Emotions [Dazai x Reader] ✓

3 | First job

I had been following Mori around for the best of a handful of minutes, being shown around the offices and rooms I should acquaint with to ensure I did not get lost in case of emergency or was looking for a specific staff member in case I must discuss case matters with them. 'I'll put you under Chuuya's supervision; he can be a little difficult sometimes, but you'll get used to it.' He opened the door for me to be greeted by an empty office. 'He should be here soon. Make yourself at home,'

He closed the door behind me as soon as I stepped in, and the expectancy of being locked in by the boss himself was never met. Maybe I am not being held hostage after all, huh?

The office was small, only containing the basics. The wooden desktop was covered in a thin layer of dust, suggesting that my superior was not regularly present in his office as he perhaps was expected to be. The leather chair had not been facing the desk, nor tucked under it, in which I assumed to have been left like so as a result of a rush - or he was just generally messy. I walked towards it and held the back of it, tucking it slowly under the desk so no noise would be made.

The door opened gradually, the figure of a small, hesitant man showing from behind it. From the description provided, I could identify this to have been Chuuya, my superior.

His ginger hair was combed messily over his eyes and held back in a low, slick growing ponytail, his head was sheltered by a black fedora with a red sash enveloped around it. His cool blue eyes travelled from the floor towards me, stopping for a couple of seconds to analyse my presence.

'[Y/N], is it?' I nodded. 'I'm guessing you already know who I am. They've already assigned a job for you.'

He opened the door further so that it no longer stood only ajar, indicating that whatever job I had been assigned had no business whatsoever in his office. I followed out, walking cautiously behind him.

'What should I address you by?'

'What did Mori describe me as?'

I hesitated. 'A short man with orange -'

'I am not short!' he let out furiously, stopping in his tracks and accidentally making me bump into him. 'I'm still growing.' he muttered, thrusting his fists into his trousers' pockets.

He looked back at me as I looked at my hand, reading the emotions he'd felt at that precise moment - my hand had brushed against the skin of his palm when I ran into him; above all anger seemed to have taken lead, which I could assume to have been a result of the offensive truth told. 'I'm sorry for offending you,'

'I'm not offended,' he looked away and continued leading the way. 'Call me Chuuya. Just Chuuya.'

I kept following him silently, trying to map the way we'd taken in my head. He'd not told me our destination, but from the path, I could assume we'd be heading towards the Port Mafia's basement as we climbed down stone steps.

The scent of spilt blood invaded the scene, oddly familiar. By the end of the room were five men chained up by heavy, rusty cuffs, each having been gifted a bruise or two on their bare arms or torso.

Before they stood who I identified to be Dazai, waiting patiently for either man to start spilling useful intel.

'Don't get too close to him,' Chuuya whispered, a sound only audible for me to hear despite the deafening silence of the room. 'His idiot might rub off on you if he touches you.'

With that said he gave me a slight push forward in their direction, and the rest of the way I forced myself to stalk towards them.

'It's good to see you, [Y/N],' he greeted me as I stood by his side. I gave him a nod in response. 'Our guests are reluctant to give us the information we need. It's a shame no method of torture works either. They do say if a man doesn't speak after one nail's split, they won't after the whole hand is tampered with.'