Molly's Fics Cause she Refuses to Read Them on Ao3

Systematic Defense

"...I understand."

Higuchi so happens to be handing over a report, and she cautiously reminds, "Chuuya-san, please stay calm."

"I am very calm," he responds, both to her and to the bespectacled envoy from the Agency. Dazai's work partner, if he remembers correctly.

As someone who works for the mafia—and more importantly, someone who calls herself Akutagawa's kouhai—she's a very resilient person. That's why, even when she looks frightened, she still pushes on with a, "Um, you've crushed your pen to dust."

With a low voice, "I imagined that this is that shitty Dazai's face so I can keep calm." He takes a deep breath and floats the ashen remains of his pen to the trashcan. He nods to Hirotsu, who has escorted the Agency's envoy here.

A security measure—but not because the mafia is somehow afraid that one person could cause havoc here. It's because there's an unspoken acknowledgement that anyone bringing Dazai-related news always runs the risk of becoming collateral damage.

He stands up, entire body brimming with barely-controlled anger. As if sensing his uncharitable thoughts towards many people, primarily Dazai, for being so easy to kidnap—he feels his belly twinge. A kick from inside the swell of his stomach. He's past the halfway mark of this first pregnancy and their kid is very cooperative in punching and kicking whenever he can sense him growing angry towards his other father.

"Yeah, I'm going to kick your mackerel dad's ass after this too," he promises, as he rubs the spot that their kid just kicked.

To the people in his office, "Tell Boss and Ane-san that I'll go straight home after this, I'll make up for the rest of my work later."

"Nakahara—"

"—I'll be fine, I can handle myself." This is to the only person who'd call him by his surname. He'd usually be more rankled about someone doubting his capabilities, just by looking at the fact that he's a pregnant Omega. Then again, he has to take into account that this envoy is Dazai's coworker, and therefore, is used to dealing with an Alpha who's worse than wet bread. "I'm not like that irresponsible dumbass, don't worry."

He checks his things, makes sure to fit his phone and his wallet in his pants. He drinks the cup of lukewarm water by his desk too, because proper hydration is necessary, especially for his condition.

He moves towards the windows, unlatches it. At the height of his office, the air is thinner compared to the ground level. It also offers a good vantage view of the city.

In an attempt to clear head, he takes a moment to admire the crispness of the breeze. It only serves to remind about Dazai's insistence on skydiving the moment they've both received the pregnancy test results.

In stupid Dazai's stupid words, he wants to see if he could resist the urge to sabotage the parachute when it's such a nice, enthralling way of death. If he's successful, then he should be able to resist the urge longer. At least, until they're both eighty and they're surrounded by a group made of many tiny Dazais singing "chibi, chibi" in chorus.

His eyelids fall to a half-mast as he remembers that crazy 'date', especially since 'skydiving' is actually more like being in a mission where the mafia cooperates with the agency. And they're aboard a plane full of bombs, countdown ticking to a massive explosion, only one set of parachutes and surrounded by seawater all around.

"The idiots who kidnapped shitty Dazai," voice gruff, "they're confirmed to be in that building?" He jabs his thumb in the direction of a new seafront hotel tower.

He doesn't listen to the full sentence, already leaping out the window the moment he hears the first syllable of affirmation from Blond Glasses.

...Maybe he isn't so calm, after all.