Kamikazee

Chapter 1

It had been three years and six months since Dazai had left the Port Mafia.

....

Not that it mattered.

It really didn't.

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Chuuya Nakahara, the Port Mafia executive, in all of his glory, felt like shit.

He hadn't slept in seventy-two hours and he couldn't remember the last time he had a proper meal. He was exhausted. That felt like an understatement. But he held his head high and his shoulders stayed back with posture. It could matter less what he felt physically while he had all of his subordinates undying trust in him. Trust in him to get them back safely, trust in him to lead them through the dangers of the enemy's claws. They all believed in him. So he had to keep it that way. He couldn't let a single one fall. He kept watch all night while they slept in the hidden camps. He handed his food to the subordinates, he gave them his blankets and his pillows, he even let the new kid use his coat to keep them warm. He felt obligated to do this.

But in the morning when they left to head back to the base, that happened. It really did a number on him. As they were walking through the hidden tunnels which the Port Mafia has flowing under the entire city of Yokohama, they didn't expect anyone else to be there. There was one more flank of the enemy troops. One more faction. They would wipe out ten at a time earlier, but this proved difficult. This faction was only made of the Gifted. They had been strong. Around eight to ten of them. His subordinates looked to him, trusting him to get them out safely. Entrusting their lives to the ginger. Chuuya couldn't protect them all. Not even the majority of them.

Looking through the ruins of what the Gifted group left in the aftermath, he found all but one of his subordinates dead. The one left living, the young boy whom he had given his coat to.

The kid looked rough. He had bloody scrapes and scratches everywhere due to the falling rubble and the glass ability which one of the Gifted Faction members had possessed. His eyes bloodshot and his left arm twisted in ways an arm should never be. His lip busted and bruised, his hair matt with dust and debris. He was breathing, hell, even trying to stand up. How brave.

Chuuya the last Gifted member, who's gift had been something with what seemed to be poorly stitched dolls, lifeless. The ability user herself had black and white hair. It was a bit tall. Lowering the falling blow on her head had been a piece of cake, she didn't have much personal defense skills.

Not looking back to check, Chuuya sped over to the young boy as fast as he could to tend to his wounds.

"Hey! Kid, here let me-"

Chuuya attempted to help the boy wipe the dust off his face only to have his hand slapped away. He wanted to scold the younger one for resisting help but he soon stopped himself. The boy was scared, as was he. He wanted nothing to do but help him. He had to wait for him to calm down.

"Hey, hey, shh. It's okay, It's me, Chuuya?" Chuuya was rubbing the now sobbing child's back. Child is a bit over, maybe teen, early teen? Fourteen or fifteen maybe. It was so saddening knowing that there were still kids this young in such an environment. Sure, maybe Chuuya had been dragged into the Mafia at fifteen and Dazai even younger, but he didn't know how young. Stuff like that wasn't talked about.

The boy had begun to calm down a considerable amount after a couple of minutes.

"I- I'm sorry, Chuuya-san!" He was barely choking out Chuuya's name. Ragged breaths had been the only thing filling the silence of the echoey tunnels accompanied by the occasional words of assurance being whispered to help reassure the hyperventilating one.

"Let's get you out of here, okay? We have to treat those, they look pretty nasty." Chuuya was genuinely concerned for the kid's health, but now he started to get a look at him. He had light brown or really dark blond hair, (Chuuya couldn't tell in this lighting, he'll have to re-check later), and light gray eyes.

"Say, uh, what's your name?" He felt really guilty for not remembering the first time when the subordinates had introduced themselves to him. He felt like a shitty guy, that's something only shitty guys do.

"My n-name is Hiroki, Sir" His voice was still shaky but it was getting there. Chuuya began to once again place his coat over him to try and warm him up. It seemed to work.

"Thanks, Hiroki." Chuuya was about to ask Hiroki to help him search for any other survivors, but once he did a quick gaze over the area he realized that, no, there were no survivors. All the bodies had seemed so malformed now. It was demoralizing, for Chuuya, not being able to protect those who had complete and utter faith in him. He let all of them down. In an extremity.

"You'll get us out right? My friend, her name is Kairi, she has black hair and is really tall. Can you help me find her? I know- I know she's okay."

As Chuuya heard these words, his heart sank even lower. He didn't know it could do that. He knew there was little to no chance that Hiroki's friend was alive. Even then, he still agreed to help. He had to decide between using a gravitational wave to find any more heart beats in the still room, or taking Hiroki to search. If he used the gravitational wave, then he would end up breaking the news to Hiroki, but if he decided to take Hiroki with him to search for her, he would have to deal with the kid possibly seeing his dead best friend, bent out of shape and bloodied.

He couldn't decide but he still went with the gravitational wave. As the feelings of the room pulsated back and forth, responding to the waves, one of those feelings included a heart beat. The executive sighed in relief, then realizing that it could just be another person. His heart sank once more. But the possibility was too much to pass up.

"I can help you look for her, if you find her, tell me, alright?" Saying this with a soft smile, again trying to reassure Hiroki.

"Alright!" Said the boy, so they began to start looking. Small steps taken by the gray-eyed teen, but steps nonetheless. The kid seemed incredibly shaken up by the appearance of his fellow subordinates. They were also bloodied. Skulls bashed in, guts torn out. It was a brutal sight. Noticing this, the redhead decided to try to distract Hiroki.

"Hey, uh, where are you from?" A questioning but soft look rested on the mafioso's face.

"I- I don't really know" The mood had shifted even more. If telling the kid he isn't alone, would that help?

"Well, I can tell you this, you aren't alone. I am still not fully aware of what I-" He paused slightly and proposed a small frown "where I'm from." He corrected himself. It's true, he still didn't entirely know where and what he came from. But that isn't the point.

"O-oh. If you don't really want to talk about it, then you don't- you don't have to, you know?"

The kindness of the kid's heart was bright enough to light up a room tenfold. It really didn't belong in the mafia. The kid should live. That idea was adopted almost instantly after Chuuya had heard those words. 

"Lets go find your friend, shall we?"

The small boy offered a small, sweet smile that could outshine even the biggest diamond out there. It was endearing and warm. 

He will live. End of discussion.