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curiousconch · 4 years

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Lions on the Prowl

Chapter 7 of Ricochet (An Open Heart AU)

Catch up here: Series Masterlist

Chapter Synopsis: Bryce and Rafael go on the hunt to unravel the sinister truth, hoping that what is revealed leads to Heather.

Pairing: Rafael Aveiro x MC (Dr. Heather Song) | Bryce Lahela x MC (Dr. Heather Song)

Words: 1.8k+ | Genre: Crime, Suspense/Thriller, Romance

Rating/Warnings: Mature (16+) / language, violence

Author's Notes: As promised, here's chapter 7. It has minor references to canon, but I did some tweaks to fit the overall storyline. Thank you so much for taking time to read this series. Please let me know if you want me to include/remove you in the tags list. Also, disclaimer: Majority of the characters are owned by Pixelberry, except the main character Heather Song and an OC Jordan Anderson.

Bryce slipped his phone into the pocket of his suit after his call with Rafael. He got into his car and punched the coordinates of his destination, tapping his fingers on the steering wheel as he waited for the GPS to load. Once he heard the first set of directions, he turned on the ignition and drove off. As the miles went by, he began to map out his strategy to interrogate the person who started it all - Travis Perry.

After half an hour, he was let into the maximum security facility. He went through the strict visitor SOP before he was led into a small room, devoid of anything cheerful. He tried his best to shake off the inherent thoughts he had about Heather's current situation, focusing instead at the matter at hand. Several minutes passed before he heard a click and the door opened, revealing a dank and skinny figure.

When Travis realized who was visiting, he rolled his eyes.

Bryce watched as he sat down while his handcuffs was hooked at a protruding hole in the center of the table. He waited for the guard to step outside before he leaned forward, switching into full-on lawyer mode.

"You better tell me what you know now, Perry."

Travis smirked, looking ominous.

"Desperate much, are you, ADA Lahela?" he leaned back, slouching. "Why come to me so early on in the game?"

The answer was easy, he was desperate. Every passing minute that Heather was missing reduces the possibility of finding her alive. He knew that much. And Bryce was willing to risk anything to see her breathing again. Even endangering his career or his dignity.

"You know very well why I'm here, Travis," his fingers ran up his blue tie, loosening it a little, hoping that he was playing his cards right. Bryce knew Perry's confidence came from the knowledge that he had nothing left to lose. He can't put him at fault though, his sentence were pretty much signed, sealed and delivered. However, the ADA didn't expect him to give up anything without a fight. He was the criminal who attempted to kill a senator, after all. So he came prepared.

Bryce shook his head, sneering back, a finger pressed lightly on his chin.

"Travis, Travis, Travis..." he stood up, circling around the prisoner like a lion on a prowl. "Aren't you forgetting something? I'm just a man who can offer you something that is going to be very hard to turn down," he stopped once he stood directly behind his prey. He then crouched down and leaned forward, his smug face inches away from Perry's. "So, you interested?"

Perry hissed, a look of disdain overcoming his previously confident composure.

"I thought so," Bryce smiled, satisfied. His work wasn't done yet though. He put the tips of his fingers together, pulling back so he can continue to prance around. It was the signature Lahela move.

This was a signal to anyone beyond enemy lines that Prosecutor Bryce got you in his grasp. That's why they call him magic hands.

"You better start talking then. Clock is ticking," he returned to stand opposite him, the palm of his hands pressed flatly on the metal table. "Well, that is, if you choose to cooperate."

The perp he worked laboriously to convict fell into a contemplative silence. Bryce watched intently, as Travis closed his eyes and took deep breaths before sitting back up, determined not to say a thing.

"I take it you don't want to talk then?" Bryce pursed his lips in an attempt of mockery. "Why? Suddenly grown a conscience after being caged for a few months? Wanna make Jonathan proud?"

At the mention of his younger brother, Perry abruptly stood up causing his chains to rattle against metal. He lost control, as he screamed to the young ADA's face.

When he lost his steam, Travis eventually backed down looking pleased with himself as he found Bryce's stunned expression.

"You will never catch him! Jordan is more cunning and more capable than any of you pieces of shit!" Travis roared, startling Bryce. "You're all just as worthless as that fucking senator! You think you're so different? Well guess what, you're all the same!"

For a few long moments, Bryce did seem like someone who just lost a battle. The convict sat down and pressed the button under the table to call in his escort. But before anyone came back in to get him, the cunning golden boy mimicked his movements and stared back at him.

"Well, thank you, for your kind assistance," Bryce said quietly as a guard entered and uncuffed Perry. Travis looked back at him, puzzled. He was ordered to stand up, and when he was about to leave the room, Bryce quirked a brow, his lips twisting into a smirk of a cheshire cat.

The mouse just fell into the trap.

"Jordan, huh? I wonder who that is."

Perry's face drained of all color. Bryce chortled in reply before he continued his celebratory address.

"And since you didn't agree on anything, I'll consider it an early holiday gift that doesn't need to be repaid," the lawyer brushed back his hair and stood up, straightening his dark grey suit. With a shrill scream, the heavy metal door closed upon Travis Perry's face, leaving Bryce alone in the room. He waited for a few moments, fixing his tie, then walked back out to the correctional's office.

One more thing before we're done here.

He requested for Perry's files, browsing through his phone records and visitor logs for the past 6 months. When he turned to the third page, he found exactly what he was looking for. Bingo. He fist bumped the air, then took pictures of the pages where he found the matching name. As he set out to collect the rest of his belongings, he quick dialed Rafael and reported his findings.

"We have a name," he walked back to his parked car and got in, turning the ignition on. "It's Jordan Anderson. Look for any records related to him and how he connects with Travis Perry, I'm coming over." he backed up the car out to the road and drove to town.

Hold on, Heather. We're coming for you.

***

Rafael reopened Perry's files for the tenth time since tonight after he ended his call with Bryce. It was a breakthrough, after hours of not being able find anything of value since the investigation started. The name didn't ring any bells, but he was confident he's going to find something. He had to.

Before he closed the file another time, he read a single phrase in the page about Travis Perry's family background. There it was listed:

Parents: Theodore Perry (Deceased), Jenny Perry (deceased)

Siblings: Jonathan Perry (deceased), foster brother (presumed alive, identity unknown)

He highlighted the two words - foster brother.

Is this him? Did we find the kidnapper?

He beckoned the agent beside him who was poring over Farrugia's phone logs. "Marshall, can you find out if Travis' parents took in kids for foster care?"

The agent nodded and opened the application for the National Foster Care directory. Raf watched as he browsed per county, directing him to a site containing Boston's list. Time seemed to slow down for Rafael as Agent Marshall typed in the parents names into the search criteria. He pressed enter, and together they watched the loading icon, as the app attempted to pull up any matching records.

After an excruciatingly long 10 minutes, the application displayed a single name: Jordan Anderson.

This was the solid lead they needed.

He directed half of his team to find anything they could regarding Jordan Anderson. One by one, they pooled in the data and eventually created the most accurate biography of the man who just became Boston's most wanted.

Raf asked for his image to be emailed to the IT guys to run facial recognition on surveillance footage around Edenbrook and Bryce's condo, marking it as urgent. He approached the whiteboard, and began to write a summary of what they knew so far:

JORDAN PETER ANDERSON

* Foster brother of Travis Perry

* Aged 29

* Last known address: Everett, MA

* Last known occupation: Maintenance Crew, Stintson and Co. Cleaning Agency

* Criminal records: Juvenile detention for Shoplifting, illegal drug use, stalking, trespassing

He also listed down the number of restraining orders issued against him, painting a picture of a long history of offenses and a troubled life. He read the accompanying material that they were able to dig in the last half hour and built a psychological profile of the suspect.

Several minutes after, ADA Lahela walked into the room. Bryce nodded to him, before perusing the bulleted points on the board. "This is good work," the prosecutor said.

Raf handed him some of the printouts, allowing him to make his own analysis. The special agent began to discuss his.

"He appears to have a close bond with his foster family, seeing that he didn't move out of Massachusetts. As to how much contact he had with Travis, we're uncertain yet," Rafael said.

With that, Bryce pulled up the pictures he took at the correctional facility. He showed it to Raf.

"There were several rows of the same number in the call logs starting a few months back, starting on the day Perry was transferred," Bryce pointed at the records in contention before proceeding. "So I trailed a pattern. I tried looking at the days when that same number didn't appear in the call logs and looked at the visitor records instead. The name Jordan Anderson came up every single time."

"We received a tip!" an agent stood up and approached the two conferring men, interrupting their discussion. "Apparently, Dr. Song called for a car to bring her to the airport this morning. The driver waited in front of ADA Lahela's complex and was about to leave when he saw a suspicious guy in an overall leaving a side entrance. He was carrying a black luggage bag and a woman who the driver thought as drunk. The woman matched her description."

They shared a look, prompting them into action. Rafael pulled up his phone to dial the surveillance room, but before he could, it pinged for an incoming email. It was from an anonymous sender. It contained a video file attachment. He tapped the play button.

It was a dash cam footage. The first few seconds were dim, but it wasn't long before a black car pulled up into the empty road. The vehicle stopped, a male figure emerged from the driver's seat. He opened the backseat door and there was Heather, limp and unconscious, being dragged by a man who shared the same face as the picture in the printouts. Both men's breathing hitched.

The video finished playing when they heard another ping. It was another email from the same sender. This time, it only contained a single line:

24th Avenue, Panacea Pharmaceutical Boston Tower.

"Panacea? Why does that sound familiar?" Bryce questioned, frowning.

"Panacea, as in the Panacea Labs?" the agent inputted, looking at each of them. "Panacea Labs partnered last year with Edenbrook and Mass Kenmore, prompting the construction of a new office downtown. But the company was shut down due to ethical and regulatory violations, halting the project. It was never finished."

"Can someone put up a recent image from 24th Avenue?"

Another agent walked up to them, showing his laptop screen.

There in the image was a faint sign, Construction Ongoing. Underneath it was the word Panacea.

Rafael raised his phone beside the computer, comparing the still frame from the video.

There it was, at the upper left side, the same sign and the same word.

At that moment, both men knew they were only scratching the surface. But they can deal with that later.

Right now, they knew where Heather was. And it's about damn time they get her back.

Taglist @ramsey-lahela @eleanorbloom @choicesficwriterscreations for Fics of the Week

#open heart #open heart fanfiction #rafael aveiro #bryce lahela #choices fanfiction #play choices #choices #open heart 2 #open heart au #choices fic writers creations #fics of the week

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purple-scarf-mistress · 4 years

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Dark Truths

A Criminal Minds FanFic.

Chapter 4

Summary: Jamie has been missing for a year, subjected to horrible torture. Her friends/team/family aka the BAU team scramble to find her. Once she is found it will be a challenge to help her get back to her normal life.

Master List (Multi Chapter)

Pairing: ReidxJamie (OC)

Warnings: This story is explicit and deals with s*xual assault and psychological torture. I will add notes for where to skip and pick back up to for those who want to read this but avoid the warning content as best I can.

When JJ came back she had her a grey t-shirt and a sweatshirt and purple PJ shorts. She walked back into the room where Reid and Jamie were smiling seeing them both. Jamie jumped when the door opened squeezing Reid's hand. JJ smiled seeing they made her casts a swirl of light and dark purple "I told them you liked purple… I hope that's okay." She said softly walking over "I also got you these. If you want to change"

Jamie looked at Reid almost as if asking for permission to accept them. Sighing he nodded knowing this was something they would have to work on. "Do you want me to leave and JJ can help you change?"

Jamie looked at him nervous not wanting him gone. JJ was quick to notice, "Why don't you stay and just face the other way and we can pull the curtain closed. That way you are here but I can help her, sound good?"

Jamie nodded quickly. Spencer gave her hand a quick squeeze before getting up, closing the curtain, and facing away from the girls.

JJ smiled at the small girl reassuringly. She slowly helped her into the shirt and then into the PJ shorts. It took everything she had to cry, not to flinch, or react at all to the marks that marred Jamie's pale skin. "Alight, all dressed. Now we are working on getting you out of here so just sit tight and then we can head to the jet and get you home. Sound good?"

Jamie didn't know how to respond. It sounded great but too good to be true. She looked down at the clothes' eyes watering as she started to let herself feel safe, she hadn't realized she had started sobbing. Quickly Spencer was sitting next to her on the bed, "may I hold you?" he asked nervous that just doing it would feel like a violation.

Nodding Jamie leaned into his chest, she could feel his arms wrap around her. The tears wouldn’t stop as she continued to sob into his chest. She didn't know why she was crying at this point but it felt good to her. It felt good to cry, to be held by someone who wasn't going to hurt her.

JJ watched the two for a moment before leaving and going to the team, tears in her own eyes. "S-she's dressed… let's get her home soon I think that is going to do her some good."

Hotch nodded in agreement going to the doctor for the release papers. He had talked with the doctor for an hour about letting Jamie out of the hospital. At first, the doctor was adamant but Hotch had promised that he would make sure he followed all the instructions to take care of her and at the first sign on trouble she would go to the hospital close to their homes.

"Here are all of her medications. And my recommendations for treatment which include therapy." The doctor said taking the now signed papers from Hotch.

"We will take good care of her, I can assure you of that." Said Hotch before going to Rossi. "I am going to head to the jet. I think for the time being its best if I give her some space. I'll sit towards the back and you guys can get her there and keep her in the front. I don't want to scare her anymore."

Rossi nodded, "it's going to get better, we will have her there soon." He watched as Hotch walked off going to the car that Emily was still in. "Morgan lets get the car, JJ wait for them?"

JJ nodded watching them walk out the door.

Reid smiled when the nurse came in with a wheelchair to say she could leave. In his arms was Jamie still crying but a little calmer, "hear that? We can get you home now? Isn't that great?" he was hoping she would smile at the news.

Jamie was numb. Home. She looked at Reid as the tears stopped but didn't give any reaction. She could hear him sigh as he helped her into the chair and started pushing her out of the room. She tried to pull her legs up to her chest but her cast was too heavy for her to lift, instead, she curled around her stomach closing her eyes. The lights were bright to her and the noises too loud, and the people, too many people around her. She felt like they could see everything that had happened to her just by looking.

"Shhhh it’s okay we are almost to the car," whispered Reid to her while he exchanged worried looks with JJ. "I am going to pick you up okay? Do you want me to hold you while we drive?"

Jamie started sobbing again but she nodded through the tears, the only thing she could think of that she wanted right now was him, when he wrapped his arms around her and pulled her to his chest she could hardly keep her self from burying her face into his chest. She heard the car door shut, jumping at the sound, slipping back into a memory she wished was just a nightmare…

Jamie walked from the BAU office out to the car with a large stack of files. In her head she was thinking about Spencer Reid, how every night he would walk her to the car and talk, sometimes they would get dinner or coffee, other times they would just say goodnight and go separate ways. But every time he walked her to her car she had wished that he would kiss her. She bit her lip thinking about his lips touching hers, about his arms pulling her closer at the waist, it was all she wanted. She opened her car door to set the files in, she had texted him that she would here waiting for him and was surprised when she heard footsteps coming to her car so soon. As she stood from her car she saw it wasn't Reid she tried to scream but the man grabbed her hair and slammed her head into the side of her car. Seeing blood across it before dragging her semi-unconscious body into his truck, "Drive!" the man yelled as he slammed the door shut.

"Jamie? Jamie… shh, it's okay you are safe okay… see look around JJ is here and so am I, Morgan and Rossi are taking us to the BAU jet… and we're taking you home okay?" He looked up catching Morgan glancing back from the rearview mirror. They all noticed Jamie go stiff and her breathing pick up when JJ shut the door as they drove off. They didn't know what she was seeing anymore but by looking at her glazed over eyes they knew it wasn't good. Slowly she came out of the memory laying her head back on Reid's chest

Hotch watched from the window in the back of the jet as the rest of his team pulled up. He had sat in a chair that would be the most out of view for Jamie when they brought her in the jet. His heart felt like a stone in his chest knowing he couldn’t comfort or hold his daughter without causing her more pain.

He looked down at the paperwork on the table. He didn’t want to look at the medical report any longer but it needed to get consolidated into a report. For a little over a year, his smart, beautiful, little girl had been drugged, tortured, and raped. The biggest clue they had in finding her was the redacted information in her file that he had all along. How could he not have connected that sooner?

Hotch shook his head and watched intently as the team filed in. JJ and Emily came on first and quickly started getting out blankets, water, and snacks so Jamie could have them if she wanted. Rossi came in next, stopping to watch Reid behind him as he carried her up the jet stairs, Morgan stayed behind him in case he lost his balance not wanting either of them to get hurt.

Jamie hadn’t moved a muscle since she had the flashback in the car. Her eyes darted quickly to look at something then back down to a fixed spot on the floor.

Don’t let them see you look around. You’re not allowed to do anything without permission, and even then they’re bound to hate you and punish you. Stupid girl. Jamie was lost in her own mind. She didn’t notice that Spencer had sat down with her on the jet couch and was asking if she was comfortable. She didn’t notice the blanket JJ draped over her after asking several times if it was okay without an answer. She couldn’t see the shared glances between them and the hushed whispers of her friends worrying about her.

Why would they be here to save you? You’re not even worth saving. You have been used in every way convincible. You are broken. Disgusting. Worthless. Every one of your friends was better off with you gone.

Tears fell down Jamies face silently. Reid gently wiped them from her cheeks with such a soft gesture she could have imagined it. Even if all of what her mind was telling her. This seemed nice.

For now.

She felt safe.

For now.

She could at least sleep. Before she knew it she was out cold.

Reid watched her sleep in his arms. Everyone watched her sleep.

Rossi finally broke the silence, keeping his voice low so as not to wake the poor girl, “We need a plan. Where is she going to go when we land? Who is going to coordinate with NYPD? If this is connected with her parents, we need to understand why they came after her.”

“I’ll coordinate with NYPD” Morgan stated flatly.

“Jamie could stay with me?” Offered JJ

“No. Jamie is staying with me,” Reid said with more affirmation in his voice than they had ever heard from him before. “I was able to earn her trust when we got in...there. I am her best friend. I can keep her safe, I won’t let her out of my sight and if she shows any signs of needed medical care I will take her to a hospital. But she stays with me.”

Rossi nodded, “Anyone want to argue with Dr. Reid on that one? No? Okay. I want PD stationed outside your apartment day and night. Someone else should be there too in case Reid needs help, we can take shifts. Hotch - You need to bring us all up to speed on the McConnell case.”

Hotch nodded, taking a look at Jamie, then focusing his mind on the case from 22 years ago.

“Mary and Deckland were former members of the Irish Mob, actually Mary was formerly married to John Gilligan. With the help of Interpol, we were able to identify Deckland McConnell’s true name Deckland O’Conner, John Gilligan’s right hand.”

“Are you talking about the John Gilligan? The drug kingpin?” Prentis asked. She had been undercover working to over through the Irish Mob what seemed like a lifetime ago but never made it that close.

“Yes. Mary and Deckland must have fallen in love and wanted out. A pregnant Marry and her new lover boarded a plane in Belfast late one night using their new alias’ and came to the states. They settled in LA, and on March 19th, 1992 Jamie McConnell was born,” Hotch paused taking a breath. “They lived under their new alias and didn’t seem to have any problems. They lived a normal life, Mary a teacher and Deckland worked in a bar, they lived within their means. Well actually they loved well below their means, not only did they run off together but they stole a large amount of money Gilligan and put it in their daughter’s name.”

“We assume Gilligan found them. We never found out how. They broke inside the house one day, Jamie hid in a closet that had a false back and supplies in it and a small hole she could peer through. They were prepared for this if only to keep Jamie safe. She saw them beat and murder her parents and never left the closet until we arrived. After connecting the dots, Gilligan was not only after his money but his daughter we needed to protect her. We changed her name to Daniels, stuck her in foster care, and relocated her to Virginia so we could keep an eye on her. We had to move her several times, I had come to visit her every week since and when she was 9 I finally brought her home to stay with Hayley and me. The case was taken over by Interpol and the CIA, I never heard anything on it again.”

Reid watched the girl in his arms sleep. She had been through so much and never talked about it ever. She looked fragile, she felt fragile, but he knew someone who had been through that and still came out smiling was much stronger than anyone could ever see.

“So, she is Gilligan’s long lost child, and does she still have his money?” Rossi asked

Hotch nodded.

“We have the motive now. We just need to catch these men” JJ said as the plane began landing.

~Can also be read on AO3 and Fanfic by anonymouslymine ~

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risingmoonyue · 5 years

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Batman/P5 Crossover

-Sometime before Akechi but after Futaba or Haru

-Damian is sent to Tokyo to check it out for whatever reason (maybe they had a fight, or he’s going stir crazy, or he’s just the only one they can send at the time and didn't bother with all that "you're not old enough" business)

-Dami is younger than Futaba by a year or three or four

-He is baby

-He is transferred to Shujin as a child prodigy where he also immediately joins the "outcast" community because of his attitude and intelligence

-Talia goes too, manages to cut off all his communications with the Batfam, and is planning to take him home in a month whether he likes it or not

-For whatever reason, Batfam doesn't realize this??? (Like, either she's faking reports or they're too busy (think fight or chaos in Gotham scenario maybe???))

-Anyways, obviously Dami doesn't want this

-Somehow the Phantom Thieves hear about the situation

-Maybe he was assigned to shadow Makoto for a while, and they managed to overhear a phone conversation either to Talia or Dami trying to get in touch with the Batfam and nothing really working

-And eventually they outright see him fighting with his mother with him at some point (either in person or over a phone call) mentioning that she already disowned him, he's happy with his Father's family, and that he will head her family business over his dead body—and oh would you look at that, you already managed that, care to try again Mother?

-The PT's are understandably alarmed

-And learn her name from Damian (from Makoto maybe or someone else he bonded a little with) (MORGANA) (THEY GAVE HIM MONA FOR A DAY AND NOW THEY KNOW EVERYTHING FROM HIS MANY PETS TO HIS LEAST TO MOST FAVORITE SIBLINGS STARTING FROM TIM TO DICK TO HIS FAVORITE FOODS TO EVERYONE IN HIS FAMILY’S NAMES TO HOW STUPID HE FINDS EVERYONE AND WHY THEY'RE STUPID TO HIS FAVORITE MUSIC TO WHY ANIMALS ARE SUPERIOR TO HUMANS AND MONA’S LIKE OMG TMI BUT LOVED IT THERE BECAUSE HE WAS PAMPERED LIKE NO TOMORROW GOT ONLY THE BEST FOOD AND THE BEST BEDS AND TOYS THAT HE GOT TO TAKE WITH HIM BACK TO LEBLANC AND NOW AKIRA AND SOJIRO ARE LIKE DUDE WHY AND MONA’S LIKE IM KEEPING HIM THIS HUMAN IS GOOD SORRY AKIRA YOU’RE DEMOTED)

-The palace is basically a fortress full of assasin ninjas and clones

-Dunno what her keywords are tho

-Or her what her palace actually is

-Help?????????

-Cognitive Bruce, Ra's, Damian, Dami clones, and Jason (maybe rest of batfam??? Idk)

-Long story short, the traps are so assassin-y that they need someone who knows the actual Talia because egads, this is the closest they have all come to actually dying

-And they didn't really want to do it and were just gonna power through

-But Dami manages to find out and get in and of course uses his background to help out whether they like it or not

(-he's slightly off put by Joker's name, but then decides to just solely call Gotham!Joker "The Clown")

-At some point they are captured by the Shadow Talia who is decked out in super fancy traditional Arab clothing and probably every conceivable hidden weapon known to man

-Talia says Damian won't and can't ever change from who he "is meant to be", referring to him as her Alexander and basically brutally addresses all of his insecurities concerning the batfam and people and society in general

-And all this is kinda killing him cause he still loves Talia despite the fact that she killed him and had a violent citywide custody battle with Batman but he also loves the batfam too even if he would absolutely never admit it (except to maybe Grayson)

-Joker does his emotional kick-start thing and/or Dami is like Makoto and just gets so mad he triggers it himself, but either way, lo and behold, Damian is now a persona user, usurping Futaba's place as the baby of the team

-The outfit is kinda inspired by his future adult league outfit with the top and bottom and gold jewelry, but has a raggedy cloak with dull gold edges, a Robin mask and gauntlets, and his main weapons are batarang-sword hybrids

---acknowledging his past and moving on with his present

-Persona: Aladdin, Tsun Zu, Ali Baba, somone else???? Need ideas plz help

-Probably the fastest member of the group

-His small body makes his hits not as strong, but hoo boy can that kid move around

-Hits a lot and dodges most

-Most of his Persona abilities are physical and have high crit and/or are status affects

-Downside is he has not a lot of SP (compared to the rest of the group)

-And he has pretty good HP

-Those good ol' “superior genetics” have to be good for something after all

-Anyways they escape to find the treasure another day

-And Dami is all smug because HA you definitely can't stop me now

-And the PTs are just resigned to keeping an eye on the extremely competent snotty assassin/vigilante child

-They do like him though so it's not too bad (comes with learning all his darkest secrets via his mother and thought processes that tends to accompany watching someone at their lowest get a persona)

(-They do manage to temper him a bit and help him adjust better to actual society too that's nice)

-As such, they also know about Batman and Robin and his whoooole family. Both sides.

-Damian decided not to tell batfam because he does agree with the whole "most adults suck" mentality that the Phantom Thieves have; despite his deep, deep respect for his father and mother and Grayson, they all do kinda suck

-And he’s rather not get pulled out as he surely would if he told them

(-On a side note, he likes Sojiro

-The man gives him coffee, curry, and leaves him mostly to his own devices

-Instant win)

-He is dubbed "Mockingbird" apon return to the metaverse because of his freaky talented vocal skills in mimicking anyone and everyone's voice

-Eventually, they beat Talia

-She doesn't publicly confess to all her sins unlike everyone else

-PTs don't realize it worked until Damian came into school with a genuine smile on his face, and more relaxed than he'd been since he got there

-PTs are confused until Damian's like, this works out because hey, don't want to have several people assassinated and draw the entire freaking league to Tokyo

(-Which was probably why Talia didn't)

-They agree

-But she does break down to tears in Dami's arms and promise to ACTUALLY TALK CIVILLY with Bruce to try and make up for everything and try to fix up the league

-He stays for the rest of p5

-But steers all his reports very much away from the Phantom Thieves

-If anything, he downplays absolutely everything, and makes it seem like it's nothing super big but he's gonna stay a while to keep and eye out because y'alls are busy and I like it here and I haven't gotten expelled so there

-The PTs like to add funny stuff on there just to see if they’ll notice

-Like, Akira likes to have Dami describe his day in excruciating detail. Like, recounting the entirety of his nine or so months to Sae during police interrogation, excruciating

-Mona is pushing for the shiny stuff

-Yusuke just likes to put in bursts of randomness (Dami once mentioned that an acquaintance made another acquaintance T-pose in a church for art lol)

-Ann loves to rant about food

-Haru is always insisting on about feelings

-Ryuji likes to complain about everything and puts in ridiculous requests

-Futaba is just putting in every gen-z thing ever

-Makoto is actually responsible and tries to get him to talk about his progress in school and his social life

-And Akechi is absolutely nowhere near any of this and doesn’t know it exists

-When they have the Tokyo/Japan-wide calling card, Batfam sees it too because let's face it, that's totally the sorta thing that they would keep an eye out for even if he didn't look at the news in the entirety of the time Dami was in Tokyo

-And they send a message to Damian (the first actual communication they've had since before Talia) saying "WHAT THE HECK IS GOING ON OVER THERE????"

-And with the entirety of the Phantom Thieves looking over his shoulder, Damian's just like "Chill dudes, everything's fiiiiiiiiiine"

-And they're like "UH WHAT PART OF THIS IS FINE????" because they've dug around a bit and found every news report, and oh hey, this isn't anywhere near as calm as Damian described and he’s being super OOC and what’s going on?!?!?!?!?!

-And Damian, being egged on by the most of the PTs, just sends a winky face

-Just

-😉

-And he's smug, because it's still chaos over there so they can't actually come get him and try to pull him out because he's being super ooc

-Which means he's free to do what he wants/needs in the meantime

-Cue the end of the game

-And Dami is going with them on their summer road trip and cackling because the batfam is scrambling to find him in Tokyo but lol nope he's in a van the Japanese government tried and fail to follow

-And he found all the trackers like, a year ago

-Every

-Single

-One

-They eventually track him down to Akira's house where they're calmly eating dinner (and they've been expecting this for the past week so Mona was keeping watch just so they could pull this off) and talking about how uneventful the school year was

-Cue mass confusion in the batfam

-As the PTs enjoy just confusing them so much

-By talking to Mona

-Talking normal then crazy then normal again

-And just generally being their normal selves lol

-They explain absolutely nothing beyond gushing about how much progress socially and academically he’s made (gotta embarrass the baby of the group somehow) and making sure that if Dami absolutely has to go home that he's able to stay in touch

(-Later, Damian forms his own hero persona outside of Batman and Robin)

(-He names it Mockingbird)

(-Batfam proceeds to have a brain aneurysm while the PTs dab their happy proud tears out of their eyes on their regularly scheduled tea time at the Wayne Manor)

(-Damian sends a private plane every week or two lol)

(Bonus: ARTTTTTTT)

(Psst if you guys have ideas for art, outfits, interactions or scenarios, let me know)

#my writing #my art #batman #persona 5 #p5 #persona #batman x p5 #damian wayne #akira kurusu #ren amamiya #p5 protagonist #ive been holding onto this one for a wHILE

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leonawriter · 5 years

Text

Home Territory

Read it on AO3

Fandom: Bungo Stray Dogs/Mononoke

Pairings: Dazai/Chuuya

Characters: Kunikida, Dazai, Atsushi, Ranpo, Chuuya, Fukuzawa, Mori.

Summary: Kunikida has concerns over Dazai's living arrangements, and fixes things with paperwork. Chuuya is having a crisis of his own, of a far more benign nature. And both Fukuzawa and Mori are reminded of how difficult being the leader of an organisation is when your subordinates aren't always human.

(Part four in the “Not All Kitsune Have Nine Tails” ‘verse. Follows “Smoke and Fox-Fire.”)

...

Once could be passed off as a fluke. A case gone south didn't always end up with everyone back at the agency, or even back home, so with Dazai having gone missing partway through things taking a turn for the strange, he hadn't even questioned Atsushi on why he hadn't come back with a bandaged nuisance in tow that night.

The next morning he'd been similarly distracted by the fact that despite not having seen or heard him arrive or leave the Agency's dorms, there Dazai had been, in all of his red and fluffy glory on his chair, and making more trouble than usual. And that was saying something, given that what was usual was making Kunikida want to tear his hair out.

He had started to actually notice on the second night, when the dorms - despite it being late enough that Dazai should have been back, in theory - were yet again noticeably quiet.

He must have gone out drinking again, is his first thought on that, although something about it feels off. Possibly because Dazai hadn't on one of his notorious pub crawls that would inevitably end up with the police calling him up in the middle of the night for quite some time now, and- it struck him as he continued that train of thought, why it felt wrong. Dazai had been arrested not all that long ago. Not for something as minor as disorderly behaviour, either, but his actual crimes. The serious ones. Surely he wouldn't put himself in that sort of situation again so soon after such an experience...?

Even so, Dazai never showed up all throughout Kunikida's own nighttime preparations, and he wasn't about to interrupt his own schedule and routine for one man just because that was probably what Dazai wanted.

So he came into work again the next morning... and there Dazai was. Again.

Whatever he had been up to, it certainly didn't seem as though he could have been drinking, or at least not to the degree that he had found him in countless times before. There was no lingering smell of alcohol on his clothes, or smoke, that would follow him around the room if that were the case, as had happened before. If anything, there was a sort of musk that followed him now that hadn't before, which confused him until he realised that it was the scent of fur.

None of which explained where Dazai had been the past few nights.

All he was left with was the vague idea that he couldn't have been roughing it in a park - and why do such a thing anyway, when he had a perfectly warm and dry bed to go back to? - or drinking until he rotted away in a cell, and he was clearly going somewhere.

Somewhere that both Ranpo and Atsushi, it seemed, were aware of. Which... while reassuring, and made him at least feel that wherever Dazai had been it couldn't have been anything that would put him in any sort of danger, or anything would be a cause for concern, was still frustrating.

Somewhere that made him at least several minutes to an hour later to work each day, he noted, a glance at the clock telling him that it was closer to the latter this time than the former.

The door to the office opening inward disrupted his thoughts as he prepared for either a client having come on foot, or Dazai, and at this point either was a distinct possibility - only for the first thing to come through the doorway to be an impossibility he had somehow grown used to over the past several days.

A single red ear made way for brown hair and then a second red ear, and then the rest of Dazai followed suit, attempting to saunter into the office and take to his place without being noticed, by the seems of it.

"Dazai."

Dazai froze, and then turned- no, first he flicked an ear in his direction, and then he turned to face him properly. Which was still going to take some getting used to. Ears - anatomy in general - wasn't supposed to work like that. It just wasn't. Not on human beings-

And there it is again, he thinks, catching himself for not the first or last time. Because Dazai, not that it should have even come as a surprise given how inhumanly irritating he could be, wasn't a human being. At least not entirely.

"Eh?" Another ear flick. "Did Kunikida-kun want something or did he just want to make sure I hadn't forgotten my name?"

Breathe, he reminded himself. Do not twist the damn fox's ears just because he's trying to deflect on purpose.

Because, he had to be. Dazai hadn't said a word about this to anyone in the past several days, and... even if no one else was bothered, even if no one else was wondering what was going on or felt concerned at all, Kunikida wasn't anyone else, and the entire situation was starting to grate on him.

"I don't suppose you could explain to me exactly where you've been for the past several nights?"

And there was the up side to the strange new body language. It was harder for Dazai to completely mask his reactions to things unless he used what he had somehow figured out the previous day about his newfound ability to use illusions - not that Dazai had ever needed illusions to make trouble in the first place - and hide his non-human features entirely. In which case it would go without saying that there was something he didn't want to to share.

"I could," Dazai said slowly. "But I don't see why I should have to. I'm not in any danger anyone needs to rescue me from, and I'm coming to work each day-"

"Not that you actually do anything that could be called 'work'," Kunikida couldn't stop himself from correcting.

"-so it isn't as if there's a problem, if-"

"You're late every single day, and we don't know where you are! I fail to see how there isn't a problem with this!" He cuts across Dazai's excuses and the next thing he knows, he's leaving a report half-written to stand up at his desk. "Do I really need to point out that there have been several times in the past few months when you would vanish, and you'd turn up some time later - hours, days, weeks - only for us to find out that actually, what we," and he was perfectly well aware that when it come to some cases, the earlier ones especially, "we" was mostly "him", "had assumed was just more of your slacking off was actually a serious incident that we should have been made aware of!"

The incident with Dazai getting captured and imprisoned by the Port Mafia back before the alliance - before, not that he had been aware at the time, Dazai had been in more danger than any other Agency member due to being seen by the mafia as a traitor. With that in mind, even with it being Dazai who was as slippery as the kitsune trickster he apparently was, it was nothing short of a miracle he had made it out alive.

The serial apple suicides. Getting shot right before the Agency and the mafia went into disarray.

No one had even known where he had been or what had happened to him to even know that he had been arrested until much later, an entire period of time spent not knowing what his status was, whether he was alive or dead, to say nothing of if he had a plan.

At some point, Dazai's ears had flattened back onto his head, staring at him.

"But I'm... I'm fine," Dazai was saying now. Weakly, as if he really didn't see what the issue was. Looking around, only to realise that the office had quieted down to the barest hush of voices, and only then in the direction of the clerks who had come back in spite of everything.

"Even if that's the case, it's still not something that I can stand to let lie, when I'm fine doesn't tell us where you've been."

Dazai has his mouth half open to say something else, whatever it is, but he doesn't get the chance.

"Kunikida has a point, you know." Ranpo, it seemed, was finding the conversation topic serious enough to put down the pastry he'd been eating, even if there were still crumbs on his mouth and fingers. "We're not asking you to come back, if that's what you're worried about."

"We aren't-? I for one would much prefer it if he did come back! At least then-"

"No, we're not. He's a fox, Kunikida. You can't make foxes go where they don't want to go. If Dazai's fine where he is, then he's fine where he is - but at the same time, like I said. You've got a point, because we don't know where he's been."

The last was aimed directly at Dazai himself, with all the authority of Ranpo's extra years and - apparently - extra experience in terms of other matters, that Kunikida had learned during the latter part of the previous day.

"And what if I don't want to tell anyone where I'm staying?"

"Then I'd say you're being a selfish brat," Kunikida ground out, taking only some small amount of satisfaction in the way that Dazai's eyes widened, and he backed away a step, seeming for all the world as though he was just giving them all the same bratty attitude as always - if it weren't for how his ears and tail were quivering like a cornered dog. Which Dazai himself didn't seem to even be aware of.

He sighed, hand pinching the bridge of his nose and then re-adjusting his glasses.

It takes only a few paces to get around his desk - leaving the half-finished report still staring back at him from his computer screen, and wasn't that just like Dazai to interrupt his work even when it wasn't on purpose - and find the filing cabinet with the forms that he knows have rarely had any use, and perhaps that should be fixed, and for more than just Dazai, but with the way everyone in the Agency is... they'd simply never gotten around to it, and for one good reason.

"Kunikida-kun, what are you...?"

"Most of the agents tend not to bother with these, but that's usually because it's seen as unnecessary. The Director doesn't enforce it for the same reason. Would you care to guess what that is?"

"Because it's boring?"

"Because everyone else lives in the same place. The Agency's dorms mean that it's harder for something to just plain happen when no one is watching or aware. And if something happens, we all know- and because we all know, there's no need to contact anyone else." He pulled out the form that he'd been searching for. "If you really aren't coming back, you could at least fill that in."

"...you want to put my new address on the system," Dazai said after a full minute of reading the thing. "I can't do that."

"Dazai-!"

It confirmed his rising suspicions that there was a new address involved, that Dazai hadn't simply not been returning back to the dorms for any other reason, but the outright refusal-

"He's gonna need the next one, Kunikida," he heard, Ranpo's voice pulling him back from the brink of outright throttling his infuriating partner. The next one. Of course he had thought of that, but who could possibly...? And yet, Ranpo seemed certain.

So, out came the "next" form. The one that usually went with the first one. The one that he hadn't even thought Dazai would be able to have filled out, if he had just found somewhere else to stay, somehow.

Something shifts.

Atsushi, who had been looking between the two of them with some level of anxiety, attempted - and succeeded - to get behind Dazai to look past him at what Kunikida had given him. When he saw, the kid's eyes widened, brows rose, and then he looked first at Dazai and then at Ranpo.

"Oh," the kid said, "I get it. I never needed one of those because... but... d'you really think that person will..?"

Which outright confirmed that Atsushi knew who Dazai was staying with, that he was staying with someone, and hadn't told anyone else. Ranpo he could understand, because he was Ranpo - he'd probably been able to take one good look at Dazai over the past several days and could have figured how exactly what was going on without any help at all.

Dazai, meanwhile, just shrugged and folded up both forms, putting them in an inner pocket of his coat and leaving Kunikida to wonder if they'd simply disappear over the course of the day, or turn up with immature doodles all over them.

...

Dazai wasn't sure when the words come love, sleep had somehow turned into the sound of Chuuya closing the door behind him and kicking off his shoes, or hearing him call out I'm home just like he had ever since his third night staying over. Because the first night had just been the two of them collapsing into bed together and not being sure who would still be there come morning, and the second hadn't really been expected-

But somehow, somewhere along the way, Chuuya has been letting him make himself at home.

There's his own sleeping yukata waiting on the bed, since it's more comfortable now than pyjamas, and his toothbrush is in Chuuya's bathroom. Chuuya has started to buy canned crab (again; he remembers when they were partners and Chuuya would just shove it in his face when he hadn't been eating at all, because he hadn't seen the point, and looking back it was probably the fact that Chuuya had wrestled him into it and remembering that there was worth being there for and paying attention to, rather than the crab itself).

The previous night, they'd somehow wound up with Chuuya sitting normally - more or less - on his sofa, while Dazai's head rested in his lap, half of Chuuya's attention on the reports he'd brought home and had brought out despite Dazai's protests, and half on Dazai's head, including his ears, which he knew were soft and, when he was in his more human form, by far more accessible than the only other fluffy part of him.

Especially with the fact that being a hanyou apparently came with sharp bits - claws, and teeth, and sometimes he could control them, but he couldn't always, and sometimes... sometimes Chuuya's furniture suffered the consequences.

He kept expecting harsh admonishments, because he'd often caused less harm when he'd done things on purpose - maybe Chuuya didn't see it that way, but at least shifting all of his belongings an inch to the left just to see him come to work the next day covered in bruises had been harmless, as had been covering everything Chuuya had owned at the time with (unused) old bandages, just because of some insult he had wanted his partner to regret having made.

But Chuuya... Chuuya noticed, and made strange, odd noises in the back of his throat like he was trying to strangle something back there, and he'd breathe, and just... move on. He had to notice, when there were scratches in the upholstery and the carpets and the woodwork. Dazai had been on the receiving end of more than one headache-inducing tirade on how the chibi wanted him not to touch his things and not to damage any of his things, but now he had been-

Nothing.

The worst he'd had in response had been what he could only assume had been a joking suggestion that maybe we should get you a cat scratching post, which he couldn't imagine being much help if he did go through with it.

There was fur all over the place.

From his tail, but also from the few times so far that he had simply gone around on all fours, the novelty not quite having worn off. He still had a puffy soft coat that had plenty of fluff to spare, so every so often bits would just... snag. He wouldn't even notice most of the time. But it had reached the point in even just this long, less than a week, and no matter any of the other things-

Chuuya's home smelled of Dazai.

When he'd first arrived earlier in the week, it had been full of the scent of smoke and wine and freshly laundered clothes, as well as the barely hidden tang of old, dried blood and steel that came from his knives and that lingered in the doorway, and all the places that Chuuya would linger after a mission.

Now, the scent of kitsune followed into every room. The scent was still light, hadn't settled into the pores of the house, could still be exorcised with time and deodoriser, but there was something heady and frankly terrifying to the idea that this was happening, that he could tell that it was happening when previously he'd repressed everything so far that he'd barely noticed that his senses were any more sensitive than those of a human being who tended to notice a little more than most.

The entire house felt like potential, and two pieces of paper burned holes in his coat pocket. Despite the well-meaning intentions of his co-workers, they felt more like a threat than anything nearly as encouraging as they must have intended.

Except-

Ranpo had been the one to suggest the second form. Ranpo, who knew youkai better than Dazai, and who had a good nose like the cat he was, and who had meet Chuuya before.

And Dazai... trusted Ranpo.

He just wished that he trusted himself - trusted whatever this was that he and Chuuya were starting together - even half as much.

...

The first thing Chuuya thinks when he calls out and doesn't get a response is that Dazai must have been out late on a case, or that he'd stayed at the dorms again, or... any number of things he hadn't felt the need to tell Chuuya about, never mind the fact that apparently they live together now-

But then he sees the shoes in the genkan, and that means that Dazai had to be in here somewhere.

He thought, at least, given how quiet it was. Weirdly quiet, for a place that should have a Dazai in it. After all, Dazai didn't even have to have his shoes on to go out, and for all he knew, he might wind up halfway through the night and hearing scratching at his door-

He goes through the motions of putting his coat up, but he's still wearing his knife when he walks into the living room and the first thing he sees is that there's something on the coffee table, and he's already picked it up by the time he realises that Dazai's not just still here, but still in the room - not that he'd have noticed if he hadn't caught the smallest movements out of the corner of his eye.

Just a week ago, and a fox in my living room hiding under the sofa would be cause to grab the thing and throw it out as far as I could so it didn't come back, and now... what?

He blinked.

The words on the page he'd picked up without thinking didn't change, or rearrange themselves. And after yesterday, he half expected they would. That this would be some sort of new prank, and Dazai was on all fours just to make sure he could run off faster than Chuuya could catch him.

As far as he could see, it was just a normal form. The words were printed in black and white, on normal print paper. Hell, it was the sort of generic thing that he'd had to fill out just working for the mafia a few times, because no matter that they were a criminal organisation, gods forbid they didn't have their internal paperwork and filing systems in order.

So he knew what it was. He wasn't an idiot. It was just the context that was...

Unable to finish that thought, he reached out mechanically to the next sheet of paper that'd been hidden under the first, and nearly drops them both.

Notification of Change of Address was the first one.

Emergency Contact Details was the second.

Both of them had the Armed Detective Agency's header on them, just in case he wasn't sure where they'd come from.

"Dazai?"

He's not sure what, exactly, his voice is doing, but it feels like he must have gone through several different emotions in the space of saying that one word.

Dazai whining normally is just something to roll his eyes at, because whatever he's going on about and making eyes at him for, is probably just something he could have handled himself if he'd only been bothered to deal with whatever it was earlier, or that's not actually a big deal at all but he's just being an attention-seeking brat about things.

Dazai whining as a fox is just a pitiful sound that he really... doesn't know how to deal with.

"Whether either of us like it or not, I can't speak fox, Dazai. You're gonna have to work with me here." He glanced back at the forms. They still said the same things. "I don't get... this."

He stared, mind blanking out the longer he stood there, hoping that if he just waited long enough Dazai would give in and explain what was going on. It was more than a relief when red fur wriggled out from its hiding place and jumped up onto the sofa only to be Dazai-shaped - or rather, mostly human Dazai-shaped - before he hit the cushions.

"Kunikida-kun got mad at me," Dazai said, and maybe if someone didn't know him as well as Chuuya did they'd think he was relaxed, but Chuuya could see the tension in his body and in all the ways he did and didn't know he was showing it. The way he wouldn't meet Chuuya's eyes, instead concentrating on something on the ceiling. "I haven't been sleeping at the dorms since..." he trailed off, and didn't have to finish that, since Chuuya already knew what he was talking about. "It's only been a few days, but given it's Kunikida-kun I shouldn't really be that surprised."

Which explained just about as much as it didn't - not enough.

"What... exactly, did you tell them, then?" No, that wasn't- "Why did you wind up with these?"

Dazai blinked up at him, and for a moment he was afraid he'd just wind up with a sorry-looking fox again.

"Because," Dazai half-mumbled quietly enough Chuuya almost couldn't hear the words, "I sort of let slip that I wouldn't be going back to the dorms." A blink, as they both stared at each other, and a widening of Dazai's eyes. "I mean - that I didn't want to- I..." He deflated somewhat, and brought his knees up, tail curling around himself and making him look far younger and more innocent than Dazai had any right to be, after all he'd done. "I didn't tell them where, or that it was you, though."

"Dazai..."

The name came out more as a slow exhale, a sigh than anything, full of emotions he couldn't quite put names on. At least, not yet.

Brown eyes narrowed, and then the next thing he knew Dazai was on his front, face in a cushion.

"If Chuuya wanted to say something all he needed was to say it."

The words that's rich, coming from you gathered at the top of his tongue, but he bit them off with as much patience as he could muster up.

A dozen different things he could say all went the same way.

Usually, people don't move so fast.

Most people don't move in so quickly.

We don't even know what we're doing half the time.

Or what we are to each other other outside of-

Come, love. Sleep.

"I thought... I guess I just thought that when you'd figured out who you were again, you'd just... I dunno. Go back."

"I thought Chuuya didn't want me to go back, or go anywhere. I thought Chuuya just wanted me to come back to him."

There was something about the words that was dizzying. Dazai was a fickle, changeable bastard fox who just left, who left and didn't care and who was... saying that he wanted... that he thought...

Chuuya sat down. Still holding the two forms in his hand.

Dazai lifted his head up, squishing one ear against the cushion in an odd way that didn't seem comfortable, but that Dazai didn't seem to notice.

"What... is this what you want?"

Dazai doesn't just stay. Dazai doesn't do anything without some sort of backup plan, or motive.

He only came with me because I asked first, if the weretiger had asked first, that'd be where he'd be staying. Not here.

Just because I "called dibs."

"Chuuya's being particularly stupid right now." Maybe he was. But it wasn't like Dazai was being much better, and that made him feel more okay about the whole ordeal. "I want to stay here. Didn't I just say that?"

Oh.

In some dim corner of his mind, he realised that this would take a fair bit more than just this one form - not that Dazai would likely be all that bothered, because as long as his letters could be passed along through his coworkers, he'd just be lazy and not bother with it - but that... that could be later.

He wondered, considering it was Dazai, what whoever had given him the second form had been thinking, when they'd thought of that.

"How much do they know?" he asked with a slight frown.

There were some things that'd happened that night that... were the entire reason he'd half dragged, half carried Dazai into his home and let him get away with so much in the first place.

"Hm? Ah. Oh... that. I... haven't really told them," Dazai said, now picking at a loose thread on the sofa that wouldn't have been there if it weren't for Dazai's claws picking at it in the first place. It was almost funny. As a kid, he'd never even dreamed of having upholstery that wasn't at least a bit ratty. Even the best the Sheep had been able to get their hands on had holes in places, because the adults had taken the good stuff first. And then when he'd been half-dragged into the mafia, he'd gained an appreciation for how he'd been able to afford furniture that didn't even have a nick or scratch. Now here he was, and Dazai was tearing holes and scratches in everything- something he wasn't about to stop doing, either. The future seemed full of imperfect furniture, and the more he thought about that, the less awful it became. "Atsushi knows," Dazai was saying, pulling Chuuya out of his own thoughts. "Because he was there. And he knows enough to notice things. He's a good kid." Chuuya nodded along, because from what little he'd seen, he'd agree with that. "Ranpo probably does, too."

Chuuya scowled and shuddered at that name - that detective. Just because they were back on the same side again didn't mean that hearing the name and knowing that the detective knew - or even just suspected - that one sore spot of Dazai's right now wasn't rubbing salt into the wound.

"And you trust them?"

The more they talked, the more Dazai relaxed, his tail and ears twitching from time to time, and this time he even grabbed at the extra limb he'd gained in the past week, losing his hands in the fur.

"Neither of them have told anyone else," he said. "I might tell the others. Sooner or later. Maybe. Or I might just leave it and see who notices first."

"Whatever you want to do, really," Chuuya found himself saying. "They're your people."

People who Chuuya would end up interacting with a lot more than he'd ever planned on, the moment he's finished signing his life and what little remained of his peace and quiet away. But if Dazai didn't want to say anything just yet, then neither would he.

"Mm," Dazai hummed out. "They are." Dazai tilted his head. Chuuya wasn't even sure if Dazai really understood what he'd just said, how differently youkai saw their connections with people compared to normal human friendships. Then again, Dazai barely understood that sort of thing anyway. "So... you agree to both?"

"I didn't just let you into my home for shits and giggles, Dazai. Or to just kick you out the moment I felt like it." Dazai was still watching him. Waiting. "That's a yes."

He just hoped this wasn't going to come back to bite him in the ass in the middle of the day and a call from some poor Agency soul who'd drawn the short straw to contact him when Dazai starts acting like the brat he is just for the attention. It'd hardly be the first time he'd have done a thing like that.

"....Chuuya?"

So there was something else.

"What?"

"Talking of telling." Dazai was now wearing his serious face, although the effect was marred somewhat by the fluffy ears, and the fact that he was still holding onto his own tail on Chuuya's sofa. "About that. If there are going to be records, I want you to tell Mori what's going on before he has a chance to find out for himself."

"I thought you didn't want me to tell the Boss."

"And now I do. I just told you why. Are you going to do it or not?"

"You say that as if it'd ever be easier to not tell him something. Of course I will. Though if it weren't for the what I'd be making you tell him yourself - and you're still going to owe me for this."

Dazai had the gall to stick his tongue out, which just emphasised the effect of making him look ridiculous.

"What's mine is yours, Chuuya."

"We're basically housesharing, Dazai. We're not married or anything."

He stood up abruptly, taking the two forms with him and neatly avoiding the - thankfully socked - foot that Dazai tried sending at him, and doing his best to look straight ahead at the kitchen instead of looking back. And wishing he hadn't just said that, or that he could just put his hat back on and hide his face without getting called out for it.

You've told him you love him already days ago, he thought to himself, inner voice calling him an idiot as he heated up the water for tea, and started the food prep because gods knew Dazai wasn't going to. Most people who share their house with someone don't sleep in the same bed as that person, either.

At this point, he didn't think he could tell Dazai to sleep in another room. And not just because it'd feel like a betrayal.

Dazai, who he knew damn well was a chronic insomniac... had been sleeping. Dazai had been sleeping, and he'd been doing so in Chuuya's arms, for the past couple of nights.

Not to mention, he... could hardly say he hadn't been feeling better for being able to wake up to fluff and fur and bandages and noodle limbs and the ever-present cool sensation of Dazai's ability nullifying his own.

...

Fukuzawa Yukichi took one look at the two forms that Dazai had handed him, from which could be gathered the exact home address and contact details of someone he knew to be a mafia executive, and then looked back at Dazai himself.

Dazai, who was standing there, waiting patiently with a purposefully neutral expression on his face.

For a moment, for all their differences, he couldn't help but be reminded of Yosano, and wondered how many times Dazai had stood in just that sort of way in front of Mori Ougai, to ask something of the man that in all likelihood should have been given freely, and without such worry or concern.

An ear flicked, and then went back to its alert position.

Only kids do that sort of thing, Ranpo had said to him just the other night about the way Dazai wore his fur, distressed but quiet. Kids and hanyou! I should've known before. But because it was Dazai I just didn't- but I should've known.

It wasn't often that Ranpo came to him with frustrations about not knowing something, and even less frequently about those things that concerned the non-human side of things. And now that he did, it was about a coworker. One of Yukichi's own subordinates, even.

He sighed.

"By the way that this is coming to my attention, it seems that this is more to inform me of something that has already been decided, rather than to seek my approval." The changes - the minute shifting of Dazai's posture, the twitches of his features - might have remained invisible to most, but to Yukichi, who had experience with reading far more subtle signs than this, the nervous tension was as clear as day. "Dazai."

"Director, I-"

"There is no need to apologise for doing what you felt that you must after what was clearly a stressful situation," although simply describing it as stressful felt like he was understating things, here, given what he understood had happened. "Or putting your trust in someone. I merely wish to know that the two of you have thought this through. Although the Agency and the Port Mafia are currently at peace, we are both well aware of how easily such a truce could be affected by events outside of our control."

If anything, discomfort he could see and sense in Dazai rose, but that was hardly outside of expectations given the subject and situation.

"You can trust that I wouldn't allow my living conditions to affect my loyalties, or to become a danger," Dazai said. In just as much of a carefully neutral tone as he had made sure to put on his features.

"Dazai, it isn't your loyalty that I am concerned about," he said, eyes shutting for a moment as he thought about all of the potential repercussions of this. In the past two years since his entrance exam, Yukichi had never once, not even since he had first been made aware of the boy's previous occupation, questioned that loyalty - never had he been given any reason to.

"In which case," as if that had been something they had needed to have made clear at all, "I can only say that should anything come up... Chuuya and I will need to deal with such things as they do."

"Then it seems that you have thought of everything already, and the Agency can merely do the best we can with regards to keeping the information that the two of us have trusted us with as safe as possible."

From Dazai's expression, that wasn't what he had hesitantly knocked on his Director's door and expected to come away with. That, along with the sharp but uncertain way that Dazai bowed his thanks and left, made him relieved at the quiet and privacy that enabled him to rub at his forehead, at the premonition of a headache as well as hoping that Dazai's situation turned out to help him – and that whatever came their way that threatened such stability that he had managed to find for himself didn't break him.

Then again, that was the reason he had built the Armed Detective Agency up around Ranpo in the first place, was it not? Not simply just to ease the burden on one boy and ensure that he was safe, but for them to support each other.

...

Mori Ougai watched Chuuya leave with most of his expression covered up by his hands still steepled in front of his face. He closed his eyes the moment the door closed, allowing himself to let out the breath that he had been holding in, which wasn't - quite - a sigh.

"I've started compiling an offline database of people in the communities who'd be good to have on side. Not even necessarily outright working for the mafia, just good to have owe us a favour or two."

That was what he had started with. And if Ougai were to be honest, he hadn't expected anything of the sort in such a short period of time. Granted, the list of names on the handwritten sheet of notes was small, and with the way things Chuuya had explained to him, no matter what he said or how he spun things, it would be more Chuuya that any of these people would be answering to, than him.

A minor note, and one that he was more than willing to let slide for one reason - that Chuuya himself was still loyal to him. Just as importantly, loyal to the mafia as an organisation. As long as that were the case, then there was nothing for him to be concerned about either way.

And then the bombshells had fallen - two connected pieces of information that he had known he would have to tread carefully with the moment he heard them, because of how he knew he could so easily break the two involved with one wrong move.

"There's a name that isn't on the list, Boss," Chuuya had said. "Dazai's got kitsune in him." Strong enough to be affected by the rules of these communities, evidently. And interesting though it may have been to have pressed on the matter and find out just how much, how strongly, and when either of them had found out this fascinating new development... said rules had confined him into a mere nod and a gesture to continue when he could see that Chuuya wasn't finished. "He's also moved in with me."

On the one hand, it would have been appreciated if he had been given some fair advanced warning to such a development; Dazai being able to potentially see whatever work Chuuya brought home with him was not a thought he liked to dwell on, considering his former executive's current mode of employment.

But on the other hand - it was hardly as though he could have stopped them, and nor could he now, if he wanted to.

It was as he had told Kouyou in reference to the incident in which she had been captured by the Agency; just like her, if Chuuya wished at any time to leave, then there would be very little that either he or the entire mafia behind him would be able to do to stop him. And with Dazai at his back... Double Black had been feared for a reason. From the picture he was beginning to paint of the youkai culture and mindset, the very action of opposing them only could end in a bloodbath.

Perhaps Chuuya liked to tell himself that he was as human as the friends he enjoyed socialising with, or even the body that he owed half of his very existence to. But the more Chuuya told Ougai of what to expect, the more his mind drifted back to innumerable instances that now made more sense, just as he was sure that the same could be said for Dazai's own behaviours. Even the very loyalty that made him so invaluable was merely a symptom of the whole, and now left him wondering just how much of Arahabaki was subsumed into being Chuuya's ability, and how much had survived in other means.

Questions, perhaps, for another time. Or at least to ponder privately.

In some situations, the most optimal solution was a swift strike, to act first before the opponent could so much as formulate a plan; in others, the only thing to do was to accept the way that the board had presented itself, and trust that things would sort themselves out in the most beneficial manner for all involved. In this case, the latter.

A downpayment in trust indeed, he thought to himself.

...

AN: If there are things that don't make sense in the Dazai-Chuuya section, there's a reason for that. You don't have the (full) context yet.

(That’ll be shown in “Fox-Faced,” so please read that too. Although I’d love to know what you think it is with only this and the previous fics to go by~)

#bungo stray dogs #bsd #bsd stuff #kitsune dazai #Leona fic #bsd mnnk au

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