Not a Weapon?

The Port Mafia corridors were always cold at night. Rei Tsukihara moved through them without a sound, her shadow stretching unnaturally across the walls like it had a mind of its own — because it did.

She hated this place. The blood. The orders. The way her father looked at her — not like a daughter, but like a tool he'd forged himself.

"Fear makes people obedient," he used to say, voice like ice. "And you, Rei... you are fear incarnate."

That was the only praise she ever got.

⸻

Tonight, she was summoned again — not by her father, but by Dazai Osamu. She found him waiting at the edge of the Port's rooftop, coat fluttering, bandaged hands tucked in his pockets. He didn't look like a feared executive. He looked bored.

"You're late," he said without turning around.

"You didn't give a time," she replied.

He glanced at her, expression unreadable as usual. "How's daddy dearest?"

"Still dreaming of turning me into his perfect weapon."

"Mm," Dazai murmured. "And you're still letting him."

Rei flinched — only slightly, but enough. "Don't talk like you care."

"Come on now," he said. "Don't be like that. We've known each other a while now."

Everyone else feared her. Even Chuuya kept his distance to an extent, they have a weird relationship. But Dazai... he looked at her like he saw everything, even the parts she wanted to hide.

"You're not like the others," he said suddenly. "You don't enjoy the blood. You don't crave control. But your ability... You're dangerous. And dangerous things are interesting... until they spiral out of control. Then they're just tragic."

For a long moment, neither of them spoke. The city buzzed below. Rei's shadow hissed softly behind her.

"You're scared of yourself," Dazai said finally. "That's good. It means there's still something human left in you."

⸻

Later, she returned to her father's quarters. He didn't even look at her when she entered.

"How's your training?"

"Fine."

"I picked Dazai for two reasons, one his ability and two...well the fact that he's him. He'll teach you to discard what's left of your weakness."

She said nothing. But something in her chest twisted. Was it weakness to want to be more than a weapon?

That night, her shadows curled around her bed like living serpents — restless, hungry, and whispering in her voice.

The training room Dazai chose wasn't part of the Port Mafia's usual facilities. It was an abandoned warehouse tucked in the shadows of Yokohama's industrial district — isolated, private, and surrounded by enough empty buildings that no one would hear if something went wrong.

Which was good.

Because tonight, something did.

⸻

The shadows obeyed her — mostly. But they were quick to tremble when her emotions spiraled. Across from her, Dazai stood relaxed, hands in his pockets, a smirk tugging at the edge of his mouth.

"You rely too much on defense," he said. "You wait until someone strikes and then react. That works until they're faster than you — or meaner."

Rei narrowed her eyes. "If I go on the offensive and lose control, someone gets hurt."

"That's what I'm here for," Dazai replied, stepping forward. "My ability cancels yours out, remember? I'm the one person in the world you can't hurt." Dazai reminded her of this often when they trained.

He stopped just within range. "So hit me."

She hesitated. Her shadow curled upward behind her like a living blade.

"Come on," Dazai teased. "What's the worst that could happen? I bleed all over my nice shoes?"

She smirked — and struck. The shadow lashed out, aiming for his shoulder — but the moment it made contact, it dissolved harmlessly against his arm. Nullified.

"Good," he said. "Again. Go faster."

Over and over, she attacked — shaping spears, whips, jagged slashes. He wove between them, letting some strike and vanish, stepping close, pushing her limits.

"You've got instincts. But you're scared of yourself. You'll never win like that."

"Maybe I don't want to win if it means hurting people," she snapped.

He paused, eyes serious now. "You're already in the game, kid. You might as well learn how to survive it."

She stumbled, sweat dripping into her eyes.

"Again!"

Rei clenched her fists, focused — her shadow lashed out, slicing through the air toward Dazai's side. He dodged with frustrating ease, catching her off balance.

"You hesitate. You're too careful," he said, voice sharp but not cruel. "You're treating this like a guessing game. It's not. You command your ability, or it controls you."

He didn't go easy on her — never did — but he never enjoyed it either. There were no insults, no cold lectures, no "Subject Zero" slipping from his tongue. Just Dazai, keeping her sharp, keeping her alive.

⸻

The elevator ride to her father's office was silent, save for the low hum of old machinery and the soft hiss of her own breathing. She still felt cold. Even hours after training ended, after Dazai's touch pulled her back from the edge, the memory of the shadows' hunger clung to her skin.

She hadn't meant to lose control.

But someone had reported it.

The door to her father's office was already open. That was never a good sign.

⸻

He sat behind his desk like a statue carved from old ice — every movement precise, economical. His eyes didn't rise from the folder in his hands as she stepped inside.

"You were created for one purpose," he said. "Your ability is fear. Your existence is fear. Don't confuse that with being a person."

"I didn't ask to be born this way," she muttered.

"But you were born this way. That's what matters." He stood and walked around the desk, slowly, like a general circling a failed soldier.

"Dazai's weakness is sentiment. He sees ghosts in broken things. He sees something salvageable in you."

He stopped inches from her. "I see reality."

His hand reached out and gripped her chin, forcing her to meet his gaze. "You are not a daughter. You are not a girl. You are the embodiment of what people fear in the dark. That is your value. And if you forget that again... I will remind you."

He let her go like he was releasing a weapon back into its sheath. Rei didn't respond. She couldn't. Her hands trembled at her sides, fists clenched to keep her shadow from reacting.

He turned his back to her.

"Dazai is not your salvation. He's a tool like the rest of us. If you want to survive, stop clinging to this idea that you can be more than what you are."

"And what am I?" she whispered.

He didn't even look over his shoulder.

"A weapon. Beautiful. Controlled. Necessary."

Rei walked out with her spine straight and her face blank. But the moment the door shut behind her, the hallway lights flickered. Her shadow slithered under the cracks in the walls, twitching like a snake in a cage.

She didn't go back to her room.

She went to the rooftop.

She didn't cry.

But she wanted to.