015

A/N: I half gave up on my upcoming exam. I'm close to shooting my history book with a gun and then burning it to dust.

P.S. I wrote like 5 unpublished chapters but deleted them all because the characters were a little off in personality. Sad :(

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The aroma of steeped jasmine filled the room like smoke. Soft, ephemeral, fleeting.

You leaned your chin on one hand, fingers delicately cradling the handle of the teacup in the other.

Kouyou sat across from you in a stately silence, the breeze from the open window barely disturbing the straight line of her hair.

"You always choose this place," you said, voice light, curious.

"Is it because it’s the furthest room from the others? Or because it faces the east, where the light first enters the building?"

She didn’t answer, only lifted her cup with a precise, mechanical grace. She sipped. You smiled.

"I used to drink tea with my eyes closed," you continued.

"Helps heighten the taste. But that was when I didn’t have anything worth looking at."

Her eyes flicked toward you briefly, calm and unreadable.

"Are you attempting to flatter me, or are you simply bored?"

You chuckled, tapping your nails against porcelain. "Both."

Kouyou’s silence was not cold, merely measured.

You watched the way her fingers rested on the saucer, elegant and still, as though they belonged to a porcelain doll.

The image thrilled you.

"I think I understand why Mori likes you," you said, not bothering to lower your voice.

"But I won’t ask how you feel about him. That would ruin the mystery."

"And yet you ruin others so easily," she said.

That made your smile sharpen.

"Isn’t that the point of curiosity? Once the question is answered, there’s no longer a need to ask it."

"Then don’t ask."

"Mm, cruel."

She set her teacup down and stood. "If you're not going to stop talking, at least pour more tea."

You watched her back as she crossed to the window. You liked that about her.

She's not Mori.

She didn’t look at you too long, didn’t pretend to entertain your games like Mori did.

However, she gave you exactly as much attention as was necessary, and no more.

Just like him.

You poured the tea, an amused smile on your face.

Later, you found Dazai loitering near the armory, flipping a coin like it could decide whether to burn the world or just watch it slowly decay.

He glanced at you once, then returned to the silver spin between his fingers.

"Why don’t you ever ask me what I’m thinking?" you said, stepping beside him.

"Because you’d lie."

You smiled, feigning offense. "And if I promised to tell the truth?"

"Then it wouldn’t be interesting."

You leaned casually against the wall, shoulder brushing his.

The coin clinked softly as it landed in his palm, only to be sent spinning again a moment later.

"You’re clingier these days," you murmured.

"You follow me more than you do with Mori. Are you in love with me, Dazai?"

He didn’t answer immediately. When he did, his voice was flat, but the corner of his mouth twitched.

"Only if you let me watch you die."

You laughed, head tilting back. "Fair enough. But you'd have to be the one to kill me, wouldn't you? Otherwise it wouldn't mean anything."

He didn’t reply. His eyes flicked to yours, sharp, thoughtful.

"You like control," you said.

"So do you."

"Difference is, I admit it."

The coin danced again, hypnotic in the dim light. You watched it for a moment, then let your gaze drift back to his face.

"You know," you said, voice lower now, almost conspiratorial, "I caught you looking at me yesterday. When I was crying."

"You weren’t really crying."

"But you liked it."

A pause. Then, softly, "you’re annoying."

"You think I'm pretty when I suffer."

He didn’t answer. But his hand stopped, the coin stilled.

"You want to own that face."

Silence stretched between you like a wire pulled taut.

You leaned in again, until your breath ghosted near his ear.

"You can't."

Then you stepped away, all traces of the moment gone from your expression, like a magician snapping the cloth off an empty table.

"I'm going to see Mori," you said. "Try not to die while I'm gone."

Mori’s office smelled of ink, old books, and Elise’s sugary scent. Probably ate something sweet for lunch.

She was sprawled across the couch, sketching something with dramatic strokes and exaggerated pout.

You didn’t greet her. You used to.

You used to kneel, to tease her, to pretend she was your equal in curiosity. But now you merely nodded.

You had learned all there was to learn.

She stuck her tongue out at you anyway.

"Mori-san," you said, turning to Mori, who was reading a medical report with that same polite disinterest he applied to corpses.

"L/N-kun," he greeted, eyes not leaving the page.

You waited. Elise flipped her sketchpad around, revealing a caricature of Mori with devil horns and hearts in his eyes.

"That’s me?" Mori asked.

"That’s you when you look at yourself in the mirror," she declared.

He chuckled, reaching out to ruffle her hair. She smacked his hand away with theatrical disgust.

"You seem bored," he said to you suddenly.

"You’ve answered all my questions."

"That’s unfortunate."

"Isn’t it."

He looked up then, eyes glinting in the low light.

"Shall I give you something new to explore?"

You tilted your head.

He stood, straightened his coat, and placed the report aside.

"From today, you are an executive of the Port Mafia."

There was a moment of silence. Elise’s pencil stopped moving. She turned to you with a smile.

Slowly, you grinned. Wide and cunning.

"Is that so? I must say, I'm grateful, Mori-san," you said.

Mori’s smile mirrored yours. Thin, amused, dangerous, "congratulations on your promotion, L/N-kun. You deserve it."

Your heart beat once, slow and curious.

Yes, this would be interesting.