Reprieve From Eternity

Prologue : A Tomorrow That Should Never Come : Part Two

June 14th 2005, Armed Detective Agency, Yokohama.

The sun rose above the horizon of Yokohama port. Rays of light shining against the reddish-brown bricks of the five story building. Bustling with activity, the heavy smell of early morning coffee was carried from the homey cafe on the ground floor by the fishy breeze. The law firm above, a silent ghost town together with the vacant second (third for Americans) floor. A soft reluctance hovering in the air as the day breaks.

Contrary to this softness, a tangible tension occupied the building's third floor. An office for a more eccentric cast, the Armed Detective Agency. What should be a vacant floor was instead occupied by a less than welcome group, the Port Mafia.

"Why the hell are we here so fucking early?" A petite, hot-headed red-head many would recognize as Nakahara Chuuya growled, irritation littering his figure as he paced. A soft red glow flickering around him as he attempted to reign in his temper. Subconsciously, he gravitated towards the desk of a certain someone in his anxiousness.

Planting the heel of his boot into the tile as he leaned against the hard surface, his other foot bounced impatiently. "Those bastards aren't even here!" Chuuya snarled, fingers gripping the cool surface behind him. He ignored the soft creaking strain of the wood.

"Our orders were to promptly meet Hirotsu at the Agency." The stern leveled voice of the Port Mafia's second in command, Ozaki Kouyou, resounded across the room, not at all muffled by the dividers surrounding the reception space. She watched with disconnected interest as the Black-Fanged Hellhound, Akutagawa Ryūnosuke, disappeared into the small kitchenette. "You ought to calm yourself, Chuuya. Why don't you come sit with us?"

"Ha," The petite mafioso took a deep breath, struggling as he loosened his grip. The red glow around him faded. He hesitated to leave the desk but made his way back to the couches, slouching gracelessly beside her. Lowering his head into his hands, he massaged his head, trying to will away his headache, ignoring the assassin, Gin, across from him. "Sorry Ane-san. It's just..."

"It's fine, Chuuya. Hirotsu-san was very vague in his reasoning." She paused as a hint of peppermint reached her nose, Akutagawa returning from the kitchens, tray in hand. "Oh, I wasn't aware you knew how to make tea, Akutagawa."

"I prefer coffee, so it is not something I do often now." The boy nodded as he set it against the coffee table. "May I offer you some tea?"

"Yes, thank you for the tea, Akutagawa." With a polite smile, she accepted a cup of hot tea. Taking in the soothing scent of peppermint, a more nostalgic smile spread across her face. "Why is it you made Peppermint Tea, Akutagawa?"

The boy paused at the inquiry, seeming to hesitate. A hint of red could be seen traveling up the tips of his ears.

"Ha!" Chuuya scoffed, a scowl returning to his face, though he too felt a twinge in his heart at the familiar smell. "Not much of a choice! Two of the three kinds of tea he knows how to make, make you sleepy."

"Oi! Are you not gonna give me a cup?" Chuuya bristled in annoyance as the boy dodged him.

"Hmm." Akutagawa hummed. Ignoring him, he took a seat beside his sister and offered her the cup. "Dazai-san often drank them, so I asked Hirotsu to teach me."

Accepting a cup of her own, Gin snickered as she lowered her mask. "He was horrible at it. Hirotsu would usually throw him out of the kitchen. Afterwards Ryū would practice for hours at home. The apartment was smothered in that minty smell for an entire year, not to mention Ryū."

Akutagawa leveled his sister with a glare, his cheeks tinted pink. "Dazai-san was very pleased with my tea."

"He was until you spilled it all over him." Snatching Akutagawa's tea, Chuuya snorted. The memory was vivid within his mind. Looking at the whiskey colored tea before him, his scowl melted. The cool warm mint liquid flowing smoothly down his throat, his tense muscles relaxing minutely with a sigh. "It's that damn Mackerel's favorite."