008

"Mori-san..." you called out flatly, eyeing the man with a blank stare.

"Don't you think you're enjoying this a little too much?"

Mori turned his head toward you, lips curled into an ever-gentle smile.

"Am I? You're officially part of the mafia now, L/N-kun. Isn't it exciting to start with something practical?"

You stared at him.

"A mission the moment I join? Couldn't you at least offer tea and cake first?"

He laughed softly, brushing imaginary dust off his coat.

"Consider this your welcome gift."

Flashback-

It started unexpectedly. You remembered the way Mori glanced at you that morning, eyes glinting with something you couldn't quite place.

"I want you to join the Port Mafia," he said, sipping calmly from a porcelain cup in the clinic.

You raised a brow. "That's sudden."

"You always said you were curious about the darker side of society, didn't you?" he replied smoothly.

"That's different from offering myself to the criminal underworld."

"Not that different," he said, voice laced with amusement.

"Besides... the timing is perfect."

"Why now?" you asked, narrowing your eyes.

"You've never pushed before."

Mori set his cup down with a soft clink.

"Because I'm the boss now."

You blinked.

"Come again?"

"The previous boss passed recently. An illness." He smiled, far too gently.

You turned your gaze to the side, where a quiet, expressionless boy sat with a bandage around his wrist.

"Dazai?"

"He's my witness," Mori said.

You looked back at Mori. His eyes were too serene. Too calculating.

"Ah," you said, the pieces clicking into place.

"You killed him."

Mori's smile widened faintly.

"Whatever are you suggesting, L/N-kun?"

You didn't answer. You both knew.

You remembered the old boss.

Paranoid, cruel, erratic.

You'd heard the whispers of bloodbaths and irrational orders.

You'd also seen the way Mori had begun inserting himself quietly, surgically into mafia affairs while still donning the title of "doctor."

"You planned this for years," you murmured.

"You love this city. You couldn't let him destroy it."

"That's a strong accusation," Mori said softly.

You smiled.

"I'll do as you say."

"Good."

As you walked beside Mori, with the boy named Dazai trailing silently, Mori turned toward you again.

"Ah, L/N-kun," he said lightly.

You tilted your head. "Hm?"

"I'll be quite busy settling the internal disputes. Some members won't be pleased with the shift in leadership. Can I ask you to look after Dazai-kun for a while?"

You blinked at the boy, then back at Mori.

"Sure. He's interesting."

"I'm right here," Dazai muttered.

"Do I get a say in this?"

"You need supervision," Mori said plainly.

"You don't trust me," Dazai stated. Not asked. Just stated.

Mori chuckled.

"You have a habit of 'accidentally' trying to die, and if you say the wrong thing to the wrong person, it could complicate my position."

You chuckled under your breath.

"And what if I end up torturing the information out of him and killing him, just for fun?"

Mori turned his head, calm and composed. "You won't."

"How can you be sure?" you asked sweetly.

"Because," he said, meeting your eyes, "you're more obedient than that... aren't you?"

You sighed. There it was, the usual tug at your strings.

"Alright."

"Good," Mori said again. "Teach him a few things while you're at it."

Back to the present-

Mori beamed at you, practically glowing with self satisfaction.

"Isn't this nice, L/N-kun? It's a wonderful chance to earn the trust of the members. And Dazai-kun could benefit from observing you."

The mission was simple in theory.

Find the traitors who sold information to the enemy faction after Mori took over. Capture them alive. Extract information. Kill them. Neat. Efficient.

"Seems easy enough," you muttered.

Mori clapped his hands once, lightly. "That's the spirit."

You glanced at Dazai, who stood silently by the doorway, unreadable.

You wondered, was he learning from you, or just measuring how deep your darkness went?

You discovered it by accident.

Your hand brushed Dazai's sleeve, intent on taking him with you. A shift in space, the familiar pull of teleportation. Gone, as if it hit an invisible wall.

You blinked, pulled back, tried again.

Nothing.

"Interesting," you murmured, tilting your head. "You have an ability, correct?"

Dazai, 14, all bandages and apathy, stood beside you with unreadable eyes. "Do I?"

"My ability requires physical contact to carry others. Yours must deactivate any ability that touches you. That's why I can't bring you."

He stared. "That'll be inconvenient."

You gave a soft chuckle, the sound light despite the irritation most would feel. You weren't most.

"Maybe. But it's curious, don't you think? I guess we'll walk."

"You could just leave me."

"True. But I'd rather not have to come back for a corpse."

"...You think I'd die?"

"I think you'd get bored," you said.

"And bored people make mistakes."

He didn't respond, simply walked beside you, hands in pockets, eyes half lidded like the world tired him. Maybe it did.

Eventually, his voice broke the silence. "My ability's name is Ningen Shikkaku."

You glanced at him, amused. "No longer human, huh?" You chuckled. "That fits you."

"What's yours?"

You nodded. "Yūgen no Tobari," you said, and watched his eyes flicker with interest. "A Curtain of Profound Mystery."

"That's poetic."

"I suppose. It's fitting too. I disappear behind a curtain, and reappear wherever I like. Silent. Subtle. Swift."

Dazai's lips tugged slightly upward. "Useful. Especially for assassination."

"You say that like you've already made a judgment."

He shrugged. "I can read people fairly well."

You grinned.

The mission wasn't difficult, just time consuming.

Two traitors. Former mafia members turned informants. Names leaked, locations compromised.

Mori didn't tell you to retrieve them. Only to make them talk. And then...dispose of them.

You crouched behind a building's crumbling wall, finger pressed to the dirt. A faint smudge of boot tread. Fresh.

"They passed here," you said, eyes sharp.

Dazai leaned over your shoulder, his breath cool and ghostlike. "You can tell?"

"Teleportation's only part of it," you replied. "Finding where to go takes skill. Observation. Pattern recognition. You don't just go somewhere. You study it first."

He said nothing, watching your fingers trace dust.

Within an hour, you'd narrowed it down. An abandoned warehouse, a block east.

You stood, raised two fingers to your lips, then vanished.

A blink, a shift, and you were inside the warehouse's rafters. The traitors sat below, hunched around a table, rifles leaning against their legs.

You reappeared behind the first, drew a short blade from your coat, and knocked the back of his neck. A sharp strike. He collapsed.

The second turned too late. You were already behind him.

Another chop. Another thud.

You teleported back outside, grabbed Dazai by the shoulder on instinct. And nothing happened.

He smiled as if amused. "Is it working yet?"

"Still not working," you admitted with a smile. "Walk with me, will you?"

Inside, they were already groaning when you got there.

Dazai tied their arms with cord you'd packed. Neatly, methodically, as if he'd done it before. He probably had.

One of them blinked awake.

"Wha-"

"I wouldn't move," you said, crouching beside him.

"I'm curious what humans look like when they think they're about to die. I want to see that moment of despair. You might be my new test subject."

The man's eyes widened.

"I heard a rumor once," you continued, tone casual.

"That if you peel a man's fingernails off slowly enough, one by one, you can hear him forget how to breathe."

Dazai blinked at you.

You smiled.

"Oh, and did you know? If you cut the skin behind someone's eyeball carefully enough, you can pull the eye out while they're still conscious. It just dangles there. Blinks like it's confused."

The traitor shook violently. "I-I'll talk! I'll talk-please, don't-"

You tilted your head. "I haven't even touched you yet."

Did someone this pathetic actually had the guts to betray the Port Mafia?

Still, they spilled everything. The location of the buyer. The exchange plans. Names of accomplices.

"Remember that," you said, turning to Dazai.

He nodded silently.

Then you turned back to the traitor.

"Oh, and by the way," you said sweetly, reaching into your coat for your knife.

"I never said I wouldn't do it anyway."

"You said-!"

"I said nothing," you corrected, and began your work.

It wasn't rage. It wasn't even hate.

It was curiosity. Control. Precision.

You wanted to see the reaction in their eyes. How they screamed. When the moment of resistance cracked and gave way to surrender.

You whispered things to them. Random, senseless things, to see how their minds broke down.

Promises of salvation. Lies about family. Gentle reassurances as you carved slow patterns down their skin.

Dazai watched.

Silent.

Still.

Unflinching.

Their screams echoed in the warehouse like a symphony.

When it ended, your hands were stained, your eyes bright, and your mouth curled in mild fascination.

You stepped back, cleaned your blade slowly.

"They die fast when the body gives up," you said, almost to yourself.

"Faster than expected."

You looked to Dazai. "Thoughts?"

He met your eyes. "You don't hesitate."

You tilted your head. "Should I?"

"No." He paused. "Just...my first time seeing someone so thorough."

You gave a soft laugh, flicking blood from your wrist. "You'll get used to me."

"I think I already have."

You smiled, genuinely this time.

As you walked out of the warehouse, the moonlight silvered your features. The night was cold. Still. Quiet.

"You know," Dazai began, voice flat but thoughtful, "your eyes don't look like they belong to a human."

You turned to him, amused.

He continued, "Most people have something in their eyes. Fear. Guilt. Hope. You don't. It's like you're looking at everything from the outside."

"And yours?"

"Mine?" he murmured. "My eyes belong to someone inhumane who doesn't want to be alive."

You stared at him. "But you're still here."

You didn't deny the inhumane part.

He shrugged. "No good opportunities yet."

You stopped walking, looked at him for a long beat.

"You're interesting," you said.

"Suicidal and numb. Yet you followed me here. Helped. Watched me kill."

"I was curious," he admitted. "I wanted to see if someone like you existed."

"And?"

"You do."

There was silence.

Then, softly, Dazai added, "The difference between us is that I'm trying to disappear. You... You have something to live for."

Your smile faded into something unreadable. "Maybe. Or maybe I'm just better at pretending."

He didn't answer.

You walked beside him, step for step, until the warehouse was far behind and the only sound left was the wind.

After a long moment, Dazai spoke again.

"It's a shame your ability doesn't work on me."

You turned your head. "Oh?"

"Would've been convenient. Fast getaways. Instant assaults. You behind someone's back before they blink."

You grinned. "Did you like that part?"

"I liked how clean it was. Efficient."

"Practicality suits you."

"I think it suits you better."

Your smile lingered, quiet and knowing.

"Maybe we suit each other," you said.

He didn't argue.

Back at the clinic, Mori asked how the mission went.

You gave him the information. Dazai confirmed it. The traitors were dead.

Mori nodded approvingly, hand brushing your shoulder briefly, gently.

You didn't flinch from the touch. Neither did Dazai.

When you left Mori's office, Dazai followed you outside. You paused at the doorway, turning back.

"Still think I'm a monster?"

Dazai looked at you, expression unreadable. "You don't think you are?"

You smiled faintly. "I don't think it matters."

"I think it does," he said. "To the people who try to love you."

You tilted your head, lips twitching. "Are you trying to?"

"...I don't know yet."

"That's okay," you said, walking ahead. "I'm not trying either."

But something passed between you in that silence.

Not affection.

Not trust.

But recognition.

Two monsters walking side by side under a moonlit sky, eyes emptied of the things that made people human, but still searching, somewhere in the dark, for something neither could name.