Drowning in the swamp of memories

Missing Allies

The ADA office was unusually silent, save for the hum of rain pattering against the windows and the faint ticking of the clock on the wall. Tension hung thick in the air, but my mind was preoccupied with one thing—Kenji. He hadn’t shown up since yesterday, and worry twisted my stomach into knots. The usual warmth in the room felt replaced by a cold, oppressive atmosphere, shadows cast by the dim gray light outside. Refusing to eat or drink until we found him, I could feel my patience wearing thin with every ticking second.

Suddenly, Kunikida burst into the room, a newspaper clutched in his hand. He spread it out on the table, revealing a headline that read: “Entire Building Mysteriously Vanishes.”

“The Guild’s making its move,” he said grimly. “This…this must be their doing. A warning, perhaps.”

“Blackmailing us, huh?” Dazai’s tone was casual, almost amused. He leaned back, hands folded behind his head, unfazed. “How…interesting.”

My fists clenched, the frustration boiling over. “Interesting?” I spat, my voice laced with fury. I shot a look at Kunikida and Rampo, both of whom sensed my intent and tried to step in front of me. But I shook them off effortlessly, letting Kunikida stumble to the ground as I stormed toward the door.

“I’ll go straight to Francis and wipe that smug smile off his face,” I muttered.

Kunikida, struggling to his feet, called after me, “Mizuki, don’t be rash! We need a plan—”

But I was beyond listening. The anger was a fire that blazed too brightly to be extinguished by mere words. Just as I reached the door, Dazai stepped into my path, his face oddly serious. I raised my hand, ready to shove him aside, but he caught my wrist in an unyielding grip. His hold was firm, stronger than I’d ever felt from him, pinning me in place.

“Move, Dazai,” I snarled, but he remained silent, his eyes calculating and cold. I tried to kick him with my free leg, but he anticipated it, catching my leg in a tight hold as well. His grip was ironclad, every inch of his usually playful demeanor replaced by an intense focus.

“Listen, Mizuki-chan,” he said, his voice as calm as ever, but his words were edged with something sharper. “What exactly are you planning to do if you get to him? Cry for Kenji?” He tilted his head, a mocking smile curling at the edge of his lips. “Without your Red Lotus, you’re nothing.”

The words hit me harder than I expected. In a split second, I could feel the words rushing out before I could think, “I’ll use—” I caught myself, freezing as the familiar dread crept up my spine. I had almost said it—almost admitted to using blood manipulation, the technique that haunted me like a nightmare.

Dazai’s expression shifted, his eyes gleaming with a glint of wicked humor as he said, “That reminds me, Mizuki-chan. You still haven’t explained your ability to the ADA.” His voice was too casual, too knowing, as if he was pulling on a string I’d tried to keep buried.

I went silent, staring at the floor, unable to meet his gaze. The memories of Gran-Gran, of the day I lost her, resurfaced, swirling in the back of my mind. It was a subject I’d avoided for so long that I almost forgot how easily it could break me.

Kunikida stepped forward, his gaze curious but tinged with something softer, a question he’d never dared to ask until now. “Mizuki…you haven’t told us the truth about your ability. What is it, really?”

Before I could respond, Rampo’s hand was on my shoulder. He guided me away from the others, leading me into a quieter room, his usual carefree smile offering a strange sense of comfort. He handed me a bottle of water, then leaned against the wall, watching me with a serious expression I rarely saw from him.