Title: So Let Me
Author:
Vianna Orchidia
Fandom: Bungou Stray Dogs
Character: Dazai Osamu, Nakahara Chuuya, Oda Sanosuke, Sakaguchi Ango
Rating: T
Genre: ???
Disclaimer: Bungou Stray Dogs is property of Asagiri Kafka and Harukawa
Sango. I do not own the series and the characters, and I do not
gain any profit from this fanfiction
Warning: Dazai-centric, mention of torture. Repost from my AO3.
"People Feel Fortunate Looking at the Tragedy of Others"
"I Will Strip and Rest My Head on Your Lap"
A shrill scream broke the tranquility of night. Dazai did not even
try to hide the sneer on his face as he gazed at the pitiful man, bound
and blindfolded, his fingers being cracked one by one by Dazai's
underlings. Dazai watched quietly how the man panted harshly, his body
trembling as the Mafia goons let him absorb the pain.
“So,” he started with a cheerful voice, “are you going to tell me who hired you?”
“F-fuck you, Mafia dogs!”
Dazai
raised an eyebrow. He clicked his tongue and signaled his men to break
another couple of fingers. “Wrong answer~” The man shrieked in agony
again. “Come on, I don't want to hurt you any more than this, so why
don't you just sing for me already?”
The bound man, someone with
his own share of torture experience under his sleeve, found strength to
laugh hoarsely at the young executive. “This is nothing, boy. Soon
you'll run out of fingers to break, and you won't get a fucking
information from me!”
“Oh?” Dazai's smile broadened if only a fraction. “I must admit you're a brave man, but...”
Silence
dropped for a second as Dazai trailed off. His men gulped visibly at
how their executive suddenly emanated enough malicious intent befitting
his title as the Demon Prodigy of Mafia. And then Dazai continued,
“Did you think this is the worst treatment you can receive?”
Dazai
Osamu. Youngest Mafia Executive in History, Demon Prodigy, wielder of
the Ability No Longer Human. The brainy half of the most powerful duo of
Port Mafia, Double Black. A young man feared by his enemies and his
allies alike. A boy who had barely turned a man with no sense of
sympathy, just cold calculations.
Today, he finished another
difficult mission, adding to the river-long list of his successful
missions. As he exited the interrogation room—he knew the larger portion
of Port Mafia members dubbed it as the torture room—he noticed his
partner, the brawny half of Double Black, was leaning on the opposite
wall with arms folded in front of his chest.
“Did you get anything out of him?” Nakahara Chuuya asked, though the look in his eyes revealed that he already knew the answer.
“Why, Chuuya, it's bad habit to ask something you already know the answer of!”
That reply apparently made Chuuya tick, just as Dazai expected. Easy,
too easy.
“Haa? I'm just trying to be civil!” the redhead snarled. “We worked
hard to bring that guy in, so I want to make sure you do your job
properly!”
“I always do my job properly. And it's just Chuuya who
worked too hard.” Dazai shrugged flippantly and turned to leave. Out of
habit, the smaller man also turned around, his stomps following him
closely.
“That's because you conveniently
forgot to tell me there was another squad in wait, asshole!”
“No, I didn't forget. I like to watch Chuuya working for my part too, that's all~”
“What the fuck.”
Chuuya
continued to grumble and threw more complaints to him as they walked
down the hallway. He entertained the redhead with cheerful replies that
were just enough to keep him talking animatedly, though most of them
were filled with ridiculous insults, until they reached the office of
Mori Ogai, boss of Port Mafia. Dazai teased his partner one last time
before he knocked on the door, ready to report.
“Go straight home, Chuuya, or the police will mistake you as an underage roaming around at night~”
“Fuck you, Dazai.”
When
he finished the report and left the room, though, he couldn't find the
small redhead anywhere in the base. A quick look at his phone told him
that Chuuya had indeed headed home and was now safe behind the walls of
his room. Dazai let a chuckle slip through his lips. He pocketed the
phone again and walked swiftly, this time to one hidden bar in downtown.
Dazai
Osamu was many things in one person, but 'a friend' was widely believed
as non-existent among the list. He would prove this wrong time and time
again, however, especially as he sipped a glass of clear whiskey in
this bar, sandwiched between his two friends. A dark-haired man in
glasses and a rough-looking red-haired man. Both did not have a
reputation such as his, but they were people he actually cared about.
“I heard you brought in another man,” Sakaguchi Ango commented off-handedly to him. “How many people does it make this month?”
“Nine.
The boss is getting impatient.” Of course Mori did not appear impatient
at all during his report earlier, but his eyes could see what other
people could not. He did not understand the need to get impatient. For
him, the gears of this particular case was unfolding at a good rate, the
perfect speed which he could enjoy the most. He learned the art of
predictions from Mori, but it seemed like he had beaten the Mafia Boss
in his own game. Dazai took another sip from his glass.
“Hmm,” Oda Sakunosuke, the redhead on his right, muttered. “Was it the man you brought after getting ambushed in the site?”
“Yes.”
Ango eyed him curiously. “You look awfully calm. Was there no casualties?”
“Well, Chuuya got wounded pretty bad, but I've sent him home and put some medicines in his coat pocket, so he should be okay.”
Odasaku
chuckled. “Playing shepherd and shepherd dog again, Dazai?” Both of his
friends had heard about the infamous Double Black's teamwork from Dazai
himself, and they very much understood how the young mafia liked to let
Nakahara Chuuya handle all the fights. It's not the first, most
definitely not the last time, Dazai casually informed them how his
partner got hurt in the process.
“Did he get his wounds treated
properly?” It was not the first time either, that one of them would ask
about Chuuya's wellbeing in concern.
“He may not look like it, but
that shorty is as resilient as a cockroach. He'll be fine,” Dazai threw
a carefree smile at them. What he didn't say, what his friends could
still hear from closed lips, was a simple--
he can still function as my pawn.
.
.
.
additional ending
.
.
.
Dazai
Osamu did not feel any sympathy. He was full of cold calculations. And
yet here he was, picking on the lock of Nakahara Chuuya's front door. As
he swung the door open and stepped into the small room, filled with the
scent of antiseptic, he replayed Odasaku's sentence in his head.
“
Why don't you show some goodwill for a change? Even a shepherd dog needs to be pampered once in a while to keep it loyal.”
He
didn't really want to admit it, but Odasaku was right. Just a couple of
medicines were not enough. He needed to take care of his pawn properly,
that's why he came to this room. Certainly not to watch the rise and
fall of Chuuya's chest under his blanket, not to gaze at the smooth line
of his jaw, not to trace the curls of his red hair,
no. Dazai ignored the subtle ache deep in his chest.
What a farce.
On
second thought, this was unnecessary at all—a pawn would always be a
pawn even without any visible effort to ensure his loyalty. He let out a
sigh before tracing back his steps to the front door. Dazai knew Chuuya
would never betray him, would never betray the Mafia. He could
calculate all the factors in his personality and found no possibility of
the redhead's treason. Afterall, Chuuya was the only one who could
stand face to face to him without whimpering in fear, without donning a
fake smile.
Dazai let the door shut close with a click.
