020

Back in Yokohama. Port Mafia HQ.

You stepped into Mori’s office first.

The scent of antiseptic and cologne hung in the air, sterile and sweet. The lighting was dim, curtains drawn.

Elise sat curled up on the sofa, flipping through a storybook with her feet kicking lazily, while Mori stood by the desk, fixing his gloves like he had all the time in the world.

You handed him a sealed report file and a small, sleek box. “The mission was completed. The rival organization is no longer a concern.”

Mori opened the box before the file. Naturally. Inside sat a silver fox keychain, gleaming under the chandelier light.

“My, how charming,” Mori said with a theatrical little gasp. “You even brought me a present? You’re spoiling me, L/N-kun.”

He smiled, sharp and satisfied, and set the box down like it was a precious gem.

Elise looked up. “What about me?”

You pulled out the doll keychain with curled blonde hair and offered it to her wordlessly.

She snatched it and held it up with a blank expression. “It looks ugly.”

Mori tried to cheer her up. "Maa, Elise-chan, it doesn't look that bad."

Then, her face brightens up. "I'll name it Rintarou two! Thanks, L/N! Now I can curse at Rintarou without him responding and knowing!" Elise went to hug you.

Meanwhile, Mori gradually turned to stone while cracking at the ends.

"Elise-chan...so cruel!" Mori turned around to wipe his fake tears.

Kouyou’s quarters.

Tea was steeping when you entered.

The room smelled of sakura incense and chrysanthemum leaves. Kouyou was seated cross-legged on a cushion, her hair pinned up in its usual elegant style, eyes closed as she inhaled the aroma of her cup.

“Sit,” she said without opening her eyes.

You obeyed.

The tea was floral, subtly sweet. You drank in silence until you pulled out a small parcel and slid it across the table.

She opened it with one elegant hand. The swan keychain caught the light in her eyes. She paused.

“Mm,” she murmured. “You’ve returned in one piece and brought me something tasteful. What’s the occasion?”

“There isn’t one.”

Kouyou studied you for a moment. “You're unpredictable as always. I almost thought you were flirting with me,” She chuckled.

You said nothing.

She smiled faintly. “Then I suppose I’ll return the favor by telling you that your pet mentee has been especially volatile while you were away.”

You glanced at the steam rising from her teacup. “Dazai?”

She nodded, her expression unreadable.

In the corridor.

Sada approached you mid-step, holding a stack of documents in one hand.

“Welcome back,” he said. “The paperwork from the mission’s already being processed. I filed it under O-17 like last time.”

You nodded and handed him a small parcel. “Here.”

He blinked. “Is that…?”

“Owl. With glasses. It reminded me of you.”

Sada adjusted his real glasses with a slight smirk. “I’ll try not to overthink that.”

“Don’t.”

You moved on, your coat brushing past him.

The underground cell.

Dim. Quiet. Cold.

Q sat curled on the stone floor, drawing invisible lines with his finger, humming something tuneless. His doll rested in his lap, head lolling to the side.

You approached the bars. He noticed you before you spoke.

“You’re back,” he whispered, tone uneven. “You didn't come for months...”

It's only been a few weeks. But you wouldn't be surprised as Q is locked up with nothing to do and with no one and nothing to tell him the time.

You nodded and crouched.

He watched as you slipped a small box through the bars. He opened it. Inside sat the stitched-lip porcelain doll keychain.

He stared for a long time.

Then, softly. “Why?”

You looked at him. “Because you are still mine to mentor. Even if they locked you away.”

Q’s eyes flicked to yours, searching. “Dazai-san said I ruined you.”

“You didn’t.”

“…Did I hurt you?”

You paused. “Not enough to matter.”

He blinked. You turned away before his expression changed again.

"Thank you..." He muttered.

You nearly collided with Akutagawa in the hallway.

He stopped immediately, dropping into a rigid bow. “Sir.”

You handed him a parcel.

He stared, surprised. “This is…”

“A gift.”

He opened it slowly. The small hedgehog keychain stared up at him.

“I don’t understand.”

“I thought it suited you.”

“…Spikes?”

You blinked. “Solemn eyes.”

Akutagawa’s eyes widened. His grip on the keychain tightened. “Is this… a mission signal?”

“No.”

“A test, then?”

“No.”

“…Then what do I do with it?”

“Keep it.”

He nodded rapidly, expression deadly serious. “Understood. I will not fail you.”

You moved on without correcting him.

And then, there was no Dazai.

You looked.

His usual spots—gone cold.

The library, the weapon storage, the shadowed corners of your past mentor student conversations. Empty.

Sada hadn’t seen him in days. Though asking him may have been pointless as Sada avoids Dazai like the plague whether he's gone or not.

Chuuya scoffed when asked. “He probably snuck off to mess with some government goons. Or drown himself in a ditch.”

Still, something gnawed at the back of your thoughts.

Not concern.

Just the lack of closure.

It wasn’t until three days later that Mori called you to his office.

“I have a new mission for you,” he said.

You nodded.

“Before that… one small thing. Dazai-kun has left us.”

You paused mid-turn of the page. “He quit?”

“Mm. Just like that.” Mori's voice was almost gleeful. “Isn’t that dramatic?”

You processed the words with a stillness honed over years.

Then, a thought. Slim, sharp, surgical, cut through the silence.

Mimic.

He knew. Mori always knew.

You were out of the country when it happened. Too far to interfere. Too loyal to refuse.

You blinked once. “Understood.”

Mori tilted his head, curious. “You don’t seem surprised.”

“I’m not.”

He smirked. “No sadness?”

You met his eyes. “Only disappointment.”

“Oh?”

“I failed to teach him loyalty. That is my failing, not his.”

Mori stared for a second, before leaning back with an intrigued smile. “You’re cold, as always.”

You bowed. “I live to serve.”

And you meant it.

Because whatever attachment once flickered in your chest toward Dazai… it was gone.

Or maybe it was never really there.

“Good. Now, about that next mission…”

You listened.

But your thoughts hovered, just for a moment.

Dazai. Your mentee. The boy who clung, who learned too fast, who once picked apart your silence with idle smiles and false innocence.

You once thought maybe, just maybe, you were attached.

Your last conversation with him didn't end on a good note. You thought you'd regret it. Miss him, even.

But now, sitting in front of Mori, hearing the words as if they were smoke dissolving in the air…

You felt nothing.

And that was how it should be.

There's no point in having attachments. It'll only be a nuisance.