            “Thanks,” she said, still flustered by how forward Dazai was with compliments.

            Snickering at her embarrassment, Dazai held her hand and leaned forward. “Anything for you, love.” He gazed her a quick peck on the lips as someone knocked on the door.

            (Y/N) smiled. “Akira and Chuuya are here!” She hurried to the door and opened it to see her best friend and her boyfriend.

            “Great, you’re ready!” said Akira, hugging (Y/N) tightly and walking straight in. She stilled sported ripped jeans and combat boots, but today she had on a crop top with the words “Bisexual and still out of your league” emblazed in rainbow on the front. “I thought we’d be waiting forever.”

            (Y/N) laughed. “I’m never that late, Akira.”

            “Have you met your boyfriend?” teased Akira.

            “Hey!” chirped Dazai.

            “She’s right, you know,” said Chuuya, walking in after Akira. He leveled a look at Dazai. “You were always late on missions.” He had on his usual button up, vest, and harness, but the vest had a bisexual pride pin attached to it indicating his sexuality for Yokohama Pride.

            Dazai huffed and whined. “You three always gang up on me.”

            (Y/N) chuckled and kissed his cheek. “Don’t worry, dear, your tardiness doesn’t affect my love for you.”

            “Lucky me,” said Dazai teasingly.

            “You are the lucky one. Treat them right or someone will steal them~” said Akira in playful warning.

            Chuuya deadpanned. “You’re literally dating me.”

            Akira shrugged. “(Y/N)’s amazing. Besides, you can have Dazai then.”

            “Oh, well, thank you for your consideration,” said Chuuya sarcastically.

            “I’d much rather have (Y/N)!” declared Dazai.

            “Good attitude to have,” said Akira.

            Chuuya and (Y/N) sighed. Their partners were both so dramatic and got along much too easily to not cause chaos.

            “Are they flirting with you or each other?” muttered Chuuya.

            “Could be either. Watch out, they might start flirting with you,” said (Y/N) with a light chuckle.

            “They’re much more likely to insult me,” said Chuuya.

            (Y/N) laughed and smiled. “That they are. But I’m pretty sure that’s how Akira and Dazai show their love.”

            “Oh, great for us,” said Chuuya sarcastically, but still good-natured.

            “I know right? Pretty soon they’ll start dating each other and leave us to ourselves,” joked (Y/N). She clapped her hands and stepped between Akira and Dazai, somehow already planning a prank to pull on Mori if they managed to slip away during the event today.

            “Alright, you two,” said (Y/N). “Save the flirting for later, we’ve got places to be. Yosano and Ranpo are already there, and we do not want to leave those two alone for too long. Poor Poe will be overrun by them dragging him around.”

            Akira brightened. “How have Ranpo and Poe been doing?”

            “Ranpo gets all the candy and mystery stories he wants because Poe can’t say no to him,” said (Y/N) in amusement.

            Akira laughed. “Of course. Let’s get going to meet up with Akiko. I think the three of us should getting matching wlw pins since we are the complete set of lesbian, bisexual, and pansexual.” She offered her arm to (Y/N). “Shall we?”

            (Y/N) chuckled but linked her arm. “We shall.”

            Chuuya and Dazai watched Akira and (Y/N) walk off. “I think they’re the more likely ones to run away into the sunset together,” said Dazai.

            Chuuya rolled his eyes. “And leave me with you? Then I’ll be the one trying to die.”

            Dazai gasped in faux-betrayal as Chuuya walked out the door. “Chuuya! How mean!”

Chapter Text

This is in the anime, but it's rewritten because manga spoilers are coming! Please keep that in mind! -Mouse

            The world was ending.

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            “My, look at this,” said Fyodor as the doors of Mersault opened up. “A perfect starry night, befitting Dazai’s end.”

            “Goal!” cried Gogol. “Fyodor makes it to the finish line in first place! Absolutely fantastic. My very best friend, everyone! So damn awesome!”

            “Save the acclamations, please,” said Fyodor. He put his hands on his hips. “The thing.”

            Gogol swirled his cape, and a case appeared. “You mean this?” He opened it to reveal the antidote to the poison. Fyodor reached for it, but Gogol closed it. “But first! May I ask you something? Dazai was using his pulse to encode his messages to the outside. How were you communicating?”

            Fyodor smirked. “It’s simple.” He glanced behind him at the various guards walking out of Mersault. “Using them.” The guards removed their helmets to reveal they were vampires.

            “I see,” said Gogol. “You had accomplices within the Mersault security forces.” He smiled. “Now it’s yours.” He tossed the case to Fyodor.

            “Indeed.” Fyodor walked past Gogol to the helicopter.

            “Aren’t you taking the antidote?” called Gogol.

            “I’ll take it on the helicopter,” said Fyodor. He reached for the door and frowned at his injured hand. He tsked and narrowed his eyes. Dazai had actually managed to injure him. That was fine. It wouldn’t stop him from getting to (Y/N). Dazai was dead, after all.

            He glanced back. “I can’t pilot the helicopter with my injuries. Please take the stick.”

            The vampires obediently shuffled into the helicopter and started it up while Fyodor reclined in the back.

            “By the way, what became of Sigma?” asked Gogol curiously.

            “He was brave,” said Fyodor, smirking. “He’ll never awaken again, though.”

            “Those who oppose you always meet an untimely demise,” remarked Gogol. “What about you? What will you do, once you’re out of here?”

            “Just as you said,” said Fyodor. His eyes narrowed, and his smirk sharpened. “For starters, you tried to kill me, so I’ll erase you.

            Gogol grinned. “I like it! It’s the beginning of a new game.” He turned away, letting Fyodor leave.

            The case clattered to the ground.

            Gogol blinked and turned around in interest. “Oh, dear. Do you really want to be treating the antidote like that?”

            Blood dripped onto the case.

            Fyodor coughed and wheezed as the vampire in front pushed sharp baton farther into his stomach. Fyodor gripped it and tried to stop it, but the weapon was forced farther in, and blood continued to drip from the widening wound.

            “How did this happen?!” said Gogol.

            “What a shame.”

            Gogol and Fyodor’s head snapped to the entrance of Mersault. Fyodor gritted his teeth.

            “I was so close to dying. But you see…You can’t kill me.” Dazai stepped into the clear air and smiled triumphantly.

            “Dazai…” said Fyodor, forcing the frustrated word out of his mouth, even as blood choked him and he coughed. “How…”

            Dazai smirked. “Unlike you, I don’t have control over all things.” He strolled closer to the helicopter. “My hand was full of uncertain cards. But you had one weakness: You don’t trust anything you can’t manipulate. Allies. Bram took back his special ability at the airport. Ranpo negotiated with him and had him take over the vampire piloting the helicopter. It wasn’t anything we could have planned ahead of time, but I trusted that’s what Ranpo would do.”

            Fyodor’s eyes narrowed and glared with pure fury at Dazai.

            Dazai grinned at his anger. “In fact, if I had to bet, I think (Y/N) removed the sword. She always does the impossible.”

            Fyodor’s rage turned on Dazai. “But you were shot in the head!”

            Dazai grinned and touched his forehead. “Oh, this?” He shrugged. “Yeah, that hurt. That dumbass was supposed to go easy.” He smiled fondly, though.

            “Who are you calling a dumbass?” said a sharp voice.

            Fyodor’s eyes widened in true shock before he made the connection. “I see…”

            “Chuuya was never a vampire to begin with,” said Dazai.

            Chuuya flicked the contacts he’d taken from his eyes away. He cursed when the fake fangs refused to budge. “Fucking hell, it’s not coming out! Wretched boss glued it in!”

            “It was all an act,” said Dazai, walking towards the helicopter and picking up the case. “I was only able to get out of the elevator because Chuuya manipulated gravity.” He stared at Fyodor in satisfaction as the man suffered. “And then, Chuuya shoots me in the head. The bullet stops at my skull. We used to do this all the time, remember?”

            “Suck it!” shouted Chuuya grumpily, still fumbling with the teeth.

            Dazai chuckled before returning to Fyodor. “You couldn’t see how fast the bullet was traveling through the security camera. Also, the water attack was only to distract you from my actual goals, you see.”

            “You actual goal?” asked Fyodor, hands trying to stop his bleeding. It was useless.

            “That wound.” Dazai pointed victoriously at Fyodor’s injured hand. “With your hand injured, you’d have no choice but to let the vampire take the cockpit.” He leaned over Fyodor and smirked. “Remember my face, Fyodor. Remember who beat you. Remember that I sent you to Hell, and (Y/N) is out of your reach for good. She was never going to be yours. Your darkness won’t taint her light.” He stepped back, ever as Fyodor angrily reached for him lurching in his seat. “Goodbye.”

            The vampire directed the helicopter into the sky.

            “Wait!” shouted Fyodor.

            The helicopter spun and slammed into Mersault. It crashed to the ground, and Dazai, Chuuya, and Gogol watched the crumpled vehicle break apart. The engine sparked and turned to flame.

            “Ah…Angelic light…” Fyodor’s last words filtered out into the air.

            And then the helicopter exploded. Dazai watched Fyodor burn in satisfaction. Only once the flames died down did he approach, but he waited with patient satisfaction.

            “So, is that anemic jackass dead?” said Chuuya.

            Dazai picked up Fyodor’s arm, the only piece of him they could identify. “Yeah. Fyodor’s dead. There’s no doubt.”

            “I see.” Gogol walked up solemnly.

            “Congrats, Nikolai,” said Dazai. “You wanted to kill him, didn’t you?”

            “Yeah. I certainly did.” Gogol paused. “No…I didn’t. No…” He reached out and took the amputated arm. “You’re right. I never exchanged many words with Fyodor. But my life since I met him felt nothing like it did prior. Fyodor was right. I fought so I could lose myself. Now, I…” He fell to his knees.

            Dazai turned and walked away.

            “What happened to your usual snark?” said Chuuya.

            “Nah. Not today,” said Dazai. He lifted the case. “I got the antidote, too. Let’s go.” His gaze hardened. “The fight isn’t over. And I need to make sure someone is alright.” (Y/N), my light.

            “Yeah…so do I,” said Chuuya. His mind went to Akira.

            “Aw, is Chuuya going soft?” said Dazai.

            “You wish, bastard!” said Chuuya. “Let’s just keep going.”

            Dazai and Chuuya approached the helicopter touching down at Mersault. They got on, solemnly escorted by some of the Port Mafia men actually left after the vampire outbreak. Dazai opened the case and injected himself with the antidote, sighing in relief.

            “What, not excited to die?” said Chuuya, finally getting the fangs out and throwing them out the window.

            “This would have been a painful death. I’m not interested in that,” said Dazai, shrugging.

            “I can give you a death right here,” challenged Chuuya.

            “You just had the chance to kill me and didn’t! How changeable, Chuuya,” chirped Dazai.

            “Tsk. I wanted that bastard dead first,” muttered Chuuya. “He’s causing enough trouble to somehow be as irritating as you.”

            “Don’t compare me to Fyodor,” said Dazai, voice turning cold.

            Chuuya paused and narrowed his eyes. He understood his former partner better than most. “He really got under your skin, didn’t he?”

            “He threatened someone who’s truly important to me,” said Dazai. “I don’t take lightly to it.”

            Chuuya nearly shivered. He remembered that tone. That was the voice of Dazai the Demon Prodigy, the Port Mafia executive that destroyed enemy organizations like they were nothing, killing for the thrill. Fyodor should count himself lucky he got such a quick death. Chuuya suspected that if Dazai wasn’t unwilling to risk his escape, he would have made sure Fyodor properly suffered for threatening the person close to Dazai.

            “Well!” Dazai brightened and smiled. “He’s dead and burning in hell now, so that’s all the matters!”

            An irk mark appeared on Chuuya’s forehead. “Don’t go acting all giddy now! We’ve still got vampires and the Decay of the Angel on our hands!”

            “Oh, that?” Dazai waved a hand. “I mean, we’ll just be cleanup.”

            “Cleanup?! Fukuchi has his sword, bandage-wasting bastard,” hissed Chuuya.

            “So? (Y/N)’s there. And she’s more than enough to handle him,” said Dazai. Was he worried about her? Of course. He loved her, how could he not worry? “For now, let’s check on Sigma.”

            Chuuya raised a brow. “Isn’t he dead?”

            “Maybe, maybe not. But he and Dostoevsky had a talk supposedly, and I want to know what it was about,” said Dazai. If it had anything to do with (Y/N), Dazai wanted to know. She was strong, but he loved her. He couldn’t help but want to protect her.

            But fundamentally, he knew the truth of her strength—where (Y/N) had the will; she’d find a way.

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            (Y/N) landed before Fukuchi in a swirl of green light. She stood from her crouched position, gift still alive and ready for a fight as Fukuchi regarded her with surprise and a measure of expectance. He held his sword in one hand and One Order the radio in the other. (Y/N)’s eyes zeroed in on it immediately, and There’s a Will; There’s a Way hummed as it sensed the power radiating from One Order.

            “Come to die just like your companions?” said Fukuchi.

            (Y/N)’s gaze passed over Akira and Fukuzawa’s fallen figures, blood pooling beneath them. Her eyes returned to him, and she stood tall and strong as ever.

            “No. I’ve come to give the world life.”

Chapter Text

            “No. I’ve come to give the world life.”

            Fukuchi regarded (Y/N) carefully before chuckling. “Brave. Foolish, but brave.”

             He lunged, One Order safely attached to his side and headset on his head. He swung his sword out. (Y/N) let There’s a Will; There’s a Way guide her. The blade arced past (Y/N), and she dodged back, not bothering to activate her gift. The moment she landed her jump, she felt something behind her.

            (Y/N) leaned to the side, and her gift caught the tip of Fukuchi’s blade as it stabbed past her side. (Y/N) spun away, keeping There’s a Will; There’s a Way on the sword as she avoided the blade.

            Fukuchi reacted quickly as well. He had twice (Y/N)’s experience with his ability and the same intuitive knowledge on how to use it. The moment she moved, he stamped on the ground, his strength cracking the runway. Debris flew up, and (Y/N) was thrown upwards.

            Her eyes widened as she saw Fukuzawa and Akira’s bodies falling from the ruptured ground. She threw her arm out, and green light pushed Akira and Fukuzawa away from her fight with Fukuchi. Her attention divided; Fukuchi made his move. Several stabs of his sword struck through portals.

            (Y/N) cried out as the blade slashed through her legs and arms. She landed roughly on the ground, rolling to a stop. (Y/N) gritted her teeth and forced herself to stand. She faced Fukuchi with the same focus on her face that she’d had at the beginning.

            “You can’t win,” said Fukuchi coldly. “This is a losing battle.”

            “I haven’t lost yet,” said (Y/N) matter-of-factly.

            “You’re bleeding, barely able to stand.” Fukuchi tilted his head. “I have mere scratches.”

            (Y/N) smirked. “Scratches? I’ve sparred Akira. I know that you’re fighting through pain every time you raise your arm.”

            “Your condition is still worse,” said Fukuchi, brandishing his sword. “And you can’t tear One Order from me because of my gift.” His gaze hardened. “I see you looking at it, but the moment your hand moves, my sword will rip through you.”

            (Y/N)’s eyes narrowed. “I can handle pain.”

            “But you cannot kill,” said Fukuchi.

            (Y/N) was silent. It was true. She didn’t kill.

            “How do you expect to win a war without casualties?” Fukuchi’s wrist twitched.

            (Y/N) barely dodged the next stab, shifting just enough to keep from the sword slicing her side. It slid into her leg, and she went to her knee with a cry.

            Fukuchi jerked his arm again, and several more portals appeared around (Y/N). Green light caught them, holding them back as Fukuchi pushed his ability into his sword and strained against (Y/N)’s gift. The pair glared at each other before Fukuchi chuckled. The swords pulled back from the portals, and (Y/N)’s body nearly went limp at the sudden loss of pressure. She caught herself on her arms, struggling to sit upright as her wounds ache.

            “Why keep fighting when you know you can’t win?” said Fukuchi, gazing at Green’s struggles colly.

            Blood stained her white undershirt; her black vest and skirt were torn up. But while her clothes and body were cut open and breaking at the seams, her spirit was not. The pure will in (Y/N)’s eyes remained an undimming light against Fukuchi’s darkness.

            “Because I can’t stand by and let you hurt people who can’t protect themselves,” said (Y/N). Despite her wounds, her voice didn’t shake. She was firm and strong as she spoke.

            “Once I am finished, no one else has to suffer,” said Fukuchi, gripping his sword tightly. “When the world powers bow to me, there will be no more war. The world will finally be at peace.”

            (Y/N) stared at him, brow furrowed. “You call intimidation and fear peace?” Her gaze softened. “War really did break your spirit.” Green light appeared around her, and she rose from the ground. “But I still can’t let you take control of the world. That isn’t peace. It’s control.”

            “How many people clamor for peace and refuge from war every day?” said Fukuchi. “I’m simply answering their call.”

            “People want freedom from war. They need freedom.” The shine around (Y/N) sharpened in clarity. “And I won’t let you take that from anyone else.”

            “How? By talking to me? You still can’t kill me.” Fukuchi’s gaze was dark, telling of all the horrors of war he’d witnessed over the years. “You have no idea how to fight a battle such as this. You fight alone and without the heart to do what’s needed.”

            “I think I understand the battle I’m fighting more than you do,” said (Y/N). She smiled. “And I don’t fight alone.”

            A blur of red landed on Fukuchi, claws sinking into flesh and drawing blood. Akira was exhausted and bleeding out, but she was with (Y/N) until the end. Fukuchi turned and grabbed her over his shoulder. His brow furrowed at the slight green glow around Akira’s body hidden below the red. But he didn’t hesitate to throw her down onto the runway and stab down.

            The blade stopped within an inch of Akira as (Y/N)’s gift reacted, and the raven-haired woman rolled to her feet at (Y/N)’s side.

            “Fighting until your deaths,” said Fukuchi, observing the pair.

            “And until yours,” said Akira sharply. “(Y/N) might not kill, but I do.”

            Fukuchi stared at them and then began chuckling. “This is quite the coincidence. The daughters of first two women to defy my plan for peace here to stand against me.”

            Akira and (Y/N) glanced at each other questioningly.

            “Akira and (Y/N). The daughters of Nanako Mori and (M/N) (L/N),” said Fukuchi. He sighed. “It’s a pity I had to kill them.”

            (Y/N) sucked in a breath, and her eyes widened. Akira reached out a hand and steadied her.

            Fukuzawa’s eyes widened, and he tried to pull himself up. “You killed (M/N)? You said she left you.”

            Fukuchi sighed as if exhausted. “She told Nanako that she suspected I was planning something. While Nanako battled me, (M/N) escaped with my daughter.” (Y/N) started, and Akira steadied her again. “I found (M/N), but she refused to tell me where my daughter was, and she knew too much.”

            “You infected her with someone’s ability…” said (Y/N). “You killed my mother…” Her heart clenched painfully. “And that makes you…”

            “Your father,” said Fukuchi. “It took me a moment to realize, but then I saw your gift. I turn what I touch into a weapon. You turn what you see into a weapon.” He sighed. “A pity you insist on standing against me like your mother.”

            Fukuzawa stared at Fukuchi. He had already been shocked to discover Fukuchi was beyond the Decay of the Angel. And now to know Fukuchi had killed Nanako, killed his own wife? Fukuzawa didn’t know who Fukuchi was any longer.

            (Y/N) clenched her fist and pushed off of Akira as her friend glanced at her worriedly. “Yes. I stand against you.” She swallowed hard. “You might be my father, but that doesn’t change the fact that what you’re doing is wrong.” Her gaze hardened, and There’s a Will; There’s a Way activated. “You’ve hurt too many people to get away with it.” (Y/N)’s heart was in pain over the knowledge that the terrible man in front of her was not only her father but had killed her mom. But.

            But (Y/N) refused to back down. This was just another reason to defeat Fukuchi. He’d killed so many and gotten away with it over the years, and now he was going to try to control the world. (Y/N) couldn’t let it continue. Not on her mother’s honor.

            “Well, then, you might be my daughter, but I won’t hold back,” said Fukuchi.

            (Y/N) narrowed her eyes. “We’ll defeat you all the same.” She smiled at Akira. “Right?”

            Akira smirked. “Well, apparently we’re our mothers’ daughters. So let’s kick this guy’s ass.”

            (Y/N) smiled, and the glow around her brightened. The slight green of Akira’s aura deepened. (Y/N)’s will was spreading out over the battlefield. And as her heart set its sight on victory with the revelations, she only grew stronger.

            Fukuchi raised his sword and swung. (Y/N) and Akira split, and (Y/N) held up her hands, blocking the sword from stabbing either of them. Fukuchi pivoted, drew a dagger, and threw it at (Y/N). The speed was formidable, but her ability activated at the last moment. Unfortunately, her focus broke, and the tip of his sword broke through multiple portals and stabbed into Akira’s side again.

            Akira pulled away, coughing up blood. Her multiple injuries were still plaguing her, and she stumbled to her knees. (Y/N) pushed her out of the way with her gift as more swords appeared, and at the same moment, she was stabbed. She coughed and stumbled. Both women were badly injured, but Fukuchi was standing straight, almost unaffected by the previous attacks.

            (Y/N) looked to Akira, and the red-eyed woman nodded. The looks in their eyes were identical. Do whatever it takes.

            They moved as one, nearly reading each other’s minds. Akira darted forward. Swords struck at her, embedding into her skin, but she ripped away and lunged at Fukuchi. His eyes widened in surprise before narrowing, and he stabbed directly into her stomach.

            Akira grinned viciously through the blood and pain. And she grabbed his hand and forced the sword in deeper. Fukuchi tried to pull away, but Akira refused to let him go. He was trapped with the demonic woman impaled on his sword. No, not with. By. Akira had him trapped even if she was the one bleeding. Her eyes were completely black, and her horns curled demonically up into the air. She looked every bit the devil she was. This was Mori’s daughter.

            The moment Fukuchi’s eyes at the realization that this was a woman that refused to go down without taking him with her, (Y/N) moved. There was no need for her and Akira to communicate. They understood each other perfectly.

            (Y/N) lunged for Fukuchi, and he pivoted, dragging Akira with him. But movement didn’t change what (Y/N) could do. Bright green light zeroed in on One Order, and unlike earlier, Fukuchi couldn’t stab (Y/N). He couldn’t stop her.

            Fukuchi let go of his sword in desperation and reached for One Order, clutching it to him. His strength was formidable.

            “There’s a Will; There’s a Way!”

            One Order burst free of Fukuchi as (Y/N)’s gift glowed with pure power. (Y/N) landed her jump, One Order in hand.

            “No!” roared Fukuchi, lunging for her.

            “All units! Cease your attack!”

            (Y/N)’s voice intertwined with her Gift, her ability to control the world around her.

            And the world listened.

            One Order came alive as it responded to (Y/N), and the machines of war came to a standstill around the globe. Armies surrendered and retreated. Bombs disarmed and dropped into the ocean.

            “No, no, no!” Fukuchi pivoted and redirected his movement.

            “Akira!” shouted (Y/N).

            Akira pulled the katana from her stomach before Fukuchi could reach for it and attack in the past to stop (Y/N). She shifted her position and lunged. Fukuchi blinked, and for a moment, he could see only (M/N) standing powerful in her knowledge and Nanako ready to attack. And then he blinked again, and it was (Y/N) standing victorious and Akira lunging.

            Ah. What was it Nanako said? Be Not Afraid…

            Shick.

            Fukuchi coughed up blood as his sword sunk through his stomach. He reached for the handle, and Akira twisted viciously.

            “That’s for our mothers,” she hissed. She ripped the blade from him.

            Fukuchi stumbled back, clutching his wound. He fell back, and his eyes went up to the setting sun above. He coughed. “So…this is my end.”

            Fukuzawa pulled himself to his feet and limped to Fukuchi’s side. (Y/N) joined him, Akira by her side, letting the bloody sword fall to her feet. It wasn’t as if Fukuchi could grab it, now. He couldn’t move.

            “I wanted peace,” he murmured.

            (Y/N)’s grip on One Order tightened. “This wouldn’t have brought peace.”

            Fukuchi chuckled, and blood trickled down the side of his mouth. “And yet one person has mastered One Order. Almost poetic that my own daughter would take it and be unwilling to use it, unwilling to even kill.”

            “I’m not you,” said (Y/N).

            “No. You’re not,” said Fukuchi. He sighed. “You don’t—” he coughed “—understand how much pain the world will put you through.”

            “Maybe.” (Y/N) smiled. “But I won’t go through it alone. And that makes all the difference.” She knelt, reached out, and touched Fukuchi’s shoulder. She neither forgave nor accepted him as her father. But she would extend kindness. “You wanted peace. I’m sorry that you lost your way to it.”

            A soft green glow coursed over Fukuchi, and he let out a soft breath. His eyes closed. His chest stilled. (Y/N) removed her hand and stood up, quiet and graceful.

            Akira watched her. An angel of mercy.

            (Y/N) turned and faced her. A gentle smile appeared. “We did it.” Tiredness entered her voice.

            “Yeah. We did.” Akira returned the smile.

            And they both collapsed in exhaustion. Blood that stained their clothes dripped to the ground below. Unbidden, they reached out to each other, and their hands linked.

            Together until the end. Sisters in everything but blood.

Chapter Text

MANGA SPOILERS PLEASE LISTEN TO ME

           Thump!

            Sigma’s limp body hit the ground, and Chuuya shrugged.

            “Nothing,” he said.

            “Huh. Maybe he’s just sleep deprived?” said Dazai, obviously not serious.

            Chuuya rolled his eyes. “You’d think that would keep him zonked after being dropped fifteen times? If that is the case, we should just let the poor bastard get some shut-eye.

            “I really wanted to know what he and Dostoevsky chatted about,” said Dazai.

            “Maybe he’s being forced asleep by an ability?” suggested Chuuya.

            “If that were the case, he’d have woken up the second I touched him,” said Dazai.

            “Just quit your worrying,” said Chuuya. “That anemic son of a bitch kicked the bucket. You saw it with your own eyes.”

            “You’re right.” Dazai furrowed his brow. “I just don’t get it. Why hasn’t he woken up yet?” It disquieted him. He had ensured Fyodor died, but…something felt off. Fyodor had been angry and caught off guard, but that was nearly impossible. Dazai had beaten him, but what if he had failsafe? What if there was something more going on?

            He flopped to the ground and rolled around in frustration, thinking it over. If he had overlooked something—a rare occurrence but possible against a man as intelligent as him—then (Y/N) would once again be in danger, and Dazai couldn’t let that happen.

            “Quit that habit of rolling all over the ground whenever you’re worrying,” said Chuuya. “It’s annoying to look at, Dazai. What are you still brooding over? Sure, we don’t know why Sigma won’t wake up—”

            Dazai paused. “I know exactly why he isn’t waking up.”

            “Huh?” Chuuya furrowed his brow.

            “He’s overloaded with information,” said Dazai. “After taking in an excessive amount of memory data in through an ability, one loses consciousness, as to give their brain time to sort through it all. I was told something similar happened to (Y/N).” He frowned as he continued to go through his own thoughts. “Could that mean Dostoevsky purposefully let Sigma read his memories? Now just why would he—” He froze. His eyes widened. He sat up. Wild panic flew through his mind.

            “In order to mask his ability?” said Dazai, breathless. “It’s possible the ability the ability he showed off at the end of the “Mutual Destruction” incident and threatened (Y/N) with was a fake. He likely prepared one of Hawthorne’s blood bullets beforehand then transferred the blood to the soldier he touched, destroying him from the inside.

            “However, that just made us cautious of the possibility of his ability’s activation condition being ‘touch.’ That’s exactly why my plan was all distanced. Hence, taking out the helicopter all in order to defeat him without making direct contact. If that’s not the case, what’s the real activation condition?” Dazai searched through every interaction with Fyodor and arrived at the helicopter. He remembered Fyodor final words as the helicopter fell towards him.

            Angelic light.

            Dazai's eyes widened in horror. Fyodor had smiled as he spoke.

            He jumped to his feet and ran for the exit.

            “Wha—? Hey, where are you going, dumbass?!” shouted Chuuya. Dazai hadn’t explained anything.

            “We have to check Dostoevsky’s corpse!” said Dazai, more alarmed than Chuuya had ever seen him.

            A shiver ran down Chuuya’s spine, and he ran out after Dazai. Before he had a chance to lift the helicopter with his ability, Dazai had pushed rubble aside and found the corpse proper—one arm missing, just as before. Dazai grabbed the other arm and pulled the body out.

            Chuuya just squatted and watched. “Now here’s a rare sight. It’s not often I get to see you sweat.” He looked at the body. “There you have it. He bit the dust. Hard.”

            “Is that so?” Dazai pushed the body over, and his heart dropped. “Then who the hell is this?” It was not Fyodor’s face that stared unseeing at the sky.

            Everything fell into horrible place.

            “During the prison break race, Dostoevsky was frantic. He was frantic because death at my hand or by poison wouldn’t do it. What he needed was to be killed by a vampire.” Dazai narrowed his eyes.

            “Huh?” said Chuuya, eyes widened.

            “I get it now. His entire plan. It all leads to…the worst possible scenario.” And Dazai had allowed it to happen. He had put everything he cared about, the world, (Y/N) in harm’s way. He jumped to his feet. “I have to tell Ranpo immediately!”

            “Hey, hold it, explain!” said Chuuya, following him.

            “His ability’s activation condition! It isn’t touch!” shouted Dazai as he ran. “Dostoevsky’s ability, it activates when he’s killed!”

            “The hell’s that supposed to mean? Speak Japanese, please!” snapped Chuuya.

            “A vampire killed Dostoevsky!  But he didn’t do it of his own volition!” Dazai’s eyes were wide open as he ran. “He was just a puppet being controlled. Nothing but his fingertip. The vampire piloting the helicopter was just the same as a gun or blade. Nothing but a tool. The one with the intent, the one who actually killed Dostoevsky…was Bram Stoker!”

            The man horribly close to (Y/N).

            “The reason his corpse turned into a different person, the reason he docilely submitted to being locked away across the world, there’s only one explanation!” said Dazai. “Dostoevsky’s ability is to subsume the person that killed as ‘the next Dostoevsky!’ ”

            Dazai had led Fyodor right to (Y/N), the woman he loved.

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            (Y/N) and Akira lay on the ground, unconscious. Slowly, Akira managed to raise her head, holding her wounds tightly as she bled. She groaned and looked around to analyze the current situation. Fukuchi was sitting and stared at the body of his friend-turned-fanatical-villain, Fukuchi. (Y/N) was groaning and blinking her eyes open in an attempt to regain consciousness after the battle. Behind them, Bram had arrived on the airport runway with Aya at his side. He gazed at Fukuchi.

            “My archenemy—” He groaned and stumbled. “I see…”

            “What’s the matter, Bra-chan?” asked Aya.

            “My princess,” said Bram. He turned and pushed her back in alarm. “Run far from here!” He cried out and grabbed his face as his skin split open. Like a snake shedding its scales, Bram’s skin and hair fell away to reveal anemically-pale skin like that of the vampire’s, but now black hair fell from his head. (Y/N)’s eyes widened as sharp, cruel eyes blinked open.

            Fyodor stood before the group with a smirk. His gaze instantly leveled on (Y/N). “Why, good morning, Angel,” he said.

            Fukuzawa grabbed his sword, but Fyodor drew the sword that had once been implanted in Bram and pointed it at Akira. “I’d advise you not to move. I won’t hesitate to kill her.”

            “Fuck you,” sneered Akira. “Do it.”

            “No—” (Y/N) coughed and tasted the iron tang of blood in her mouth.

            “I suppose it doesn’t much matter what you decide,” said Fyodor, shifting his foot towards Fukuchi’s body.

            “Stop him—”

            (Y/N)’s warning was too late, and before Fukuzawa could decide to attack—not that he would allow Akira to die, he wouldn’t even kill Fukuchi himself, which Fyodor had used to his advantage—Fyodor kicked Fukuchi’s sword into his hand.

            “I do apologize for the following discomfort, Angel. But it is for your own good,” said Fyodor with the disgustingly possessive look in his eyes. He flipped the swords around in his hands.

            “Stop him!” shouted Ranpo, running across the airport. “Don’t let Dostoevsky stab her with that blade!”

            Fyodor smirked and struck. (Y/N) let out a cry as both swords hit her, and a green light welled up from the wound. Fyodor watched with immense satisfaction.

            “In my right, the Divine Blade, Ame-no-Gozen. In my left, the Holy Sword, Soluz Levni.” Fyodor watched the light grow to a blinding brightness. “Two heavenly blades and an angelic being bring froth unto this land, a miracle.”

            Ranpo ran forward, helpless to stop what Fyodor had begun. He had brought three “extremes” together—the space-time sword, said to have a god dwelling within it, the forced combination of ability and body, the Holy Cross Sword, and the ability to control and strength all that the holder surveys, There’s a Will; There’s a Way.

            They united, and the power unleashed bathed the world in energy they could not overcome. Akira let out a cry for her best friend, her sister, but she could not see (Y/N) through the green light. The force of the energy shoved her back. Fukuzawa grabbed her and Aya and held them as the light rushed over them.

            The tripolar singularity was unleashed.

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            (Y/N) felt pure energy coursing through her, and the edges of her vision darkened. In fact, her thoughts seemed to be fleeing her. She was growing smaller, smaller, smaller…

            Within (Y/N), something twisted and twisted until it broke. (Y/N)’s eyes closed, and amidst all the light, darkness swallowed them whole.

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            The light faded, and Akira, Aya, and Fukuzawa raised their heads. Their eyes widened. A crater stood where (Y/N) had lain. Torii—gates—stood around the crater, and green energy still sparked out within it.

            “Now, would you look at that. Spectacular,” said Fyodor, standing at the edge of the crater.

            “What the hell did you do?” snapped Akira, trying to move forward, but the injuries were still too much and hadn’t healed. “Where’s (Y/N)?! How the hell are you here?!”

            “Bram Stoker is dead,” said Fyodor with a smirk. “And I endured quite the hardship to obtain the echoes of him in death.” He lifted his hand to reveal One Order.

            “No—” Fukuzawa’s eyes widened.

            “Yes,” said Fyodor. “ ‘One Order.’ A weapon allowing its wielder to control all of their subordinates as they please. This body belongs—or, well, belonged—to Bram Stoker, the King of the Vampires. If I were to use One Order within this body, who would I be able to control?”

            Aya’s eyes widened. “You’d be able to control all of the vampires across the world…?”

            “That’s what all this was for?!” snapped Akira. “The Decay of the Angel, Fukuchi, all of it—you just wanted to take over the world like any common fucking villain?”

            Fyodor smirked. “I am hardly common.”

            Behind him, a beacon of light erupted from the crater. They watched it arc up before floating down to stand behind Fyodor. The light faded to reveal a figure. Fukuzawa’s eyes widened, and Akira’s lungs constricted into a horrified gasp.

            It was (Y/N). Her gaze was empty, and she wore a long, white kimono. As it fluttered around her in the wind, the light hit it to reveal a green shine. A veil floated over here yes with three dots on it. The sword at her side glinted dangerously in the light. (Y/N) looked divine and dangerous.

            “(Y/N),” breathed Akira, heartbroken.

            “Not quite,” said Fyodor. “This is a divine being, far being your…mortal existence.” He gazed adoringly at (Y/N), and Akira was disgusted. “With the Holy Cross sword’s power to combine ability and body, a tripartite fusion occurred between (Y/N) (L/N), the Divine Blade Ame-no-Gozen, and the Holy Sword itself. Then, (Y/N)’s ability combined with Ame-no-Gozen, her gift strengthened by the sword in turn giving it strength, letting hundredfold elevation of power approach infinity. The abilities gave way to a singularity. (Y/N)—an angel trapped in a mortal body—can now become who she was meant to be. She possesses truly godlike power.” Fyodor raised his hand to show a black mark on his palm. “And a goddess answers her devout follower’s prayers.” He smiled with a worshipful expression, but it was a mask in front of his cruelty and manipulation. “With the seal of the Holy Sword, she will answer my call and my call alone.”

            Fyodor took a knee and held (Y/N)’s hand reverently in his hand. He kissed the back gently before looking up at (Y/N). “My lady, my angel, my goddess of order and justice. Mine.”

Chapter Text

            “Happy Halloween, everyone!” greeted (Y/N) as more people walked into her apartment—and Dazai’s at this point (they had basically moved in together at this point).

            “Happy Halloween,” said Atsushi, smiling. He had dressed up as a werecat, and Akutagawa stood beside him in a priest costume.

            (Y/N) smiled at both. She had stopped thinking it strange that Akutagawa always accompanied Atsushi to these sorts of things. Honestly, they came as a pair these days.

            “You look really nice,” said Atsushi.

            (Y/N) smiled. “Thank you.” She was a fairy, complete with the flowery green dress and the crystallized wings attached to her back.

            “She always looks nice,” said Dazai, appearing behind (Y/N) and throwing his arms around her.

            (Y/N) smiled and covered his hands with her own to complete the hug even with him behind her. Dazai had on long blue and purple robes—a wizard. (He had to go as something magical to fit with (Y/N), after all).

            “Thank you, my dear,” said (Y/N), turning their head and kissing his cheek.

            Dazai grinned widely, proud of getting the affection.

            “Hi, Dazai,” said Atsushi, smiling.

            “Hello, Dazai,” said Akutagawa.

            “Hey, Atsushi,” said Dazai.

            (Y/N) frowned and pinched his hand.

            “Hello, Akutagawa,” said Dazai. He pouted at (Y/N), but she just raised a brow. When she was around, Dazai wasn’t allowed to play his games with Akutagawa when the boy tired to get his attention.

            Akutagawa brightened at being acknowledged.

            “You two can help yourselves to any candy or drinks you want,” said (Y/N). “We’ve got music, too, but I don’t know if you guys like dancing that much.”

            “Thank you,” said Atsushi, smiling.

            “Yes, thank you, Miss (Y/N),” said Akutagawa. He didn’t want to be rude to Dazai’s girlfriend.

            “Of course,” said (Y/N). “And just call me (Y/N), Akutagawa.” She watched the two boys walk farther into the apartment. “I wonder what’s going on with them. They’ve gotten close.”

            “They’re like Chuuya and I, a talented fighting force,” said Dazai, shrugging.

            “Uhuh, so they’re definitely…into one another?” said (Y/N). “Like you and Chuuya?”

            “…I never told you that,” said Dazai.

            “Everyone who meets you knows you two at least had some messy feelings,” teased (Y/N).

            “You don’t care?” said Dazai.

            “You’re not the type to cheat, so no,” said (Y/N). “Plus, Chuuya is cute.”

            “Hey,” whined Dazai.

            (Y/N) laughed. “I can say that about Akira, who Chuuya is interested in, and you have to agree with that.”

            “Fair enough,” sighed Dazai. He paused. “You and Akira—”

            “We definitely had a moment, but it was more just fun. We’re not interested in each other in that way,” said (Y/N). “You know that.” She laughed. “At this point, you and Akira need to kiss, and Chuuya and I need to kiss, and then we’ve completed the square.”

            “You’re spending too much time with Akira,” said Dazai, chuckling. “That sounds like her idea.”

            “There’s a reason we get along,” said (Y/N), turning around in his arms. She nodded to the kitchen. “But you don’t need to worry, look over there.”

            Dazai glanced over and grinned.

            Chuuya, dressed as a werewolf, stood with Akira, dressed as a vampire. Chuuya was trying desperately not to look at the cleavage showing in her low-cut dress, but with Akira in heels, Chuuya’s…shorter stature meant his eye-level was precisely there.

            “They’re still working things out?” said Dazai.

            “If that means not communicating feelings but flirting incessantly whenever they’re near each other, then yes,” laughed (Y/N). “But neither is like that with anyone else, so it’s pretty clearly a relationship to everyone else, if a bit messy.”

            “I’m going to hold this over his head,” said Dazai, grinning.

            “I’ve still told you no,” said (Y/N).

            “But it would be so much fun,” said Dazai.

            “You have enough on Chuuya already, I’m sure,” teased (Y/N).

            “Fair enough,” said Dazai, grinning. “I’m assuming you also have things on Akira since you’re so close?”

            “Oh, yeah,” said (Y/N). “I know way too much about her.” She laughed. “But she knows the same amount about me.”

            “Anything scandalous?” said Dazai, smirking.

            “How dare you ask me that?” said (Y/N), pretending to gasp. “I’m a lady.”

            “I’m sure,” said Dazai, his hands dropping to her waist. “But you’re my lady.”

            “Am I?” said (Y/N), smiling.

            “Of course,” said Dazai. “You’re mine, and I’m yours.”

            “I like that trade,” said (Y/N), smiling.

            “I do, too.” Dazai leaned in and kissed her.

            (Y/N) let him drag her closer and kissed him return. “I love you,” she whispered against his lips.

            “I love you, too,” said Dazai.

            These were the moments that mattered the most—the small ones. The domestic ones. The times where (Y/N) and Dazai were just together and happy with their family and friends around them.

Chapter Text

            “Your snowman is as short as you, Chuuya!” said Dazai.

            “Shut up, Mackerel,” said Chuuya. He summoned his ability, and the Dazai’s snowman crumbled with gravity.

            “Hey!” whined Dazai.

            “Leave him alone,” said (Y/N). “Just like the cherry blossoms, they can be at the park during the winter.”

            “You’re so nice,” sighed Dazai.

            “Hey, why do we like her?” said Akira from where she was making a snowman with (Y/N).

            “I thought for my good looks and charm,” joked (Y/N).

            “You definitely have a lot of that,” said Dazai, kissing their cheek.

            “Ew,” said Chuuya.

            Dazai flipped him off.

            Over to the side, Atsushi sighed. Akutagawa hit Atsushi.

            “Focus!” said Akutagawa. If Dazai was making a snowman, so would he.

            “Don’t hit Atsushi,” scolded Yosano.

            “They’re just having fun,” said Jun’ichiro, smiling with Naomi.

            “Why are we fraternizing with the Port Mafia?” said Kunikida.

            “Because we’re just here to enjoy the snow, too,” said Hirotsu.

            “Right,” said Higuchi, smiling.

            From beside her, Tachihara sweat-dropped. “Not that there is a lot of enjoyment…”

            Chuuya and Dazai were squabbling again.

            “(Y/N) will handle it,” said Yosano.

            “The nice one?” said Higuchi.

            “Is that what she’s known as?” said Kunikida, sighing.

            Gin shrugged.

            “She’s tougher than she looks,” said Yosano, smiling.

            “Hey, Akutagawa~ Look over her!” said Dazai.

            “Yes, Dazai?” said Akutagawa, snapping to attention.

            Whoof!

            A snowball hit him in the face, and Dazai laughed out loud.

            Whap!

            A snowball hit Dazai’s face, and he had a comically shocked expression. Akira cackled happily. Akutagawa swiftly grabbed snow to hit her, and Atushi was balling snow next.

            “Oh, dear,” said Hirotsu and Kunikida simultaneously.

            Within moments, the entire park and all of the ADA and Port Mafia were engaged in a giant snowball fight. Atsushi and Akutagawa were throwing snowballs at Akira and Dazai (strange team ups, but that was the truth). Yosano, Higuchi, Naomi, and Gin were whipping up snowballs faster than most people could think and throwing them at whoever they spotted. In a defensive move, Jun’ichiro and Tachihara moved together to hide from their sisters and friends. (Kouyou just grabbed Kyouka to remove her from the line of fire).

            “Hey, (Y/N), want to step in on this chaos?” said Kunikida.

            (Y/N) looked at him, back at the park, and back at him. She grinned.

            “Oh no,” said Kunikida.

            “Not stepping in?” said Hirotsu.

            “She is not,” sighed Kunikida.

            “Chuuya, what do you say to teaming up?” said (Y/N).

            Chuuya considered for just a moment before grinning. “Sounds like a plan.”

            (Y/N) and Chuuya looked at the crowd. Green and red glows appeared around them as There’s a Will; There’s a Way and Upon the Tainted Sorrow activated. A giant barrage of snowballs formed through their abilities.

            “Three…two…one,” said (Y/N).

            “Go,” said Chuuya.

            They threw out their hands, and snowballs attacked the rest of the teams, who yelped at the new attacks and dove for cover.

            “Traitor!” cried Dazai, receiving a snowball to the face.

            (Y/N) laughed. “Just strategic!”

            “I’ll cover you, take her down!” said Akira. “Then I’ll get Chuuya.”

            “Try me!” said Chuuya, grabbing another snowball. Akira dodged the next throw, scooped up snow, and pitched it at (Y/N).

            (Y/N) ducked, and Dazai tackled her. They landed in the snow, and (Y/N) laughed as Dazai smothered her with snow. She flipped them over, but Dazai kept a tight hold of her waist, and they rolled down a hill of snow together. Dazai chuckled as he hugged her.

            “You’re not getting away from me!” he said.

            “I’m still winning this,” said (Y/N), grabbing snow and pushing it into his face.

            Dazai spluttered but smirked. Pulling (Y/N) in, he kissed her.

            “Ah, your lips are cold!” said (Y/N), pulling back.

            “Aha, a weakness,” said Dazai.

            (Y/N) chuckled and pulled him in. “I’ll just warm them up.”

            “Tease,” said Dazai.

            “You love me,” said (Y/N).

            “I do,” said Dazai, gazing at her adoringly.

            (Y/N) smiled and promptly shoved a handful of snow into his face again. Dazai blankly stared as she wiggled out from under him and laughed.

            “I win!”

            Dazai gazed up at her with a soft smile. Yes. My heart. Every time.

Chapter Text

Manga Spoilers :)

            Fyodor rose from his knees, lips lingering on the back of (Y/N)’s hand. Her expression barely changed, the cold green glow of her gaze not leaving his.

            Akira held Aya behind her, fists clenched upon seeing (Y/N) treated like a possession by that religious zealot. “Get away from her,” snapped Akira.

            “No, I don’t believe I will.” Fyodor glanced at Akira. “She is, after all, my angel. I gave her her true, divine form. Why should I leave her side now, after all I did to get her?”

            “…” Akira’s eyes flashed black.

            “This was your true objective.” Fukuzawa spoke with a voice that fought not to tremble. “You incited Gen’ichiro and caused the Decay of the Angels incident. You used the vampires, you used the United Nations, you even used the world war sixty years from now…”

            “ ‘World war sixty years from now?’ ” Fyodor smirked. “You still believe that? That was all a lie you thought up.”

            Aya’s eyes widened, and Akira gritted her teeth. Of course it was.

            Fukuzawa’s eyes widened. “What…did you just say?” His voice was hoarse at the revelation. “But Gen’ichiro himself received word of war from the prediction through Ame-no-Gozen.”

            Fyodor’s smirk was sharp and cruel at just how easy it had been to manipulate everyone. “Meddling with Ame-no-Gozen’s prophecy was a simple task. The blade can only span ten seconds or so each use. It would take countless time jumps to transmit information thirty-six years into the past. Which means there would be no way to confirm whether the first message was real or not. All I did was scribble a convincing enough fake into the wall. That’s all.

            “Having seen that, Fukuchi sent the ‘prophecy’ further into the past,’ ” he continued. “There was no longer any way to distinguish the real from the fake.”

            “Gen’ichiro’s fight…His wishes for peace…From the very start, it was all—” Fukuzawa almost couldn’t bear to finish the statement.

            “Precisely.” Fyodor gazed down at Fukuzawa with perfect indifference. “A charade.”

            A thousand thoughts flew through Fukuzawa’s mind. He can’t. This can’t have been in vain. His death can’t have been for nothing. He’ll burn for this! Fukuzawa’s eyes narrowed on Fyodor, and he grabbed his katana. In a moment, he lunged for Fyodor.

            “Wait!” said Akira, never one to try to stop violence, but Aya was in harm’s way, and (Y/N) wasn’t herself, and Fyodor had all the power.

            “Angel?” said Fyodor, perfectly calm. “You are now to bring order as you please. Kill all who bring chaos to our world.”

            (Y/N) raised her sword, and a green glow surrounded it. She flicked her wrist and swept the sword out. The green glow grew to giant proportions above the ground. The blade of green light blotted out all other light.

            “(Y/N), please, don’t—”

            The blade slashed through the whole airport before Akira could finished speaking. The entire world exploded with destruction around her. She, Fukuzawa, and Aya cowered as buildings caved down around them. As bits of machinery broke, explosions rocked the air. The three people facing (Y/N) and Fyodor were sent flying.

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            “Mr. President! Miss Akira!”

            Akira opened her eyes as Atsushi’s voice pierced her consciousness. He was lifting debris from where it had fallen around Fukuzawa and Akira.

            “Can you get out of there?” he said worriedly as he pushed the rocks and slabs of building away.

            “We can.” Akira hauled herself up and supported Fukuzawa, his eyes still downcast. She leaned him against a rock and sat down, equally exhausted. I hope the girl escape alive…

            “Where’s (Y/N)?” asked Atsushi. Akira’s fists clenched, and Atsushi’s eyes widened in fear. “No, she’s not—”

            “I don’t know,” said Akira, voice breaking on the words. “Fyodor did something to her, made her into some sort of Divine Being he can control…We played right into his plans.

            “What?” Atsushi’s horror was written all over his face. Everything they’d done, all the lives already lost, had been for nothing? It was just part of Fyodor getting where he wanted to be.

            “What’s the status of the airport?” Fukuzawa spoke quietly.

            “As far as I can see, it’s all been demolished,” admitted Atsushi. “Our comms are out, too. The equipment was probably taken out in the destruction.”

            “Here are your orders,” said Fukuzawa.

            “Yes, sir,” said Atsushi.

            “This goes for you, too, Akira,” said Fukuzawa.

            Akira glanced at him, remaining silent.

            “Run.” Fukuzawa said the word firmly, with true emphasis. “Get somewhere safe as fast as you can. The gates of hell have opened here. Staying brings our chances of survival to zero. Tell the others. You are to retreat. No matter what, do not fight the Divine Being.”

            Not (Y/N). The Divine Being. She wouldn’t hurt us, thought Akira, clenching her fists.

            “However…Dostoevsky, he alone must pay,” said Fukuzawa forcefully. “Undoubtedly, he’s currently headed towards the concealed M1 Hangar. He’s likely attempting to obtain an ultra-highspeed aircraft designated for high-ranking officials. With the stealth provided by a vehicle like that, he’d be utterly undetectable. If he’s able to escape, it’s game over. Dostoevsky will disappear into a darkness unreachable. Then, in some dark, unknown corner of the sky, he’ll use half of the earth to drag our world into a nightmare from which there will be no waking up.”

            “And he’ll still have (Y/N) in his grasp,” said Akira. She stood. “We have to go after him.”

            Fukuzawa nodded with equal somberness. “Don’t let him take off. These are your final orders!”

            “Yes, sir!” Atsushi took off.

            Akira stepped to follow him.

            “Akira.”

            She turned to face Fukuzawa as he spoke.

            “Thank you for risking your life,” he said.

            “Anything for (Y/N),” said Akira.

            Fukuzawa smiled slightly. “You’re much more like your mother than you know.”

            “Not my father?” said Akira wryly.

            “No. Not your father.”

            Akira turned and ran off to follow Atsushi with a bit more strength than she’d previously had.

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            “So, what’s our plan?” said Akira, following Atsushi.

            He jumped as she caught up. “I found one of the tools we hid.”

            “The flare gun,” said Akira, looking at it.

            “I need the Agency to meet up,” said Atsushi. “If we meet up, we can do anything.” He fired the flare. It shone in the air, and Akira and Atsushi watched it fade.

            Bang!

            Another flare went up from farther away towards the city.

            “There they are!” said Atsushi.

            Bang!

            A second flare shone like fire in the air. Atsushi’s eyes widened.

            “What do two flares mean?” said Akira, narrowing her eyes.

            “A need for emergency backup,” breathed Atsushi.

            “Fyodor,” said Akira. “He’s there with the Divine Being.” He’s not letting (Y/N) go. Dammit, where’s her stupid genius of a boyfriend when you need him?! Where’s Chuuya? Akira needed all the support possible to get (Y/N) back. Otherwise

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            “(Y/N), what is going on with you? We need to stop him, not aid him!” said Kunikida, staring at the Divine Being standing almost dutifully beside Fyodor.

            “Please, (Y/N)!” said Jun’ichiro.

            However, the Divine Being remained silent.

            “Should the Agency reunite, it would be quite troublesome,” sighed Fyodor beside her. “Let’s cull you one-by-one.”

            Finally, the Divine Being moved. She tilted her head and gazed at Jun’ichiro and Kunikida. Both were frozen in place as her cold green gaze landed on them, and they couldn’t help but avert their eyes. Something deep within them curled up in fear. Each had the sudden compulsion to beg forgiveness of the being standing before them, like judgement was arriving and they must make their case for salvation.

            “Mr. Kunikida…” Jun’ichiro stammered out a word. “What is that…person?”

            “I don’t…” Kunikida couldn’t finish his phrase.

            A breeze blew the Divine Being’s veil to the side, Jun’ichiro’s gaze met her eyes fully. As he looked into the green gleam, he felt like three black circles were swirling within them, drawing him into darkness. Jun’ichiro wrenched back from the void, hunched over, and hurled.

            Merely meeting her gaze did that?! Kunikida’s eyes widened. My trembling…This cold sweat…It won’t stop. This all leads me to a single conclusion. Kunikida looked at the being that held (Y/N)’s form, clad in a kimono spun of white that shifted to the green of (Y/N)’s true Gift. This being is something beyond human. Kunikida could have sworn he saw her head turn more towards him. Thankfully, the veil continued to obscure the true power of her gaze. This must be who destroyed the airport. To think (Y/N)’s gift could cause this destruction…

            “What are you?” breathed Kunikida, forcing the words out.

            “I am a straw rope, decayed.” The Divine Being’s voice echoed into Kunikida’s mind. The words came not just from her mouth but from the air itself. “The corpse of an avian. The trace light of daybreak. The copper coin, pilfered. I am god. Thusly, I am thou. I am the perfect whole of this world, yet I am an empty void. I am all. I am none.” She raised her head, and Kunikida averted his eyes as the breeze blew her veil back. “I am the Divine Being of Natural Order.” The slivers of sunlight touched her kimono, and she glowed with true divinity. “A torrential downpour off the eaves of a home,” she continued. “The shade of the heavens, a night wetted by rain.”

            The Divine Being of Natural Order? Kunikida furrowed his brow. What the hell is happening in this airport?!

            “Thou art wounded.”

            Kunikida’s eyes widened. When did she get behind me?!

            The Divine Being stood behind him, and Kunikida could barely breathe as her presence pressed down around him. He dared not turn around.

            “How…unfortunate,” said the Divine Being. There was barely any cadence to her voice, no true feeling. Not unless Kunikida searched for it, and he feared listening to the words of a god further. If her eyes could cause distress, what were her words capable of? “You need not let your heart be troubled. Such hollow pain. Such hollow hopes. Such hollow judgements. Such hollow consciousness. Such hollow order.”

            Instant teleportation? Kunikida gritted his teeth as his shaking legs fought to remain standing. No…If she is a Divine Being made of Ame-no-Gozen, all those weapons Fukuchi possessed…then, could it be leaping through space? If that’s the case, then it wouldn’t just be space, but time, too? Whatever Fyodor had done to (Y/N), it had created a being of seemingly endless power.

            “Everything is hollow,” said the Divine Being. “Hollow of meaning. Hollow of truth. Hollow of order.”

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            Akira and Atsushi sprinted forward. If they could get to Agency quickly, they could escape with them from the Divine Being and stop Fyodor from escaping, but they needed to get to them. They rounded a corner of debris and found Fyodor standing tall. He wore a pleased smirk as he calmly watched the Divine Being. Jun’ichiro was crouched on the ground, staring at the Divine Being with awe and terror. She stood before Kunikida, floating slightly above the ground.

            “Tanizaki!” said Kunikida. “When I signal, use your ability to escape.”

            “But Mr. Kunikida!” said Jun’ichiro.

            The Divine Being’s katana materialized in her hand. She drew it back.

            “No, (Y/N) doesn’t kill!” shouted Akira.

            The Divine Being paused with her sword raised. A beat of silence roared in Akira’s ears. The Divine Being plunged the katana into Kunikida’s stomach.

            “No! Mr. Kunikida!” shouted Atsushi, running forward.

            Kunikida grabbed ahold of the blade impaling him and gritted his teeth. He stared up at the Divine Being’s eyes behind the veil, refusing to display the fear he felt oh-so-acutely. “Tanizaki, run! Now’s your chance!”

            “B-But—”

            “Now!” ordered Kunikida. Green light was glowing from his wound.

            “Honorable until the end,” said Akira, running forward. She couldn’t mourn, not when there were things to do, people it save. For (Y/N). Stay alive for (Y/N). Get (Y/N) back. Atsushi grabbed Jun’ichiro and darted off.

            The sword within Kunikida shone into emerald light. He coughed and tilted his head back. “Great…Fantastic move.”

            “Thou…This world…” The Divine Being paused as if sighing. “All equally hollow. But order must come. This blade, death itself, bring order. They have no power to harm thee.”

            Kunikida closed his eyes as his body faded into green bubbles of energy, tiny sprites of power. “Even if I die…my ideals will live on…”

            He faded into emerald light. It condensed into a single sphere of power, and the Divine Being held it. She gazed it moment a moment before curling her hand around it. It popped, dissolving into her hand.

            Kunikida’s notebook of ideals fell to the ground. He was gone.

Chapter Text

            “Atsushi, put me down!” Jun’ichiro rolled from Atsushi’s shoulders, knees hitting the ground. His hands were clenched into fists, so tight the knuckles were white.

            “We need to keep moving,” snapped Akira. She too was consumed with grief and worry, but she had no time for it. She only had time to try to help (Y/N).

            “That thing killed Kunikida!” shouted Jun’ichiro. “How dare it do that to him, that son of a bitch! I’ll tear it limb from limb!”

            A sword gleamed in the sunlight. The tip pointed directly at Jun’ichiro’s head. The Divine Being had arrived with no preamble, not even a process of teleportation. She hadn’t existed there, and now she did, bring destruction and death with her.

            “Tanizaki!” cried Atsushi, eye widening.

            Akira jumped back from the Divine Being, eyes going black. Her nails sharpened, and her every instinct was to fight. Though the presence of the Divine Being was formidable, Akira only had the heart for a fight—never freezing. However, she needed to escape with Atsushi. Otherwise, there would be no hope for anyone—including (Y/N). That was what mattered to Akira. She had to survive to save (Y/N).

            The katana stabbed down, slashing through Jun’ichiro’s throught.

            “No!” cried Atsushi.

            Green code-like lines filtered in around Atsushi and Akira. Jun’ichiro, expression grim, stepped out of the illusion he’d summoned.

            “Over here,” he said.

            “Mr. Tanizaki!” exclaimed Atsushi.

            “Leave this to me, Atsushi,” said Jun’ichiro. “You take care of everyone else. Get out of here with (Y/N)’s friend. There’s just one thing I have to ask of you. On my desk, there’s a bright blue fountain pen. There’s a note inside the pen’s barrel. Information about Naomi’s real family is written—”

            The Divine Being’s katana went through his forehead. Akira’s eyes widened, and she covered her mouth, taking a step back. She was no stranger to violence, but watching a being with (Y/N)’s face kill would always be a shock. (Y/N) had long ago vowed to not take a life. She would fight and harm and protect her loved ones, but she would not kill. This went against who (Y/N) was.

            “Hah…Damn it…” Jun’ichiro dissolved into green lights.

            The Divine Being held the sphere of light he became and broke it with an easy clench of their fist.

            Consuming them? But to what degree…Just their souls or even their gifts? thought Akira. She felt as if death itself stood before her. No, not death—order. When death comes, it is peace and calm taking you from this life. This being, she is doing more than that. She is consuming people in some way…

            “She’s going to kill us…” said Atsushi, taking a step back. “Even a light scratch from that blade is lethal. And no one can escape it—”

            “I’m not goddamn dying here,” snapped Akira. “Not when (Y/N) is somewhere within that thing and needs my help!”

            The Divine Being rose into the air before them, the long blade glittering with blood.

            “Atsushi! Miss Akira!” A younger voice piereced the air. “There you are!”

            Flying downwards on a metallic door like a sled in the air, Kenji held it tightly. He raised the metal door as he fell and slammed it downwards. It hit the Divine Being with enough force to crack the ground beneath them from just the wind. Akira and Atsushi braced as the waves of impact caused them to slide back. The Divine Being hit the side of a building, spiderwebs of cracks causing the remains of the building to list.

            “(Y/N)!” Akira couldn’t help her cry of worry. If (Y/N) was somewhere within the Divine Being, then she could be getting hurt, too…

            “Kenji?!” said Atsushi, eyes widening. “How did you get here?”

            “I saw the emergency flares,” said Kenji. “That really got me in a hurry, so that kind ol’ Hunting Dog gave me a boost over here! First things first, let’s get somewhere safe. C’mon, let’s hustle.”

            He held out a hand, and Akira felt the suffocating presence before she saw it. Lunging, she grabbed Kenji and rolled to the side with him. The Divine Being stood before them again, and she showed no signs of injury. Akira moved to her feet quickly, reaching out to pull Kenji up with her.

            His hand fell to the ground before she could take it. The Divine Being’s katana was lifted in the air, and she stared into the sky. She hadn’t even looked at her targets, but her aim has been perfect and precise. The Divine Being had truly surpassed humanity.

            “Atsushi. Miss Akira.” Kenji’s kind smile didn’t leave his young face. “Don’t stop now. No matter what happens—” cuts went through his head, but he didn’t falter “—we’ve gotta keep moving forward!”

            Kenji dissolved into light before he even bled, and the Divine Being took the green glow for herself once again.

            Atsushi let out a strangled scream and fell to his knees. Akira cursed, heart aching for the young boy, but she grabbed Atsushi and pulled him back. She wasn’t going to die there and leave (Y/N) with no one to rescue her.

            However, the Divine Being made no move to attack them. She stood unmoving. not calm but completely unfeeling towards all around her. It was worse than cruelty; it was apathy.

            “Atsushi, we have to go,” said Akira.

            “She’ll follow us…We can’t win…They died because of me…” sobbed Atsushi.

            “Dammit, Atsushi, do you want them to have died for nothing?!” said Akira, and Atsushi’s eyes widened.

            The Divine Being stepped forward and raised her katana. Akira cursed, nails sharpening. It was a blade. It was just a blade, ignore the deity holding it, fight as she must— The sword slashed down, and Akira raised her hands.

            The blade stopped before it touched her or Atsushi.

            “I’ve come to save you,” said a voice that made Akira snarl in anger. “Are you alright?”

            Atsushi’s eyes widened, and he pulled back. Akira stood from where she crouched, nails sharp and eyes completely black. The tips of her horns poked out from her hair, ready for her demonic form to come out. Hell Hath No Fury begged her to release her Gift.

            “Why the hell would you ever save us?!” cried Atsushi, staring. “Dostoevsky?!”

            “Finally, we can all speak properly,” said Fyodor. “Without the interruptions of all those troublesome Agency detectives.”

            “What?” said Atsushi.

            “I’d rather kill you than speak,” sneered Akira.

            “So crass,” said Fyodor distastefully. “Your worth is considerable, but why this form would be chosen…I fail to see the appeal in such a vulgar being.”

            “What are you talking about?” said Atsushi.

            Akira kept her eyes narrowed and trained on Fyodor and the Divine Being beside him. She’d let Atsushi stall for time and get answers to what was going on. Perhaps with more information they’d have a chance to destroy him. Oh, Akira was going to revel in tearing Fyodor limb from limb when she got the chance to…because she would get the chance to. She wouldn’t accept anything less.

            “You and the Tiger—” Fyodor looked at Atsushi “—and you and the Reaper—” he looked at Akira “—are special.”

            Atsushi furrowed his brow in confusion. He remembered that that Fyodor, the Guild, and other groups had searched for him and his ability, but he had always assumed it was for his regenerative and fighting abilities.

            On her part, Akira rolled her eyes. She had heard herself and her gift referred to as a demon, a reaper, a creature of death, too many times to count. She wasn’t fazed, and she knew Fyodor was just another religious zealot who believed gifts and abilities were something more than just that, gifts. But—she looked at the Divine Being—What if there is more?

            “You, Atsushi, an innocent beast,” said Fyodor. “You, fundamental to this world, beloved as its emotional hearth. Should I speak plainly, then you can be referred to in another manner. Let us take ‘The Book’ as our origin. You are its ‘Bookmark.’ ”

            I hate this Book and this stupid metaphor or whatever the fuck this symbolism is, thought Akira.

            “ ‘Bookmark?’ ” Atsushi shook his head. “No! I can’t trust a word out of your mouth! You killed everybody!”

            “I killed everybody?” Fyodor raised a brow and smirked. “Do you mean to say your hands are clean?”

            “What?” breathed Atsushi.

            “As the ‘Bookmark,’ your claws are quite characteristic,” said Fyodor. “Their power to tear through abilities can deny even the Divine Being’s dimensional detachment. Put simply, you could have protected your allies.” His smirk was sadistic.

            “I…could have saved them?” Atsushi’s voice shook.

            “Precisely. Their blood is on your hands,” said Fyodor. Atsushi fell to his knees. Pleased with further breaking his spirit, Fyodor continued casually. “That being said, it’s nothing to fret over. You could only have avoided a handful of deaths, after all. The Divine Being was born from the Tripolar Singularity. She is an idea of the Highest Order, Natural Order, surpassing human intellect.

            “She is beyond your capabilities on this plane. She is a physical manifestation brought about by the space-time sword, Ame-no-Gozen, and my angel’s Gift, There’s a Will; There’s a Way.” Akira growled lowly as Fyodor reached up and traced the Divine Being’s—(Y/N)’s—cheek. “While here there are three dimensions: length, width, and depth, by adding time, another dimension, her body now exists in Minkowski Space, a unique fourth dimension.

            “In essence, the form you see before you now is merely a shadow cast from a higher plane of existence.” Fyodor stood behind the Divine Being and lifted one of her arms, the other hand smoothing down her waist, provoking Akira’s horns to extend further as her anger took ahold. “How beautiful the shadow cast upon the Earth by the setting sun. How genuine we see it to be. And yet, it is nothing more than a false image. An imitation. But a lovely, oh-so-lovely, manifestation.

            “Three dimensional beings like yourselves have no hopes of defeating this Divine Being, ascended to a higher plane.” Fyodor paused. “Returned to it, truly. You can’t even conceive her true form. But I can assure you, it is as beautiful as her manifestation. Of course it is. Order is beautiful. (Y/N) is. And so is my angel’s true form.

            “But—” Fyodor continued before Akira spoke up in anger at his objectification of (Y/N) “—as you can see, would striking a man’s shadow kill them? It couldn’t possibly. So, perhaps a few lives would have been saved, but all would eventually be lost. Blood would stain your hands no matter what you do.”

            Atsushi swallowed, shaking slightly.

            Akira stepped forward. “We all have blood on our hands. That doesn’t take away from what you’ve done. Don’t twist the situation to make yourself righteous, you asshole.” She wanted to lunge at him, wrench him from (Y/N) and tear his tongue out for the way he spoke of her, but the Divine Being remained at his side. Akira would be dead before she took a step, and then (Y/N) would have one less person to save her.

            “Very true. You, Akira, the Wraith, the Reaper…Blood stains your hands and heart deeply.” Fyodor gazed at her, ignoring Atsushi’s devasted expression. That didn’t matter. Fyodor laced his hands behind his back. “You, too, fundamental to this plane of existence but representing another—death. All arrive at your doors eventually.”

            “First you try to make Atsushi feel guilty, and now you sound like every other idiot who believes I’m some demonic being because of what my gift looks like,” said Akira, scoffing. “It’s just an ability combined with my bad attitude. You’re incredibly unoriginal.”

            “Your attitude is the only reason you’ve been under the radar for so long,” said Fyodor. “That, and, of course, your father erasing your existence as much as possible.”

            Of course he did, thought Akira bitterly.

            “Everyone believes the murmurings of what you are come from who you are, not the nature of your existence,” said Fyodor. “The nature of your gift, that is. I hardly expected to ever encounter you. Finding you during my dealings with Shibusawa was more than luck, it was fate.”

            “More like luck saved you from getting killed back then. It won’t save you again,” said Akira.

            “Finding you beside my angel, though, that was interesting. It makes sense, though…It’s more that poetic. It’s natural.” Fyodor smiled, and it put Akira on edge. “Natural Order and Death go hand-in-hand. All life must come to an end. It is the way of things.”

            He speaks in riddles, thought Akira. Unfortunately, Akira couldn’t bring herself to argue. Something in his words felt strangely true, though she didn’t understand what, how, or why. However, Akira wasn’t one to remain silent for long, and if Atsushi was too shocked to speak, Akira would defend them both.

            “Death, huh? That’s a new one,” said Akira. “Maybe you are original. Still an ass.”

            “You do not believe me.” Fyodor smirked. “Tell me, when your ability activated, you were dying, yes?”

            Akira furrowed her brow. How did he…?

            “Mm.” Fyodor’s sadism enjoyed watching Akira’s expression falter. “I must ask, do you ever wonder what came back from death that day with you?”

            “What?” said Akira, narrowing her eyes.

            Fyodor smirked and stepped forward. He didn’t reply to her question, instead waving a hand and addressing her and Atsushi. He wasn’t going to reveal all he understood. He was too intelligent to ever compromise his strategic position of power. Fyodor has his angel at his side, completely devoted to him, but he would never stoop to assume he was untouchable. Getting cocky and comfortable was the reason Dazai had failed. Fyodor was superior to him. Besides, when facing the Tiger and the Reaper, Fyodor needed to remain in control.

            “Any who,” said Fyodor casually. “I’ve now accomplishment my mission. I’ve outwitted both Dazai and the world at large while also obtaining the Divine Being, One Order, and my angel. All that’s left is to travel home. To that end…” Fyodor drew the Divine Being to him, caressing (Y/N)’s face again before looking to Atsushi and Akira casually. “…perhaps you’d care to join me?”

Chapter Text

Manga Spoilers! Literally up to latest chapter!

            “…What?” said Atsushi.

            “I may have my angel, but the companionship of he who houses the Bookmark Death is…interesting, to say the least,” said Fyodor. “Despite the…disappointing forms they take.”

            Atsushi clenched his fists. “Who the hell would ever join a bastard like you?”

            “Fuck that,” snapped Akira.

            “The expected response.” Fyodor smirked. “Very well, then let’s sweeten the pot. Should you serve alongside me, you may use the backside of the page—” he patted his pocket to indicate he had it “—to return the Armed Detective Agency to its original state.”

            Atsushi’s eyes widened. His friends would live!

            Akira narrowed her eyes. “Except for (Y/N).”

            “She has ascended to the Divine Being she was always meant to be,” purred Fyodor. “Why would I let you drag her down to this lowly plane? This is a one-time offer. What will it be? I’ll give you five minutes to think—”

            “I’ll do it!” Tears were in Atsushi’s eyes, and his words were laden with desperation. “I’ll accept your deal! Please, save everyone!”

            “Atsushi,” hissed Akira. “What the hell are you doing? None of the Agency members would want this!”

            “You would take the deal if I offered (Y/N),” said Fyodor.

            “No, I wouldn’t,” said Akira, raising her chin. “Because (Y/N) wouldn’t want you to win and because I don’t trust you.”

            Fyodor smirked. “Oh, dear. I’ve been seen through.”

            Two slashes of light pierced the air. The Divine Being’s katana stabbed through Akira and Atsushi’s chests before they could blink. Akira and Atsushi stumbled. He fell to the ground, and she caught herself on her knees, gripping her chest as blood seeped through her shirt.

            “Your beauty lies only in your natures as the Bookmark and Death,” said Fyodor. “I haven’t the faintest interesting in you. Unlike my angel, the forms they took do not match their grandeur.”

            Stabbed and insulted. I’m really, really not having a good day, thought Akira blearily, trying to hold onto anger to remain focused on the situation at hand.

            “I’m begging you!” Atsushi clutched Fyodor’s ankle, tears pouring down his cheeks. “You can do whatever you want me this! I’ll give you my life! Please, just…save everyone else!”

            Fyodor’s eyes narrowed in disgust. “How unpleasant.” He wrenched his foot free and kicked Atsushi’s hand. “To think the Bookmark, that abhorrent, noble tiger, dwells withing such a…It’s as distasteful as the reaper choosing that one.”

            Reaper, Death, Wraith, I’ve got so many great names, thought Akira, trying to staunch the bleeding of her chest.

            “Please, if there’s anything I can do, I’ll do it!” said Atsushi, still begging for his friends’ lives.

            “I’ve changed my mind.” Fyodor raised his hand with the mark, and the Divine Being stepped forward with her katana in hand. “From the neck up should be more than enough to obtain the power I need from you.” He looked at the Divine Being. “My angel…decapitate them.”

            The Divine Being flicked her wrist downwards. And her hand fell to the side with the katana. Atsushi and Akira’s eyes widened. The Divine Being’s hand reappeared on her wrist a moment later, but she turned her head to face the person who had attempted to cut her apart.

            “How…” Atsushi stared.

            “That’s a look,” said Akira. I think the blood loss is getting to me. It was slowing as her healing ability caught up, but, still.

            “Oh my,” said Fyodor, raising a brow in amusement.

            “Fear death. Fear slaughter.” Akutagawa, dressed in shadow-like armor, held a sword and stared evenly at the Divine Being and Fyodor. “Should death toy with an innocent soul it shall thusly spill into the harbor of sorrow.”

            “Akutagawa…” said Atsushi in shock.

            I don’t remember him speaking “eloquently,” thought Akira.

            “I see,” observed Fyodor. “A little parting gift from Bram, then? Supposing the powers of the vampire still dwell within you, it’s not surprising you could follow the scent of blood here.”

            “I bear no grudge,” said Akutagawa. “However, I shall martyr myself on the pledge of this knight’s sword. To any barbarian who dares bring harm to the princess or to the commoners, I shall take aim, and I shall strike!” He raised his sword.

            Aya’s alive, realized Akira. And the vampires are compelled to protect her because of Bram. She wondered what Fyodor’s compulsion was. He did take over Bram’s body. He’d probably still kill her. Heartless bastard that he is.

            “It’s no use, Akutagawa!” shouted Atsushi as the Divine Being faced Akutagawa fully. “You’ll die if you fight her!”

            Akutagawa raised his head so that the helmet did not obscure his face. He stared at Atsushi indifferently. “Who the hell are you?”

            Atsushi’s eyes widened, and Akira narrowed her eyes. Apparently, mysteries were going to abound on all sides of this situation.

            The Divine Being moved behind Akutagawa and stabbed downwards with her practiced precision and power. Akutagawa blocked with his black shield.

            “Spatial distortion,” he said, reinforced the shield and moving himself farther from the Divine Being.

            He defended against that blade?! Atsushi’s eyes widened.

            “Well, well. Look at you,” remarked Fyodor. “You possess the ability to manipulate space, just as the Ame-no-Gozen does within the Divine Being. And yet…” He smirked.

            The Divine Being appeared behind Akutagawa, moving between planes and places of existence with ease.

            “So fast!” cried Atsushi.

            “Not fast—” said Akira.

            “Correct,” said Fyodor. “My darling angel can omit all movement up until the attack itself. In realm of space manipulation, I’m afraid you’re outclassed. My angel controls all she sees and feels, and she sees all.”

            The Divine Being struck, and Akutagawa whirled, blocking with his armored leg and kicking out. The Divine Being slid back from the strike. Akira grinned, Atsushi’s eyes widened in awe, and Fyodor started in shock.

            So she’s powerful, yes. But people can fight her, thought Akira. Fyodor’s plan isn’t untouchable. (Y/N) can be helped. That was all the strength Akira needed to stand again.

            The Divine Being and Akutagawa crossed blades. The two were equally strong and durable. Even when Akutagawa was forced back and his armor unwound to hover around him, he was not daunted by the being before him, the god.

            “You’ve even retained the vampire’s durability,” observed Fyodor, his self-satisfied smirking finally falling.

            Akutagawa stood straight with his helmet on. “This blade serves the heavens. This soul follows the path of righteousness. The path of the knight.”

            The Divine Being considered him, gaze steady behind her veil. “I serve order. I am order.”

            “I am order?” Just what exactly was this Divine Being? Akira furrowed her brow.

            The Divine Being and Akutagawa swung at one another. As their swords clashed, sparks of red and green light flashed and blinded their audience.

            “Let us pose a hypothetical.”

            Akira straightened as she heard the smirk in Fyodor’s words. His strategic voice was back, and that meant he had figured something out that spelt danger for them.

            “Let us suppose we have here an ability user who can block any attack with an impenetrable barrier,” said Fyodor. “However, this individual is one dimension below us. They inhabit the second dimension: the ‘paper world.’ Now. Question. Can we three dimensional beings break through this barrier and kill the individual?” He smirked. “The answer is, of course, with ease. Atop the paper, we may simply stab the man within the barrier. For within his world, ‘depth’ does not exist. We can circumvent the barrier and attack at will. A knife of a higher dimension is incomprehensible to him up until the moment he’s pierced, which rules out any possibility of evasion. Therefore, attacks coming from a higher dimension are intrinsically inescapable.”

            Third beats second. Fourth beats third—the Divine Being beats Akutagawa, even if it takes time. Akira’s eyes snapped to Fyodor as he held up his hand with the mark of the Divine Being.

            “Allow me to demonstrate,” he said with sadistic satisfaction.

            A sword burst from within Akutagawa’s stomach. He coughed, blood spluttering upon his lips. The Divine Being still floated in front of him, no change in her expression. Her sword had merely ceased to exist at her side and instead pierced him from the inside out—his three-dimensionality meant nothing to her.

            “Akutagawa!” cried Atsushi.

            “Shit,” cursed Akira as yet another avenue of fighting was brought to its knees. Was the Divine Being truly so unbeatable? Did she hold all the power in the world? Could they never defeat her and Fyodor to save (Y/N)?

            “She circumvented the higher dimension and delivered a blow directly to his internals.” Fyodor smiled sickeningly. “My angel is superior to you all.”

The look in his eyes as he gazed at the Divine Being was so far from love and so far fallen into obsession that it made Akira’s stomach turn and her horns fully curl out as her protective nature over (Y/N) reared its head.

            Akutagawa collapsed to the ground, blood pooling beneath his body. The Divine Being gazed down at him, but he didn’t fade into light. He was still breathing, but he was kept in check by her.

            “I’m sure you understand, now, how ill-advised it would be to fight a higher plane of existence,” said Fyodor.

            “What, you expect us to just roll over and die?” snarled Akira.

            “To be frank, whether you live or die is a matter far, far below my concern,” said Fyodor. “I can depend on my angel to dispatch of you and bring what I require. I must be going. It’s time to board my plane, after all.” He turned away, and the Divine Being stepped between him and Atsushi and Akira.

            “Then let me ask you this, demon of the far North.” Holding his katana tightly and wearing a grim, determined expression, Fukuzawa stepped out of the shadows in front of Fyodor. “Have you any interest in my survival?”

            Fyodor smirked, unfazed. “Not particularly.”

            Fukuzawa looked at the Divine Being and gritted his teeth. Grief creased his features. “(Y/N)…You’ve stolen her, warped who she is. Do not expect forgiveness.”

            “I made her who she was meant to be—a being far above all of you,” said Fyodor.

            Fukuzawa glared at him. “You stole Gen’ichiro’s dream of peace.”

            “I stole it? How absurd,” said Fyodor. “His dream of world peace was doomed from the start.”

            “What?” said Fukuzawa.

            “It would not have been possible to achieve world peace through his methods,” said Fyodor. “ ‘Unifying all states will eradicate war?’ An unlearned outlook befitting of your short lives. In any case, the framework of the ‘modern state’ itself only came into being around the eighteenth century and amounts to nothing but a toddling promise. Within the next several hundred years, political and militaristic affairs will likely become the jurisdiction of the private sector. Or, perhaps, colonies exercising independence as extraterrestrial communities will rise to prominence. No matter the ship, it won’t be known as any sort of antiquated system like a ‘Union of Mankind.’ Within their new groupings, man will once more settle into ‘us’ and ‘them’ and begin their massacre.”

            “They won’t,” said Fukuzawa forcefully. “In such a time, a union of mankind will rise yet again. And shouldering virtue and benevolence ‘us’ and ‘them’ will join together!”

            “That’s precisely it.” Fyodor tsked. “That’s the fatal flaw between the two of you. The very ‘virtue’ and ‘benevolence’ of which you speak. I think it’s spectacular. However, that’s only as long as it fits atop your palm. As ‘virtue and benevolence’ outgrow that fixed size, man grows irritated. ‘World peace.’ ‘A union of mankind.’ Humanity cannot bear such enormous virtue.”

            He cast his gaze down and sighed. “Man will always forgo virtue in favor of ‘what feels natural.’ Just as he’ll forever revere the ‘status quo’ more than ‘benevolence.’ A colossal commonwealth of man. Autocracy for world peace. The masses would never allow such a thing. They cannot even handle taking care of children without family.”

            Akira and Atsushi both stiffened. They had experienced the callousness with which the world treated people who did not belong. Atsushi hid behind shyness and became easily frightened as he tried to fit in. Akira built up walls and a rough exterior to protect herself. They both understood that peace was hard to find if you were not what people approved of.

            “With a union of man having set the stage, a party of heroes will come forth who feel such is ‘unnatural,’ ” continued Fyodor. “They shall destroy it all for their goal of division and independence.”

            “That isn’t true! Man will choose peace!” said Fukuzawa.

            “He will do no such thing,” said Fyodor. “I can prove it. Fukuchi claimed he killed five hundred in the name of world peace. Yet you yourself could not affirm it.”

            “…!” Fukuzawa started.

            “He killed innocent people,” said Akira savagely. “He killed my mother and (Y/N)’s! He claimed he wanted peace but he never sought to bring people together, only to eradicate those who went against him!”

            “Akira,” said Fukuzawa quietly, and Akira looked at him, quieting. Fukuzawa looked at Fyodor, shoulders sagging slightly. “That may be true…” He glared. “But you deceived Gen’ichiro by keeping quiet the issues that would plague a union of mankind. You made a fool of him, knowing peace would never come. You are pure evil!”

            “How absurd.” Fyodor put his hand to his heart. “I am Fukuchi’s successor. I am his disciple, inheriting his dream, bringing true, lasting peace.”

            “You want to bring peace?” said Akira. “I don’t believe it.”

            “How would you do it?” said Fukuzawa, narrowing his eyes.

            Fyodor smirked. “Through world war.”

            Fukuzawa’s eyes widened as a blade pierced his chest from the back. The Divine Being held the hilt and pushed the katana farther in, causing him to cough up blood.

            Atsushi let out a strangled scream.

            “No!” shouted Akira.

            It was too late. The Divine Being pulled the blade from his chest, and Fukuzawa crumpled to the ground.

            How did she do that? She was standing behind Fyodor— Akira’s eyes widened as she looked towards Fyodor. The Divine Being was still there. She was just also standing over Fukuzawa’s body.

            “By folding them across the axis of the fourth dimension, time, I’ve manifested the Divine Being of the past and the Divine Being of the present at once,” said Fyodor. “Three dimensional being such as yourself are able to draw with both hands simultaneously atop a two-dimensional surface, are you not? The same principle is now at play.”

            Goddamn these fucking dimensions, thought Akira furiously.

            Fyodor looked down at Fukuzawa and decided to humor him with the “how” of achieving world peace. “Eternal peace, born of world war…It’s a true shame I won’t be able to show it to you. In one corner, humanity. In the other, Gifted. That’s sure to be a long, long battle, don’t you think? Such opposition, coupled with threads of abhorrence, shall give rise to a humanity united.”

            “By uniting them against the gifted,” said Akira, narrowing her eyes.

            “Of course,” said Fyodor. “Gifts are, of course, a sin.”

            “You’re using us for your own ends,” said Akira. “Because you don’t see us as human.”

            “You? Most definitely not,” said Fyodor.

            “War in the name of peace?” From where he bled, Fukuzawa spoke angrily. “That’s contradictory!”

            “The stage has already been set,” said Fyodor. “The vampire’s global invasion has shown the world the danger of ability users. ‘We don’t need those abilities in the history of mankind.’ ‘Kill them all.’ Making them believe that will be simple with ‘One Order.’ ”

            Akira knew all too well that bigotry spread like plague. Fyodor could easily create the war he sought.

            “Utilizing not ‘virtue’ and ‘benevolence’ but the ‘hideousness of man,’ I shall bring forth a thousand years of peace built atop the corpses of the gifted,” said Fyodor.

            “What…are you?” breathed Fukuzawa, staring at Fyodor. “I can’t possibly see you as human. Why would you go to such lengths to—”

            “Ssh.” Fyodor pressed a finger to his lips at the moment Fukuzawa began to fade into light.

            “President!”

            “Fukuzawa!”

            “Atsushi, Akira…Forgive me,” said Fukuzawa tiredly. “I’m leaving the rest…in your hands…” He disappeared, and the Divine Being took the final sphere of green light into her hands. She clasped it gently, and it dissolved.

            Akira and Atsushi were left alone, facing with Fyodor and two Divine Beings who could come from any place and any time in a way they could never understand. How could they hope to win?

Chapter Text

            Dazai leaned against the doorway of his apartment with (Y/N)—they had naturally ended up living together, even if they hadn’t discussed it at all. They spent too much time together and slept over, and, then, one day all of their clothes were in the same closet and they were eating dinner every night together.

            “Sorry I took a moment to get ready,” said (Y/N), exiting their shared room. She wore a long green skirt and a white blouse. She smiled. “I’m ready to go now.”

            “You look so pretty,” said Dazai, smiling.

            (Y/N) smiled, cheeks warming. “Thank you, Dazai.”

            He took her hand and playfully kissed the back. “Let’s get going, my love.”

            “What are our plans for the day?” asked (Y/N). “You won’t tell me a thing.”

            “I want to surprise you,” said Dazai, smiling cheerfully. “Can’t I surprise my girlfriend on Valentine’s Day?”

            “I guess so,” said (Y/N), smiling and kissing his cheek.

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            (Y/N)’s eyes widened, and she smiled as they arrived at a bookstore.

            “Books? For Valentine’s Day? You know me too well,” said (Y/N), smiling widely.

            “I’ve spoiled you with sweets and jewelry, and you love books, so what better way to spoil you this year than with books?” said Dazai. He knew all, as usual. “And while you’re getting books, I’ll grab us coffee and snacks.”

            “Oh, I’m really getting spoiled. I just wish I had something to give to you,” said (Y/N).

            “I just want to see you smile.” Dazai grinned wider. “And I know I’m going to get a lot of kisses and thanks after this.”

            (Y/N) rolled their eyes as he wiggled his eyebrows. “What’s my budget?”

            “How much can you pick up in ten minutes?” asked Dazai. He looked at his watch. “Starting…Now!”

            (Y/N) let out a cry of joyful surprise and ran into the store. Dazai laughed and grinned. He really did love her.

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            “This was so fun!” said (Y/N) as she held her mocha and Dazai carried the books into their apartment. “Thank you so much.”

            “I’m here to make you happy,” said Dazai, smiling. He set the books down on the table and faced her. “I like to make you happy.”

            (Y/N) took his hands and smiled. “Thank you, Dazai. Really. I love you.” She leaned in and kissed him.

            Dazai squeezed her hands and kissed her back. “I love you, too.”

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            “Raspberry Martini? You got it.”

            “Here’s your Love Potion No. 9. Have fun.”

            “Strawberry margarita for the pretty lady. Go and talk to the girl in red. You’re both making eyes at one another.”

            “Another espresso martini? Hey, you have to keep that energy.”

            “Rum and coke? Classic.”

            Akira smiled and watched the patrons in The Painted Glass danced with one another, chatted, and laughed. It was Valentine’s Day, and, sure, Akira was working, but at least other people were having fun.

            I used to go out with (Y/N), but her useless boyfriend has stolen her. Akira was happy for (Y/N), but she also loved her best friend. Ah, well. She’d get a date another day. She was capable of that.

            “Akira?”

            Akira paused. She turned around and leaned on the bar counter. “Hey, Red. Haunting a bar you’ve been thrown out of? Brave.” She couldn’t stop the smile from seeing him, however.

            “I have expensive tastes,” said Chuuya. “I can’t help sneaking in somewhere that fits them.”

            “Aw, drinking your singleness away on Valentine’s Day?” said Akira, winking.

            “Like someone who’s working on Valentine’s Day?” said Chuuya.

            “Hey, this is my bar.” Akira smirked. “I can have fun here whenever I want.”

            “Well, if you really can…” Chuuya held out a hand. “Want to dance?”

            Akira considered for just a moment, her heart thumping in her chest. “Why not.” She vaulted over the counter and took his hand. “It’s a party. I’m going to have some fun.”

            Chuuya suppressed a grin. He really was whipped for Akira, though he couldn’t admit it.

Chapter Text

            “Akira went all out,” said Atsushi, staring around the bar that had been transformed into a gay bar—the music and vibe had completely altered.

            “Well, she likes pride month,” said (Y/N). “You know how bisexuals are described as disasters?”

            “Yeah?” said Atsushi. “She’s a disaster?”

            “No, that’s Dazai.” (Y/N) watched Dazai attempt to spin on a pole, fall, and hit his head. She shook her head, knowing he was just fine. “Akira is a greedy bisexual. This is for, quote, ‘getting to party with the hottest gays and theys.’ ” She grinned at Atsushi.

            “That’s…quite a goal,” said Atsushi.

            “It’s working, isn’t it?” said (Y/N), pointing at where Akira, eyeshadow in pink and blue, was dancing with a girl and a boy at once. “Now, come on, Atsushi, go and enjoy yourself.” She pushed Atsushi towards the crowd where Yosano, drunk, grabbed him and pulled him over to meet new people.

            (Y/N) laughed, and when an arm wrapped affectionately around her shoulders, she just smiled more. She knew who it was by heart. “Hello, Dazai.”

            Dazai kissed her on the cheek. “Did you see my trick? I spun.”

            “Is that what falling is called these days?” said (Y/N). Dazai pouted, and (Y/N) kissed his cheek. “You did great.”

            “That’s better,” said Dazai. He swayed with the music, and (Y/N) joined him as his hands went from her shoulders to her waist, and his head rested on her shoulder. “I like getting compliments more.”

            “Greedy,” said (Y/N), though she would always indulge him and he knew it.

            “For your love? Always,” said Dazai, taking her hand and spinning her. “Now, how has your evening been?”

            “Good,” said (Y/N). “Akira’s parties are always great.” Her hips continued to move to beat, and she didn’t let go of Dazai’s hands as they conversed.

            “She might try to steal you,” said Dazai. “But she does know how to throw a party. And pride should be a celebration.”

            “A celebration of you and me,” agreed (Y/N), squeezing his hands.

            Dazai pulled her close as “Rush” by Troye Sivan began to play, and he ran his hands down her sides. (Y/N) hummed along and closed her eyes as the lights flashed over them.

            “I’ll always celebrate you,” said Dazai. He was definitely addicted to her touch—her love.

            “And you know I feel the same way,” said (Y/N).

            “Good,” said Dazai. He pulled her close by the hips and whispered in her ear beneath the music. “Don’t know what I’d do if you fell for another.” He spoke teasingly, but it was honest. Dazai was devoted to (Y/N). She was the light in his perpetual darkness. Without her, he didn’t know what he’d do. He swallowed those thoughts and tried to lighten the mood again. “Probably have to kill them and kidnap you.”

            “You’re not Dostoevsky,” scolded (Y/N). She was glad they could joke about him. He was a danger. But in Dazai’s arms? (Y/N) felt strong and safe.

            “Mm,” agreed Dazai with a hum. He wasn’t, and he never would be. (Y/N) was her own person. “But I am easily jealous. And when my girlfriend is so beautiful and loves women and men and the whole spectrum, how can I handle it? Everyone will try to steal you away!”

            (Y/N) laughed at his dramatics and pulled him close by his broach. “And my boyfriend is handsome and bisexual, so a million people could try to steal him from me.”

            “And…you get jealous?” said Dazai eagerly.

            “Mm, no,” said (Y/N), and Dazai pinched her side playfully. She swatted his arm, and Dazai caught her hand to spin her. “No reason to get jealous. I know that I have you, and you’re not going anywhere.” She was completely secure in her relationship with Dazai.

            “You’ve got me,” agreed Dazai. He cupped her face and kissed her, and (Y/N) smiled into the kiss, closing her eyes.

            “I love you,” she whispered as they separated.

            “I love you, too,” said Dazai.

            “How about we keep celebrating us?” said (Y/N), squeezing his hand. “There are some great drinks at the bar.”

            “I think your bartender is drunk,” said Dazai, looking at how Akira was now pouring drinks directly into a woman’s mouth.

            “I’ll make us some, then,” laughed (Y/N). She had free reign in the Painted Glass because she was Akira’s favorite.

            “Let me guess—Aperol Spritzes?” said Dazai.

            (Y/N) smiled. “How’d you know?”

            “Just a guess,” said Dazai. Not really. He just knew her favorite drink, favorite food, favorite—well, the list could go on. Dazai paid a lot of attention to (Y/N).

            He watched her vault over the bar and begin to mix them drinks. Some other guests of Akira, and Akira herself, danced with (Y/N), shouting the lyrics to different Brat tracks, but Dazai only had eyes for (Y/N) as she let go, danced, and sang as she made them their drinks. He watched the light, green for Brat, illuminating her body curving with the music, hips shaking. Dazai smiled to himself as he saw the wide grin on her face, the light in her eyes that had first captured his attention.

            Dazai loved (Y/N).