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It was no secret that the Armed Detective Agency had the right side of the law on their minds, and everyone except for perhaps Kunikida, liked to deploy creative methods as to righting the balance within Yokohama.
In particular, that is to say, few of them had qualms about breaking the law. Atsushi, the timid one himself, met Dazai planning to rob him blind. In the end, he’d been too distracted by his strong moral conscious to rob a drowning man, but the thought still made him chuckle.
Ranpo was a fiend of society, too focused on his praise kink and glorification he took out on him to get involved with Yokohama’s underbelly too deeply. He allowed it, if only out of indulgence for his son.
The Tanizaki siblings…well enough was said about them. Even poor Kenji, a country bumpkin, cared little for the law in that his favorite pastime was the destruction of public property.
He thought his property damage bills might even rival the famed Soukoku ones, piled up as they were on his desk. Although he supposed, physical strength had its limits while gravity was infinite. How Mori’d managed to keep his half of the city intact in their prime, he didn’t want to know.
Ahh Mori. Yosano and Dazai were their own animals, due to him, but their hold on morals was even looser, to say the most he would.
Still, Fukuzawa found himself worrying, as one in his position should. While he loved his family he never expected them to all be so…prolific in their romantic disputes. Or at least not quite so problematic. He was worrying that he had no choice but poor Kunikida as his successor.
Not that he wasn’t suited to it. But by some turn of fate, he was the one who kept his…well who didn’t see enemy lines as the perfect place to parade himself. Fukuzawa rubbed at the tension in his face.
He was starting to worry there wasn’t any room for more enemy factions with how quickly his charges filled their beds with them.
What had he done to earn these bright, bright children, who, at the sight of the enemy, found it ripe for matchmaking?
Well, he supposed he knew exactly who he’d done.
Not that it was all a surprise.
He’d known about Soukoku when he took Dazai in. Given his and Rintarou’s failed partnership, he’d felt fear and sorrow for the boy. That is, until he met the cataclysm of burning energy that was Nakahara Chuuya.
He knew none of the restraint that characterized the three of them, none of their pause. He burned with a bright loyalty, even if it was misplaced, and it warmed his heart to know he would burn this city to the ground for Dazai. For the very reason his twisted love failed, Nakahara-kun embodied a striking figure who’d never pause his raging heart, the consequences be damned.
Dazai thought enough for the both of them anyway. But the world needed people like that, so fierce and loyal to their hearts.
Even he envied him that fierceness he hadn’t been able to conjure himself when it might’ve made the difference.
So he just watched with hope. He knew of Dazai’s plans to have Nakahara join the agency and he thought the more that the executive uncovered about the mafia, the sooner it would come. Even despite the deal he’d struck.
In truth, he might have let the Agency end then and there if it hadn’t been for the existence of Nakahara-kun.
If Rintarou didn’t watch himself, he would find his end similarly to the previous boss. Fukuzawa hoped for a world where Dazai did not have to fill those shoes, no he wanted better for him. But there was something about the black of the mafia, of the murder and blood-filled life, that drug you under.
He knew that neither he nor his charges who’d lived through it would ever recover fully. So, it would come down to Mori’s sense of preservation. If he insisted on asking for his chess piece back, even with the vampirism running rampant in his own house.
In the end, if Ranpo didn’t like it he himself would discharge the deal. His prideful, selfish boy. He wouldn’t let his friend go, not when he’d longed for someone like Dazai for so long. He wouldn’t let Dazai slip back.
What he’d done to earn him he’d never know.
Although, with Mori and Fyodor, even his Ranpo might be outmaneuvered. He’d still have Edgar even if Dazai left them. And although he’d met him infrequently Fukuzawa trusted Nakahara-kun. He knew Ranpo did too, even Akiko couldn’t hide her affection for him.
No, Nakahara-kun wouldn’t let Dazai become what he’d been under Mori. Not a second time.
There was regret there, for focusing on Ranpo and Akiko so much he’d let those two slip into the dark. The dark that swallowed more and more from Atsushi’s boy to even sweet Kyouka.
He hoped he’d get the chance to offer the boy trying so hard to be human, even in the mafia renowned for his leadership and care, a shot at it. But best not to be greedy. Fukuzawa didn’t consider himself like Mori. No, he’d never force someone to join him.
But as he couldn’t imagine a better match between Corruption and No Longer Human, what he couldn’t give to Dazai, All Men could grant to Nakahara-kun. The chance to be just that.
A desk clattered as his excited office piped up again. A normal occurrence he thought, sipping his tea. He could hear them, just beyond the door teasing each other. Never had he expected the government to give him such a brilliant mind, such a match for Ranpo who was always so utterly bored.
It put him at peace to hear those two bickering like the children they never really got to be.
Ranpo.
He loved the boy more than words. More his blood than anyone he’d shared it with. He had less cause to worry there.
Like Nakahara-kun, Edgar was quite obsessed with his prodigy. He was happy that there was someone to challenge Ranpo and he’d noticed the genre’s shifting during their challenges. The puzzles those boys got up to…maybe he should give Ranpo a talk about safety during scenes?
Akiko’d likely beat him to it, with how protective she was of him.
Perhaps the most problematic of his children’s relationships was hers.
He knew she’d taken up with Kouyou, a strong ally of Mori’s. He knew her, of her past and he’d felt for her, when the old boss had punished her foolish heart. She cared for Yosano, even though she sat by the side of his abuser.
But Kouyou was a strange thing, keeping incidents like Dazai’s from repeating. Nakahara-kun and Kyouka-chan, who he thought of like a granddaughter, were alive and not quite so…well like Dazai in the worst of ways because of her.
Akiko could handle herself, although he always stopped by with tea when she sat in her office on those late nights if Ranpo hadn’t beat him to it. He knew she worried, could see no future for them despite their love.
He hoped Kouyou would succeed Rintarou, when it came to that, as it would. She would be fairer, to the people Mori left behind so frequently. He was not blind to what made Akiko so entranced by her. Alas, that also made his heart ache for them.
For she and Kouyou shared the hesitant restraint that had doomed Rintarou and him both, the specific kind Edgar and Nakahara-kun lacked completely.
Although Edgar had left the guild without a second thought.
Perhaps. Perhaps.
Then there was their newest one, who Dazai was trying to transform into the next generation with. New guardians of Yokohama. With the vampirism cured, they were given a second chance and he never thought he’d see simple Atsushi-kun, so nervous and unsure, pursue someone so reverently. It warmed his heart.
He’d noticed Kenji-kun tagging along, looking bashfully at the blonde always with Akutagawa. A child's crush, but precious in its own way. He gave a heavy sigh leaning back into his chair. Anywhere but the Port Mafia would have been a better choice.
He wished he’d spent more time on sexual education, a thought that would have his younger self cringing he imagined. Who would have thought detectives could be so provocative? Perhaps it was some affection he couldn’t comprehend
Maybe he should’ve started a nunnery instead. For both his sanity and their poorly-guarded hearts.
He couldn’t imagine all these loves, some fragile and young, some old and flickering, blooming successfully. Nonetheless, he’d watch over them.
His family.
He felt those familiar eyes and heard the soft footprints pad into his office.
“Good evening, sensei,” he cheered, pouring a bit of tea into a saucer for him. The cat just meowed, sprawling out on his desk. He gave a deep chuckle.
“This old one is thinking too hard I know,” he said softly. Laughter could be heard and the sound warmed his heart. “Although I suppose there’s no harm in hoping for the future,” he smiled, petting the cat as it purred.
Quiet nights like this, with them, so close made him both ache for the past and fear for the future when one day they wouldn’t all be able to gather again.
It was true in their line of work that a day without one of them would come to pass, as tragedy always did. Their hearts were far too large, reaching and touching so many people, longing for connection even where they shouldn’t.
It would be impossible to save them from pain, but they’d weather it together.
The cat swiped at his phone and Fukuzawa saw it light up. He didn’t need to read the message to know who’d come calling.
They did this every so often. Even now, after so many years. He’d never let him touch him again, no matter how he longed for it, not after what he’d done to the children.
But the three of them could have a glass of sake for old times sake, although the doctor always brought his own vintage.
They’d talk about nothings and act like neither of them knew the treachery their charges were up to in the night.
Mori said nothing to his executives about carting agency members into the mafia buildings throughout all hours of the night.
Fukuzawa said nothing about how the agency dorm windows tended to be left open on especially cold nights as if waiting for strays.
He wondered if his heart ached, as his did, seeing them? Leaving his office, he could see through the window. Ahh, a rare night when they were all in instead of on their various…escapades.
They’d had the beginnings of some nefarious scheme on the whiteboard, drinking their poisons of choice. Dazai’d grown to taking up on their drinking circles, much to Ranpo’s delight. Atsushi and Kyouka sat in the corner, playing a game as Kunikida tried to stop the two geniuses advising them.
“It’ll just turn into madness, let them learn!” He yelled.
“Oooooh Kunikidda ever the sensei,” Dazai moaned “But really, Kyouka-dear I would-“ he started.
“A fool's move! Don’t listen to him Kyouka, no, no your queen,” Ranpo started, reaching for the pieces.
“Both of you stop! I’m not getting any advice!” Atsushi groaned.
“Oh dear Atsushi, if my protege is in such mortal peril of course I could offer a boon,” Dazai said, grinning. He smiled as he made his way down the room. Yosano was scribbling something intently as Kunkika yelled at them both. She’d had some breakthrough he could tell by her wild grin. Or perhaps too much to drink.
“I said stop!” He roared and Kenji just looked between the two of them intently giggling.
Such bright, bright children, he thought as he padded down to the door. Ranpo poked his head out.
“Leaving so soon?” He asked. Then he grinned that lopsided way, “Enjoy your moon watching!” Of course, he always knew. He gave him a small wave as he made his exit.
It was a familiar walk to a familiar place, and sometimes he could imagine all the years falling off as he made the trek to an old friend that he trusted even now.
Not for everything, no, not after all the damage he’d done in the name of love.
"Ah Yukichi, what a lovely night. Nice to see you too, sensei," that deep timbre and violet eyes greeted him. He gave a soft smile.
"Truly, a lovely night Rintarou," he said taking the cup he'd been offered. He trusted him enough, even after he'd lost a piece of himself to him he'd never recover. For the most important thing--that one thing that made his heart pound just a little bit harder for what might have been as he imagined that face as it once was, without all the lines and a carefree smile.
To always, always protect this city.