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She's intimidating and brooding
And she scares people away, because
She's not made of sugar and spice and everything nice.
But rather fire and lightning
and everything frightening.
People see the smoldering flames
And the raging winds
And they think that she's strong.
They think that she's powerful.
But really, she just tends to burn herself down.
- beautifullytangled
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Oda Sakunosuke, despite being a more 'unimportant' member of the Mafia, was considerably well known within their circles. He was, after all, the only one among them who refused to kill and stood by it. As such, he was referred to as something of an oddity within the Port Mafia, even though by just about anyone else's standards, he was arguably the most 'normal' one there.
Aside from the lack of blood on his hands, his being well known also stemmed from the fact that, somehow, he had ended up befriending Dazai Osamu-- the prodigy of the Mafia. Probably the opposite of Oda in terms of reputation and morals.
Their difference in standing didn't matter, however. It was blatantly obvious to anyone who had ever seen them interact that the two men had bonded irrevocably with each other and were joined by a deep friendship and mutual care.
(Y/n) almost envied their friendship. Almost.
It wasn't as though she was lonely on days when she did not see Dazai. She got along exceptionally well with Chuuya Nakahara, who happened to be one third of the fearsome trio that he, Dazai and (Y/n) formed. Kouyou Ozaki and her often had tea together as well. Or she took the time to check up on Akutagawa Ryunosuke, who she tended to worry about even though he wasn't her trainee.
She knew all too well just how extreme and unrelenting Dazai could be with his training. For someone like Akutagawa it was all too crushing. He was the kind who searched for approval and belonging from those he deemed worthy of his respect. Unfortunately, he received none of that from Dazai, so (Y/n) tended to have to be the one to give him quiet words of approbation when she got the chance.
Akutagawa had grown up in the slums, she knew. He had been shunned away and written off as an abomination because of his abilities just like she had been. (Y/n) couldn't help the sense of sympathy that bubbled in her stomach.
(Y/n) had heard Dazai speak highly of Oda the few times he decided to talk about the man. For Dazai to speak highly of anyone was quite a feat, and so, when she finally did meet the famed Oda Sakunosuke, she found herself analyzing him for what made him different.
It was his eyes, she concluded. The man looked haggard and his resting face was apparently one of quiet exasperation, but his eyes revealed his kindness-- something that was extremely hard to come by in the Mafia.
She hadn't really meant to run into the man. Dazai was occupied with a mission he had to go on with Chuuya, and she had merely been looking for a drink. Lupin's bar, she knew, would let her have one even though she was technically underage, and so she found herself nursing a glass at the bar with no one's company but her own.
Until the tired looking man trudged down the stairs that led into the dimly lit bar, and consequently halted in his spot when he registered just who was sat on the bar-stool that was typically occupied by Dazai.
Oda had picked up on the stories that were spread around the Mafia about (L/n) (Y/n). About her deadly skill-set and the occult ability. About how she had almost singly wiped out a vast majority of the organization she had been previously affiliated with. About how she was on par with Dazai as a force to be reckoned with.
He supposed that she did have a strange air around her. Something that made people look twice when they noticed her because she commanded respect in the way she carried herself. When her gaze turned to him upon his approach, Oda had found himself feeling weighed down by the nonchalant intensity hiding in the depths of the (e/c) pools. An intensity that was hard with something dangerous, wearing a warning that you would get burnt if you stared too long.
But according to what Dazai had told him, that was an aura she projected without quite realizing it. The younger male had conceded that she was clever and lethal with how she used her abilities (and even when she didn't use them), but apparently, (L/n) looked more intimidating than she actually was.
That much was proved the moment she opened her mouth, nodding at him with a polite "Good evening, Oda-san."
He understood the greeting and underlying message that it came with: he was free to sit down with her if he so pleased. So he did, because he honestly could do with a nice cold drink after the day he'd had. There were many in the Mafia that liked to look down on him, but if (L/n) was open to treating him without disrespect, then he could appreciate her efforts in doing so.
"Good evening," he muttered to her in passing, taking his place at the seat he usually took up.
Her lips curved upwards, and he noted that it did wonders to reduce the hostility in her appearance. Somehow, even though he knew the expression wasn't a show of joy, it made her look younger-- more her actual age of eighteen rather than the ages old edge in her eyes. The hard set of her mouth and the sharp lines of her face made her look mature enough to pass for an adult.
"I hope you'll excuse my intrusion. I'm aware of how you, Dazai and Ango-san seem to favor this place, but I was craving a drink, and well," she paused to smile almost sarcastically, "it's not particularly legal."
Oda blinked, slightly taken aback. He had expected her to be more reserved, but she had actively initiated an interaction. "There's nothing to excuse," he responded, shaking his head once. It wasn't like he owned the bar. Anyone was free to drop by regardless of the knowledge of how the three Mafia members tended to frequent the place.
"I won't lie," she began after a pause, staring into the amber liquid that rippled in her glass. "I was hoping I'd get to meet you here."
At the admission, his guard raised and he regarded the girl apprehensively. "Why?"
(L/n) tilted her head. "No particular reason." She shrugged. "I've heard a lot about you, and a good chunk of it is from Dazai, so I suppose I got curious." She glanced at him from the corner of her eye, waiting for any kind of response before she continued. "It is incredibly rare to find someone in the Mafia who refuses to take a life, and I'll confess that I find that quite admirable."
He wouldn't say he was surprised by this. Dazai had mentioned that he knew someone who didn't take so kindly to killing even as she did it, and perhaps it wouldn't be wrong to guess that he had been talking about (L/n).
The girl raised her glass to him in approbation. "You manage to stick to your morals even in a place like the Port Mafia. That deserves some respect, in my opinion. I don't know what keeps you to it. Humanity, maybe? Whatever the case, I'll give credit where credit is due, Oda-san."
As she spoke, he realized that it became easier to breathe in her presence. The daunting air around her had slowly evaporated, no longer suffocating him as though it dared him to try and undermine her by being able to relax until she let him. Oda didn't quite understand what it was about her or how she projected that kind of atmosphere, but it was definitely effective in ensuring that nobody would ever try to question the fact that (L/n) was powerful.
"Does your determination to not kill anyone have to do with something you're hoping to do." It wasn't really a question- more like verbal musing, but he stilled nonetheless and she picked up on it. "It almost comes off as having religious roots," she told him, taking a sip of whatever she was nursing in her glass.
Oda shook his head at that. "It's not really religious," he denied truthfully, and she hummed in easy acceptance. "Have you ever wanted to leave the Mafia, (L/n)-san?" The honorific felt weird but he knew that it would be a foolish risk to not use it. His question was risky enough in itself but his gut told him that asking her hadn't been the wrong thing to do. The fact that he didn't see a vision of any impending danger was a welcome reassurance though.
Her eyebrows shot up, but she didn't look up from the light dancing across the surface of her drink. "I've considered it here and there. Nothing concrete though." She eyed him, almost like she knew something. "For now, at least." The girl shook her head after a moment, smiling ironically. "That's the second time I've been asked that recently."
He didn't quite know what kind of reply he was supposed to give to that. Quite often, Oda was thrown off by the many characters that made up the Port Mafia. (L/n) would just have to be added to that list.
Before anything else could be said, the eighteen-year-old turned her attention to her side where a vaguely disfigured shape of black mist was being pooled together, reminding him of smog.
When she asked it what the matter was, Oda realized dazedly that it was a shadow. A shadow that was communicating with her. He had never heard of her ability covering that particular base as well, but he figured nobody but (L/n) could know the true extent of what she could do.
The shadow responded to her inquiry while he watched curiously from behind her. It wasn't like the shadow had a voice exactly but he could decipher that it was 'speaking'. It almost sounded like a faint breeze in the distance but...colder, somehow. More unnatural. Oda could feel a chill run down his spine.
"It appears that Dazai has decided to drop by after all," (L/n) muttered. Slipping off the stool, she turned to him with a soft smile-- a kind one, he realized.
On her face, it seemed to be reminiscent of something sad. (L/n) reminded him of an old marble stature-- standing tall and proud so you couldn't notice the cracks in the stone. She had the kind of beauty he would attribute to one of those Greek statues he had seen in books. The kind that spelled tragedy just as much as it spoke of greatness and the stuff legends are made of.
"Dazai speaks very highly of you, Oda-san," she told him, "and I can see why. You're a good man-- better than most of us could ever hope to be-- and I'm glad that he has you for a friend. Dazai...lives in a world of perpetual darkness. He needs the kind of light you bring into his life. As someone who cares about him, I suppose I just wanted to thank you for that."
He stayed silent, staring up at her while she held his gaze, looking up into the face cut from stone and the eyes that burned with storms waiting to happen and the battles she had survived. At last, Oda nodded. For what? He wasn't sure.
But (L/n) nodded back before grabbing her coat from the empty stool on her other side. "I'll take my leave now," she informed, slipping her arms through the sleeves of the black trench coat and tossing the money she owed for the drink onto the counter. "Goodbye, Oda-san."
"Goodbye," he returned quietly, watching her figure disappear up the stairs before turning back to his untouched drink. The heaviness in the air seemed to evaporate in her absence, even though he had stopped registering it in the first place, and Oda sighed, letting his shoulders drop and finally acknowledging the forthcoming of a pounding headache.
Closely following her departure was the appearance of Dazai Osamu, the boy offering a cheerful greeting to Oda before taking note of the unfinished drink on the counter and the warmth of the stool as he sat on it.
"Did you have company, Odasaku-kun?" Dazai asked, blinking slowly at his older friend as the latter nodded in confirmation.
"A lost girl," Oda decided, because from what he had seen, (L/n) was just that at her essence. His gaze slid to Dazai, who reeked of the same tragedy as she did. "A girl who asked me to find her lost boy."
The brunet tilted his head, more curious than confused. "Do you think you can do it?"
Oda exhaled, his breath fogging up the glass as he brought it to his lips. "We'll see."
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You carry the heavens
in your eyes
like one of those old
Greek tragedies.
And I'd call you Atlas,
but he wasn't given
a choice to hold the stars.
You were.
-yet you still break your back by holding the sky in your palms || p.d
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