l'appel du vide » [soukoku]

make-up mist

 " I kept my melancholy and my agitation hidden, careful lest any trace should be left exposed. I feigned an innocent optimism; I gradually perfected myself in the role of the farcical eccentric. "
                  - Dazai Osamu,
"No Longer Human"

   The wine bottle in Chuuya's hand wasn't at all that good, especially when all he thought about was one bottle in particular. An expensive Syrah he got as a payment just before Dazai left, one they planned to open together or so they discussed the last time he saved him from Corruption.

   Wasn't it fate? To get a grasp of it before his best friend changed sides and then, later to make that deal with him - the thought crossed his mind every now and then.

  And he didn't believe in fate. He only believed in his own worrisome nature - towards the few ones he cared about, coincidences and of course, human nature.

   In their core humans were egomaniacs. He included. Selfish little creatures, small-hearted and narrow-minded and Chuuya had every right and reason to be angry.

   Wheter it was being an orphan, a street rat, the betreyal of the other children, being used by them... The redhead had reasons plenty, to be bitter and salty, to have that wine in his hands, yet he sat calmly on the edge of the bridge, only a few cars passing him now and then.
  It was finally the quiet he longed for. The small hours in the am when no one moved. No one called him. No one followed him. Like the damn Kotanegawa who sent chills down his spine.

  The threat that child-man made week ago was still echoing in the halls of his mind, emptied by the wine. There were faint ghosts of worries in it, transparent and quiet but the words Rill said were as real as they could be.

  Chuuya turned slowly and jumped on the concreate heading back to the Mafia's building. His arms swung back and forth, empty bottle in the left one. The right one fiddled with the keys in his pocket, then started throwing them up and down.

  He had a bad gut feeling. The young male started murmuring to himself, ranting how annoyed he was and how tired. Because of the alcohol his legs felt heavy as he walked down the well lit road, finding comfort in the dark spots between street lamps.

  His blurred peace was soon enough broken down when he arrived at the skyscraper the Port Mafia resided in. In front of the building, despite the ungoldly hour, were some of the members of the Detective Agency. Upon a closer look Chuuya was sure it was all of them, actually.

  Akutagawa, Mori and Koyo were out too, a few of the lower ranked members staying behind as if waiting for the brawl to begin. It was the only logical thing in the picture - they were closer to the ADA, but what was happening was beyond him.

  The redhead approached with caution and Atsushi who was trying to avoid arguing with Akutagawa, snapped his head in Chuuya's way and squinted.

- Are you... drunk?

- Are you suicidal? - Chuuya replied bringing the wine to his lips.

  Someone's experated sigh and another's audible groan can be heard and he smelled Koyo when she approached. She never changed her perfume - strong and heavy, like her presence. Just enough so you could puke.

  Her hand gently touched the male's motioning him to lower the bottle.
- What are the chances you were with Dazai earlier today?

- Zero. What would I do with a traitor?

- There is no need to hide how close you two were before he left the mafia and even afterwards. Such partnership can't just be buried. - Someone murmured, yet Chuuya didn't even look around.

- Depends. Has the suicidal maniac signed up his will? Cause as far as I know he preffered to be cremated and that's this on our "partnership".

  Atsushi's fair eyebrows shot up almost the same moment Akutagawa's shot down, as if they were the two sides of a coin. Too alike to like each other and too different to not work well together. In them, for a second, the executor saw the old Sokoku and this once again brought the bottle to his lips.

- What'd the moron did now? - He asked, a heavy slur blurring his words into one.

  Tanizaki, the boy with the illusions as far as he remembered, visibally tensed up when Kunikida stepped forward towards Chuuya. And without realizing it the drunken young adult did the same, straightening his posture and shoulders.
 
  As if both Kunikida and Chuuya found something deserving of authority, of caution, in the other and the need to rebel against it. Yet his voice was calm and sharp - matching the look in his eyes, but not the line in his jaw, the way he clenched it.
- Dazai has gone missing.

- You sure you weren't the ones to kidnap him?

A girl clinging on Tanizaki's arm spoke up. Her hair was a dark waterfall when her head jumped, her body, as if she talked with it whole.

- Why would we need-

- Weren't you the ex-partner of Dazai that beat him up? Had swore to kill him? - Akutagawa was cut off by Atsushi, glaring at the Tiger while he glared at Chuuya.

- To hell with it.. - he murmered instead of a reply.

  Yet the redhead's eyes were chasing shadows around. Looking at the people surrounding. Gin and the generals were following the conversation, standing at the ready.  But ready looked Tanizaki too, his illusions could mess their whole pace up. Chuuya shook his head, he was getting ready for a battle where there should be none. He ran a hand across his face.

  Mori seemed to notice his change of expression and nodded in approval. So did Koyo. The Tiger kept staring at him, unblinking, the wild cat just behind the facade of the man - right now it was close enough to the surface to startle even Chuuya.

- Akutagawa?

- Wasn't me. I have not recieved such orders. - The boy defended shrugging his shoulders. - I wish though.

  Kyoka glared at her ex-colegue but he didn't budge. And doctor Mori had to take initiative in the conversation with a sigh.

- I can't let you inside and you know it. You look ready to take up the suicidal mission of storming in the building but we all know Yokohama can't survive a war between the two biggest ability-user agencies in the city.
  We have nothing to do with Dazai's dissapearance. If one of my subordinates acted on their's own account I would make sure to question and punish them accordingly.
  The Port Mafia would help you find him.

- You will?

- Dazai is way too smart and knows a bit too much for me sit in comfort in case he is in the wrong hands.

  The doctor's tone of voice bore no bloodlust or violence, no anger. Just a cold, brutal finality that could chill an enemy to the core.

  And Chuuya could feel a chill in his core. But it wasn't fear or worry. It was the realization that he was ready to do whatever it took to get Dazai back. The other have saved him one too many times and occupied his thoughts too frequently for Chuuya to sit back now when Dazai was in danger.