blood money || YANDERE!Chuuya Nakahara

Eleven: Vision.

You're deployed, by Chuuya himself, to the front lines of the Port Mafia offence team when they spot someone through the binoculars. You're standing next to him; your pistol strapped to your thigh, alongside a serrated knife strapped to the other.

The intercom in your ear buzzes.

"A blond child."

You can hear Chuuya click his tongue. You glance at him in your peripherals. To be quite honest, you didn't want to be here.

Boss be damned.

Each step he takes breaks the ground and creates a crater. Chuuya; vessel of Arahabaki.

"Report. it's not just the child. Kunikida, the weretiger."

He pauses.

"Almost the entirety of the Detective Agency's main force is defending the hospital room!"

"What? They're going full force already?" Chuuya exclaims.

You tut, "All the tricks up their sleeve in one go?" You're crossing your arms and shaking your head, "I wonder how that feels. Defending someone so valiantly like that."

"Tch. We'll respond with our own top men. Send Akutagawa and the Black Lizard team over from the perimeter team!"

You infiltrate the Agency hallway with ease.

"Want to do this one by one?" Chuuya asks. His hat brim conceals an eye; he's eyeing them one by one, gauging their worth by their power, "Or should we all go at it at once? Well?" He grits his teeth, "I don't mind either way."

The members begin to disintegrate into green particles.

"Huh?! An ability to produce illusions?" Chuuya stands up, the bones in his knees cracking as he stretches from his position off the floor.

"Kenji broke through the wall and took the president. The President and the Agency members already left a long time ago," The boy says. His eyes are unwavering, despite being outnumbered. He knows of his own fate, and you admire him for it.

"You sacrificed your life to deceive the ambush and give others time to escape," Akutagawa says, his hands in his pocket. You slowly applaud him.

"How noble of you. As expected from the Armed Agency," You say; your clapping comes to an abrupt cease as you watch him raise his hands up in surrender.

"I haven't sacrificed my life. Ranpo has a message for you: Capture the one who made the virus."

"Alright, search him," Chuuya gestures to you, and you snap the rope in your hand like a belt.

"Turn around, boy," You say, violently lurching him backwards so that you could tie the rope around him. Once he was in bondage, you kick him to a chair, and he lets out a stifled yelp as he crashes onto the cushions, "What's your name?"

"I don't want to speak with a Port Mafioso if I have the choice," He snaps, and you roll your eyes.

"Jeez, fine."

"Don't get too acquainted, (first name)." Chuuya warns. His eyes are narrowed and dangerous, almost possessive as though there was a sense of a collar leash around your neck with simply just his words. There was a weight, a heaviness to his words that denoted handfuls of mine; proprietary, "Come with me; we're to be at the front lines. With Akutagawa."

"Nah," You wave him off, "You go on ahead."

"What? That's an order! Come with me!"

"I'd stay here with Hirotsu; they need my help," You continue to wave him off. He clicks his tongue.