Belle âme || Bungou Stray Dogs × Child!Reader

XI.

Chūya, at once, rushed along the mafia corridors - scintillating however dark the place had always been, both physically and allegorically - upon hearing the arrival of Kouyou in the building. Yet he needed not to venture further; there she stood, exhibiting feminine charm and grace as often as she would.

He frowned amid her presence. "Where... where's (y/n)?"

"My, I wonder?" Closing her eyes in passive defeat, she smiled. "In a better place now, I suppose. I hope."

The younger executive had not much choice but to trust her judgement in the choices she had made prior, and hoped that there laid no cynical contrary on her words.

"On behalf of our boss, I apologize." He muttered. "You must really despise his abrupt decisions."

"Certainly, but what else could I do?" Replied Kouyou. "He is despicable and rightfully so. That kind of disposition is only to acquire Port Mafia's notoriety."

"A notoriety which that child didn't even bother to acknowledge." He chortled lethargically.

The halls were darker than usual. Both supposed that it was only correct for silence to ensue after Chūya's enervating comment.

And while there laid no regrets on her person in regards to the child, the separation impacted her heart in the very least of ways she had expected after years of emotion-depriving service in the mafia. It wasn't as deleterious as the pain had suggested, but it hurt nevertheless. The little girl had touched her human soul, loved her human self, and hurt her human heart. She had been a slave to her affections.

"An ability manifestation, hm?" She hummed tranquilly. Chūya glanced at her, missing not the way she hid a fraction of her face with the sleeve of her kimono to cover a giggle - to cover the threatening tears which would dare risk her reputation. Tears which represented the presence of humanity; which shed for the cruelty of her right decisions.

Breathlessly, she whispered, "She felt so, so human."

But perhaps saying that was simply another symptom of dissociating from trying to remain human. Ruthless murdering had taken away the already inadequate amount of humanity within her, and to feel a spark of such was to bask in the horror of moral judgement as the act of killing was being done.

Though as long as emotions were still very capable of driving her actions, then she had no qualms in continuing to serve the mafia.

▪︎

"I do not like being led around."

An out-of-the-blue phrase amid a lighthearted game of chess. In the security of Uzumaki café, there the little girl sat on the seat opposite to Dazai, whose intellect she came to challenge with through the said board game.

He grinned lopsidedly. "You've figured it out? I'm sorry, (y/n), but I do what I must in order to win this round."

Her quaint eyes blinked a few times, and proceeded to scan the board for confirmation of his words. Upon failing to discover his elusive attack on her pieces, her lips thinned in frustration.

"This is not about the game." Said the little girl. "I think adults tend to disregard what I feel when it comes to dealing with me."

The commencing of this discussion certainly piqued his interest. Looking at the girl as the focus of her eyes were primarily on the board though her words clearly told the focus of her mind was otherwise, he pressed on,

"Wouldn't you want to elaborate further?"

There was this spark of hesitation on her countenance, still she was free from his suspicion; had she been deceiving from the start then he would have found out a long time ago. Her held chess piece - the white queen - was placed down on the square of E6. A bold move for something so important to be risked.

"There was this beautiful man I had met a few nights ago." She began. "He had pale skin, dark hair with frosty tips, and he was an exceptional epitome of a cold season - like the moon somehow experienced a lovely winter."

He hummed shortly.

"I was apprehended by him shortly after our conversation." Her tiny hand felt her wrist, where the marks of Rashoumon were already scarcely prominent. "It hurt a lot. I was confused, which only hurt me more."

"Were you scared?"

"I didn't want to be. I just don't understand how people can be so capable of hurting."

Dazai's black bishop put the white queen to sleep. He smiled at the innocent honesty of her statement, though at the notice of her unsettled disposition of the topic in hand, he realized she had the insecurity of speaking unnecessarily as she feared it would burden the one who would listen.

"Tell me more." He said with an underlying tone of understanding. "You shouldn't worry yourself with sharing a little too much. I listen well."

Her (e/c) eyes lit severely in apprehending his words. Appreciation was distinguished well as she smiled in gratitude, proceeding a relieved sigh of 'thank you,' which he adored intently.

"Thereafter I met someone with stunning pink eyes." Continued the girl. "And when he told me we'd go to the river, he handed me to a girl whose beauty argued with cherry blossom trees."

"I see." The detective nodded in acknowledgement.

"I hope you see my point in all this. They keep passing me around, and it makes me feel like a disregarded object."

Dazai, at length, inclined himself towards his arms, resting his chin on the heel of his palm and looking at the little girl with consolation. "You're no object," he remarked, "as long as you feel, then you're no object, yeah? That's what it means to be human."

This was perhaps said with the most subliminal intent of self-reassurance. Dazai had once lived and survived tender years in a morally-flawed environment that he had thought it would come along with the deprivation of things as trivial as emotions, but was forced to face otherwise with the untimely, lugubrious demise of a friend.

The child was not human, that he knew very well. Still, she was nice to converse with, and being an extension of an ability never was an excuse not to enjoy her presence.

Quite suddenly, the door to the café opened with a chime, and there entered a lean man with ebony-hued hair and thick, round glasses. Dazai offered a glance, and soon gave a derisive leer.