Chapter 42
“Ahem.” Sensing something was off, Scotch, gripping the steering wheel, coughed.
“What’s wrong, Hiro?” Amuro Tooru spoke first.
He was completely unaware that he had just done something bad, his tone betraying nothing.
“Are you also sick?”
Scotch: “…”
Should he just let Matsuda deal with him?
Scotch was silent, thinking that his friend’s mental state was even more abnormal than when he first joined the organization. But this was also to be expected, since meeting Calvados, his and Zero’s lives had become way too colorful.
Of course, this wasn’t a derogatory term.
Scotch, seeing the dire situation of ordinary people in Yokohama, was even more determined to eradicate darkness.
Thinking of this, Scotch sighed.
“That’s enough, knowing too much isn’t good for him.”
Amuro Tooru: “Did you hear that, Calvados?”
Asuka Kazuya was still pondering the previous statement. Hearing his name, he subconsciously looked up and hummed in question.
“Because you usually spend too much time on other things, Hiro is worried your brain will crash from taking in new information.”
Scotch: “…”
Scotch: “I already said that’s not what I meant.”
And what new information? Calvados’s mission had nothing to do with this. Once his codename was mentioned, who besides Gin wasn’t afraid of him?
Scotch was sullen, expressing his dissatisfaction at being dragged into this: “Zero, you’re just angry because you heard about the guards being knocked out one after another, right?”
He didn’t give Amuro Tooru a chance to retort, stopping the car in front of a cafe: “Do you want sugar-free? I’ll go buy some.”
Then Scotch realized: “Forget it, whatever you want.”
The car door closed, shutting out the world.
Asuka Kazuya looked at Scotch’s back, vaguely realizing that Scotch was running away.
“I remember this cafe’s coffee is quite famous.”
He tried hard to find a topic, but Amuro Tooru, looking at him, inexplicably recalled the day he lay on the ground, silently covering his eyes.
“What were you thinking with that will?” Without Scotch’s interference, Amuro Tooru also dropped his smile, calmly settling old scores. “Leaving a message about Makino and running away, how long did you plan this?”
Amuro Tooru’s aura was a bit intimidating when he wasn’t smiling, but as he had just said, Asuka Kazuya wasn’t really scared of him.
The young man sat in his seat, thinking hard about this question: “Not long, I started remembering some things, then realized I felt like someone was watching me wherever I went.”
“Although I didn’t expect it to take so long… I originally planned for only three or four days, if I died, I wouldn’t come back.”
He spoke of death so casually that it was hard not to imagine the terrible days he had lived through.
“Don’t misunderstand,” seeing Amuro Tooru’s increasingly cold expression, Asuka Kazuya quickly added, “this is an old habit, the executive officer would ask us to write a will before missions, so we can leave a message for our families in case of an accident.”
Amuro Tooru was silent for a long while, then repeated,
“Family?”
“I used to write it for senpai,”
Asuka Kazuya recalled his childhood.
“I was supposed to give it to him after something happened, but senpai found it at the executive officer’s place later.”
Sakaguchi Ango’s expression at that time was similar to Bourbon’s. He calmly told him that such things should be written for more important people, but mid-sentence, Sakaguchi Ango paused as if realizing something.
He sighed, saying helplessly that he would keep the letters together and give them to others when needed.
Amuro Tooru understood the meaning of these words, finally asking patiently: “Then wouldn’t it be better to give it to that Chuuya?”
“…If I wrote it for Chuuya, he might lecture me before anything even happened.”
“Oh,” Amuro Tooru smiled, knowing there was a trap waiting for him. “So touching, Kazuya, so you think I wouldn’t lecture you, right?”
“…Not really,”
Asuka Kazuya whispered: “…A place like Yokohama, I thought you definitely wouldn’t come.”
Amuro Tooru’s smile was nuclear: “Is that so? I’m such a burden to you for not being an ability user.”
“?” Asuka Kazuya felt a chill down his spine, immediately explaining, “What does that have to do with anything? I didn’t even tell senpai about this plan.”
“Then what were you thinking?” Amuro Tooru asked patiently. “How would I know if you don’t tell me?”
“…If I told you, you definitely wouldn’t have let me do it.” Asuka Kazuya observed the changes in Amuro Tooru’s expression, organizing his words. “Dazai wouldn’t care if I lived or died, so it’s fine to tell Dazai.”
“…” Even Amuro Tooru couldn’t answer this.
He didn’t know whether to praise him for being simple-minded or for having an abnormal thought process.
“Forget it this time,”
After a few seconds of stalemate, Amuro Tooru compromised.
He looked away, not knowing why he was angry just now.
“At least tell me next time before you act.”
“…Then the previous question?”
“I was lying,” Amuro Tooru replied casually. “Matsuda said you easily forget to keep your distance when you trust someone, just like just now.”
Asuka Kazuya pondered: “Besides friends and family, there are colleagues, lovers, enemies, and strangers.”
“We shouldn’t be considered enemies or strangers, and it’s known that you, Amuro Tooru, like the old-fashioned type—I see, we’re just colleagues.”
Amuro Tooru’s attention had already shifted, but he narrowed his eyes upon hearing this: “Since when do I like the old-fashioned type?”
Asuka Kazuya: “During the meeting with the Port Mafia, you basically said your lover is the country, that sounds like something a mature civil servant in their thirties or forties would say.”
Amuro Tooru: “Heh.”
So it was no wonder Amuro Tooru always teased him. Asuka Kazuya himself was quite annoying, like when they first met, he insisted on him taking out his rattle before he would do the mission. Amuro Tooru often felt he was doing it on purpose, but following Asuka Kazuya’s logic, his conclusion was actually quite reasonable.
As for Asuka Kazuya, he didn’t understand why Amuro Tooru was suddenly angry again. He thought that if they were to really pursue this, he should only bear half the responsibility—after all, Bourbon’s words were as convoluted as Dazai Osamu’s, unlike Chuuya and the others, who were straightforward.
Thinking this, Asuka Kazuya caught sight of Scotch emerging from the cafe.
“Amuro Tooru.”
“…”
“Bourbon.”
“…”
“Scotch is winking at us, someone is following him.”
“…”
Amuro Tooru frowned, turning to look.
It wasn’t easy to identify a follower in a crowded area. Scotch’s expression was calm, he didn’t immediately get in the car.
In this situation, staying in the most crowded place was the safest course of action.
However, after waiting for a moment, Amuro Tooru’s gaze quickly locked onto a man wearing a baseball cap at three o’clock.
Scotch had a helpless expression, signaling Bourbon not to act rashly.
The car windows were tinted. Amuro Tooru observed for a moment, realizing that the other party might not be dangerous. The man’s gaze kept falling on Scotch’s pocket, as if trying to find an opportunity to steal something.
“Will Scotch beat him up?”
Asuka Kazuya glanced at the nearby cameras, trying to imagine the consequences of the man attacking Scotch in a few minutes.
Despite his good temper, Scotch could be quite ruthless. Asuka Kazuya had observed Scotch sniping a few times, reluctantly admitting that his skills were a level above his own.
Amuro Tooru: “…”
Amuro Tooru: “Only you wouldn’t consider the consequences of acting in such a crowded place.”
Asuka Kazuya paused, feigning anger: “What are you saying?! Am I that kind of person?!”
Relying on his good luck, Asuka Kazuya had once directly stuffed a bomb into someone’s pocket on the street during a mission. Amuro Tooru watched, dumbfounded, as their target fell into the sewer and was blown to smithereens.
And the culprit clapped his hands, then asked him what he wanted for dinner.
“And Korn and the others took a helicopter to deal with the traitor, and no one noticed, they’re even more blatant than me.”
Asuka Kazuya snorted, quickly shifting the blame, trying to salvage his great and meticulous image.
Amuro Tooru didn’t bother arguing, continuing to observe the surrounding crowd.
This wasn’t good.
Amuro Tooru thought.
Besides the man in the baseball cap, the young man leaning against the mailbox had been staring at the tips of his shoes. One hand was in his pocket, as if listening to music, but his shoulders were tense.
If he guessed correctly, the hand in his pocket was probably holding a weapon.
Their mission this time was to bring Calvados back to the base. It would be troublesome to go to the police station again to give a statement. Amuro Tooru didn’t want any complications, especially since Scotch wasn’t at the cafe to buy coffee, but to retrieve something from an informant.
“I can make him trip and fall,” Asuka Kazuya suggested, enthusiastic about making others unlucky. “By the way, do you know that Gin suspects Scotch?”
Amuro Tooru paused, hearing this news for the first time.
He frowned. He knew about the break-in at the Metropolitan Police Department, but he didn’t know it was Gin who did it.
How distrustful was the Boss to have Gin personally handle this?
“Hiromitsu’s file has already been removed from the Metropolitan Police Department,” Amuro Tooru said. “Even if you open it now, it contains fake information.”
“Hmm… I don’t think he wanted to directly access the file.” Asuka Kazuya had too much information in his head, forgetting some of the intel he had gathered before. “But he shouldn’t have the password, the only fingerprints that can open the database are–”
Before Asuka Kazuya could finish, the two young men who wanted to rob someone on the street had already been thrown to the ground.
Scotch stood there, holding coffee, not even moving.
Matsuda Jinpei scowled, wearing sunglasses, casually shaking his hand.
“Did you see me just now?”
Scotch: “With a child, it’s hard not to see you.”
“…That’s Hagiwara’s neighbor’s kid.” Matsuda Jinpei clicked his tongue, glancing at the little boy behind him, who was holding a drink and clapping excitedly. “Where are the other two? Why are you alone?”
Scotch pondered, stepping on the wrist of the young man on the ground who was trying to pick up his dropped knife, pretending not to see.
“They’re arguing.”
“Arguing?”
“Or maybe expressing their feelings, I think Makino-senpai is right, Zero has developed a strange possessiveness in some matters.”
“…Hey, why are you making it sound like he’s committing a crime?”
They were too far apart, only Amuro Tooru could barely make out what they were saying from Scotch’s lips.
The righteous Public Security officer was speechless, subconsciously looking at Asuka Kazuya, who was unusually quiet.
Through the glass, he made eye contact with the clapping little boy. Asuka Kazuya blinked, seemingly seeing strange numbers in his eyes.
Then, Kufufu’s laughter echoed in his head.
Obtaining information about Theos, this was the mission the Vongola gave Rokudo Mukuro. He was always a tsundere. Although he said he wouldn’t work for the Vongola, since it was the cute Chrome who asked, Rokudo Mukuro, bored, eventually came to Japan.
Entering other people’s minds, extracting information—this was Rokudo Mukuro’s specialty as an illusionist.
However, to his surprise, as soon as he finished laughing, he opened his eyes to see the two assassins who should have been dead, famous throughout Europe.
Rimbaud nodded: [It’s quite rude to invite yourself in, Rokudo-kun.]
Verlaine echoed beside him: [I don’t think I taught them how to deal with psychics, have you told Chuuya?]
“…”
This conversation lasted less than half a minute. They fought back and forth while chatting, only Asuka Kazuya unhappily covered his ears.
Amuro Tooru held his wrist, gently pulling his hand down: “What’s wrong? Are you feeling unwell?”
How strange.
Amuro Tooru was only nice to him when he was unwell.
Asuka Kazuya thought for a moment, then, with a speed that even Amuro Tooru couldn’t react to, he covered Amuro Tooru’s eyes.
“Don’t look,” he said. “There’s a ghost, a huge pineapple ghost.”
Amuro Tooru didn’t speak. He felt the warmth on his eyelids, listening to Asuka Kazuya rambling about “that kid has pink eye,” “Matsuda might also be possessed,” “although you said we’re just colleagues, I’ve decided to be the first to charge,” and so on.
He had miscalculated.
He healed his physical injuries, but neglected the psychological ones.
Amuro Tooru didn’t struggle, calmly reflecting.
Being undercover in the organization wasn’t so bad for Calvados.
They could even invite a psychiatrist to the organization and expense it.
