The Wild Geese || DAZAI OSAMU/CHUUYA NAKAHARA

[二十七] THE DESIRE TO BE SAVED.

They give you a bomb. That was essentially what it was—a home-made bomb, made with untraceable scrap material. It was small but heavy, and you shove it in your coat pocket and nod at Kasumi.

"The plan is to detonate the bomb to attract subordinates. Then, you take them all out. The Agency will intervene and capture the successor and bring her to safety."

"We don't kill her?" You ask, incredulously.

"I think she gets a chance to live after being experimented on," Dazai says. You nod.

"Right. Guide her to the right path."

"Exactly," Dazai says. "The bomb, although small, is lethal. It'll detonate a large portion of the HQ. That'll draw press, which will expose the human experimentation scheme of the Port Mafia. That will lead protests against the government to take place."

"How do we know they'll protest?" You ask, crossing your arms over your chest. You were always so suspicious of people and of their nature, having experienced the worst facet of human nature. Dazai smirks, holding up his phone.

"Because the Agency already has started rumours about it. People are already beginning to form protest groups over twitter and forums."

You whistle. "You planted the seeds."

"Yep. Now we reap."

You walk back to the Port Mafia HQ with determination in your footsteps. You were determined to, for the first time in your miserable, wretched life, to do something good. Something that would benefit other people, and not just Mori. Determination darkened your eyes, the blackest of (eye colour) hues, staring pointedly at the front of the Port Mafia.

"Yo," A voice calls. You turn to your left, the bomb transferred to the inner pocket of your coat. March winds are being rejected by the warmth of your coat, instead wafting over you like a stream to a stone. A flash of ginger. Chuuya resting on the side of his shiny pink motorcycle. "Where've you been?"

"Smoke break," You lie. "What are you doing outside?"

"You have designated locations for smoke breaks? You have to let me know; we could smoke together," He says with a proud smirk. He pats his motorcycle. "And to answer your question, I just came back from a mission.

Your heart sours at the thought of having to betray your one companion in the Port Mafia. Even if you two weren't close, he was still fond of you, and he had been the first person to accept your sordid confessions without punching you in the nose. You breathe in, hold the breath in, and breathe out.

"What was the mission about?" You casually say, walking through the glass doors of the Port Mafia front.

"Just get rid of vermin," Chuuya offhandedly says. "Easy job."

"Must have been, knowing you can control everything's gravity," You say. "You're dangerous. You're a dangerous man."

"And you, a dangerous woman," He rebuts. "Are you kidding me? You're the definition of dangerous. You're the Underground's symbol for danger."

You wince at that. "Not something to be proud about anymore."

"Really?"

"My reputation precedes my identity. You know how confusing it gets?" You say, pressing the lift button. Rooftop. Something akin to adrenaline begins to pump in your veins. "Y'know, knowing you..." You take a deep breath again. "You're my only companion here. You know that, right?"

"Am I?" He says, looking rather smug of himself.

"You are," You say. "I never thought I'd have someone...well, a friend." You admit, cautiously. This is your first time opening up to someone. The bomb in your coat must have released some tension in your heart chambers, because you're confessing like a nervous schoolgirl. "It's been nice."