Eight

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Chuuya groans as he wakes up. His entire body is stiff, and a chill thick in his bones. The annoying nuisance of his phone ringing as he tugs it from its place on his nightstand. He sees Gin Akutagawa's contact and pinches his forehead before answering.

    "Morning," He says staring at the wall ahead of him.

    "Thank god you picked up, Nakahara, Tachihara is still asleep." She says, her voice peculiarly kind and lighthearted for the venom dripping in her words.

    "What do you need, Gin?"

    "D'you know what we're supposed to be wearing today? Like formal or what?" He hears rustling and plastic clicking together through the phone.

    "To what?" He asks, confused.

    "To that stupid thing with the detective agency,"

    "What thing?"

    "Please tell me you're not hungover, we have to work with the agency, remember?" She must have turned to stare at her screen because her voice comes through louder.

    "Shit," He jumps up, tripping over his feet.

    "And you forgot, pleasant," Gin sighs sarcastically. "Now what are you wearing? I don't want to show up looking like a fool."

    Chuuya shuffles over to grab his jacket and a new shirt from his closet. Setting his hat and a pair of pants on the pile. "I'm wearing what I usually do, Gin, make it practical though, who knows what the hell we'll be doing."

    "Don't get all angry with me, it's not like I'd be doing this if I had a choice."

    She hangs up on him, and Chuuya struggles to throw the clothes he'd changed into off. Time to try and not kill anybody, he thinks to himself. It wasn't going to be pleasant, yet some part of him wasn't bothered by the prospect of the agency.

    Shrugging his jacket over his shoulders, Chuuya grabs his gloves off the nightstand.

    "Let's do this shit," He says, staring out the window.

    The drive to the Armed Detective Agency building was surprisingly short. Chuuya had forgotten how close he lived to the workplace.

    He ended up pulling into an alley, with a exit from the coffee house that had been under the agency. Chuuya walked around front, and walked inside. Climbing the stairs he came to the floor with voices ringing about and was stopped by a young woman walking out of a small office, and smiling at him.

    "Nakahara Chuuya, right?" She asks, offering a hand. Chuuya takes it and nods.

    "Follow me," There is no demand in her voice, yet it holds an air of authority. Chuuya shuffles closely at her heels, as she opens the door to a room. She walks inside and he follows. There were two couches and a table in it. She gestures for him to take a seat.

    "There are two more coming from the mafia, correct?" The woman peers at him.

    "Yes." He responds.

    "Alright, I'll keep an eye out for them and when you all arrive our president will be meeting with you," Chuuya nods, and the woman freezes on her way out the door before hurrying back the way they'd come.

    He stares around him, taking in the exits and decor of the room. There were two simple windows, and the door. Chuuya didn't trust himself to know the building well enough to get through the interior though.

    He hears two pairs of footsteps, the woman's shoes from before and another pair. Looking over to the doorway, he sees the woman talking and smiling brightly. Red creeping down her ears. Who's got her all flustered?

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