Chapter 11

Fourteen Years Old (Eleven)

"So I don't find it hard at all; I can even say I like it."

As for how it feels to be a star? That wasn't something Kae cared about.

Whether basking in great fame or sinking into a slump, as long as she could keep singing on stage, that was more than enough for her.

"I see," Chuya Nakahara responded with a nod, then muttered almost to himself in a matter-of-fact tone, "Now that you mention it, that guy really does love acting..."

Even after all this time, Chuya found he could clearly recall each member of the troupe’s faces, and of course, he remembered the public relations officer’s expression every time he mentioned his upcoming movies and dramas.

So that guy didn’t just act out of the demands of the Port Mafia; he genuinely loved performing, deriving real satisfaction and joy from the process.

Realizing this, Chuya’s expression brightened somewhat. It was as if he was gathering fragments of the past bit by bit, placing them carefully into a box, like treasures known and cherished only by himself.

If the public relations officer were still alive, he might have taken a liking to Kae and invited her to star in one of his films, Chuya mused quietly.

"I understand. Thank you," said Chuya, already scheming in his heart what kind of gift to give Kae in return.

Though it was a simple question, for Chuya Nakahara, it carried a distinct value and significance.

“Just a question,” Kae replied nonchalantly. “Besides, you’re friends with Dazai, aren’t you?”

Dazai Osamu had helped Kae a great deal, and now she was more than willing to return the favor by assisting one of his friends.

Upon hearing this, Chuya’s face twisted into a strange expression.

Friends? Him and Dazai?? Who in their right mind would want to be friends with that guy?

If anyone else had said such a thing, Chuya would have erupted in anger, ready to jump up and argue. But faced with Kae, a girl so utterly disconnected from their world and standing firmly on the side of light, many words that might have escaped became weighed and measured.

After weighing his options, Chuya chose to remain silent, tacitly accepting the notion.

This... this is what they call a ‘white lie’! Dazai wouldn’t know anyway, so let her be mistaken!

Chuya forced himself to believe this, pressing his hat down tightly, reluctant for Kae to see the expression on his face.

Growing uneasy, he hastily sought another topic: “Dazai’s side should be about done. Let’s head back.”

With that, he strode ahead in long strides, moving as if being chased by some unseen monster.

***

"Ah, you’re back," said Dazai Osamu with a weary air as Chuya and Kae reappeared at the dim, secluded intersection, a place few dared approach.

Nearby lay a man sprawled limply on the ground. Judging from his face and expression, he was barely alive—a blankness so profound, as if his mind and spirit had been shattered, making one wonder if death might be a kinder fate.

“You’re slow. I almost suspected Chuya had kidnapped Kae and was about to report it!” Dazai complained, his tone ambiguous—whether joking or serious was unclear.

Veins nearly bulging on his forehead, Chuya inwardly applauded Dazai’s remarkable endurance and tolerance that had kept him alive till now.

“What kind of things did you ask him?” wanting to make a decent impression on Kae and avoid a confrontation with Dazai, Chuya changed the subject.

This was serious business, so Dazai grew slightly more serious: “We did find out quite a few alarming things.”

His gaze swept over the black cube Kae had casually hung from her belt like an ornament. A sinister smile crossed his lips.

“That is his ability—he can turn any shadow-covered area within a certain range into his own domain and manipulate the shadows to attack.”

At this, Dazai’s already gloomy expression darkened further: “He came after you, Kae.”

“Me?” Kae raised an eyebrow in disbelief. “I’ve never even seen him before.”

Dazai kicked the man on the ground with full force, showing no mercy. A hint of madness flickered across the black-haired youth’s face.

“A sneaky little maggot—of course he wouldn’t want to be noticed by his victim.”

“He’s useless, knows little, just sent because his ability is handy—as a trap to catch you.”

“You left Yokohama for a while, and like flies, they swarmed right after you.” Dazai stuck out his tongue, clearly disgusted. “Absolutely revolting.”

The city of Yokohama, Japan’s largest port and capital of Kanagawa Prefecture, was ceded to Britain as a concession after the recent world war Japan lost.

This unique political status meant Yokohama was not fully governed by the Japanese government, making it a very special place. Over 80% of Japan’s ability users lived there—both protected and restrained.

It was a paradise for ability users, but also their hell. Those without power or influence often avoided Yokohama.

For ability users, it was simply “too dangerous.”

Though the man possessed powers, his organization seemed either too timid or unwilling to attract attention. They dared not act recklessly in Yokohama, waiting instead for Kae to leave so they could make their move.

Like at this rock music festival, held far from Yokohama, in Niigata prefecture—a perfect time and place for those with ill intentions.

So they brazenly attacked Kae.

But who could have predicted that the famed “Double Black” of the inner world would both be here? Such luck was rarer than winning the lottery.

“Apparently, he ‘saw’ something in your singing, so he arbitrarily assigned you an identity and expectations, and tried to take you away,” Dazai said coldly. “Ridiculous.”

“Huh? Isn’t that just scum?” Chuya was incredulous at the situation but equally enraged.

His knuckles cracked as he clenched his fists, eyes flicking over the man as if ready to smash him to pieces.

After all, to Chuya, Kae was now firmly “the junior of the public relations officer.”

So it was only natural for him to look after the junior on behalf of the officer.

A hand suddenly rested on Chuya’s shoulder.

“Calm down, Chuya,” Dazai said. “This guy still has his uses.”

Dazai was fascinated by the nearly unknown organization behind the man that commanded ability users.

“Take him back to Yokohama,” he ordered.

Chuya instinctively agreed but then hesitated, sensing something amiss. “If I take him back, what about you?”

“Hm?” Dazai looked perfectly natural. “I’ll stay here and enjoy the music festival.”

Chuya: “...Go to hell, Dazai!”

The tension that had been building between them now flowed freely again as they bickered. Kae took down the black cube she was to bring along and examined it closely, though it revealed nothing.

“Dazai,” she called out. The two youths, who had been pulling at each other’s hair, stopped and looked her way.

Holding up the black cube for both to see, she asked, “What should I do with this?”

“Oh right, that is indeed a big problem...” Dazai mused.

Since touching it would nullify Kae’s ability and restore the man’s power, no matter how curious Dazai was, he could only watch helplessly.

He stared at the physical manifestation of the ability in Kae’s hand for a moment, then grinned mischievously.

“By the way, Kae,” the black-haired youth’s voice was sticky and sly, “if you’re not planning to return it...”

“How about we build a collection room to gather these abilities together?”

Chuya turned his head in horror at Dazai’s suggestion, suddenly realizing something.

“Hey! Dazai!”

Do you even know what you’re saying?

That’s exactly what Ryuhiko Seizawa did!