Chapter Text
October 26, 2 am
Approx. 12km above sea level
Government-owned aircraft
The box of matches is sitting lightly in Ango's palm. He’s unsure where Dazai and Oda are right now and if they want to talk to him, but as long as they’re on the plane everything is going according to plan.
And if everything is going according to plan, there is no need to worry, right?
Ango sighs and takes off his glasses. The sign of Bar Lupin stares back at him, branded in the matchbox.
He activates his ability.
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“Actually, I’m not supposed to reveal these matters,” Ango says. “If the Ministry of Internal Affairs’ higher-ups find out about our meeting, it’ll be a big problem. For the time being, I have to disappear.”
Upon hearing this, Dazai looks at Ango, smiling. “Aiya, judging by your tone, you must still think that you’ll be able to leave this place alive, Ango.”
The air freezes over. The expression on Ango’s face quietly subsides. Dazai is still smiling.
“Isn’t that a given? A secret agency surrounded in mystery. Appearing and disappearing, an existence spoken of in rumors that makes gifted criminal organizations in the country tremble. One of its members is right before my eyes. I think the information and name lists I want you to spit out are even thicker than a dictionary, am I wrong?”
Oda cannot help but ask Dazai, “Are you planning to turn this place into a battlefield?”
Ango doesn’t move, his vaguely smiling expression frozen. His gaze aimed at Dazai looks like it’s been nailed down. “It’s my fault,” Ango says hopelessly. “I was mistaken. I selfishly believed that everyone could look past their positions and meet in this place. To avoid troubling the shop, I won’t retaliate, do as you wish.”
Oda’s brows are furrowed together.
Ango should know how ruthless the mafia’s interrogation is. He mustn’t be planning to return to the Special Ability Department alive.
If I help Ango now, how will the situation change? It won’t. And in the event I betray the mafia, the orphans in the Western restaurant will lose their lives.
“Ango.” Dazai gazes at his hands, inspecting the palms and the backs, spitting out these words. “On my command, my subordinates will surround this area. But they haven’t surrounded the area yet. Before I change my mind, get out of my sight.” Ango looks like he wants to say something, but he swallows his words anyway.
“I’m not upset. I knew this would happen from the very beginning.” Dazai says, expressionless. “Regardless of whether or not Ango is from the Special Ability Department, things that we don’t want to lose will definitely be lost. Now that it has come to this, I have no more feelings anymore. Things worth pursuing will always disappear the moment before you get them. Nothing is worth prolonging a painful life to pursue.”
Oda looks at Dazai intently. Although they have known each other for very long, this is the first time Dazai has spoken about himself. One can see something as sharp as a giant fishhook piercing and gnawing into Dazai’s life.
“Dazai, Odasaku-san, I am the same as everyone. As a member of an underground organization that I cannot disclose, as an ability user who arrests ability users, I have always buried myself in the dark corner of the government. I am a person who can never live a life walking the path of light.”
"Save it, Ango." Dazai's gaze is piercing. "No one asked for your sob story. Did you already forget? We're not friends anymore if we could ever call ourselves that."
I find myself a bit stumped. Was I ever friends with Ango, if he was never honest about who he is? Or Dazai for that matter? Dazai never seemed keen on letting anyone in, but… it seemed if anyone had gotten close it was me and Ango.
Ango and I are Dazai’s only friends.
And he’s pushing him away.
“Someday," Ango had gotten up already, his voice unsteady as he spoke. "When the time changes, when the Special Ability Department and the mafia’s structures change when we are in positions of greater freedom - can we come back here to drink?”
"That time won’t come, Ango." Oda is quick to reply. Their eyes find each other quickly, Ango's in mild surprise, he must not have expected me to say anything. "You said so yourself, that you have to disappear for a while. Who’s to say that while won't stretch along forever?"
"Odasaku-"
"Oda-san!" Ango interrupts Dazai. "Gide…I don’t know much but, he is targeting you. Because of your ability, I assume."
"That’s no news. He told me as much when we met, and I told him I won’t kill and refused to fight him."
"You don’t understand, he-" Ango tried to steady his voice, but he was clearly distressed. "He won’t stop by any means to get you to fight him. The Organization might be less stable than it used to be and savage, but they aren’t just cunning and strong, they are desperate!"
A buzz cut through the tense atmosphere in the bar. Dazai fished out his phone from a pocket of his black coat, looking at the message with an exhausted expression.
"The Port Mafia will deal with Mimic, and if you paid any attention to the Port Mafia during your stay here, you would know that they won’t pose much of a threat to us. Odasaku might be a low-ranking member, but both he and Akutagawa have been personally attacked by Mimic, they won’t get away." Dazai turns away from Ango and Oda, and heads towards the exit.
"I'm leaving. Ango, unless you suddenly start seeing the same appeal in death as me, I suggest you never show your face to me again."
The sound of the heavy door falling shut echoed through the lonely bar. Ango turned his attention back to Oda.
"I know you don’t trust me, and you don’t have to, but please listen to me."
"Ango-"
"No, you don’t understand, I want to do one good thing for you before leaving, because I had never expected to meet anyone during my mission, but you, both of you, have made my time here-"
"Ango." Oda interrupted, "Let me talk with Dazai privately, and then you can tell me." He hurriedly walked out of the bar, leaving Ango to reach after the space he preoccupied seconds before.
Oda opened the creaking door and was immediately met with cold air kissing his face. This October the temperatures took an unusually extreme drop.
Dazai hadn’t left yet. He leaned back against the wall, the earlier smile that had graced his face completely gone, replaced by a hard, almost inscrutable expression.
Oda was the one to break the silence. “You didn’t have to be that harsh on him.”
Dazai didn’t respond right away, his eyes gliding lazily over their surroundings before settling on Oda's figure standing under the flickering bar sign. When he spoke, his voice was quieter, colder than before. “He’s a government dog, Oda. Don’t forget that.”
Oda’s brow furrowed. “He’s still our friend.”
“Was,” Dazai corrected sharply, his eyes finally lifting to meet Oda’s. The coldness in his stare was striking, a glimpse of something deeper—something darker. “Whatever you thought we had, whatever friendship you think existed—it’s over. Ango made his choice. He’s with the government now. That means he’s our enemy.”
Oda’s jaw clenched. He understood where Dazai was coming from, but there was something about this conversation that felt wrong—too final. “You’re going to throw everything away because of what he did?”
Dazai’s laugh was dry, almost bitter. “Throw it away? Odasaku, there was nothing to throw away in the first place.” He pushed himself off the wall and took a step into the shadows of the night, his steps deliberate, but there was something unsteady in the way he moved—as if a part of him was hesitating.
“You’re wrong, Dazai.”
The words stopped Dazai in his tracks. He didn’t turn around, Oda continued. “We were all trying to survive in our own ways. Maybe Ango didn’t have a choice. But you still do.”
Dazai didn’t reply for a moment, and when he finally did, his voice was lower, more distant. “Surviving is just a fancy word for delaying the inevitable.”
Oda shook his head. “It doesn’t have to be that way, You still have a choice ”
For a moment, Dazai remained silent, his back still turned. Oda could see the faint tremor in his fingers as if he were contemplating something—something beyond just leaving.
“You don’t get it, do you?” Dazai’s voice was soft, barely audible. “I thought… maybe you of all people would.”
Oda’s brows furrowed in confusion. “What are you talking about?”
Dazai let out a quiet breath. “Mori called for me.”
Oda understood what that meant. “And you’re going?”
Dazai turned slightly, his profile barely visible in the dim light of the night. His expression was unreadable. “Mori always has a plan, Odasaku. And you’re part of it.”
Oda’s heart rate picked up, the implications settling in. “What do you mean?”
A shadow of a smile ghosted across Dazai’s lips, but it wasn’t his usual playful grin. It was sharp, cold, and laced with resignation. “You’ll find out soon enough.” His gaze flicked to the alley. “This little game we’re playing with Ango, with the government… it’s already set in motion. And we’re all just pieces on the board. Whether Pawn or King.”
Oda took a step forward, his voice more urgent. “Dazai, what’s Mori planning?”
Dazai shook his head slowly, his expression softening for just a moment. “You don’t want to know.”
Before Oda could respond, Dazai disappeared into the night, and with him, the sense of finality grew.
Oda stood there for a long moment, staring at the darkness that had just swallowed Dazai, a sinking feeling in his chest. He had seen Dazai at his most cunning, at his most ruthless—but this was different. This was the look of a man who was already resigned to his fate.
Muffled footsteps, heavy with guilt, climbed up the stairs leading to the entrance of the bar and the door opened with a creek.
Oda hadn’t moved, the tension between them lingered, unspoken but thick in the air. Ango’s gaze shifted to Oda, knowing he had to break it.
"I need to tell you something about Mimic’s commander, Gide,” Ango said quietly, his voice barely above a murmur. "He’s not like the others. Not like the usual thugs the Port Mafia deals with. He’s… dangerous in a different way."
Oda remained silent, his eyes dark and focused on nothing in particular, but Ango pressed on.
“Gide’s not after power or survival,” Ango continued. “He’s looking for a way out. He’s chasing something, and he’ll stop at nothing to get it. Recklessness like that—it means he’ll use anything, anyone, to draw you in.”
Oda’s posture tensed, but he said nothing, waiting for Ango to continue.
“There’s something else,” Ango added, hesitating for a moment before speaking. “When I spoke with Gide, he mentioned something strange. At the time, I didn’t think much of it… thought it was just a metaphor or some kind of philosophy of his. He kept talking about a taste of freedom.’”
Oda’s gaze flickered, his brow furrowing slightly as he glanced up at Ango. “Freedom?”
“Yeah,” Ango nodded. “I thought he was just being cryptic, talking about his desire to escape the life he’s trapped in. But now—” he hesitated again, a cold realization dawning. “Now I’m wondering if it wasn’t a metaphor at all. What if he was talking about your place ?”
Oda’s eyes widened slightly in recognition. “Freedom Restaurant.”
Ango nodded grimly. “I think Gide might know about the orphans. About where you’ve been keeping them.”
The weight of Ango’s words hit Oda like a blow. The orphans had always been his sanctuary, a small piece of light in the darkness of his life. If Gide knew about them—if he connected them to Oda—it wasn’t just his own life at stake anymore. It was theirs.
“If he’s planning something,” Oda said slowly, “he won’t hesitate to go after them. He’ll use them to force me into a fight.”
Ango nodded, his voice low and urgent. “Gide doesn’t care about morals. He wants an opponent, someone worthy of his strength. And right now, that’s you. The orphans—they’re just a means to an end for him.”
Oda’s jaw tightened and he stood up straight, pushing himself off the wall.
“I should have seen it earlier,” Ango's voice strained with regret. “When he mentioned freedom, I didn’t connect it to the restaurant. I thought it was about him… about his own need to escape this life. But he’s clever—too clever. He knew exactly how to hit you where it hurts.”
“We need to get to the restaurant. Now.”
Ango followed without hesitation and they stepped out into the night. The city’s usual noise was muted, leaving only the heavy thud of their footsteps as they hurried down the street.
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Dazai walked down the empty streets of Yokohama, the cool night air bit at his skin and his mind raced. He had always been good at wearing a mask of indifference, but there was no hiding from the thoughts swirling in his mind tonight.
Oda had stayed behind with Ango, as good as he was, and Dazai had left them both. It was easier that way—safer. If they stayed close, they’d only get hurt. Oda would get hurt.
But his words echoed in his mind, persistent and unyielding, even now as Dazai rounded the corner toward the Port Mafia’s headquarters.
“You still have a choice.”
Dazai’s lips twisted into a bitter smile. Choices? He had made his choice long ago when he joined the mafia when he decided to follow Mori and abandon any remaining hope of living a life in the light. The elevator opened and Dazai scanned his keycard to access the top floor. Mori’s office.
“You still have a choice.“
Part of him wondered—if things had been different if he hadn’t been so broken, would he have chosen differently?
He stopped just before reaching the entrance to Mori’s office, his hand hovering over the door handle. Inside, he knew Mori would be waiting, eager to set his plan in motion, eager to use Oda as a pawn in his game against Gide.
But Dazai’s mind was elsewhere—back at the bar, with Oda’s steady voice cutting through the darkness.
“You still have a choice.”
For a brief, fleeting moment, Dazai considered it. What if he did choose something different? What if he walked away from all of this—left the Port Mafia behind? What if they could find a way out of this dark mess together?
But the moment passed, and Dazai pushed the thought aside.
No. There was no escaping the inevitable. Mori was already waiting for him, and the wheels of fate kept turning.
Dazai pushed away the thoughts and echoes in his mind, and pushed open the door.
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“We’re not too late,” Ango panted, though he wasn’t sure if he believed it.
They reached the door, Oda wasting no time in pushing it open. The old restaurant owner looked up at the sound of the dinging of the bell from wiping down the counter. Oda didn’t waste any time with pleasantries. His eyes were already darting toward the back of the restaurant, where the stairs led to the rooms in which the orphans slept.
“Where are the kids?” Oda's tone was urgent.
The owner was startled by Oda’s sudden intensity. “They’re sleeping upstairs, like always. What’s going on?”
Oda didn’t answer. He was already moving toward the stairs, Ango following close behind. Creaking step by creaking step they climbed up the stairs, reaching the top at record speed, Oda opened the door to the room where the orphans slept. Relief washed over them both as they saw the children huddled in their beds, safe and unaware of the danger that lurked outside.
Ango let out a quiet breath, though the tension in his chest didn’t fully release. The kids were safe, for now . But Ango knew this was only a temporary reprieve.
As Oda gently closed the door behind them, his face remained hard, his resolve unshaken.
“This won’t end here,” Ango whispered, his voice heavy. “Gide will come for them eventually, for you. He won’t stop.”
Oda nodded, his expression grim. “I know. But as long as I’m still standing, I won’t let him near those kids.”
Ango’s chest tightened. He knew Oda meant every word, but that didn’t make the situation any less dire. Gide was setting him up, using his emotions against him, and Oda was walking straight into his trap.
Footsteps alerted them both of a nearing presence, but they knew that no enemy would present themselves this obviously.
“I thought you were in the van parked outside,” the owner said casually as he reached the floor Ango and Oda were on. “It pulled up a little while ago. I figured it was you.”
Oda froze, his instincts immediately flaring to life. His eyes darted toward the window, where a dark van was barely visible under the streetlamp’s weak glow. His mind raced. He hadn’t told anyone about this location, and neither had Ango. The only people who knew about the orphanage here were him, Ango, and Dazai, who was the one who arranged for her kids to be hidden there. And yet, someone had come—someone who shouldn’t be here.
“Ango,” Oda said quietly, his voice low but filled with urgency, “stay here with the owner and the kids. I’ll check outside.”
Ango nodded, his face pale but resolute. Oda moved towards the door, every second counted. If Mimic was here—and Oda had no doubt now that it was them—it meant the children were in imminent danger.
Stepping out into the cool night air, Oda’s eyes scanned the street. The van was still parked just beyond the restaurant, its windows dark. For a moment, the quiet of the street was deafening, the only sound was the soft rustle of the wind. Then, he spotted movement. Two figures near the van, crouched low, fiddling with something under the vehicle. Oda’s sharp gaze picked up a flickering red light.
A bomb.
His blood ran cold.
Without hesitation, Oda moved quickly but silently toward the van, his footsteps masked by the breeze. He didn’t need confirmation—the presence of Mimic’s underlings here meant only one thing. They were laying a trap. Oda’s thoughts raced. He had to neutralize the threat before it was too late.
He approached the men from behind. In one swift, precise motion, he knocked the first man unconscious with a blow to the neck. The second grunt turned, already combat-ready with his finger on the trigger, but after recognizing Oda his fingers quivered.
It was likely that they were given orders not to kill him, but that didn’t mean harming him wasn’t an option. Making use of the short distance between them, he disarmed him with a quick strike to a sensitive nerve on the arm, making him drop the gun.
The man threw a punch at Oda’s jaw, and a metallic taste dropped on the redhead's tongue. But the pain also urged his reaction timing, and he swiftly kicked at the man’s knees and pushed him down, holding him by his neck.
The grunt coughed. "I heard that those brats mean something to you, but I never expected such a reaction from one who swore not to kill. Are you sure about that oath?"
He’s provoking him. He knows he is. But his hand moved faster, knocking the man out before he could think about his actions.
So now that both men were slumped onto the ground, there was no one to deactivate the bomb. Great
Oda stood and quickly pulled out his phone, dialing Dazai’s number. The call connected after a few rings.
“Dazai,” Oda said, trying to keep his voice calm, though the urgency was impossible to hide. “I’ve been attacked. Some of Mimic’s men were outside Freedom Restaurant, trying to set up a bomb.”
There was a brief pause on the other end of the line before Dazai responded, his voice sharper than usual, cutting through the static. “What? That’s impossible. No one knows about that location except for us. How could they have found it?”
Oda’s jaw clenched, his mind racing. “I don’t know. But this means someone’s compromised the information. I need backup, Dazai. I don’t think we have much time.”
Dazai’s silence on the other end was unnerving as if he were trying to piece together a puzzle that shouldn’t exist. Oda could almost hear the wheels turning in his head. When Dazai finally spoke again, his voice was dark. “I’ll be there, but first… I need to have a word with Mori.”
The call ended abruptly. Oda pocketed his phone, knowing Dazai would follow through, but the gnawing fear remained. Even if Dazai did show up, he might not arrive in time.
He didn’t waste time, crouching down by the van to examine the bomb carefully. His hands were steady, but he could feel the tension in his shoulders. He wasn’t a bomb expert, but he’d dealt with enough dangerous situations working for the Port Mafia and as an assassin to know his way around one.
Out of the corner of his eye, he could pick up a figure rushing towards him. "Oda! That’s-That’s a bomb right?" The man kneeled next to him and handed him a pair of scissors. "I thought- you might need these." He panted.
Oda accepted the scissors gratefully, carefully inserting them into the mess of cables in the bomb. "Thank you. Are the kids awake?"
"Not at all, they seem to be heavy sleepers, and you work extremely silently." Ango forced a smile. "Honestly, what missions did the Port Mafia send you on for you to become this efficient?"
It didn’t seem like the most fitting time to tell him about the whole child assassin thing.
Seconds stretched into minutes as he worked, sweat beading on his forehead despite the cool air. Ango stayed by the entrance, keeping watch for any other threats, but his eyes kept flickering back to Oda.
After what felt like an eternity, the redhead let out a sharp exhale, the sound of metal clicking into place as he cut the last wire. He stood slowly, wiping his forehead with the back of his hand.
“It’s done,” Ango remarked, his voice shaky but relieved. “The bomb won’t go off.”
Oda let out a breath he didn’t know he’d been holding. “Good. We’ll still need to figure out how they found this place, but for now, the kids are safe.”
Ango nodded, though the weight of what had just happened still hung heavy in the air. “I’ll call in some contacts. We need to get the orphans out of here as soon as possible.”
As Oda glanced at the window of the room they were sleeping in. He felt a pang of guilt twist in his chest. This was supposed to be their haven, the one place where they were beyond the reach of the Port Mafia, beyond the reach of danger. And yet, even here, the darkness had found them.
"Oda?" Ango ripped the man out of his thoughts. "Is that okay with you? I’m sure whatever place I might be able to find would be happy to have you help them."
The redhead coughed. "No it's fine really, you shouldn’t have to do this."
"It’s the least I could do for all the damage I’ve done," When Ango saw that Ida was about to protest, he put a hand on his forearm. "Please, let me do this for you. I don’t want to ruin anymore, I don’t want to separate you from them"
Oda inhaled sharply. "Ango, listen, I can’t-" He struggled to voice his fears. "I can’t stay with the kids. Where I go, Mimic is sure to follow, and I can’t drag them into this."
Ango let out an understanding sigh. "I see," he chuckled despite himself. "Guess that puts us in the same situation. You’re hiding from Mimic and I’m hiding from the Port Mafia."
Oda found a weak smile tug at the corner of his mouth.
"Yeah, we really fuzzed up huh?"
Ango seemed surprised, before letting out another, more sincere, laugh. "Yeah, we really did."
"Guess that makes us Fuzz-buddies!" Another voice joined, and both Ango’s and Oda's heads snapped toward the source of the noise.
"Dazai," Ango breathed out. "Don’t- don’t scare us like that!"
Dazai hummed. "Why not? You said yourself that you’re on the run from the Port Mafia, no?"
Ango stiffened.
"I'm leaving. Ango, unless you suddenly start seeing the same appeal in death as me, I suggest you never show your face to me again."
"I-I" Ango stammers, barely registering the way Oda positions himself protectively over him. "Th-this isn’t-"
"Ah, but don’t worry, it’s not like him Port Mafia anyway."
That certainly caught their attention.
"What?!"
Dazai sighed. "Well, it happened somewhat like this.."
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“To obtain that permit, Boss, you had started planning a few years ago.”
Dazai stands in front of the office desk, continuing to speak. “It should be two years ago, when Ango traveled to Europe, that you started to roll out this plan. Gathering information there, you ordered Ango to get into contact with the enemy with the biggest hope, Mimic. The mystery of how Mimic left Europe and illegally migrated to Japan has a simple answer. Behind the scenes, the Port Mafia was the one assisting them. To make the Special Ability Department anxious, to force them to act,
You specifically brought the enemy organization to Yokohama .”
“Dazai.” Mori, who had been listening silently, opens his mouth to interrupt him for the first time. “This is an excellent deduction, there’s nothing I need to correct. I want to ask you something. What wrong is there to what I’ve done? ”
“……”
“I’ve already said it. I am always thinking of the entire organization. As you can see, now that we’ve obtained the Ability Business Permit, in truth, the government has already acknowledged our illegal activities. Oda Sakunosuke is now gambling his life to exterminate the troublesome thugs. It’s a reversal of fortunes! But why are you so angry?”
Dazai is silent. For the first time, Dazai is unable to explain his own feelings.
“I…”
"Nothing is worth prolonging a painful life to pursue."
"Wake me up from this rotten world of a dream."
“I… just…” Dazai forces the words out stiffly. “I just can’t accept it. The one who secretly told Mimic where the orphans Odasaku was raising were hidden was you . Other than you, no one else could have obtained information on the hiding place I chose. You killed the children – To get Odasaku, the only ability user who can go against Mimic’s commander, to go forth and fight the enemy.”
“My answer is the same, Dazai. If it’s for the organization’s benefit, I’ll do anything. Moreover, the Port Mafia gathers the city’s darkness, violence, and illogical existences. As it stands, what else is there to say?”
Dazai understands. Mori's logical calculations, thoughts, and plans are all for this organization, the Port Mafia’s sake.
Logically speaking, Mori is right and Dazai is wrong.
“But…”
Dazai turns and heads towards the exit.
In reaction, Mori's subordinates point their guns at him simultaneously.
“You cannot go, Dazai,” Mori says with a tone persuading him to stay. “Stay here. Or do you have a legitimate reason to go to his side?”
“I want to tell you two things, Boss.” Dazai turns his head, narrowing his eyes and looking at Mori. “First, you won’t shoot me, neither will you order your subordinates to shoot.”
“Why? Because you’re hoping that someone will shoot you?”
“No, because there is no merit in doing so.”
Mori smiles slightly. “Indeed. But the same can be said of you, there is no merit for you to defy me and go to his side, no?”
“That’s the second thing, Boss. Indeed, there is no merit. I am going for one reason because he’s my friend . I’ll be leaving now.”
The subordinates raise their guns, fingers on the trigger.
Uncaringly, Dazai strolls towards the door.
The subordinates look at their Boss, requesting for him to give the order.
Mori crosses his arms, carrying a slight smile as he looks at Dazai’s back wordlessly.
Dazai passes through the door heading towards the corridor and disappears.
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"But…that doesn’t…mean you were fired" Ango stammered. "I mean, I’m sure the Boss wouldn’t want to lose an executive over something like this."
"Ah, but you see, Ango," Dazai had let himself flop on the couch, now lazily looking up at the both of them. "This isn’t the first time a… disagreemen t between Mori-sam and I has occurred. And after this time, if he didn’t already have his eyes on Odasaku before, he certainly does now."
Oda felt himself tense up at that. "You mean-"
"He’ll use him against me until I crash out, either becoming his perfect right-hand man without opinions or slice his throat and become his successor." Dazai cackled. "You know, he sometimes seems to flinch a bit when I make sudden movements around him! But as much as I enjoy making big shits like him squirm, I don’t really wanna go down either of his paths."
Ango swallowed the lump down his dry throat. "Dazai-"
"So Ango~" Dazais eyes glinted. "What’s your plan?"
"Eh?" Ango startled. "What plan?"
"You had a plan right?"
"I-"
Both Oda and Dazai’s eyes were on him, expectantly.
"…I need to make a call."
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Taneda sat at his desk in his dimly lit office. The phone call with Ango was still echoing in his mind and he could feel a smile tugging at his lips. Who would have thought that that uptight man would ever sound so personal and emotional about something?
Across from him stood one of his subordinates, nervously fidgeting with his tie trying to ignore the tension that hung in the air.
The subordinate finally seemed to have gathered the courage to speak up.
“Sir, by assisting Dazai , we’re not just risking exposure, we’re directly inviting the Port Mafia’s wrath. If they find out we had any involvement, it’s only a matter of time before they retaliate.”
Taneda leaned back in his chair. Despite the circumstances, he could not help but feel happy his new worker had finally voiced his thoughts. It’s a skill many do not possess, which makes it all the more valuable in life.
“Yes… helping him does place a target on us. But sometimes, doing nothing is the greater evil.”
The man avoids eye contact, apparently finding his shoes far more interesting than his boss’s face.
“But sir, is it really our place to—”
His superior glances out the window lost in thought.
“Do you know about Fukuzawa? A former assassin. He was once deep in the shadows, a weapon trained to kill. Now look at him—he’s leading the Armed Detective Agency, helping people with abilities like him find purpose. He gave them a way out of the darkness.”
He pauses for a second, chasing a thought.
“Even Yosano—she’s a brilliant doctor now, but she too was trapped in the twisted world of Mori . She’s proof that someone can escape that life, that people with abilities don’t have to be doomed.”
The man tries again, cautiously.
"But Fukuzawa and Yosano—those were different situations. They got out on their own terms. If the Port Mafia finds out we helped Dazai , it won’t be that simple. We’ll have them breathing down our necks."
Taneda's gaze hardens, but there’s a flicker of empathy in his eyes
"We will not get caught. The trio will disappear on their own, simply using our safe houses and Fake IDs that could all have come from Ango's pocket alone. This plan is on Ango’s shoulders, and he understands the consequences of his actions. He’s willing to bear them. Alone. It’s that determination that made me hire him."
The office worker still seems hesitant.
“Even so… is saving Dazai worth the risk? He’s dangerous, and if he turns back to the Mafia—”
“We’re not just saving Dazai from the Mafia. We’re giving him a chance, a path like Fukuzawa once took. I can’t stand by and do nothing when someone like him—who still has a chance at redemption—can escape this life.” Taneda stands, his voice is steady.
“We’ve watched too many kids with abilities fall into darkness. Gide is an example of what happens when we turn a blind eye—an innocent who was molded into a monster. Natsume-sensei always taught us to help those in need, to offer guidance when we can. Fukuzawa did it, and he gave others hope. It’s time I followed in those footsteps.”
His subordinate pauses, but eventually nods reluctantly.
“Understood, sir. I’ll prepare the necessary steps for Ango’s escape to go smoothly.”
"Thank you." Taneda finds himself truly grateful. "We can’t save everyone, but for those we can… we have to try. For Dazai, for the next generation. We owe it to them."