Four: Escape, Denied.

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"Pardon?"

Your eyes are wide with disbelief, looking down at the paper in your hands that was stamped with DENIED. A mission request to be sent out into Switzerland for months for money laundering DENIED. You look up and down at the Boss, finding his violet eyes to be infuriating in the face of being denied. He has a smile hidden behind his laced fingers, the blood red scarf over his shoulder waterfalling down to his chest. Elise is on the floor colouring her drawings in, her cheerful mumblings going unnoticed by the two of you.

"I refuse to send you out onto another foreign mission," He says, slowly, meticulously.

"But why?" You scrunch up the paper in your strong hands. "Why?"

"For one," He counts down on his gloved hand, "You missed all the fun with the Guild's involvement."

"I would argue it was not fun at all, Boss," You interject. Your voice is filled with ice, a hidden defiance. "There were casualties that cannot be counted even with two hands."

"That is true," He admits. There is sour dismay on his face. "But you missed it. To my greatest disappointments. You would have fared well in stopping the Guild, alongside the Armed Detective Agency."

"I have no desire to camaraderie with them, Boss."

"As such with Mafioso members," He sighs. "Two, it is important for one of the Port Mafia's executives to be well accustomed to the missions held in Japan."

"But—"

"I will take nothing but a yes from you, (First name)." His voice drops in temperature. You immediately tighten your lips shut, eyes dipping in acknowledgement of his authority. Then his face softens, like an angry sky opening. "It is difficult for you. I'm aware. But you are an executive now. You are no longer the little girl that you were so many years back."

You sigh. "I find comfort in being away from Japan. It is a vocation for me."

"I'm well aware. But you must overcome that obstacle," He says, handing you a fresh sheet of paper. You take it into your own hands, eyes scanning it swiftly and resisting the urge to crumple it between your fingers. "You'll be sent out with one of our executives for this mission."

"Which one?"

"Chuuya. Dazai has long defected," Mori says, smiling at you with his eyes closed. You blink, bringing your hands to your back and locking them together.

"Has he?"

"I remember I telephoned you about it years back," He reminisces, voice pitching in remembrance. Strands of his dark hair fell over his face, only further curtaining what was already hidden behind that pale facade of his. "Do you remember?"

"I do. I was in Germany at that time," You say. You remember; how it was news amongst the Port Mafia, following a man named Oda Sakunosuke's death, that Dazai Osamu had defected, went underground for two years, before emerging out to the Armed Detective Agency. It was shocking, yet you had taken the news with a balletic grace, as though you had expected this, like everything was a game. In reality, you did not care. You never cared much about the other executives; you were on your own. "You asked me if he would have kept your coat after defection."

Boss sighs. "It turns out he burnt it."

"Tragic."

"Regardless," He says. "I'll always have a spot open for Dazai if he were to return to the Port Mafia. Alongside you and Chuuya, we would be unstoppable."

The door closes behind you.

"Ah," Chuuya greets you with a smirk on his face with his arms crossed over his chest, long legs stretched out below him with his hat poised to cast a shadow over his eyes. "If it isn't the murderous princess herself."

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