Bound by Obsession

Part 3

The next morning, the Armed Detective Agency was already buzzing with activity. The urgency in the air was palpable—Fukuzawa had received intel that the Decay of Angels were planning a major move, and it involved Fyodor Dostoevsky. Even after the unease that lingered over the Agency about Dazai's past, there was no time to waste. A mission was underway, and they needed everyone.

Dazai stood near the window, his gaze unfocused as he listened to the plan. He was officially "on leave," but Fukuzawa had made an exception, allowing Dazai to join since the mission specifically involved Fyodor—a person only Dazai truly understood.

Kunikida was explaining the mission, his eyes not meeting Dazai's for long. "We have intelligence indicating that Fyodor is hiding in an abandoned industrial complex on the outskirts of the city," Kunikida said, his voice firm. "We'll be working with an unexpected ally today—the Port Mafia."

The door to the office swung open, and there stood Chuuya Nakahara, his face a mix of irritation and determination. His eyes flicked over to Dazai, narrowing slightly before he scoffed. "Dazai," he muttered. "I heard you couldn't keep yourself out of trouble as usual."

Dazai smiled, his usual playful demeanor reemerging. "Chuuya, my dear partner, I knew you'd come running back to me eventually."

Chuuya scowled. "Don't flatter yourself, bastard. I'm just here to take down Fyodor, not play babysitter for you."

Atsushi looked between them, unsure of how to break the tension. "We should focus," he said. "The Decay of Angels is a serious threat. We need everyone on the same page if we're going to stop Fyodor."

Chuuya crossed his arms, his eyes still locked on Dazai. "Don't get in my way, Dazai. This isn't the time for your usual games."

Dazai gave a small, almost tired smile. "Wouldn't dream of it, Chuuya. Let's just get this over with."

The industrial complex was a labyrinth of decaying metal and rusted machinery, the air thick with the scent of oil and grime. The team split up, moving cautiously through the maze of corridors. Atsushi, Chuuya, and Dazai were tasked with investigating the main section, where Fyodor was rumored to be.

Chuuya kept his eyes on Dazai the entire time, a mix of irritation and concern in his gaze. Dazai was quieter than usual, his steps almost aimless as they moved through the building. Something about him seemed off, and it made Chuuya uneasy.

"Oi, Dazai," Chuuya snapped, his voice echoing in the empty corridor. "Stop spacing out. You're gonna get yourself killed if you don't pay attention."

Dazai glanced over at Chuuya, his smile faint. "Aw, Chuuya, I didn't know you cared."

Chuuya's brow furrowed, his frustration bubbling up. "This isn't a joke, Dazai. Fyodor isn't someone you can mess around with."

Atsushi looked back at the two, tension clear in his posture. "Chuuya-san's right. We need to focus if we're going to find Fyodor."

Dazai nodded, but his mind was somewhere else. Fyodor had been clear during their last meeting—he wouldn't let Dazai go. The words had lingered in his mind, creating an uneasy feeling that Dazai couldn't shake.

They moved deeper into the complex, the air growing colder as they approached the main chamber. Dazai could feel something—a presence, a familiarity that sent a shiver down his spine. He knew Fyodor was here, watching, waiting.

Suddenly, the lights flickered, and the next moment, the entire area plunged into darkness.

"Damn it!" Chuuya cursed, activating his ability to illuminate the space around them with a faint red glow. "This has to be Fyodor's doing."

Atsushi's eyes turned to Dazai, but Dazai wasn't there. His heart skipped a beat, panic setting in. "Dazai-san?" he called out, his voice echoing.

Chuuya's head snapped around, his gaze scanning the area. "Where the hell did that idiot go?!"

Dazai hadn't even realized what was happening until it was too late. One moment, he was standing with Chuuya and Atsushi, and the next, everything had gone black. He felt a hand grab his arm, pulling him back, a faint whisper reaching his ears before everything went still.

When Dazai came to, he found himself in a dimly lit room, the scent of dust and old books filling the air. He blinked, his eyes adjusting to the gloom, and his heart sank when he saw who was standing in front of him.

Fyodor.

The Russian's smile was calm, his eyes soft as they looked down at Dazai, who was now bound to a chair. "Good morning, Osamu," Fyodor said, his voice almost affectionate. "I've been waiting for this."