Night fell, and they had yet to do anything other than talk.
He didn’t join in. He was smart enough to work on his own, but coordinating a full-scale assault with multiple parties wasn’t his area of expertise. His part would come. Later, when the cull was ordered, then he could be used. He could mow down enemies and leave in their wake nothing but pools of blood and echoed screams –
But he would have to wait. And how he loathed to wait.
He kept his place as silent watch dog in their makeshift little headquarters. Armed Detective Agency. Port Mafia. Guild. It was funny to think that not long ago the three were against each other in a battle over territory, and yet now they were all together readying for a battle over a singular person.
Chuuya would appreciate the attention…
As he watched in his silence, however, he knew this wasn’t the attention Chuuya would truly want. Pensive faces, sullen stares into floor boards and walls. Bent heads as the chess-masters spoke, shaken heads when something just wasn’t going to work. There were no tears, and for that Akutagawa finds himself grateful. How pathetic it would be for them to devolve so low to tears, yet he was uncertain how long that would last.
The hour grew late, and without any moves made, most went to bed; weariness was an unwelcomed byproduct of war, even ones that had yet to see blood. He, however, stayed awake. Darkness grew, though that was where he felt most comfortable, and as those too tired to stay awake or too worn to bare pretending like they weren’t breaking trickled out for the night, he remained, finding himself inclined to stay by someone’s side. He said nothing, because nothing needed to be said. What would he do? Seek comfort? There was no point in something so inanely worthless in all of this. He knew he wouldn’t need to give it, either. It was merely…
The familiarity of the company.
It seemed a natural thing – more so in the action than who’s side he chose. The one chess-master not calling any shots, at least not yet. He found it peculiar, but didn’t question it. If anything, he’d learned Fitzgerald didn’t act without purpose – and there was purpose to every inaction. It seemed obvious to him for the other to use Lovecraft, the… odd creature with which he was contracted to end all of this. He had heard from Chuuya the extent of Lovecraft’s power, and knew whatever it was – because he was damned to believe that the man was just a man – surely, it’d make quick work of a king of rats?
But that wasn’t his call to make. His job was to stand guard and wait – bark if ordered, bite when told.
