How did things end up this way?

Chuuya glared at Dazai, trying to figure out why his superiors in the Port Mafia would want him to work with this insufferable guy again. If it were just a difficult case, then no doubt the Armed Detective Agency would just send its glasses-wearing dog to solve it, so why did Chuuya have to tolerate the likes of Dazai yet again?

"Stop sulking, Chuuya," Dazai complained loudly, putting his feet on Chuuya's lap. The two of them were sitting in a booth in a particular bar - a very mediocre joint called The Jazz - that they were supposed to be investigating. Supposedly, people had been disappearing from here every other night or so after appearing to lose their minds.

Resisting the urge to throw Dazai out the nearest window, Chuuya removed the offending legs. "I'm not sulking," he snapped sharply. "I'm actually trying to concentrate, unlike you."

Dazai grinned. "Of course I'm concentrating," he protested, attempting to put his feet back. "This might be tricky, you know, Chuuya. They even assigned me to this case instead of Ranpo. They probably figure that only my charisma and skills are suited for this dangerous task."

There was a long pause, during which Chuuya pinched Dazai's leg as hard as he could. "I sincerely doubt that."

"Come on, be nice, Chuuya." Chuuya didn't have to look at Dazai to know that he was pouting as he withdrew his feet. "I know...you're short, you're partnered with me, and life's tough. But look on the bright side!"

"What bright side?" Chuuya growled, swinging around to glare at his partner, but Dazai was already distracted, craning his neck to get a look at someone across the bar.

Chuuya was about to repeat himself when Dazai softly said, "We've found the next victim."

Instantly, Chuuya was serious; as much as he would love to give Dazai a piece of his mind, they had a job to do. He lowered his voice, too, asking, "How do you know who it is?"

Dazai smiled mischievously. Chuuya didn't even have time to be nervous about that before Dazai had deftly removed his hat and spun it on his finger triumphantly.

"This hideous hat," he declared, raising his voice again.

The couple at the booth next to theirs jumped in shock as Chuuya tackled Dazai across the table, making a wild grab for the abused hat. Every bit of food and silverware flew off the table and both men went crashing to the ground, Dazai laughing, Chuuya cursing and hissing.

Unsurprisingly, their little bout did not go unnoticed by the bar's owner, who began to stomp menacingly in their direction. Chuuya kicked Dazai toward the intimidating woman, planning to throw the bandaged idiot under the bus and flee for his life, but the owner had only just grabbed Dazai by the throat when a shrill scream interrupted them.

It became instantly clear where the commotion was coming from. Only a few tables over, a man was standing, as if cornered, against the wall. His eyes were wild and his chest was heaving; spittle flew from his lips as he snarled at his companion, a young woman. She looked terrified of him, and her cheek was an angry red color, as if it had been struck.

The bar's owner jumped off of Dazai and sprinted to the counter, probably to phone the police or grab a weapon. Dazai and Chuuya, however, were already approaching the man.

Chuuya flinched, irritated, as the crazed man's sudden shriek assaulted his ears. "He's all yours, Dazai. Please, feel free to ask him anything."

Dazai gave him a fake, ear to ear grin. "Chuuya! The young man is clearly asking for an appointment with you! Go on, I wouldn't dream of interfering."

"I insist," hissed Chuuya in return. "Go on, you waste of bandages." He stretched out his gloved hands and shoved Dazai directly into the lunatic, causing the detective to yelp.

Chuuya saw Dazai activate his ability as a precaution, but their quarry wasn't interested in using abilities. Instead, with inhuman speed, the man seized Dazai's arm and twisted hard. An abnormal sound resulted, like bone sliding on bone, and Chuuya thought he saw Dazai's eyes widen.

For some reason, that pissed Chuuya off. It was probably just Dazai's stupid face. In any case, Chuuya suddenly felt like breaking various parts of this crazy idiot. He rushed forward, allowing a grin to spread across his face; after all, this kind of fighting was what really got his blood flowing.

It would be a simple enough move; one of the man's arms was already occupied with the bandaged idiot, so Chuuya could easily get past his defenses. It took only a moment to deftly dodge under the man's free arm, aiming a solid punch for his solar plexus. Chuuya was confident that his motion was perfect. He was too fast for Dazai to keep up with, and, he was sure, too fast for his opponent as well.

He heard the huff of air as his strike knocked the breath from the man's body and couldn't help but snicker. He'd go for the free arm next; he could already picture it in his mind's eye, feel the pressure point under his fingers, see the body flipping over as he twisted-

Before Chuuya could do so much as grab the targeted arm, however, something hit him - hard - in the face, knocking him back and to the ground. Dimly, he registered that the man had released Dazai and used that hand to attack. Bright lights exploded behind his eyelids and he shook his head to clear it, nearly knocking off his beloved hat.

By the time Chuuya had come back to his senses, the perpetrator had already escaped, leaving a trail of terrified-looking customers and overturned tables in his wake.

How the hell did he move that fast? It wasn't like Chuuya to be caught so utterly off-guard in a hand-to-hand fight. Something was definitely off.

"Getting rusty, I see, Chuuya," Dazai commented impishly from his spot on the floor. Chuuya's first instinct was to stomp over and strangle the man, but he noticed that Dazai was clutching his right arm and looking rather uncomfortable.

Well, whatever. It's not really a fair fight if he's injured.

"C'mon, you helpless bandage heap," Chuuya grunted, grudgingly extending a hand. Dazai took it with a simply irritating smile, and Chuuya shuddered a bit. "Guy's disappeared, so let's get that bruise checked out before you get me killed."

He pulled up his useless partner, hoping that the bar's owner wouldn't stop them. Luckily, she seemed to be occupied with picking up the fragments of a broken greenish bottle; she seemed to be upset enough over the smashed merchandise that she didn't notice or care when the two of them left. She didn't even seem to have called the police.

Chuuya frowned, glancing back at her as he supported Dazai out of the door. That owner sure must be fond of whatever liquor that green bottle had held.