When Dazai received the case earlier this morning about a young woman being kidnapped, even he hadn’t expected it to have turned out this way.
Having joined the Port Mafia, it wasn’t odd for the boss to send you on odd jobs. Yesterday, the boss requested that you take out a group of enemy skill users after reconnaissance. You let yourself be captured by them once they found you first, everything fell into place.
When you receive an injury, your ability allows you to transfer the abuse onto another person.
This morning, a citizen stopped by the Agency offices distressed, making the report on witnessing a kidnapping. He had seen a woman be taken by a group of men. The man gave a description of you, the men who took you, and Dazai was the one to take the case on.
After all, how could Dazai in good conscience ignore a beautiful woman in need of rescue?
So, here Dazai is, stepping into a desolate warehouse hours later. His hands are calmly in the pockets of his coat, and he turns his hand, scanning over his surroundings. The place looks as if it’s abandoned, but he knows it runs rampant with crime here. It’s set up enough to indicate there have been people operating here.
Dazai takes note of what appears to be a trail of fresh blood, following it along the wall. Turning the corner, there’s the corpse of a man, very clearly passed away. Ahead of him is a sight he finds haunting.
It’s a quicker find than he thought it’d be.
There you are, poor victim, standing facing him a distance away. You’re in a tattered dress now, bits of dirt on your skin, hair a mess.
Only, something isn’t right here at all. Before you lie the corpses of the other men, the ones who had taken you, the ones who had been reported to the Agency. They’re all bleeding from several wounds, but it’s too late for Dazai to do anything about it.
Your dress is splattered in blood, but there’s no injury on you at all. It’s not your blood. You hold a knife in your dominant hand, arm dropped by your side as if this is a job well done. Your gaze raises to Dazai’s, the look on your eyes too familiar to him the way you move even more so.
That’s not just a regular citizen, not even a common person, certainly not a victim…