Back to square 1 : A Soukoku married au

DAY 2

hey guys its chapter 2 and we are getting to the thriller part plz support and enjoy~
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Dazai Osamu sat in the dimly lit living room of their shared apartment, the silence broken only by the faint rustling of the wind against the windows. In his hand, a framed photo—the one from their wedding day—shook slightly as his grip tightened. Chuuya's bright smile, forever captured under the blooming sakura trees, mocked him in the stillness. His other hand hovered over the edge of the frame, brushing against the glass where Chuuya's face smiled back at him, so alive, so full of energy.

But now, Chuuya wasn't there. And every second that passed felt like it was ripping another piece of Dazai apart.

His chest felt heavy as if a weight was pressing down on him, threatening to crush him under its force. "Chuuya..." he whispered, his voice hoarse, cracking under the pressure of his emotions. It had been over 24 hours, and the silence that hung between them was deafening. No call. No messages. Just a void where his partner, his husband, should have been.

The photo blurred as his vision clouded with unshed tears. Dazai blinked them away angrily. He wasn't someone who cried. He wasn't weak. But the image of Chuuya's face, the thought of him out there somewhere, alone—hurt or worse—was a torment he couldn't push away. The scenarios his mind conjured were enough to make even him falter.

A quiet sob escaped his throat, barely audible, as he clutched the picture tighter. "What if I never find you?" The thought gnawed at him, crawling its way up from the darkest corners of his mind. 

He was spiraling, sinking deeper into despair. And yet, he couldn't let himself drown in it. Not now.

His hands shook as he finally lowered the photo, his eyes hardening with a dangerous glint. He couldn't afford this weakness—not when Chuuya needed him. Not when every second was crucial. Dazai wiped his face roughly, pushing the tears aside, forcing himself back to the present.

Enough. He stood, his movements sudden and sharp, filled with determination. "I will find you," he whispered, voice thick with resolve. "I swear it." With one last look at the photo, Dazai set it down carefully before storming out of the apartment, his mind focused on one goal: bringing Chuuya back.

Across town, in the last place Chuuya was seen, Ranpo Edogawa crouched low, his sharp eyes scanning every inch of the dark alleyway. The air here was thick with tension, and though it was still, something about the scene unsettled him. Ane-san stood a few feet behind him, her arms crossed as she watched Ranpo work. Poe was close by, scribbling notes into his notebook, his brow furrowed in concentration.

"Ranpo," Ane-san said, her voice clipped but calm, "What do you see?"

Ranpo didn't answer immediately. His fingers brushed lightly over the ground, tracing invisible patterns only he could see. His eyes flickered, taking in every minor detail—the scuff marks on the pavement, the faint scent of gunpowder in the air, the distance between the walls. "It's too clean," he muttered finally, standing and dusting off his hands. "Chuuya's not someone who would go quietly. If there was a fight, there'd be more evidence." His gaze moved to the shadows lingering at the mouth of the alley. "Whoever did this was prepared. They knew exactly how to take him down."

Ane-san frowned. "And?"

"And," Ranpo continued, "This wasn't random. Whoever took Chuuya wasn't just looking for any Port Mafia executive. They wanted him specifically. And they knew how to neutralize him."Poe approached, holding up his notebook. "I pulled surveillance footage from the cameras nearby. Look at this," he said, showing the grainy footage on his screen. Figures cloaked in black moved through the shadows, just moments after Chuuya disappeared.