People are afraid of the dark and what lurks in it. They are afraid of her as well.
And yet, Dazai Osamu-- a man drowning in the same sea of shadows that had long since become her home-- was the first to tell her that she belonged to the light.
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(Y/n) sighed into her cup of coffee, wondering why she couldn't just catch a break. She was only eighteen for god's sake, but she felt like she'd aged eighty years in just two weeks.
That may just be a side effect of such wide usage of her ability, however. She'd never made much frequent use of it in order to travel, but covering such large distances seemed to exhaust her more than she was willing to let on. First, it had been the jump from Japan to Turkey, and then from there to France, and even then, sitting across from the strange young man she'd had the misfortune of running into, she was contemplating a next plausible destination in order to make a great escape.
"Your distaste is written all over your face, (Y/n)," the aforementioned young man stated, amused and entirely unfazed that the distaste was so obviously aimed at him.
She shifted, schooling her features into a neutral expression, even though she knew it was pointless. She hadn't bothered trying to hide her dislike for being roped into this meeting since the moment the male had approached her. "Sorry," she muttered with no sincerity, and he clicked his tongue in disapproval.
He sighed. "I didn't think you were so uncooperative," he mused aloud, glancing at her as though she were nothing but an interesting specimen, and she glared at him in irritation, making him shudder and look away, giving into her silent intimidation. "Then let me get to the point."
"Please do," she scoffed under her breath, masking it by taking a sip of her beverage. She'd been waiting for just that since she begrudgingly agreed to accompany to discuss a proposition he had for her.
The only reason she even did that was purely because he knew both hers and Hiroshi's real full names, about them running from the Port Mafia based in Yokohama, of her time as a former assassin of Cosmos, and that they had illegally just appeared in Paris one fine day.
This man had information on them that forced her to ensure he didn't go unchecked. If he pressed too hard, she'd either have to give in to whatever he demanded, or she'd have to get rid of him. There was no scope of leaving any loose ends after all.
The Port Mafia had plenty of connections in the underworld. She knew that if they truly tired hard enough, they would be on her trail the moment she let up. At least, it would be that way for a while.
