The One Who Leads the Fall
Atsushi stood a meter from the roof’s edge, gripping the cold railing as wind whipped at his hair. The city lights glowed far below like a sea of stars. He sensed something was off—Dazai’s quiet approach behind him felt too calm.
Dazai stepped forward with that trademark, almost theatrical ease, lips curved in a gentle, ironic smile.
“Time to say goodbye,” he murmured, voice soft but charged with challenge. In that instant, Atsushi’s heart seized: he recognized the familiar spark of provocation.
Before anyone could react, Dazai suddenly threw himself off the roof, hurling his body backward into the void.
“Dazai!” Atsushi shouted—but in a fraction of a second he leapt after him, transforming into the White Tiger.
● Atsushi catches Dazai
Atsushi sprang: in his Beast form he lunged and grabbed Dazai’s hand at the brink of the fall. His claws scratched concrete, his body pulsed with the power of transformation. In his mind: “Careful, Beast… don’t hurt him!”
● Kunikida grabs Atsushi
Before Atsushi could feel his strength weakening, Kunikida vaulted out from behind, seizing Atsushi by the ankle.
– “Atsushi, keep him steady!” he barked, calculating angle and force in an instant. His movement was precise: he gripped Atsushi’s ankle, relieving strain on the extended paw. Thanks to that, Dazai remained suspended.
● Akutagawa grabs Kunikida
Akutagawa emerged from the shadows. His step was unhurried, his face unreadable. In response to Kunikida’s swift move, he bounded and grabbed him by the ankle:
– “Don’t expect gratitude,” he said coolly, knowing this test would reveal what those from the Agency were really made of.
● Chūya grabs Akutagawa
With the last member—Chūya—the situation became absurdly “chain-like”: Chūya, seeing this line of dangling figures, fixed his gaze first on Dazai, then on Akutagawa. He moved explosively and, in an acrobatic leap, caught Akutagawa by the ankle, planting his back to the roof’s edge.
– “Osamu, what are you up to now?!” he roared, though deep down he was moved: despite irritation, he wouldn’t let this stunt end in tragedy.
Now Chūya stood on a stable patch of roof, holding Akutagawa; below him hung the chain: Akutagawa held Kunikida, Kunikida held Atsushi, and Atsushi held Dazai.
Each fought against the strain: muscles burned, hearts pounded wildly, and the whole composition hovered over the abyss in an exaggerated drama. Yet physically—by holding one another leg to leg—they had a moment of safety, as long as Chūya could hold firm.
A hush followed, broken only by the wind’s roar. Chūya gazed down at the city and up at his comrades. In that moment, Fyodor emerged from the darkness like a silent shadow. His expression was impassive, and he carried yet another provocation in his hand.
● Fyodor strikes Chūya
Without a word, he struck Chūya in the back—precise and calculated, knowing the rescue chain would collapse.
– “Now let’s see how far they fall,” he said calmly.
Chūya struggled to maintain balance while holding Akutagawa, but the force of the blow and the surprise caused him to lose footing: the entire column of figures plummeted downward.
In the last moment, as they fell, the air trembled. Atsushi again felt the flash of transformation mixed with chaotic senses, as Lucy suddenly conjured portal doors before them. Landing one after another in a comically dramatic tangle, they tumbled through the doors into a new world.
Atsushi groaned, pinned under the weight of three others, his claws retracting as his Beast form faded. Dazai, somehow still smug despite the insanity, blinked up from the bottom of the pile.
Above them loomed the towering walls and faded wallpaper of Anne’s Room — Lucy’s realm. The place was quiet, bathed in faint candlelight, with a single wooden chair in the middle and Lucy herself standing beside it. Her crimson eyes studied the heap of intruders with cool detachment, arms crossed, the faintest frown tugging at her lips.
Suddenly Kunikida lunged.
He tore himself free from the pile with unexpected force and shoved Dazai down by the collar, slamming him against the wooden floor.
“Have you completely lost your mind?!” he roared, voice cracked with raw fury. “You think this is a game, Dazai?! Throwing yourself off a rooftop?! You could’ve gotten them all killed!”
Dazai, pinned, didn’t resist. He tilted his head with a faint, almost amused smirk, voice barely above a whisper:
“But they didn’t die. And you’re all still here. That means it worked, didn’t it?”
Kunikida’s fist trembled as it hovered midair. The veins in his neck bulged.
“You always do this. You always think only you see the big picture. Always dragging others into your twisted calculations—!”
His voice cracked again, this time on the edge of something deeper. Not just rage. dissapointment
But before the blow could fall—
Atsushi grabbed Kunikida’s arm.
Akutagawa seized the back of his jacket.
“Enough, Kunikida-san!” Atsushi shouted, panicked, his grip shaking.
“He’s not worth it,” Akutagawa growled flatly, tugging him back. “Let the fool rot in his own brilliance.”
Kunikida resisted for a second longer, teeth clenched… then let go with a sharp breath, pushing himself off Dazai like someone brushing off dirt. He turned his back and walked a few paces away, fingers twitching, breath heavy, eyes burning behind his glasses.
Chūya remained where he was, one hand in his coat pocket, watching the entire scene unfold with a crooked smirk.
“Same old Dazai,” he muttered under his breath. “Push everyone off the cliff, then act surprised when they want to throw you off in return.”
He looked away, eyes sweeping the surreal walls of Anne’s Room.
“Damn idiot.”
Lucy hadn’t moved. Her gaze slid from Kunikida’s trembling shoulders, to Atsushi’s worried expression, then to Dazai — who now sat up with a sigh, brushing imaginary dust from his coat.
“You're all loud,” she said quietly.
There was something unreadable in her voice — not annoyance, not disdain. More like the tone of someone who’d seen too many desperate people flailing in too many collapsing rooms.
“You want to fight again?” she asked simply. “Because if you do… I can close the doors.”
The threat wasn’t in her words. It was in her stillness.
Dazai chuckled softly, rubbing the back of his head.
“Sorry, Lucy-chan. Just a little family drama.”
Lucy said nothing. But the chair in the center of the room creaked — though no one had touched it.
The group went quiet. The room seemed to breathe.
Why did Dazai really jump?
