Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

“I don't think he had the book of our world," Ryūnosuke-kun was saying as they sat in the alternate version of the Armed Detective Agency's office. It was strange to be there. It looked exactly like their own, but there were a few differences. "It was more like he… he said he used his ability to create a singularity, and he got your—”

Suddenly, everything seemed to make sense. Well, aside from the fact that an alternate version of Atsushi-kun and Akutagawa-kun appeared in the middle of one their truce meetings. Ryūnosuke-kun had taken one look at Dazai, and tried to kill him, and probably would have if it weren't for Chūya throwing his hand out leading to the two alternates to slam so harshly into a wall that he broke their ribs. Loudly. Everyone except Chūya, Dazai, Kōyō-neesan, Hirotsu-san, and Mori-san had winced at the audible sound of bones breaking. Under normal circumstances, Mori-san would have already ordered the death of someone that dared to impersonate a high-ranking mafioso, but when Chūya sent them flying, Dazai had caught the note that had fallen from Ryūnosuke-kun's pocket. He had read over Ranpo-san's familiar handwriting before passing it over to the older man to who verified that he did not write, and they were actually dealing with an alternate universe.

Now, there they were. Inside the book that had been causing them so many headaches. Though one good thing came from this trip where apparently, he was the cause of everything that went wrong that then led to the second coming of the Dragon Head event that gave Soukoku their infamy.

"I see," Dazai murmured, chin cradled in his hand. He wondered if using his ability like that would work for him. He wasn't a part of the book, but surely the effects would be similar.

"See what," demanded Chūya. Dazai shrugged, not at all concerned with the looks everyone else gave him. He could tell that Mori-san and Chūya himself were coming close to the same realization.

"Well, you know how singularities are created," Dazai replied, and he witnessed firsthand the comprehension settling into his bones. Everyone else looked confused, and while it was a shocking sight on both of Ranpo-san's face, well... singularities were something that the government did their best to hide. "I—he must have been particularly suicidal at the time that he did it."

"Singularities," Ranpo-san repeated.

"Singularities occurs when two Abilities cancel each other out and create something different from either skill," came the explanation from Chūya. His gaze was on his hands, but his mind was back further in the past, and Dazai subtly inched closer, brushing against his leg with his own. "In most cases, one of the Abilities is expected to win over the other. It's also possible albeit rarely where neither party wins."

"In other words," Dazai stated when it was clear that Chūya wouldn't continue. "Singularities occurred when two abilities crash into each other in such a way that they create an infinite paradox. For example, when two users with the ability to see into the future for 5 seconds their abilities created an endless paradox. Like Oda-san over there. One would see the other attacking them and would adjust, while the other would see the adjustment and adjust themselves etcetera; however, at the same time none of the foreseen events would have happened yet as they were still just visions of future creating an endless cycle."

Chūya nibbled on his lip, squinting at Dazai. "However, there is a second way for them to occur and only for certain ability users."

"Like," came this alternate Ranpo-san whose eyes were wide open in interest and curiosity. It was a childlike wonder on his face, and Dazai knew that he and Dazai's own Ranpo-san would be spending whatever time that they could spare learning all about it, and its theoretical application. Nothing else would soothe that interest. Dazai knew that feeling well. 

"Using their Ability on themselves and multiply that use repeatedly until a Singularity occurs," Chūya said, voice dry with disbelief and fond amusement. Dazai allowed a mocking smile to appear on his face. "However, the risk to this is the user being devoured by their own Ability due to the massive amount of energy this Singularity produces."

"So, you're saying..." the alternate version of Kunikida-kun... Doppo-kun's voice trailed off as he looked at Dazai.

"My counterpart used his ability on himself, probably hoping to die from the energy production," Dazai sighed, making a mental note that doing so was clearly not a successful suicide option. "But since this world is within the book, it clashed. The book creates. No Longer Human nullifies. He forced the worlds' fragments to connect, I'm assuming?" Though since his world was not in the book, it should work for him. He'd have to run the numbers later when he wasn't distracted by this situation.

No Longer Human nullified the Book's effects of keeping the worlds separated; keeping the book worlds separated from their world.

The White Reaper nodded his head slowly. "Yes sir. He... He said he connected the worlds, but we were—"

"Never supposed to be connected," Ranpo-san cut in, tapping his fingers on the table. "This world was supposed to follow another path, but because he got our Dazai's memories, he changed everything. I just don't get why?"

He looked at Dazai hoping for a clue, but Dazai refused to look back at him or anyone for that matter.

"Isn't it obvious," came Mori-san's voice, filled with dark amusement. It made Dazai sick to his stomach. It was his fault. This Dazai wouldn't have gone to these lengths if— "Look who is here and who is not." 

Dazai did not have to look up to know that all of those of the Port Mafia; at least those that had been members when he was, had turned their gazes onto Odasa— onto Oda-san. At his side, Chūya tensed, but he didn't say anything.

"I do wonder what else he changed," Mori-san continued. "That’ll help us understand why Chūya-kun isn't helping. He’s one of the most loyal people of the Port Mafia and knows of its role in maintaining the balance of Yokohama."

That was true. Why wasn't Chūya helping? The Dragon Head event had clearly happened in this world. One of the buttons on Odasaku’s shirt was painted purple; no doubt from Sakura-chan's attempt at "painting" or simply playing with her nail polish. From what the alternates had stated, the reason that they came looking for their help was that numerous warlords and illegal organizations from various countries and other cities flew into Yokohama and started trying to carve out territory. The Port Mafia had reached that covered all of Yokohama and half of Tokyo, and while they were still very much in control, they didn't care about anything else allowing the city to be filled with lawless areas with violence and no peace.

If Chūya was the new boss, why wasn't he showing everyone what it was like to be crushed by gravity?

"Um..." the White Reaper said hesitantly. The Demon within Dazai wrinkled his nose. He wasn't sure how he survived the Port Mafia under his tutelage being so hesitant, but Dazai was also thankful for it. He didn't think he would survive it if he had somehow managed to destroy the compassionate nature of Atsushi regardless of the world. "Since looking at my counterpart..."

"You're dead," Akiko-sensei purred in delight towards Mori-san. "Dazai killed you. I heard it was quite messy."

Mori-san laughed in delight, not minding the way that both Angels of Death had grinned with glee at the mention of his death. The Former Doctor settled his eyes on Dazai, and the smile on his face was all knowing. The victory of being right. Dazai saw that smile on his face whenever one of his own plots came to fruition.

"No," Izumi-chan immediately refuted wiping the smiles off each doctors’ face. "Dazai-san faked his death. He sent Atsushi-kun and I to him after he fired us from the Mafia. Hirotsu-san is officially retired from the Mafia, but he is to guard Mori-san."

"Fired," Kyōka-chan repeated in confusion while Mori-san's face contorted as he struggled to make her words make sense. Dazai saw the appeal of leaving Mori-san alive even if he did want him dead for what he did to Odasaku. Though forcing Hirotsu-san from the Mafia didn't make that much sense to him unless... hm.... "You don't get fired from the Mafia."

Izumi-chan shrugged while all of the other alternates aside from the White Reaper looked shocked. Akiko-sensei look faint in terror. 

"Then why does my counterpart not go to Chūya-kun?" Mori-san demanded, turning to the only two people that knew of his continued survival. 

"Chūya-san isn’t interested in talking to anyone. He threw Kyōka-chan and I out the window," Nakajima-kun stated, a small frown on his face. Chūya looked sick, apologetic eyes landing on both Kyōka-chans. "And I think he thinks Mori-san is actually dead. Dazai-san faked his death really good."

Dazai would allow for nothing less, after all.

"Me and the weretiger apparently switched places," the Silent Mad Dog stated, bringing them back on track. Dazai observed him, taking in the difference between this one and his own. "In your world, it seems that he joined the Agency while I am in the Port Mafia with Gin."

"'With Gin'," Akutagawa-kun repeated, sharing a look with his sister. "She did not join with you or well, you did not join with her?"

"No," the boy snarled, moving his gaze to Dazai. This alternate version of his former protege glared at him with such a hatred that even Dazai was startled by it. He had never seen the boy look at him or anyone; not even Atsushi-kun, that way even in the midst of the training that he gave. "Dazai kidnapped her. He said that until I learned why I was weak then he was going to keep her."

A part of Dazai wanted to ask if he learned, but he figured that it wasn't the time for that, and he wasn't positive the boy wouldn't try to kill him despite their tentative agreement.

"And now, she’s gone missing." His face crumbled in grief before sighing. "The Port Mafia has also gone through a security changed that can’t be breached even if you somehow make it to the doors."

"Oh," Kōyō-neesan's voice rang out pleasantly, managing to defuse the tension in the room. Her elegance was useful for diplomatic meetings, and it made it easy for people to forget how dangerous that she could become. "Like what?"

"Electrical fences," came a familiar voice that Dazai only heard in his memories. He found himself choking on his breath. He hadn't... It had been four years. Four years, and Dazai found himself horrified to realize that he was beginning to forget how Odasaku sounded. "And a laser forcefield. Apparently, Nakahara-san brought it back during his last mission before the Mafia Boss' suicide. He took on his new role, had the defenses fitted barely two weeks after he came back. From what Ango managed to tell me, the few spies that the Government had managed to sneak in had managed to note the security changes, but before they could even report them..." 

He trailed off, face twisting into a grimace. "They were found out and killed brutally. Bones crushed, brains splattered, hearts ripped out, organs squeezed or smushed or juiced. Their corpses were placed on the steps of The Special Division's front steps. Inside out in some cases. Nakahara-san apparently tracked each one down, killed them himself, and delivered them to Ango so that he could see what happened and warned the government to not try it again."

"Good riddance," Chūya murmured, eyes close as he leaned back in his seat despite the wary way that everyone from both Agencies looked at him.

"So let me get this straight…" Kunikida-kun started, and Dazai was resisting the urge. Truly. Odasaku's safety depended on him being serious alongside whatever weird thing was going on with this chibi. "This … Dazai kidnapped Gin, pushed Akutagawa to the agency, and took Atsushi on as his first protege. That's the start, right?"

"Yes," the White Reaper nodded sharply.

"What happened in the Port Mafia," Mori-san questioned him. "With him as the Boss?"

Of course, the man would only be considered with his precious Mafia. He didn't care about the lives that would be ruined because of it.

"He picked me up from the orphanage, made Gin-chan his secretary, and he demoted all the executives," Nakajima-kun explained. "Only Nakahara-san was left. He made him his right-hand man."

"It makes sense," Kōyō-neesan smiled, her voice turned teasing. Dazai and Chūya both rolled their eyes though he knew that the older man agreed. It had practically been a given when he was in the Mafia. It was what their partnership was about. The two of them were supposed to lead it together. "Though, I must admit that I am a bit offended."

"Um..." Nakajima-kun trailed off, avoiding her eyes. 

"You're dead," Edogawa-san stated bluntly. 

That wiped the smile off of her face, and the Port Mafia tensed. Dazai could feel Chūya flinching at his side, saw the way that Kyōka-chan's face dropped in a complicated feeling of terrified yet relieved grief that she hurried to hide, and well, he could not deny his own feelings on the matter. He hoped she had died from something like a sickness because the idea of something skilled enough to kill her was unimaginable. There was a reason that she was an executive; she was an assassin in her own right with full control over her ability, skilled in various forms of poison, and a swordsman to rival Fukuzawa-dono.

"What," Kōyō-neesan said.

"You, um, died when they were seventeen, I think," Izumi-chan's brow furrowed. "Yes, when they were seventeen. I... The only mafiosi I recognize from your world are Gin-chan, Chūya-san, Dazai-san, Hirotsu-san and Mori-san. The rest of you are either dead or never joined and even then, well I barely talked to anyone other than Dazai-san and Atsushi-kun."

Nakajima-kun looked down at his hands. "It was an accident. I-I didn't..."

Upon the Tainted Sorrow flared, pressing down on them before it settled back under its owner's skin.

Dazai grimaced. What did his counterpart do? Kōyō was his sister-figure.

Wait...

His thoughts trailed off because if none of them were around that meant... Beside him, Chūya tensed, turning slowly to look at him.

"That means," Hirotsu-san's voice trailed off, and his eyes moved over to...

"That means that Chūya-dono is alone in the Mafia," Gin-chan finished, face crinkled in distress behind her mask.

Chūya didn't say anything even as the other mafiosi flinched at those words. He was too busy staring a hole in the side of Dazai's head, and Dazai refused to look at him. The picture was coming together, and he saw how it came to these kinds of conclusions. He didn't know if the feeling in his stomach was because he was sick at the implications or because if he had walked this path, he would do the same. If he could get his Odasaku back....

The Agencies looked confused because they could tell that meant something, but the rest of them couldn't... wouldn't answer their silent inquires.

"What about the Young Bloods?" Kōyō-neesan asked urgently, eyes flicking over to Chūya who was still not saying anything. "Piano Man? Lippmann? Albatross?"

"I don't who those people are," Nakajima-kun said regretfully.

"The actor Lippmann? He was a mafioso." Akiko-sensei looked shocked.

"He died about six years ago," Edogawa-san mused, leaning back with his glasses perched on his nose. "No one knew how."

"What about Paul Verlaine," Chūya asked, eyes still not leaving Dazai's face. "The King of Assassins. He was the one that murdered him."

"Hm, I haven't heard that name in a while. I believe he was killed by Mafia." Yukichi-dono stated as he crossed his arms over his lap. He paused before nodding his head once. "Yes, he was. Chief Taneda brought me some reports on the incident. It's how they received their skilled business permit after they got tipped off on a Europol agent trying to smuggle their way into Japan."

"So, no Adam," Chūya began softly in a way that spoke of his building anger. "No Flags. No Ane-san. No Mori-san and Elise-chan. No Hirotsu-san. No Akutagawa. Barely Gin-chan. Only a fish-eyed bastard, and a corrupted ability."

"Chūya …" Dazai said helplessly. He didn't do it, but if given the chance... 

"Mafia members are trained in hand-to-hand combat and weapon handling to not be overly dependent on their abilities," Chūya continued, frost creeping into his words. Dazai furrowed his brows, trying to figure out Chūya's angle. When he did, he let his features fall into a perfect blank mask and Chūya clicked his teeth in disapproval. "Some gifted users even hide their abilities when they join, so to not stack the Black Lizard command squads, we have no active heavy hitters. Not like me. Not like Hirotsu-san, Ane-san, or Akutagawa."

The understanding dawns on the faces of both Ranpo-san's and the other mafiosi. The Mafia had ability users that had the potential to be heavy hitters, but they weren't trained to use their powers in that way. They were trained to be a unit and move in stealth when needed. Ability users were rarely stealthy, and active gifted fighters even less so. It was an oversight that Dazai had been slowly working through when he was in the Mafia. The only unit that did work well with the abilities; hidden and known, were the Flags or those under Dazai's direct command.

"No weretiger. No Kyōka-chan. Hell, is Q even alive?" Chūya continued, and Dazai sensed more than he saw the way that he flexed his hands to keep from clenching them into fists.

"Can someone explain," Yosano-sensei started to complain before Higuchi-chan shushed her very harshly. 

"All of this for a dead man," Chūya murmured, and yet they were the loudest in the room. 

Dazai fought off a flinch. "Chūya..."

But the man only scoffed, standing to his feet, and headed for the doors.

"Chūya!" Dazai called out, eyes wide. He had expected Chūya to punch him or yell at him. He had expected him to do something but not leave. Yet, that's what was happening as the ginger slammed opened the door so strongly that it began to fall off its hinges. 

The silence that rang out was so loud.

"What just happened," Atsushi-kun asked while the mafiosi were brimming in agitation.

Mori-san stared at the broken door, fingers twiddling with a scalpel. "Chūya-kun just realized that this version of Dazai-kun successfully isolated him and crippled the Port Mafia all for Oda-san." Dazai grimaced. "He made Chūya-kun miserable."

Dazai flinched even as Mori-san tucked his scalpel back into his inner suit pockets. The man's gaze didn't move from the doors, looking as if he wanted to chase down his executive which was strange. Dazai didn't know Mori-san had the ability to care about anything that wasn't his own interests.

"He used..." Kōyō-neesan trailed off, and her voice was vibrating with her own fury. Kyōka-chan stiffened at the sight of the elder woman's innate bloodlust and Tanizaki-kun flinched, remembering how close she had come to killing him. "He used to wonder if Oda-san mattered more to you than him."

Dazai blinked. That wasn't... Chūya had hated him in the Mafia, and they had an understanding. Dazai barely had the ability to care when he was a mafioso. There was no matter of who was more important. Chūya was his reason to live, the reason that he learned why he was alive, and Odasaku was his friend; he meant the world to him. There was no comparison.

"He wondered what worth he had in your life." He was Dazai's partner. One of his best friends for all that neither of them would ever admit it. "I mean you did defect from the Mafia because of Oda-san even after you manipulated Chūya-kun into joining."

Dazai flinched because he knew that fact was the biggest point of tension between him and Chūya. Chūya hadn't really cared that he defected; at least Dazai didn't think that he did, but he did care that he exploited the Sheep's lack of trust in him to trick Chūya into joining only for him to leave him behind three years later.

"He eventually made peace that they meant different things to you and put it out of his mind. Even now, you still call him your partner." Kōyō-neesan sounded livid, and the teacup in her hands was straining in her grip, so close to crumbling. "But this? An entire world dedicated to making sure he lives peacefully while my Chūya suffers. Has he not suffered through enough?"

"Kōyō-san," Hirotsu-san began reproachfully. He wouldn't look at Dazai either. "It is not fair to blame this Dazai-san for the mistakes of his counterpart."

"Maybe not," Kōyō-neesan sniffed, placing her teacup down. "But Chūya has realized that if this Dazai had the chance to do it all again… to make sure his precious Odasaku lived…" Dazai flinched. She didn't need to say it, but her words were coated in poison as she continued. "He’d sacrifice anyone to make it happen, especially Chūya. You would give up everything for a man that's not..." She snarled, and her hands flexed as if she wanted to wring his neck. "Chūya wasn’t made for the darkness, but he made it his home. And yet you, who was practically born to be in it, whose blood drips the most in the black of the mafia, would leave us all to ruin for a man that walked in the shadows of the light."

"That's not fair, ane-san," Dazai protested. It was more complicated than that. Dazai wouldn't. He wouldn't. He couldn't. "That’s—"

"Don't call me that," Kōyō-neesan sneered, glaring at him with teary eyes.

Dazai blinked, freezing as he stared at her. He felt—He felt wide-eyed and frazzled, breathless. 

"This is a grief which I shall never forget as long as I live…" Kōyō-neesan stated, and those tears streamed down her face. "But that’s just the way of the world. It is either treacherous or illusory, either illusory or selfish…" She was breathing heavily, and Dazai felt as if he was drowning within her tears. She was right and wrong. He wouldn't... He couldn't... "And always disgusting…"

"Nee-san," Dazai murmured. She was his sister. His big sister. He didn't want to disappoint her any more than he did when he defected even though she had told him it was the right decision for him, but—

"My little brother did not kill me," she snarled, eyes flashing in pain and a rage directed at someone long dead yet wore his face. "Nor would he be sitting here in my face imaging my death for a world... for a man long dead."

"What... what does she mean?" Tanizaki-kun asked hesitantly.

"She means that while Dazai-kun does not have the power to bring the Oda-kun of our world back to life." And why did Dazai feel ashamed of the disappointment that he could hear in Mori-san's voice? He had long since stopped caring about the man's opinion, and yet this was enough to make him feel like a child. "He is imagining how different things would be if he lived. I’d imagine he’d be contemplating a way to make it happen. Do be careful to not let get ahold of the book if we find it in our world."

"That's not—" he began to protest, tongue heavy. He couldn't... "Odasaku wouldn't—"

"The only reason that you would not being because of him says more than enough," drawled Kōyō-neesan, vibrating with her fury. She stood gracefully from her seat, grabbing a hold her umbrella as she turned to leave. "If you'll excuse me, I must find my younger brother. Both of them."

She walked out of the room with her head held high, and once again it was silent. The Port Mafia members gaze at him with disdain though he knew their feelings were a bit more complicated. It just—most of them had lived through his defection once, and to know that he would manipulate their lives to something worse all for the sake of his deceased friend, and the only reason he won't put in the effort was because that friend wouldn't want him to. 

Dazai couldn't meet anyone's eyes; not even the Agency who were probably wondering if he'd abandon them too for the sake of a dead man. He needed to breathe. He needed to think. He was feeling restless, but he didn't think any of them would appreciate it if he just flopped on the ground to roll around as he tried to get himself together. Only Chūya understood, and he only complained because it made him dizzy and he didn't like the fact that Dazai was covering himself in germs as if the younger wasn't living in a shipping container on the port back then. Though he supposed that Chūya did worry over the biohazard that would happen combining those two facts.

"So," and Dazai stiffened at that oh so familiar drawl. Odasaku. "We really were friends in another world."

"What do you mean?" Doppo-kun asked, turning to his coworker and work partner.

Oda shrugged, eyes looking at Dazai curiously. “I spoke to him. The old boss. About a day before he died. Met him at a bar.”

"Bar Lupin,” Dazai sighed, slumping in his seat. “Yeah. Me, you, and Ango used to go for drinks there.”

What happened?” Oda asked.

“Mori-san happened,” Dazai snapped, eyes glaring at the Mafia Boss.

The man had the audacity to blink. "Me," the doctor said, pointing at himself before laughing lightly. "I will not deny my hand in the situation, Dazai-kun. I did set everything up, after all. However, I thought you would have understood by now that I would not have had the chance to do so if your dear friend, Ango-kun, had not infiltrated the Mafia to begin with."

"What," Oda said, looking between the two, but Dazai was more focused on trying to actually kill Mori-san with his eyes.

"I met Odasaku when I was sixteen. I was the one to recruit him into the Mafia." Akutagawa-kun shifted, and he wondered if the boy was feeling some type of way to know that he was not the first person that Dazai brought in. While he did technically recruit Chūya, everyone usually credited Randō-san with his entry; a thing signified by that stupid hat alongside the fact that Dazai "officially" joined only a few days before him, so it didn't count to most. "He didn't want to kill anyone anymore, and I respected his choice. Because of that though, he could never rank higher than being assigned grunt work. Sometimes he played bodyguard for Mori-san but that was just because of his ability and a very rare occurrence. We met Ango at Bar Lupin. The three of us would go out all the time drinking. We were friends. Best friends even when the other Mafia members found it strange that the lowest ranking member was so close to an executive."

"That executive was you," Oda noted.

"Yeah," Dazai nodded his head tiredly. He didn't... Maybe coming to this world was a mistake. He didn't want to relieve his dark past. Not like this. "A few weeks after your twenty third birthday… we were at Bar Lupin again. Ango came late. I managed to deduce that he was a traitor. I thought he was selling information but in reality…"

"In reality, he was a triple agent," Mori-san picked up. "The Special Divisions Department sent him in to spy on the Mafia." Rolling his eyes as if it weren't for good reason even if Dazai felt ashamed for not figuring it out sooner. "I found out, and I decided to use him to get the Port Mafia a skilled business permit. I had him spy on a rival group named Mimic."

"Dazai-san wiped them out," Nakajima-kun said. Dazai wasn't surprised. He would have gotten rid of them long before they could become a problem. "He and Chūya-san led the raid."

Dazai winced as the gazes of the mafiosi turned heavier. Using Chūya's skill and strength against the group that killed Odasaku and the orphans. Gods, did his counterpart really not give a shit about him?

"I'm not surprised," Mori-san snorted.  "Anyway, I sent Ango-kun to spy on them, and when they came to Japan, establishing hostility with the Mafia, I had Ango-kun set up a meeting with Chief Taneda. In return for getting a permit, the Port Mafia would cooperate with wiping out Mimic. And we did."

"All at the cost of Odasaku," Dazai sneered.

"Ah, but Dazai-kun, you admitted that it made sense," Mori-san smiled, folding his hands carefully in his lap. "From a logical standpoint, there wasn't anything wrong with me helping earn the Mafia a victory at the expense of a single low-ranking mafioso that refused to kill."

Dazai nodded his head. "Yeah, it did make sense, but Odasaku was my friend."

"One man in comparison to hundreds," Mori-san refuted. "Your sentimentality clouds your judgement even now. If it weren't anyone else... if it were any other member and not your little friend, you would not have spared the operation a glance."

"Maybe not," Dazai shrugged. Well, actually, he knew that he wouldn't. It wouldn't have been interesting enough for him aside from wondering whose ability was stronger out of Odasaku and Gide. "But even I wouldn't have leaked the orphans' location to Mimic and got them killed."

"What," Oda-san said, a hint of anger in his voice that Dazai rarely heard from his old friend. It screamed danger, but Dazai could only find safety in it.

"Ah, but that wasn't my fault either. Not completely," Mori-san smiled. "I did consider that the orphans would push him over the edge and thereby defeat Mimic as our best and only candidate to do so. However, Oda-kun was supposed to be at the safe house before the explosion. His ability would have given him the precious seconds needed to escape the building with the orphans suffering from injuries instead of death. He would have received the closest thing to retirement for a mafioso and full paid expenses from our medical teams. It was his security detail that you, Dazai-kun had given him, that delayed his arrival on their own accord due to their incompetence."

"Odasaku watched the orphans die." Dazai hissed, glaring death at the Port Mafia Boss. "Nothing you say can excuse that."

"I am not. It is a heavy burden to bear for lives to be snuffed so young," the man replied in a mocking tone. Yosano and Akiko-sensei both snorted at that.

"And for the first time in years, Odasaku killed, taking down the majority of Mimic’s remaining forces by himself." Dazai continued with the reasoning for his defection. "He fought against Gide while I was being held back and kept from helping by Mori-san. By the time, I got there..." His eyes slipped closed, fighting against the memories even though he could feel the phantom press of blood against his hands. "I tried to save you, but I only made it in time to hear your final words." 

Right before everyone's eyes, they all watched as Dazai Osamu loss his masks, and suddenly in place of the twenty-two-year-old man that they knew, they were looking at a grieving teenage child. All of them save Mori-san pretended that they didn't hear the pronoun change. "You told me… you me that I would never be able to find anything to bury my loneliness, nor anything that could exceed my expectations. You said to 'be on the side that saves people. If both sides are the same, then choose to become a good person. Save the weak, protect the orphaned.'  You were right. I don't really see a difference between justice or evil; justice can be corrupt, and evil can be moral. I have never, not even once, acted on the basis of any doctrine or philosophy. I am convinced that those people whom the world considers good and respects are all liars and fakes. I do not trust the world. It didn't make a difference to me, but you said that saving others was something just a bit wonderful."

And it was, wasn't it? It wasn't all that different from the Mafia if he was being honest, but he was saving more lives than he was taking. And... and watching the way people built themselves back up from the tragedy was exciting also. It showed him what life had to offer better than anything that the Mafia could do. Well, aside from Kōyō-neesan who turned her grief and trauma into a weapon and strength, and Chūya who refused to drown in the darkness and instead kept reaching for the light within it.

"Dazai-kun defected just a few days later, abandoning Akutagawa-kun in the middle of a mission." His smile was cruel even as the aforementioned boy clenched his fist and looked away. "We didn't hear anything about him again until two years later when he started working at the Agency. It was a surprising turn of events, I must say. Things had been quite boring since your departure." 

Doppo-kun blinked. "But why go to such lengths? You had to know that you would be pushing him away?"

"That was the plan," Ranpo-san commented, eyes dark as he looked at the Mafia Boss. "He couldn't control Dazai anymore. He was learning how to be a real boy, getting friends whose opinions were changing his actions. He probably thought that one day Dazai would kill him and take his spot if it meant keeping his friends safe. He managed kill a lot of birds with one stone. The skilled business permit, the spy from the government, the mafioso that wouldn't kill so he wasn't loyal to their cause, and Dazai was someone he could no longer control and held no true loyalty to him either."

Mori-san nodded his head in agreement, completely shameless in actions. "And I suppose that's why this version of Dazai-kun did not kill my counterpart." The man hummed, shrugging uncaringly. "A power play, I would suspect. Since he was fifteen, I had always figured that taking him in and mentoring him was an oversight on my part. However, I took my mistake and molded it into a valuable discovery. A subordinate and right hand that knew my way of rationalization. In consequence, this version of me would have believe the same thing as I."

"If things continued down the same path," Dazai picked up, easily understanding why his counterpart took these actions after gaining his memories. "This Mori-san would have probably pushed me out in the same way and had Oda-san killed if he had joined the mafia. I suppose having those memories would mean that he manipulated things so that Oda-san wouldn't join. And then instead of killing Mori-san, he allowed the man to live after taking over his position. This would lead Mori-san to spend the next years looking over his shoulder for a knife to the neck while also understanding that it was power play to leave him alive. And if he planned to die, then as much as I hate to admit it, we do think alike on occasion. If your world follows the same path as our own, then you'd need him to finish where I couldn't as best as he could."

"Unfortunately, he seemed to have misstep," Mori-san smiled giddily. "If he really did fake my counterpart's death so well and that it was indeed as messy as Yosano-kun proclaims as he became the next Port Mafia Boss, then he would force Chūya-kun into a state of discontent, not helped by the antagonism that you seemed to get off from in regard to Chūya-kun. He would be torn between his desire to kill him while staying loyal to the Port Mafia, and in return for it, all he would receive is isolation within the Mafia." Dazai stiffened as they returned to a topic that he really did not want to face. "He would have no one to connect with aside from you, and since he is one of the few people that can read you so well, you would make sure that he could not connect with you completely either." Mori-san's smile was dark as he looked at Dazai, and it was like the world faded away. "While making sure this world was safe and where your precious Odasaku can live with his orphans and write his book and keep the Agency strong and overpowering, you would make Chūya-kun feel like he was no longer human."

Dazai stumbled out of his seat, the chair hitting the floor with a loud clang. The others yelped in shock, and as the Agency... his coworkers stood to defend him, the mafiosi guarded their Boss with Elise materializing onto the table in front of him. Other than summoning her, Mori-san didn't even react. He only tilted his head to keep eye contact with that same damn smile.

"You crippled the Mafia for Oda-kun. You placed everyone before Chūya-kun. Not just Oda-kun. You showed Chūya-kun that despite the seven years of partnership, he ranked lower to you than the Agency members that you have only known for two years. In fact, given that this Oda-kun has his orphans and that he met Akutagawa-kun, then the Dragon Head event also happened... Ah, I see. So, you kept him around for his ability. For corruption. You used him just like those that used him in the past."

"That's not..." Dazai's fist clenched, and he was reaching for a gun that was not there. "I didn't..."

His breath was coming heavy, but Mori-san wasn't finished. "Just like Professor N."

"SHUT UP!" Dazai nearly roared. "I didn't... I wouldn't..."

He wouldn't. Not to Chūya. He couldn't... His chest hurt. He couldn't breathe.

"Maybe not you, but a version of you did," Mori-san continued, looking at him in contempt. "And if given half the chance to have your Odasaku back alongside his orphans, you would do so again regardless of the cost. If anything, you'd just try to do it in a way that he would approve of. Your plans do not fail, after all. As expected of the Wraith of the Port Mafia, your blood really does bleed mafia black."

Before anyone else could say anything, the Mafia Boss stood to his feet. “You all can stay here and assist them in a plan to bring this world back underfoot and find a way to disconnect our worlds. I will be searching for my executives.” He made his way out of the room, though before he left through the doors, he stopped. "Do not be mistaken, Dazai-kun. While both of them are hurting, they are hurting more for the Chūya-kun of this world, and the pain that he lives with. Never doubt that the care that they have for you even if they will never admit it aloud."

Dazai didn't bother to reply, forcing himself to calm down. He wasn't like Professor N. He wasn't. He wouldn't use Chūya. Not his other half; his twin in darkness. His hands were shaking, and his breath was coming out in pants. It was... 

Not Chūya.

He wouldn't do that Chūya. No version of him would. It was... Why would this fake version of him do that? Turning himself into some kind of monster... some kind of beast... to do that to Chūya... 

"Dazai," he heard Kunikida-kun asked worriedly. He sensed more than he saw Atsushi-kun walking over to him, but it was the familiar smell of camellias, leather, wood, and spice that was so uniquely Hirotsu-san that caught his attention. The mafioso crouched in front of him, a comforting and grounding hand on his shoulder while he took Dazai's hand to place it on his own pulse. Minute by minute passed that felt like hours before Dazai was calm enough to breathe normally. He wasn't like Professor N. He was Chūya's partner and Kōyō's younger brother. He was a former Port Mafia Executive, and was presently, one of the Agency's Sharpest Detectives.

He wasn't a monster.

The man doesn't say anything. He never did. No matter how many panic attacks, gravity-infused tantrums, blind rage crash outs, chilling torture sessions... he didn't say anything. He only stood at their side, a comforting presence until they came back to themselves.

Everyone else was quiet, staring as he got himself under control. Dazai usually wouldn't lose control like that. He'd never let anyone witness that kind of weak point in him, but things were... complicated. At least from their point of view, and maybe a bit of his own.

"Thank you, Hirotsu-san," he murmured, and the mafioso patted him on the shoulder as he helped him to his feet. He took another deep breath, pushing everything away to compartmentalize later while Hirotsu-san stood on his right, defending his old blind side where the perception was still a bit weak even if it's been four years since he wore a bandage there. Once he was back in control of himself, he picked up his chair and sat back down at the table, ignoring that Hirotsu-san was still standing right beside him. "Let's just fix this." He could talk to Chūya later. "It won't be long before the government tries to call this version of Shibusawa in."

"No, Dazai-san tracked him down years ago," Nakajima-kun said. "A few weeks after he picked me up. He had Chūya-san beat him up then had me crush his skull. He said that he wasn't needed for the final storm."

"What do you know," Dazai said bitterly. "Miracles do happen."

He officially hated this world; a living Odasaku notwithstanding.

Chapter Text

If anyone from before could see Chūya now, they wouldn't believe it. 

He looked so different than the fifteen-year-old boy with the world on his shoulder and the forces of gravity at his control. He didn't look like the boy that once broke in a man in half for simply asking where he was from. He didn't look like a boy that had taken on the Port Mafia all by himself in the defense of other kids, who were now dead just to keep him complacent in his misery.

Now, he sat at his desk with eyes so deadened that they would remind them of his former partner. There was no life to him, no emotions to him. Nakahara Chūya with no emotions was the antithesis of the life equation. He could not not feel, and yet there he was sitting at a desk in an office for a position that he never asked for.

His hands were clasped under his chin, covered by blood red gloves. He was looking out the windows of the—his office as gun fire rang out into the night. It was a familiar sound if he was being honest. It reminded him days from before... Before he exchanged his black gloves for red because he wasn't going to wear a scarf that only spoke of death. Before he lost everything that ever mattered to him; his Boss—Mori-san; not that shitty bandaged bastard, his sister, his Gramps, his friends, and even that dumbass fish-eyed simpleton freak as his partner.

Before he found Dazai's old notes and the plans he made to protect one man.

Some distant part of Chūya felt disgusted that the Port Mafia became some twisted declaration of a failed courting gift to a man that was both dead and alive. 

Nothing made him more disgusted though was to know that everything in his life had been turned upside down because Dazai had attachments issues. He would treat Chūya like a dog; made him his bitch instead of his partner... his equal. After everything that they had been through, Chūya thought he had meant more to Dazai than that, but in the end, that bastard was no better than the government. At least Mori-san hadn't made it a secret that he wanted Chūya to be a weapon, but Dazai... He placated him and mocked by making him his right-hand; he had convinced him that the trust between them was mutual but in the end... 

"You're an executive, and I'm the boss. We have to respect that hierarchy, right? And in the mafia, my orders are absolute."

He wanted Chūya to follow his orders? He wanted Chūya to take over as the Boss and be his perfect little weapon, then fine. He was just going to be one different than what that moron had planned. Arahabaki was a being of calamity and destruction, and that beast was merged with him. He was going to let all of Dazai's hard work to protect that bastard and that shitty agency go to waste as he guided Yokohama from the shadows to destruction.

"My former life replete with ridiculous laughter," he murmured, eyes slipping close as he thought about the boy from before. "Has given way to sentimental darkness and given way to deep fatigue."

If Kōyō-neesan could see him now, she would scold him for his actions. Lippmann would have killed Dazai before it could get to this though he would have had to fight Albatross for it. Ice Man and Doc would've wrestled him into bed. Piano Man would have taken over for him, crushing even the police force and that dumb ass agency without destroying the city in the process.

Mori-san would be disappointed. After the Great War, numerous warlords and illegal organizations from various countries flew into Yokohama and changed the city into a lawless area with no peace. Mori-san was adamant about maintaining the balance of the city and keeping the underworld under control.

A shame that Chūya didn't care about it anymore.

Their lives were snuffed out; far too soon that was true, but at least their lives weren't methodically change beyond comprehension. Even Mori-san and Hirotsu-san got a better ending than Chūya, out there at the orphanage. Chūya tried not to think about how much his life was forcibly changed, but damn...

He was alone.

He was always alone.

What the fuck was wrong with him?

Everyone around him either left or died.

Why couldn't anyone stay?

"Bitterness bred in cruelty comes rushing out in silence..." Chūya sighed, leaning his head on his hand. "I've grown accustomed to it all, and have leaned to bear it."

But did he though? Had he grown accustomed to it, had he learned to bear it, or was he simply bitter?

Mayhap it was both.

He was bitter and he was cruel, but he knew how to weather the storm. He accepted it because he had no other choice. The person deserving of his cruelty had long since left, taking the death that Chūya was owed with him. Well, at least one of them. That damn weretiger was a few years late of being the new pelt on his floor for losing control and killing his nee-san. What use was he to the Port Mafia if he couldn't properly control his ability? He was what thirteen when he murdered her? Chūya had better control of Upon the Tainted Sorrow when was seven and fresh out of the lab. He killed Chūya's sister and received a promotion all while Chūya had been alone in his grief with no one to blame because Dazai covered it up. His nee-san whose chest was clawed out and throat ripped opened because that damn weretiger couldn't tell friend from foe.  His only saving grace was following that bandage waster's words and stumbling off into the protection of Mori-san and Hirotsu-san before Chūya could get his rightful revenge.

But Chūya was all alone.

He wanted to feel something; anger would have been preferable. It was easier to be angry. What would be the point though? His anger could burn hot or cold, but in the end, nothing would change. It was just Chūya thrust into a leader position, his strength and tactics being a guiding light while he crumbled on the inside with questions that had no real answer.

"But sometimes any degree of loneliness can bring you down," he mused to himself, turning to look at the ceiling. Screams rang out into the night, and he sighed in annoyance. Civilians, they make things so bothersome. "And while I cannot know for sure, sometimes it seems as if these tears are no longer tears for having loved someone..."

Two people, both not quite human in some ways, but human in the ways the other isn’t, coming together in a partnership during the time of their youth. Two people standing on the ledge of humanity, but when did those ledges get barriers. When did those ledges separate? When did it become them against the world to Chūya being uprooted and untethered while he planted his roots in a life that didn't exist.

Taking a deep breath, he let it out slowly. There was no point of pondering the past or someone whose care became transactional. Chūya built his life back once. He could do it again. Besides, what was he hoping for? An apology? There was nothing that bastard could say that would change anything. He kept Chūya around for selfish reason; to keep him company to distract him from the conclusion of a story that wasn't just his to write. He made Chūya a weapon, through and through. Truthfully, he hoped that asshole was rotting away with the truth of what he did. He wanted the memories of both lives to sting until the consequences of his actions melt into his skin. Chūya hoped that the hurt that Dazai caused and the trust that he destroyed tore him apart. 

No, he hoped it stayed and lingered within his soul. Not even for revenge though Chūya would be in the right to cause pain for what his life had become. Chūya already had the seeds of revenge in place for that. No, Chūya wanted Dazai to feel that shattered trust and aching hurt so he could understand what it felt like to be broken by someone that had once believed in him.

Hell, that's if the bastard actually cared about Chūya enough to feel it.

With the way that his life was looking, it was unlikely. 

From the moment that they met, he had thought that the two of them were following down a better path that Randō-san and his partner "Paul". When he joined the Mafia and the hours they spent in the arcades, he thought that they could be better and that they could do what the two of them failed. They were coworkers, partners, and best friends even if neither would have used that word. He had always known that as long as he had Dazai at his side, then he didn't have anything to worry about.

Funny how Dazai was the one that he should have been worrying about.

He wondered what the bastard had been thinking. Did he ever feel bad for what he did to Chūya... to Kōyō-neesan? Did he grieve her? Did he grieve for the bond that they once shared? Did he know that he cut out of part of Chūya's heart, his soul, and took it with him down a path that he purposely walked alone? The one person that Chūya thought would protect him from the world was the one to ruin him more than the world did.

It didn't matter anymore.

Though he supposed he wished that despite everything, a part of him didn't still care for him. Chūya was committed to make sure Dazai returned home alive and whole every time and would have never sacrificed the man, and yet he saw Chūya as nothing more than a piece in a game of chess against himself. He would have dragged Satan from the depths of hell and offered his throne to him and Dazai had only saw it as nothing more than what he was owed from Chūya. He had saw the younger as an equal and in return, he was seen as nothing more than a servant.

All of this just for one man.

Chūya reached into the desk for a wine flask as he tried to imagine what he would have done to have his ane-san back or even the Flags since it was after their deaths that everything went to hell. Who would he have sacrificed? The Dragon Core? He probably would not have been so close to them if the Flags were still around, but he couldn't imagine sacrificing any of his men for another. Piano Man would skin him alive for it anyway. He wasn't close to anyone else to give them up. Loneliness was an unbearable hell, yet it was much better than the multiple masks of humans. He supposed that it was very telling that Dazai; the one who did it to him and acted like he was some demon sent from the depths of hell, was not a choice on his end. 

The sound of something repeatedly hitting their defenses was pissing him off. He sneered. He had already thrown that damn weretiger and off brand version of his ane-san off the premises once. He'd do it again especially since he already warned those brats that if they came back, he'd give them the standard procedure for traitors. No one got fired from the Port Mafia, and Dazai was dead. His orders were irrelevant. 

Anyone else would be stupid to attack their main base. Chūya may have been emotionally exhausted but that didn't mean he didn't have some energy to work through. He was always up for a good fight though he doubted he would get one.  As much as it pained him to admit it, the only people within Yokohama that would be worth fighting were at that shitty agency. At least the ones that he knew about because he highly doubted that Suribachi City didn't have people worth fighting. He would know. He grew up there, and there were a few people that had been worth fighting or well sparring because they were worth keeping alive due to how much fun he had. Even the mafiosi were going through training to make it to his standards since that fish-eyed bastard crippled them for his precious Oda-san. They needed more heavy hitters instead of simple combat squads, so he made them train their abilities until they puked.

He didn't need any other accidents like that damn weretiger "accidentally" killing his ane-san because he was too stupid to not recognize his allies. He won't be covering up anyone's death because he valued one member over another like Dazai.

His ane-san would cry if she knew what Dazai; one of her little brothers, did to her.

Plus, aside from everything else, Chūya knew that no one had figured out that he started this whole thing, so he had to make sure the members were ready when it was time to end it. He drained nearly all of Dazai's personal offshore accounts, and the ones that he had set up for damn assassin and his brats. He casually placed the money around the city, and just let the whispers do the work for him. One month later, Yokohama was at war with itself, and the Port Mafia was reaping the benefits. That stupid Agency and shitty Special Divisions Department had attempted to get Chūya to agree to an alliance, but Chūya sent them away also. The Agency could kiss his ass, and that Special Divisions Department were content that the Port Mafia had no intention of joining making the situation worse so they let it go too. 

Chūya scowled at the sound of multiple hits and explosions to that stupid forcefield continued on. He figured he should find out what was going on, beat the shit out of whoever had the nerve to lay a hand on Port Mafia's turf, and then sit back and watch as the rest of the city destroyed itself until it was time for cleanup. 

Chūya made his way out of the office, ignoring the guards that stood in the hallway. His hands slipped into his pockets as he foregone the elevator to jump down the stairs, allowing his ability to catch him before he broke his bones during the landing. He saw a crowd of mafiosi standing at the door, watching whatever was happening in amusement. Their hands were resting on their guns, but whoever had the guts to attack the Port Mafia headquarters weren't close enough to be a threat so there was no need for bullets to go flying anytime soon.

He spared a nod for the various people that gaped and bowed at the sight of him, waving his hand absently because he was not interested in all that stupid bowing. Making his way out the doors, he paused when he got closer to the edge of the property. He had to blink to make sure that he wasn't seeing things, never mind the rumbling of Arahabaki in the recess of his mind. There was absolutely no way that Kōyō-neesan was standing on the other side of the electrical fence and laser forcefield. He hadn't been drinking enough to hallucinate. There was no way that she was slicing at it, forcing it to be view by the naked eye, as if she could find the adapter to cut it in half, and yet—

Chūya knew Golden Demon; he knew the feel of the ability and he knew without a doubt that the sword-wielding phantom that was attacking the other side of the barriers was real. No one could replicate the feel of that ability so accurately.

His gaze moved over towards Mori-san and Elise-chan, and his brows furrowed because the small amount spying, he had done before showed that the Boss preferred keeping the phantom in the appearance of a grown woman that was nearly the same age as Chūya himself. He hadn't seen Elise-chan this young since Mori-san was still parading her around as his daughter. 

Chūya was sure that this was some kind of hallucination. Maybe a byproduct of Arahabaki getting off to all the destruction that was happening around the city. It was probably to distract him in case the beast tried to take over him by giving him mirages of what he wanted back. The picture was missing a lot of people if he was being honest, so he wondered what the fuck was really going on, but he also really didn't care. It wasn't worth his time, and it was probably some really good illusion ability. Dazai's notes said that there was one in that dumbass agency.

Upon the Tainted Sorrow flared around him in warning when something connected.

"Do you know when it's alright to chicken out and go home? There is no such time."

"You were afraid, weren't you, Mori-san? Afraid I'd cut out your windpipe and assume the boss' seat. Just as you did to the last boss."

"The reason you have so many people following you is that you don't turn your back on them. I'll leave things in your hands. I won't tell the boss."

"So you're the one behind all this, Piano Man? You have the lamest sense of humor." 

"Heh. What? Didn't think I was gonna make it, Lippmann?"

"I'm gonna find him, but I won't let you arrest him. I'm gonna kill the man myself. You murder someone's family, the Mafia's gonna make you pay."

"Have you forgotten the rules of the Mafia, boy? Blabbing would be a death sentence."

"I dedicate my blood—my everything—to you, boss. I will protect this organization you slave over and work myself to the bone in order to decimate its enemies. Those who oppose the Port Mafia will learn firsthand how ruthless gravity can be."

"The great Dazai would never allow himself to be caught out of sheer negligence. If you were that incompetent, I'd have killed you long ago."

"So this is how you wake Snow White? Kinda violent, don’t you think?”

"We'll cross that bridge if we need to. If the boat is so easily tipped over, the best course of action would be to destroy it now in a blaze of glory."

"Chūya's gonna kill N at this rate and lose his humanity, but I want to see him suffer as a human."

“I’ve got a hundred and ninety methods for exacting my revenge on him, and this is the second mildest out of ‘em all.”

"You messed with the wrong guy, Verlaine, I know exactly how to deal with someone who can manipulate gravity. Day in and day out, I’ve spent every waking and sleeping moment thinking about how I can annoy Chūya."

“Did you use Corruption because you believed in me? You’re gonna make me cry…”

“The night you disappeared from the organization, I opened a bottle of Petrus 1889 to celebrate. That's how much I hate you, bastard.”

"What a glorious view! Even better than some costly painting!"

"We've been known as the Double Black...since the night we annihilated the enemy organization along with all the surrounding buildings with Tainted. However, if I step in too late, you'll die. Your call.”

"The leader of an organisation is at the pinnacle of it and, at the same time, he is its slave. The leader must be more than willing to commit any atrocity in order to ensure the organisation’s survival."

“Anything that I never want to lose is always lost. This is it's always been for me. Everything worth wanting is lost the moment I obtain it. And nothing I pursue is worth the cost of prolonging this life, this suffering." 

"'To protect this world, I can't lose either the Port Mafia or Chūya,'" came the mocking reply from a man that looked exactly like him; Chūya's counterpart if the memories that he just witnessed were true. The bastard was smoking a cigarette leaning on Chūya's imported car that had apparently been delivered without his notice while throwing debris at the forcefield. "That walking bag of bandages had always been a good liar."

Chūya stood still for a moment before reaching into his besom pocket for the keycard that would temporarily disable the systems. Both barriers flared, solidifying and becoming visible for the time being, just long enough for them to walk through before he reactivated the system. He stared at them silently before Upon the Tainted Sorrow flared once more, and he was shooting them into the sky back towards his very much unwanted office. It took barely any effort to open the windows from the outside, and soon they were standing within it.

The group stared at each other silently for a moment, taking in the difference between him and his counterpart while he desperately kept the emotions that he felt at seeing his nee-san once again locked tightly away.

"Oh, my sweet lad, what did that foolish boy do to you," Kōyō-neesan stated, moving over to him determinedly. She wrapped him in a tight hug, and for a moment, Chūya was stiff until all the tension seeped out. He could cry at the combination of her Jasmine and Peony perfume that he hadn't smelt in years. Five years, and he almost forgot the sound of her voice, and the scent of her perfume, and he didn't think he could ever forget her. She was his ane-san. It wasn't fair.

How could that bastard allow her to die?

How could let her suffer while his stupid friend lived?

How... why...? 

Chūya kept his hands balled into fists even as he relaxed further into her hug. She wasn't his ane-san, but by gods, did he wish that she was.

"I must say Chūya-kun, your gloves are quite tasteful," came from the alternate version of Mori-san. "It suits you well."

"Makes it easier to hide bloodstains when he punches people," Elise-chan giggled.

"Tch," his alternate scoffed, eyes alight with fury. "Still doesn't do anything for his face. Look at him. He looks like that shitty mackerel."

"Chūya," Kōyō-neesan chided before turning back to him. "He does have a point, lad. Your eyes are so empty. Hollow, like a bottomless pit of darkness."

"It would seem like Dazai-kun took any light from you," Mori-san observed. "And turned your blood as black as his own."

Dazai may have been born to be a mafioso, but it was clear that he made Chūya one in this world. That other Chūya seemed so normal, so human while Chūya himself felt like some kind of beast.

"Why did you come here," Chūya asked after finally finding his voice. "I saw... Your memories showed you with that prissy agency. I'm not working with them or dragging the Port Mafia into that war." 

"As the Wardens of the Night," pedophile Mori-san began. "The Port Mafia has a duty to keep the balance of Yokohama stabilized."

Chūya shrugged, twirling a pen in his hands. "If that shitty agency and Special Divisions Department want to destroy themselves for a loss cause, then that's on them." It wasn't like he didn't plan for the Port Mafia to reap the benefits either way. The gangs killed themselves meaning less enemies, absorb those that were leftover, and he got two wannabe holier-than-thou government associated bastards out of the picture.

Sounded like a dream come true to him, and Chūya didn't dream. 

"Let them die. I don't care," Chūya declared. "The mafia at its core is an economic exchange using violence as currency. Anything can be requested. Anyone can be killed. My job is to ensure the prosperity of the Port Mafia. If it meant letting the rest get destroyed, that's fine. I know a thing or two about destruction."

"So, you're just going to let that bastard win?" The other Chūya asked, though "asked" was too light of a word.

Chūya hummed, absently swirling his tumbler to gauge how much he had left. "What?"

"You're going to let Dazai win?" His counterpart demanded, looking thoroughly disgusted. "He what? Isolated you. Treated you as nothing more than a weapon." The other man looked both infuriated and like he would turn into that same weapon that they were to teach him a lesson. "You're going to let him keep you down. Prove that you're nothing more than a dog waiting for his orders. Fuck him! He’s dead."

Laughing, Chūya shook his head. "His orders? No." Chūya was done following Dazai's orders. "His orders were to make sure that the Agency survived. Make sure that his precious friend lived. He expanded the Port Mafia to make sure that we took out anyone that would threaten that. He made me and mine his sword and shield for his precious Odasaku then discarded everything once he got the pieces of his puzzle in line." He laughed again, a dark and broken thing. Chūya knew without looking how closely he resembled Mori-san. His smile was cold, eyes freezing, and he was nothing like his counterpart. The man that stood with gloves the color of blood was a god of death and destruction, an incarnation of wickedness that wandered aimlessly, showed signs of cruelty through vast amounts of death. "But he seemed to forget how weapons work. If guided by another hand, it could turn on them."

Mori-san and Kōyō-san seemed confused, but there was no one that knew that Chūya better than himself, not even any version of Dazai Osamu. 

"You started this war," his counterpart breathed, eyes wide with horror before even that faded. He looked almost impressed. "To keep the Port Mafia's hands clean and not risk losing the license, you're letting all the other gangs do all the fighting instead. You're going to let the military police and agency run themselves ragged trying to fight them off."

He was the Boss of the Port Mafia now, and as the leader of the darker side of Yokohama, he had to occasionally make cruel decisions and give out orders accordingly. Maybe those decisions were made for personal reasons, but he weighed the outcomes. He wasn't afriad to use any means necessary to make sure the Port Mafia remained on top especially if it meant getting rid of those that stood in his way. 

"They'd get overwhelmed," Kōyō-san murmured. She and Ougai-san looked shocked as if it were surprising that Chūya could be so conniving. "They'd die because they wouldn't have the energy to keep going. The stress alone would be too much."

Chūya shrugged, inclining his head. "Mori-san once claimed that only a diamond can polish a diamond." 

The aforementioned man's counterpart did something complicated with his face. 

"And despite the fact that Dazai and I were both supposed to be geniuses who achieved the same amount of success in the mafia. Dazai has lived as the so-called brains of Soukoku for years."

His counterpart grimaced and nodded his head. Chūya figured that it wasn't so different in their world. After all, it wasn't easy to flaunt one's intelligence around Dazai. It wasn't easy, but it wasn't impossible.

"That's not—"

"Piano Man, Lippmann, Albatross, Doc, Ice Man," Chūya started, cutting his counterpart off. "Adam, Murase, Shirase, Verlaine, the Dragon Core, Ane-san, Hirotsu-san, Mori-san… Out of all of them, only three of them are alive."

The alternates kept their mouths shut, but it was clear that they didn't appreciate his livelihood. Chūya would appreciate their care for him, but alas, they'd go back to a world where they had each other and he would only continue to suffer.

"Adam is in Europe. We never even met. Shirase was killed in a gang war about a month or so after he made it to Tokyo. Funny how those two gangs weren't enemies before. I don't know where Yuan, Saya, Akira, Shougo, or anyone else from the Sheep even are. Hirotsu-san was forced into the closest thing to retirement by guarding an apparently not-dead Mori-san. I never met Kajii." Though from the memories of his counterpart, he wasn't sure if he wanted to meet the bomb enthusiast. He seemed like a good drinking partner, but definitely not someone he would actively choose to be around on a daily basis. "He died in an explosion when we were eighteen. Gin was Dazai’s secretary, and we never talked because Dazai never let us. I barely know what she looks like, and she sat at that desk right outside." His thumb pointed towards the door that led to the secretary offices because that asshole wanted to keep her as safe as possible when he went on his redecorating binge like a desperate housewife.

"Akutagawa works in the Agency. The weretiger worked for Dazai and hell, he never let me vet him. He recruited him personally, and any mission that he had was handled by him. Anytime they met I was dismissed from the room." Just like he was the last time that Chūya saw that bastard alive. "Ane-san was murdered when I was seventeen, killed by that damn weretiger on a mission to take down Kyōka’s parents no less. She managed to kill them before her death, and Kyōka was recruited into the mafia to take ane-san’s place." As if that little girl was any consolation for his ane-san. Even now, she still didn't have any control worth mentioning over Demon Snow. Not like Ane-san. Useless and a waste of resources. "Time and time again, whenever he needed something… anything that could apparently cause trouble for that Agency, I was called into the field. Just a weapon to fire in a direction that he pointed towards. Corruption here. Corruption there." He was too tired, too broken to cry. "I thought I was trusting him with my life when in reality, he was the one pulling my string like a dog on a leash." 

His counterpart's lip curled into a snarl.

"You remember the Sheep’s modus operandi," Chūya shrugged. "Anyone who attacks them get a hundred-times retaliation. Well, Dazai attacked me. He attacked mine. He might not be here to see it, but I'm just returning the favor."

"You're destroying everything because of one man," Mori-san stated in disbelief.

"And he ruined my life because of one man," Chūya said evenly. He didn't really care. Revenge was revenge, no matter the flavor.

"This makes you no better than him, lad," Kōyō-san said sadly.

"I never claimed to be better than him," Chūya replied, looking away from her. "Just his equal."

Chapter Text

Chūya kept his gaze on the window, overlooking Yokohama and ignoring the way that his visitors were going through the paperwork on his desk. Nakahara was saying something about going through the files for a few members that he knew were gifted, and would be able to be trained to higher positions. He was also talking about a few street kids that he knew from his own world that could use the Port Mafia protection. They were good informants in his world and he respected their decision to not join the Mafia. At the rate everything was going, the streets that they did business in would be reduced to ash and those street kids may not be worth a damn if they still lived. Personally, he would have been fine with that; not the kids dying but the streets being destroyed, but no, those damn light lickers had to go get help because they were weak. If they couldn't protect their own home, then they don't deserve to call themselves protectors!

Right back to where he started; Chūya was once again the face of an organization that only saw him as a sword and shield with no care for him as a person. He lost all autonomy over his life from the moment he was placed in that lab to looking in the eyes of an enemy with the face of a friend as he was stabbed with a poisoned covered knife to joining an organization with the only other person that he ever met that understood what it meant to be a monster on the outside looking in. 

He was positive that he could never forgive Dazai, and he wasn’t sure how his counterpart was able to get along with the version that he knew. He supposed it may be because the executive still had a support system, but Chūya didn’t understand why he didn’t feel the same hatred that flowed through Chūya’s veins. Even with a support system, that version of him was still an outlier in the Port Mafia. He was still an outsider; standing tall in face of their adversaries. They kept him grounded in a way that his manipulation of gravity couldn’t fight against, but it was still so painfully obvious that he was conforming himself to be the same as them. 

Then there was Dazai; who seemed at home with that shitty agency if Nakahara’s memories were any indication. He was in the same boat as Nakahara; tearing into himself to fit with those buddhist bandits and their faux claims of good and evil and enlightenment and whatever other bullshit that made them feel good about themselves. Their fake claims of morality and just were sickening and the thought of people actually believing it was pathetic.

The world existed in shades of grey, and he didn’t understand why someone with a soul as dark as Dazai was so fascinated by a lie. Though he supposed that he found an answer in itself, the greatest liar that he knew was Dazai and like attracted like and all that jazz.

They were supposed to be partners, the only one with skills to rival each other, even out of everyone in the organization. They were supposed to be each other's closest friend, but well—

Chūya supposed it didn't matter. He wasn't the Dazai that Chūya had known, and he was done chasing after someone that only saw him as a tool to be used and disposed of.

Besides to pity oneself and wallow in self-pity then life became an endless nightmare even if he was just stuck. Not sad. Not happy. Just stuck in the middle, hoping one day that he would get his spark back. It just... Chūya never thought he would be healing from someone that he had been healing with. It wasn't even real healing. That bastard orchestrated everything, so what had been real and what had been fake? He didn't want to believe everything had been, but how could he not? That asshole hadn't been praying that Chūya would find peace in their deaths; real and fake. He had been preying on Chūya's emotions for people he didn't even know in this world. It was like he even forgot that Chūya had feelings too; not if those feelings served him better for someone else. Not matter the shape or form, Chūya was a weapon. It was all he had been and all that he was good for as his only real talent seemed to be enduring beyond the endurable.

He guessed the only thing that made it all worth it was that Dazai got what he wanted by pulling that move with the book, only to realize that it wasn’t what he needed. If Chūya wasn’t so angry, he’d laugh. He hoped in everything that bastard lived after triggering the book defenses that he would never find the happiness he wanted.

If he was going to force Chūya to suffer, then he damn well should also.

Leaving him in this world where the pillar of its creation had been his love for that detective while using Chūya at every turn. He arranged the death of everyone else for that asshole's protection, so why didn't he get rid of Chūya also? Did that bastard truly believe he would keep shielding him or was it just plainly obvious that he didn't give a shit about him? 

They used to preach and scream about how much they hated each other, but there had still been care warped into their actions. There was no indifference between them; at least, Chūya thought there hadn't been until he realized that how thoroughly isolated from those around him, soaking in his own grief and misery, and all of it had been orchestrated by the one person he thought understood him the best.

He wanted to laugh because it was clear that he didn't. Somewhere along the way, they stopped understanding each other. Was it when Dazai put on the scarf? Was it when he triggered that singularity? Hell, maybe he had all wrong and there was never an understanding between them to begin with. Was it not true that no two human beings understand anything whatsoever about each other, that those who consider themselves bosom friends may be utterly mistaken about their fellow and, failing to realize this sad truth throughout a lifetime, weep when they read in the newspapers about his death?

He can't believe he wasted tears on that asshole.

Dazai tethered himself and their universe to a man that would rather put a bullet between his eyes. He learned of a world where they were friends; where Oda saw him as a human; what did that make Chūya then if Dazai wasn't human then what was Chūya ? They were supposed to be two halves of a whole and Dazai ripped him away. Dazai was in love with that man enough that he would have watched the world burn for him. He loved him and died for him, and the love wasn't his to begin with. 

Chūya restrained himself against the need to fling his desk out of the window because... because... that bastard was so fucking selfish. A greedy bastard that wanted something that he couldn't even have and died starving like the piece of shit that he was. 

He stole Chūya's people from him for someone that DIDNT EVEN GIVE A DAMN!

That selfish bastard.

Chūya would rather see the entire city burn before he let him have peace in his death. 

The death of the Flags had broken something within him, the death of his ane-san had torn apart his soul, the death of Dazai had turned him into a blank slate, but learning that it had been orchestrated by Dazai's hand had snapped Chūya's heart and sanity just like the spine of his best friends; in the end, the Demon Prodigy of the Port Mafia had finally ended the King of the Sheep.

And the sad part of it all was that he did it in the most humane way of all; after all, what better way to destroy a monster than by a love that was so painfully human.

Dazai stood under a familiar tree, in a familiar cemetery even if it showed signs of destruction from the gang war.

He thought over everything he learned since he arrived in this world, putting together the pieces of a puzzle that he knew no one else had; not even either version of Ranpo-san. They didn't have all the details, and even if they did, what could they do? From the moment that Kirako-chan informed them that more money had been found and the streets of the building they had been meeting echoed with the sound of hailing bullets, he had known. He didn't need to look at the reports naming every location that money had been found: The Old War pool bar, Shin-Tsuruya Institute, an abandoned shipping container, a safehouse that the president seemed to recognize from his past.

This wasn't simply a gang war.

This was a method of destruction carefully wielded by someone that knew how to lead them all to calamity and ruin; someone that was the symbol of rebellion and defiance. After everything that his counterpart had done, he wasn't surprised that this version of Chūya transformed into a jaded and vengeful entity. 

He wouldn't be surprised if money had been found in the middle of Suribachi City or in a certain research facility in countryside outside Yokohama.

He knew that the only way to end everything would be to convince Chūya to stop it. It would be hard considering that Chūya was the one to start it, but it would be better than letting the government grow some balls and attempt to stop it themselves especially since his counterpart wasn't there to intimidate them into compliance. Not that they'd want to antagonize the vessel of calamity either, but they'd try. No matter how he looked at it, convincing Chūya to stop it seemed to be the better option which meant they'd need to go visit the new Boss of the Port Mafia.

That was still a strange though to him. Not by much, but it was still very strange.

People spoke of the similarities that Dazai shared with Mori, but no one ever spoke of the similarities that Chūya shared with the man. He knew that despite how it was all framed, that out of the two of them, Chūya was the one that Mori would've named his heir. Yeah, Dazai could improve the Port Mafia, he could expand their reach far beyond Yokohama; this world proved it. However, in the end, the Port Mafia was always just a means to an end for him. He never found his answer on the meaning of life. He still wanted to die, and he would have had no problem taking the organization down with him if only to observe the reactions afterwards. Chūya though? He cared about the organization and the people within it. He was the reason that people would gladly join and be hesitant to defect because the care that he gave was so sincere that it was almost like working a white-collar job.

He just... he never saw Chuya sitting on the throne of the underworld. He had always seemed bigger than the Mafia, the Agency, and the government put together.

He sighed as he made his way to their new meeting spot; he could hear gunshots from the streets over, a familiar sound from his past.

"I thought about it," he said as he entered the room. Yosano-sensei was standing with Akiko-sensei as they healed wounds that both versions of Kunikida-kun and both Atsushi-kun. "The only way to stop all of this is by convincing Chūya to have the Port Mafia stop it."

"We tried that already," Ryūnosuke-kun sneered at him. "And you apparently crippled, so why would he help stop it? How would he?"

Dazai ignored him with the practice eased that came from ignoring Akutagawa-kun. "Chūya wouldn't let Yokohama go to ruins. His ability allows him to manipulate and control one of the four fundamental forces of nature, and he had full control over it by the time he was fifteen before learning about the next level to it." And he would not tell any of these people about Corruption. It was none of their concern, and he hated the fact that his counterpart died without having assurance that Chūya would be okay in the aftermath. What if he needed to use Corruption again? He wasn't alive to stop him, and these versions of Atsushi-kun and Akutagawa-kun were even worse off than the ones he trained. "And if this Chūya is similar to my Chūya, then he still studies astrophysics and general relativity and anything that has the slightest connection to gravity, even theories or bullshit that he saw on tv or read in a book. He’s powerful enough to take this version of the Agency and ours together on by himself and that's without using the full strength of his ability."

"He would though," Gin-chan countered, eyes looking out the dirty cracked window. He didn't like the disappointment that he could hear in her voice.

"He has no roots," Akutagawa-kun agreed even though it was clear that he didn't want to disagree with Dazai. "This Chūya-san has no roots. There is nothing holding him to be loyal to the city." 

"This city has brought him nothing but pain," Hirotsu-san sighed, looking older than he was. He twirled a cigar around, brows furrowed as he looked out the same window as Gin-chan. "He would only do enough to ensure the survival of the Port Mafia but he would do nothing more."

There was silence following the three mafiosi's words especially since apart from Dazai, they were the only ones left that knew Chūya the best even if it was a different version of him.

"Chūya is…" Dazai started, and he would deny it if it was brought up again, but... "Chūya’s smart. He knows how to make plans almost as good as my own. Sometimes they are just as good. He can catch me off guard. One of the things we have in common though is using someone else’s weaknesses to our advantage." He ran a hand through his hair, a bit stressed by it all. "The Underworld is tearing itself apart."

"And he would take over whatever was left adding it to the already impressive control that the Port Mafia had over the city and surrounding cities," Hirotsu-san finished. 

"We have to convince him that it would benefit the Port Mafia to at least acknowledge and take responsibility for the port mafia’s part of the Tripartite Framework."

"He sent us away when we first approached him," Yukichi-dono stated, watching them in contemplation. "It was a few days before he threw Atsushi-kun and Kyōka-chan out of the fifteenth-floor window."

The two aforementioned former mafiosi winced.

"If anyone can convince him, it would be Mori-dono, Kōyō-san, and himself," Higuchi-chan said cheerfully.

"It'd still help if he found worth in the agency. Chūya's… Chūya's kind. He was… Murase, the detective from back then. He wanted to show him the 'light'," Dazai said, mind drifting back to the past. Chūya had never really gave a shit about Murase's words. He hadn't thought there was any truth to it, but it was something that Murase had believed in and that was enough to get him to care. "Chūya would flourish in the light. If it weren't for the things that happened when he was a kid, he would be perfect for the special divisions department." Perfect for the Agency also, but the Special Divisions department would get him access to his files. Though he supposed that the Special Divisions department close ties to the government would also turn him away from them.

"And yet you manipulated him to join the Port Mafia," Edogawa-san stated. The man looked unimpressed with Dazai which was fine by him. He was unimpressed with him also. His Ranpo-san was clearly the superior one. "The same mafia that you left him in. Why didn't you take him with you?"

"That's none of your business," Dazai replied, face blanking. It was none of their business, and honestly, it wasn't even Chūya's business. Dazai's decisions were his own. "It doesn't matter either way. It's too late to change anything anyway. Chūya has… he has his family with the Mafia." A family that no longer included him. "And I have mine with the Agency. It’s… The only thing that matters is convincing your Chūya that it's worth keeping you alive." Because the way things were going, he wanted them dead, and he was going to make it happen without having to lift a finger.

"Wait," Jun'ichirō-kun stated, holding his hands out. "What do you mean?"

Dazai sighed, looking up at the ceiling. "Like I said, Chūya could stop this. He’s kind and not cruel without reasoning." Around him, the Port Mafia members of his world nodded their heads.

"At his core, Chūya-dono has always been someone kind and eager to help others," Hirotsu-san stated, inspecting one of his cigars. "The tragedies he has faced in his life... none of has changed who he is as a person. Not even working with the Port Mafia. He is the light wrapped in darkness, and he is the reason a lot of mafiosi can find light in the darkness."

"Akutagawa-kun, Kyōka-chan, even Nakajima-kun... if Chūya was your mentor, your time in the Mafia would have been much different," Dazai commented. "Healthier to an extent. His ability to inspire loyalty is well-known, and under his guidance, you would just be working a position similar to those in the Agency just with a bit more murder and theft."

The Agency members that he knew and worked with looked a bit uncomfortable with that description and a lot insulted, but they didn't know Chūya. They didn't know Soukoku because if Dazai could work with them and fit in, then of course, Chūya could. He'd probably do a better job at it also, maybe not on the detective front. The older man was a genius in his own right; Dazai was just smarter. However, Chūya would fit in better with them. Dazai was probably the only one that could keep up with Ranpo-san in the Agency and sure, Chūya wouldn't be too far behind. He'd dance the line of relatable to both sides, and it wouldn't feel fake. It wouldn't feel like a mask. It wouldn't be like wadding through murky waters and desperately hoping that he didn't slip and drown under the intricacies of humanity.

"Everyone thinks it's the mafia that runs the underground, that they're the cause of all the crime in the city," Dazai said, and while that was partially true, it wasn't the entire truth. "The Port Mafia keeps everything in check because if they let everyone else run wild, well... you can just look outside. Look at yourselves. Without the Port Mafia putting its foot down, everyone else is collateral to the real bad things that happen." 

"And you think Nakahara can change that," Doppo-kun said skeptically.

"This version of me may have let Atsushi-kun and Kyōka-chan leave the Mafia with no consequence, but Chūya could have just easily threatened their cooperation," Dazai shrugged. "A signed agreement that he wouldn't send anyone after you two as long as you helped stop the battle. He could have joined in on the alliance. He could have threatened the orphanage though he would have been just bluffing with that one. There are more gifted users in the Port Mafia that he can use. They might not be heavy hitters, but they are skilled in their abilities. If anyone can utilize them to their full potential, its Chūya but—"

"That's the role of a commander. He is now the boss," Hirotsu-san said. "He can't give them all the one-on-one training they would need. Not when he has to take care of the entire organization." 

"He had different options to use but he chose to just not bother with it," Kajii-san said next. "He doesn't care about the city. It's not worth anything to him. We have to convince him that it is. You have to convince him."

"Are you..." Nakajima-kun began nervously. "Are you sure we even can?"

Dazai winced because this Chūya did throw the boy out the window and he doubted he'd feel anymore charitable if he came near him again. "Maybe you should, uh, keep some distance."

"Just set Kenji-san on him," Gin-chan snorted. "Our Chūya-dono is weak for him."

Her coworkers laughed lightly while the Agency looked alarmed. 

"The boy is strong and carefree," Hirotsu-san explained. "He has an exceedingly optimistic outlook and always believed in the innate sincerity of others, regardless of what they may appear, say, or do."

"He's basically a more optimistic Chūya," Dazai said when they looked to him. "Willing to do what it takes to protect his friends. And ZawaJi is from the countryside, so his way thinking is different than us that grew up in the city. Just like Chūya was raised in the lab and then grew up on the streets."

"The lab," someone asked, but Dazai pretended that he didn't hear them. That was none of their business to an extreme level. "ZawaJi's lighthearted optimism would matter the most to him. He’d do whatever it takes to make sure that Kenji keeps it."

Dazai sighed once more, thinking over more. "We need to go to the Port Mafia and request an audience. We might have to spin as coming to collect the other three and that way we can sic him on Chūya."

"You think that's where they went," Oda-san asked.

"If Chūya has no one else," Dazai started, wincing internally knowing that it was his fault, or at least a version of him. "Then it's only place he could be aside from visiting the graves of the people that he lost." 

Arahabaki knows how many times he went looking for Chūya only to find him lying on the graves of Randō-san, the Flags, and even Murase-san.

He knew that it wasn't going to be an easy task to do. His Chūya was stubborn already, and Dazai had to carefully lay traps in his words and actions to get him to do what he wanted. This Chūya? He'd be lucky to stay alive to make it through the doors.

Yet...

Somehow, he did.

Somehow, he found himself watching as Port Mafia members make their way into the headquarters, snacks in hand as they laughed while the city was in ruins around them; they'd pull out access cards, employee identification cards, enter in their date of employment alongside phrases that Dazai recognize from some of his Chūya's favorite books. He and the others watched as openings appeared, only wide enough for the people to go through; sideways at that. So, this Chūya went all out with his security measures. Wonderful. Especially when he kicked a rocked at the barrier only for lasers to blast it into smaller pieces. His coworkers shifted at the sight, and his Port Mafia didn't blink but he could tell that they were uneasy. At least until a head of red hair peeked out from the upper-level windows, and someone came to allow them entry a few moments later.

They had frozen at the sight of him, looking a bit confused at the sight of the others. Their hands hadn't left their guns, and Dazai could spy almost every other operative watching them from hidden spots and blatantly from their positions. Both versions of the Agency were tensed walking into the devil's den, but Dazai didn't let it bother him. He was just surprised that there weren't orders for his immediate execution though that may be because this Chūya would want to do it himself.

Somehow, he found himself standing face-to-face to this... darker version of Chūya. His hair was the color of ripe cherries, skin pale as newly fallen snow, but his eyes? His eyes were as dark as midnight with no hint of a human soul lingering within them. Dazai once held the title of the Wraith of the Port Mafia. That moniker fit this version of Chūya much better than it ever did him.

He looked about as dead as Dazai felt except worse. It certainly didn't help that Dazai could almost see Arahabaki lingering on the edges of Chūya's psyche nor the immense pressure in the air as his ability wafted into the atmosphere. 

This man was more beast than he was human.

His Chūya rolled his eyes at his counterpart, moving back to the desk where Kōyō-neesan and Mori-san were going over a bunch of paperwork while Elise-chan sat to the side drawing pictures some of which were already taped without care to the walls.

"Chūya..." he breathed out before he could stop himself. Chūya—Nakahara-san's eyes flashed with something before those deadened eyes came back. Dazai had known that this world would have devasting effects on Nakahara-san from the moment that he heard about the differences, but... He had no idea that it would shatter him. Verlaine had snapped Chūya’s heart and sanity together with the spine of his best friends; a part of his Chūya was still stuck in that poolhall, dripped in blood, holding onto cooling corpses. Nakahara-san though? This version of Dazai might as well have dug a grave for him instead of tearing every part of him into pieces and leaving him to live in and lead a living mausoleum. 

"Oi, bastard, ignore him," his Chūya said, rolling his eyes at them both. "Come over here and see which one you want."

Nakahara-san looked them all over one last time before turning away. 

"This one is somewhat my kid," his Chūya was saying. "He's basically the us in Soukoku. I haven't put him in the field yet, not really. He's had a few field tests with me, but nothing too big. I want him to get a feel of his ability and every application for it, so he's never caught unaware."

"He any good?" Nakahara-san asked, and his voice was a bit rougher than Chūya's.

"One of the best," Chūya said proudly. "Can definitely see him becoming the strongest ability user in the organization. Not to mention, I'm training him in hand-to-hand myself."

Dazai peeked over at Akutagawa-kun and Tachihara-kun, knowing that both of them wanted Chūya's acknowledgement in that way. Sure, Akutagawa-kun put more interest in Dazai's acknowledgement, but for Chūya whom had probably been encouraging him for the last four years to believe that someone else was better than him had to sting. Not to mention, Chūya was Dazai's partner and not getting that acknowledgement from him either would seem like an insult. Then there was Tachihara-kun who was well known for his skill with guns, but it wasn't a secret that he looked up to Chūya also, and it was rumored that he trained his best to be able to use some of the moves that the chibi used in combat.

Akutagawa-kun's features could have been carved from stone aside from the sheer blown disbelief and hatred singing in his eyes. Dazai prayed that Chūya would keep an eye on his nonofficial protege if only, so he didn't have to deal with attempted murder. Tachihara-kun; however, just looked increasingly determined as if he was going break himself until he got that same acknowledge or well, kill the protege also if it meant that he got hands-on training. 

"Us, huh," Nakahara-san hummed, tracing his hand over the picture. "Limitations?"

"Nullification," Chūya said, tilting his head in Dazai's direction. Nakahara-san didn't even twitch. It wasn't like it was an issue that he'd have to face anymore.  "Limit of people he can use it on is at ten. Was three when I started training him."

"When...?"

"Three years ago," Chūya finished. He moved another picture to the front. "This one has a teleportation ability. Covers the entirety of Yokohama basically. Limiting in he can't carry too many people. It cuts his range in half for each person."

Nakahara-san nodded, looking at the picture.

"You should use her also, lad," Kōyō-neesan said, sliding a picture across the desk. "She's one of my best girls. My secret weapon."

"What does she do?"

"It's what you can't do," Kōyō-neesan corrected, smiling impishly. "She can detect whenever someone is telling the true and which part of their sentence is a lie. A strong ability, I must say. Even if you believe what you're saying is the truth, she'd be able to tell if it's a lie."

"Limitations?"

"Nullification, but she went underwent my training also," Kōyō-neesan shrugged. "However, if its repeated enough times, even a lie can start to sound like the truth so it may take a while to uncover and that varies."

"What are you doing," Dazai asked, and neither of them paid him attention except for Mori-san who laughed at the sight of them. 

"We're helping Chūya-kun fill in his ranks," Mori-san explained. "Alongside revealing some secrets even I didn't know. Chūya-kun, are you sure about this one?"

"Ray?," Chūya said, looking at the picture that Mori-san was holding up. "Well, she goes by Raven Blaise, but her real name is Robin McKinley. She was the niece of Takamura Koutarou; the Takasekai Mafia Boss."

Mori-san blinked, face blanking as he realized that he had a potential enemy within his ranks.

"She uses her mother's last name because she lived in the west until she was six when she came back with her mother. Things is, when she turned seven, her Dad abandoned them, got a new wife and had a new kid. Since Koutarou didn't have any kids, his nieces were the heirs to the mafia, but he didn't want the second niece. He wanted Raven despite what her Dad was trying to push."

"Why did she join the Mafia," Nakahara-san said, staring at the picture.

"Her Family was killed during the Dragon Head event," Chūya shrugged. "She had awakened her ability a few years back when she was ten. It was the only way that she and her Mom survived. Everyone else was dead so to keep herself safe, she placed her mom in a care facility, drained all of the Takasekai family funds then went to the ground and changed her appearance. She joined up when I was seventeen, I think? No one would have expected her to join a rival group. She worked in intel, scarily good at paperwork and a loan shark that could rival Dazai."

A hard thing to achieve if he toot his own horn.

"She keeps her ears on the ground, working out alliances with rival groups, then she reports those same alliances that she made to the Port Mafia so we could take over them."

How devious.

How dangerous.

"No need to worry, boss. She already admitted that she was willing to swear loyalty to you again if that's what you wanted, but she also said that she probably would have joined any. Aside from her mom, aunt, and uncle, the rest of her family were assholes, and she's using their old information network to acquire more profit for the Port Mafia."

Chūya then looked at Nakahara-san. "With her, you get Ibuse, Satou, Kawabata, and Tsubouchi. They were not only her guards back in the Takasekai Mafia, but were the only reasons that she managed to survive going underground."

"Wouldn't their loyalty be more to her than me," Nakahara-san asked.

"You can win their respect and loyalty by treating her like a person and not a potential enemy," Chūya corrected. "Treat her like an enemy and they treat you like one. It won't take long to get their loyalty, and it won't be hard to get them to be more loyal to you than her. She'll always be a priority, but you can convince them to put the Mafia before her."

"Alright," Nakahara-san said, placing his hand over the files. "I'll look over the rest of these and your notes. Now get them out of my office before I do it myself."

Chūya scoffed before the three of them turned to look at Dazai and his group.

"What's up," Chūya asked. "I would've thought that you avoided this place."

"You can think," Dazai gasped cheerfully, and Chūya flipped him off. "Chibi! Bad dog!"

There was a pulse of red that shimmered through the air before it folded itself back under Nakahara-san's skin. The man was content to ignore them though.

"Well," Chūya demanded, looking over the group before his gaze landed on Akutagawa-kun and Tachihara-kun. "Anyone going to speak?"

The boys look away, though as it was clear that they were the weakest link at the moment, both of them looked back towards him. 

"Dazai-san thought it would be prudent to form an alliance between the Port Mafia and the Armed Detective Agency," Akutagawa-kun explained, after clearing his throat.

"The answer is no," Nakahara-san commented without looking away from Elise-chan who had moved over to show him her drawings. "As long as I'm the Boss of the Port Mafia, there will never be an alliance between us."

"Chūya," Mori-san and Kōyō-neesan chided causing the man to shrink into himself like a child, but he didn't take his words back. Not that Dazai thought he would. 

"I don't see why I need to ally my people with the reason that this universe is going to shit," he said petulantly. "I'm already holding this thing together through sheer will which would be better if that damn weretiger learned how control his damn ability instead of clawing everything up."

"What," multiple said at once and Nakahara-san turned his nose up in the air.

Chūya stared at him, narrowing his eyes as his own ability flared on and off. "You're using the gravitational forces to affect molecular and photonic reality. Converting all energy into endless forms of energy which you're using to create a thin layer between this reality and the holes of the book, basically creating a pocket dimension, so when the holes eventually tear it apart, this reality would still exist. Like tapping a page down on a book."

"Can you speak English," Higuchi-chan pleaded.

"He was," Tachihara-kun drawled, getting more than one look. He looked away, turning his nose in the air also. "What? I like physics."

"The weretiger's ability allows him to cut through ability themselves when he uses his claws," Chūya said, looking at both versions of Atsushi-kun before turning back to Nakahara-san. "At least, that's what Akutagawa-kun report stated and that's without it being combined with Rashōmon."

The red-gloved man shrugged uncaringly. "I'm only keeping it together enough so that the Port Mafia can survive. The rest of them can join Dazai in hell."

"Can someone explain it," Atsushi-kun said hesitantly.

"This world is dying. Instead of letting it die, he's using his powers to trap it in a pocket dimension while everything outside of it dies," Tachihara-kun informed him. "Your ability cuts through other abilities so every time the other you used his claws, it was affecting the pocket dimension which I'm guessing Nakahara-san didn't care about because he doesn't like the others at all so either the war outside would kill them or constantly weaking the dimension would make them fall to the effects of the world being destroyed."

"Tch, guess you do have a brain, traitor-nim," Nakahara-san said.

"Traitor," Tachihara-kun spluttered, turning red faced. "I'm not—"

"Tachihara Michizō, Fifth Member of The Hunting Dogs under the leadership of Fukuchi Ōchi who is also Kamui, the leader of the terrorist organization Decay of the Angel," Nakahara-san recited as if he was reading it off a card. "Your gift is called: Midwinter Memento granting you the ability to manipulate metal, making you well-suited for stealing, altering information, and assassination."

"How...?" the boy said, slumping over. Golden Demon had already materialized, hovering over his shoulders. Hirotsu-san had one hand placing on his shoulder, Rashōmon hovered around him threateningly, Gin-chan had a knife to his throat while Higuchi-chan had her gun pointed at his forehead. 

There was no escape for him.

"Your ability made you perfect for espionage and stealth operations," Nakahara-san continued. "But the experiments and monthly surgeries that the government requires is what did you in. At least, the version in this world. I went through every member with a fine-tooth comb when I took over. His profile had too many red flags to ignore and when I went to track him down about them, imagine my surprise seeing his comradery with the Hunting Dogs. At first, I thought you were one of those decaying bastards until I overhead you refer to me as A258."

Dazai wanted to snarl in the same way that Kōyō-neesan did as she stood to her feet. Those numbers should never be uttered ever again especially the way that they made Chūya flinched. 

"Once they started about you toeing the line about waiting for your surgery, it all clicked together. The fact that you never returned after I left Doc Glasses that nice gift only cemented it."

Mori-san laughed, clapping his hands together. "And here I thought I was going to have to wait a bit longer to understand where your loyalty lies, Tachihara-kun."

"Boss, you knew," Chūya asked, fingers flexing as he stared the other mafioso or well government spy down.

"Yes, yes," Mori-san said with Elise-chan laughing at his side. "I cannot speak for this one, but our Tachihara-kun has been teetering the line of his loyalty to the government and the Port Mafia. He's been feeding them information on us but also sabotaging most of their missions. I had my suspicions when you first joined, of course. Chief Taneda is supposed to be an equal to Fukuzawa-dono and I. He's supposed to be a balance of both sides, just like the government with its claims of righteous but underhand dealings. It would have been unwise to believe that the government wouldn't send someone in after poor Ango-san got ousted. Unfortunately, your entry was too fast and too tailored. My only shame is taking so long to realize it."

He waved his people down, and they stepped away from the boy without a second thought. "Tachihara-kun is just finding his identity, yes? He's growing up. We can discuss this more in our world."

The mafiosi stared at the boy for a second longer before turning away as one.

"I think we should go back to Fukuchi-san being a terrorist," Ranpo-san said. "I think we skipped over that too fast."

Nakahara-san didn't even look at him, turning back to Chūya and the other two that were originally in his office. "I would prefer it if you got them out of here before I show them real terrorism."

"I would like to hear more about how you're making this a pocket dimension," Dazai said, moving closer. Red flared around Nakahara-san and the man stared at him without any emotion. "I didn't know you could do that, chibi."

"Don't call me that. I’m not him," Nakahara-san said, leaning away from Dazai while tilting his head in Chūya's direction. “The trust that you and him share? He didn’t have that for me. He hadn't been my partner. The bond that we shared was shallow.”

Dazai felt anger flare within him. No bond between him and Chūya could ever be shallow. Their fate was not supposed to ever end like these two. They were destined to be together and meet in every single lifetime and irritate each other from the beginning to the end of the universe.

"He made it clear where his priorities lay," Nakahara-san continued, pulling a cigar out from his suit pocket. "You were a mafioso once, so you should know, you murder someone's family, the Mafia's gonna make you pay. And he made it clear that his wants and needs and love came before the comfort and care and the survival of my people. I'm not agreeing to an alliance with that Agency when your little pet assassin over there is the reason that everything is going to shit."

There was a moment of silence as the red head Port Mafia Boss got to the root of the issue without any care for anyone else. Dazai saw the way that Oda-san twitched, and he saw the way that both versions of Chūya stepped closer to Kōyō-neesan. Dazai really didn't know what to say even from those little words, it was clear that it would be harder to manipulate Nakahara-san into accepting an alliance, and they would really have to depend on Kenji-kun to be the one to convince him. 

And then, Chūya he looked at Dazai. "What did he tell you?"

"Huh? Chu—"

"Don't act stupider than you already are," Chūya sneered as Dazai tried to figure out a way to not have this conversation again. "I know you have a good memory, bastard. Don't paraphrase. What did he tell you? "

Everyone around them was silent, watching the exchange. Well, everyone aside from Nakahara-san; he had a gravitational field surrounding his desk that kept everyone aside from Mori-san, Elise-chan, and Kōyō-neesan from approaching him as he sneered and smoked a cigar. Dazai kept his eyes on his Chūya before sighing and looking away. "He said to 'be on the side that saves people. If both sides are the same, then choose to become a good person. Save the weak, protect the orphaned. You might not see a great difference between right and wrong, but... saving others is something just a bit wonderful.'"

Chūya scoffed, stepping away from him. "And which part of that said to defect from the Mafia?"

"I couldn't—"

"You see both sides as the same," Chūya interrupted. "Why couldn't you do both? Hell, we saved Yokohama from being destroyed when we were sixteen. Twice. Within months of each other. Were we not good people then?"

"Chūya—"

"No, shut the fuck and listen," the older man snapped. Dazai clamped his mouth shut though it was clear that he wasn't happy about it. Not that either Chūya cared. "You know how the balance is supposed to be maintained. The Port Mafia rules over the night, making the decisions and doing the jobs that the other two squirm away from. We make sure that the balance is stabilized or we'd end up in situations like the shit going on outside."

Mori-san nodded his head, childishly sticking his tongue out at both versions of Fukuzawa-san.

"I can't deny that being in the light has done you some good," Chūya continued. "I can't say that you don't seem happy and less burden. You don't look like you feel the weight of the souls that you've taken on your shoulders anymore. I can't deny that you are a better person, but don't stand here and act as if being in the light is any different."

"It is," Dazai pleaded, feeling something beginning to unravel within him. "Helping people... Helping people has proven to be fruitful in more ways than I could have ever expected."

"You know who else claims to be helping people?" Chūya gave a sharp bark of laughter. "A world with only light but no darkness could not sustain life. You think it's so much better. Please. You make me sick. If the light was so much better, then the weretiger wouldn't have faced that dragon bastard as a kid. The government wouldn't have covered his crimes when he was going around the world causing suicides with his stupid fog." Both Atsushi-kuns flinched and both Akutagawa's scowled even if the mafioso looked disgusted with himself for doing so. "If the light was better, then I wouldn't be standing here in front of you."

Dazai froze, and Nakahara-san tilted his head, a lot more interested in the conversation than before.

"I’d be much happier somewhere else," his Chūya continued spitefully. "In another prefecture with a mother that's not grieving me when I'm still alive. With a father that didn't hand me over to a lab so that they could experiment on me with him being the lead scientist." Nakahara-san put out his cigar, reached into his desk to pull out a bottle of wine that he immediately chugged while both Agencies gasped in shock alongside the mafiosos that didn't know his history. He understood their surprise. Outwardly, Chūya was fortunate and happy and envied by man, inwardly, all was darkness and misery.

"I wouldn't be merged with a monster that wants to kill me. The government wouldn't be so obsessed with trying to capture me again so that they could experiment on me even more. Your precious light didn't help me at all. It didn't help the families that it tore apart. Hell, it didn't help the weretiger either. The boy is a walking PTSD case. The light is the reason that Kyōka-chan's parents were murdered and got her on the path to be a mafioso." Kyōka-chan and Izumi-chan flinched. Their parents worked for the light in the shadows, and it led to their deaths. Led to their deaths to be covered up. 

"The light is how Doc Butterfly became Mori-san's Angel of Death." Yosano-sensei and Akiko-sensei flinched and bared their teeth while both Ranpo-sans stepped closer to her protectively. Because Mori-san wanted his immortal regime and he had legal authority to make it happen by the government.

"The light is the reason that Paul was born, the reason that everything happened to me, the reason that Randō-san lost his memories, the reason that nii-san lost his partner, the reason that he killed my friends. The light was the reason that Suribachi City was even created. The reason that I met the Sheep and the reason they betrayed me. So, Osamu, fuck the light. Fuck whatever side you truly believe saves people. Just don't stand here and tell me that the light is better when it has done nothing but burn me!"

Because the French government created Verlaine and they sent him and Randō to Japan. Japan was the one to experiment on Chūya, their experiments mixed with France’s intervention was the reason why so many lives were destroyed and disrupted when Chūya escaped. The light did nothing to compensate those whose lives were changed after the explosion as they were more focused on covering up their actions, and children had to protect children. 

"I don't know what you want me to say, Chūya," Dazai argued, feeling a little out of his depth. "I'm happy on this side. And it's probably the last thing that you want to hear, but I couldn't stay in the Mafia. You're right. It can do a lot of good, but I couldn't keep working under Mori-san. This world could have very much happened in our own. I'm ... I'm sorry that you were just collateral damage in what went down, but I had to leave."

"Then why didn't you ask me to go with you," Chūya asked, tilting his head. Kōyō-neesan and Mori-san tensed at his words, a bit startled. "I know how you think, bastard. If I was truly just collateral damage, then why didn't you ask me to go? It would have been a blow to the Port Mafia if they lost both of us."

Dazai didn't want to admit that he hadn't spared a thought for Chūya until weeks later as in after he met with Chief Taneda and got set up in a safe house later. He had snuck out to place the bomb under Chūya's car, but before that, the ginger hadn't even crossed his mind. And though he changed his life and had no intention of ever returning to the Port Mafia, his bond with Chūya stayed the same... right? He still trusted Chūya with his life, and he still trusted Dazai in the same way. It was still them. Everything was okay... right?

"The Mafia is your family," Dazai said instead because he had to try. It wasn't like it was a lie either way. He used these same words to justify himself when he looked in the mirror. "You were... You were making it your home after everything that happened with the Flags and the Dragon Core." That was still a horrible name. "I took you away from one family. I couldn't... I couldn't do it again. And Odasaku... he was my friend. He meant the world to me."

"Don't try to sound altruistic, bastard. You're petty and selfish and insanely possessive," Chūya sneered. "You would have done so happily. Just admit that I wasn't..." He paused, leather creaking as he balled his fists, and Nakahara-san huffed in bitter amusement at his desk where he was guzzling another bottle of wine. "You know what... you're right. I was making the Mafia my home. My family. But at that time, I was still so fucking tired. I didn't see a point when all I had left from the beginning of everything was Ane-san, Hirotsu-san, Boss, and you."

Dazai startled.

"Ane-san and Hirotsu-san are loyal to the mafia in a way that even I'm not." And if Chūya was anything, it was loyal. "And Boss is well boss. You were the only person I had that didn't feel the same loyalty, that same connection to the mafia." 

Dazai hadn't realized that, and he knew just about everything that was to know about Chūya.

"If you had asked me to leave, then I would have."

The words seemed damning, and took away even the ringing in Dazai's ears from what could have been a confession if he didn't know his partner better.

"If you asked me, I would've joined that shitty agency with you."

Said agency members blinked and scowled a little in offense, except Kenji-kun who looked excited at the prospect of working alongside the gravity manipulator.

"If you would have asked me, I would have followed you anywhere."

There’s something raw underneath it; fragile and sharp at the edges, something that makes Dazai’s stomach twist. The only sound in the room was Nakahara-san chugging another bottle of wine as if he wasn't a notorious lightweight. 

"But you didn't," Chūya continued as if he didn't just confess to him. Well, it wasn't a confession. Dazai does know his partner better. It was just a word of fact, but— "I opened myself to the Mafia, and fully committed my loyalty to them... fully committed to making them my family because... because you watched me lose everyone that I love then you left too. For four years, I thought you were dead!"

The wine bottle shattered against the wall, and well, it was easy to understand why those words were hard for Nakahara-san to hear. Unlike Chūya, he would never get his Dazai back or anyone that he lost unless he managed to get Mori-san and Hirotsu-san to leave their orphanage. 

"I checked every river and every graveyard and every damn hospital, looking for you and hoping against hope. I've yelled and cursed at so many women who called my phone looking for you thinking it was some sick joke because you didn't leave a word behind except for apparently a blown-up car," Chūya continued as if he didn't care that everyone was listening to them. And Dazai understood intimately how serious it was because while Chūya wasn't one to discriminate based on gender, he preferred to not curse and yell at women outside of a fight to death because even a regular battle wasn't enough to rid himself of his manners. "So, yeah, Dazai, it's easy to see where I stood on your list of priorities. I didn't need you to say it. I already knew who meant the world to you and who didn't especially when you show up four years later in the loving arms of the enemy to my family."

His hand waved towards their Agency members while their alternates awkwardly shuffled closer to Nakahara-san who flared his ability and pushed them away from him.

Very petty, that one.

"They were the ones that stayed," and his words were a desperate thing, filled with wonder and love and care. "The ones that helped build me back up because you ruined me, Dazai. Maybe not like this one did him, but my life changed drastically the moment I kicked you through a wall all those years ago."

Dazai wasn't sure if those words were supposed to hurt in such a way. The warmth that seemed to burn his lungs or the chill that seemed to freeze his veins. 

"Mori-san took over all my medical procedures when you weren't there to guard me while I was in medical." Dazai flinched even as some kind of soft smile appeared on Mori-san's face that was truly a thing of nightmares. "He made sure that no one could take advantage of me if he just did everything himself." The Port Mafia boss nodded his head, and Nakahara-san huffed once more.

"No more panic attacks, gravity-infused tantrums, or blind rage crash outs when Hirotsu-san was there with a smoke, an offer to go drink, to train together, hell we even talked about Ice Man." The older mafioso smiled gently and nodded his head when Nakahara-san offered him a light for his cigar.

"And I can never forget Ane-san. Anything I asked or could want for... she was there. Advice, encouragement, hell I even trained with her, and the property damage that she can create with her katana and Golden Demon could almost rival corruption."

A true thought that made more than one person shiver. At least the ones that knew the damage that she could truly cause when she went all out and those that knew about the second form of Chūya's ability. Nakahara-san turned away, no doubt in a way to keep them from witnessing his grief though she didn't care about that. She moved closer to his side, running a hand through his hair.

"But you... I don't know." Chūya dragged a hand over his face as if he was just truly exhausted. Dazai wouldn't blame him. This entire trip was exhausting, and even seeing Odasaku again didn't seem worth it in the end. Not with everything that kept getting dragged up. "I thought we were more than friends. I thought... you heard the rumors and speculations too."

Dazai didn't nod his head, but he knew what the other was talking about. A lot of people had thought that the two of them were having passionate hate sex, but also that they were in an actual relationship. It probably didn't help that people thought them hanging out at the arcade so much when they were fifteen were another word for date nights or that he broke into Chūya’s apartment so much, or that Piano was Man looking out for him, Ice Man was willing to teach him hand-to-hand combat, Lippmann was there to show him how to use his looks against people and get better at reading people to manipulate, Doc ordered his favorite brand of bandages only for him, Albatross teaching him how to drive but not really caring for legality or survival. Kōyō-neesan liked to project an air of regality and maturity but she was an enabler and managed to get back a piece of her stolen childhood with them. Mori-san favored them both, and—

"Hell, Adam outright told us... together we were something perfect like one soul in two bodies." 

The closest thing to soulmates for two people that didn't think that they were human. The hatred that they felt one another was a mirror that they felt for themselves. Looking at their strengths and weaknesses in each other. Looking for their humanity in each other. 

"I hate you and I care about you, and I don't know... it's more complicated than all of that." 

Dazai understood. He really did. 

"But I do know that you usually give me a choice. It started when you gave me the chance to either defeat Guivre or learn about my past. Hell, it started when you gave me the choice to use my powers how I wanted and instead of how The Sheep wanted me to, and every time afterwards, you give me a choice to place my life in your hands, but then when it came down to it... when it came down to you trusting me... you didn't give me a choice then. I would have left all of them behind for you."

Dazai stood frozen as Chūya looked at him, eyes clouded with so many emotions that Dazai could spend hours picking out which was which. 

"And in return, you abandoned me for him," Chūya finished, pointing his thumb at Oda-san.

"It wasn't like tha—"

"If I could have the Dragon Core back... If I could have the Flags back... I would kill almost everyone in this room, in this city, and beyond to make it happen," he announced plainly. Nakahara-san nodded his head from behind him. "I can't blame you for doing that for your friend. Not really. I am nothing but the graveyard of all the people that I've ever loved. The difference between you and I, Osamu? I wouldn't play god to have them back. I wouldn't have made you miserable just so that they can live."

"Chūya..."

"The last words that I can remember Lippmann saying to me was that 'We're all members of the Mafia. We knew we could die at any moment.'  And you know that the mafia at its core is an economic exchange using violence as currency. Anything can be requested. Anyone can be killed. Oda-san was not exempt from that just because he was your friend. He could have died at any moment before then. Grief isn't rational, I can give you that, and your biggest fear is loss stemming for losing that bastard. You don't want to feel it again. You’ve been dancing with Death and getting rejected by her since I’ve met you. You fear the day she completes her dance with someone else because you don't like it if it's not you. I feel for you, but I won’t accept your decisions because you need to at least start thinking about the other people that care about you before you go throwing them away from someone who knew the risks that they took."

"Ugh," Nakahara-san said, grimacing as he looked at his counterpart. "Your kindness makes me sick."

"And your bitterness makes me exhausted," Chūya shot back, stepping away from Dazai. "He's not your Dazai."

"Looks like there is a god," Nakahara-san muttered. "How long is it going to take for you all to leave? I want these agency fuckers off my territory as soon as possible." He cut a glance at Fukuzawa, sneering a little as he went. "And I'm not interested in any alliance."

"Laz is gonna have so much fun with you," Chūya groaned, and Dazai wondered who this Laz person was. 

"I aim to please," Nakahara-san said drily as he turned back to his desk. "See yourselves out. Make sure to trip and die as you go."