Archive of Our Own ^beta

The Agency buzzed with a sense of urgency when Dazai walked into work that day. He was actually on time for once, but that didn’t seem to matter to those around him. Of course he knew why, how could he not? It wasn’t everyday that the Port Mafia - executives, boss and all - dragged themselves down from their extravagant towers to meet with one of the other members of the triumvirate that governs Yokohama.  

It certainly wasn’t everyday that they did so to finalize a peace treaty between the two organizations.

Dazai sighed as he sat down at his desk and watched his blond partner scurry around the room, barking at everyone to do this or that. The man didn’t tell the other ability user to do a thing, too worried that he would mess up the cleaning process simply by being in the vicinity of it. Dazai knew that there wasn’t really much that the Agency members could do to make the office look nice in the time that they had been given to do so. He also knew that nice wasn’t really in the deck for this place, but when even the mafia grunt’s offices were more lavish than the most expensive decorations in the room. It was a hopeless perusing, but it kept the Agecny members busy so Dazai let them have at it. 

Until there was a knock at the door. 

The President moved swiftly to answer the door as the other Agency members pretended to be working rather than cleaning as they all, sans Ranpo who was in a similar situation to Dazai, had been doing.

Dazai got to his feet as the mafiosos walked into the office, taking each of them in. He was quick to spot the Akutugawa siblings ar the front of the mass of members, the slug and Hirostu following silently behind the pair, with the boss bringing up the rear. 

Dramatic as ever, Dazai noted, nodding his head to the eldest man of the group as the mafiosos were shepherded into the meeting room. The other ability user nodded back, looking as if he was suppressing a long suffering sigh. The bandaged covered man figured that he would need to tack the older man out to another meeting at a museum, maybe one with statues this time that Hirostu seemed to like, rather the paintings that Dazai did.

The office door closed tightly shut. Not a moment later the blond ability user was ushering everyone towards him, a finger to his lips.

”Everyone should remember exactly who it is that are on the other side of that door,” Kunikida said acting as if anyone present could ever forget. “Just because they are here for a peace treaty doesn’t mean that they aren’t still a danger to each of us.”

Dazai wanted to roll his eyes at the taller man’s statement. The Port Mafia may be filled with murderous bastards, but they kept their word. A promise was the one thing that you’d never have to worry about the mafia breaking. Honestly, Dazai knew that the Agecy needed to be more careful of what wasn’t said, rather than what was. The Port Mafia was a lot like the fair folk in that way, unable to lie so they use careful wording to get just what they want. And if the Port Mafia were fair folk, then Mori would be the Unseelie King. And Dazai would be the prince that slit the king’s throat in the dead of night with an iron blade.

”I want everyone to be careful of what they say,” Kunikida continued, scanning his eyes carefully over his coworkers. Dazai saw the man’s gaze freeze on his and already knew what was to come, he’d been expecting it for a while now after all. “Dazai, I don’t want you to speak at all in there.”

And there it is.

Dazai could see Atsushi looking unsurely between the two older detectives, but a nod was all that it for the boy to speak. “Dazai used to be in the mafia, wouldn’t he know more about dealing with them though?”

Dazai almost wanted the kid cute of thinking that the older man would listen to him. If Kunikida were to have folowed that train of thought, he would have asked Kyouka about Ane-san, an executive of all things. But he didn’t and Dazai wasn’t going to offer up any information either. He only ever spoke of the mafia when it was details that he was sure that the others would figure out anyways as a case went on. Like the curb stomp, everyone else already knew of what the mafia does to its traitors, and those that didn’t - like Atsushi - would have found out anyways sooner or later.

”Kid,” Kunikida started, his voice tired, “Dazai was just some low level thug, he wouldn’t know anything more than we already do.”

Dazai could tell that Atsushi wanted to protest that idea and that Ranpo most certainly knew just how false it was, but no one said a thing and just let the blond detective continue on with his speech.

Much too soon, Kunikida was holding the door to the office open for the Agency members that would be attending the meeting to file inside. Dazai was quick to grab onto Kyouka and Atsushi’s shoulders though before they could go through, ignoring the annoyed glare that he got from his current partner as a result. It didn’t matter. 

“I want you two to listen closely to me, alright?” Dazai asked seriously once the trio was out of earshot. The kids nodded, each of them looking a little unsettled by the older detective’s mood swing. “Right. Kyouka, I don’t want you to speak of things revolving the mafia in the office, not unless asked.” He watched as the girl went stiff and sighed. “The mafia doesn’t take kindly to traitors, just because you were valuable then doesn't mean that they wouldn’t kill you now. Wait for the other members to ask you who and what you known. They won’t listen if they don’t want to anyways, as you just saw.”

Dazai made sure that the girl nodded before looking at the other boy.

”You need to move carefully in there,” Dazai instructed. “Akutugawa has the shortest fuse that I have ever seen the boy posses when it comes to you, but no one else’s past in there has been pretty either.” They wouldn’t be in the maifa if it had been. “Don’t make any sudden moves.” 

Atsuhsi nodded determinedly and Dazai sighed. 

He led the kids to the meeting room, closing the door behind himself before looking at the scene that awaited him. 

The table in the room was a long one, comfortably sitting more people than were ever really housed inside of it. It was full today, leaving only two seats bare of anyone. One was between Ranpo and Kunikida, Dazai’s customary spot as it put him on the outer edge of the little trio that he had somehow been pulled into, Ranpo sitting in the middle with Yosano on his other side. 

The other chair was at the right hand of the Port Mafia boss.

Dazai watched as Mori stood and smiled falsely, “Dazai, so good of you to join us.” 

The detective knew exactly what the other man was trying to do, judging by the confided glances being passed around by the detectives, it was working. He knew the way that this meeting was going to end, it was just a matter of how they reached that conclusion that was the problem. When he saw the red head executive roll his eyes, Dazai’s mind was made up. 

“Mori,” the bandaged detective greeted.

Ignoring the warning glance from his current partner, Dazai walked farther into the room and to the opposite side of the table as his usual place. He wasn’t surprised at all when metal flashed through the air and had already raised his hand to meet it. Soft gasps littered the air as Dazai fiddled with the scaple that now rested between his fingers.

”So childish, Mori,” the detective all but whined as he threw the blade back at the mafia boss before taking his seat at the older man’s side, between him and Chibi.

”How mean, Dazai,” the mafia boss remarked, sounded just as childish as Dazai had accused him of being.

”What the hell are you doing, Dazai?” Kunikida whispered harshly, though it did nothing to hide what was said. 

“Sitting,” the bandaged man deadpanned. 

“You might want to go ahead and get comfortable, Dazai,” Hirostu said not unkindly, almost grandfatherly in nature. “This meeting will be a long one.” 

The detectives looked at the mafioso with confused glances. To them, the way that Dazai was sitting then was the only way that he only ever really did sit. Sometimes he would lounge backwards or lay down forwards, but that was about it. Dazai only nodded though and drew both of his lanky legs up into the chair, leaving one resting downwards while the other supported his chin. Only a l moment later a pen was pushed between the former mafioso’s fingers, and the man immediately started fiddling and playing with it in any way that he could, doing small little tricks that most of the Agency members didn’t recognize but the mafia members didn’t so much as bat and eye at, much too exposed to the sight to be captivated by it anymore. Dazai shot the smaller man a grateful look. The red headed mafioso only looked away from the detective, though Dazai thought that the might have seen a blush there.

”Can we start now?” Dazai asked, his voice slightly colder that the Agecny was used to hearing it, though not enough to draw much more than a glance or two. “I’d like to finish this circus as quickly as possible.”

”Yes. Yes.” Mori said, motioning to the elder Akutugawa sibling to produce the papers.

The President stood to take them from the boy, but the ability user passed them straight to Dazai, much to Kunikida’s dismay.

Dazai accepted them readily, already having his pen uncapped and read through the agreement that the Port Mafia had drawn up with much more seriousness about him than the Agency had ever seen him use before. The blond detective made a strangled noise when Dazai placed his frist mark on the paper, but chose not to say anything in front of the present company.

Eight marks later, Chuuya held no such ideals.

”Come on, Mackerel. There can’t be that much in the wording that you want to fix,” the executive complained, leaning against the younger man’s shoulder with a familiarity that none of them knew that Dazai would allow. Sure, the Agency had seen the bandaged man let the shorter members hide behind him a few times now, mostly Atsushi and Ranpo did so, but no one ever rested their chin on the detective’s shoulder. Dazai never let them close enough to do so.

And yet that was exactly what Nakahara was doing now. 

“Come now, Slug,” Dazai chided. “I know your slow, but surely you must have figured out that this is just a test for the boss to see how sharp my skills are after so much time away. Gin has the real agreement if you want to see it so bad.” The detective seemed to paise for a moment before shrugging. “Though I suppose answer key would be a better choice of term.”

The older ability user grumbled something unintelligible, but didn’t move from his place. 

The Agnecy could only stare.

Because to them this was wrong. Their Dazai didn’t act like this. He never even touched paperwork if he could so much as help it. 

And yet here he was treating it almost like some kind of game, a tricky little puzzle instead of the peace agreement that it was. 

They continued on like that for another solid five minutes before there was a knock at the meeting room door. 

Gin nodded at the President as she went to answer it, allowing the man to remain sitting, but no one else seemed to notice that exchange. Their eyes were too captivated by the way that the pen in Dazai’s hand spun quickly in his palm until he was holding it like a knife. Chuuya wasn’t much better, having pulled instinctively away from Dazai so that he could use his ability once more.

The pair had just calmed down when they saw who walked through the door.

Chuuya sprung to his feet quickly, a growl in the man’s throat as he lunged at the new comer. The ability user had Ango dangling off of the ground by the front of his shirt by the time that Dazai made it to his partner’s side, the surprised screams of the Agency following his every step.

Dazai placed a hand on the back of the other ability user’s neck, nullifying the man’s gift. Not that it did anything with the current situation as Dazai knew Chibi was just using his own physical strength, but it kept it from being able to escalate much more. 

“Let me go, Nakahara,” the government agent ordered calmly. Chuuya didn’t listen so the man looked to Dazai but found no help their either. “Release me, A5158.” But Chuuya’s hold only grows stronger.

Which was the least that the man had to worry about the moment.

The pen from earlier was pressed firmly into the soft part of Ango’s chin, resting at and angle that would have the man chocking on his own blood in no time if it were to puncture as his brain was pierced as well. 

“Don’t ever call him that again,” Dazai growls pressed the pen in more firmly.

”Dazai,” the President called, but it was as if the other man couldn’t hear him at all.

”Osamu,” a new voice tired. Mori watches with satisfaction as Dazai slowly pulls away from the man.

”Chuuya,” the bandaged detective whispers and, much to the Agency’s surprise, the executive pulls away as well. 

The partners pressed tightly together, their anger evident. They looked like two halves of the same soul singing in harmony as they moved away from the man and into the main office without so much as a word to one another or anyone else. Atsushi thought that he understood the older detective’s advice a little better after seeming what the pair had just done to the newcomer.

The real agreement was signed by both parties without the men there to see it, though Ango had come to act as a witness. The mafia members leave quickly after that. Their cars had barely peeled away from the parking lot before Kunikida turned to his partner angrily. 

“Dazai! What the fuck was all of that?!”

But Dazai, drained and ready to go home and drink himself to sleep, only shrugged and walked to the couch. “I never said that I held a low position in the mafia.”

That day the Agency got a glimpse of what lurked beneath the clown facade that their coworker liked to wear. They weren’t sure that they liked it.