Ｌ♡ＶＥ ＴＲＩＰ | odasaku x reader

CHINESE RESTAURANT

"Oda-kun, it's time to get up."

Odasaku was, one moment, sitting under a bridge, his arms hugging his knees, watching, mesmerized, the ocean's grey-blue waves, numbing, numbing, sleeping, slipping, sleeping . . .

He sat up groggily, moving the sheets out of the way. He blinked and stared at Dazai blankly, who still held the knob to his door, standing there like a mother waking up her child on the first day of school. "What? Did you forget?" He shook his head disappointedly, shrugging exaggeratedly.

Odasaku stared at him, remembering the breeze under the bridge that floated up around him and swayed his hair back and forth. His mind was vivid from the memory of the dark clouds converging above the bridge, above the bridge, where the world didn't exist.

His comrade let out a long sigh. "Jeez," He moaned. "We're supposed to be meeting someone important today, Oda-kun!" He whined. "Get up and get moving. We're leaving in five." Then he shut the door with a slam; quick, heavy footsteps stomping away.

The lonely man looked out the window, at the sky with no hint of a storm gathering on the waterfront. "Five minutes, huh,"

His neck hurt. Simply swiveling his head to the side to gaze out the window told him that. He brought his hand to his neck and swung his feet over the bed. He walked to the bathroom and threw water on his face. It felt nice and cool.

It felt uncanny.

He gazed at the reflection, who was brushing his teeth.

He made his bed, with hardly no thought about it.

He felt his arms flesh out his jacket's sleeves.

All of it felt uncanny.

Ango was driving Odasaku and Dazai to the meeting place. He looked at Ango; staring straight ahead, hands moving across the wheel accordingly, by themselves. What was he thinking about? He looked at Dazai; head against the car window, staring up at the skyscrapers with his mouth slightly agape. What was he thinking about?

"Who are we seeing today?" Odasaku dared to ask, daring to shatter the heavy silence between the three men.

Dazai didn't move. Ango looked at him from the rearview mirror, "We don't really know ourselves. The only person who seems to know is the boss. Apparently, we're going to be introduced to a new member of the Port Mafia. She's-"

"She?!" Dazai lifted his head off the cold glass, looking at Ango with excited wide eyes.

Ango let out a low scoff. "Yes, she. Anyway, the boss has only gotten her to join just recently, and we're going to be working with her for a while, at least until she loses her usefulness and the boss disposes of her."

Odasaku looked at Dazai, who smirked and leaned back on the window. "Let's see how long that takes."

"Hmm?" Odasaku said. "We're not going to Lupin's?" He watched as their favorite bar sped past.

"Of course not," Dazai cried. "We don't want our secret hideout to be found, do we?"

The three mafia members entered a chinese restaurant. The restaurant was filled with the sounds of carefree families and friends, and the smell of fried noodles and freshly cooked rice. He moved his head, looking around, neck still hurting. Commercialized Chinese decorations. A fake bamboo plant in the corner. An upside down 'Luck' symbol. Three grainy televisions were hooked up to different walls, the patrons craning their necks to watch while aiming their chopsticks in their mouths. The entire atmosphere almost hugged Odasaku with it's whimsical innocence and trivial moments of happiness.

It was so peaceful.

Dazai's lips went into a line and he folded his arms. "I'm not too fond of Chinese," He told Ango, who was waiting in line for them to get a seat. "Why is this the meeting place?"

Ango didn't look at him. "Because she wanted to eat here." He stepped up in line.

When they were finally given a table, Odasaku and Ango requested simply water, while Dazai ordered beer and dumplings. He nimbly used chopsticks to shove each dumpling in his mouth as they talked.

"We," Odasaku said, "You said, 'We don't really know ourselves'. Who's we?"

Ango and Dazai looked at him strangely. "I could have said that." Said Ango. "Why?"

"I'm asking," He said simply, feeling the cold glass of water and the perspiration that appeared on it.

"I suppose me and Dazai-kun," He glanced at him, who was dipping his food into a little saucer of soy sauce.

Dazai laughed. "I'm hearing a bitch-ass liar," He remarked boisterously.

"Excuse me?" Ango's eyebrow twitched.

"You know a lot more about Ms. Mystery than you're letting on, Ango-kun," He didn't look up.

Ango glared at him and moved his glass of water, creating a trail of condensation. "I don't know her personally. But, unfortunately, you know me, Dazai-kun. I researched the living hell out of her just from the name the boss gave me."

"Thought so," Dazai took a sip of his beer.

"Her name is Y/n L/n. The boss used her often if he wanted dirty work done and didn't want it to be tied to the Port Mafia."

"Then why did he get her to join if she was useful outside?" Odasaku asked.

"That's beyond me. I can never figure out the boss's intentions." Ango replied curtly. "She was born in America, and by an extremely convoluted process of her being used as a murder weapon, ended up here."

"What's her gift?" Odasaku asked, noticing a light flicker above him.

Dazai poked at another dumpling. "You seem pretty invested, Oda-kun. More invested than me, surprisingly."

He shrugged. "If she's being used by the boss, she must be powerful."

Ango continued, "Her ability is known as 'Fahrenheit 451'. She can summon a blade of flames. She's murdered 54 people." He said that number as if it was a competition.

Odasaku crossed his legs.

Ango abruptly stood up, the chair scraping against the floor. "She's here." Dazai noticed her as well and stood up quickly, causing some of his beer to spill over the edge. Odasaku did the same, turning around to face the new Port Mafia member. She

was just a woman. Simply a woman. A woman who committed 54 murders.

She wore a smile in which innocence was powdered on her lips. Her bright, mischievous eyes seemed to take in his appearance. He felt as though she was turning him inside out, flipping out his pockets, walking around him in circles, even though she simply stood there. He wished she would stop looking at him like that, but perhaps, he was doing the same to her unknowingly.

It was so peaceful.

She was the first to bow, "Hello," She said to the ground.

Oh, right. Bow. It was common Japanese courtesy. "Hello," Three voices responded back.

Ango moved around the table to step near Y/n. "We are here to welcome you into the Port Mafia. I am Ango Sakaguchi." He bowed once again.

"Dazai Osamu,"

"Oda Sakunosuke,"

"Y/n L/n," She was smiling widely, taking in each name and mentally writing it down. She smiled, while the other three men frowned at her.

Odasaku figured he should say something, at least help this woman not feel so alienated. He scratched the back of his neck. "Looks like you'll be joining the Buraiha, huh?" He sounded very weird. Disconnected, like listening to your voice in a recording.

She nodded happily, almost seemingly excited to work with him.

But Dazai only let out a violent scoff. His accusing eyes landed on Odasaku, lines forming around his sneering mouth. He spat, "She'll never be one of us, Oda-kun."

It was so naturally peaceful, it felt uncanny.