"It's a gamble," she warns him, but she's already leaning up slightly to meet him halfway.
"We will either heal together," he concludes, mouth already pressed to hers, "or we will both be destroyed."
And, together, they fall.
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Dazai Osamu hears about the Devil's Apprentice before he ever gets to meet her. It's hard not to come across her name in the criminal world.
She is, after all, a bit of a legend.
Protege of the head of infamous assassin organization, Cosmos, and apparently, quite a force to be reckoned with. They say that she is the mistress of all shadows and darkness; that there is nowhere she cannot go and no man she cannot kill.
Osamu finds her hugely interesting.
He is aware, from the multiple rumors that circulate about her, that she is only around sixteen. What he gleans from this is that she is his age and she is as much a sinner, if not more, as him. That he is not entirely alone in this miserable manner of existence.
How strange, he thinks, to find solace within a person he has never met.
He hadn't known what to think when Mori first informed him of his temporary partnership with the Apprentice, who the Mafia had taken in only a few months prior since the abrupt disablement of Cosmos as an agency. He had never imagined meeting the girl.
And yet, there she stands, in front of the Boss's mahagony desk. Tangible. Real. And surprisingly human.
He has to blink for a moment. Perhaps, the idea of something so lethal had manifested within his head with the image of a monster, but then he supposes the worst monsters-- the real ones, that is-- are the ones that walk amongst the regular, wearing masks to hide the blood of those who have fallen by their hands.
And what a lovely mask it is, he thinks when she turns a fraction, just enough to catch him in her line of sight and hold him there.
There is a discerning stillness about her that makes him think it would be so easy to miss her if one didn't know to look. Which he thinks is shame because she must be among the most interesting people in Yokohama.
"Meet (Surname) (Name)," Mori says, waving his hand vaguely in her direction. "Your partner for the duration of this mission."
She holds Osamu's gaze, eyes dark and metallic, cold with something that glazes them over unreadably. They're almost reflective in a way that's curious, and they seem to hold him in place with a threatening iron grip, daring him to breathe or to undermine or challenge her.
For a long moment, neither of them say anything, waiting for the other to make a move. Then she nods in greeting and he manages a quick smile, mechanical and automatic by now.
(Name)'s eyes seem to sharpen, her posture straightening for a millisecond that is easy to look over and miss. But he notices, and he wonders if his charade is already up. How very interesting.
The mission is simple enough, but he estimates it will last at least four days because of the requirement of secrecy.
It's for the better, he decides. After all, he has undertaken a perosnal mission of his own, and that is to unravel the seeming enigma known as (Surname) (Name).
