018

The door to the boss’s office creaked open with a low groan.

Soft footsteps padded across the floor as you entered, the lingering scent of smoke still faint on your coat.

Inside, Mori sipped calmly from a porcelain teacup, perched on the velvet couch like a gentleman of leisure rather than the head of the most feared criminal organization in Yokohama.

“I don’t think those kids would bore you too much,” Mori said without looking up, setting the cup gently on its saucer.

His voice was light, but there was something curled beneath it. “Are you slacking off during work, L/N-kun?”

You smiled, mirroring his civility with ease. “I don’t think they needed any help. Dazai is more than enough to ensure everything goes smoothly, and Chuuya’s ability can take care of the rest.”

“Is that so?” Mori finally looked at you, his smile pleasant, eyes like scalpels.

“Hearing that from you puts me at ease. However…”

He leaned forward slightly. “Why are you here, L/N-kun? The version of you I know wouldn’t have stepped away just because things ‘looked fine.’”

You tilted your head, as if the question was curious rather than calculated. “Because someone I’m fond of will die today.”

Your tone was even. Casual. Like you were commenting on the weather.

Mori blinked, slowly. “Please elaborate.”

You tilted your head, almost amused. Mori knew full well what ‘fond’ meant to you. That word covered far too many people. Toys. Subjects. Distractions. Each fleeting spark in your otherwise dim world.

A beat passed. Then you said, “I found out who revived the previous boss.”

It hadn’t even been an hour since you’d been dispatched. You said it like it was a passing thought. Like you were talking about the weather again.

Mori grinned.

Not the polite, practiced grin he wore around guests. But something sharper. Stretching too wide, too thrilled.

“As expected of you,” he murmured, almost reverently.

Then, as quickly as it appeared, the grin smoothed back into his usual expression.

“You’re not going to ask who?” you asked, genuinely curious now.

Mori chuckled softly, leaning back with a sigh of satisfaction. “No. But I do want to know how.”

You smiled, eyes half lidded. “That,” you said with a tilt of your head, “you’ll have to guess yourself.”

As you had expected, Rimbaud was swiftly declared a traitor.

You hadn’t interacted much with him, but the two of you were on good terms.

No animosity. No real affection either.

His death didn’t make you sad. Of course not.

But it was a shame. People like him were rare. Beautiful things that burn out too quickly.

And just like that, things returned to normal.

Except for the new presence.

You had expected it in the back of your mind, yet the sight still brought an amused glint to your eyes.

Chuuya stood frozen mid step in the hallway when his gaze met yours.

“L/N-san.” He bowed slightly, formal and stiff.

Only recently, he’d been calling you ‘lunatic’ and ‘Mr. Infamous’ with that bratty tone, and yet here he was, under the same roof.

How professional. How dull. And yet... the boring ones are always the most fun to break.

“Chuuya.” You nodded in acknowledgment.

“Whose command are you under?”

A pause.

“It would be nice to have you here with me.” Your smile was innocent, disarmingly so.

“I’m… under Kouyou-san’s command,” Chuuya answered, a flicker of hesitation in his voice.

“Ah, is that so? Lucky you.” You gave a faint chuckle before brushing past him.

Chuuya stared after your retreating figure, a cold sweat beading at his neck.

'Why do I feel like I just dodged a bullet with that one…'

You were in a good mood as you walked. Sure, you didn’t get to have Chuuya, but the reminder of Kouyou sparked something better.

You would accompany her again today, just in case she was lonely and in need of some charming company.

And then— how quaint.

You spotted Dazai wandering the halls… with a kid?

Your brows lifted with amusement. Another stray, perhaps? One of Mori’s experiments? Or maybe Dazai’s curiosity had latched onto something new.

The kid’s eyes lit up the moment they saw you.

“Mister, mister! Play with me!” They rushed up and hugged your leg without hesitation.

Too innocent. Too bright. Suspicious.

But undeniably entertaining.

“Hey, don’t bother L/N-san,” Dazai said, appearing behind them and pulling them back by the collar of their shirt.

“It’s fine, Dazai.” You crouched down, arms opening like a benevolent saint. “I’ll play with you.”

The child couldn’t have been older than ten, even younger than Elise. Yet here they were, clinging to you like a puppy.

Dazai’s expression darkened subtly behind them.

Your smile widened.

“Getting jealous now?” You leaned in close, your breath brushing his skin. Your voice was a purr. “You’re cute when you pretend you don’t care.”

He stared, unmoved. But you saw the flicker in his gaze. The quiet simmer.

You pulled away. “Anyway, what’s this kid doing here?”

The child’s voice piped up before he could answer, “Kyusaku! Call me Kyusaku!”

“Sure, sure,” you said, smirking. “So?”

Dazai gave a quiet sigh. “Picked them up from a hospital. Apparently, they managed to hurt the kids in their ward without ever laying a hand on them.”

Your eyes gleamed with sudden interest.

“So their ability isn’t known yet, huh?” you murmured, grinning, sharp and cunning.

“I was just on my way to see Kouyou-san, but this… This is far more fun.”

Dazai remained quiet.

“I’m sure Mori-san told you to find out this child’s ability,” you said sweetly.

“And I know just the way to do that.”

Your eyes turned dark, bottomless pits of cruelty, your smile still perfectly intact. Dazai only gave the smallest nod.

You set Kyusaku down. Their small hand held onto your sleeve briefly before letting go.

“You’re not going to play with me?” they asked, confused.

“I will,” you said, ruffling their hair like a kind older brother. “I’ll play with you to your heart’s content—after we figure out what your game is.”

Your voice was honey, your smile tender, so fake it nearly dripped poison.

Dazai recognized it. He hated it. He wanted to be the only one you smiled at like that, real or not.

You pulled out your phone.

“Send two at Port Mafia Headquarters. 2nd floor hallway,” you said simply to the voice on the other end.

Moments later, two of your men arrived. When they saw Kyusaku, confusion bloomed in their eyes.

You gave them a look. A cold, empty thing, and they tensed.

“Push the child to the limit,” you said coolly.

They flinched. “Sir—”

A single glare shut them up. Cold. Merciless.

“Or do you want to be the one dealt with instead?”

The first hit landed. A punch to the gut. Kyusaku stumbled back, confused more than hurt.

Another kick.

Then another.

You planned on pushing Kyusaku to the edge to force out their ability.

There were no visible reaction. Until—

You narrowed your eyes.

A faint shimmer. A mark. Barely visible beneath the collar of one of your men.

You strode forward and yanked the collar down roughly.

A deep purple handprint stained the back of his neck.

Another man. A similar mark on his collarbone.

You hummed in delight, running your thumb across the imprint like a caress.

Dazai’s glare was ice sharp, daggers thrown in silence.

You turned to Kyusaku, crouching down again like none of that had just happened.

“Did your friends hurt you?” you asked, your hand gently ruffling their hair.

Kyusaku blinked at you. Then slowly nodded. “Yeah… they were mean. It hurt a lot.”

“And what happened after it hurt?” you asked.

Kyusaku paused.

Then, with an almost angelic smile, they raised the ragged doll they’d been hugging... and tore it apart at the seams.

A second passed.

Then your men started shrieking.

Their pupils turned red, blood pouring from their eyes like tears. One clawed at his throat.

Another screamed, stumbling and lashing out at the nearest person.

And just like that, they turned on each other. A full on frenzy.

You watched with fascination, eyes glinting. “A masterpiece…”

Then— silence.

Dazai had placed a hand on Kyusaku’s shoulder.

The madness stopped instantly. The glowing eyes dulled. Blood still trickled, but the ability was nullified.

You let out a soft sigh of disappointment. “How boring. It was just getting fun.”

Dazai didn’t speak. His hand remained on the child’s shoulder, his expression unreadable.

You stood, brushing imaginary dust from your coat.

“Well,” you said with a smirk, “I think Mori-san will be quite interested in this.”