𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝙿𝚛𝚒𝚌𝚎 𝙾𝚏 𝙵𝚛𝚎𝚎𝚍𝚘𝚖 (ENG. VERSION)

0. The Price Of Your Sins.

6 years before:
Port Mafia Headquartes.

"I've had enough."

All that it took to make Dazai motionless on the spot was a phrase: a simple, stupid, phrase composed by three words. A phrase that he heard many, too many times, make it way out from his partner's mouth, between barks and growls, when he wanted to have the last word in an argument where clearly he couldn't win. It wasn't obviously the first time that the two of them had a bickering, even all the Port Mafia knew how it worked between them: essentially it was a pretty normal situation, which Dazai was used to it very well.

But-

"What have you just said? I might heard wrong, right? Yes, that certainly must be the case." The brunette tapped his right ear lightly with the tip of his forefinger. "Unfortunately Chuuya, it's not your fault if your slug-like height  prevents your vocal cords from exerting the necessary force to get your words to my ears."

"Stop fucking around, Dazai." the tone of redhead was sharp and cold as a razor blade, same thing for his gaze, which at that moment seemed to communicate only one thought: I'm fucking serious. "We both know that you understood perfectly well what I've just said."

"Chuuya you can't-" Dazai dared to take a step forward but he was stopped instantly: the sole of his shoe had managed to rest only the underlying rise of the heel on the ground before being stopped by a small crater, big as the size of a tennis ball and no deeper than a few centimeters from the ground, formed at that precise moment. For a second Dazai thought that the crater was an extremely lively addition to the pavement, but he didn't said it aloud.

"I've had enough: I'm going to leave the Port Mafia and with it, everything related to this organization."

The power of words was truly something extremely frightening, Dazai knew this very well: not surprisingly, he was called the 'Demon Podigy' not only thanks to his intellectual abilities capable of alerting even the most cunning opponents but also thanks to his frightening communication skills, capable of manipulating reality and lies as if they were the same concept and, last but not least, to his ability to analyze the surroundings with a particular meticulousness, similar to a computer processor. Ready to foresee different scenarios along with impeccable solutions.

Apparently Chuuya had managed to create a flaw, an uncalculated error, unpredictable even for the fearsome prodigy Dazai Osamu, now silent, motionless, as if his brain was doing a quick reboot of the system, trying in every way to find a solution for this annoying bug. Dazai unleashed a sharp glare, equal to that of the shortie in front of him.

"Chuuya, are you sure you're not on some acid?" in contradiction of his eyes, or rather, of his visible eye, not hidden by the bandages, his tone of voice had remained the same: nonchalant and light-hearted. "If you had a clear mind right now, even someone like you would realize that what you've just said could, inevitably, be one of the most absurd things that ever came out of your mouth, isn't that right?"

Red and shiny eyes, smells out of place, repressed tremors-... Dazai was scrutinizing carefully, almost maniacally, for signs, even the slightest hints, that could prove his theory.

Because as always he would have found the solution, as always the situation would have turned out as he planned and as always he would have once again proved his infallibility.

Chuuya's expression had remained the same, far too impassive and firm to result in a wavering state: alert eyes, ready to attack at the first false step that the other could make. It was the same look that the boy reserved for those poor unfortunate souls who happened to be his enemies, especially those who committed major and heavy atrocities, almost at the limit of human capabilities, capable of sickening even an average rank member of the the Port Mafia like Chuuya.