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By the time he gets the email, Chuuya’s hands are already shaking. A sign of exhaustion, of overusing his ability. It’s been a whole week of nonstop cases, of solo missions where he’s the only option, of fighting and killing until the voice is his head won’t shut up and he wants to just let loose and paint the streets red—
Chuuya takes a deep breath. He sits down. His knees ache: he should try to lessen the impact they take over the next few days.
He’s not sure what he did to piss off Mori this time. Or if there was a reason. Sometimes it seems like these random increases in his workload are just a test, a way to make sure he’s still loyal to the mafia. That first year, back when he was eighteen, it was fair. He almost left. But now, three years later, Mori should know that he made his choice and is sticking with it.
It’s not like he has anywhere else to go — he’s seen Dazai in the news lately. His partner… ex-partner. His ex-partner joined a detective agency. He’s out there saving lives now. A weapon like Chuuya could never be accepted in a place like that. The mafia is his family, his only option.
But in times like this, Chuuya wishes he had somewhere to run to.
There’s a new email on his phone. It came in six minutes ago, just before he got home. Timed so that he would see it when he checked his phone before going to bed.
His gloved fingers tighten around the fragile device. Chuuya takes another long breath and reminds himself that breaking it would be a bad idea; Mori already knows he saw this email, and it’s not a missive Chuuya can afford to ignore.
A list of locations, of jobs that need to be taken care of before midnight. It’s one in the morning. That gives him twenty-three hours. There are thirty-seven items on the list, and Mori has indicated that these are solo missions, not things he’s allowed to ask for support on. Given this week’s intensity, there’s no way Chuuya can do all this.
But failure isn’t an option either.
Failure means he’s betraying the organization. Mori made it clear three years ago, after Dazai left, that if Chuuya followed his partner’s footsteps, Mori would punish him. For a while now, Chuuya’s had two obvious weak spots: Ryuunosuke might be an ability user, but to Mori, Gin is expendable. If Chuuya messes this up, she’ll die. And it’ll be his fault. Ryuunosuke will try to avenge his sister and he’ll be killed too.
Thanks to his shaking hands, it takes him a couple tries to click out of the email. He navigates to the call option and hesitates. If he asks anyone from the Port Mafia for help, Mori will find out.
So, after a moment’s hesitation, he taps in another number, one that he memorized if only to call and rant at the voicemail when he’s drunk.
He expects to be sent to voicemail. But on the third ring, the call goes through. He doesn’t hear anything from the other side.
“I—” Chuuya bites his lip. He takes another breath. His voice is wobbly, like he’s going to cry, and that’s ridiculous. He doesn’t have time for that.
Chuuya shifts, bringing a hand up to cover his lips from any cameras that may be around his apartment. “I need help,” he whispers.
Five seconds pass, then the call cuts off.
Sighing, Chuuya gets to his weary feet. He grabs his hat and sets off, hoping that meagre break was a long enough pause that he won’t make any amateur mistakes in the field later.
Though, it would be a little funny if he got himself killed. Mori would have no one but himself to blame for losing his best weapon.
On a normal day, Dazai would be delighted at how shocked everyone was to see that he’s the first one in the office, but today is an important day, so they need to pick their jaws up off the floor and get to work.
“Kunikida, finally!” Dazai greets as his detective-partner arrives. “You’re late! We’ve got a lot to get to today, and not a lot of time!”
“What? Dazai, we only have a meeting with a client at eleven.”
“Oh, I already solved that case and told her to not bother coming in. The police arrested the murderer.” He finished that, like, hours ago. “We got a call last night. Very high-profile client. Super important. We gotta get everything done by midnight, so either we get started now, or we get paid overtime.”
“What case is this?” President Fukuzawa asks. “I don’t remember approving anything that requires overtime.”
“Don’t worry about it,” Dazai says, waving a hand nonchalantly. “I’ve got this covered. And trust me, you’ll like the outcome.” Fukuzawa hums but lets it slide. Shockingly, so does Ranpo; Dazai can feel beady eyes lingering on him, but the other detective doesn’t say a word, despite Dazai’s motivations being incredibly obvious to the likes of him.
“Well, if the case is that time-sensitive, then we should get going.” Kunikida grabs his daily planner from his desk. “Fill me in as we go, Dazai. I will create the perfect schedule— what did you do?!”
Dazai grins. “What? I even colour coded everything!” He already took the liberty of planning their day. “Now chop chop, we’ve got places to be.”
“Alright,” Kunikida follows him out of the Agency, reading the planner. “Dazai, you know these locations are all within Port Mafia territory, correct? And what do these acronyms mean? You’ve listed a bunch next to the different tasks, like BSU for this first location?”
“Yeah, I know where we’re going. And don’t worry about that, Kunikida! What, do you think I’m committing crime or something?” Dazai laughs.
“I suppose not. You may be secretive about your past, but I trust you. I know you aren’t a criminal.”
Dazai, an ex-Port Mafia executive who is currently on his way to Blow Stuff Up, grins.
It’s nine by the time Chuuya gets to the fourteenth location. He’s thoroughly exhausted, about seven or nine expressos in at this point, and really wants a goddamn nap. But he’s not done. Not yet.
But he suspects the sleep-deprivation is kicking in. There’s no other reasonable explanation for why he’s just arrived at the location, a warehouse of an enemy gang organization that he’s supposed to get information from then destroy, only to find the gang members unconscious and tied to a lamp post. Their warehouse is on fire. A USB is taped to the lamp post too, high enough no regular person would be able to reach it. He hops up and grabs the USB.
After pocketing it, he spies the note on the gang members. It’s a pink sticky note reading: Haha, too slow!
There’s no sign off, but Chuuya’s lips quirk up. He knows this ugly handwriting all too well.
Chuuya finds himself home at eleven that night. An hour to spare. Everything is complete. His kids Gin and Ryuunosuke are safe.
Since he has no new emails, Chuuya falls asleep and doesn’t bother to set an alarm.
“We have to fire him!”
Oh dear. Someone’s in a mood. Dazai smirks as he slinks into the Agency an hour late. He finds Kunikida speaking to the president, who is doing a good job pretending to listen as he makes his morning tea.
“President, you don’t understand! Dazai’s actions are not befitting of a proper detective! He blew buildings up! He threatened people at gunpoint! He—”
“Got results?” Dazai quips, sliding into his desk chair. “Calm down, Kunikida. I told you this was all part of the plan.”
“What plan? You’ve done nothing but cause destruction—”
“Exactly!” Dazai beams.
“It’s a good plan,” Ranpo nods along. “I think the Agency will benefit greatly.”
Kunikida’s forehead vein pops out and his eye starts twitching. “How is causing property damage and threatening people a good plan?!”
“Oh Kunikida, you aren’t looking at the big picture!” Dazai laughs. “See, I happen to know someone. This someone is very influential, and we just did him a favour yesterday.”
“…By blowing things up.”
“Yep! Trust me, this is all working out as I planned.” Well. Sort of. Dazai anticipated this plan needing a couple more years to pull off smoothly, but, shockingly, Mori messed up. He pushed the chibi too far, so, naturally, Dazai swooped in.
As expected, they get a visitor around four. Dazai has already finished his work for the day, so, when the door swings open, he pretends to be working away busily.
“Oi.”
Dazai shoves aside his gibberish sticky notes and looks up, grinning. “Why hello there, client I have never met before. How can the Armed Detective Agency be of service? Are you perhaps looking for a job?”
Blue eyes narrow at him. “Fuck off. You honestly think I’d be a good detective?”
“Of course! I mean, as a completely objective third-party with no personal ties to you, I believe you have detective-potential!”
Kunikida sighs. “Sorry, sir. Ignore him, he’s still relatively new. Can I help you?”
“No.” Chuuya frowns at Kunikida. “Just… thanks. I owe you guys one.”
“I know,” Dazai says happily. “I’d like to cash in now.”
Chuuya blinks. “What do you want? And don’t suggest that I should join you here—”
“Oh don’t be silly! I’d never tell someone I’m only just meeting to quit their horrible job where they work overtime they aren’t paid for and have no medical leave, to instead come work at a super fun place that has employee benefits and great people, including a lady who likes fancy wine.” Chuuya’s brow quirks. Good. He took the bait. “No, no. All I want are the Akutagawas.”
A blink. “What.”
“You heard me.”
“I can’t just— What are you—” Chuuya frowns. “What the fuck, Dazai?”
“In return for helping you, I want the Akutagawas. Unless the chibi is incapable of delivering?”
Chuuya’s brows scrunch together. He looks around the Agency, gaze lingering on Ranpo, Kunikida, and on Junichiro, the new kid, who he looks at the longest.
“Hey kid. What do you do around here?”
Junichiro startles. “Oh, I mostly help with smaller tasks, like getting Ranpo to and from crimes.”
“Are you ever in danger?”
“I guess?” The kid shrugs. “But the other detectives are helping me learn how to use my ability to run away if I’m in danger, and one of them is always there if a fight is likely.”
Chuuya nods. He turns and leaves without another word.
Kunikida eyes Dazai. “Did you know that man?”
“What man?” Dazai says flippantly. “I didn’t see anyone.” After all, it would be treason for a certain red-haired executive of the Port Mafia to come see the ex-Demon Prodigy.
The next day, Dazai walks into the office and sees Gin and Ryuunosuke standing at attention next to his desk.
“Dazai, sir. I understand we’ve been transferred here. I request you forgive us for whatever act we committed that caused Chuuya-san to discard us.” Ryuunosuke bows, but his coat ripples, showing his nerves. Gin just stares at Dazai. They both know Chuuya kicked them out of the mafia, and they went along with it because they trust the chibi, but they have no idea what’s going on.
“Oh, don’t worry about that, you did nothing wrong. I asked for you two.” Dazai smiles kindly at them. “See, I have a particular task I need your help with.”
“Anything, Dazai.” Ryuunosuke agrees immediately. He always was so eager to please.
“It’s not hard. All you have to do is tell Chuuya how great working at the Agency is.”
Gin shifts. That’s enough of a signal for Dazai to elaborate. “We both know he’ll check on you, even if it’s illegal. So, when he shows up to bring you food, tell him how great this place is.”
“Why?” Ryuunosuke asks, speaking for both siblings.
“I’d like to know that too,” Kunikida adds. “Dazai, who are these children?”
Ryuunosuke scoffs. “I could strike you down where you stand. I am not a child.” Gin nudges his arm. “Correction: we could both strike you down.”
“This is Akutagawa Ryuunosuke and Akutagawa Gin. They’re gonna work here now, isn’t that great?”
A gasp from the doorway. Dazai grins; just on time. Naomi, Junichiro’s sister, rushes over and grabs Gin’s hands, beaming at her.
“Oh my gosh, hi!! You’re so pretty, wow. I had no idea they were hiring people close to my age, but I’m so glad they did, you’re seriously gorgeous.”
Gin leans back, her eyes wide.
“Let go of my sister,” Ryuunosuke growls, glaring at Naomi. His coat snaps, the brim crackling with red energy.
“Don’t snap at my sister, jerk!” Junichiro gets into Ryuunosuke’s space, and Dazai finds himself oddly reminiscent of how he and Chuuya first met when they were young. Ah, what good times.
“Now everyone, let’s calm down—”
“Do you want to die?”
“Just try it, I’ll kick your ass!”
“Brother, stop it!”
Gin tugs on her brother’s sleeve, but the two teenage boys are too busy glaring at each other to pay attention to their more rational sisters.
“Rashomon!”
“Light Snow!”
Dazai sighs, and steps in, grabbing each boy by the shoulder so their abilities cancel out. “Okay, enough of that. No in-fighting, you two. Let’s all be friends, alright?”
“Yes, sir.”
“I guess.”
Since Chuuya is weak and can’t help it, he finds himself back at the Armed Detective Agency less than a week later, a picnic basket in hand. He just hops Mori won’t notice that he’s snuck out again.
He doesn’t bother knocking and pushes the door to the Agency open, and—
“Ryuu!”
Ryuunosuke looks over, a guilty expression taking over. He puts his hand behind his back, as if that hides the fact that Chuuya just saw him punching another kid in the face.
“Kid, you alright?” Chuuya goes to the other redhead’s side, steadying him. His cheek is bruising, but that looks like the worst of the damage.
Then the kid he’s holding vanishes in a swirl of snowflakes.
“What.”
“Tch. The coward’s ability.” Ryuunosuke still looks guilty. “Chuuya-san. You shouldn’t be here.”
“It’s fine. No one knows.”
“But—”
“It’s fine.” He holds Ryuunosuke’s gaze, silently ordering the boy to drop it. They both know he’s already in trouble for sending the siblings here, but short of giving him even more solo missions, there’s nothing Mori can do if he’s caught sneaking out to visit them. The Port Mafia can’t risk losing him, not now, or ever. He’s too strong, too integral to their operations.
Just as he’s about to ask where Gin is, he’s tapped on the elbow. “Chuuya-san.”
“Gin. Hi, how are you?” She’s dressed casually. Her hair is tied in a ponytail and she’s wearing a pretty dress with teddy bears printed around the skirt. Chuuya doesn’t recognize it.
“Good. Naomi and I went shopping.” She takes Chuuya’s hand and tugs him across the room to where another dark-haired girl is flipping through a file, taking notes. “Naomi. This is Chuuya-san.”
The girl peeks up. She sets her work aside and smiles. “Oh hi! It’s so nice to meet you! I’m Naomi, I work as a clerk here.” Her eyes flick towards Gin and a small blush colours her cheeks.
Chuuya blinks, then his surprise grows when Gin squeezes his hand. He did not see this coming.
“Yeah. Nice to meet you too, kid.” He looks to Gin, who’s smiling shyly. “Uh. Feel free to give me a call if you ever need anything, alright? Gin can give you my number.”
“Oh, thank you.”
“So,” Chuuya starts, only to be cut off by feral screeching.
The two girls exchange looks and sigh.
“Is that…”
“Our brothers, yes. They’re basically friends now, but still get into fights like it’ll prove they’re cool or something. They’re being ridiculous.” Naomi shakes her head. “I keep telling Junichiro that if he doesn’t smarten up I’m not cooking for him anymore, but he’s not listening!”
“Boys are dumb,” Chuuya supplies, shrugging. “Give them time, I’m sure they’ll sort things out.”
Gin shakes her head. “Ryuu likes fighting.”
“Yeah. True.” Well, rival-friends aren’t a bad way to go. “Think I should offer to spar with him?”
“Ohho? Is the slug is sparring? Should I gather all his fans so they can admire his muscles?”
“Shut up.” Chuuya shoves Dazai’s face away. He isn’t sure when the bastard snuck up on him but also doesn’t care. “I’m not here to see your ugly mug.”
“Ouch! Words hurt, Chibi!” Dazai grins at him. It’s strange to see two hazel eyes sparkling at him rather than just the one. It’s a good look. One that holds Chuuya’s attention long enough that it takes him a moment to realize he’s been staring into Dazai’s eyes for far longer than is normal.
He clears his throat and steps back, missing the pointed look Gin sends to Naomi, who nods solemnly in response.
“Right. Well, I’m just here to drop off some food. So. Here you go.” Chuuya shoves the picnic basket into Gin’s arms. “Later.” He hesitates at the doorway, then sets off.
He’s back eight days later.
There was an arrest that made the news. Ryuunosuke and that other boy, Junichiro, worked together to make it happen. Naturally, that means Chuuya needs to bring a treat for the kids to celebrate. He stayed up the night prior and made two cakes: a vanilla one with strawberry frosting and a dark chocolate one. An option for those that like sweets (Gin) and those that are not as fond (Ryuunosuke and Dazai). Plus, each cake is a decent size for sharing, so the other members of the Agency can have some too.
Chuuya makes his way up the stairs and into the office, raising an eyebrow at the scene: Dazai is getting strangled by the blond guy, Kunikida.
“You good?” Chuuya asks. Dazai is laughing, so that means he isn’t in actual danger, but still.
“Kunikida’s just grumpy,” Dazai says, finally slipping out of the hold and coming over to greet Chuuya with a smile that is far too fond, enough so that it takes him a moment to reply.
“Oh.” He clears his throat. “Anyway, where’s Ryuu? I saw the news and brought celebratory cake.”
“Cake?” Another detective suddenly looks a lot more interested than he did a moment ago. “Dazai, this idea of yours truly was great.”
“I know, Ranpo. I’m the best.”
Chuuya has no idea what these two are on about, so he scoffs. “You say that, but I’m the one who made cake. So that makes me better than you, Mackerel.”
“Ha! Only if people want to eat slug germs.”
A tap on his shoulder. “I’d like some.” Gin smiles at him. “Naomi too, please.”
“Of course.” Chuuya looks around and finds their kitchen, then gets to work unpacking his supplies: the two cakes, paper plates, and forks. He realizes he forgot a kitchen knife, doesn’t see one around, then shrugs and grabs one of his numerous daggers. It’s fine. He cleans them each thoroughly every night and hasn’t fought at all yet today.
He cuts slices of the vanilla-strawberry cake for Gin and Naomi, and by the time he’s handed them their cake, Ryuunosuke and Junichiro have made their appearances, so Chuuya gets them sorted too.
Through the process of cutting pieces of cake for people, he meets the other detectives, Ranpo and Kunikida, the doctor, Yosano, and the Agency President, Fukuzawa. He then meets Ranpo again, when the guy comes back for seconds and thirds. Chuuya is kind of flattered someone likes his cake so much.
Dazai hums happily as he eats a small piece of cake. He sends a single text message, one that is coded and will be untraceable, of course. Things are moving swiftly now.
Not a day later, Chuuya gets a message: he is to report to the boss immediately.
So, ten minutes later, Chuuya finds himself standing in Mori’s office, hands clasped behind his back as he waits for the boss to speak.
Mori stays silent for a long four minutes, then sighs. “Chuuya. Did you know?”
“Know what?” He frowns. By now, Mori knows that Chuuya appreciates blunt, to-the-point conversation. Asking him an ambiguous question like this is just odd.
“Kouyou did not check in this morning.”
Chuuya’s brow furrows. “Is she out of town?” Last he heard, Kouyou was training a young girl and would be busy for the foreseeable future.
“No. None of her girls know her location either. And,” Mori adds, “that girl she was training has vanished too.”
“You don’t think that girl managed to kill Kouyou.” Worry knots Chuuya’s chest. There’s no way, right? Kouyou is strong; she wouldn’t be caught off guard.
“Hm.” Mori leans back. “You can go.”
“What?”
“I said you can go. You’ve never been much of a liar, Chuuya. I need to investigate other avenues. Please go back to work.”
“Oh. Okay then.” Chuuya bows and leaves, puzzled. Clearly Mori doesn’t think Kouyou is dead. If that’s the case, what happened?
Almost a full week later, Chuuya wakes to an email from Mori with a long list of tasks. He groans and wants to turn over and go back to sleep but forces himself up anyway. Since Kouyou’s disappearance, many of her tasks as an executive have fallen to him. He’s lucky to get five hours of sleep a night, if he has time to go to bed at all.
Like the last time he felt this sort of growing dread built from having an impossible list of things to complete by the day’s end, Chuuya makes a call. It rings three times, then goes through.
“I need help again,” he says in a near-whisper. Even to himself his voice sounds tired.
“Come over. I have a plan.”
Chuuya startles, not expecting Dazai to speak back. The phone clicks as the call is cut off.
But Dazai’s plans are usually pretty good, so Chuuya gets dressed and heads over to the Agency.
Upon arrival, he realizes a couple key things: first, Kouyou was not missing. She quit. And is now at the Agency, along with her young mentee. Second, this must all be some kind of ploy, because there’s a huge banner strung up across the roof that reads: INTERVENTION: WHY QUITTING THE MAFIA IS A GREAT IDEA!
He looks to Kouyou, who smiles fondly at him, to Gin and Ryuunosuke who look a lot healthier since they started working here, and finally lets himself face Dazai, who’s grinning boldly.
“What’s going on here?” Chuuya asks.
“Can the chibi not read? Clearly this is an intervention!”
“But. Why?”
“So you come work here,” Ranpo says like it’s obvious. “I’ll let you bake stuff during work hours.”
“I’m not a detective,” Chuuya reminds them all. That’s kind of an important part of this whole thing.
“Neither am I,” Kouyou replies. “After some debate, I’ve agreed to work as their secretary — and office security.”
“Huh. So. You actually quit?”
“I was given some convincing arguments to do so.” Her gaze flicks to her young charge. The girl is small, hardly a teen.
“I see. But I can’t—”
“Why not?” Dazai’s gaze is piercing, too intense with two visible eyes. “The people you care about are safe, and all here. Mori can’t do anything if you leave now. There’s no one he’ll hurt to get back at you, and if he tries anything against us, I’ll make him wish he didn’t.”
Chuuya shakes his head, taking a step back. This won’t work. Mori is a dangerous man. Crossing him would be a mistake.
“Think about this for a moment, Fancy Hat.” Ranpo, who is now wearing glasses for some reason, grins at him. “With me, Dazai, and Fukuzawa working here, Mori was already giving us space. With you and Kouyou-san here too, he won’t dare try anything. He’s a smart man; working collaboratively and striving for long-term partnership where our organizations help each other is what he’ll want. Then he’ll try to steal the lot of you ex-mafiosos back, but we’ll cross that bridge when we come to it.”
“Wait, he’s from the mafia?” Kunikida asks.
Everyone just looks at the poor guy for a moment.
Dazai clears his throat and pats Kunikida’s shoulder. “So are Ryuunosuke, Gin, Kouyou, and Kyouka.” When said people glare at him pointedly, he chuckles. “Ah, and I suppose I used to work there too.”
“WHAT?! No wonder you had such an easy time blowing up those buildings! You— you scoundrel!”
“Wanna know my worst crime?” Dazai grins slyly. “I never went to school, so I never took math.”
Kunikida wails dramatically enough Chuuya almost thinks it’s an act.
Still: “You’re not that special, Mackerel. Gin, Ryuu, and I never went to school either.”
“What? This is a serious matter! I will arrange my schedule accordingly. Everyone, please gather around my desk. I have a whiteboard for just this occasion.”
Chuuya finds himself drawn into an impromptu math workshop that he really doesn’t have time for.
But when he tries to leave, Gin grabs his hand, and Dazai latches an arm around his waist. Together, they halt his escape.
“I have to—”
“Shh, just accept that you’re being adopted into the Agency, Chibi.”
“But—”
Chuuya cuts himself off, frowning. It’s such a dumb idea, thinking that they can all just stop working for the mafia. But. Well. This is nice.
Gin let him go once it was clear he wasn’t going to leave, but her other hand is holding Naomi’s. Ryuunosuke is standing behind Gin, pointedly avoiding eye-contact with his chosen rival, Junichiro. Kouyou is talking to Fukuzawa about tea.
And Dazai is still holding him. Gently. Like Chuuya used to think was impossible for them, the two greatest weapons of the Port Mafia.
Maybe…
“Alright.” Chuuya whispers. “I’ll stay.”
Later:
Chuuya and Dazai do not become detective partners — Chuuya takes some time off to recuperate before deciding to accept any field work, and by that time, Kenji has joined the Agency. They are an odd duo, but Chuuya is happy to let Kenji try things his way and be support for when a fight breaks out.
Chuuya makes sure to take time to spar with each of the Agency members, even those who try to escape (Dazai and Ranpo) to make sure everyone’s self-defence skills are kept up.
When Atsushi arrives later that year, Ryuunosuke finds himself with a new rival: one who is harder to deal with since his sister keeps sending him little knowing looks. Junichiro is a little jealous he’s lost his spot as the number one rival-friend, until he walks in on Atsushi and Ryuunosuke making out after an argument. Then he’s not so bothered.