ANGEL'S ASHES, bungou stray dogs [on hold]

v. four hellish years

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𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐄𝐋'𝐒 𝐀𝐒𝐇𝐄𝐒

𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘱𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘧𝘪𝘷𝘦: 𝘧𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘩𝘦𝘭𝘭𝘪𝘴𝘩 𝘺𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘴

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𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞

     AFTER DAZAI LEFT A few years back, Angel has had no one to rein her in and stop her from killing anyone — and Chūya has been unable to use his trump card without slaughtering the entire planet, which has left him more pissed than she's ever seen the male in all the years she's known him. He's become unhinged and even she finds it hard to control him some days, but she very rarely feels as though there's any need to control someone as deadly and self-motivated as Chūya Nakahara. In all honesty, he's the one that's had to control Angel to the best of his ability despite how easy it is for him to get caught up in the destruction her Ability — and her just on her own — can cause.

     Despite her newfound status as an Executive, which she received thanks to Chūya, and Kōyō Ozaki, another Executive, the lower-ranked members of the Port Mafia didn't exactly care to listen when their boss informed them about it. Angel still ended up on the receiving end of many a beating, but it never lasted long now that she had the right to teach them not to fuck with her. Well, there's that and there's also the fact that Chūya has barely left her side over the past few years — not that he wasn't practically chasing after her since the first time they met on a battlefield. She supposes that, in a way, it is similar to how Angel also met Dazai for the first time.

     Right now, she's standing at the back of a "briefing" room with Chūya, listening to the somewhat lacklustre planning for the capture of the Weretiger; an Ability User who has been bought off the Market by someone from the Guild, who have then given the Port Mafia the duty of collecting him. Apparently, he's with the Armed Detective Agency, and is being mentored by the man who betrayed the Port Mafia — Osamu Dazai himself. That thought makes Angel's stomach clench and her hand latch onto Chūya's, squeezing it tightly, surprising her when he returns the comforting motion, understanding in his blue eyes.

     "Higuchi is going to be infiltrating the Agency, acting as a concerned citizen with some problem that only they can help with," Ryūnosuke informs, a somewhat bored expression on his face. "If any trouble is encountered, Angel and I will be prepared to step in and take control of the situation."

     There's an air of unease that rises from the few lower-ranked members in the room, and Angel knows that they're not certain about using an Executive for a plan that should be simple by any means. However, with Dazai being himself, there is an eighty-nine to ninety-five percent chance that he'll be quick to figure out the real reason behind Higuchi's request of the Agency. That means it is quite possible there will be a fight on their hands, and, with the blonde woman having no decent Ability of her own, and with Ryūnosuke's Ability tending to make his health worse, that means it will fall to Angel to either protect the two idiots or to catch the Weretiger myself.

     In all honesty, she feels as though she's only there to be their pathetic back-up if Ryūnosuke's plan fails — which, by her calculations, it most certainly will.

     "Don't go worrying about a minor detail," Angel huffs in exasperation, watching as their shoulders tense at her voice. "Just focus on your own damn roles in this plan. You're further back-up for Higuchi and Akutagawa, so you need to be on time for once in your fucking lives, alright? We don't need casualties on this. It's a simple mission, so, please, for your sakes, don't fuck it up."

     Ryūnosuke's lips quirk up into a slight smile at Angel's words, but he turns stone-faced once she turns her back to him and leaves the room, Chūya following behind her. There's nothing said between the pair as they make their way to her room, the orange-haired young adult not arguing with her choice of destination, only raising an eyebrow as she holds the door open and ushers him in. It's nothing fancy — a bed, a desk and chair, a few cupboards, a mini-fridge, and a sofa — but it's been her home since she accepted the role of Executive a year after it was offered. That was not long after Angel turned seventeen, which means she's been an Executive for almost three years now, with her twentieth birthday barely a week away.

     "That idiot's acting like we're friends because of our shared upbringing," Angel complains, falling onto the sofa and staring up at Chūya through her white and red hair; a new colour combination in place of her usual bland, all-white hair. "It's making me want to watch him bleed dry over a pit of molten lava, laughing at his weakening struggles and his inability to use Rashōmon to save himself, is that bad?"

     Chūya takes his coat and hat off and sits beside me on the other side of the lounge, looking at her with amusement. "Knowing your level of torture, I'd say that's not the worst you could do to that kid."

     "Bloody hell, I'm younger than him, be it by a few months at most, and here you are calling him a kid. Something you want to tell me, Mister Nakahara?"

     "Nothing at all, dear little angel."

     "Hm, you know, I hate that about my name. I can never tell if someone is simply saying my name or calling me 'angel,' but I suppose that it's always going to be that way."

     "You should know by now that I rarely call you by your name, unless it's a decently dire situation."

     Angel smiles and moves over to the older man, climbing atop his lap and linking her fingers behind his neck. Chūya simply rests his gloved hands on her waist and looks up at her, a familiar darkness brewing in those mesmerising blue eyes of his. The last time they were this close, it was because a mission went terribly wrong and she ended up with her skull fractured in several different places, two semi-broken ribs, and a fractured arm. That was close on seven or eight months ago, and the last of those — namely the fractures in Angel's skull — are still healing, which means Chūya has been doing a few missions on his own.

     That separation hasn't been the easiest on Angel, and there's something in Chūya's eyes that tell her it's had a similar effect on him. There's a possessiveness in his eyes that makes a chill run down her spine, Angel's body feeling as though it's been set alight just from sitting like this with this utterly kind man that rarely shows he's such a thing, and she wouldn't have it any other way. Only a few years ago, she never would have imagined being held like this by Chūya — or even Dazai - but both came to pass, within quick succession of each other, and if that makes her seem like a selfish and greedy person, then all she has to say is this: Angel fucking deserves to have someone that cares for her enough to hold her and make her feel like she's alive and worth being loved.

     Angel leans down and kisses him softly, hearing him let out a quiet humming sound. "You're the best thing that's ever happened to me, Chūya Nakahara, and I wouldn't change it for the world."

     Chūya actually smiles and cups her face with his right hand. "You're too kind, angel, but I can't deny that I feel the same way."

• • • • • •

Honestly, I've found that this chapter is such a fucking mess. I'm not too confident in how it's turned out...