Denouement

ᴀ ᴅᴇɴᴏᴜᴇᴍᴇɴᴛ ɴᴇᴇᴅꜱ ɴᴏ ᴇxᴘʟᴀɴᴀᴛɪᴏɴ.

. . .

A couple of months, half of a year, perhaps that's how much it had passed since you officially joined the Agency. You weren't sure. You had lost track of time way before.

Working there - could it even be considered as work? Besides the occasional riveting missions, you were mostly buying Ranpo candies. He took a liking to you. The rest of the bunch didn't seem too bad either. In fact, you could say you liked them as well.

But a simple problem shrouded your everyday life - the problem being your entire past.

Yes, you were excused for your crimes. Yes, you were forgiven for your previous allegiance to The Rats in The House of The Dead. Yes - they fully supported your "recovery", Dazai especially. They tried so hard, they accepted you as one of their own in no time. None of it seemed fake and all of it seemed honest, coming from each and every member of the Agency.

If only that were a lie, you'd feel better, but it all appeared true, and the more time you spent with them, the closer they got to your heart. Too close - you warned yourself whenever you'd find yourself smiling for no reason in the office. And it happened too often. They grew far too dear to you, you realized, so you set off your plan immediately.

However, you were full of hope at first - believing someone would rescue you somehow. You ought not stay with the enemy, yet nothing ever happened, not even a hint that aid would come. So you tried to fit in, not to cause trouble, and ever so occasionally, you glanced at the cameras, hoping at least Dostoyevsky was watching.

But soon, the idea abandoned you forcefully. Dazai noticed your habit of taking a peek at cameras and called it out in front of everyone. That scared you, as that must've meant he kept a careful eye on you. Either that, or he was unnaturally perceptive. Along with the veil of secrets you knew he harbored, he gave you a reason to feel scared of him for the umpteenth time.

And so was your hope soon replaced with paranoia.

In the end, he was the first one who woke you up from those faulty aspirations and he explained you things the way they were meant to be - Dostoyevsky wouldn't risk his entire organization for rescuing one member. You didn't feel too grateful, as you already had other things on your mind.

The Agency was dangerous, you were sure of it, and you - you weren't innocent at all. There was no reason to act like that anymore. There was no Ivan you were trying to impress. You could go all out, unleash your ability's full potential and burn the Agency to ashes.

A silly notion, of course. But as time passed and as you went on missions, it got more and more likely for you to accomplish it. Escaping and running away was not an option, as you were sure they'd planted a tracking device somewhere on you, so you might as well do something useful for your actual organization.

Because, if you caused such ruckus - and you knew you were capable of it - perhaps you could even escape for good. Then you'll go home and never leave it again.

If not, at least you'd sacrifice yourself for the greater, higher good.

And your mom? Your dad who came by a couple of times? They can stay at their home, you won't bother them. You knew where you belonged.

. . .

"Angel!" Dazai called after you by your nickname, and you spun around in your chair, an agitated face already prepared for him.

"What is it?" You huffed angrily at him.

"Stop acting like Kunikida, angel, I was about to ask you out," he pouted.

"Oh!" Now that was... nice, for a change. He was flirting with you for a while now - something that painfully reminded you of Ivan of course. But you chose to go with the flow, as you'd soon leave the building on your own anyway. So you accepted the offer, acting all flustered and surprised. Dazai was overjoyed.

"You know what type of, heh, going out is this, don't you?" He giggled childishly.

You chuckled - at times, he indeed was adorable. "Yeah, you're asking me out on a date," you suggested, and he clapped in approval.

"Yeah, I'm asking my lovely (Y/N) on a date," he chanted and took your hand, lifting you from the chair.

"You're taking your colleague out during work hours?! This is unacceptable!" Kunikida practically yelled.

"It's not my fault you can't find your ideal woman. There's no need being salty about it," Dazai stuck his tongue out at Kunikida, who in turn got even angrier and was now threatening to physically hurt the brunet.

"Uh-oh, I think we should leave," Dazai whispered to you and immediately ran away, taking you with him.

As soon as you were outside the building, he stopped running, much to your relief.

"So where are you taking me?" You asked him, not particularly interested to find out.

"That's a surprise!" He grinned. "I'm sure you'll like it."

You really didn't care about it. You just went along with whatever he'd suggest, as usual.

"I hope so! So how far is it?"

"We'll walk a while until we reach the spot. Until then, let's just enjoy the nature and chit-chat like we usually do!" He spread his arms, still smiling, and the scene forced a quick smirk on your face as well.

"Nature? Where's that?" You asked.

"Nature is wherever you want it to be! There, look, a pigeon!" He pointed across the street where a pigeon was walking down the pavement, bobbing its head around.

"What if I wanted nature to be all around me?" You countered.

"Then I'd gladly take you to the woods! Where the birds chirp, where life is ripe! To the mountains, up high, where the clouds meet the land..." he sung, eyes closed, "and down under, in the underground," he ended abruptly.

Your swallowed hard and flashed a surprised look at him. You revealed too much with that initial shock, but it was too late.

"What? I already know your friend Fyodor is working somewhere in the underground," he shrugged. You mentally scoffed at the way he called Dostoyevsky your "friend" - you'd never consider the Demon as a person truly close to you.

"Why are you reminding me of that, then? Why are you bringing that up, when you know I'm doing my best to forget it all. You're up to something, and I don't like it" you accused him.

"Truth be told, I'm guilty," he laughed. "But let me have this talk. Just this once."

You squinted at him. You didn't trust him one bit - you never did. "Okay," you reluctantly told him, dragging out that "o" at the start. "But don't, please don't go too far, that's the only thing I ask of you," you pleaded.

"Of course! Thank you so much!" He cheered and went straight down to business:

"You're still obsessed with them, aren't you?"

"I'm trying not to think about them, but with you forcing me to tell you literal, well, gossip about them on a daily basis, it's kind of hard to forget."

"Oopsie, I'm sorry about that. But it's better to talk out these things than to bury them deep inside," he lectured you. "However, there's something that you still can't let go. Something that became an essential part of you."

"Pfft, as if I'd ever tell you everything," you openly admitted.

"No, that's not what I'm talking about," he said as he jumped over a pond, "I meant - there is something that you won't ever... how do I put it," he pinched his chin.

"I won't ever let go? That's what you said earlier," you tried to help.

"No, no, something you won't ever... betray," he finally spoke. "Something that doesn't let you be you. I don't know what that thing is, but it's preventing you from becoming the truly good person you are," he stated.

"So you're telling me that even now, as I am, I am capable of being a good person?"

"No. Because of that something deep inside of you, you can't."

"And how did you even figure there's this thing inside of me? What if I'm just..." you tried to find the right word, but in the end you picked the most blunt one: "crazy?"

"You? Crazy? That's arguable," he chuckled. "You see, something is still keeping you loyal to them. It doesn't take a genius to notice it. I mean, you think you can actually hide it?"

You shook your head and sighed. "What if I simply don't care at all?"

He burst out in laughter. "You, not care, about them? That's impossible. Come on, don't tell me those bombs were for nothing."

You stopped in your tracks. How did he know?

He walked in front of you, setting himself right there, a meter or so away, legs spread out, hands tucked in his long coat. He gave you a grin - one you could only perceive as a first-class mockery.

"There's no fooling the Agency, (Y/N)," his expression softened as he spoke.

And what about you? You were left simply dumbfounded. "So you look through my bag when I'm not watching?" You asked him, not knowing what else to do.

"No! I mean, I did, once, but not this time," he simply smiled, "but you know, we can't get too careful when it comes to any member of the Agency."

You raised your eyebrow, stepping away from him. You had to run - it was the only thing you could do. The bombs in your bag would explode on their own anyway. However, just as before, you needed time to figure a way out. Or simply to... bluff. So you asked him: "Doesn't that apply to you too?"

"Oh, that especially applies to me," he frowned. "Also, an important lesson: when you're stalling, you're giving time to your opponent as well."

"Ah, really? Then you won't mind if I jump into the street right now and commit suicide?"

"That'd hardly kill you, and yes, I would mind," his tone darkened, as you were clearly calling him out.

"Good, I want you to suffer," you spat at him, then suddenly began laughing.

Dazai just stared at you, creeped out. "Why do all of you crazy evil guys have to make that maniacal laugh at one point?"

"Because this is the end of you!" You roared, pretending to activate your ability - only to act surprised when it didn't work. And Dazai's reaction seemed to fit your plan perfectly.

"No wonder your ability doesn't work. I've touched you before we went out, making sure that all of the potential abilities you've digested before, won't work."

"Ah, shucks," you cursed and stomped, triumphing  on the inside. "So, death sentence it is?"

"...What?" Dazai was confused by your evident joy.

"The authorities don't have to come. I'll do the job for them... I sentence myself to death," you exclaimed. What came next was chaos - unfolded by your ability, strengthened by a dozen of others, ready to destroy everything in its wake.

. . .

Your entire body hurt. It was sore, terribly sore, every part of it, from your head to your toes. You were unable to move - exhaustion didn't allow you to.

...yet you were able to feel! A sensation you thought you'd get rid of. That very fact brought you back to life - you were suddenly anxious to find out where you were, what happened.

You shot your eyes open - the dim light didn't do you any good - and you found yourself in a grey room. Empty, cold, no windows - a setting excitingly familiar. Only one person there, on your right, tending to something on a table. The one person your frail heart already told goodbye to.

"Ivan...?" You spoke, your voice hoarse, leaving a trail of pain in your throat. Your lover turned around, the familiar shimmer of his silver hair filling your vision.

"You woke up!" He exclaimed, only to rush and kneel next to your bed. If only you could lean in and kiss him, kiss that surprised face of his... but you couldn't, you were unable to move. You expected him to be the one to do that instead - but he didn't. He just stood there, next to you, eyeing you with what seemed like curiosity.

He didn't kiss you? What had happened to you..? Perhaps your face was full of scars and -

No. It didn't hurt you when you spoke, when you tried to grimace. It was okay, it was completely alright - it didn't even hurt now. Then why...?

"Do you need anything or should I call Master?" He asked you all of a sudden, breaking you out of your thoughts.

"I, well, Ivan..." you began, not knowing what to say. Ivan seemed far too... dull, unmoved, even as you gazed into his dark eyes - they didn't show anything. In your memory, they were capable of displaying such intense emotion! However, now, as if it all went to nothing. Something about this reunion didn't feel right and it unsettled you to the core.

"Yes?" He responded, tone blank.

You stared at him and he - he looked away. You felt your very heart distort.

"Those bandages on your head... what happened?" You tried to initiate a conversation, anything, to hear him more, maybe to bring back life to that suddenly flat voice of his.

"Bandages? Oh, that," he smiled vacantly, "Master removed anything but happiness in my head, a great feat..."

"Wh-what?" you could hardly believe what you were hearing.

"It is exactly as I say, miss (L/N). I am no longer capable of feeling anything but utter joy!"

Miss (L/N)?

"Ivan... just, what are you talking about," your voice broke.

"Master, he saved me from sorrow, and replaced it with complete happiness. Isn't that truly godlike?" He spoke with plastic admiration.

"Sorrow...?" He couldn't possibly mean...

"I couldn't remember. Master was kind enough as to remove the memory of that terrible event as well."

No. You couldn't believe it. You refused to believe it.

"Ivan, have we," you choked, "have we met before?"

"No."

It all made sense now, at last you realized, and at that very moment, your mind went empty. The knowledge of what had happened was too much. You began suffocating, your throat squeezing on its own so violently - and you didn't even bother to start breathing again. In this horrid situation, you might as well die, abandon this hell! For your world was gone, evaporated, as if it never existed.

You moved your gaze to your hands, to your pale hands. You couldn't bear to see that man anymore. He didn't exist - that, that was just a shell, something that once held Ivan's memories, nothing more.

Then this stranger cleared his throat and excused himself. "I'll call Master now," he added and left the room, but you were alone for quite a while now.

In a fervor like you've never felt before, you stood up, allowed your feet reach the cold ground - and you felt it. The gentle freeze on your skin and nothing else.

"Welcome, (Y/N)."

Oh, how you loathed that voice! That slithery ring it had, that wondrous gentle tonality it held, it was all so fake, a terrible facade to hide what it truly represented - a monster, an obscure monster.

And he came in, he stepped inside as if nothing happened at all. Dostoyevsky, apathy himself.

"Y-you..." you didn't know what to say. Your thoughts were reduced to a null - a defense mechanism, perhaps, you couldn't judge.

"Me? Me."

"I - I..." you began trembling against your own will.

He grinned at you. "You? Collateral damage."

"You can't do this! Not to me! Not... not to -"

"Not to him?" Dostoyevsky guessed right. "It never was about you in the first place. What makes you so angry?"

"You... you brainwashed him," you wailed the fact out loud.

"Oh, I did, and have you seen him? He's ecstatic, he'll remain ecstatic for the rest of his life. You should be happy, if anything," he spoke with lethargy, and you found yourself boiling even further.

"That's... wrong," you couldn't voice your raging mind properly. "That's..."

"No, that's selfish of you, dear (Y/N), to wish pain upon your loved one," his words struck you in your spot - your heart, it may sound silly, but it ripped in half quite literally, again.

"You have no heart! How dare you twist my words like that! How dare you even think I'd wish something bad to Ivan!" You fought back.

"I'm not thinking anything in particular, in fact - this matter doesn't interest me the least."

Once again did he lift himself above you, far away, unreachable to your petty needs and filthy tongue. Whatever you tried - he showed no remorse. He was unable to connect himself with your trivial self. He didn't have to. To him, you realized, this was a ceremony, a pretty show to feed his ego the size of a God. You were a simple human he chose to have fun with, to practice his demagogy on. A true God, mortals never did bother him. And a heart, the one thing that a God should love with? God never needed one - he only ought to act as if he had one.

You should be honored he chose to waste his time on you.

"Then why are you doing this? Why are you... why did you do that to him?" you could only ask away, feed his lofty curiosity with your pathetic own.

"I need capable, level-headed subordinates who'll function properly, simple as that."

And he was a Demon, a terrible Demon who cared not about morals - even in the slightest.

"And why... why are you doing this to me?" You cried out, fully aware that his reasoning concerning Ivan couldn't be changed.

"This? This right now?" He raised his eyebrows for emphasis. "This was only a prelude for what's to come. Here I am, a God in form of a priest, ready to guide you on Earth before final salvation is granted. But first, first you must atone for your sins, first, you must confess and show remorse, to me, your God."

And he truly was a Rat, the harbinger of plague and death, shrouded in black and squealing his rat language that you couldn't understand. And even as such, he was greater than you.

You fell to the ground, where you rightfully belonged, and you knelt, looking up to that monster, only to have one last cry of defiance:

"I don't need salvation."

"That is not on you to decide," he stressed, beating you even lower, and down you looked, not daring to face him.

"But in the end, every human being deserves salvation after proper punishment. Then... do tell, you wish only the best for your love, don't you?"

Your blurry gaze immediately shot upwards, and you stared at him, alarmed. He stared back, just as calm as before.

"What do you mean?"

"You believe he will be happy once you come back to him, to the true him. But that persona is gone, forever, along with his love for anyone but me, his sole savior," he stung you, "then let me ask a reasonable question: what now?"

You didn't know.

"You had a life, you no longer do. You had a purpose, you lost it. What now?"

You didn't know.

"You were stripped away of the only thing you ever held dear. Your love for Ivan. Now, you have only yourself and God for God is always there."

You nodded, trying your best to suppress the forceful shaking of your chest.

"Yet the source of all those troubles is standing right in front of you. Did you know? He doesn't feel a single emotion towards you, he doesn't even flinch as he moves closer to you. He knows his intentions can't be moved by a single pained soul. Perhaps he should feel regret, but God must bring out punishment and thus, salvation. That is right. That is just. And so is your death."

And so, he spreads out his arm, he nears your lowly form. From above, he watches you. He forms a scene so serene, light bathing against his darkness. You fluttered your eyes closed, unworthy of that sight, and in a singular moment that you couldn't identify, he finally touched you.

No longer did your chest move.

. . .

A/N: I can't wait to see your reactions lmao

@-murmurous dear, are you amused?

Next comes ataraxy.