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NIKOLAI.

The news shocked him more than it should’ve.

You— a person so resilient that even the strongest of blows couldn’t throw you down, whether that be physical or mental— died by a shot to the side? Seriously, compared to the many other things a member of the Armed Detective Agency like you has gone through, it just didn’t make sense that you would’ve dropped dead like a fly without fighting back first.

But no— you dropped dead on impact, or at least, that’s what the Agency had told the world.

They always had that doctor on standby in most missions, or at least within reach. Maybe she hadn’t reached you in time? Or maybe your body got too tired of fighting for so long that you simply decided to take one last breath in such a pathetic manner? No, that doesn’t seem like you- the person who always stated that they wanted to die in grandeur, remembered a hero and a martyr. It just didn’t make sense—

Wait. Why was he even trying to figure out why you died, much less making excuses as to why you’re alive? He should be glad that your death had broke him free of another few chains that grounded him to this damned Earth.

Even then, it hurt.

No, it doesn’t. He’s just fine. He’s perfectly fine. You never mattered to him anyway. He would’ve killed you later, no matter what.

But he’s not sure if that’s true just two months later, standing at the foot of a rooftop with you right in front him.

“Oh, lookie lookie— here comes (Name) with their grand reveal!” He doesn’t let the facade drop, voice as booming and cheery as ever. Was it just a facade, or has it slipped in with his real identity at the same time?

Your smirk is just as familiar as ever, and he’s not sure if he’s staring at you or your corpse.

“Hm.. I wonder where the mopey and quiet Nikolai went while I had disappeared. Did you have no one else to bother? Did your dear ‘Dostoy’ get boring?”

He clenched his jaw, a smile still playing on his face like a monkey mimicking humanity. Damn you for seeing through him. Damn you for watching him during the days you’ve been ‘dead’. Damn you for being the only one who made him reconsider whether this cage was worth escaping.

The pieces clicked together, which took far longer than it should’ve in the first place—

The Armed Detective Agency hid your true ability from the world, so much so that it fooled the Decay of Angels too. They changed records, footage— everything. Because you’re their trump card. Because you’re the only one who will come back to life, over and over again. The only one who could keep fighting even after they’re all long gone.

Oh, that sounded worse than hell.

Wouldn’t it be better if you just accepted his truth to find freedom? But you never would, and he knew that. You were always too stubborn and resilient, restless to fight for your side of justice. He wished you’d realize the truth, that you’d let him unlock your cage and let you fly free. But you’d stay huddled up in the corner of your cage, like a scared bird with no way to fly. And he knew he couldn’t force you when you’d bite.

As you both stood on the rooftop, wind rushing through hair and clothes, the smile on his face turned into something else— sharp, raw.

“Don’t go dying on me. I’ll be the one to kill you every time you come back to life. I won’t let anybody else have the honor of doing so.”

In the blink of an eye, his form is gone from the rooftop. You rushed to the edge, looking to see where he had gone, only to feel a push of hands behind you.

Who would’ve expected anything less from Nikolai?

You’re not scared. You know he’d save you anyway.

DAZAI.

Dazai was not surprised in the slightest.

He didn’t cherish you close to his heart (of course he did, how could he not?), but it seems that everyone that he even comes in contact with is lost.

He read the file over and over again, as if hoping something would change. But he knew it wouldn’t. He thought he had long been above silly wishes for somebody he didn’t even care for.

Dead on impact by an ability from an opposing enemy.

You died fighting, as he always knew you would.

But that didn’t soothe the empty ache in his chest where a heart should’ve resided. You offered amusement. Well, maybe it was closer to solace hidden in banter and blood. From mafia days to years later when he had sworn he became a ‘changed’ man, you were there.

You sat in the executive seats of the Port Mafia since age seventeen, the third child executive after Dazai and Chuuya. You didn’t see him as being, placed on a pedestal, but as someone. You saw him as someone so disgustingly human, as if he didn’t believe he was just a failed prototype mistakenly brought into the world. From harsh banter to firing guns, you were still always there. Something was hidden underneath the rivalry, something deeper.

But now, he’d never get to know what it truly was.

…

Months had passed, or has it been a year yet? He couldn’t recall. He’s ‘moved’ on with your death, just like he did Odasaku’s. Besides, there were more important matters to focus on— such as the problem with the Decay of Angels. He wasn’t the type to break promises. Not anymore— he hoped.

He sat in the control room, computers surrounding him as he watched the battle play out. Just another one. He tapped the microphone connected from his headphones to his mouth, instructing Atsushi how to fight this enemy. Just another pawn in Fyodor’s plan.

He may have made a mistake, for once.

He hadn’t accounted for a corpse to be walking into the battlefield, looking just as if they were alive and well.

You stepped in front of Atsushi, gun firing at the enemy as you dodged every attack that came your way, making sure to divert the attention from the weretiger.

You died fighting, and you came back fighting too.

The usual emptiness in his chest is replaced with a boiling anger, and he understood why Chuuya had beat him to a pulp in the mafia torture chambers and why you had tried to shoot him in the head and purposely missed.

But the moment you turned towards the nearest camera with that same shit-eating grin he’s always known, firing at the man once again without even looking, and gave him a wink, the anger simmered.

What replaced the anger was… something he couldn’t begin to describe. Something that a creature as unfamiliar to humanity as him wasn’t familiar with. Chest tight with tension, loosening just the slightest bit. Breath slowing down— not of death or injury, but something else. The tension of his shoulders dropped, slumping him back into his chair.

He’s always been good at reading people. He knew the emotions they felt. How to twist them. How to break it. How to let it grow and live and find its way into the light like all life should. But for some reason, he couldn’t figure out why he felt this way. He never understood how he felt.

It was always that way when it came to you.

He regained his composure and continued instructing Atsushi as if nothing ever happened, but he knew one thing now:

Maybe he won’t lose everything he’s ever wanted after all.

CHUUYA.

Chuuya popped open a bottle of wine and drank it all.

He’s never been one to drink. Just collect and have a sip occasionally. But some days called for desperate measures. Even if that meant picking up something far below his now richer tastes.

It wasn’t one of his expensive ones from the cellar in his penthouse that he collected. Just a cheap one he picked up from the local grocery store on his way back from a late night shift. Even he couldn’t tell if this was a celebration or not.

His other hand held his phone. News anchors freaked out, all that filled every online platform was sad condolences to the Armed Detective Agency. Even in reality, it was all that the people of Yokohama could talk about:

You died.

How dare you die on everyone? How dare you sacrifice your life for a civilian? How dare you let yourself be caught in the midst of a bomb as you evacuated every civilian out? How dare you die when a terrorist crisis has been endangering Yokohama right now?

How dare you die on him?

Even then, you died bright. Your light didn’t dim. You died a human. And maybe that’s everything he wished he could’ve been. Sure, he convinced himself that it didn’t matter and he’s still himself and blah blah blah, but deep down— he never felt right. Like his own skin was itching to run from himself.

But you had came to him. You slithered into his heart through sly smirks and jabs. And now, you’re gone. Because everyone he gets close to dies sooner or later.

Maybe it was better that you died. Then, you wouldn’t have lived long enough to see that horrific, monstrous side of him he despised. He wouldn’t have to see your face twisted into fear and disgust at the form he took. He wouldn’t have to see your eyes look at him like he was metal and code instead of flesh and bone.

Maybe it was better you were gone. But that didn’t dull the ache in his heart of code.

…

Mersault was a mess.

He hated every second of acting like a vampire— even more so that the resident dipshit-Dazai didn’t even know he was faking it and still believed he was in his human conscience!

And shooting him in the head wasn’t all that great too. But hey, he survived. Like he always did.

So when the plan went accordingly and he came down with Dazai to see Fyodor hunched over in the helicopter, a spear driven into his stomach, he hadn’t expected a single lone guard to come along too.

Except it wasn’t just a guard. Because why would it ever be?

No. It was you.

It was you, standing there in all your alive glory and not disguising yourself an infected guard.

“Ah, there you are,” Dazai called out your name casually. “They’ve been helping us ever since their ‘death’, you could say—“

Chuuya’s fist flew before his mouth opened.

Straight at you.

All you did was back away. You just… took a lazy step back like he wasn’t about to charge at you with full gravity-defying speed and strength combined.

“Wow. What a warm welcome,” you said in that familiar, grating monotone voice— and that smirk on your face.

He was going to punt you into the ground.

And, well, he tried. Sort of. Not really.

Dazai sighed at the sight. Instead, he just continued on with his speech towards Nikolai and (mostly) Fyodor alone— he might as well leave those lovebirds to do what they do best.

Then there was you, narrowly dodging each attack he sent your way with a quip and a random roll on the ground or jumping up like that did anything.

“You,” a punch. “fucking,” a kick. “liar!”

He had you down on the ground now, his gravity vibrating and pulsing around his form erratically. You laid there on the concrete, breathing heavy. And you still had that infuriating smirk on your face.

His ability slowly calmed down as he sat beside your laying form on the concrete, but it still pulsed like it had a soul. Maybe it did.

After a long, agonizing moment of silence, you spoke: “Sooo…” you started. “I take it you missed me a lot?”

When he saw you pointing those pathetically silly finger guns at him, he wanted to rip them off. But instead, all he managed was a huff of what loosely resembled a chuckle as he looked away.

“… Don’t go dying on me again.” He immediately spoke again to cover the raw vulnerability. “I don’t have the energy to deal with a fake funeral service.”

Your smirk turned softer at the edges, a bit too close to a smile. You didn’t say anything in return. Just let his words hang in the air between you both. Like an unspoken promise.

Dazai called out to you two with some witty one-liner, and he snapped back sharply, causing you to laugh. He doesn’t clearly remember what he said in that moment, but he remembered one thing—

The relief, the anger, the… everything that swirled in his ‘coded’ heart. It felt so real. Enough to grasp onto it and hold it like it was his own.

You made him feel alive. Feel human— no, like he deserved to be human.

At least he knew that you’d be here to stay. Obnoxiously and idiotic. But unapologetically you.

OMG I HOPE THIS WASN’T OOC… I was also lwk planning to do Ranpo and Fyodor but I didn’t have the energy and this had been sitting in my drafts for MONTHS. So yk… I just posted it and hoped for the best. If u have any advice or constructive criticism, I’d appreciate it! Thanks for reading MWAH!

Lace fade dividers from @cursed-carmine