★彡[ᴇᴠᴇʀʏᴏɴᴇ ʟᴏᴠᴇꜱ ᴄʜᴜᴜʏᴀ]彡★

And Then There Shall Be Nothing Left

It did not take long to find Chuuya.

And not just because of the indefatigable crisscross of electrifying red that cut through the dark like lighting.

No, there was something else. A feeling fluttering dimly at the edge of Dazai's peripherals. One that whispered into his mind exactly where to go and how to get there.

He had only been faintly aware of it before, but now, if he focused hard enough - he could see that he could quite literally see everything. 

Images pulsed at his temple in time with the red sparks:

The citizens of Yokohama, motionless and enraptured.

Edgar Alan Poe, walking backwards from the crowd until a glint of light sent an involuntary feeling coursing through him and he went just as still.

Atsushi Nakajima, coming hazily awake in a sea of black.

And of course -- Chuuya. His pupils were constricted to the point that his eyes were a sickly white and his skin was inhumanly pale. He could have passed for dead if it weren't for the  fact he was enveloped in Corruption, exchanging rapid blows with a creature a million times his size against the backdrop of a starless sky.

That last image vanished with a bloodcurdling shriek. It was impossible to tell whether it came from the monster or Chuuya.  

Dazai quickly made his way through the rest of the forest. He came into a small clearing, finding himself standing behind a foreigner. Her hands were on her hips as she watched the explosive battle before her, backlit by the eye-stinging flashes of light.

The detective slid quietly from the remaining underbrush, withdrawing the pistol he stole from Higuchi and pressing it to the back of the woman's head.

Without turning, she rose her small palms up in a sort of surrender.

"Osamu Dazai," she said by way of greeting, "Do I have to tell you how you found me, or have you already guessed by now?

"I think I've got it figured out." Dazai answered curtly, lips bent into an ugly smirk.

The foreigner laughed, a hallow, mirthless thing, "Good. I do hate explanations."

There was a boom, the sound of air being contorted, followed by a beastly howl. The ground beneath them shook. 

 Dazai badly wanted to look, to catch just a glimpse of the gravity-manipulator, to see how far he was into Arahabaki. Chuuya could only go so long before all his energy was sapped up by his own rampage, Dazai's timing had to be perfect.

"You were supposed to die in the warehouse, you know."

"Awww, really?" Dazai said, "Man, usually I'd be pretty enthusiastic about that."

He nodded at the fight, "But sadly I made a promise to the fella back there that I'd see him through this before offing myself. Oh, and for future reference, I want to commit double suicide so unless you're willing to join me-"

The foreigner scoffed, "A lady of my stature would never."

"A lady of your stature," the detective echoed, venom dripping into his voice, "May I ask exactly who you think you are?"

"Mary Shelley," Mary Shelley said, her own tone becoming more delighted at Dazai's obvious anger, "A humble mercenary following her Boss' orders."

She thought for a moment, then added, "Oh, and also Chuuya's ex-girlfriend."

Dazai had never flicked the safety off a gun faster than he did then.

Mary bust out laughing, spinning around to face him, "Bwhahahaha! You should see your face right now! Ah, no need to look so furious, I'm only kidding. Trust me, if you heard any of what I just had the horrible pleasure of witnessing, you'd know that boy is so very gay."