ruubles

[ruubles]

A Bundle of Crimson Roses (Pt.3)

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4

Pairing: Chuuya Nakahara x Reader

Warnings: Cursing , Alcohol , Suggestive Themes , Gore , Blood, Violence

Word Count: 6790

Y/N) stood at the back of the gazebo, her body leaned atop the white wooden rail as she stared out across the well maintained garden. Flowers twisted in the moonlight and swayed in the gentle breeze, rose bushes stood without a branch out of place and recently pruned, and the fountain brought a continuous stream of sound. These little details had been the focus of her attention, the only thing dragging her mind away from the bodiless head sitting on the ground behind her.

She hadn’t brought herself to do anything with it yet, leaving it there in hopes that maybe it was just a hallucination, but the longer she stood the more the realization came crashing down. In her time under the Port Mafia she’d seen, and done, horrible things that were considerably worse than this. Even so, she was shocked that someone would risk their life to get the corpse only to leave its head behind as a warning. 

That’s what this was. A warning.

A warning to stay away. A warning to not track these people down. Whoever had been responsible for this murder was dangerous and they wanted the mafia to know that. They not only created a drug that could remove someone’s ability, but they went through all the trouble of tracking the victim down to keep this information from them. It was a basic strategy but well thought for this situation. As long as they left behind as little traceable evidence as possible then it would be near impossible to find the culprit.

“Fuck. That sure explains the missing body.” (Y/N) had lost herself in thoughts of the situation and hadn’t noticed Chuuya’s approach. She didn’t bother to turn around and listened as he approached her, his steps were shallow light as he took the longest route around the head. After a moment she felt him beside her, his arms crossed and laid on the railing. “You should have told me you found something, I was still searching the house!”

He huffed a little as he spoke, eyes focused ahead just as hers were. “Sorry, I guess I got caught up thinking about something. I haven’t had a partner in quite some time.”

“Tch. You don’t have to apologize, I’m not used to a partner either. Last time I had one, it was that shitty Dazai.” 

(Y/N) chuckled, her grim face shifting to one with a slight smile. She shook her head at the mention of the suicidal man, he was quite the topic in the Port Mafia, even after he abandoned them. “I was never that close with Dazai, but I knew of him through a friend. It would seem many people perceive him in different ways.”

“Many people don’t like him, and I couldn’t agree with those people more.” Chuuya turned to look at (Y/N), finally acknowledging that she had at some point turned to face him. Her (E/C) eyes met his and he could see that glint in them, not the one of seriousness from this morning, but the playfulness he’d seen in her last night.

“Who are you Chuuya Nakahara?”

The question was a strange question, similar to the ones he’d been asked when they first met only twenty-four hours before. “That’s a dumb question for someone Mori spoke so highly of.”

“I’m no fool Chuuya Nakahara, I’ve looked into the case files of almost every high ranking member of the Port Mafia. You are the person with the least amount of information. I was able to get more from Mori’s own public file than your private one.” (Y/N) backed away from the ledge and took a few steps away from Chuuya, carefully watching her movements to stay a good distance from the head. “I’m working with someone who I know nothing about. Mori knows you’re loyal to him, but I have no reason to believe that you wouldn’t shoot me if the opportunity provided itself.”

“Now why would I do that? Mori made you my partner, and I’m not going to disobey a direct order from him.” Chuuya scoffed and turned to face her. “Plus you’re one to talk about minimal information when your file doesn’t exist. I may not be the most strategic person in this mafia, but I do like knowing who I’m dealing with.”

“It would seem we’ve hit a roadblock then. My files, both public and private, were burned upon request and I assume the missing information from yours is also ash.” (Y/N) stepped towards Chuuya, their eyes locked in a challenge with one another. Her eyes changed rapidly to a dark piercing gaze, as if the trust she’d gained for him had drained at a rapid pace. “I have no doubt that our partnership will be beneficial in this case, but if neither of us trust one another then I see no reason for us to be friends.”

~x~

Chuuya’s eyes remained glued to the road ahead, his ears honed in on the quiet breathing of the seat diagonal to his own. If he focused he could see the faint outline of a person in his peripheral vision, but their body still remained shrouded in darkness. (Y/N) had chosen to sit in the back of his car, to the seat opposite of her was a bloody bag securely buckled down. 

They hadn’t spoken even a word after their show down in the gazebo, perhaps newfound apprehension had been built between both parties. Few people knew of Chuuya’s past, but he understood that the mystery made any relations he had with another person difficult. For all (Y/N) knew he was a treacherous fiend that would stab her at moments notice. Though that statement applied for him as well, he had done his digging in the hours before he’d seen her standing alone outside and the stories of her did not disappoint.

The woman without a face, that was the constant whenever they mentioned her. He hadn’t a clue what it meant but whatever it was made her dangerous. Far more than most people of the mafia. Tidbits of information wormed their way into his mind, some of which were likely untrue, but the more he learned the less he really knew. From what he’d been told she’d joined the mafia at a fairly young age, just a little bit before the Dragon’s Head Conflict, and during the conflict was when her true strength had come to light. Mori promoted her just after the whole fight started, but he told no one but Daza and a few people who knew of her.

“Tomorrow I propose we go to the scene of the fight. We could likely find some bullet casings or leftover blood. It could be a lead for where to find these people.” Chuuya could see in his eyes that even though she was speaking to him, she hadn’t turned away from the window. 

“We could go in the morning and-”

“Afternoon.” She cut him off. “I have business to attend tomorrow morning and I would much rather not be forced to reschedule. My apologies for cutting you off, but please continue.”

Chuuya rolled his eyes but made no comment on her rude interruption. “Then we can meet up tomorrow afternoon; Do you need a ride?”

(Y/N) hummed to herself for a moment before answering him. “If it isn’t too much trouble. My business is at a bakery on Southwest Street: Kim’s Kreamy Delights. They have some of the best sweets I’ve ever tried, I’m a big fan of their Dasik, but Mrs.Kim only makes them on Lunar New Year. When it’s not around that time, I usually get a kkwabaegi.”

“You seem well acquainted with sweet treats, I assume you know that they aren’t healthy.” Chuuya’s comment was somewhat judgmental, but it seemed to fly over (Y/N)’s head. Her mind still focused on the warm treats she would get whenever she was in town.

“I know that, but I do things for the enjoyment of myself. We are members of a mafia Chuuya, I’ve never expected to live a long life, nor a happy one. If you wish to judge then do so but I will not be changing my habits based on your criticism.” He had thought she hadn’t noticed the backhanded rudeness he’d displayed but it seems as though she had. 

There was a strange silence that fluttered through the air of the car as the light of the city finally made its way through the car's windows. Slowly the trees on the outer rim of the city turned to buildings and the streetlamps illuminated the faces, every post passing by in a fleeting second before another one replaced the eerie orange light. Chuuya’s car sped down the street, not one to abide by normal street laws, and every sharp turn brought them closer to the mafia’s headquarters. 

After a couple of minutes he pulled up in front of the towering building, its floors spiralling upwards into the stars. Several windows could be seen alive with a blazing light, not a strange sight considering many of the mafia’s business matters occurred during this time of night. Usually Chuuya would be in there monitoring what went on in every crevice of that building, but instead he was heading home to an empty apartment where he’d be receiving regularly spaced messages updating him on what was going on. It had been Mori’s order for him to get some rest, but the work of a mafia member was never done when night fell.

“Are you sure I can’t drop you off at the place you’re staying at? I don’t mind driving a little further.” Chuuya had extended his offer not because he was kind, but because Mori had been clear that someone should be looking out for this woman. He’d gone as far as assigning Hirotsu to monitor her, there had to be a reason he’d want someone of such importance to watch out for someone as capable as an executive.

“I’ll be fine, but thank you for the offer. There’s some papers I want to take a look at before going to my residence.” (Y/N) opened the door of the car, bringing both her legs out onto the sidewalk with a gentle click of her heels. She hesitated before turning back around. Her hand latched onto the top of the sheet that they had used as a handle and dragged the head towards her. “I truly am sorry for my words earlier. One of my bad habits is trying to forget my past, and I let that get to me. If it’s okay, I would like to take back my rude words.”

That was surprising. In the garden, (Y/N) had been so serious and gave off the same feeling that Mori gave off whenever someone questioned his authority. She was authoritative when she spoke of her burned files and her going back on her word of their relationship being nothing more than partners was something he hadn't expected. Thirty minutes ago he’d fully been prepared for her to be just another person he sees at work, but yet here she was apologizing. Every time they spoke it was like talking to another person, but this is the one who he’d met that had no apprehensions brought about by their job; This was the woman who was behind the mask of the mafia.

“I’m not one for friends.” (Y/N) had tried to hide the slight slump of her shoulders at his words, but he noticed the slight change before she stepped out of his car. She closed the door without turning around and began to walk towards the building's entrance. Chuuya rolled the window down and called out. “But I would like to try one of those kkwabaegi you were telling me about.”

She stopped her motions and turned to face him with the smallest of smiles on her face. “You butchered that name.”

“Oh shut up!” He snapped before rolling up the window and speeding off. (Y/N) watched as his car went down the street and eventually turned the corner. Her (E/C) bleary with a tiredness she’d held for so long. They were far from friends, but in the mafia did anyone really have a friend? A life like theirs was not made for relationships greater than the ones they formed at work and that was a fact (Y/N) had learned a long time ago. She didn’t expect anything from Chuuya, but she hoped that maybe when this was all over that there might be someone who wants her to stick around.

“So are you enjoying your new partner?” The voice was deep and sudden, there had been no one around moments before. (Y/N) showed no surprise of this person's newfound presence; She had known the moment he had appeared behind her. “The kids aren’t mad, but they are expecting you to take them out for ice cream. You’d better not disappoint them or I’ll pour all your wine into a bush.”

“Oh come on Isaac, I may not be the most caring person in the world but I wouldn’t disappoint those kids. Not again.” (Y/N) turned to face her friend. Isaac stood with his head turned up as he let out a puff of air and watched as it turned white and then disappeared. He wore the same outfit he wore whenever he was bartending: A dark gray button up tucked into a pair of pitch black jeans, simple but with the added spice of five undone buttons to reveal a well sculpted body beneath. He was a person of habit. “Did you just finish a shift?”

“No? What gave you that idea?” They walked side by side to one another, Isaac’s hand buried in his pocket as they approached the building. 

(Y/N) stopped in her tracks, a deadpan expression replacing the sly smile she’d worn moments before. “You cannot tell me that outfit is the extent of your closet.”

“What the hell is that supposed to mean!” Isaac snapped, hand pulled from his pocket as he balled his fingers into a fist. “I have better fashion than you Ms.I-Dress-Like-An-Cubicle-Worker.”

“Oh quit it, you’re acting so childish, Isaac.” (Y/N) shook her head and walked into the building, neither of the guards questioning her presence much. Her comrade followed her lead and stayed close as though fearful of being found for being out of place. “I thought better of you.”

“Oh shut it you hag, let’s just get this over with.”

~x~

“I doubt there’s anything left at the scene of the fight. Especially if you say it's a city owned warehouse.” Isaac sighed and fell back on his chair before continuing. “They’re easy to access and I doubt that someone willing to go through all the trouble of disposing the body wouldn’t clear that place out.”

Mori sat at his usual spot at the head of the table, silent as he listened to both (Y/N) and Isaac shoot ideas off one another. He seemed enthralled in his own thoughts as he considered a plan of action. They all sat close to one another, Mori at the head of his table with one of them sitting in a chair on either side of the table. So close there was no need for their voices to be raised and that meant that anyone outside would have a hard time listening in.

It was strange for someone so strong and hated like Mori to allow an outsider like Isaac to ever be near him, but after all Mori had done for them both he trusted them more than a lot of the members of the mafia. (Y/N) was his executive and by extension Isaac was loyal, though he would not hold his tongue around him like she would.

“(Y/N), you must have an assumption as to who is behind this. Please clarify who it is.” Mori wanted to hear all the information, even if it might be wrong.

“Is that really even a question, Ougai? You’ve had the same assumption considering you didn’t only bring me back here, but you called a meeting with my old partner.” (Y/N) was apprehensive to continue, her idea had a lot of backing and would likely be true. For now it was only that, an idea, but the more they investigate the closer she’ll get to the life she used to have. “I think it was them. That old man is smart and a drug like this isn’t far from something he’d do.”

Isaac gritted his teeth, trying to find an argument for why it wouldn’t be them. Anything to keep the idea of them coming back out of his mind. They’d spent so much effort to escape their past and join Mori that even a possibility of the past coming back to haunt them was pestilent. “There wasn’t anything left with the part of the body they left behind. It’s protocol to leave them with every single body, you know that.”

“Of course I do, but there are exceptions to that rule! Given a direct order from him you don’t have to-”

“And if it is absolutely impossible, I know.” Isaac cut her off to continue his idea. “Something like this, so large, the old man wouldn’t want to let anyone take credit for it. He wants people to know it's them so they’ll be afraid.”

“There were roses in her garden.”

“You said she had a garden full of flowers of all kinds.” He argued back, hand hitting the table a bit too harshly. “A couple of roses bushes doesn’t fucking matter!”

“Enough.” Mori interjected. He’d taken both Isaac and (Y/N) in at a young age, but they both had a tough time before he found them. They may not have been together these past few years but they are still better partners than any two people who ever graced the mafia. Above all Mori sought to keep things neutral between them both so that they wouldn’t say anything they’d regret when things calmed down. “We have to think rationally and take a moment to talk it over. Neither of you are foolish, I’ve seen the things you can accomplish together but tensions are high right now. For now we assume it’s  one of the recent organizations who have stood against us.”

It was silent for a moment as the pair thought things over. They’d lived a long life with shared pains but they both had managed to come out better for it. Isaac was raising five kids and smiled everyday as though it were his last, on the other hand (Y/N) buried herself in work and drowned herself with expensive delicacies to erase it all. They were like family and neither of them would blame the other for how things went after Oda’s death.

“If it’s not?” Isaac’s voice was low and gravelly as though he were on the verge of tears. It was weak and pitiful, but it explained exactly how they were feeling. “What if it is them, Mori? Do we fight them? We won’t win that.”

“It isn’t them.” (Y/N) cut in before Mori could say a word. “It can’t be. We went through so much to slaughter them during the Dragon’s Head Conflict. The numbers don’t lie, nearly every branch was pruned because of us. To come back now, and with enough people to even consider facing the Port Mafia, is impossible.”

Isaac slid his chair back and stood up, dark eyes more gloomy than they were glossy. “You seem to forget (Y/N), pruning is done to help a plant grow.”

~x~

Chuuya looked from his phone to the fancy hotel he’d parked across the street from. His eyes held hesitation as he scanned across the messages on his device one final time. Part of him wanted to ignore the messages and just go home, but doing this had become a ritual. A guilty pleasure that helped calm his riled nerves.

‘I don’t have work tonight if you want to drop by our special spot.’

‘C’mon Chuuya, at least let me know if you’re going to show up. I need to know if I should open the champagne sooner rather than later.’

‘Fine. I’ll be waiting, but until then let me leave you with a special present.”

‘Attachment: 1 Image’

Chuuya’s eyes scanned across the image once again, to say it was scandalous was an understatement. There was no face presented in the image, instead the picture captured a woman’s body adorned in a set of elegant hand-woven red lace lingerie. He wasn’t unfamiliar with the outfit considering he’d been the one to take it off her many times before.

Their relationship was nothing more than a late at night call whenever they needed to relieve some stress. Neither of them knew much of the other, their names had come the first night they’d grabbed a drink and their sexual desires came soon after. Though there were a few things he noticed: Her schedule was not linear, he’d get spontaneous messages throughout the month asking if he were free. Most of the time he could clear just a bit of time and make his way here to meet with her for a few hours.

They’d been doing this for months at this point and he still couldn’t wrap his head around the stupidity of his actions. Everytime he said he would end things off and never see her again, then as though he were wrapped around her finger he would be back here: Car parked in the same spot as always and his route to the room the same. A member of the mafia took a risk two or three times a month to visit a woman whose life he hadn’t a clue of.

Using his memory, Chuuya made his way through the lobby, passing by a clerk who offered a knowing nod in his direction. It was the same thing time after time but that familiarity was something he clung to. No one questioned him. No one asked why he did something. No one looked to him for answers. It was the opposite of what he did for work, but it was so much more freeing. 

Taking the elevator up, Chuuya watched as the red numbers changed, going up one by one until finally the number fifteen. One final chime echoed through the metal cage and the doors slid open into a long spiraling hallway. Three steps out of the elevator, three doors to the right, and on his left. That path he’d memorized after his third meeting with this strange woman.

With a deep breath Chuuya tried to prepare himself to end this debacle that could become scurrilous if things were to go wrong. He opened the door and slid into the room quietly as though trying to go unnoticed. The sound of a running shwoer gently swayed throughout the room and he knew that she was getting ready for what she presumed to be his imminent arrival. He slid off his cape and hung it on the coat rack besides the door, his hat following suit.

The water shut off and a voice called out to him from somewhere beyond sight. “Oh Chuuya~”

Her voice was sweet as it called, drawing out the a at the end of his name to grab his attention. Getting the message he walked from the main room into the small, but still fairly large, bedroom. There she stood, body wrapped in a white towel that barely covered the most private portions of her body. 

Alberta Einstein. She was a beauty to behold; her almond shaped eyes holding the deepest most dark irises you might ever see as if they were shadows coming to life with no light reflecting off of them. Long  white hair would usually be flowing down her back and sway gently every time she took a step. Her figure was lean but she seemed to have curves in places that would make any man fall in a matter of moments. Now, standing bare in a bath towel, she was ravishing. Droplets of water dripping from her body and onto the floor, running from her neck down to her towel, and more littering the floor of the bathroom.

“I wasn’t sure you would show.” Her feet sunk into the carpet as she walked towards Chuuya, imprints of water marking her chosen pathway. Once close enough, her hand danced around his top button before easily sliding it undone. Slowly she moved to the second button and slowly began to undo it as well, but she hesitated. “Something wrong?”

Her eyes danced up to meet his, a shade so dark that his light blue eyes could never fathom their depths. “We should stop this.”

“You’re quite right, Chuuya. This relationship is going no where and it never will: We’ve been having casual sex for months but neither of us have caught an ounce of feelings.” She leaned into his lips, heat fanning across his face as she spoke, still continuing to fiddle with his buttons. “But isn’t that the fun part, my dearest Nakahara? Life isn’t about love even if people wish it was; It’s about enjoying yourself so much that you can’t possibly find it in your soul to frown.”

She leaned in and finally met his lips in the softest most gentle kiss she’d ever given to him. Her lips were warm as she pressed her body flush against his. With quick hands she undid the buttons at a much faster pace than the one she’d set before. Chuuya knew better than to let her do this once again but he quickly melted into her touch. Their lips entwined with one another as her mouth parted to let a gentle moan escape.

“I must say your sexual prowess surprises me. For such a short man you truly are skilled in bed.” She taunted his height, attempting to mask it with a compliment. They’d played this game time and time before.

“Tch. Same as always Ally, crude and judgemental so much so that you can’t even acknowledge your own shortcomings.” He moved from her lips to just under her ear, teeth grazing against her earlobe and sending a shudder down and throughout her body. “Last time we were together I specifically remember you getting so worked up that you could barely beg for more.”

She smirked and gulped down a large portion of air. Ally was not nervous, it was apparent on her face, instead she was excited. “That’s because I’m not a beggar.”

Chuuya had a response gliding across his tongue but before it could come out the incessant ringing of a phone bleared through the room. Ally let out an audible groan and pushed Chuuya away, hand lingering on his unbuttoned shirt for just a bit too long. Part of him wanted to pull her back but then he reasoned with himself and realized that his wish of ending things could still come true. With the interference of an outsider he had caught the slipup he’d made many times before.

“What the hell do you want, Thomas?” Ally snapped through her phone, she paced back and forth as she listened to the person on the other line. After a moment she stopped dead in her tracks. “You really are useless without me. Fine, fine I didn’t mean it.”

She turned to Chuuya and gave that smile, the same one he’d often give her when his work called him away from the hotel room. Though this time he was pleasantly surprised by the situation. Furthering contact with someone so wrapped in mystery was not beneficial in any way. If anything it was dangerous and reckless. She meant nothing to him and that feeling was mutual, so neither of them had any real attachments to one another. It was best to end things here so that neither of them had too many hard feelings when things would inevitably go bad in a few more months. Casual sex and a freind with benefits was the closest he’d ever get to a real relationship given his line of work, but even that was something he hadn’t saught after much in his time.

“I was busy.” She growled into her phone before taking a deep breath and calming her nerves. After a moment her resolve and anger faded in one swift motion and she sighed. “I’ll be there in fifteen minutes, just wait for me in the meeting room okay?”

With a final goodbye she hung up the phone and tossed it onto the bed. She followed suit with her phone and fell onto the white bedding, face smashing against the soft comforter they would usually be tangled in by now. “This is for the best Alberta. I meant what I said. My job isn’t the most lenient and I don’t need distractions right now, so this is my final goodbye to you.”

She turned to look at him, watching as he redid the buttons she’d worked to undo. Turning over she spread her arms across the bed and closed her eyes. A soft smile tugged at the corner of her lips. “That’s true, my job is also picking up pace right now. We have a big projecting starting and I’d hate to miss out on it because of an outside relationship. Perhaps when things settle down we could meet up again, relive the first we met.”

“That won’t be necessary, when I say final goodbye I mean it.” Her ears perked up and she sat up, realizing now that he had already left the room and slid on his jacket. She heard the door open and then once again his voice rang through her ears. “Find yourself someone who’s actually in love with you, okay? Someone who’s worth your time.”

With those final words, the door closed to the hotel room and she was left alone to her thoughts. Intrigued by the man who she’d enraptured by her beauty. She had no romantic feelings towards him, but she was quite sad that their days of booty calls would no longer be happening.

~x~

Chuuya walked through the halls of the Port Mafia’s building, against the order he’d been giving he returned to headquarters in hopes of catching Mori before he left. Though after travelling up to the top floor he’d come to the conclusion that his boss had already left. He’d likely have gone to get rest for the night or take Elise to do something better than sit around his office.

“Chuuya.” Kouyou’s appearance behind him was sudden, her steps quiet as ever as she approached with her usual long strides. Her dress swayed as she continued by his side. As usual she spoke and moved in a way so elegant that she resembled a goddess. “How is your evening? I could have sworn Mori told you to return to your residence.”

“It’s late Kouyou, you should’ve gone home hours ago.” Chuuya tried to divert the subject from his disobedience, but he knew that even so Kouyou would insist. She was a Port Mafia executive above all else but that did not mean she was heartless. It was fleeting comments that passed by ever so often that reminded him of this; She cared about him in a similar sense to how she cares for Kyouka. “Do you have any idea where Mori might be? It’s late but usually he wouldn’t have left by this time.”

“Last time I saw him, he was meeting with (Y/N) and that handsome young bartender. I always forget his name but he makes the most wonderful cocktails.” Her voice sounded nearly dreamy as she recalled the delicious drinks she’d enjoy ever so often. Kouyou was the type of person who could handle her liquor well, unlike himself, and he’d seen her drink a dozen fruity drinks without ever slurring a single word. It was honestly somewhat startling. “Though I do remember he stormed out and your partner followed close behind. They sounded as though they were having a heated discussion but I was too caught up in a phone call to hear much of what they said.”

“Isaac.” Chuuya said slowly , Kouyou perked up and turned to him with a soft questioning hum. “That’s his name. Why would Mori want to meet with a random bartender? I thought (Y/N) said she was going home.”

The woman next to him chuckled, she pressed the button to call the elevator before turning to him. “I have no clue why Mori would want to speak with that man but I assume he has a reason and we should not question him. As for (Y/N), I’m glad to see you’re getting along with her. You were quite opposed to your partnership during the meeting this morning.”

“Getting along isn’t the phrasing I’d use.” Chuuya grumbled, arms crossing as he turned to face the elevator instead of his mentor. “I don’t trust that woman. She’s hiding something and I’d rather not be staring down the barrel of a gun when I find out what it is.”

They fell into silence, neither of them knowing what to say. Chuuya wasn’t in the wrong for believing she was hiding something, no one who can switch their personality as quick as her is being genuine. Mori trusts her and that is abundantly clear but what isn’t is why he’d never heard of her. Another executive that no one knew of was strange to say the very least. For now he wouldn’t question her much, instead seeing what he can find out without her realizing he’s digging around for information.

Kouyou knew a little of (Y/N), Mori had told her some of the stories about the feats she’d completed during her time in Russia. She knew there was more to the story but if Mori had trust in her to stay loyal to them then it was not her place to question it. One thing was clear to her from the way that her boss spoke: (Y/N) was strong and she is not foolish, and keeping her hidden from everyone was a strategy of the finest creation. He hadn’t told her what his ability is but whatever it was it made her abnormally strong compared to a regular mafioso.

“Your accusation is likely true, she is hiding something from us but I believe that Mori knows exactly what it is. We’ve pledged our lives to the mafia which means we are to have faith in our boss.” Finally after what felt like minutes the elevator door dinged and began to open. “I have a strong feeling that you and your new partner aren’t nearly as different as you’d like to believe… Perhaps I’m just being foolish.”

“You really should be getting some rest, my dear (Y/N).” The voice of Mori coed from the elevator, his slender hands wrapped around her shoulders as he gave them a gentle squeeze. She tried to shrug him off but the further she got from his grasp the tighter his hold became. It was almost as though watching a father taking care of his young daughter, but below the surface they were hiding something. Chuuya and Kouyou had been so enraptured with their own conversation that they hadn’t bore witness to the quiet whisper Mori had slipped to (Y/N) before the doors were all the way open.

“Get off of me you old man!” She shouted, bringing her foot back on his before whirling around. Not noticing his presence, her back bumped against Chuuya’s chest. He stumbled a bit at the sudden added weight but his arms caught around her and steadied them both. Surprised, she turned to face her hero with an utterly sweet smile. “Oh? Hello Chuuya, I didn’t expect to see you again this evening. Did you not have plans to attend?”

Mori perked up at the mention of one of his executives, specifically the one he’d told to take the night off. “Plans fall through often, no big deal. I just thought I’d come to make sure that Mori had been given a full report on what we found.”

“There’s no need to worry Chuuya, (Y/N) has given me a full report and I have faith that your digging tomorrow will bring more information to light.” Mori straightened himself from the endearing man they’d seen moments ago. His voice had a cold demeanor as it always had when he spoke with them, though when he spoke with her it seemed he had a similar attitude to the one he used when communicating with Elise. “I have faith in the both of you to prove your worth as executives. May you prove my assumptions right that your partnership was not in vain, then perhaps I could be persuaded to give you both a raise befitting your work.”

(Y/N)’s eyes searched up Mori, her gaze travelling from his gloved hands up to his rigid smiling face. It was clear to her that he was faking every word and gesture as if hoping to give his two closest advisors a false sense of security. His whisper still rang in her ear, ‘For now, act as if our conversation with Isaac never happened. You are, and only are, an executive of the Port Mafia.’ The message was clear with what he wanted but the intent behind it was a mystery. Had he meant it as a form of comfort to remind her that her past was not to stop her from having a future, or was it a warning to keep up the act as a perfect mafia princess and play the diplomat role, perhaps it was neither and simply a reminder that her life has only ever been that of a pawn. Any way he went about saying it, there was obvious fabrication of joy in his face.

“Thank you, sir.” Chuuya took a low bow before his boss and Kouyou offered a small courtesy. “Though I would like to speak with you about a few things when you have the time.”

Mori looked from Chuuya to (Y/N) as though he were asking her what questions she’d brought about from Chuuya, but all she did was shrug in response. He would either ask about her past and her file or he would bring up the fact that their partnership was not in the best of graces. “I truly would love to speak with you about this Chuuya, but Elise has been waiting on me for hours! Tomorrow morning I should have a bit of free time if that’s okay.”

“That will be fine, thank you sir.”

“Now, as your boss, I must request that you all get some rest. Specifically you (Y/N). I know that bad habit of yours and I’d prefer it if it didn’t interfere with your work.” Mori’s words confused the two people who didn’t know much about her habits, but she understood it well enough. He had made a jab at her constant desire to work and the way she would stay awake until the point of utter exhaustion. It was a bad habit she’d had for a long time; But it was part of the reason she got so much work done. “Please do watch your phones in case there’s an emergency, but if there is not then enjoy your time off.”

Mori stalked away from the group and in the direction of his meeting room. “Well I should be going as well, I’ve got some place to be. May you both have a goodnight.” (Y/N) wasted no time in excusing herself from the situation, wanting nothing more than to find her way to a place she’d been meaning to visit since she returned to Yokohama.

“Do you need a ride?” Chuuya was not fond of (Y/N), and that feeling went both ways, but his partner had done nothing to wrong him yet. Until she did so, he would be kind and offer her a ride. Kouyou smiled to herself but used her fan to hide it; The gesture earned a glare from Chuuya. “I don’t mind, I’ve got a stop to make before I return to my apartment anyway.”

“That won’t be necessary, but thank you for the offer Chuuya.” (Y/N) stepped into the elevator and gave a small wave before the doors began to close and seal her away from them both. “Tomorrow afternoon, don’t forget okay?”

With that she was gone.

[ruubles]

A Bundle of Crimson Roses (Pt.2)

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3

Pairings: Chuuya Nakahara x Reader

Warnings: Cursing , Alcohol , Suggestive Themes , Gore , Blood, Violence

Word Count: 7,234

“It has been quite some time since I was last in this room, four years if my memory serves me correctly.” (Y/N)’s hands entwined themselves with one another, nails digging harshly into the subtly soft skin along the back of her hand. Across the table were numerous pairs of eyes trailed along every movement as if at any moment she would seize the opportunity to kill. If it had been back before her leave, then perhaps she would’ve taken the gamble and gone for such a kill; But time has its way of weakening even the strongest of wills

“I believe you’re right. The last meeting you attended was just before you had taken the position in Russia.” There was no helping the sharp laugh that scratched through her throat, bleeding into the air as if it were a snarl from a wild beast. Ogai quirked an eyebrow as he took his rightful spot at the head of the table, it was as though he hadn’t remembered that day the same as she had.

It had been merely a week after Oda’s passing and without Dazai, Mori knew of no way to keep her ability under his control: Everyone in the Port Mafia was under high pressure with the sudden disappearance of an executive. The people under her command during that time must have informed Ogai of a sudden increase in impulsive decisions because before there was time to fix it she had been called to his office. There wasn’t room for objection when he informed (Y/N) of her new position, a reassignment to the Russian wing of the mafia effective immediately. That same night she was on a plane flying two thousand miles away from the only home she’d ever known. 

That was four years ago and the most that had been heard from the boss were small orders spread thinly across the months, each one less and less specified until he had eventually stopped communication all together. It had been for the better benefits of both parties, without Ogai constantly looking over her shoulder she was truly able to help the mafia flourish and even go as far as berading the Russian Mafia into equal standing. Without the threat of her abilities looming in his ranks, Mori had taken over a large deal of the weapons smuggling in Japan which in turn had nearly doubled the yearly profits.

“Taking the position would imply that it had been offered, where I am certain it had been ordered. You hadn’t given me the choice to stay or to go before you handed me an executive order and told me to make my way to the headquarters.” Their gazes met from across the table, his eyes as cold as the continuous fall of snow that occured on a daily basis in Russia. Her words seemed to have sparked a memory in his steelin eyes, glossing them over as he recalled what the happenstance for her leave had been.

Russia wasn’t that bad of a place, it was actually quite the opposite once she had managed to sort through the chaos that was the mafia. It had only taken a month to reclaim almost all of the Far East and once that area was under her command, SIberia was quick to follow suit. Though Ural had been a warzone for a year before they managed to snuff out any traces of the Russian Mob, but by defying odds, they managed to come out of it with the lesser amount of casualties. As of now there are attempts to make connections in Volga, though it is slow moving since the mob seemed to know every move that had been planned to make. The northwestern, central, and north regions are still under the unwavering control of the mob: People loyalties didn’t seem to change even as they watched the rise in strength of the Port Mafia.

Southern Russia was a whole different tale for both sides. It was a no man's land filled to the brim with rats. No matter how long they fought with the mob, both sides had come to terms with the liabilities faced with the presence of such insullant people in what had been claimed as their land. Both could kill each other ruthlessly for months, but in the end they’d both agreed that the destruction of Dostoevsky was to come first and foremost: He posed a greater threat even with such slim numbers.

“My apology, it must have slipped my mind at some point since your departure. It was quite a hectic time for us all.” Ogai lowered his gaze, no longer holding that insufferable chill but instead what resembled some sorts of regret. For the seven years (Y/N) had been working under him, she hadn’t seen him hold such a sorrowful look since the Dragon’s Head Conflict. Even then it was more ruth than regret, he hadn’t been sorry for the lives that were lost but for those who survived to hold their memory. Ogai Mori focused on the future and honored those that had paid for it with their lives, he hadn’t time to mourn their passing.

“Hectic is an understatement. It was chaotic.” Her hands fiddled with the fork, a chunk of chocolate cake still sitting soundly on its tip. It had nearly forgotten as they’d moved to a topic she’d tried so desperately to forget. Now it seemed to be the only thing that could capture her attention. “Any word on Dazai? Last time he and I spoke was before Oda’s death and then he was gone.”

“He resurfaced two years ago working under the Armed Detective Agency.” Ogai seemed delighted to change the topic, but he wanted even more to return to why she’d been brought back to Japan. He wouldn’t be as rude as to force the conversation to go back to it but eventually they'd need to delve deeper into the issue they were facing. For now, a sense of normality should be rebuilt to keep everybody in the organization calm.

“Yukichi been giving you a hard time Ogai?” Yukichi Fukuzawa and Mori Ogai had both done a large favor for her shortly after she’d agreed to work under the mafia’s guidance, though the two fought for opposing goals. Her situation had managed to bring them to a mutual point of interest- one that brought reward for both parties involved. If it hadn’t been for their aid then both her and Isaac would likely be far different people than the ones who work so diligently to protect the few things they’d managed to so selfishly cling to for these years. “That old man is as hard headed as ever I assume. It must be difficult for any of you to make any progress in furthering your goals.”

Ogai nodded and with nimble fingers took off his gloves, the white material slipping off digit after digit to reveal the pale skin that seemed to radiate with a grim promise of light. If it wasn’t for the blood that stained them red he would surely be seen as an angel. Usually Mori preferred to keep his gloves on, but in the presence of someone who could now be considered of equal status it was more so a show of distrust. This was his motion to return the conversation to the topic that has been standing still in the room, even if we diverted the people’s ears to something else their minds would still be clouded with the possibility of losing their abilities. A simple gesture that spoke so much if you had the skill that was required to read the motions of other people. She had been taught that skill for longer than I could remember, it had become more of a curse than a blessing.

“Everyone’s been briefed on the bare minimum of the situation we’re facing and I’d like to know if you could add anything to it (Y/N).” Mori had already given as much as he knew of what they are up against and finding more was difficult to say the least. Information brokers had their loyalties but fear outweighed even the motion of getting paid for a job, but that fear gave hints as to who exactly could manufacture a drug like this one.

(Y/N) put the final piece of cake down, it had been on her fork for several minutes and yet she hadn’t found the heart to take the final bite. So many thoughts had found their way into her mind and dug into scorned memories that it made it difficult to even consider stomaching the delicious sweets from Ms.Young’s bakery. 

Information was an important detail when it came to dealing with any affair, but finding any regarding this new threat would be more difficult than anyone could have thought. Assumptions made by (Y/n) always had a habit of playing out in one way or another. but with something so dangerous threatening to cut at our numbers, it was important that they worked more on fact than fiction.

“I’ve contacted seven brokers in the past twelve hours, none of them have any news on this drug you’re talking about. If it actually does exist then it’s a miracle you even found out about.” She grabbed the papers she’d brought with her and pushed the near finished plate of cake to the side. Fingers ran along the edges of the sheets filled with useless nonsense that wouldn’t help formulate even the simplest of plans. “Mori I need you to be honest with me, how did you find out about this drug.”

“One of our members got shot during a raid this week.” Her eyes moved up from the paperwork to the elder man sitting by Koyo, Ryuro Hirotsu. The black lizards were skilled members of the Port Mafia so being able to take down one of their members was an accomplishment to say the least. “Whoever manufactured that type of bullet knew what they were doing: She had completely lost her ability within five minutes of it being administered.”

“Where are they now?” 

“Gone. Assassinated in her own home last night .” Everyone in the room could practically feel the anger radiating from Tachihara, his fists clenched the edge of the table as he gave his enraged answer. The Mafia was seen as cruel and heartless but even they cared for the lives of their members, their friends. Even people like (Y/N) who hadn’t found a close comrade would still take the time to learn the names and faces of those they would be working with: She herself had taken several hours to do so last night in hopes of knowing the majority of the people who would be attending this meeting.

A deep sigh rasped through her chest, chipping at the calm demeanor she’d managed to hold to since her return. Her head fell back and a loud smack was heard as it came into contact with the wooden back of the chair. Things never seemed to work out in favor of the young executive: You could see as such by the way her (E/C) eyes flickered with such hopeless pain and then returned to their usual gravely glare.

Chuuya watched his new partner with interest, his curiosity from last night now coming to a peak as he learned new bits of information about the woman who he’d only briefly spoken with. It seemed as though she was on good enough terms with Mori but that still didn’t gain his trust: In his line of work, it was important to hold his hand close to his chest as to not allow any scurrilous people to see who he’d become close with. For now he would hold his complaints with an overstrung tongue until she did what he expected from anyone who came close nowadays; Leave him to rot without a second thought as to how much of a pain it would be to fill the void they’d created.

“Have you moved the body?” Her head still remained laxed as she asked the question, addressing it to anyone who had an answer to give. It was as though such simple words had deflated her hopes, jabbing at any resilient confidence that she’d held to throughout the restless night. 

“No.” Tachihara was quick to answer with a stern but simple response that left no room for doubt.

“There it is.” (Y/N) leaned forward, (H/L) hair masking her face in a cascading shadow. Her eyes trailed along the table as though she was placing pieces of a puzzle together, each one falling into its designated place as all those sitting around Mori’s table awaited her explanation. Chuuya leaned forward in anticipation to hear what this new comrade was saying. “The first lead.”

Around the table people collected their ideas and made harsh implications as to who exactly this mystery executive was. Out of the dozen people sitting solemnly in the room, only three had any prior knowledge of her and they made the correct decision not to hold a crude attitude towards her. Mori had, of course, known of (Y/N) for the longest time of the three: Having met her when she was only fifteen, several months after he’d taken the place of the former boss. Kouyou had shared little words with her but knew of her abilities to maintain such a high position in the mafia with what seemed to her as little effort. Hirotsu had merely known her name and had been tasked with keeping her under guard until this meeting, though he had ultimately failed, seeing as she managed to slip away only an hour after their first conversation.

 (Y/N) pushed her chair away with a loud screech that seemed to push away the silence still filling the room. Her hands made deft work of the paper, their corners aligning in mere seconds as she ran her hands along their sides. The final piece of cake still laid untouched on the plate that now sat abandoned atop the table. Without a second glance, she turned, (E/C) eyes set sharply on the door, feet moving with gentle clicks of her heel; Her motions could be deemed practiced as she so confidently strode away from some of the most heinous criminals in the city. “Do you fear me?”

The room's quizzing thoughts seemed to come to a stop all at once, everyone’s eyes drifting back to the woman who was only inches from the door. Chuuya was prepared to follow her from the room, as they were now partners, but he stayed still with a significant interest in what she was saying.  Of course she hadn’t meant to address any of those around the room as they had seen nothing of what abilities she truly possessed; Mori had.

“With your vehement skills I doubt there are many who do not fear for their life in your presence. I’ve been lucky to keep your loyalties under my reign, so I will not make the mistake of giving an answer to this question.” Mori stood, gloved hands folded behind his back in an almost arrogant manor. “I must commend how powerful you are (Y/N). Far beyond what I’d expected when I’d first had the pleasure of meeting you.”

Her laugh was gentle, like the crimson petals of a rose dripping with fresh morning dew in the fields of Elysium. It was a pleasant sound that caught any person’s ear and forced their head to her. “You are far more reserved than many of the people I’ve met in my lifetime, but I quite like that quality. Mori Ogai, may your rule over the mafia be beneficial to this city.”

Without another word, she left.

~ x ~

Chuuya hesitantly looked over to the passenger of his car, his vermillion eyes trapped by her hunched figure. (Y/N)’s eyes scanned over the passing city, lights twinkling in the gloomy darkness of the night. The two hadn’t spoken to one another since (Y/N) had made her departure from the meeting; Their current situation had come about when she’d seen Chuuya leaving and he motioned for her to join him. He’d had a plan to speak with her but the silence that followed his gracious offer had swatted away that idea near instantaneously

This scenario hadn’t gone to either of their likings, Chuuya had wanted to go alone without the burden of another partner weighing him down. Yet when he saw her standing still in the setting light, waiting for something,  he had the urge to strike up what would hopefully be another exhilarating conversation. Perhaps that was his desire to know who he’d be working with in these coming days in fear that they would become someone similar to his last partner.

On the other hand, (Y/N) didn’t mind either way if he were to accompany her or not. She’d been standing before the mafia’s headquarters waiting for a car that Mori claimed would pick her up soon, but after ten minutes she’d given up hope and decided instead to join Chuuya. Personally, she’d wished to make her way to the scene as soon as she’d left the meeting, but Mori hadn’t given her the go ahead until the sun began to set. It had been an annoying situation in her opinion but with the added hours of recreational time she’d managed to check-in with the mafioso who’d taken to running the Russian portion of the Port Mafia in her absence. Everything was going according to plan, which would mean that hopefully she’d be flying back to Russia within the week.

A quiet ring fluttered through the stifling silence but neither of them made a move for their phones. Chuuya could see his dark screen, without any sign of contact from his underlings. He knew it had to be her who was receiving a call but never did she move to answer; Instead her eyes, hollow and void, stayed trailed on the passing buildings. Soon those towering works of architecture would turn to natural tree’s of a forest as they neared their destination. After several minutes, the phone’s ring stopped only to start a moment later.

Sighing, (Y/N) reached into her pocket and pulled the phone to where she could see it. Her hands made quick work to silence the ringer but she didn’t ignore the call. Instead she pressed the answer button and brought the device to her ear. “What’s up?”

“Where are you?” Isaac was quick to the point, annoyance obvious in the way his loud words stabbed through her ear. Chuuya heard mumbled shouts through the line but couldn’t quite make out what was being said. “Dinner’s ready and I’ve yet to even receive a message from you, so I’m going to make the assumption that you haven’t even left the office yet.”

“I’ve left the office.” (Y/N)’s eyed the street as Chuuya made a sharp right turn, it was a clean motion that made it clear he was well acquainted with his car. “But I don’t think I’ll be able to make it in time. Mori has me doing some recon with a new partner.”

“Are you fucking kidding me!” Isaac snapped through the phone, she could only imagine the look of anger that had likely appeared on his face from her honest claim. Her plan had been to take her time checking out the scene then be back to town in time for Isaac to take her home, but Mori had put her in a bit of disposition. Instead, it was late and she wouldn’t be back in town for a while. “If I had my ability connected to you then I’d drag you here myself, but I guess this can’t be helped. You better make it up to them though; Disappointing me is a usual occurrence for you but they deserve more than that.”

Chuuya felt a bit bad as he could see the tiredness on her face and he knew that whoever was shouting on the other end of the line wasn’t helping. He watched as she took a deep breath, chest beginning to rise and fall in a pattern. “I’ll find a way. Have a nice night.”

Not long after she’d wish him a nice night did Isaac hang up the phone, two beeps signaling the ending of the phone call. She pocketed the device and leaned into the window once more, heat from her body causing fog to slowly creep along the once clear glass. Chuuya opened his mouth as if he wanted to ask a question, but there was little he could think to say as he watched her dissociate from her surrounding environment. Part of him believed she was naive, joining him in his car without even asking a question and the way she trusted him enough to turn her back to him in such a confined space, but he didn’t see her reflection. Though the latter was far different, her eyes had been glued to his reflection in the window from the moment she’d situated herself in his passenger seat; She waited for the moment he’d make an attempt to do something, anything, but it never came.

“Thank you for the ride.” It had taken a half hour for either of them to brave past the awkwardness inside the car and her tone was quiet as if she didn’t truly want to say them, but Chuuya took the moment to continue on. 

“It’s no problem, I’d just finished up some paperwork and thought you could use a ride if we’re going to the same place. We are going to the same place, right?” The sudden realization hit that he hadn’t a clue where she wanted to go and he wanted to be sure that their destination was agreed upon. “The crime scene?”

(Y/N) chuckled at his distressed words, “That would be correct.”

Once again a silence overtook the car, their momentary conversation coming to an end after only a short share of sentences. (Y/N) had taken to her phone, it's screen alight as she scrolled through what seemed to be countless messages. After several minutes of reading she began to click away a very sternly worded message to one of her subordinates. Chuuya went back to driving, his eyes ever so often glancing at his GPS to ensure he was still driving in the right direction.

“You never answered my question.” (Y/N) slammed her phone down on her lap and Chuuya pretended not to notice her obvious anger. Chuuya quirked a brow at her question, head turning to meet her (E/C) eyes in the darkness. She was obviously tired with the way her eyes sunk into her skull and the bags presented them self so sternly. “Did you enjoy the wine?”

“Oh. Yeah, I did. It was quite the bottle, didn’t think I’d be drinking anything that fancy last night.” His face turned sour at an unpleasant memory. “Also didn’t think I’d be drinking as disgusting as the one your friend offered me.”

“In Isaac’s defense, I did ask him for the shittiest bottle he had on the shelf. Apparently it’s the one he gives to people he doesn’t like.” She smiled and turned her phone over when a message made the screen turn on once again. “Might explain why he gave it to me.”

“I thought you two looked close, was my assumption of friends not correct?”

(Y/N) dropped her head, skull smacking against the headrest as she let out a bitter laugh once again. “Isaac and I are a lot more than friends, but it doesn’t mean that I don’t hate him a majority of the time. He’s quite pretentious.”

“You’re different from that woman I met last night; More uptight, scrutinous. That woman who stole my hat wouldn’t have asked a mafia boss if he was scared of her.”

“What can I say, I have many different faces. Same could be said for you Mr.Nakahara.” (Y/N) jabbed at his last name, using a formality that he didn’t truly enjoy. Not many called him by his last name, though it was seen as informal in Japan, and he preferred it that way. “You seem a lot more relaxed than when you were yelling at that young man in the hallway this morning.”

Chuuya’s face fell as he recalled this morning's events: The hangover had only heightened his senses and formed a brutal knot that attacked his head throughout the day. While on his way to the meeting he’d had a run-in with a newer mafioso who had purposely bumped shoulders with Chuuya thinking he was better than the executive himself. That had ended in quite the outburst on the executives half, it had been loud but it got the point across. Disrespect was intolerable in Chuuya’s eyes and the ache in his head had only been nurtured by the yelling he’d done, so of course his anger at the newer member only increased as the day went on. He knew it was wrong but there was little he’d have done differently.

“He was a little punk.” Chuuya grumbled.

They both fell back into a silence, but it no longer rang with an unsaid tension or insatiable curiosity. Instead it seems to flutter with a peaceful wisp of camaraderie as both parties came to a mutual understanding: Neither of them wanted to be partners but until they could find a way out of this arraignment, they might as well do the bare minimum and get along with one another. It would be better not to build any new alliances to the core of the port mafia considering as soon as this was solved, (Y/N) would be flying back to Russia and likely wouldn’t maintain contact with anyone she’d met during her time here.

Finally, after what seemed to span the length of hours, Chuuya made the final turn into a large driveway. Whoever had passed was surely paid well during their time at the mafia. The driveway was circular, encasing a large tree with withered branches that seemed to scratch the star filled sky. Two cars were parked in front of a large house that seemed to hold remnants of classical French architecture, several hints of Japanese style building melded nicely with the classical look. It stood tall, enclosed by shorter surrounding trees, but it was still welcoming; Every part of it held a feeling of home as if someone had spent their whole life building wonderful memories inside the building.

(Y/N) was the first to leave the car, not waiting for any gestures of chivalry from the man who had been kind enough to drive her so far from the city. She’d realized quite a long time ago that people would do the bare minimum to help you but would ask for the world in return. Chuuya was quick to follow her lead, hand working to take the key from the ignition before leaving his car and being sure to lock it. The two walked fairly far from one another, their eyes wandering in case there were any unwarranted guests still lurking in the area. 

The steps to the front door were quickly scaled, Chuuya using an unnecessary amount of his ability to propel himself up the half a dozen stone stairs. (Y/N) took the steps in pairs and in a moment was standing beside her newly assigned partner: Her eyes began to wander along his body, gathering every bit of his appearance to her memory- from the choker wrapped snugly around his neck and down to the slight heels of his boots. A light red coated his feet for a moment before eventually dissipating; She was left to assume it was his ability, Gravity Manipulation.

She’d spent her night researching the many new people who’d been taken to working under Mori in her absence; Many of them had dark and depressing tales, but she didn’t judge for her’s wasn’t much better. Instead she took note of which part of their past might have pushed them to be considered a vain and villainous member of the Port Mafia: Motives often told if someone would inevitably betray you. Yet the most elusive of them all seemed to be her partner himself, even if he were an executive she should still have had access to any documentation of his early life. Nothing. No mention of a family, no close friends, no reason to live a life like this.

All she got from an hour of scouring documents was his ability, an address, and several mission reports that when looked at through her perspective made little to no sense. Perhaps if she had been closer with Dazai around that time frame then some parts of it would have made more sense: King of Sheep, Arahabaki, Rando. Her only connections to Dazai during those few years were their shared title of executive, several miniature missions during the Dragon’s Head Conflict, and Oda. None of it had made for long, friendly conversations; She was much like him in some ways, never attending the meetings where she might have met Chuuya, but unlike him she never was one to take to a partner or a trainee. Another person would only get in her way.

She was a shadow, faceless to all but those closest to her, feared by those who knew of her power: Mori made sure that her true identity remained furtive. One thing every person opposing the Mafia knew was that trust was never an option, it would only take a single wrong assumption before they’d be stabbed in the back by what was thought to be their friend. Once the Dragon’s Head Conflict had come to an end anybody who knew of her true identity had gone missing under what is still considered ‘Mysterious Circumstances’, of course there were several who still knew what she was capable of but those were the people that there was no need to kill: They were either an ally or to far in her past to matter during that time.

Lost in thought, she was only returned when Chuuya attempted to open the door, soon to realize that it remained locked, a disappointed groan rasped through his chest. He had thought that whoever had been here last might’ve had the common sense to leave it unlocked for when the next investigators were to arrive. The house didn’t officially have an address so supposedly the only people who knew of it were those in the mafia; Well now that list would also include whoever had taken her life. Perhaps it was best that they didn’t have a way into the building, it was very late and (Y/N) seemed to be tiring rather quickly. Chuuya was in a similar stance, his vermilion eyes sunken with the pain of an unending headache.

“Well this is a major bust.” Chuuya made a turn and began to make his way back to his car, its black nearly hiding it in the darkness of the night. After a moment he realized that the presence beside him was missing as (Y/N) still stood rooted to her spot before the large doors. The two waited in silence, Chuuya’s eyes on her and her eye’s on the door blocking her from completing the job. 

(Y/N) reeled her leg back, jumpsuit clutching to every inch of her body except for her hands and face- (S/C) fingers balled into fists as she prepared for the incoming impact to the door, face rigid with seriousness but still being just as beautiful as it had been gleaming in the bar light. She was the definition of perfect with a body handcrafted by whatever god pulled the strings of life, it was strange to see how all her little imperfections came together to make something so stunning. Chuuya hadn’t time to admire any of that, instead his focus remained on the fact that she had only the need for a single kick to take the doors down. Their hinges creaked under the force before the doors well flat to the ground with a loud thud.

“No need for a door if she’s dead.” Her words would come off as heartless to anyone, but Chuuya understood what she meant by it. To the latter it was merely her way of saying that they’d come this far and without anyone living inside the building there wasn’t much of a need for a door anymore. Perhaps he should have been angry with the way that she’d worded it, so cruel to a fallen friend of his, but there wasn’t a need to strike an argument over something so trivial. He understood well enough that people in this line of work weren’t ones to usually feel remorse at the loss of a life.

She was first to enter the house, not waiting for her partner to say anything more as she set out to find the truth as to what exactly was the reason behind her return. Mori had given her little information and no broker in the city seemed to know anything so the last hope was dissecting the body of their fallen comrade. Of course she felt forlorn, she hadn’t known this woman but yet was asking her to sacrifice her body for the sake of others. (Y/N) had killed, there was no denying that, but even after all the lives she’d taken, she still wasn’t numb.

Numbness would only succumb when the light of her own eyes dwindled from its constant flicker to a mere ashy stare. Hundreds have died at her hand and she felt little remorse, but every person was like a scar- digging their scared nails across her skin as she killed without mercy. The first scratch always hurts the worst but with every new person falling to their knees before her, the pain slowly begins to fade; But it was still there, in the very depths of her mind. After so many years she might as well just be considered numb; Her dither long since gone and any guilt for the torutre she’d put people through had slowly leaked from her mind as if it were an open drain. Their lives meant little to her, only stepping stools to allow her to climb to her status at the top.

The house was dark, itching with a silence that crept along the corners in fear of being smothered by rattling steps. Chuuya noticed the uneasy air as he walked mere steps behind (Y/N), it was as though the silence itself had taken a conscious form and was preparing to strangle them in a single moment. Their steps mixed to one in a dance of paired solitude and both their breaths seemed to do the same: In seperate bodies they became one to make the sounds of their presence near indistinguishable. In that moment their minor disagreements had faded and they became a team made in heaven but fallen to the hellish life of the mafia. If anyone were to still be in that house then their life would likely soon be ended.

(Y/N) was the first to come to the end of the hall, her steps coming to a halt in a matter of seconds as she scanned the large open area. The hall they passed through had only been twenty paces through the door, meaning that whoever had broken in to commit the crime had either been very quiet or came in via a different route. They had passed several doors along their way but nothing inside them had caught her attention; An office in pristine shape with papers stacked high atop its glimmering wooden surface, a closet only half full of shoes and clothing that likely belonged to a mixture of genders, and a bathroom with a set of standard mission clothes laying on its tile floor. In her mind (Y/N) could see what had happened that night: She had entered her home and quickly stripped from her blood soaked clothing, as for the rest she would likely find more the further she explored the house.

Whoever this woman had been, she had quite the taste in architecture. The hall led into an area that seemed to act as a living room of sorts, a couch and television situated by a large wall of windows. On the other side of the glass was a large garden with paths leading further into the depths of its secrets. To the left was a floating staircase that led to the second story and to the right was a kitchen, only separated from the living room by a marble island.

“I’ll search upstairs and you can take it down here.” Chuuya pushed by (Y/N) as he spoke, his voice low enough so that only she could hear. He doubted that anyone was still in the house, even if there were then they likely knew of their presence, but being cautious in these times would not only keep himself safe but his partner as well. “If you need help then don’t be afraid to call.”

He didn’t wait for a response as he climbed the stairs and disappeared into the depths of the darkness. Standing alone in the center of the house made her surroundings feel so much larger, the space behind her was no longer radiated with warmth. Upstairs she could hear the creak of the floorboards as Chuuya walked down the halls, (Y/N) focused her sights on the kitchen and slowly crept over. Her hand ran along the smooth white walls and finally, upon stepping foot on the kitchen tiles, she felt the light panel beneath her fingers.

She flipped the switch and the light hanging from the ceiling lit the room with a brightness that not even the moon could provide at this hour. Without the darkness lingering through the air (Y/N) was finally able to properly see the area around her. It was sparkling and clean, pristine as though it had been cleaned thoroughly the day before. No blood, no body, and certainly no danger. It was almost peaceful.

Almost.

(Y/N) could see the splatter of blood drenching the cushions of the light gray sofa, the red looked almost black from so far away but she knew the truth behind it. When blood is dried then it darkens and the stain is likely to never be clean from the surface. The woman had rid herself of her blood stained clothes and used a towel to wash away the visible streaks on her skin (It was impossible to erase the ones along her soul) and had rested upon the couch to recuperate from such a burdensome mission; Then she had been killed. Mori had said the body would be covered with a sheet in preparation of dissection, but yet there was no sheet in sight.

Someone had been here long before their arrival, and that person was no friend of the mafia. Whoever had come here and disturbed the scene had taken the body as to prevent any information from being extracted: With the blood having been left out for so long there was likely little remaining information to be collected from it. The body was gone and so were any of the leads that had been left with it. The only hope they had now was if those that had discovered the body before them had been wise enough to at least collect some samples of their DNA.

(Y/N) sighed and left the kitchen, light still fluttering throughout the bottom most floor of the house. Her feet clicked gently against the wooden floors as she slowly walked towards the blood stained couch. The blood clashed violently with the white cushions and it was obvious that her death had been the cause of blood loss, one large pool and several surrounding droplets proposed the idea of a knife wound rather than a gunshot.

She turned away from the stain in an almost defensive manner and scanned the rest of the area, eyes clawing through the darkness searching for something that wasn’t quite there. “Did you find anything down here?”

“Missing body. Cause of death likely a knife wound.” Chuuya jumped down the last two steps and stalked towards her, hands in his pocket. He walked past her and to the couch, his hand trailing along the top of the cushion and down to the stain.

“You figured all of that out from a couple of blood stains?” He nearly chuckled at the confidence that laced itself through her analyses. 

“If it were poison there wouldn’t have been a blood stain. Gunshot wounds would be more splattered and less centered around a focal point. Whether it be a stab or a slice across the neck, a knife would cause the blood to drip to a specific point. It’s simple enough logic.” (Y/N) wasn’t paying attention to Chuuya as she spoke, her explanation dripping methodically from her mouth as her (E/C) eyes locked onto something. 

The back doors gleamed with reflections of the kitchen's light, but through that bright light were shadows. Dark and dripping with mystery they encased the gazebo in an unnatural darkness. Chuuya continued to talk about what they were to do now, but his words fell on deaf ears as (Y/N)’s hand reached for the door handle. With one hard pull the door slid to the side and made an opening more than large enough for her to pass through. It seemed as though Chuuya hadn’t noticed as he continued to look around the lower floor to look at the stains on the couch.

With little hesitation, (Y/N) left the warmth of the house's walls and stepped into the cold breeze of the autumn outdoors. Her shoes had a different click as they went from the hardwood floor to a pathway of large rocks. The backyard was large and spiraled with countless flowers that danced in the moonlight, hundreds of bushes that still seemed to bloom even in the coming winter. Rows of Lilacs scatter around, their purple clashing violently with the numerous roses bushes scatter about, the red petals dancing with the color of blood and making (Y/N) cringe. They were such beautiful flowers, but they lulled people in with their beauty and then painted their petals red with their victims blood.

The closer she stepped to the gazebo, the more she noticed the shadows retreating as her eyes adjusted to the environment. Finally she was able to see what she had actually caught sight of from the house.

A head, severed from its body laid in a small pool of dried blood, far less than there should have been. It was clear that the head was from the victim, her long hair was matted with blood and the area where her neck met the concrete had gnarled skin and cuts that had scabbed with dried blood. Her eyes were open, glossed over as though she were still alive and trapped in a trance. Her mouth was slightly agape, trails of blood running from the corners of her mouth and down her face.

[ruubles]

A Bundle of Crimson Roses (Pt.1)

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3

Pairing: Chuuya Nakahara x Reader

Warnings: Alcohol , Cursing , Mentions of Violence , Suggestive Dialogue 

Word Count: 6,180

Chuuya’s eyes scanned across the scene unfolding inside the dim lit bar: Their vermilion blue watching as the patrons cheered and drank their sanity away with glasses of liquor. The source of their blissful unrest was a woman, her height far surpassing most in the bar as she held up a glass filled to the brim with what seemed to be vodka. Her smile seemed to radiate light even in the darkened room as she poured some of the liquid from her glass to theirs. A smile as pure as the chill that nipped its way through the skin, weaved in and out of view as she passed along the intoxicating drink to the numerous men gathering around her.

Though Chuuya had been to this bar many times, he’d never once seen a person who even reassembled the one passing along the beverage. Most of the time the bar was quiet and filled with a content array of individuals who sought only to drink away burdensome memories, but with every passing moment the number of rowdy men seemed to grow. The time of ease had passed long before he’d arrived, likely some time before midnight, and as the clock scrapped its way past three no one showed any signs of returning to the way it had usually been. He found it very annoying, his peaceful night disturbed by someone who he’d never seen step foot inside the bar he so often visited.

She was tall, towering over most men in the room by several inches, her height without heels would surely surpass six feet but with the added inches she was a head above all. The brilliant black hair bounced in curls as she swayed to the gentle music flowing through the unrelenting chatter of the men, even from afar he could see how well groomed the tassels of hair that fell across her face seemed to be. He could see why the men in the room had taken a liking to her, she was beyond beautiful in comparison to the woman who usually kept to themselves in the corner of the bar: Much like how he sat now, analyzing the woman who’d started this boisterous night so many hours ago. Even though he’d watched her take many a sip from the bottle in her hand, she showed no sign of intoxication, but with every added bit of alcohol entering her system the deep color of rust gleamed brighter in her eyes.

Looking down at his phone, the screen flickering to light in the palm of his hand, he took note of the passing of time. Nearly an hour had gone by since he’d made his way to the table nestled sweetly into the corner of the room, it was the best spot to sit for observation with a clean view of the entire floor. Several message notifications popped up but none important enough to tear him away from this night: Though he was not nearly as drunk as he’d desired to be, he still wished to eventually reach that point. The events leading up to this desire for a heedless night of drinking were long and tedious: Mori had pushed numerous assignments onto his hands, all of which were to be completed before the days end, thus making for a long strenuous day.

Sighing he clicked the button on the side of the device, its screen dying in the palms of his hand to leave only his own reflection staring back. Tiredness fluttered across his expression as he saw the way bags sat unmoving under his eyes and for a moment he contemplated leaving the bar. Had he gotten a second drink when he finished his first then this thought would be far gone, but with only the lightest bit of fuzz trickling through his mind it seemed to ring in the space between his ears. This night had meant to be calm and allow for a bit of relaxation but as the scandalous men continued to slur their speeches of undying love for the woman, it showed no signs of peace.

His head fell back, red hair falling softly atop the black leather of the bar seat as he watched the ceiling so high above head. Raising a hand he blocked the brightest of lights and focused on the ones that had burned out quite a long time ago: They had worked so hard to brighten such a dim shop and yet they were left for dead. It crossed his mind that maybe this would be himself. Chuuya had dedicated his life to the Port Mafia and continued to work everyday under Mori’s substantial leadership, but when the day was done all he could do was bury his head in a bottle of sweet, crimson wine. If he were to die now then all the work he’d put in would be outshined by those who had worked far less but held more natural talent than he: Though he held no plans to die in the near future.

The sounds of music drifted through his mind, gentle notes of familiar jazz bringing back memories of a life before this: One with friends that he’d thought cared dearly for him. Closing his eyes he took in the lingering smell of alcohol floating through the unending stretch of the bar: The spirituous smell of a strong vodka that likely belonged to the woman he’d been watching for such a long period of time. She’d captivated his gaze by so carelessly being able to move through a crowd as large as the one she’d pulled together with her bewitching beauty. Though the people who’d been enchanted by her seemed to have quieted in the short time he’d been resting his eyes.

Lost in a dark sea of thoughts, Chuuya had been too enamored with his own mind to realize the approach of another person. Their appearance at his table only came to light when, with one swift motion, tore his hat from his head. Shooting up his blue eyes held a threatening glare towards the woman who’d stolen his tattered old hat, her (E/C) eyes meeting his in an almost instant connection of infatuation. Sitting atop her nape of silken (H/C) hair was the article of clothing in which she’d chosen to steal from him. 

“If you keep scowling like that then your face might get stuck that way.” She let out a gentle laugh, pulling the hat from her head before using a hand to fix several strands of her untamed locks. Without a second of hesitation she sat herself down across from him, (E/C) eyes lit by the flickering candle in the center of their now shared table. His hat had found its way back atop her head and forced a shadow to cascade down upon her sharp features.

“Who the hell are you.” Chuuya’s voice rose above the gentle jazz still buzzing through the background, deep and clear as he calmly demanded an answer from the woman. His blue eyes that once sparkled with the life of the ocean were now as cold as ice, watching her every movement in hopes of finding the right moment to snatch his hat back. Though the task was simple, he’d much prefer to keep the conversation somewhat civil and not start a fight. 

“Just a lonely bar frequenter looking for someone to exchange words with.” Once again she let out a quiet chuckle, hands twirling together as she played with a diamond ring resting upon her finger. Since making her unwarranted appearance she’d been messing with her hands, but it wasn’t until now that he noticed the jewelry twinkling in the candle. “Though I guess I must come off as something far more rude after stealing your hat. My apologies.”

With one swift movement she pulled the hat off her head, holding the rounded black brims in her hand as she ran slender fingers across the snuffed edges. Not many people had enough confidence to steal from another person, especially not from a mafia executive, but she hadn’t hesitated for a single second. Perhaps it could be considered rude or even foolish to approach another person in this way but more than anything it was intriguing. A smile of true temperament spread slowly across her lips, tugging at the corners to form a look of a dolorous sight. Reaching out she offered back his most precious belonging, hand extended in a sign of peace when she’d realized just how truly strange her actions had been.

Quickly Chuuya snatched his hat back, rubbing away flecks of dirt before returning it to its usual spot atop his fiery red hair. The woman watched intently as if to not spark any incentive of harm and the short man seemed to understand as he leaned back, any anger slowly dripping away from his expression as he took a final sip from his now empty glass of fine wine. Its fruity flavor lingered on his lips; Soft and sweet as if filled with memories of delicate feet dancing through vineyards in preparations of a coming harvest. Perhaps it smelled of the same scent that it tasted, but the strong scent of vodka seemed to drip from the woman before him and made it near impossible to distinguish the smell of his wine.

Though it was clear that she had been drinking before finding her way to him, she showed no signs of insobriety. Behind her the crowd of men had begun to fade, one by one realizing the woman who’d been leading the charge of celebration was nowhere to be found. Without their loud, slurred speech the music began to drift through the air and back into his ears. The jazz had stopped and now a classic rock rumbled its way through his mind. 

“What makes you think I’ll accept your apology?” He was stern and unwavering as he threatened to form a new feud with her. She seemed so calm even as he laid the threat out for all eyes to see: So much so that she was confident enough for her gaze to finally leave him. With that crestfallen smile falling to her hands she finally stopped the irksome fidgeting of her ring. “This hat is quite important to me and I don’t take kindly to people touching it. Especially not a strange woman who I’ve never seen before.”

“You make a fair point but I have a feeling you don’t really want to be alone during a long night of drinking. What would it hurt if you talked with that strange woman until she became such a nuisance that you killed her?” The comment had come from a strange place, changing the demeanor of the entire conversation with such simple words. For a moment Chuuya’s mind turned towards his former partner: Osamu Dazai, a man obsessed with suicide that it entwined itself into his everyday life. He couldn’t deny the similarities in the way they spoke: Sharp witted with a hint of tease.

“Let’s say I don’t strangle you for touching my hat.” He leaned forward, eyeing her with suspicious vermillion eyes until she finally met his gaze. “What gives you the idea I’d want to spend my peaceful night drinking with another person when I could so easily do it by my lonesome.”

“Is that really what you want? Of course I’d understand, wallowing in your own self pity always makes for a great evening but wouldn’t it be nice to share a glass of wine with a beautiful and mysterious woman.” She reached for his glass and pulled it towards her. Much like she had with her hat, she ran a slender finger across its rim and Chuuya only continued to watch her small movements. A chip on the glass caught her skin and gently cut at her delicate (S/C) finger; A droplet of blood finding its way to the bottom of the glass. 

He took note of how she hadn’t flinched, instead watching as she flipped the cup upside down, her drop of blood running down along the side of his glass. “If you wish to drink alone then by all means tell me to go, but I’d truly enjoy it if you’d accompany me to the bar.”

Chuuya watched as she stood up, leaving his glass flipped on the table with her blood staining the clear glass a bright crimson. If it hadn’t been for another droplet of blood rolling from her fingertip and onto the black carpet, he likely could have viewed her blood as the wine that had once filled his cup. She was a moderate height in comparison to the behemoth of a woman who’d been passing out the vodka minutes ago: (H/L) (H/C) hair falling in tassels atop her head and swaying with the few steps she’d taken. It was obvious she wasn’t exactly dressed for the bar, unlike most of the women she wore a pair of patchy black flats and a white pantsuit that was more suited for a day in an office building than a night in a bar.

“Out of pure curiosity, what’s your name?” Chuuya hadn’t expected her to glance back at him. Her brilliant (E/C) dancing in the darkness as she dared to search for something more than the ruthless mafia executive. Perhaps she was wishing for someone like her: Lonesome and willing to take a gamble for a night of forgotten mistakes. Yet he couldn’t allow her to see that part of him.

“(L/N) (Y/N). Though (Y/N) is preferred.” She turned away once again, not wanting to impose herself more on his life than she already had. It was a sweet gesture to not force any questions onto what was already a tipsy man. Chuuya watched her make her way through the floor, dodging the free flying hands of the people still moving about. Eventually she had safely found a spot at the bar with no one sitting even remotely close to her.

Chuuya didn’t care much for small talk, especially when it included a person who’d had the credence to think that he was purely drinking to forget his troublesome day: Though it was partially the reason, he also quite enjoyed the taste of a nice fruity wine. A buzz tore him from his ire thoughts, his phone calling him with the notification of a message bringing the screen to life. Once again he pulled the object from his pocket and scanned over the brief words, ‘Meeting at three tomorrow. Mori wants everyone on time and please don’t show up hungover, it’s an important day.’.

His admiration for Kouyou was not something he hid and he would do whatever she wished of him, but for some reason the message had just irked something inside him. Today, well yesterday, had been yet another important day filled to the brim with banal tasks forced onto him by Mori. Had it been an order and not just a mere request from the older woman then he would’ve obliged without hesitation, but the smell of sweet alcohol called him from afar and pulled his eyes back to the bar. Still she sat alone, glass of wine in hand as another untouched glass sat to the seat to her right.

It was clearly set there for him but he could see several men throughout the bar eyeing the prize as if it were theirs to claim. There was no denying she was a beautiful woman and it was likely the men desired her more than the wine beside her; They were dogs begging for a piece of meat but he was more so a lynx relishing in the blood of its fallen prey. Returning his phone to his pocket, Chuuya left his table and the upside down glass behind to seek after the woman who’d offered a hand of help to those who desired to be drunk on this lengthy night. Any person who attempted to even near her was quickly warned away by his minacous glares.

“I didn’t think you’d actually follow me.” She attempted to hide her smirk by taking a long sip of her wine but the pride was riddling her expression. Chuuya rolled his eyes and picked up the glass, swirling its contents round in round as if the churning water held all the answers he ever wished for.

“The only reason I’m here is for the wine, nothing more.” He put the glass to his lips and took a long sip, the insipid wine running down his throat and bringing a sour look to his face. Rolling his eyes he placed the glass back down and shoved it further away from him. The girl watched him as he did so, though it was clear she had no desire to continue her own glass, took another sip. “That tastes like shit.”

“It’s a clearance bottle from the store down the street. Personally I’d prefer something a bit more… tasteful” Chuuya sat and watched as the woman jumped over the bar, her hand holding her weight as she swung herself across. It was quick and fluid motion that he hadn’t  entirely expected from someone like her: She didn’t seem weak but doing something like that was difficult for most normal people. 

The barkeep rolled his eyes but still gave her a gentle pat on the head, softly rustling her locks of hair before she tore herself from his hand. “When you disappeared I thought surely you’d have taken one of those men home.”

“As if I’d ever let those buffoons into my pants, I may be a slut but not even I’d go that low.” She retorted with an added bit of arrogance before ducking down below the counter to someplace Chuuya couldn’t see. “Is the password still the same Isaac?”

“Only your first night back and you’re already opening up one of your special finds, if this is what I”m to expect while you’re in town then I might need to stock up.” The bartender squatted down behind the counter and several quiet beeps filled the air before he came back up. Skepticism ran through Chuuya’s mind but before it could cause him to make any rash decisions, his eyes met the bartenders: Tall and lean, blue eyes brilliant as they burned in the dim light, and his long black hair pulled back to show his sharp features. He seemed to always be working behind the counter, serving drink after drink no matter what time of day it was, but Chuuya wouldn’t question it as long as he was served.

As if sensing the unease that laced itself in Chuuya’s brows, the bartender, who’s name he now knew to be Isaac, offered a small bow of his head for respect. It was commonplace for members of the mafia to come to the small bar tucked safely inside an alley and thus the bartender had become somewhat of an honorary member of the mafia. Personally Chuuya had never spoken to him but he did know that Kouyou loved his mijito’s. If she trusted this establishment enough to come here biweekly for such a simple drink then he should have no anxieties himself: Plus if things were to end in a fight he was sure that he could handle his own.

After what seemed an eternity the woman finally arose from the underside of the bar with two fresh glasses in her hand and a bottle of wine in the other. She spun the bottle by its narrowed top and Chuuya could only catch a glimpse of its moving label. It came to a slow stop and his eyes lit up, surprised by the bottle clutched in her deft hands. “A 1985 Leroy Ruchottes, expensive but fitting for a dreary night like this one.”

“Sharing your 1985 with someone you don’t even know.” Isaac huffed before he grabbed the two unfinished drinks, their bland contents going to waste as he poured them down a sink.  “You must have gone mental from staying in that barren iceland for so long.”

The woman, (Y/N), rolled her rousing (E/C) eyes and down the supplies in her hands. “Isn’t it against the policy for customers to be behind the bar, Mr.Newton? I wonder what would happen if the owner were to find out that their endearing manager had broken such a simple rule.”

“If anyone were to get into trouble it’d be you.” He huffed in annoyance before turning and making his way across the bar to serve another patron. This left (Y/N) and Chuuya alone, both a bit tipsy from their nights of drinking, but still comprehensive enough to understand how little they know of one another. They were worlds apart but somehow they’d found themselves across from one another: Not knowing why the other had found their way into the bar on this fateful night.

Chuuya watched as she poured the fine wine into a fresh glass for him. Her movements were soft enough to avoid any splashing of the wine, it was as though she’d been trained to do that very thing in an elegant manner. “If I’m splitting a two-thousand dollar wine with you, I’d like to ask a question.”

He raised an eyebrow at her words, not prepared for such a statement but fully intending on seeing where it led. “Continue.”

“What brought you to the bar tonight?”

The question was so simple yet so forlorn with his tale of a despondent day. He didn’t know what exactly to tell the women who brimmed with curiosity at his untold daily life. Once again he was reminded they were strangers, nothing more than passerby in the stream of life, she’d likely never see him again after this night so there was no point in sharing detail. Plus, of course, there were the dangers of sharing any detail of what work he did within the mafia.

“Just needed to cool down.” He picked the glass and spun the liquid round in circles, watching as the crimson tinted the glass. Skepticism laced through his vision in fear of tasting yet another crappy wine from some dollar store. “Though it didn’t go as planned with that outrageous entourage for that tall ass woman.”

(Y/N) laughed, a quiet sound resonating through her throat and filling the air between them. It was filled with the softness of honey and dripping with the warmth of a bittersweet dark chocolate: Perfect and prim. “She has that effect on people.”

“You know her?” Her statement had caught him by surprise. When his eyes had scanned across the room he’d taken note of all those throughout the building but never once had he seen the woman across the counter, so why had she appeared as soon as her friend had disappeared.

“You could say that.” Once again she gave a mysterious answer that hid any truth of what her business inside this bar was. She was generous with her questions to him, wanting to know more of who he was by offering a wine, yet she gave no information of who she was. Outside this bar he had no clue who she was. “So you needed to cool down? What could cause a man such as yourself so much stress that you want nothing more than to get drunk with a beautiful woman at your side.”

“Work is pretty shitty when no one seems to do anything correctly.” Chuuya took a sip of the wine she’d poured for him. It was perfectly chilled as it rolled through his lips and down his throat, the fruity flavor danced across his tongue. He was familiar with fine wines and this truly was one. “How about yourself? At this point you seem to know more about me than I do about you and I don’t think that’s entirely fair.”

“I guess I’m in a similar boat with the work bit. Four years away from Yokohama and my boss wanted me to drop everything to return here.” She took another sip of the wine before putting it down on the counter. Her (E/C) eyes seemed to soften and fill with a tiredness that matched her gruesome words from earlier this night. “Never thought I’d be back here after what happened.”

The last bit was not meant for his ears and he knew that well enough from the exhaustion bushed inside her tone, but he couldn’t just leave it at that. Curiosity brimmed in his head and with the haze of alcohol settling in his mind he couldn’t bear to not ask any questions. “What happened?”

She didn’t respond, eyes glazing in memories that flowed through her thoughts like water. A ring blasted above the music in the room and that was what finally tore her from her thoughts. (Y/N) was quick to answer her phone, pulling it from her white pocket and pressing it to her ear. “Yes sir, I’ll be there within the hour… No there isn’t a need for a car… Thank you, sir.”

“Your boss?” Chuuya took a large sip of the wine as he watched her pocket her phone and gulp the final ounces of her drink. “I guess this is where we part ways.”

“It would seem that way. Feel free to finish the bottle and if Isaac tries to charge you then just remind him that it was a personal bottle.” (Y/N) pushed the bottle further towards him and Chuuya was happy to take it off her hands and pull it beside his glass. A small smile rested on her lips from the sight of her precious wine not being wasted. She gave a small whistle then waved at the bartender, Isaac returning the gesture with a small flick of his hand. “It was nice talking with you…”

Her voice trailed off as she searched for a name she hadn’t been given. “Chuuya Nakahara.”

“Chuuya.” She tested the name on her tongue, its syllables weighed a hefty amount as they floated through the air. With that final call to him she turned and made her way to the door and left him alone sitting on a stool. He could’ve let her leave but it felt wrong to let this end on such a rancorous note.

“You ever steal my hat again I swear I’ll kill you!”

“Promise?”

~ x ~

The table was filled with a quiet chatter as everyone awaited the arrival of Ougai Mori who seemed to be running late this early morning. A meeting this large was uncommon to say the least, Chuuya couldn’t remember the last time that many people had been seated around this large table. Kouyou and he sat at the forefront on either side of where Mori should have been sitting, lining the sides were numerous ranked members within the mafia. What had originally meant to be a meeting among only him, Mori and Kouyou had somehow turned into this situation without his knowing.

Chuuya leaned back in his seat, resting his hat over his face to block the dim light fluttering throughout the room, but yet it did nothing to soothe the knot in his head. After finishing the bottle of wine given to him by the mysterious woman he’d blacked out and the hangover became inevitable. Kouyou had been sure to taunt him from the moment he’d slouched in the chair across from her, but she was kind enough to provide him with a glass of water.

“I hear you had a drinking partner last night, are the rumors true?” Her voice was chilled with the usual icy tone but he knew she meant no harm in her words. It was a procedure for them to keep up a distant attitude when people were around: Being executives had few flaws and having to be uptight during work hours was one of them.

“Partner is a strong word. She disappeared after her first drink and left me alone to finish a bottle.” Chuuya didn’t bother to move his hat off his head, using it as a cover to the prodding light. The whole room was filled with harsh utterance that hurt his all too sensitive hungover self. “Though I must admit the wine tasted great.”

There was no chance for Kouyou to respond as the doors to the room burst open, wide and unexpected to allow a bright light to flood the dim room. Everyone in the table straightened as their quiet chatters fell to a silent void. Chuuya pushed his hat back and leaned forward, hunched in hopes to not lose the little bites of food he’d taken before leaving his apartment this morning. Mori walked with Elise close on his heels, he stayed silent as the short blonde girl tugged harshly at his sleeve. Her pleas to leave the meeting were a screech in Chuuya’s sore head but he had no ability to fight back. 

“Good morning.” His words held a bit of joy laced underneath their serious air. “I’d like to thank you all for finding the time to attend this meeting.”

“Did we have a choice whether to attend?” Kouyou covered her mouth with a fan, teasing Mori’s kindness with the jab at his gracious thanks to the people sitting solemnly around the table.

“You always have a choice, but there are no promises saying you wouldn’t have been harmed if you chose not to attend.” It took a minute for him to walk the length of the table but finally his intransigent steps came to a halt and he sat at the head of the table. Like usual his hands adorned deep white gloves, but while they had usually been hidden beneath the table messing with one of his scalpels, they sat atop the gleaming wood as his fingers fidgeted with one another. The small motion tore at most people throughout the table as they realized just how serious this situation must be. “Before we start I’d like to make a few things clear. First off: The woman you are about to meet is dangerous and I am not able to guarantee absolute safety for any of you.”

Curiosity spiked within the room, everyone listening intently as for the first time in years Mori addressed all his high ranking agents in one message. The warning of an incoming dangerous person was intriguing and though a bit worrying they could not fight against his order. “Secondly: Information shared within this room is to remain within this room, if it discovers you leaked any bit of intelligence you will be executed.”

That much was obvious to even those who didn’t regularly attend meetings like this: Information within the Port Mafia was to be kept within no matter the cost. Dropping any bit of intel would result in a severe punishment if not your death. “My final word of warning is only to be heeded for Chuuya. Do not try and ask to change this situation, my word is final.”

“What are you saying boss? It seems like you‘re already expecting me to hate what’s about to happen.”

His laugh was chilling, cold and desolate in the curiosity implicit room. The smile that followed was fanatical as Mori faced down his executive. Though Chuuya would follow Mori to death and further he couldn’t help but question what decision he’d made this time. Kouyou also seemed to be wary of what their leader had gotten them into. Mori was a well thought man but from what he’d said in these few minutes it seemed as though he’d lost his intelligence to a crazed insanity. If not even he could guarantee the safety of those in this room then whoever this woman was had to be someone of high strength.

“I’ll keep this short: As of late, there��s been a drug circulating throughout the underground. One that has the capability of permanently robbing a person of their ability. I’ve brought in an old agent who I’m certain can help us uncover who’s behind this creation of this horrid drug.” Mori’s hands clasped together and sent a sharp clasp flooding through the air, it scraped through every crevice in the room and dared anyone to try and ask a question. He was yet to finish speaking but many people in the room had become restless upon hearing what he’d said so far. “She will be your new partner for the time.”

“With all due respect, I don’t need a partner; I’m perfectly capable of handling this on my own.” Chuuya’s words were held with an air of tempted duplicity: After what had happened with Dazai he wasn’t entirely certain he wanted to be chained to yet another person as a partner.

“You say as much but I’m afraid even your ability isn’t a match for the challenges we are about to face. The agent I’ve called back used to be an executive much like you, ambitious and astute without a will to allow her to back down.” Mori stood from his seat and Elise was quick to push it in, the young blonde seeming to straighten her attitude as Mori’s air changed in a matter of moments. This was serious. “It would do you well to remember that she is of equal rank with both you and Kouyou. She is far stronger than she seems and I assure you that this partnership you will endure will be prosperous.”

His steps held an air of solitude, one after another as he made his way down the opposite side of the table to the large door at the front of the room. Around the table everyone watched his movements, people craned their heads in hopes of meeting his twisted stares to understand what exactly he was speaking of. As of now only two people were meant to talk: Mori and Chuuya. Kouyou understood this and kept her questions closed within herself.

“You said she used to be an executive, what happened? Am I working with someone who’s going to stab me in the back the moment she sees a better opportunity?” If Chuuya had to choose a single standard for a partner it would be that of trustworthiness. He was curious if this woman could live up to what should be such a simple standard, but most seemed to find it difficult to comprehend. 

“She received a promotion of sorts.”

“As for the betrayal bit, I could have easily done so last night. Yet I chose to kindly share some of my time with you.” A voice rang through the room, it was softer than it had been hours before. Chuuya was shocked when the woman who’d offered him a bottle of wine stepped through the door of the meeting room: Her white pantsuit had been traded for a black jumpsuit that covered every inch of her form, neck to feet, not leaving any crevice of skin to be seen. She was more rigid than she’d been, her shoulders tense as if relaying a sense of power, but her (E/C) eyed stare was far more gentle. “Did you enjoy your wine, Chuuya?”

“You- you?!” His hands harshly met the long table as he shot from his chair, utter disbelief coursing throughout his body as he watched her stand there. She seemed innocent, holding papers against her chest as Mori placed a hand on her shoulder and guided her to the open seat at the opposite end of the table. “What the hell! You didn’t think to tell me you were a part of the mafia.”

“As of last night I had no information on you or your relations within the mafia.” Mori leaned and whispered several words into her ear, soft spoken so as to not allow anyone else to hear. She responded with a simple nod and a smile twisted its way onto his boss's lips. “When Ogai requested me to return here I was told of our partnership. I’m happy to be working with you, Chuuya Nakahara. May our relations be affluent for both parties.”

This was a different woman than who he’d spoken with at the bar during the evening: She was sharp and witted without a wavering will, just by her earlier stance you could see that she knew she was well-acquitted with strength. It was as though the fun loving lady who’d stolen his hat had merely been a jest. Mori returned to her side and set a plate before her, beside the papers she'd brought with her, its content was a simple slice of cake. Her eyes which held a great deal of softness widened and a smile replaced the confident, thin-lipped look she had.

“You spoil me Ogai! A chocolate cake from Ms.Young’s bakery, how deliciously expensive a treat.” She took a bite of it, eyes twinkling with satisfaction as the treat nearly melted upon contact with her tongue. “Now that I’ve exchanged my pleasantries, I believe it’s time for us to get to business.”