Chapter Text
“Dazai, why can’t you be serious, just for once?” Kunikida grabbed the man, dragging him away from the poor woman, to whom he was about to offer a double suicide. Atsushi and Ranpo were away, doing crime investigation (with Atsushi’s involvement being mostly limited to guiding Ranpo through the public transport and stopping culprits the detective pissed off from murdering him). So it was up to him and Dazai to find the rumored potentially gifted, before Port Mafia got to them.
From what Agency gathered from witness statements, the mysterious person appeared two days ago in a bright flash of white light, scaring the passerbys. A woman present at the scene described that he was a tall man of European descent with short brown hair and eyes of the same color, casually dressed in a plain grey t-shirt and shorts. He looked around startled and seemingly confused no less than witnesses, before asking the woman where he was in the perfect Japanese. When she replied: “In Yokohama,” cautiously, he muttered something too quiet for her to hear and dazedly walked away.
He was a mystery, a potentially powerful foreign gifted that could become either a friend or a foe. With that said, Dazai’s lackluster behavior and nonchalance was pissing Kunikida off to the point the pen he held was starting to creak, threatening to break.
“He probably didn’t intend to end up here, and cameras caught him going to the train station yesterday evening. Therefore, there is a high chance that he either decided to make his way to wherever he came from by train, in which case we likely won’t find him, or he had no place to stay and decided to spend the night there.” Kunikida, who was previously writing possible options down in a notebook raised his head to see Dazai completely not pay attention, eyeing a bulk dreamily. That damned bondage squandering machine!
“Have you paid attention to a single thing I said?!”
“Relax, Kunikida-kun, don’t stress so much, or you are going to go grey before you’re even thirty,” Dazai said, shrugging shoulders with a mocking smile. The pen (fourth one this week) finally shattered in Kunikida’s grasp as he fumed and cursed his partner internally, as he dragged the man out of the cafe.
The central train station, which was gloriously standing in the middle of the city, was busy and full of people hurrying to get on and off their trains. It was a Friday evening, hard to find busier time. If the man returned here to sleep, he would likely be in the waiting rooms, where tired travelers awaited their departure and homeless slept for the lack of a better shelter. There was also a chance that the man would react hostilely to him and Dazai approaching him, which bothered Kunikida to no end. They were in a densely crowded area, people were packed like sardines. While Dazai’s nullification ability was immensely useful, just how many people could get affected by the mysterious man’s power before Dazai cancelled it?
Meanwhile, Dazai, who was strolling slightly ahead of Kunikida, had some thoughts of his own. The situation wasn’t even that curious or particularly dangerous. Truthfully, the man was either inexperienced with his ability or was subjected to someone else’s ability.
The automatic doors of a waiting room opened with a quiet ‘huff’ and Dazai scanned appearance of every single person the in matter of seconds, finding the man matching their description. He was sitting in the corner, engulfed in whatever was in his phone, but as Dazai took a step towards him, he seemingly felt the pair’s presence. Their eyes locked.
Slight shivers ran down Dazai’s spine, and was that a feeling he hadn’t experienced in the long time. Not since he worked under Mori. It was like he was being seen, intimately and completely. As if the man in front of him knew all that made Dazai himself. How he went through life with a crafted smile and faux-relaxed demeanor. How he fooled around, annoying Kunikida and whoever else was present for his performances, but still got the job done by the end of the day. How bandages that covered half of his body laid as a comforting presence that grounded him and how sometimes he struggled to get out of bed and his whole body ached.
”I should have honestly expected them to show up, considering my luck,” the man groaned to himself. So he was expecting someone to find him, Dazai’s lips curled, past shock easily concealed. But whom, Armed Detective Agency specifically or other ability users in general?
“We are from the Armed Detective Agency, and I believe you may know something about an anomaly that occurred, hm, give or take two days ago. You seem like someone who needs a good meal, so how about a little deal: you tell us how you ended up here and Kunikida over there pays for your meal. Sounds like a sweat deal, right?” Dazai said with the most innocent tone. Somewhere behind Kunikida, who was trying to maneuver through the crowd, shouted: “Stop paying for people’s meals with my money, you leach!” Which got him a couple of curious looks.
The man rose from his seat, his expression neutral. “Well, I am stranded in a foreign country with nothing of my own, so I might as well agree. Danny Mo— ah, I’m in Japan, so Motta Danny. Pleasure to meet you.”
“Dazai Osamu, and here is my partner Kunikida Doppo,” said partner only sighed with exasperation, probably calculating how much he was going to spend on feeding a stranger this time. Atsushi’s tower of plates and the subsequent cost was probably haunting Kunikida in nightmares.
The man followed Dazai and Kunikida dutifully to the little homey cafe. And while Kunikida was constantly strained, prepared to catch a man if he tried to run (after all, he agreed suspiciously easily to follow strangers to an unknown location), Dazai knew that this Motta guy was unlikely to try to get away. Cornered people tended to lash out or try to escape, but Dazai’s trained eye could see the way Motta held himself. The man believed that he wasn’t in any immediate danger.
The quaint place met them, as expected it was nearly empty even in a rush hour. While they were awaiting Motta’s order, Kunikida started probing man, asking him questions. Sometimes he answered at the same moment, others he hesitated a bit, as if calculating what he should and shouldn’t reveal. Kunikida had probably picked up on that fact too.
“How had you gotten here?”
“I have no idea, one moment I was at my home in USA, the next I was blinded by light and appeared on some Japanese street.” That was a… truth. So not his ability? Was it an accident or was he targeted by someone?
“What’s your ability?”
“It’s called… ‘Mockery From the Observer’. I can attain random information from the person I look at, as long as they’re a gifted.” This time reply came off less confident, and Dazai knew that the man wasn’t telling the whole truth. Not that he blamed Motta, telling strangers, even those that appeared kind, full extent of one’s ability was a risky decision, but it still raised some red flags regarding what he could hide. An ability giving its user knowledge that required no physical contact, he mused how did No Longer Human fare against it. Was it the prickling he felt when their eyes met? Had he cancelled it or had it pried information away from him?
“I wonder what you learned from me.” Dazai remarked casually, fishing for information, which Danny immediately shut off.
He sent a smile mirroring Dazai’s own. “That’s for me to know and for you to find out, crab boy.”
Dazai hummed nonchalantly, making it seem as if he was conceding, even though he got the answer he wanted, and proceeded to pull out ‘Complete Guide to Suicide’ out of the coat’s pocket. He schemed through the memorized lines, observing Motta’s face at the same time. The other man was staring at the book cover, slightly torn and discolored, people in generally often stared, when they noticed what he read.
“Interested? You might not be a pretty lady, but I wouldn’t mind doing a double suicide with you,” Motta snickered and Kunikida didn’t even dignify him with a remark.
“Why would you even need a guide for this? I feel like suicide is a pretty straightforward thing. Step one: kill yourself, step two: die.”
Dazai chuckled. “Ah, but I’m searching for the way to minimize pain and most methods are just too painful. Besides, I don’t want to inconvenience people you know,” Dazai pouted dramatically. Motta only raised an eyebrow at his attics.
”Couldn’t have guessed with how much you talk about it.”
“Motta-san, do you have any idea, who could have brought you here?” Kunikida had cling in, bringing conversation back into the route of questioning.
Danny pushed away an empty plate before answering: “If only. I have no idea how or who teleported me here, and I’m afraid getting home is going to be… challenging.”
Oh. Dazai had an idea. “So you have nowhere to stay at the moment?”
Oh no. Danny Motta, an exasperated youtuber stuck in another universe, knew what was about to happen. This was going to be a disaster, isn’t it? At least it was better than dealing with Port Mafia? Who was he kidding, if he was sticking with the Armed Detective Agency, he will have to deal with Mafia. He was a man with nowhere to go and he had just lied about having an ability straight to Dazai’s face. Really, he either got incredibly lucky or dug his own grave, and only time was going to tell which one it was.