Chapter Text
Paperwork made your mind numb. You were pretty sure you’d read the same line, on the same paper, no fewer that 15 times and you were starting to get a migraine. You didn’t pull your eyes up from the papers until you saw a cup of coffee placed on the desk next to you, craning your head up to meet the eyes… or eye, of Kouyou. She gave you an understanding smile.
“Thought you could use a pick me up.” She said as she gazed down at the papers on your desk. “I know it’s mind numbing, but it’s important.” You knew she was right, but every single paper in front of you was almost identical to the last. Your job at this moment in time was to go over the reports from mafia operatives, they were recounts of missions, reports on suspicious activity and running theories. However, almost every single one of them was identical, went in, killed people, got out. It didn’t help that they were all written painfully plainly too; you couldn’t even tell who was writing which report with how dull and uniform they all were. Well, all except one particular one. You did typically enjoy reading the reports of one Nakahara Chuuya, who seemed to be the only operative actually capable of writing a report that didn’t make you want to tear your hair out and claw out your eyes with a spoon.
You only had to go through these reports once a month, but that week of the month was always full of headaches and excessive amounts of caffein, as the job typically kept you up into the early hours of the morning. You thanked Kouyou for the coffee and tried your hardest to get back to work. It was going to be a long night, you could tell.
Your job kept you pretty isolated, even when you weren’t going through reports, the majority of the time, you could do your job from home. Your usual day to day tasks were to map out routes for future ops, ensure shipments went smoothly, organize bribes (When they were necessary) and handle recruitment, rarely did your job require you to be out in the field, or even in the office, with the exception of the one week a month when you had to go through reports. Overall, you liked your job, it kept you entertained for the most part and the pay was significantly better than you could get doing something outside of the Port Mafia.
Since you were pretty isolated the majority of the time, you’d gotten to know most Port Mafia operatives through their writing, whether they wrote concisely or were all over the place, whether they used correct punctuation or just submitted you a large block of text (Tachihara, the asshole) and how animatedly they wrote, which for about 99% of the staff, was not very animatedly at all. Again, reading reports made you want to toss your brain out a window on the best of days. Chuuya fell firmly within that 1%; his reports were not only well written, but they were also interesting, they actually had some semblance of personality. It took you a long time to be able to recognize mafia operatives by their writing, except for Chuuya, you learned the recognize him almost immediately, and his reports were the only ones you actively looked forward to. You’d learned a great deal about Chuuya over the course of your roughly a year with the Port Mafia, you learned he hated some guy named Dazai, you learned he smoked way too much and you learned that he had a genuine affection for his team; of course, you’d never even met the man so it’s true he could still be huge asshole, but you were giving him the benefit of the doubt.
You finished with the report that had taken you the better part of 45 minutes when it really should have taken you 10, but hey, you still felt a sense of satisfaction as you wrote out your response. Part of this job, and the thing that made it the most tedious, was the fact that many times, operatives tended to be vague in their reports or didn’t include an important part of information that you really needed in order to log it properly, so you had to write back to them, ask them for that information or ask for clarification and then wait while they formulated their response. It’s what made the task last an entire week instead of just a few days. It was also the fact that you had to write everything by hand. Normally you’d prefer to use a computer, send an email or something, you were sure it would make the process faster too, but Mori was absolutely unmovable that everything that was sent between you and Port Mafia operatives had to be written by hand, as it’s much more difficult to intercept a physical letter than it is to hack into an email. You knew he was right, but you were really starting to get tired of the cramps in your hand.
You sighed as you closed the envelope, addressed it to the appropriate operative and placed on your stack of outgoing letters. You looked at your remaining stack of reports. You were going to be here until midnight, at the least, you were going to need a lot more coffee. Looking down at your new report, you recognized the vernacular and handwriting almost immediately, and found an easy smile slip onto your face. This was one of Chuuya’s reports, you didn’t even have to look at the name. You took a sip of your coffee, leaning back in your chair as you started reading.
“Mission number 4851 was successful. Numbers of operatives lost during conflict – 6. My team and I entered at the northwest entrance, from previous correspondence with one of our contacts, we were made aware the target would be closer to the South entrance. Target name – Kirito Tachibana – Identification number – 25648. Tachibana was a weapons smuggler, in fact I’d worked with him a few times over the years, before he went dark anyway. Approximately 4 years ago, Tachibana began selling weapons to a rival mafia group in Europe, he went dark, cut off all contact with The Port Mafia and lost us a metric shit ton of money.”
You chuckled at the wording. Chuuya was the only one who didn’t write in a constant crisp professional manner and it never failed to grab your attention. You’d found yourself developing a certain affection for his rough language.
“For the past 4 years he’d managed to avoid retribution from The Port Mafia, protected by his foreign friends. However, with the help of a confidential leak – identification number 8685 – I was able to identify that Tachibana would be attending a gallery, a mere 50 yards from a Port Mafia hub spot (Fucking idiot).
I approached with a team of approx. 25 operatives, all armed to the teeth and 15 of which being ability users. At approx.. 10:36pm we open fired on the gallery, hostiles eliminated – 16. Tachibana was successfully apprehended and transferred to a Rank 5 Port Mafia safe house, where his interrogation is taking place. Remaining team member reports to follow.
-Port Mafia Executive,
Nakahara Chuuya”
You took a moment to stare at the way he signed his name, the delicacy of the strokes of the pen, the pressure used to strike the ink onto the paper. You wondered who this Nakahara Chuuya was, what did he look like? What did he sound like? Would he find you as endlessly entertaining as you found him?
“Short and to the point.” Kouyou’s voice over your shoulder nearly made you jump out of your skin. “Sounds like Chuuya.” You turned to look at the woman behind you. She held a cup of coffee in one hand as she read Chuuya’s report. “Mafia group in Europe? Which one?” Kouyou put a hand on your shoulder before taking her leave. “Write him back, ask for clarification on which group.” She said as she exited the room again.
Write him? Like write a letter for Chuuya? It was at this moment that, in all the time you’ve been doing this job, off all of the letters you’ve had to write to ask for clarification or missing details, you’ve never once had to write one to Chuuya, he’s just always been so good at getting you all of the details. But the idea of writing to him, of making him take the time out of his day to add more information, it made you nervous. Not because you thought he’d be upset, but because it would technically be your first time speaking to him. Technically, he’s spoken to you multiple times, in his reports that is, but you’ve never responded. What were you even supposed to say? Did you word it the same way you did other correspondences? Would you be more formal or more casual, considering Chuuya tended to write to you in a more casual tone.
You stared at the blank piece of paper for what seemed like hours, your hand just barely hovering over it, trying to think of how to start this particular letter. You took a deep breath, closing your eyes for just a moment before you let your pen connect to the paper.
“Executive Nakahara,
This is (y/n) located in records. I’ve finished going over your report of your recent operation – mission number 4851 – and I am writing in regard to gaining further clarification on the particular European Mafia branch you mentioned. Please respond at your earliest convenience. Thank you.
-Port Mafia Department of Records”
You stared down at your words for a few minutes. Was it too short? Too formal? Not formal enough? Was it really important that your name was in there? You were tempted to re write it and omit your name, but you stopped yourself. A part of you wanted Chuuya to know who you were. Wanted him to know the name of the person he was writing his reports to. You put your pen down on the table before you could think about it anymore. This would be fine. It got your point across, and it was short and to the point. It’s fine.
You repeated this to yourself as you folded the letter up, placing it neatly inside an envelope, which you sealed and neatly penned Chuuya’s name onto the front, placing it in your outgoing letters pile and trying your hardest not to overthink about it while you attempted to move onto the next report. It was not an easy task.
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You woke up with a splitting headache. 3 hours of sleep was not doing much for you right now. It took a considerable amount of time before you mustered up the motivation to get out of your warm bed and step out into Yokohama’s chilly autumn air. You were not looking forward to today, it was day 3 of your 7-day report season and you already felt like your head was going to explode. You hadn’t even made it to the office yet! You pulled your coat closer to your body as you strolled through the streets, it was quiet today, the docks were calm and all in all, it was pretty nice. You thought about possibly opening the window to your office, letting in some of this cool fresh air while you worked, the thought made the idea of going back to reading reports a little more tolerable.
The office was quiet too, no panicked team send outs, the front desk was unhurried and friendly as you walked past the front doors, the elevator wasn’t crowded. All in all, it was shaping out to be a decently nice day… until you go to your office and saw the stack of reports along with the stack of newly delivered response letters from all of the operatives you’d had to communicate with for further information. Your headache was back. A thought popped into your head though.
There was no way Chuuya would have already responded right? You had just sent the letter to him last night. Even so, you still found yourself sifting through the stack of envelopes, looking for the handwriting you new so well. You were nearing the end and you were beginning to lose hope, maybe you were right, and he hadn’t had a chance to respond yet, but then your eyes landed on it. The very same handwriting you’d practically memorized printed on the front of an envelope. “Records”it read. You paused before you picked it up. Would he be annoyed that you asked for further information? Surely not, he’s an executive, he of all people knows how important it is to get all of the information. Why were you even concerned in the first place? Your job was to collate information, not cater to Port Mafia executives you’ve never met. You didn’t work for Chuuya, you worked for Mori and Kouyou, but still, you couldn’t help the slight tremble in your fingers as you opened the letter.
“Miss (y/n),
Thank you for bringing this lapse in information to my attention. The particular branch I mentioned in my initial report would be the Polish branch. Feel free to contact me for any further correspondence, office number 9-B, my door is always open.
-Port Mafia Executive
Nakahara Chuuya”
You kicked yourself for the flutter of butterflies in your stomach at Chuuya addressing you by name. HE IS DOING HIS JOB! You kept repeating to yourself. You took a deep breath before setting the letter down and correcting your records to include the specified branch before your eyes returned to the large stack of letters and reports.
It was going to be a long day.