Chapter 55
Sophistry.
If there was anything Nakahara Chuuya learned in these three years, it was that blindly following Asuka Kazuya’s logic wouldn’t work.
“Akutagawa? Who’s Akutagawa?”
“The person Dazai picked up.”
“Oh,” Asuka Kazuya, retracting his gaze from the documents on the desk, said, “It’s rare for him to be so kind… then where’s Dazai?”
Not mentioning this was fine, mentioning it angered Nakahara Chuuya.
“Watching his friend write a novel,” Nakahara Chuuya replied flatly. “That guy found the mafia life too boring, left a note a few days ago, saying he defected.”
Dazai Osamu even drew a funny face on Nakahara Chuuya’s car with paint before defecting. The Black Lizard nervously wiped the Boss’s beloved car, but Nakahara Chuuya only sneered.
Despite their mutual hatred, he was indebted to him.
Although he issued a kill order in the name of the Port Mafia, Nakahara Chuuya didn’t actually send anyone to pursue him.
Asuka Kazuya: “…”
Asuka Kazuya: “Sorry for bringing up your sore spot.”
The young man’s sincere tone made Nakahara Chuuya pause as he was reaching for his hat. He looked at Asuka Kazuya strangely, asking, “Where do I look sad?”
Asuka Kazuya: “Just now, in the basement.”
Nakahara Chuuya: “…”
“That’s not the same thing,” Nakahara Chuuya was speechless. “…Forget it, are those two annoying guys still in your head?”
“I couldn’t use my ability in Meursault, so I let them go before entering,” Asuka Kazuya replied. “But how can you call them annoying? Verlaine’s birthday wish last year was to hear Chuuya call him ‘Oniisan.'”
What a simple and absurd wish.
Seeing Nakahara Chuuya’s lack of reaction, Asuka Kazuya waited, then asked: “Chuuya, are you not listening to me?”
Nakahara Chuuya: “I am.”
Asuka Kazuya was shocked: “So that means you agree?”
“I haven’t acknowledged any relationship with him,” Nakahara Chuuya turned off the lights in the office, walking towards him. “So it’s impossible, even in the next life.”
“…” Asuka Kazuya was silent, glancing at the hand gripping his wrist.
Through the glove, Chuuya’s body temperature seemed higher than normal.
But it made sense.
Chuuya didn’t get along with Verlaine, his memories of him were all of being beaten up, and his friends dying at Verlaine’s hands.
“Right,” on their way from the Boss’s office to the dormitory, Asuka Kazuya suddenly remembered, “I haven’t wished you happy birthday for the past two years, Tachihara and the others must have celebrated your coming-of-age ceremony, right?”
Nakahara Chuuya stopped.
He turned, looking at him from the shadows: “Do you have to remind me now?”
He seemed even angrier than before.
Asuka Kazuya didn’t understand, recalling Mori Ougai’s words.
[A Boss is a slave to the organization, willing to sacrifice even himself.]
Then him, an escaped convict, brazenly coming to the Port Mafia, was quite troublesome.
Asuka Kazuya realized this, just as he was about to speak, Nakahara Chuuya slapped him on the head.
“Don’t overthink it, I’m not kicking you out.”
At the end of the corridor, the lounge door opened.
Tachihara, previously gone without a trace, took the lead, popping open a bottle of champagne, saying cheerfully under the suddenly bright lights, “You two are so slow, why not just chat here?”
“Tachihara, don’t disturb the youngsters’ reunion.”
“Hey, hey, you make me sound so old, need I remind you, Public Relations Officer, you have another wrinkle on your face.”
“…What wrinkle?! That’s a scar from a knife!”
Asuka Kazuya looked down at his alcohol-stained jacket, realizing why Nakahara Chuuya insisted he wear another layer.
Asuka Kazuya pondered, asking Nakahara Chuuya softly amidst the lively atmosphere: “Weren’t you angry? Why did you agree to this?”
Nakahara Chuuya looked at him, his tone unreadable: “You came back, why would I be angry at you?”
If he had to say, it was because he realized his feelings and didn’t know how to act, his words more cautious than before.
Asuka Kazuya thought for a moment, asking tentatively: “Then can I go somewhere else for a while?”
“The MPD?” Nakahara Chuuya said instinctively. “I’ll go with you.”
A mafia boss saying this, was that even appropriate?
Asuka Kazuya was speechless, not knowing whether to abandon his plan to lie low in the small village Verlaine found or tell Nakahara Chuuya that he was only staying in Japan for a few days.
“Just kidding,”
After struggling for a moment, Asuka Kazuya still didn’t expose Verlaine and Rimbaud. It was only a matter of time before the prison guards noticed, there was no need to involve the people here.
Besides, even if he told Verlaine and Rimbaud that the plan had changed, they would only reply, “We told you not to go to Chuuya.”
Asuka Kazuya, hating to see others smug, took the pool cue Tachihara offered.
“What’s the wager?”
“Louis XIII, the auction price at the last banquet was 1.2 million USD.” Tachihara grinned. “Of course, you can use other things as collateral if you don’t have the money.”
Asuka Kazuya lowered his head, a few strands of golden hair falling around his lips, staring at the lie detector in front of him.
He placed his hand on it, suddenly saying, “My cellmate likes Tachihara.”
The expected electric shock didn’t come. Tachihara’s smile vanished.
“Asuka, are you trying to kill me?”
Asuka Kazuya withdrew his hand: “I’m telling you these things aren’t reliable.”
Analyzing lies based on heart rate and breathing wasn’t credible. Asuka Kazuya had to take the test several times a day when he was still in the organization.
“Not necessarily,” the pianist smiled. “The first day Chuuya joined the Flags, he bet he didn’t like men and got shocked.”
“Pfft.”
Asuka Kazuya was shocked, looking at Nakahara Chuuya incredulously. He hadn’t known about the mistaken identity back then, and Chuuya probably didn’t remember him either.
Which meant—
“It’s not what you think,”
Nakahara Chuuya interrupted, exasperated.
“I just happened to have someone I liked since childhood, it has nothing to do with gender.”
Asuka Kazuya recalled, his expression complicated: “So that’s it… you always made me play with Shirase back then, was it because of this?”
Nakahara Chuuya: “…”
Pushing too hard might scare him away, but not saying anything wouldn’t work either.
Nakahara Chuuya, expressionless, decided not to correct him after weighing the pros and cons: “Ah, yes, that’s exactly what you think.”
In the empty lounge, no one dared to speak under Nakahara Chuuya’s faint killing intent.
Tachihara secretly poured another glass of wine for Asuka Kazuya.
“Stop talking,” Tachihara choked up, dramatically wiping away tears, imitating the Public Relations Officer. “Boss, I’m so moved by your sacrifice I’m about to cry.”
“…Tachihara.”
“Yes.”
“If you don’t shut up, I’ll consider you a traitor too.”
“…?”
Perhaps because he knew he wouldn’t see them again for a long time, Asuka Kazuya drank a lot at the party that night. He was professionally trained, not revealing any information even when drunk. Nakahara Chuuya couldn’t get anything about his life in Meursault out of him, and could only carry him back to his room.
As the Boss, Nakahara Chuuya’s room was simply furnished. In the dull black tones, only the few photos of Asuka Kazuya on the bookshelf added some color. Nakahara Chuuya kept them beside his most frequently read books, glancing at them from time to time.
While the young man was taking a bath, Nakahara Chuuya worked outside.
Reports of Takase-kai remnants, discrepancies in the armory inventory, by the time Nakahara Chuuya signed his name, the clock had already gone full circle.
He sighed, opening the bathroom door, predictably seeing Asuka Kazuya spacing out in the bathtub.
Hearing the noise, the dazed man slowly turned his head. Asuka Kazuya’s eyes were misty from the steam, his golden hair floating on the water, one shoulder exposed.
“There are two ducks.”
Nakahara Chuuya glanced at the bath toys Edogawa Ranpo gave him.
“…And?”
“I figured it out,” Asuka Kazuya said with a serious face, indignant based on his blurry memories. “Why we always slept together when we were young, but after meeting Shirase, you said you wanted to sleep on the floor.”
Nakahara Chuuya: “…”
“You didn’t even take revenge after he stabbed you.”
“…”
“I heard you even rushed to Verlaine after he asked for you.”
“…”
They started sleeping separately because Shirase said Kazuya was always protecting him like a chick, and he went to Verlaine only to track his movements—Nakahara Chuuya didn’t intend to reason with a drunkard, thinking about how to get him out of the bathtub, when he heard Asuka Kazuya snort.
“Heh,” Asuka Kazuya said, “I even came to see you before looking for Verlaine, I should have just gone to France like Verlaine said.”
Nakahara Chuuya paused, catching the keyword: “Verlaine asked you to go to France?”
“To avoid the prison guards, they’ll forget after ten or eight years.” Asuka Kazuya’s face was half-submerged, blowing bubbles sleepily. “He also said you would only focus on growing up without me around, and you’d definitely regret coming to Japan to find me.”
Nakahara Chuuya sneered, suppressing his emotions: “Oh really? First Verlaine, then Amuro Tooru, you really listen to them, huh?”
Asuka Kazuya sensed his hostility, frowning: “Did Amuro Tooru capture you?”
Nakahara Chuuya was still angry: “As if you would help me.”
Asuka Kazuya said sincerely: “That’s not what I meant, Amuro Tooru captured me too.”
“…”
Hopeless, arguing with a drunkard about Amuro Tooru.
Nakahara Chuuya lowered his eyes, lifting Asuka Kazuya out of the bathtub with one hand.
It gave him the illusion that they weren’t in the mafia, but back in the slums.
Asuka Kazuya: “Where’s my duck?”
Nakahara Chuuya: “It’s not yours.”
Asuka Kazuya: “Yours is mine.”
Nakahara Chuuya: “You’re not allowed to drink next time.”
Asuka Kazuya looked down at himself, wrapped in a towel like a silkworm chrysalis.
Nakahara Chuuya: “How are you going to France?”
“Not telling.”
“Hijacking someone’s plane?”
“Already used that trick.”
Nakahara Chuuya watched him hop off to change, vaguely understanding why others liked teasing him.
Nakahara Chuuya paused, suddenly saying, “The person I like isn’t Shirase. After learning he killed you, I also wanted to kill him.”
Asuka Kazuya turned around, confused, hearing Nakahara Chuuya continue.
“But Shirase said I was the one who truly killed you, so I thought being stabbed wasn’t so bad.”
Moonlight flowed quietly into the bedroom. Asuka Kazuya frowned, asking why he would think that.
Nakahara Chuuya didn’t answer.
The arms around his waist tightened. Asuka Kazuya watched Nakahara Chuuya approach, his mouth opening from lack of air, belatedly realizing it was a kiss.
Not for information, just a kiss.
“Chuuya,” Asuka Kazuya, slightly more sober, said, “I’m going to hit you.”
But the young mafia boss chuckled, not letting go.
Asuka Kazuya’s raised hand lowered. He smelled blood on him, not using his ability on Nakahara Chuuya in the end.
This guy was injured.
Asuka Kazuya belatedly realized that what Verlaine and the others said wasn’t entirely unreasonable.
When his first thought was to avenge Chuuya, not to beat him up, Asuka Kazuya felt a twinge of regret.
Whether he could win was another matter, he hadn’t lost anything from being kissed.
Asuka Kazuya reluctantly withdrew his hand, realizing clearly,
He really couldn’t do anything to the current Nakahara Chuuya.
