Chapter 57
During winter solstice, Asuka Kazuya visited Matsumoto Yamato’s grave. The temple monk said that after Officer Matsumoto’s sacrifice, his family also passed away one after another—Amuro Tooru had moved Matsumoto Yamato’s grave here two years ago. There was no body inside, it was merely a cenotaph.
Asuka Kazuya imitated the other visitors, clapping his hands, closing his eyes to say a few words, then placing the flowers he brought on the steps.
No one noticed him.
Since joining the Armed Detective Agency, Asuka Kazuya had always appeared in disguise. He wore a black wig, losing his usual radiance, his eyes also changed to the same blue as Nakahara Chuuya’s.
Asuka Kazuya kept his hands in his trench coat pockets, only answering his brothers’ call after leaving the temple.
Unlike him, Rimbaud and Verlaine, as Transcendentalists, didn’t bother hiding. Embracing their French romanticism, they appeared at the cafe below the Armed Detective Agency every day, rain or shine, soon becoming quite familiar with the owner.
But in fact, these two combined couldn’t even scrape together a single yen. Asuka Kazuya, repeatedly receiving bills from the owner, finally understood how much the organization members he tormented before hated him.
He walked, turning off his phone screen.
Many people were waiting at the bus stop outside the temple. Asuka Kazuya leaned against a tree, waiting for the tourist bus like an ordinary person.
He listened to the tourists’ laughter, vaguely recalling how his relationship with Nakahara Chuuya had become a bit strange a few months ago.
Rimbaud said this was called taking a step back to advance. After all, Chuuya hadn’t done anything more after that kiss, nor did he object to his plan to join the Armed Detective Agency. But their names were firmly linked, and the other members of the agency always thought Asuka Kazuya was a mole sent by the Port Mafia, perhaps worried that he would ruin the agency’s reputation, they watched him closely during missions.
But over time, they realized he was no longer the capricious person from three years ago. Twenty-one-year-old Asuka Kazuya was much calmer. No one knew what he had gone through in Meursault, or maybe he was simply past the age of recklessness—the blond young man would sit on the sofa, patiently listening to the client’s requests, then seeing them off with a smile, casually pinning the noisy Dazai Osamu to the wall with his pen.
So the conversation changed from “don’t let Asuka act alone” to “can’t you just send Dazai flying with a punch?”
Besides that, only Edogawa Ranpo, forced to exercise every day, complained endlessly. The great detective in the beret threatened to crush his self-esteem in terms of deduction, but Asuka Kazuya, after looking through all the files, only said sincerely, “Then I’ll leave it to you.”
Edogawa Ranpo’s face turned red, unable to say anything hurtful, his most vicious words being, “Even so, Ranpo-sama won’t forgive you.”
Dazai Osamu observed from the side, then, seeing the fun, laughed and said he was just like a certain someone.
“I remember Amuro-kun also used this method to defeat you back then.”
Asuka Kazuya glanced at Verlaine and Rimbaud, who were being asked for their phone numbers by a girl, saying that Edogawa Ranpo wasn’t even as good as him.
“At least Amuro Tooru used a teenager’s behavioral guide, child psychology is more than enough to deal with Ranpo-kun.”
Dazai Osamu tilted his head, immediately relaying these words, embellished, to Edogawa Ranpo.
Asuka Kazuya was speechless, replying, “Can’t you be more mature?”
Dazai Osamu retorted: “Kazuya-kun is the one who’s become strange.”
Asuka Kazuya thought for a moment, saying, “I’m just cherishing the peaceful days.”
Years passed. Officer Makino was promoted to section chief, Matsuda Jinpei, as a newcomer to the First Investigation Division, had the fastest promotion record, Hagiwara Kenji’s name was well-known in the bomb disposal unit, Amuro Tooru and Morofushi Hiromitsu were given special honors, occasionally returning to the police academy to guide new students.
As for Nakahara Chuuya, according to Ango-senpai, the Port Mafia recently formed a partnership with the Vongola, and Nakahara Chuuya intended to expand their business to various fields, which would undoubtedly lead the Port Mafia to another peak.
When Matsuda and the others asked him to hang out, Chuuya would call him. When Chuuya asked him to hang out, Matsuda and the others would claim they saw a backflipping cat.
These two groups didn’t get along. Asuka Kazuya looked down at the withered leaves at his feet, not understanding that feeling.
He asked Dazai if he ever worried about being abandoned.
Dazai Osamu shrugged, saying they were different, he didn’t have anyone he cared about that much.
He then narrowed his eyes, asking if Asuka Kazuya was jealous.
Asuka Kazuya was silent, seriously considering this.
He thought for so long that Dazai Osamu abandoned his new suicide plan, curious when he would figure it out.
“Jealousy should be wanting to kill Gin when I see him get promoted,” Asuka Kazuya’s tone was flat, but his words were shocking. “I don’t have such feelings for Chuuya and the others, I want them to live longer than me, I’m even happy about it.”
So it wasn’t jealousy.
He had several New Year’s Eve invitations on his phone, everyone hiding it from him, using their own methods to block the information from Europe.
Asuka Kazuya blinked, belatedly asking Dazai, “Do you know the meaning of happiness?”
If anyone else said this, Dazai Osamu would think they were mocking him. But Asuka Kazuya was just an idiot, and Dazai Osamu knew he was truly curious, truly believing in him.
This gave Dazai Osamu a sense of helplessness.
After a long while, it was Dazai Osamu who fell silent.
He didn’t answer, complaining that talking to him lowered his IQ, walking away in the opposite direction.
As a former Port Mafia executive, Dazai Osamu silently eliminated a stalker while turning a corner.
He stared at the body at his feet, thinking, that look was terrifying.
Then Dazai Osamu chuckled.
No wonder Chuuya liked him.
Like a lake reflecting the deepest parts of human nature, Dazai Osamu saw a hint of longing for happiness in Asuka Kazuya’s eyes.
To avoid further complications with confidentiality, Asuka Kazuya couldn’t use his accumulated wealth or his ability while in Japan.
Unlike any organization he’d been in before, the Armed Detective Agency’s salary was pathetic.
Nakahara Chuuya leaned against his car, having come to pick him up, seeing Asuka Kazuya staring at his bank book, wondering if there were a few zeros missing.
“…Are you an idiot?” The Boss, hands in his pockets, was speechless, patiently waiting for five minutes.
Asuka Kazuya walked over, pocketing the bank book, saying, “Our relationship is really fading,” as he opened the car door.
Nakahara Chuuya: “…”
“Ha?” Nakahara Chuuya narrowed his eyes dangerously. “What did Dazai say about me again? Or are those Public Security guys planning to arrest me with your help again?”
“No,” Asuka Kazuya reached out, catching the puppy climbing from the back seat. “I learned a new emotion today, just experimenting.”
“There’s something I’ve been curious about for a long time,” already aware of the ability user mercenary following him, Asuka Kazuya turned his head as bullets flew towards them, asking Nakahara Chuuya casually, “you never really fought me before, even when you lost to me that time, your fist changed direction before it hit me, which is stronger, your gravity or my programming?”
“…”
Silence. Nakahara Chuuya chuckled, a predatory glint in his eyes as he looked up.
“You want to know?”
“Don’t worry, I didn’t drug your drink this time.”
Nakahara Chuuya raised an eyebrow: “I don’t drink during work hours.”
Asuka Kazuya: “I just think you’re being too careful with me. Although it would be nice to have a sparring match, but now…”
“Jump,” Asuka Kazuya said, looking away. “It’s going to explode.”
He grabbed the arm of an approaching motorcyclist, slamming his head against the vehicle, smoothly taking his place, his movements fluid, the drift quite impressive if not for the confused puppy on his head.
The bomb was planted at the rear of the car. Nakahara Chuuya’s gravity shielded them from the explosion. He glanced at his sacrificed car, deciding to personally deal with the traitor later.
“Any clues?” Nakahara Chuuya asked, easily blocking the other attacking ability user.
Asuka Kazuya: “Nope.”
Asuka Kazuya: “But Ranpo-kun said he saw a suspicious Russian recently, looks a bit like Shibusawa-kun’s accomplice from the Dragon’s Head Conflict.”
Nakahara Chuuya: “…”
Nakahara Chuuya: “Then what are you so happy about?”
Asuka Kazuya disarmed the enemy with a swift move.
“It’s been a while since we fought side by side, aren’t you happy?”
The wind ruffled his hair. Nakahara Chuuya watched him chop the enemy’s neck, not stopping his recklessness for once.
Asuka Kazuya had been quiet for too long.
This was the price for him staying in Japan—Nakahara Chuuya sometimes questioned his decision to keep him here, silently making up for it in other ways.
At first glance, Nakahara Chuuya, as a mafia member, was exceptionally tolerant.
He would drink with his subordinates, help Higuchi cheat on her weight check with his gravity, even tolerate Q pinning a rabbit doll to his hat.
But within a year of taking office, he annihilated all opposing organizations—
Nakahara Chuuya snapped their necks, clearly having learned from Theos.
He wasn’t like Dazai Osamu.
Even less like Amuro Tooru.
Nakahara Chuuya wasn’t good at lying, or saying pretty words.
He and Asuka Kazuya quickly dealt with the new wave of attacks, the fight turning into a sparring match.
Rimbaud and Verlaine stood on high ground, using their abilities to isolate the space, discussing which younger brother would win.
Rimbaud said it would be Chuuya, after all, despite having recovered, overusing his ability took a toll, it wasn’t a life-or-death situation, there was no need for Kazuya to use his full power.
Verlaine said it would be Kazuya, after all, Chuuya’s gravity control wasn’t as good as his, he had trained Asuka Kazuya for a long time, it would be difficult for Chuuya to win without using Corruption.
Their discussion eventually turned into who confessed first.
“Isn’t our current relationship good enough?”
“Why don’t you join the Agency, and I join the Port Mafia?”
“Why?”
“Verlaine, we can’t afford to eat anymore.”
“…”
Dodging the incoming motorcycle debris, Asuka Kazuya smirked, using three shots as bait, quickly flashing behind Nakahara Chuuya. He jumped, his attack about to land, when Nakahara Chuuya grabbed his ankle and threw him.
Rimbaud watched, stunned, as Asuka Kazuya used the momentum to break through his ability and disappear.
Nakahara Chuuya glanced at their location, tearing through Verlaine’s gravity and leaving without looking back.
“…He planned this from the beginning?”
Rimbaud realized this was their protest against their excessive interference.
“Is this okay?” In the alley, unseen by the two Transcendentalists, Asuka Kazuya removed his wig, tucking his hair behind his ear.
Nakahara Chuuya: “Just a vacation.”
Asuka Kazuya: “You’re right, so my flight to Siberia is tomorrow.”
Nakahara Chuuya deadpanned: “You know about the Decay of Angels incident too?”
Asuka Kazuya was shocked: “Shouldn’t you object?! Our relationship really is fading!”
Nakahara Chuuya: “…”
Nakahara Chuuya looked at him speechlessly: “Would you not go just because I told you not to?”
“Besides, what do you take the Port Mafia’s intel network for? I’ll know even if you sneak out.”
Seemingly obedient, actually meddling everywhere.
Knowing him too well, Nakahara Chuuya knew Asuka Kazuya’s adventures would never end.
Asuka Kazuya was skeptical: “Then why were you so angry when I said I was leaving before?”
Nakahara Chuuya paused, a shadow in his eyes.
Saying it wasn’t just him who was reflecting?—Seemed deliberate.
Saying he finally understood that loving someone meant letting them live their own life?—Seemed even more deliberate.
Nakahara Chuuya’s face darkened, his tone irritable: “Just say I like getting angry, okay?”
Asuka Kazuya: “…”
“This afternoon, I asked Dazai, ‘do you know what happiness is like?'” Walking side by side, at the end of the alley, Asuka Kazuya suddenly said, “I think Dazai should know the answer, he immediately ran away after hearing it, as if he was scared of me.”
“I’m not actually avoiding using my ability because I’m afraid Meursault will find me, it’s different now, after understanding what they mean by happiness, I don’t want to die anymore.”
“So it has nothing to do with you, Chuuya,” Asuka Kazuya said slowly, after painful reflection. “People really do see a life flash before their eyes before they die, even thinking of many things in a single second.”
“…” Nakahara Chuuya looked away.
He was frustrated by his inability to express himself, only frowning and threatening him.
“Hey,” Nakahara Chuuya said, “you know I like you, right? If you say such strange things again, I’ll assume you agreed to what we talked about when we were young.”
Asuka Kazuya: “What thing?”
Asuka Kazuya: “The thing about buying a gem-encrusted Barbie dream coffin?”
Nakahara Chuuya: “…”
Nakahara Chuuya gritted his teeth: “Out of everything, you only remember that?”
A world with only the two of them. They didn’t need a big house, just each other.
Nakahara Chuuya realized his childhood wish had already come true.
After so many years, Asuka Kazuya would still run towards him like when they were young. Fighting for him when they were kids, teaching him which bread was edible, and after growing up, scheming from the first day they reunited, protecting the Flags from Verlaine with just the words “Chuuya’s friend.”
“Just kidding,”
Asuka Kazuya said.
“I wanted to say, novels always define a happy ending as a family reunion. But that’s hard to achieve in reality, some people just don’t see each other often, always arguing, I asked Oda, who also writes novels, and he said that’s also a good ending.”
Nakahara Chuuya understood half of it: “I’m not waiting for you for decades like in another world.”
Asuka Kazuya: “You can find another Oniisan.”
Nakahara Chuuya deadpanned: “What Oniisan? I’ll really hit you if you say that again.”
Asuka Kazuya: “Really? You really don’t understand?”
Nakahara Chuuya: “What am I supposed to understand?”
Asuka Kazuya: “I’m not telling, it’s embarrassing.”
Nakahara Chuuya: “…You could spin 360 degrees on Kindled’s car, what’s embarrassing about this?”
Asuka Kazuya: “The point is your ‘I like you.’ I wasn’t just asking Oda about happy endings, I thought some Shirase 2.0 might appear and kidnap you while I’m in Siberia, so I asked him how to remind you of my presence.”
Nakahara Chuuya: “…”
Under the clear sky, Nakahara Chuuya watched Asuka Kazuya kneel and take out a ring from a velvet box.
Nakahara Chuuya’s eyebrow twitched: “You have no idea what you’re doing, do you? I told you I have nothing to do with Shirase, should I beat him up for you to believe me?”
Asuka Kazuya said seriously: “Explaining is covering up, covering up means it’s true.”
Nakahara Chuuya sneered, grabbing the back of his collar, not caring if Verlaine and Rimbaud could see them, dragging him away.
Asuka Kazuya: “Where are we going?”
Nakahara Chuuya: “To buy you a ring.”
Asuka Kazuya: “Why buy me a ring?”
Nakahara Chuuya: “To remind you of my presence, so you won’t be kidnapped by some Dazai 2.0 in Siberia.”
Asuka Kazuya: “How dare you, using my words against me.”
Nakahara Chuuya: “You started it.”
Asuka Kazuya: “It’s not convenient to fight with a ring on, I don’t want to wear it.”
Nakahara Chuuya: “Heh, then is it convenient for you to carry that doll the police officer gave you?”
Asuka Kazuya: “After all this, you’re still after my unicorn.”
Nakahara Chuuya stopped, changing direction.
Asuka Kazuya: “Where are we going now?”
“The Port Mafia.”
“Can we buy rings there?”
Nakahara Chuuya: “I changed my mind, you keep calling me ‘Oniisan,’ we’re going abroad to register our household under one name.”
Asuka Kazuya was touched: “Oh my god, Chuuya, you finally figured it out. But why abroad? Can’t we register in Japan?”
Nakahara Chuuya sneered, not correcting him.
The two on the rooftop watched the whole scene. Verlaine silently and unwillingly handed his last bit of money to Rimbaud.
“Chuuya’s also been corrupted,” Verlaine said. “Kazuya trusts him too much.”
“It’s part of growing up,” Rimbaud replied. “I can’t wait to see Kazuya’s expression when he finds out the truth.”
The clouds drifted lazily in the sky. Rimbaud lowered his eyes, recalling the day he and Verlaine broke up, the researchers mentioning Kazuya’s berserk state before he lost consciousness.
He regretted his impulsiveness, regretted leaving Asuka Kazuya alone. He was afraid the child would become a tool, never again correcting others with that firm tone.
[“I’m Asuka Kazuya, not A1607.”]
Fortunately, he survived, instinctively escaping with Chuuya.
Rimbaud chuckled, taking off his earmuffs.
Winter was coming, but he didn’t feel cold.
The chaos and war were over. Rimbaud knew that after winter, it would be spring, full of hope.
