Chapter Text
[0.1]
He’d heard it first while he was out on a mission.
Back then, Atsushi was stuck working with Akutagawa (as per usual), and everything went well except for one broken plumbing and two flat tires from the Agency’s working van. They’d just saved a jewelry shop from being robbed, and while Akutagawa was strongly against it (‘jinko, this is the opposite of my job’), he still agreed to it, after Dazai-san explained that the owner was a valuable information broker.
Back then, when Atsushi was cleaning up after Akutagawa (as per usual), the jewelry shop owner smiled at him and told him Atsushi reminded him of someone.
“You and that grumpy fellow you had with you,” the owner laughed. “You’re just like them!”
Now Atsushi could take a compliment, but he didn’t know about being lumped together with Akutagawa.
“Just like…them?”
“Fish eyes and gremlin,” the owner hollered. Atsushi only stared at the man, confused.
“Yokohama forgets, but I remember. Watching those two was worth more than gold.” He gripped Atsushi’s shoulder, a hint of madness dancing in his eyes, and shook violently. “Nobody knew what was stolen until it was gone!”
Because Dazai-san strictly ordered not do anything that would remotely harm the man, Atsushi only laughed with him, his posture awkward and stiff.
“What – what did they steal?”
At first Atsushi thought the man was referring to himself, like, another one of those deep symbolisms or something, until he stared into Atsushi’s eyes, all sane and clear.
“It’s not just a rumour, boy. The treasure does exist.”
“…the treasure?”
“It’s real!” The man clapped. “It’s real! It’s real! It’s real!”
At first Atsushi thought the man was onto something, but as it turned out, he was dealing with another madman (as per usual).
[0.2]
No one would say anything about it, but one time, out of curiosity, while Atsushi was rifling through the Detective Agency’s shelves, he’d found a folder labelled ‘Yokohama Heist’, with the picture of mansion clipped to it.
Now Atsushi had seen plenty of cases – heists done with only the slimmest of leads – but when Atsushi-san asked Ranpo-san about it, the cape-wearing detective only shook his head, saying it hasn’t been solved yet.
“You – you haven’t tried, Ranpo-san?”
Ranpo-san took one look at the picture, before tossing it away, like it wasn’t worth his time.
“That case is weird,” he said, in-between munching his potato chips. “Something was stolen, and then returned…but if the treasure grew arms and feet and walked away on its own…was it really ever stolen?”
Atsushi’s right eye twitched – he should’ve known.
Riddles upon riddles, Ranpo-san was the Agency’s very own Sphinx.
Noticing Atsushi’s discomfort, Ranpo-san only chuckled, “Try asking Dazai-kun about it. See if his explanation prove to be simpler than mine.”
Atsushi wanted to say, no, no thanks, but he nodded his head anyway, and thanked Ranpo-san for help.
[0.3]
It’s not that Atsushi didn’t trust Dazai-san’s help. No – being his benefactor, mentor, and basically lifesaver – Atsushi trusts Dazai-san with a lot, just not when he becomes like this.
Dazai-san, being Dazai-san, actually managed to bring one of the five executives with him, and it’s Chuuya Nakahara-san at that.
“Dazai-san, why is he here?”
Atsushi was whispering, even though the person he was referring to was right beside him.
“You have a problem with that, jinko?” Akutagawa sneered, Rashoumon vibrating with energy, until Dazai-san held up a hand – a sign of peace.
(Actually, no. Past experience vouched it as a sign of trouble.)
“Now, now. We can’t have you fighting over this quaint little shop.” Dazai-san placated. “We’re all gentlemen here so let’s talk like one.”
“Look who’s talking,” Chuuya-san snickered.
Dazai-san didn’t even bat an eyelid.
“But you weren’t included, Chuuya ~”
“Hah?” Chuuya-san roared, throttling Dazai-san by the neck.
Really, it’s not that Atsushi doesn’t trust Dazai-san.
It’s just that shit happens whenever his mentor opens his mouth.
[0.4]
“Why are you here, Akutagawa?”
“Why are you here, jinko?”
“I asked first.”
“I asked second.”
“It doesn’t work that way!”
“It does when I stab you if you say it doesn’t.”
“…”
“…”
“…Dazai-san was going to tell me about an unsolved case.”
“…what a coincidence. Chuuya-san was going to do that too.”
“He was?!”
“Hm.”
“Could it – could it be?”
[0.5]
“What we’re about to tell you, is – “
Both Atsushi and Akutagawa finished:
“How you two met?”
Dazai and Chuuya gasped at the same time:
“What the fuck?”
[1.1]
It was the biggest heist of all time. Nobody exactly knew what was stolen, or whom, for the love of God, would be able to accomplish such a feat, but one thing was certain: it was worth more than all of Yokohama’s riches combined. Even the Port Mafia Boss was astounded: their crew held the wealthiest people – the most powerful men.
And yet, in that day, not a single one of them lost a dime.
One look at the mansion, and Chuuya knew he’d hit jackpot.
He’d heard plenty of stories about a lavish Victorian home situated by the forest: a four-story brownstone with well-kept gardens and an assembly of maids, apparently owned by some wealthy aristocrat. Yokohama was a port city – it was obvious that plenty of businessmen lived here – but this one was different.
He’d heard plenty of stories about the Tsushima household: bold business ventures, high-stake gambles, lots of major scuffles and disagreements. It was one of Yokohama’s most prominent families, second only the city’s underground bosses and officials, but what made them so interesting was that they were shrouded in mystery, despite living their lives in the limelight.
Don’t even think about it, Kousuke-kun, one of his friends, had warned. That family is rich, but lemme tell you, a few thousand yen ain’t worth your life. Leave it, nii-san. .
Back then, Chuuya wanted to argue that his life wasn’t even worth anything, but the kid implored him with those huge puppy eyes – even going as far as call him nii-san – so it was obvious why Chuuya caved in as fast as he did.
It did not, however, mean that he wasn’t going to check it at least, and now that he thought about it, maybe Chuuya should just apologize later to Kousuke-kun.
After all, what does a few broken promises mean when they get to eat a feast tonight?
Y’all be thanking me later, Chuuya thought to himself, smiling as he worked out his plan. He was going to strike tonight, as soon as the head of the household heads off in his usual routine (for some reason, he really worked late), and by then Chuuya would’ve stolen all their precious jewelries, hard cash, and perhaps even a booze or two, while he was at it.
He should’ve known that some treasures were hidden away for a reason, and most of them, if not cursed, were only bound to bring more trouble than they were worth.
[1.2]
“So nobody knows what it is?”
“Nope.”
“Sounds like the just want to keep it for themselves.”
“I’m serious, Chuuya-nii. Even – even the Port Mafia wouldn’t touch it.”
“Maybe that’s because it’s theirs.”
“Chuuya-nii, are you even listening to me?!”
“I am!”
“We are not touching that mansion! It’s too dangerous!”
“You know, for a second, it actually sounded like you’re the older brother here, Kousuke-kun.”
[1.3]
Chuuya learned the hard way never to trust grown-ups.
It wasn’t a matter of jealousy, per se. He wasn’t not talking about the physical kind. No, Chuuya hated the dead-eyed grown-ups: the ones who smile with secrets and laugh through their teeth, the ones who believed that the world was theirs for the taking. Chuuya hated the grown-ups thought they knew everything.
They all thought Chuuya was stupid.
He wasn’t.
“You shouldn’t go there, lad,” Kinnosuke-san warned, not bothering to look up from his table. “It’s not worth it.”
Chuuya tapped his foot impatiently – they were funny words, especially for a jewelry dealer like him. Kinnosuke-san eyed Chuuya’s latest delivery: a beautiful gold bracelet; discreetly lifted from a pretty courtesan he’d bumped into by the plaza.
Kinnosuke-san should know about worth more than anyone, because this was the same man who’d take a cheap-ass watch if it meant he could get something out of Chuuya. Everything has its own price, he would always say. Prices went from hard cash to barter then petty favours.
There was no way that filthy-rich mansion didn’t have anything.
“Everyone keeps saying that,” he grumbled. This time Kinnosuke-san finally looked up, magnified eyes assessing Chuuya like a hawk. Both of them knew what Chuuya was really here for:
He set down the jewelry with a sigh.
“No amount of information could get you in there, Chuuya-kun.” Kinnosuke-san chided, reading his thoughts. “It may not look like it, but that place is heavily guarded.”
Chuuya raised an eyebrow, finally interested.
“Oh? Do tell.”
“I’m telling you, Chuuya-kun, for your sake and mine, you shouldn’t – “
“I can get you more of that,” Chuuya gestured at the stack behind him: the heaps of stolen watches, rings, bracelets, wallets – gold. It was a reminder to every visitor that there was a streets call Kinnosuke-san the dragon, and it wasn’t because he could breathe fire.
No, out of all the jewelry shops in Yokohama –
None could probably beat Kinnosuke-san’s hoard.
(Or so they thought.)
“Even I would never go near that place again,” Kinnosuke-san shook his head, but even then, Chuuya could see his expression wavering: the promise of more hanging over him like a cloud. He could never go near that place.
But Chuuya…
“Try me,” he offered. It didn’t sound much coming from a ratty kid, but then again, not every ratty kid was Chuuya.
He could almost witness the gears turning behind the dealers head: nothing to lose; everything to gain. This was his favourite kind of deal.
“They have elite guards from both the Port Mafia and Special Abilities Department,” Kinnosuke-san finally conceded. “They have the whole perimeter secured, and I heard even the servants of the house know how to defend themselves.”
Chuuya knew he should be taking down notes, but he was just confirming all information he received anyway. Like he said, he wasn’t stupid.
No way he’d trust a jewelry hustler to be his only source of information.
“The only way in is to find a way to scale the rooftops, which is also impossible. The sensors would detect you in a heartbeat.”
They say nothing’s in there, but they made it to be the world’s most secure treasure chest.
Ayase-san, the soft-spoken arms dealer from the port, had told him that.
“What about the windows?” Chuuya dared to ask, because so far, in his investigation, not a single person had mentioned the windows – which should’ve been the most obvious.
“The windows? I haven’t thought of that!” Kinnosuke-san stifled a laugh, holding it in until his face turned red. He looked at Chuuya like they just shared an inside joke. “Chuuya-kun, if you could fly, then yes. How about you just fly through the fucking window.”
The walls are brownstone, but they’re riddled with traps.
“Hypothetically speaking, if I were to fly – “
“Hypothetically speaking!” Kinnosuke-san guffawed, slamming his hands on the table for effect. There was the cluttering sound of metal and coins clashing together – a trickle of treasures mixed with fool’s gold. The look Kinnosuke-san gave him was incredulous.
“What are you, Gifted?”
Surely Kinnosuke-san meant it as a joke.
Making it a joke, however, didn’t stop Chuuya’s blood from running cold.
Gifted, huh.
“Let’s say I flew through the fucking window. What happens next, Kinnosuke-san?”
“What happens next?” Kinnosuke-san blinked for a second, taken aback. And then, he said with a blank expression:
“Nobody’s even gotten that far, Chuuya-kun. Even if they did, no one’s ever gotten out.”
Chuuya considered his words.
Nobody even knows what the fuck they’re stealing. All they know, was that…
“It must be worth risking their lives.” Chuuya said out loud, not really meaning to, but it slipped out of his mouth anyway. He could think of a lot of people risking his life for: Kousuke-kun, Shirase-kun…his friends.
Family.
“You really don’t have a choice now, do you?” The dragon murmured, and for the first time since Chuuya first knew him, he sounded pitiful.
Chuuya flashed him a sheepish smile.
“Family is always a choice,” he told the man. He meant it.
We don’t have mothers or fathers. Hell, we don’t even have a home. But this – this is ours.
A family of strangers.
“Yeah, yeah. Do what you want. Don’t say I didn’t warn you.” Kinnosuke-san waved a dismissive hand at him, not bothering to ask any more questions, because both of them knew that there was no changing Chuuya’s mind once he’d set his mind onto something.
“Oh, and one last thing.”
Chuuya stopped in front of the shop’s door.
“Yes, Kinnosuke-san?”
“The courtesan you bumped at the plaza. Did she happen to have red hair and wear a pink kimono?”
Chuuya let out a low whistle. “Wow. How did you know?”
Kinnosuke-san’s face went pale.
“Oh.”
“Why? What’s wrong?”
“C’mere, boy,” The dragon gestured Chuuya to come closer. “I’ll let you in on a secret.”
Everything has its own price.
“At what cost?” Chuuya found himself asking, because he’d learned at a young age that nothing it in the world comes free.
Kinnosuke-san grinned conspiratorially.
“For you? Consider this a favour.”
[1.3]
“It’s a trap.”
“I know.”
“You know Kinnosuke-san never gives away information for free, don’t you?”
“I know.”
“…but you’re still going.”
“Fortune favours the bold, so as they say.”
“Fortune is evil, Chuuya-nii.”
“I know.”
“…”
[1.4]
I just want to know what it is, Chuuya-kun. Kinnosuke-san said. His tone was wistful as he said it, but even Chuuya could sense that something sinister was lurking behind his voice – a trace of bitterness. He wondered if Kinnosuke-san tried to steal the treasure for himself.
He didn’t bother to ask.
“The old man wasn’t fucking around,” Chuuya said out loud, watching the company of guards assist their master outside. He couldn’t see the master’s face clearly, but he could tell that he was terrifying enough, given the amount of escorts.
The gates of the mansion opened, and the master got in the limousine. 8:55pm.
Just in time.
He’d hid himself well in the nearby trees, dressed in his usual green jacket (as camouflage). He’d told the kids he was only out for another side-job, and he was, technically, except this job didn’t pay like any other jobs.
If Chuuya pulled it off, none of them would ever have to work again.
The thought was enough to get blood pumping in his veins.
He’d wrapped a bandana around his face, before pulling up his hoodie to cover his bright red hair. He’d dropped from the bushes, silent as the wind.
The limousine drove past him, followed by more cars.
Chuuya checked his timer.
9:01PM.
That’s weird. He never leaves late.
But Chuuya didn’t really see any difference with one minute, and with that he proceeded with his plan.
[1.5]
“Third room. Second floor to the right. Beware the dogs.”
“The dogs?”
“I’ve heard they keep lots of it inside the house. Bloodthirsty hounds. If you ever see one, don’t try to engage it. Run.”
“Got it.”
“…good. Be safe, Chuuya-kun.”
“I will.”
“…”
“And Kinnosuke-san?”
“Hm?”
“…how do you know all this?”
“How about this, Chuuya-kun: you answer a question of mine, and I’ll answer yours.”
“Okay.”
“Then I’ll go first: you’re Gifted, aren’t you?”
[1.6]
Chuuya set foot inside the mansion, a faint glow surrounding him like the light of a blood moon. The curtains shifted along with the night breeze.
He caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror, a phantom creeping through the open windows.
I’m not Gifted, he’d told Kinnosuke-san.
It was the same thing he’d told everyone else, but that didn’t make it any less truer.
If anything, he was cursed.
[1.7]
As it turned out, the mansion was even more impressive at the inside.
Chuuya had no idea whose room he’d gotten into, but there was no denying the sheer wealth the family owned: carpeted floors, rosewood furniture, gilded doorways and antique vases – it felt like he’d just stepped into a museum, if the museum was twice as heavily-guarded and well-kept.
Imagine living in a place like this, he thought. There’d be no more cold nights with leaky roofs and rumbling stomachs – they’d each have their own beds and blankets and be comfortable in their silk pajamas.
Chuuya thought of their youngest, a little girl named Yui-chan, and how he’d promised he’d back with lots of money tonight, along with a good story.
I know lots of fairytales, Yui-chan.
Of course, the rest of the kids (except Kousuke-kun) doesn’t know how Chuuya manages to put food in the table every day, or how, despite all odds, they get to keep a roof over their head. But one day, Chuuya told himself. One day, Yui-chan would realize that truth behind Chuuya’s “fairytales”.
Chuuya’s gaze flitted to the gilded drawer at the side of the bed.
She always did have a thing for thieves.
Chuuya could almost imagine this night’s story: to save his kingdom from bankruptcy, the prince must go on a quest to retrieve the world’s most sought-after treasure, while picking up more friends (jewels) along the way.
He approached the drawers and began picking the locks.
He was going to rob this mansion for all it was worth.
[1.8]
Conversations at the dinner table, Pt.1:
“Did he succeed?”
“Of course.”
“Then why wasn’t he rich yet?”
Chuuya eyed the dinner on the table.
“He gave the money away, Yui-chan.”
“But why?”
“He has no use for all that gold, Yui-chan. Besides, other people needed it more than he does.”
“But he was the one who stole it!”
“And what did we say about stealing, Yui-chan?”
[1.9]
“Truly the lowest of the low.” A voice suddenly said, making Chuuya’s soul jump out of his body. What the fuck.
He froze to his spot, jewels and gold in hand. He could feel someone standing behind him, just a mere few feet away, but what bothered Chuuya was –
“How.” He blurted out. “There was – there was – “
He looked back. There was nobody there.
There was a shift in the curtains – the midnight breeze blowing through the room like a whisper. Chuuya clenched the jewels tighter.
“And here I thought you were the real deal.” The voice was beside him now, and it was too close, that Chuuya stumbled back and almost screamed.
His butt landed on the carpet with a thud.
“What – what the fuck?!”
Dark eyes stared down at him, and Chuuya blinked at the dead-eyed specter – no.
It was a kid.
“You’re the first person in a while to ever make it this far, and you’re stealing cheap trinkets?” The boy asked, amused. Chuuya had to rub his eyes to make sure he was seeing what he was seeing - it was a kid. Probably the same age as him - with dead eyes and an elusive smirk – but still.
“They didn’t say anything about a kid,” He whispered. He’d heard about rabid dogs and deadly servants, but they didn’t say anything –
“Of course they wouldn’t.” The kid scoffed, leaning down to offer Chuuya a hand. Chuuya eyed it sceptically.
The kid simply raised an eyebrow, refusing to take his hand away, and Chuuya realized that he wasn’t moving until Chuuya took it – damn him.
“Who are you, even?” He asked, discreetly shoving the rest of the jewels in his hoodie. Although he had a feeling that the kid saw anyway.
Could it be…that he was here for the same thing?
“Take a guess.” The kid smirked, much to Chuuya’s dismay. This kid was taking up his time, but if his guess was right and this kid was a fellow thief…well…
“I guess we could share.” Chuuya conceded, believing it to be the most rational course of action. Nothing would come out of fighting now, especially if they could just fight it out later (when the deed was done and Chuuya could already run off with the money).
The kid stared at him for a while, dumbfounded.
“Come again?” He asked Chuuya, as though unable to believe what he was hearing.
“You’re here for the same reason, aren’t you?” Chuuya checked his watch - 9:10. They need to start moving, fast.
The kid was still staring at Chuuya, his mouth slightly agape.
“You want me…to help you?”
Chuuya narrowed his eyes.
“Do you have any problem with that?”
A heartbeat passed
The kid smiled.
“Nothing.”
[1.10]
“So what is it you’re looking for, exactly?”
“I…I actually don’t know.”
“Eh? But - ”
“I know what I said! It’s just…I know it’s here. Somewhere.”
“You do know that the treasure doesn’t exist, right?”
“The what?”
“The treasure. You know, the one in the rumours. It doesn’t exist.”
“…are you screwing with me?”
“No?”
“I’m not an idiot. If there’s no treasure, why else are you here then?”
“Um…this is my house?”
[1.11]
This is my house.
The words echoed in Chuuya’s head.
He’d stopped dead in his tracks, watching the kid walk a few steps ahead. They’d stopped in mansion’s hallways, surrounded by rows of self-portraits, and that’s how Chuuya wondered how he’d never noticed it before.
Dead brown eyes blinked at him – the same cold stare of the ones that hung from the walls.
A chill went down his spine.
Third room. Second floor to the right.
Chuuya could still make it.
If he could make this kid shut up and act like he didn’t see anything –
“Why didn’t you tell me sooner?”
A scoff. “You never asked.”
Chuuya remained silent. He could take him. Chuuya had taken on plenty of adults before –
“That’s a wonderful expression,” The kid grinned, and for once since he’d gotten in the mansion, he understood why many people were skeptical against robbing it.
It’s a trap.
“You look exactly like the scum who’d trespassed before.” The kid murmured, taking a step forward. It was then Chuuya realized that his eyes were actually a garish shade of red:
The colour Chuuya hated the most.
“You killed everyone who’s ever come here, haven’t you?” He dared to ask, instinctively stepping back. Chuuya’s lips curved into a devilish smile.
“Kill is such a strong word.”
Chuuya waited.
“I prefer the term, giving them a proper welcome.”
As if on cue, a growl ripped through the air, effectively startling Chuuya.
I’ve heard they keep lots of it inside the house. Kinnosuke-san had said. If you ever see one, don’t engage it.
[1.12]
Chuuya didn’t run.
The boy did.