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There, the broken cell, bars blasted apart. A glow against the shards of metal and shattered grey bricks splattered against the floor. Far above in view, a figure. Painted black against the baby blue light of the full moon. The wind breezed against the fluffed hair, pushing the individual's long coat high to the right.
There had been a shout, an explosion or two. Some scuttling of feet and a young child's cries. But now nothing was heard. The world had become silent. Almost as if frozen. Even the wind had taken a pause before returning to its pulling of air.
"Wh-who are you..?"
The second noise to break the silence, a thin boney build had spoken. The boy covered in a light azure rag as he looked up at the personage hovering over him.
The world had shifted for that singular moment. The vacuum of silence ending and restarting. It took a few pauses for the mysterious individual to recite a sentence. Just a few words.
"My name, is Akutagawa Ryunosuke."
The boy chained against a loose brick. One to never be allowed a dream of living. One who wished for no more pain. One who was afraid of death. Would have never thought for a second in his life that he would escape his tortures and grievances by following the rabid dog of the Port Mafia.
~~~~~
Earlier that day, the white haired boy had been having a better day than usual. Even including the fact that he had then turned 15. His cell had been lit up with the sun shining its rays against the walls and the floor. Everything looked golden, light reflecting on the specs of dust as stars floating all around him.
His soft fluffy hair, similar to that of fur, had a saturated hue to it. His face was comforted by the warmth of the light around him. How only a few stray clouds blocked the healing view of the paprika skies.
He thought to himself, maybe this day wouldn't be so bad. The half hearted reassurance so that he could get through the day. That half hearted reassurance that if something bad did happen, he didn't trap himself into believing the day would actually be okay.
The thin child was given a single bun of stale bread, perhaps of that a few days old, maybe older, maybe younger than that. But he couldn't tell nor did he care much, but focused on just having that of a meal. The coldness of the bun warming to the sun and little flesh of hands. He had pulled himself close, knees to his chest, holding the bread as it was the most valuable item he would ever have.
The first bite of food against the dryness of his throat was enough to make him choke. But if he was heard struggling to swallow just that of an inch of bread, he would be laughed at. A pitiful sight. They would punish him, saying that he was pompous, dissatisfied with their merciful giving of food to a waste of space such as him. To choke as if he needed some food more grand than what was given. He held back a cough, holding his breath. His eyes welling up in a wet droplet cleansing the dirt under his eyes. He waited a few seconds until the choke had passed to take another bite.
The bun had filled his stomach for the first time in years. Feeling the pain of a full meal, how it would keep him alive for at least half a week. How he couldn't have saved the meal for later for the rats, the ants and the flies would have come for it.
There the scared boy stayed, wrapping his legs to his chest. Sitting in a way he had done for years, making him feel safe, to not feel as frigid and fragile as he was. Keeping himself in a bundle of his own world. He rested his head over his knees, staring down at his thin ankles and boney feet. Lightly swollen, dead grey skin surrounded by the red of blood beneath, cuffed by uncomfortable shackles.
Dozing off, using his cold self as warmth, the Earth shifted around the sky. Passing the large star in the sky and flowing into the inky coolness of the night. The chittering of mice pass the bars, and the slowing of steps from above him as the building retires for the night. The land of sun prepares for moon and the people shall lull.
The clouds roll in before the moon's light can shine. The dropping of rain begins. The soft tickling of the droplets, starting as a lullaby before it drowns the room with water from the open window. Yet only for a few minutes as the rain clouds pass, causing a puddle of water near the boy, and the dew on the dark green grass as a cricket hums.
~~~~~
There Akutagawa Ryunosuke stood, in an empty grass field that had been showered by rain only minutes before, soaking the soles of his shoe, water smudged on his heels. There he was, under an order from the Port Mafia's boss, to find a single man. A man who was put high for cash on the black market for his knowledge on ability users. There was only one record of this man found, given no name, no age, and no information. All but two, a face and where he was last seen, an orphanage.
"I need you to find me a man." There had sat Mori Ōugai, faced away, the head of the infamous Port Mafia, a doctor, a killer, and a leader. Akutagawa had walked into the dark room, its hard birch floors, the only light showing throught a stained glass window. One of many designs, yet a simple palette of colors. The wine red accompanied by shades of purple. The red light shone onto Akutagawa and the table behind his boss.
Akutagawa had been called into his office on the top floor. The now quiet building as a mafia executive, Akutagawa's previous mentor, the youngest mafia executive in history, Osamu Dazai, had disappeared.
"There is a man, known for his extraordinary knowledge in abilities, up for a pricey amount in the underworld." Mori had continued, "I need you to find him, to bring him." Turning his chair around and pushing a file towards Akutagawa. "This mission should be enough for just you to handle with just yourself. I trust that you will find him as soon as possible."
Akutagawa then lifted a piece of paper from his wooden table, it contained the only information of the mysterious man. Then with the flick of a hand Akutagawa was sent off.
~~~~~
There it was, Akutagawa was meters away from the gate. Thinking to himself, an orphanage in the middle of nowhere?
The building itself was a rather dull one, it was large in size, one so close wouldn't see the top. But the grandness of volume had been replaced by a blemish of cracks. The dirt of the farms had been carried to the wall. If it were to be hosed off, surely the building would crumple. As a light was killed, the rest would follow, in ones and twos, till just a singular remained.
Trespassing, he had made his way to the structure. He had pushed himself against the wall, a sudden sense he felt that he had been seen. A man with a hickory bowl cut had left the room, left inside was a man with milk hair that flowed behind himself, the same man from the file, the one Akutagawa was looking for. Staring at him from another window above. The headmaster. As Akutagawa made a move, the man had quickly moved inside, the wall where Akutagawa stood against had blown up.
The crying of children and panic had surrounded the area, gusts of wind harshly passing by. Akutagawa had been able to dodge the blast, but the grey brick of the wall was now spread all over the mushy grass, dampening the cinder blocks. There he saw a boy in the room that was on the other side of the fallen wall. Covered in soot and 2 streaks of red streaming down his face, caused by the explosion. He never knew that one day, that boy would become someone so important.
~~~~~
"My name, is Akutagawa Ryunosuke." There he stood, facing down at the boys whose mouth is agape staring above him. "I am looking for a man under Port Mafia orders" He continued, but the dirt covered boy had said nothing, just continued to stare inquisitively at the stranger.
Akutagawa was thin, but was relatively well built. His hair was touched white at its tip, reflecting onto his eyelashes, those white as well, his face powdered a bit to match the color. He wore a gothic style of make-up, yet it was something simple. His eyes were shaped with a sharp eyeliner that was angled down, this brought out the eyelashes, yet went well with his grey eyes against the darkness. His top lip was painted obsidian, matching the wings.
He wore a long coat, hiding his demure in the cold of night, it was a coat that he hadn't quite fully fit in yet. Wrapped behind were loose ribbons used to tighten the waist. They blew in the wind, yet didn't drag to the dew.
Waiting for an answer, Akutagawa walked nearer to him, hoping it would form an indication. Stepping on dry and wet rubble, the water that filled the floor of the destroyed room. Yet as seconds passed nothing was said, all was silent.
"Excuse me? I am speaking to you? Or did the explosion burst your hearing?" A sharp tongue in distaste. Akutagawa waits a few more seconds, but there is still no response. Akutagawa scoffs as he turns to walk away, thinking to himself how pathetic this is. He then is stopped by the sound of a chain rattling. Turning his head, looking high, to see the boy beneath him move closer to him.
"May I.. may I go with you.." the first proper words, the first legible sentence stuttered. But still then, Akutagawa was baffled by the sentence. "Go with me?" It made no sense to him. Akutagawa had gotten this stranger's room blown up. Well what a room this is... Then he started focusing on everything around him.
Broken metal bars that were either bent or shredded. Rain water splattered all over the floor. A boy chained to a brick in the wall, a cuff that's ripping the skin on his ankle. He lives in this cell, does he wish to escape or something? Is that why he speaks?
"Why are you chained?" That's all he thought to ask, but to continue this questionnaire would be a waste of time. He needed to find the man in his files and finish his mission. That's when it struck him, why is the room blown up, where is the man, yet time had gone on and he had probably gotten the jump. And if he doesn't hurry to follow, the mission would be lost and his target will get away.
"Ah...that is because..." The boy below had paused, should he give such information of his life to a stranger, one who could be of Port Mafia aswell.. who hasn't even agreed to let him follow. He had learned of the dangers and horrors committed by such an esteemed organization. Although, what could this man do with such information?
"Well? Don't make me wait here forever, I am a rather busy individual. I have no need to wait for such a material conversation with you." Akutagawa had spoken with a bore for the slow conversation, adding a hiss in his words. He had rested his hip on a leg, arms crossed. Yet as he was rolling his eyes he spotted the moon straight above, the blue radiating the sun's reflection. Blue from red, cool from flame. He pondered from his position on where the sun would rise, seeing if there were peaks of its appearance soon.
Tsk "Just hurry along, I do not have all night." He turned away, "You can answer my questions as we walk." That had made the shivered boy shocked, he stared at the figure above, wide eyed. Pausing for a moment before he smiled and scurried behind. The dirt beneath him letting go and falling from his rags and back to land.
"As I said, my name is Akutagawa Ryunosuke, I work under the Port Mafia." He stepped along the path leading away from the orphanage. "What is your name?"
The blood heat from the stray had risen to his face, he had no name other than 78... The one his dear orphanage director had given him. But such a name was pitiful, one to give glances, because it wasn't at all a name, not even a preoccupation, just a reminder of how he is not human enough, nor deserving of a name.
~~~~~
He had then thought back to a letter he had once written, after a harsh day. The sun was shining, but soon to be setting, the grass was soaked and sticky. The bright green of the field was covered in kids walking and chittering amongst themselves. From the field, near the farm, was shown distant darkened windows that led into the orphanage library. There at the bottom of a dusty and damaged shelf, containing roughed up books of all sizes and shapes, was a tiny boy, at the age of 13.
He would shake whenever he had tried to sit still, his hands and spine trembled as he sat to move. The metal of screws and nails zapping him as his finger brushed them, no memory of why ever so. There in his pale hands was a small, new book, yet despite how old it was, the boy had read it dozens of times. It was his favorite. He had read through his bruised eyes from a recent beating. And wished to write a letter to its author.
Dear Nakajima Atsushi,
I have read your recent book, 'The Moon Over the Mountain' many times. Something about this book makes me want to read it night after night. Do you mind, if I ask, someone nameless like me, if I could have yours. I live in an orphanage, with no parents and no name, but I wish to have one like yours.
Written from a fan,
There he had written in his shivered hands, in messy kanji on unfolded paper He had left the ending sincerity empty. As he had licked up the folder, he had sent it off in the mail box far in the outside of the building where the sleeping and dreaming children lay restless, at the brisk of night, a moon empty sky, and a cloud filled dark.
He had then been given a letter in reply only a few weeks to follow, one he was not expecting to receive. He wouldn't have thought the author would have been given his letter, not would he want to read it at all. But in fact he did, and had also written a reply.
The mailman had appeared before the gates, hidden beyond in fog was the orphanage, yet peaking through was the pale boy. Reaching for the letter to read who the sender was. As he recognized the lettering, he had run back to the room towered of books,
He sat crisscrossed in the same spot of the library where he had written his letter. On it wrote the author's name in such a carefully constructed signature. There he had taken his response and as carefully as he could, releasing its contents from a line of tape.
There it contained the words of a pleased writer, despite such a sad story, such a sentiment reply was given, there the white haired boy was given a name. There he had seen at the top of the page, "Dear, Atsushi Nakajima"
He had felt the tears from his eyes fall. It stained his hands as his head was drooped over his legs and the letter. He attempted to stop in hopes of not making noises as a result of catching the attention of anyone. He would never tell the others his name, a punishment would follow, but he had a name, just like the rest of the children, like the beings of this world. The one he now lives in.
He had lifted the note, his eyes had shined with a new light, as he became a real person. He's almost human. He would treasure such a paper forever, his most prized possession he'd ever have in all his life. He would only be able to use the name with himself and only. Yet the light of the sunrise shined through the window, the orange light beaming through the paper, and the boy felt happiness for the first time in his life.
~~~~~
"My..my name is Atsushi Nakajima" he walked behind Akutagawa, his head facing the floor, the blood that warmed his face had lessened. "Well...Nakajima, you shall be my subordinate, starting today, you will join the Mafia. This will become your life forever and more, you will never be allowed to take this back." The voice had become deep, there was a darkness behind, emotion hadn't been there. A shake had hidden itself at the end, as the last phrase spoken was quieter than the rest.
Akutagawa stared back at Atsushi's leg, the one still chained, "Do you wish to keep that shackle attached or leave it on?" Emotion returning, he added a light sarcasm in his statement, it had regained the others' eyes upon him. Atsushi had shook his head. "Rashomon" Akutagawa had whispered as he covered a cough with his thin hand. Summoning the shadowed monster, streaming fast towards Atsushi's ankle cutting the metal constraint. Jumping, what was that?
They had walked to an empty vehicle, the orphanage being consumed by mistake. No one was near as it was a private mission on Akutagawa's behalf. Sent out all alone with only transport, he then beckoned Atsushi to sit in the passenger seat, opening the door for him. He had then turned to the drivers, placing in the key by the wheel and driving off.
He seemed uncomfortable when I had brought up his chains, a touchy subject. Why was he so interested? Yet why would such a place chain down a child... A child? "How old are you?" The first conversation in the quiet air of the car, other than the engine pushing the vehicle with a loud noise, the tires scratching at the mud beneath.
"Oh, I am 15 as of today.." He had given a smile to the driver. "Happy Birthday then." Akutagawa responded quickly. Then this would be a more memorable day, joining the Mafia on your birthday. "Thank you." Atsushi had giggled a bit from the speedy response. He had looked through the window, at the side mirror, far behind was the orphanage. It's all behind him now.
"How old are you?" Atsushi turned his face to the driver. "You seem a bit young to drive, y'know?" Hoping that the comment would keep the conversation light. Yet a bit furrowed, "I am 15, and am responsible enough to drive, no matter my age." I guess since the Mafia doesn't exactly follow the law, why would they be driving ages.. Atsushi thought to himself.
"What was that thing that had shown up? The red glowing thingy I mean.." Atsushi had pondered on it for a bit. "That is my special ability, her name is Rashomon." That had confused Atsushi even more. "What does your 'ability' do exactly?" "She is a void that can transform my clothes into a hardened fabric to simply say." Atsushi stared at the coat, then back to Akutagawa, "...What is an ability?"
Reaching a red light, Akutagawa had a time where he could now look Atsushi straight in the face, it was a dusty face, he had a curiosity. "An ability is a power that a select few people have."
Akutagawa resumed the car as the light had turned its glowing emerald, drops of rain had started to resume, pattering the windshield. As they were nearing buildings, Akutagawa hadn't stopped the car until they had made a turn to a motel. As they had parked in front of the door, Akutagawa had removed the keys and opened the door, waiting for Atsushi to join him outside before locking the vehicle.
As he reached into a pocket, he was then greeted with his room keys. Earlier, before the mission, Akutagawa had registered at a motel for a room, planning to rest there a bit before he left, and after his success, using it also as a place to leave some items. He had then been reminded as he flicked on the lights of the small room. A singular bed.
It was all quiet, even the rain had been avoided for a moment. Then a shocked Atsushi red to the bone, as his hands flayed in the air, Akutagawa stood a bit ahead, his mouth being covered by his hand, hiding the little blush that rose under the white of his foundation.
"You may take the side near the wall..I will take the other." He had spoken in as calm of a tone as he could, walking to a briefcase on a chair in another corner of the room. There he pulled out two shirts and pants, tossing them over to Atsushi who barely caught it, and was still red, but not as much as he was prior. "I hope you don't expect to sleep in those distasteful rags alongside me." Atsushi, looking down, had now regained the relieved heat of his cheeks, not due to the flustering of the situation, but this time due to his appearance, the embarrassment of his dirt ripped clothes.
"I.. I'll change in here while you go change in the bathroom.." He was looking away from the grey eyes that he had made a quick contact with. "Or perhaps you would like to shower?" Akutagawa had decided to respond with instead. Atsushi had then realized he was still covered in soot from the explosion. "Ah.. yeah I probably should, uh, go take one.." Atsushi had then walked past Akutagawa, facing the floor below as he made his way to the tub.
Akutagawa had rested on the bed, thinking over what had happened in this past hour, honing in on the noise from the contact the rain is making with the outside surroundings. Why did I allow that boy to join me, to be my subordinate, I have yet to be fully prepared and trained. And why...why do I care so much?
Thoughts had been interrupted as Atsushi had made his way out of the shower. His hair now clean as well as his face free from the ashes of the explosion. Dry blood rinsed away, returning to the main room in a fresh white top, accompanied with black pants. Brushing his hair back and out of his face, he made his way to his given side of the bed. Akutagawa had risen to take his term in the powdery, taking some supplies out of his brief case before walking in and locking the door behind.
As Akutagawa had stood before the mirror, he had first begun cleaning his face with makeup wipes, leaving his face bare before he took a shower. In comparison to Atsushi's quick wash, Akutagawa had taken his time to thoroughly cleanse himself. Dressing in a black semi-transparent robe flowing to his ankles, he had fixed the sleeves, the black fur warming his collar and wrists. He wore shorts underneath the robe, tying it around his slim waist, hiding his chest.
As he walked out of the restroom, he was accompanied with faint lights. The brightest light being the clock, reading 0:42. They would now have to face the most hardest ordeal of their day. Sharing a bed. As Akutagawa moved to lay on the queen, Atsushi had started sputtering, "I could just sleep on the floor y'know! We don't have to share the.."
"Don't make this a bigger situation than it is, all we are doing is simply getting rest on the same piece of mattress. Don't tell me you truly detest wanting to share a bed together that much." Akutagawa made a quick response, interrupting Atsushi's panic.
"Inclusively, it is a cold night, I doubt you won't freeze your limbs off in this cold without the only blanket, and do not expect me to donate it all completely." Akutagawa had then beckoned Atsushi to come forth. He had started to lay, very awkwardly albeit, but the irrelevant blabbering had taken its leave. Akutagawa and Atsushi took their lull of night, resting after the extensive hours. Losing their thought to the blank subconscious.
~~~~~
Atsushi had felt a tickle to his nose, something that was soft and light. He had then gruffled as he felt the movement of his surface. More stuff had continued to tickle him, from his shoulder to his wrists. He had then heard a grumble. It was until then he realized he was sleeping with someone else.
Discontinued!