Chapter Text
The sun beat down scorchingly hot on the pavement, as it did almost every day in Suribachi city at the height of summer. The heat from above cooked the ground and warmed it up so red-hot, you could probably cook an egg atop it if you really wanted to. But, like… who would want to do that?
Typically, Nakahara Chuuya didn’t experience that hot pavement as one-on-one as he did now- with his face pressed against that heated asphalt. He hit the ground hard, caught unaware by his unknown attackers. Before he could get himself on his feet and fight back, he felt a weight press down on his back, and it occurred to him someone was trying to restrain him.
Such a wonderful turn of events. Just an hour earlier he’d been waving to Shirase as he left for the day, just to go out for a bit. Some leisure time, he’d thought. A relaxing little outing. The 15-year-old had been hoping to get some ice cream just ten minutes before, craving some relief from the warm weather, intensified from a body that already tended to run hot.
Chuuya had been leaning against the wall of an alley, minding his own damn business like any normal person. He hadn’t caused any sort of disturbance or done anything to warrant a reaction, so there had been no reason for him to suspect he was about to be forcefully shoved to the ground.
The ginger began to struggle the moment he realized what was happening but was too caught off guard to consider activating his ability just yet. From his periphery, as he attempted to swing his head around, he caught a glimpse of his assailants: two painfully plain-looking men in formal black suits and ties.
Around Yokohama, there was really only one type of person who dressed like that. Goddamn Port Mafia. His kicking and struggling intensified as he felt himself be lifted up and moved. The man in charge of that was clearly having a struggle of his own, huffing as he both dragged Chuuya along and attempted to dodge the limbs his partner hadn’t grabbed ahold of.
Chuuya had no fucking clue why he was being attacked by some Port Mafia randos- he hadn’t done anything to piss off their ranks recently, nor was he aware of any of the Sheep getting up to stupid hijinks.
Any deeper thinking about motivation or causation grew to a halt as Chuuya belatedly realized he was being dragged in the direction of a sleek black car.
Finally, the surprise wore off and his senses returned to him. His skin gave off a red aura as he finally gained the sense to call upon For The Tainted Sorrow. Whatever these guys wanted didn’t matter, considering they’d be struck down and he’d be far away in another minute.
The gravity of the redhead’s body increased tenfold within an instant. The guy trying to hold Chuuya made a noise of alarm as the body in his arms became unbearably heavy, impossible to carry any further or even to hold up. Chuuya braced himself for the impact of the very brief drop, but the moment he was relatively free, he was scrambling to get back on his feet to get a better read on the situation.
Neither of these guys had reached for a gun in the next few seconds, implying they likely had orders to return with a very alive king of the Sheep. Unfortunately for them, they wouldn’t be returning with anything at all.
Not really interested in prolonging this, more annoyed than anything with this encounter, Chuuya simply willed the gravity around the two men to pull horizontally, slamming them both into each other.
Both dropped to the ground with a light thump. Chuuya growled and shuffled up to them, watching their chests. Still breathing. Whatever, it wasn't his problem anymore.
Chuuya turned on his heel and began to step away, thoroughly ready to head back to his friends.
Bang!
Goddammit. Chuuya heard now what had been ringing in the background of the whole ordeal: a muffled, metallic banging. He sighed and turned yet again, walking toward the noise. Curiosity killed the cat.
He could figure from the direction and sound of the noise that it was coming from that car. Specifically, the trunk. From the situation at hand, it wasn’t hard to assume that someone was probably in there.
At this realization, Chuuya cursed under his breath and hurried his way to the car. Luckily, it was unlocked, likely due to the fact he himself was about to be shoved in there. He tugged the back open manually, seeing no need for the force of his ability. It gave way as easily as anything else, flipping up a bit too fast and hard. The adrenaline that still coursed through his body made it hard to gauge how much strength to exert at the moment.
As the top of the trunk flipped up, Chuuya was able to catch a view of what lay inside: some kid with a fist cocked back and frozen, stopping just in time to avoid hitting Chuuya in the face. Clearly, that fist was the source of the banging.
The kid looked up once they had realized that the trunk had been opened. Their eyes darted around frantically in an attempt to make sense of the situation as quickly as possible.
As they sized up their surroundings, Chuuya took the time to size them up. They looked young, probably Chuuya’s age, give or take a year or two. They had a sharp, angular face, androgynous enough Chuuya couldn’t immediately pinpoint their gender one way or another. Different features seemed to point in multiple different directions. Whatever. Wasn’t Chuuya’s place to decipher what they were.
They had dark brown hair, curly and messy, clearly unbrushed and further tousled from whatever scuffle they went through to end up in the back of a car. Their starkly pale complexion, nearly to a point of looking wan, likely made their hair color appear darker than it really was, but against that light color, it looked nearing black.
Their eyes, or rather, eye, was a warm brown similar to their hair, but with an additional reddish tinge to it. Only the left eye was visible, the right one obscured by bandages wrapping all the way around the person’s head.
When Chuuya’s eyes drifted down past the face, he could see those weren’t the only bandages adorning the kid’s body. They stretched on to nearly all places that clothing stopped, obscuring any view of their actual skin. From neck to the bottom of their arms, from what could be seen past the cuffs of the long sleeves they donned.
They had a stupid fucking outfit on. Some baggy ass hoodie hanging off their shoulders, too big for their obviously wiry frame. At least Chuuya wore clothes that fit .
“You don’t look like you’re with them,” came the voice of the kid before Chuuya. Hearing their voice now, notably more deep and masculine than expected, he assumed the kid was a guy.
“‘Cause I’m not,” Chuuya responded, stepping back and making room for the other to climb out of the car, but not offering a hand to help or anything.
The brunette shifted and carefully maneuvered himself out of the car and onto the ground, seeming a bit shaky. His legs probably fell asleep from being cramped up in there, Chuuya assumed.
Now standing, Chuuya begrudgingly noticed this new person was notably taller than himself, enough so that he had to tilt his head up to meet their one visible eye. Tch. Unfair.
He couldn’t help but also notice the brunette’s long, slim legs, and how they seemed to go on forever in those ripped-up fishnet tights. Trailing back up, the tights disappeared under equally ripped black shorts, that-
“Then what are you, hmm?” Chuuya snapped back to attention at the sound of the boy’s voice again.
“The guy that just saved your ass,” Chuuya huffed, pulling a hand out of his jacket pocket to gesture to the currently unconscious mafiosos.
The boy raised an eyebrow. “You didn’t save anyone’s ass. I could’ve gotten out of there any time I wanted, Chibi,” he huffed.
“Haa!? The hell do you mean, ‘Chibi’!?”
“I’m just making a scientific observation pertaining to your stature.” The boy crossed his arms.
Chuuya stomped, absolutely fuming at the audacity of this asshole he had just saved . “I’m a perfectly acceptable fucking height, dipshit. And I’m still growing!”
The boy opened his mouth, probably to make another stupid retort, but Chuuya cut him off before he could stop, “And the hell do you mean, could’ve helped yourself!? I heard you bangin’ away in there. You weren’t going anywhere! At least be grateful when someone helps you!”
The guy had the audacity to groan and roll his eyes, the asshole. “I had everything under control, Chibi.”
“Stop calling me that! My name’s fuckin’ Nakahara Chuuya!”
He side-eyed Chuuya with a bored expression, “I don’t really care what your name is. If you’ll excuse me, I think I’ll be on my way now.”
The boy shoved his hands into the pockets of those unnecessarily short shorts and turned on his heel, beginning to walk away in the other direction.
“Hey- wait up a second!” Chuuya called after him, put off by the moron’s seeming complete lack of self-preservation.
Just going on to walk down the street alone after an attempted kidnapping ? What the fuck?
He wasn’t stopped by Chuuya’s shouting, gingerly stepping over one of the unconscious mafia members like it were just an annoying bump in the road.
“Hey! I said wait up!” Chuuya repeated.
The boy continued to ignore Chuuya, clearly just being a bitch on purpose. The redhead huffed in frustration and speed-walked toward him, catching up before he could get too far and grabbing his wrist to stall him.
“I just want to talk, Jesus fucking Christ.” The boy tried to jerk his hand back from the touch like he had been burned. The strong reaction nearly made Chuuya feel bad, but he had stopped in his tracks, so there wasn’t too much lingering guilt considering it worked anyways.
He sighed, turning back around to Chuuya, beginning to look more annoyed. Chuuya noticed slight bruising beginning to show on his face that he hadn’t noticed earlier.
“ What? ” He hissed, tugging at Chuuya’s grip on his wrist.
God. This kid was so rude it almost made Chuuya want to quit trying to help. All he was doing was being nice, how did that warrant such snappy replies?
“I was just thinking,” Chuuya suggested, “that walking off alone doesn’t seem like a very safe idea right now. We both just almost got yoinked or whatever.”
The boy raised an eyebrow at him, though whether it was for where Chuuya was going with this or his usage of the word ‘yoinked’ was anyone’s guess.
“It would just be safer to stick together or something. I know I could hold my own against those guys, but they actually managed to grab you. Assuming they’re Port Mafia, they have a reason for doing that, yeah? You’ve got something they want. That’s not gonna be their last try.”
The teen’s impatient expression loosened as if he were starting to consider Chuuya’s reasoning.
“You should just… stick around for a bit or whatever. Or not. I don’t really care. But if you want to…” Chuuya did in fact care, but he wasn’t about to say that. Being the kind of guy who actually worries about people’s well-being wasn’t all that cool around Suribachi, ok?
The boy let out a frustrated sigh. Clearly, he just couldn’t argue with Chuuya’s stellar argument.
The incessant tugging halted as he conceded to Chuuya’s point.
“...Alright. Fine. I guess I had nothing better to do anyway. But Chibi better be able to entertain me and make it worth my while.”
As much as the boy seemed to be trying to play it off as the opposite, Chuuya could tell he was agreeing because something the ginger had said had hit the nail on the head. Chuuya wasn’t stupid, after all.
But he couldn’t help but wonder… What the hell had this kid done for the mafia to want him? The answer for Chuuya was easy: his powerful ability and notoriety in Suribachi as the “King of the Sheep”, though he didn’t really like to call himself that.
“Cool. I’ll try.” Chuuya released the boy’s wrist and began walking.
“By the way, what’s your name? Or do I have to just call you ‘kid’ or something all day?”
He took a very long while to respond, leaving an emptiness in the air as they began to walk towards a more central street together.
After a much-too-long-to-be-polite amount of time, the boy responded.
“Sh-” He began to say, but cut himself off abruptly. “... Dazai. Call me Dazai.”