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[sixx-writes]

                               Room 208|Drifting III

Kurotsuchi Mayuri x Reader

Word Count: 3,350

cw: slow burn, dark content, future nsfw, modern au, surgeon!Mayuri, thief!reader, doctor kink, character death, suicide mention

AO3 Version | Masterlist

Summary: You and your partner decide to steal from a former surgeon who may not be all that he appears.

Pt. 1 | 2 | 3 | 4

Shiki's voice is background noise to you as your eyes drift off over his shoulder not bothering to make the effort of pretending to listen. You still felt the chill of steel pressing against your bare spine and the light caress of Mayuri's scalpel tracing over your skin. His 'operating room' was inside a delivery truck you'd passed a hundred times parked in the alley between the apartment building and a vacant space for rent.

Mayuri had promised if you tried to tell the police or anyone else what had happened he would make certain that you went down as well. Whether he meant prison or in several chunks on black market ebay you had no idea. You also harbored no doubts that he could and would keep that promise so you had no choice but to go on living in 207 like nothing had happened giving fake reports to Shiki on your progress with the surgeon.

A loud bang startled you from your thoughts and your attention snapped back to Shiki's annoyed expression. He had slammed his fist on the table like a caveman and it took everything in you not to throw your entire glass of soda in his face just to relieve some stress.

"What the fuck is wrong with ya? Ya look like your dog just fuckin' exploded or somethin'. Don't tell me. Did the doctor touch your special area?"

"Fuck you," you sneered with real anger, "why don't you just fucking grow up already."

You stood leaving your uneaten food behind and chair toppled in the middle of the floor while Shiki stared after you in mild confusion.

You hated this place, you hated Mayuri, and above all you hated yourself and what you'd become.

You'd fallen into depression after your father was shot. Murdered while dealing with a domestic dispute ending six years of his career serving as a policeman. After that you had spiraled starting with dropping out of school and concluding with you in juvenile detention.

In your absence your mother's mental state had continued to deteriorate unable to handle the loss of her husband and the day after your sixteenth birthday she overdosed on painkillers. The news had left you completely broken, you had begged and screamed to see her, knocking out the officer's tooth when he had tried to hold you back. You didn't remember much more after that as you'd needed to be sedated for the next several days until your hysteria settled.

The following months you were inconsolable and eventually you managed to escape. It was around that time that you met Shiki, only eighteen and already a master at pick pocketing and petty theft, he'd taught you the ways of the streets. After the first decent score the two of you had rented your first apartment and you had never known exhilaration like that could exist. Finally something was going right for you again.

It went on like that for a while, careful not to draw too much attention before moving on, and avoiding any yaluza owned businesses. Now at 26 years old, Shiki had approached you with a low risk high reward job involving a surgeon turned recluse that would set both of you straight for good. The two of you had planned to split the money and head off your separate ways once 'the big one' came along. An exit strategy into a normal life when the time was right.

Or that was how it was meant to go.

For some time now you'd had the growing suspicion that Shiki had no intention of giving up the lifestyle as he sunk deeper into it rather than trying to crawl his way out. He'd taken more of an interest in the yakuza and spoke as if he truly admired them instead of the loathing and distrust that you would have expected. Maybe it was because it was practically all Shiki knew, he was half your age when he was abandoned by his mother; a whore that he didn't remember the name of. His own name was given by the man that had found him in a cemetery asleep on one of the graves; 'Shiki', shortened from the word 'funeral', Soushiki.

It wasn't something that Shiki liked to talk about aside from how the man was a drunk and beat him sometimes until it became too much and he ran away. From the sound of it you couldn't help wondering if something worse hadn't transpired while Shiki was living with the man but it wasn't your place to force him into speaking on it. He had always done the same for you respecting your boundaries and not asking about your past.

Shiki may come off as an annoying dickhead, and most of the time he was, but he understood what lines shouldn't be crossed when it came down to it.

Instead of going home you'd wandered in a random direction with no particular goal in mind. It was something that you used to do more often before meeting Shiki. Anything to avoid going back to your room and him just yet. The sky was turning grey overhead by the time you reached an area of the city you weren't familiar with. Sex shops and other shady businesses infested the area, no doubt yakuza owned, and you tried to avoid eye contact with anyone that seemed dangerous. Or anyone at all really.

As you'd recently learned literally anyone could be a psychopath appearances be damned; including rich surgeons that secretly liked to collect body parts in jars.

Your stomach growled pathetically and you're reminded that you hadn't finished your meal back at the restaurant so you try to search for the least seedy food joint. You settle on a ramen shop with a hefty woman working the counter ordering yourself a bowl and savoring the rich broth chasing your hunger away along with a glass of shochu to wash it down.

It's getting late and you know your time delaying the inevitable is coming to an end. Begrudgingly, you pay for your food and leave the ramen shop behind just as the first rain drops fall on your head.

You considered several times to just go to your other apartment for one night to clear your mind but that meant seeing Shiki. It was unfortunate that you were petulant enough to choose going into a building where someone had tried to kill you to avoid an awkward situation. You sprinted across the hallway at the sound of the elevator doors dinging, key already in hand, not risking so much as a glance at 208.

Once inside you pulled off your jacket and shirt; it had rained almost the entire way back soaking you to the skin. You were slipping off your second shoe about to go for for your waistband when your focus shifted to the living room.

Mayuri was seated across from you, legs wide apart, one arm draped along the back of the sofa in the most casual way imaginable as if he hadn't broken in while you were out. It was the first time you'd seen him without a robe or some form of house clothes. Instead he was decked out in formal wear; a black dress shirt with the top buttons undone revealing a V of his slender chest and the sleeves rolled back to the elbow. It had came un-tucked from the tight pants that matched and you guessed he had gotten in a while ago growing more and more agitated when you didn't come home contributing to his disheveled appearance.

"Where were you?"

You didn't miss the accusatory tone behind the question.

"Around," you answered intentionally vague. You didn't want to give the satisfaction of letting him see how freaked out you were. The towel from when you'd washed your hair that morning still hung on the back of the second sofa where you'd tossed it, opposite of where Mayuri sat, and you grabbed it drying off your body not bothering to cover yourself. He'd already seen everything anyway. What did you care.

"Have you been drinking?"

"No."

 Yes.

The exchange was reminiscent of a disappointed parent whose daughter had stayed out too late. Just on the other side of almost normal. You didn't know why you bothered lying to him about what you'd been doing as if you gave a shit what he thought. All you wanted was a shower to warm yourself and to take a handful of pills to make you pass out for the next ten hours.

That was why you held onto the towel, dragging off your pants and stripping down to your bra and panties, wandering past Mayuri whose eyes narrowed but to your relief didn't try to stop you.

You locked the bathroom door, taking deep cleansing breaths trying to calm yourself, flicking on the light and going to unhook your bra when you noticed the man in your shower. You yelled in surprise pressing yourself back into the door fumbling for the handle. The man was clearly yakuza, his tattoos visible at the edges of his shirt, and had been dead for a little while; his throat slit and one of his eyes aimed off to the side in an odd direction.

Your fingers wrapped around the handle and you fell outside backwards stumbling right into Mayuri. The surgeon caught your wrists before you could do anything else while you kicked and yelled trying to break free. He'd had enough when you managed to land a lucky elbow into his stomach with all your thrashing and he snarled shoving you towards the couch.

You banged your knee painfully before landing on your side hyperventilating under Mayuri's annoyed glare.

"What.. what.. why..?" you were babbling senselessly. This was the first time you'd seen a dead body.

"Tch. That man was here for me. It was fortunate that he went into the wrong apartment. Nine years later and the small fry are still incompetent as ever."

"H-How did..?"

 How did you know he was here?

That was what you wanted to say but your mind was racing too fast for your mouth to keep up.

"I was waiting for you to return; there are matters that I needed to discuss with you. I saw that the door was open and let myself in. It seems it was the right decision wouldn't you agree?"

 Fuck.

Something else occurred to you that made your blood run cold, "Shiki. Oh, fuck."

Your phone was by the door and you scrambled for it, pulling it from your bag with trembling fingers, needing three tries to get it unlocked. You had new texts from him that he'd sent right after you'd stormed off out of the diner.

 S: U good?

 S: Sorry abt being a dick before ik alot of shit is bothering you I was just tryna cheer u up :(

A few hours passed before he texted again.

 S: Listen I'm gonna be late getting in today cause that yakuza guy just called and said he wanted to meet at that construction site something to do with the surgeon idk it could help us out

 S: If u need to get it off your chest we can talk when I get home if ur still up and maybe watch a movie or smth

 S: Anyway ttyls bitch <3

You stared and stared at the text until your gaze went through the screen unseeing and you gripped the plastic so tightly it creaked in your hand.

"What is it?"

Mayuri's voice came from somewhere behind you, close but barely audible over the roaring in your ears, and it snapped you into action. You pulled your wet clothes back on throwing your phone back into your bag and slinging it over your shoulder. Maybe it was nothing but the familiar feeling in your gut was telling you otherwise.

The surgeon didn't try to stop you when you ran back out of the apartment not waiting for the elevator and taking the stairs two at a time until you were back outside. It was still raining as you sprinted for the cranes in the distance marking the construction site Shiki had mentioned. Their tall black skeletons rose taller the closer you got and you were completely out of breath by the time you reached the chain link surrounding the area.

You tossed your bag over first following not far behind as you climbed the fence dropping into the mud with a silent plap drowned out by the rain. You passed two black sedans as you moved deeper straining your eyes for any sign of Shiki and your blood turned to ice as the scene came into view. In the clearing amidst the buildings lit by the security lights you saw your partner. He had been beaten quite horribly already; bleeding from a cut over his eye and lower lip washed pink as the water ran in rivulets over his skin.

He was clearly exhausted sagged in the mud while three yakuza surrounded him from all sides positioned to prevent his escape. You didn't think he would even be able to walk right now let alone have any real chance of getting away.

The man in front of Shiki landed a viscous kick to his face after asking him something you couldn't make out, not happy with whatever he'd said.

You were paralyzed as the man landed a few more viscous kicks into Shiki's gut until he was coughing a mixture of bile and blood. The rain had almost stopped and you could make out bits and pieces of what was being said.

"...no one.." Shiki said earning him another kick, this time to his face. His nose was mangled beyond recognition from the abuse, his once handsome face turned ugly by brutality.

"..anyone else know..?" the yakuza was speaking again.

The tall muscular gangster easily dragged Shiki up by the hair until he was at eye level, too weak to grasp at the arm that held him, Shiki's face contorted in agony. You don't notice where the gun comes from when the yakuza pulls it out from somewhere inside his suit. All you see is the suppressor pressing into the hollow of Shiki's throat as the hammer is dragged back and the safety released.

 You should be doing something, right?

Shiki's body is like a rag doll; his body is flopping so unnaturally from side to side with the way the man is shaking him like he has no bones left. You realize it's because his legs are broken.

"..don't think..lying.." the farthest yakuza says something and the man holding Shiki agrees.

Shiki coughs and your heart breaks a little more at the wet rattling sounds behind it.

You can't feel the tears mixing with the rainwater on your cheeks.

Shiki manages to spit in the face of the bastard and it only causes him to grin entirely unphased by Shiki's defiance. He drops him into a crumpled heap before rolling him over with his foot and pointing the gun at his face. Seeing someone get shot is nothing like how it is in the movies as it turned out.

The yakuza started to squeeze the trigger and you felt your mouth open in a scream that was muffled almost immediately by someone's hand clamping down across the lower half of your face. Someone was dragging you away from the horrific scene. Distantly, you knew you were going into shock; this wasn't the first time after all. You remembered this feeling every time you thought about your mother.

 But you had to do something right?

 Right?

The sound of the gunshot going off was a soft thwack; nothing like the overused sound effect. There was no explosion of blood to dramatize what was happening, Shiki's body convulsed once, twice, then lay still as the bullets seemed to disappear into nothing. No sign that the gun had even been what had killed him at all. Not all the movies and internet access in the world could have prepared you for the real thing.

Shiki was dead. Your friend and partner was reduced to nothing more than cooling meat in the rain, his glazed eyes seeing nothing as his head flopped to the side so sickeningly limp. Towards you. Accusing you for just watching it happen.

  I WANT MY MOMMY. YOU'RE LYING.

 SHE WOULDN'T LEAVE ME ALONE.

 MOMMY. MOMMY. MOMMY. MOMMY.

  Ah, yes.

 It was like that time wasn't it?

So why was it that you were dragged away while someone you cared about slipped through your fingers again? It wasn't right to leave his body behind like that. You wondered if the yakuza would dispose of him so that he was never found or leave him for the construction workers in the morning.

You couldn't even cry as shock fully enveloped you like a familiar heavy blanket and you welcomed it not ready to cope with anything yet.

Time seemed to dilate around you (or maybe you blacked out - you weren't really sure) and you became vaguely aware of riding in a vehicle. Collapsed against the passenger side door as the world outside was reduced to glowing trails of light reflected in the raindrops running along the glass. The only thing you could see was Shiki's dead eyes staring back at you from the darkness.

You were going to be sick, you realized, and only just managed to get the door open enough for you to empty your stomach contents along the highway. It left you lightheaded with a foul taste in your mouth and you patted yourself down trying to find a lighter. There was a crumpled blunt in your pocket, the pocket of the jacket that Shiki had gotten you for your birthday last year, and you barely got it between your lips with your hands shaking so badly.

As soon as it was lit Mayuri reached across and crushed it into the ash tray wordlessly.

"What the fuck?" you sounded hoarse.

It was the first thing either of you had said since he'd practically kidnapped you an hour ago. Maybe two. Who was counting at this point.

"Keep your filthy habits out of my truck."

"My mistake I'll keep my smoking to a minimum in the murder truck. Just out of curiosity how many people have you killed?"

"Twenty-seven," Mayuri said without hesitation or remorse.

The anger you'd intended to vent went out of you like a deflated balloon at such a high number.

"Did you feel better after you.. after dealing with Pernida?"

 What were you asking all of a sudden?

This was not the way you'd intended for the conversation to go at all.

"It's only natural for someone like you to equate what I did to something as trite as revenge," he drawled condescendingly, "It was never just about Nemu; it was about sending a message. No matter how deep the rot of Reio's influence goes he isn't untouchable. He has had to live with the shadow hanging over him for nine years as a constant reminder of what if."

You were reminded of Mayuri's angry outburst while you were on his operating table just for speaking his daughter's name yet he spoke as if what he had done wasn't entirely personal. You couldn't tell if he was delusional or in denial that he had stooped to the yakuza's level for his own pleasure to take revenge.

"If it was about sending a message then why do you have a fucking arm in your apartment?"

The surgeon grinned at that sending a chill down your spine, "Every year on the anniversary of Nemu's death I send a piece of Pernida to Reio's office. That arm is all that remains."

You didn't know what the appropriate response was to that without offending him so you stayed silent deciding that the windshield wipers were more interesting than finding out more about Kurotsuchi Mayuri. You'd had enough for one night and needed to dissociate from reality for just a little while.