Mori taking over as the new leader of the Port Mafia was generally accepted, despite how suspicious it was. People recognized that the previous boss was to blood thirsty, cared merely for spreading violence and hate, and that he simply wasn't suited to the job. Mori, on the other hand, after a mere two months of leadership was getting the mafia toward healing, letting the workers whom had been worked to the bone rest easy as bonds between political and company figures were reestablished by him, bringing a sense of peace over the group.
But not everyone was pleased. Some of the previous bosses supporters tended to be more volatile, and Dazai had suspected one of them was planning something against Mori, a man specifically by the name of Takashi Hajime, a man in his mid forties with a penchant for making fraudulent purchases at the nearby brothels on the Port Mafia's dime. The previous had been so caught up in his reign of violence he hadn't even realized one of his supervisors was stealing right from under him- a ballsy move, really- so for years he'd gotten away with it.
Mori, however, was not keen on letting this continue. So, those are the reason which led up to the mans plan to wipe out someone high ranked. An executive, Mori, or... Mori's witness. After all, what could he do with his witness to testify the legitimacy of the hand-me-down title?
So, that led to this tuesday, the 23rd of January, an incredibly cold day, wet cloudy day. Dazai could see his breath as he hobbled forward on his crutches, the leathery pads that sat beneath his armpits jabbing upwards further bruising them. He was passing through the basement hall, a place he'd spent many a days, flickering fluorescent lights above as he hobbled with purpose.
He was about ninety percent sure there was a bomb somewhere down here, he was being targeted after all, and it was well known this is often where he was, constantly being treated from self inflicted wounds.
He turned left, traveling down an even thinner hall, doors that led to little hospital rooms on either side of him, coming face to face with the end of the hall. He signed, leaning himself and one of his crutches against the wall, fishing through his oversized jack for his phone.
Was the bomb motion activated? Trip wired? Sensitive to sound? Would he press the button of the elevator and be blown to smithereens? Not his ideal death, but quite frankly he was willing to settle for it, on the basis that it was painful.
He grabbed his phone finally, finding it in his right pocket, and flipped it open, searching his contacts -meager, only Mori, Kouyou, and a few other high ranking members.
His thumb slid over the pad to select Mori's contact, and heard a soft click.
Oh.
That's simple. It's a timer.
The noise that erupted from below him and at his back was so loud his ears felt like they'd been hit full force with a bat, ringing and thudding with a dull, deep pain. The floor beneath him hand opened up so easily, bursting upwards as he fell downwards.
His vision and mind simultaneously short circuited for a moment.
When he regained proper consciousness, it felt like he was being crushed, he felt his arm wedged between to chunks of concrete, feeling absolutely broken in multiple, multiple places. There was a slab of concrete long enough it felt to be covering his entire body minus he head, and his other hand that wasn't crushed between rocks was pressed uselessly beneath his of body.
Breathing was a struggle, heaving even the smallest breath was a challenge beyond any he'd ever face, to be crushed from above, chest first to the floor was certainly not the most comfortable of experiences, so claustrophobic, oppressive to be surround so thoroughly by something ones mind knew very well did not at all belong there made him dizzy.
Dragging in a short, raspy breath, forehead pressed to the dust covered ground beneath him, he attempted to build the courage to wriggle, there was a slight possibility he could find a way to wriggle at least partially out from beneath the concrete with skinning himself?
He sucked in a dusty, shallow breath, and shifted his hips slightly, and immediately regretted it.
Something... That does not belong is in me...
His lower back, nearer to the right, where he had his back to the second explosion, was something lodged, sharp and very metallic feeling.
This... Was something he would have to rely on Mori to handle. As much disdain as it brought him to depend on the man, he, in this situation, had no other option as to how to escape this situation.
So, he slumped forward, cheek resting uncomfortable on the floor, little pieces of debris jabbing into his face as he allowed his eyes to slip closed. He coughed.
Yeah, this one was definitely a Mori problem.
