005

Mission Complete.

Four weeks.

No survivors.

No trace.

You stood at the edge of the destroyed base, soaked in blood and soot, watching the final embers fade.

Then you turned and began walking home.

Back to the Port Mafia.

Somewhere in the haze of that final kill... you remembered the boy who sat beside you at the edge of the rooftop.

You remembered a boy who followed behind you like a lost puppy.

And you wondered...

Did he stay in that hallway, even after you left?

Did he wait?

...

He shouldn't.

Attachments are not needed. Only loyalty has a worth in the port mafia.

Dazai should not get attached, it's for his own good.

The scent of blood still clung to your clothes, despite the storm you walked through on the way back.

Yokohama's skyline blurred in the haze, and yet the moment you stepped foot into the Port Mafia's headquarters, the air felt heavier.

Colder.

Like something changed in your absence.

You knew it before you even crossed the threshold of Mori's office.

He was waiting, of course. Seated elegantly in his throne-like chair, Elise curled up beside him drawing on a paper with interest.

Mori greeted you with a sharp smile and a faint clap.

“L/N-kun~! Home so soon? You really are terrifying when you're efficient.”

You didn’t answer. Just handed over the small, black drive containing every record, name, and face you’d found.

The only proof the Jukai no Kuchi ever existed.

“Well done,” Mori said, fingers curling over the device like it was the finest jewel. “And right on time.”

That part made you pause.

“...For what?”

A playful gleam danced in Mori's eyes. “Oh, just a bit of restructuring.”

You felt it before he said it.

“I’ve decided Dazai-kun no longer needs your training.”

The silence between you cracked, like old glass underfoot.

Mori continued, tone light. “In your absence, I took over his lessons. The boy’s talent is undeniable. He's already reached a point where I see... reflections of you. And now, I think it’s time to redirect your mentorship.”

He gestured behind the desk, and a shadow stepped forward.

Small. Slight. Half pale half dark hair, dark eyes, and a cheery expression.

"Hello, I'm Yumeno! You can also call me Q!" The child introduced brightly.

A bit too bright for a child in the port mafia.

“They’re promising. Unrefined, but promising. Dangerous in a different way. I want you to shape that.”

You didn't speak, nodding once coldly.

And in the corner of your eye, you caught it, movement in the hallway, just behind the door Mori hadn’t quite shut.

Dazai.

He was standing there like a phantom, half cast in shadow, half lit by the soft golden glow of the overhead chandelier.

His expression?

Blank.

But his eyes…

They were unreadable.

Q didn’t notice him. Or maybe they did and simply didn’t care.

They stepped closer to you with a small tilt of their head, studying you with the eerie detachment of someone who didn’t quite understand what personal space was.

“So you’re the one I’m replacing him with.” They said plainly. “Good! He was boring.” He admitted with a big smile.

Behind them, Dazai didn’t flinch.

Didn’t move.

But his fingers were clenched so tight you were sure they’d leave crescent moons in his palms.

You met his eyes once.

Held his gaze.

And then without a word... you turned away.

Back to Mori. Back to Q.

Back to your orders.

Because this was the Port Mafia.

And in the Port Mafia, attachment was weakness.

Even if Dazai didn’t know it yet.

Even if he hated you for teaching it to him.

Later that night, Dazai sat alone on the rooftop.

Same place. Same spot. Just like before.

He stared at the city lights, fingers loosely tangled in the bandages you gave him. The only thing he’d never unwrapped.

His eyes were unreadable.

But his thoughts?

Loud.

If only Q vanished.

If only they failed. Made a mistake. Showed their fangs too early.

Then maybe… you’d come back.

Maybe you’d look at him again.

He closed his eyes.

And wondered what it would take for someone like Q to disappear.

He wouldn’t act. Not yet.

But if they ever slipped...

If they ever gave him a reason...

Well.

He had learned a lot from you, after all.

The first days were quiet. Too quiet.

Q was always waiting. At the edge of your shadow, following close like Dazai once had, but with none of the warmth. None of the subtle yearning for approval.

Just curiosity.

And that strange, artificial cheer.

“L/N-san~! I folded all the reports like you asked!” 

“L/N-san~! Is it true you tore out a man’s eyes once? I think that’s so cool!”

Always watching you. Always smiling.

You trained them. Ran drills. Combat. Observation. Tactics.

You taught with the same cold efficiency you taught Dazai, but Q didn’t flinch under pressure the same way.

They didn’t learn because they wanted your approval.

They learned because it was fun.

Until they stopped pretending.

It was the third day since you started training Q.

You were reviewing reports when the scream echoed through the upper halls.

You were moving before it ended.

By the time you reached the source, half the room was in chaos.

One of the junior Mafia members, a sharp-tongued, arrogant teen who hadn’t lasted long under Mori’s gaze, was on the floor, eyes wide, hands trembling violently. His mouth opened and closed, babbling nonsense.

He wasn’t looking at anyone.

Just screaming.

Q stood in the center of the room, tilting their head with a look of childish wonder. Blood trickled down from their mouth where the boy had clearly struck them.

You didn’t ask why.

You knew.

The moment you stepped forward, another shadow moved faster than yours.

Dazai.

He had been close. Watching, maybe. Waiting.

His hand slammed down over Q’s arm in an instant...and the madness stopped.

The boy on the ground gasped, collapsing fully. Drenched in sweat. Still alive.

Q didn’t resist.

They just smiled at Dazai like he was a particularly amusing puzzle. "Hello, Dazai-san! Are you here to play with me?"

You didn’t say anything to Dazai. Just looked at him. He looked back, eyes blank.

He said nothing either.

Then he left.

That night, you didn't bring Q to the training room.

You brought them to the abandoned subway tunnels, deep beneath Port Mafia ground.

You stepped into the silence.

"Koi-iki." You muttered.

A large sphere appeared around Q, trapping them inside.

A world of your own making.

A place where no one could hurt. No one could be hurt. No lies. No distractions. Just the echo of your voice and the weight of consequence.

Q blinked slowly as they look around. Their shoes crunched softly over dust.

“Where is this?”

“Where you'll train from now on,” you replied flatly. “Your ability is triggered by pain. No one can hurt you in here.”

They paused. “So I’m safe?”

You didn’t answer.

"...Or am I alone?"

Still no answer.

You conjured the training dummy, humanoid, reinforced, blank-faced. Unshakeable.

Q approached it warily, then grinned. “It won’t scream.”

“It’s not supposed to,” you said coldly. “You’re here to learn control. Not satisfaction.”

They didn’t like that. You saw it in the twitch of their brow.

But they obeyed.

For now.

For the next few days, Q trained in silence.

No ability. No outbursts. Just their fists, their feet, their breath.

Again.

Again.

Again.

You didn’t praise them.

You didn’t guide with kindness.

You gave them the same treatment you gave Dazai. Only now, you wondered...

If it had been a mistake.

Because Dazai clung to humanity with trembling fingers.

Q never had it to begin with.