Chapter Text
Dazai was used to receiving missions, such is to be expected being an executive in the Port Mafia. Regrettably enough though, Dazai just so happens to hate carrying through with said missions, especially the needlessly long and drawn out ones.
So, of course he receives a letter from Mori detailing yet another mission. And considering the sickly sweet accompanying note urging him to actually read the details, he was going to hate it. Distantly he figured he might as well throw himself off a bridge. The thought was almost intoxicating, but he also figured Mori would never let go of his beloved pet, so sighing, he ripped the letter open. Two things caught his eye, the contents that would assumedly be detailing his mission, and yet another note jotted on the inside of the envelope itself, reading;
“Dazai! Before you throw this into the trash bin and add in a match be sure to read its contents! And if you try to jump off of something just know you'll still be sent on this mission, just a bit worse for wear! It really is in your best interest to be uninjured, though it doesn't really matter to me. I won't be the one needing to explain away your injuries!”
The letters were dotted with hearts which made him want to gag, and the thought that he had grown predictable enough for the doctor to guess his desired method of suicide made him grimace. Luckily, or rather unluckily, he had the perfect thing to put his mind off of Mori’s general shittiness.
Unfolding the papers that had been sent was surprising, to say the least. For one, every other time Dazai had been sent on a mission Mori had called him into his office. Being sent the details was off putting, and Dazai had an unwelcome feeling that had Mori told him in person he would have actually killed himself right then and there. That feeling only grew stronger as he scanned the papers. Most mission details were more formal, almost essay format, paragraph after paragraph about relevant history, important context, and exact details on what was to happen. No room was ever left for interpretation on missions, that is until this one.
Instead of the lengthy paragraphs there were pictures, busts of people Dazai had never really seen in his life. At first he assumed ( hoped ) these were just low level grunts who defected from the mafia, and were to be eliminated accordingly. Then his eye caught on spandex. Brightly coloured, god awful spandex. No fool within Yokohama would have the gall, let alone stupidity to parade around in spandex. Only outside heroes, pricks who kept attempting to infiltrate the city and push their odd morals did such things. And, reading through the short snippets detailing important information that accompanied each image his suspicions were proven to be true.
The multiple snippets shared a few things, namely a hero name, civilian name, and information about the hero activity the person in the images carried out. Most annoyingly, there was an asterisked “U.A. Staff” or “Associated with U.A.” for every single image. Dazai, it seems, was to be sent to hero school.
He put the papers down and almost laid down in feigned defeat before he smiled and, crouching, re-read the details. It was obvious that he was definitely going to need to go to hero school, but more importantly, there was no mention this was to be a solo mission. Or rather there was no mention it needed to be a solo mission, and Dazai just so happens to have a lovely dog who loves following him around.
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Chuuya Nakahara is not the type to sleep in. Put off some of the more tedious work that comes with being in the Port sure ( at least he would eventually finish it unlike that mackerel bastard ) but he had always been an early riser. A habit from his days in the slums, where being asleep meant you were vulnerable, but he didn’t like to think about that part. Regardless, Chuuya was for once fighting himself to stay asleep. He has this terrible foreboding feeling which only means one thing; Dazai is going to cause him trouble again, and Chuuya would rather follow that prick’s lead and jump in a river before willingly going along with one of his plans.
Chuuya finds his efforts are in vain however, as he hears a loud bang, followed by a certain annoying voice. That prick had not only come to him, but broken his door open.
“Chuuya~” The name is said with a childish drawl, and Chuuya almost feels a vein pop. Hearing Dazai so early in the morning makes him irrationally angry, and his flippant attitude doesn't help. Combined with his efforts to put off meeting the bastard, he was going to come out swinging.
Sweeping his covers away, Chuuya jumps towards Dazai, hand outstretched. He was going to choke the fucker until he shut up. He must have sat up too quickly though, as he feels a pain in his head, and the mackerel merely steps just outside his reach, causing Chuuya to miss, and rather anticlimactically hit the floor.
“Such a violent dog, your owner greets you and your first response is to lunge at me! I guess the saying really is true, you can’t teach an old dog new tricks. Being on your own for so long has taught you the wrong things~” The words come out lacking venom, but Chuuya knows Dazai too well to think he's just genuinely making a light-hearted joke.
Picking himself off the ground, and rubbing his head, Chuuya finds it in himself to respond.
“For the last time, I am not a dog, let alone your dog, bastard.”
He only receives papers to the face in response, and just before tearing them into pieces for being another object Dazai used in his endless crusade to make his life harder, he notices the pages are not blank. Hesitantly he grabs the papers, and a slight shiver goes down his spine as he notices the smug smirk painted on Dazais face.
“What the fuck is this nonsense, you shitty bastard.” Is the only thing to leave his mouth as his eyes scan over everything.
Throwing the pages back to Dazai he continues. “Why the hell are you handing me some shit about the lives of those pricks who delude themselves into believing they’re truly helping anyone? I don’t care enough to join in on whatever perverted game you’re playing.”
Dazai stops smiling, and opens his mouth, dramatically clenching his teeth and bringing a hand over his heart, and another to his head.
“Agh! My dog is barking again, your words wound me so!” He moves his arms to embrace himself, continuing his dramatic performance. “Do I really look like the type to bother some people sharing a collective delusion for fun?!?”
He only earns a glare in response, pushing him to elaborate.
“And he’s impatient… Anyways, since you didn’t figure it out yourself I suppose I might as well enlighten you.” The papers are picked up and lazily held to face Chuuya. “The slimy doctor is sending me, that is to say us, on a lovely infiltration mission! We’re going to join some hero hopefuls in highschool!”
The information is shared so casually that Chuuya almost tunes it out. He takes a few seconds to process, his eyes only narrowing as time goes on. Then he snatches the papers back from Dazai and tightly grips the pages as he truly reads them over.
“Shit…” One of his hands finds its way to his hair as he confirms Dazais words for himself. “We’re really being sent to… U.A? For what, have those bastards finally overstepped and fucked with Yokohama?”
Dazai snatches the papers back and throws them aside, earning an annoyed expression from Chuuya and a mumbled “I was reading that you prick.”
“So.” Dazai starts, physically pushing Chuuya aside. “Mori doesn't really care about how we end up in U.A. and in character has not provided any information about what exactly we are supposed to do.” He stops for a moment as Chuuya pushes him back, but they both stop as he settles to sit beside the other. “You are right about the overstepping part though, heroes have been patrolling and crossing our borders increasingly often, and just a few days ago they took an ability user into custody. I doubt Mori cares about some random, but Yokohama does, so he needs to take action.”
Chuuya brings a hand to his face and slowly drags it down to show his exasperation. “And how exactly does this involve us? Surely the boss has someone else to send.”
Dazai says nothing, but falls back with his limbs outstretched. “No clue, well not really, I do have a guess.” He chirps the words out, and a silence fills the room.
He gets punched lightly and starts back up. “Okay, wow, don’t be a brute chibi.” That only earns him another punch but he continues “Most of our issues with heroes are surrounding their distrust of ability users, who take refuge in Yokohama. And since we have nothing physical stopping them from entering the city, they’ve been trying to incarcerate our population of ability users to supposedly save us. Mori probably wants us to dismantle the sentiments surrounding ability users, namely the fact that we’re inherently inhuman.”
An uncomfortable silence follows the last part, before it’s brushed off in favour of more information.
“So we act as sacrificial goats and pretend to be hero hopefuls so we can interact with some brats and make friends, then reveal we have abilities?” An air of scepticism and distrust is carried in his voice, which makes Dazai smile widely, and sit back up.
“We aren't exactly going to be hero hopefuls…”