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

Spring

Tw/Tags: Port Mafia Dazai Osamu, King of Sheep Nakahara Chuuya, Non-Traditional Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alpha Dazai Osamu, Omega Nakahara Chuuya, Mating Cycles/In Heat,Knotting, Biting, Possessive
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He moves a little too cautiously, like the clothes that he's wearing doesn't sit on his shoulders and the nook of his elbows very well. Something itches under his skin, a feeling that he's experienced in small doses over the years. It's so much worse today, for some reason.

As one of the Five Executives, nobody has an authority over him aside from the Boss. Even then, Boss is too busy being in his bed, fed medicine for his sudden bursts of mania. It's kept under wraps, for this is surely a sign of Port Mafia's decline. He has no plans of dealing with a Boss that spits saliva everywhere, nor does he plan to stay in the top floor that is reeking with medicine.

And so, he leaves the headquarters, hands in his pockets. Winter has just ended, snow melted entirely to give way to the flowering buds of spring. It's rather cold at this hour, sunrise not even ten full minutes ago. Workload with the mafia is often relegated to nighttime, in order to take advantage of the shadows offered by the night.

The mafia has a tacit agreement with the government—they both look the other way on each other's endeavors, and a fragile balance is maintained throughout the city. Nonetheless, it doesn't mean that they could just brazenly do a lot of their bigger deals out in broad daylight. A sense of propriety, which is very laughable, considering their lawless activities.

He doesn't find cause for laughter there. Heat stings under his skin, despite the cold weather. His expression remains frosty as he decides where to go from here. He's someone who exists in this world without great ambition, unless one counts his desire to die a cheerful, painless death. He's also someone who looks at each day and sees various plans—he's not the type to do something completely spontaneous.

But today, for some reason, he decides to do something completely out of his own plans.

Aside from his prized mind, the main reason behind his skyrocket ascension amongst the mafia ranks is his nullification Ability that's second to none in the whole world. And that, in turn, is due to the fact that he's been experimented on during his youth.

The things that he has gained during his stay in that sterile government facility—an increased potency in his power, the idea that humans could be such terrible, unfeeling things, the thought that the world really is quite banal and death should be the most exciting part of it all—are many. Amongst said things that he has gained, is what he could only call as a 'secondary gender presentation'. It's not something that has a lot of surviving documentation on. A few years back, the experiments have been halted due to an explosion on its main facility, and it had wiped out a lot of the data.

His mind is enough to bridge the gaps in knowledge. His position at the Port Mafia means that he has access to the more confidential documents. He pursues the information with the detachment of someone who isn't being personally affected by these changes to his body. His interest level is mild—he wants to know about it because it's extra information, but it isn't something that he's going to risk losing sleep over.

Today, he thinks of going to that long-gone facility in Suribachi Island. The itch worsens the closer he gets to the island, as if there's something that's pulling underneath his blood vessels, plucking them with each step he takes.

With the way buildings are clustered together in the island, it's easy to slip through the streets while keeping to the shadowed areas. It's like the underworld in a dense scale—it quiets down as the sun continues to rise, its inhabitants retreating into the shanties as if burnt by the signs of light.