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bittiebunnie9232 · 7 months ago

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Merry Christmas @evacrazyfandomlover !!

TW: Mental illness, mentions of Dazai-typical suicide, self harm, guns (not used, mentioned)

@bungostraydogs-secret-santa

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Winter was always an awful time of year, and Christmas was the worst of it. Never once did he understand the “holiday cheer” everyone always droned on about. Everything was done up in pretty lights and covered in snow but… it wasn’t right. The whole holiday felt so artificial, so utterly pointless. As lackluster as the metal of his shipping container, the whole concept of Christmas seemed like a distant shiny dream- like suicide. So far beyond his grasp, but right there, brushing the edges of his finger tips but never within reach. It was like life taunted him with the things he could have, what could make him want to live, but dangled them just outside of his reach to lead him by the nose into misery.

Melancholy came around this time of year, everyone knew it. Seasonal depression (or in Dazai’s case, just depression) didn’t go away because of the twinkling colored lights, and warm drinks. The cakes were always better this time of year, the apples were too. Yet he couldn’t stand to stomach such menial things, the only time Osamu ever really ate was when Odasaku forced him to- and even then it wasn’t much. It was like his body just rejected winter, it rejected care and loving and he was stuck with the cold of the season. The warmth of the holidays was a fleeting dream that haunted him as much as this stupid shipping container he called a home.

The whole thing was another reminder that he wasn’t human- just a crude mimicry of something he was born as. Nothing could be more of a slap in the face as being faced with his own inhumanity every year when people were the most outwardly cheerful. How could something actually inhuman be more human than him, and at the same time enjoy the warmth and light of the season where he could barely hope for a draft to not enter his shipping container. Osamu would rather be at work than in this damned drafty lump of scrap metal, freezing and shivering in what little heat his blanket provided, but he couldn’t. Mori gave everyone the holidays off, as a gift for the year- it was more like a facade of an excuse so he could spoil Elise with no one around for the next three days, the greedy bastard.

Walking about the warm stores sounded good, until he had to take into account having to act all cheerful like everyone else so no one would approach him. All the people and their happiness was like a poison, it made him want to die more than sitting here in the cold with nothing but a lamp to light up the space a little. Maybe he could spend the next several days sleeping away the time off he had, at least he wouldn’t feel so cold then.

Laying down, curling up and keeping the blanket over him, Dazai closed his eyes and tried to will sleep to overtake him. Nothing would be better than simply being unconscious right now. Sleep wouldn’t come either, memories taunted him instead. Memories of his early childhood, before the mafia, always flooded him. Flashing images of people he’d much rather forget completely, times in his childhood where he was certain that he was nothing more than an after thought. His mother, and how coldly she looked at him, she had no love for him and it was obvious. Father wasn’t any better, he may as well have left them behind, even if he was around he was like a ghost in Osamu’s life. The times he was around weren’t any better, it was easier when he was a living phantom.

Warmth trailed his face, over the ridge of his nose and down his cheeks leaving an icy chill in its place. Curling in on himself tighter, he tried to drown out the pain spiking in his chest. It wasn’t real, it was just the cold. Maybe if he abandoned his impossible quest for heat, there would be enough cold to just disengage entirely. Trying to numb himself inside would help by being numb on the outside too. He could be as weak as to be crying over something as silly as a stupid holiday that was all saccharine smiles, trees and stupid multicolor lights in the darkness of winter. Damn Mori, damn winter, damn holiday… a soft sob left his lips, the palm of his hand scrubbing at his closed eyes. The stinging of tears was too familiar, as much as he swept a blanket of snow over his emotions, somehow the holidays came to stab at his chest with everything he could’ve had.

Why did it hurt so much? He should have been numb to it all after so many years. All the hurt, was usually gone, stuffed away to the back of his mind in ice where it chilled him from the inside out. The ice helped him, it numbed all the emotions, and it made him work better. The colder he was inside, the more demanding and cold he could be on the outside too- it made sense, after all keeping up his demon prodigy persona was difficult. It wasn’t easy to keep up a cold uncaring act unless he truly was cold and uncaring- and sure, he didn’t understand people despite being able to predict them, he didn’t understand emotions or anything beyond how to make someone feel them, but it worked. Results were all that mattered, and the one place he wanted results was the place Dazai always failed the most. Suicide.

When the blanket of ice didn’t help, the melting of his frozen inside would always be a dreadful thing, the heat helped. As much as he tried to feel the cold nothingness inside of him, the void of a snowy landscape that contained his emotions prickling at his skin with annoyance, sometimes the ice wasn’t strong enough. The pain consumed his mind, until it was pushing pushing pushing at every button it could get its sticky little fingers on. How many times had the ice melted and he cried until he threw up what little was in his stomach? The prickling pain poked needles into his brain until it was too much to bear, sometimes heat washed it all away. The heat that filled his body with warm euphoria every time he did it, every bit of hot red linings his thighs, his arms, the evidence left on his chest. As much as they stung and itched and pulled on his skin later the relief, euphoria, numbing heat always made the prickling stop until the ice helped again.

CLANG

Freezing for a split second, Dazai listened to the sounds outside his little slice of hell. Sometimes the wind would make things bang against each other, and when everything was made of metal and pure silence drifted over the yard of containers any small noise was amplified. So far, he could only he hear his breathing and soft sniffles, only silence awaited him in the dark of the outside world. At least the noise had broken him out of the spiral that his mind let whirl until he crashed. Taking a breath, he tried to force his body to relax. Despite his paranoid mind, there was probably nothing outside, nothing was ever outside. Anyone who knew about him living here avoided him like the plague, and Mori would just call him. Maybe a stray dog was walking around or something.

After a few more moments of silence, he finally tried to close his eyes and let his breathing level out. Nobody was around, so the sinking shameful feeling that came with crying wasn’t as heavy. There was no one to hide the fact he actually had feelings from, what harm could be done from crying in the dead emptiness of his own home? That’s what any rational person would think, but Osamu wasn’t being rational. Instead the disgust he always felt with himself writhed in his chest, a snake made of his flaws that always coiled around him to whisper every sin his ever committed in his ear. Maybe-

CLANG

Something wasn’t right, there was no way in all the silence and cold that was this time of year that something would be banging around outside! Clearly, the wind was messing with him, some dumb kid must have thought it was funny to hang up a stick by a container so it would make a banging sound every time the wind blew. Honestly, what stupid kids decided to even come here?

BANG BANG

That wasn’t the same. Sitting up quickly, Dazai came to the very easy conclusion that this noise- as it repeated again- was someone knocking on his shipping container. Who would venture all the way out to this dump, and dare to knock on his (was it even a door? Entrance? Wall?) door? Hearing a voice just outside of the thin metal sheet grumbling about something- he could have sworn he heard his name- Dazai got up. Abandoning his blanket on the mattress, and scrubbing off his face the best he could- which was to say his eyes were still red rimmed and he looked like shit- he grabbed his gun, and went up to the door.

Swinging open the entrance to a cold chill he had been trying to keep away, Osamu’s hand gripped the pistol a little tighter. What he hadn’t been expecting to see at his door, was a bright head of red hair. The boy had something in his hands, though he was clearly a bit warmer than Dazai, bundled up in a coat and scarf.

“Chuuya?�� His fingers loosened on the gun, clearly there wasn’t a threat. Sure, his dog could be annoying, but Chuuya wasn’t actually going to hurt him. Ignore that- who told the shorty where he lived? He had kept that hidden on purpose, it wasn’t like he wanted visits from his partner at random! The burning of shame flushed through his stomach, churning around in small spirals.

Chuuya looked at Dazai in shock, as if he couldn’t believe he was actually seeing him. When he had been told that the great demon prodigy lived in a shipping container in the middle of nowhere, he was sure the whole thing was a prank. He had come so close to just punching the guy, until Ane-san confirmed herself that Dazai lived here. What kind of dumbass would go and decide to live in a shipping container in the middle of an abandoned area? Looking at the boy he knew something was off immediately- Dazai always looked kind of wrong but this time it was more obvious. He looked too thin, especially without that overcoat, but now that he was down to his usual button up and a very thin pair of sweatpants it was more obvious. Surely this must be a hallucination, there was no way Dazai was shivering- the subtlety of it was astounding, but Chuuya could tell. Had he been crying?

Seeing Chuuya now wasn’t expected- though it wasn’t like Dazai was expecting much of anything right now. How was it that a boy managed to make snow look so beautiful behind him? The bright warm red looking like flames in the low light of the moon bouncing against what little snow dusted the ground. He was beautiful, like an angel in his element, his beauty glowing against the dull world that Osamu hated. Salvation wasn’t what he was looking for, he was far too much of a sinner- the kind of sin that taints your skin and spreads to blacken your heart- but perhaps he could let himself believe if just for a moment that Chuuya was an angel sent to save him.

“Damn Dazai, you look like shit.” Yeah, that thing he thought about angels? Take it all back, the boy was nothing more than an ill mannered pet, there was a flaw in Dazai’s brain if he thought the boy would be angelic. Even if he knew the chill was setting in- he was so cold that his bones hurt- there some odd heating flooding his chest.

“Hah? What are you doing here?” Snarky, as always when it came to the other mafioso, Dazai tried to hold up his facade. The ice came back in a whim, but it was like the first frost over a lake. Thing and creaking ice that could shatter at any moment and threaten to plunge him into the deadly waters beneath. Even Chuuya could see the growing cracks in his mask, it was first time he’d seen it. Usually when Osamu let his mask fall a little, everyone was far away from him, an arms length away.

“I’m here to give you a gift dumbass!” Looking around, Chuuya caught a glance of inside the container. It was desolate and lifeless, metal walls with no pictures on the walls, no space heater, just a futon and a blanket piled on top of the bare mattress. A table and a lamp were the only things besides what little things were thrown haphazardly in the corner. Was this how Dazai lived?

“Chibi got me a gift? What is it?” His usual saccharine cheer fell a little flat, the usual void of his eyes sparking with something that couldn’t be placed. Everything felt wrong, nobody had ever given him a gift before, not even his parents (who forgot the holiday existed). Dazai leaned side to side to try and see what was in Chuuya’s hands, held behind his back to keep the wrapped box hidden.

“Are you gonna invite me in first? Kind of rude to have me standing out in the cold.” Damn it; this whole thing was a source of shame. Damn Mori, damn this shipping container, damn his parents. There was nothing more Dazai wanted than to send Chuuya away- or better yet to have him never arrive. Standing back, he sighed and dropped the handgun on the table. He waved the short mafioso in, trying to be as nonchalant as possible, as if this whole thing wasn’t a great hurt, not that his living situation was truly a secret.

Once Chuuya stepped inside, he glanced around and realized that what he saw from the door was all it was. Dazai really lived inside a sad little shopping container, with a lone futon, a lamp on a table with a laptop on it (but no outlet to plug it into) and a small pile of clothes in the corner. Inside of the metal cage it was slightly warmer than outside, only thanks to the fact the wind wasn’t directly hitting their skin. How did Osamu live this way?

“So… who told you where I live?” The question was awkward, as if he didn’t know exactly how to ask. For a boy who was always so blunt when he wanted things, even if he always did in that stupid mess with mind way. The ominous creak of ice that was about to shatter echoes in the far reaches of Osamu’s mind.

“I asked around.” All the ginger could get through his mind was the fact that Dazai didn’t look good- not that the bean pole ever looked like the picture of health to begin with. The barely-there trembling of his whole body, his pale face with red rimmed eyes, and the streaks of faint lines down his cheeks, it didn’t feel right to see him so… fragile.

There had been times where Chuuya outright sobbed into Dazai’s chest, gripping at his shirt with such desperation that he was sure the cold mafioso would push him away. Even if he hated to share his own emotions, the mystery of a boy could be exceedingly soft at times. He may be uncomfortable with anyone else, but Chuuya pressed all those buttons. He was more than willing to return the favor. How many nights had he relied on a short phone call to the boy he said he hated? How many times had he had a break down in the privacy of his own apartment only to have Dazai there to drag him back up from his own misery?

“Fuck who snitched, you’re coming with me.” A split second decision that left Dazai fumbling. First Chuuya had shown up out of nowhere, and now he was being taken somewhere with no warning. Honestly, he had expected to do what he usually does during the holidays for the next three days- wallow in his own misery and pretend it doesn’t exist while sobbing his heart out into a very well worn pillow.

“Where-“

“Shut up and put on your shoes and coat, idiot. I’m taking you somewhere.” Confused, Dazai put on his shoes- he was already wearing socks to keep his feet at least bearable levels of cold- and threw on his usual black overcoat. A thin thing that Mori had given him years ago, yet he didn’t own a coat. He looked odd and mismatched, wearing his usual attire except with faded blue pajama pants.

Being dragged- mostly by foot mind you, everyone was off for the holidays- through town in the snow with nothing but two thin layers, and pajama pants was embarrassing. Normally Osamu wouldn’t have cared about such trivial things- he was the demon prodigy he would wear whatever he wanted and no one would say anything- but the dam was crumbling. Seeing all the lights in person, all the chattering, couples out at night, while freezing his ass off… it hurt. Ignoring it all, Dazai kept his eyes on Chuuya until they arrived at his apartment- one of the nice ones in a building owned by the Port.

It was warm inside, not the warmth he got from a blanket or stepping into a shop whose door was always letting in cold air, actually warm. The whole place lacked Christmas lights, but that was so much better than having to be taunted by the things inside too. Taking off his overcoat and shoes at the door, he just raised a brow at the shorter boy, who was doing the same thing. The nice interior screamed of Chuuya’s doing, there was no one else he knew who would choose such a nice couch in black, with smooth touches that showed care. Not to mention the slowly growing collections of little knickknacks along the walls, each and everyone reflecting who he was as a person.

“Go shower, it’ll warm you up.”

“… huh?” Usually Dazai was more one for elegant and well thought out responses. Had the snow froze his brain too? Chuuya had to try his hardest not to laugh, though that feeling faded when he saw the dullness in Dazai’s eyes.

“Go shower, I’ll get you a shirt that’s more comfortable too.” Something soft stirred in Chuuya’s chest, seeing how distant his friend was. He knew the boy kept everyone at an arm’s length, but this was like he was retreating inside his mind. Pulling himself together, he turned around and let Dazai figure things out while he prepared something.

Slowly, Dazai’s thoughts began to settle the moment hot water touched his skin. Chuuya was right, it was a great way to warm up- and it also forced him to wash up since he continually stole this shower, or Oda’s. The whole walk here, even starting the shower and stepping into it felt vague in his mind. His thoughts had been pulling him under too hard, freezing the outside world but leaving his brain a torrential mess of barely frozen water. As he began washing himself off, one thought that repeated through his mind, {Chuuya shouldn’t have to see me like this}.

His shower was fairly quick, the sensation of water pouring down his back and over the healing scabs over his arms and thighs was quickly too much. Especially with how they burned in the head of the water, it was clean, it felt clean, but it still tainted him in a way he refused to look at. Carefully he wrapped the bandages around his body, winding them tight enough to be snug. Going to grab his clothes, he noticed that his typical button up had been replaced- when had Chuuya opened the door?- with a loose band-T.

Opening the door, Dazai was greeted with Chuuya’s empty bedroom, with a perfectly made bed and the sound of humming from the next room over. Walking to the living-room in a mild daze, the first thing he saw was Chuuya sitting by the low table in the center of the room, humming some kind of Christmas song. It didn’t sound familiar, but then again Dazai didn’t know any of the songs, just that he hated them. Sitting on the table was two cups, and a bowl, both with steam coming from them.

“What’s this?” Chuuya’s eyes flicked over to Dazai, scrutinizing him until something unknown in the mafioso was satisfied. He had no clue what the ginger could possibly be looking for, but it seemed he had it.

“Crab and cider. Eat and we can chat.” Why would he bother? Chuuya didn’t like crab that much, it was crazy he even had any. The moment he took a bite, his stomach rumbled. How long had it been since he ate? Dazai never caught the little smile the ginger gave when he started eating. Tapping his hand on the table, Chuuya couldn’t help but ask a few questions. “Are you doing okay?”

He could have facepalmed the moment the question left his mouth. Obviously not, but it wasn’t like Dazai would ever say it. There were so many other ways he could have asked, but he wasn’t going to take any of Osamu’s bullshit. Dazai’s furrowed brows made him swallow, he knew where this was going.

“‘M fine, chibi.” Muttering around a mouthful of food, his eyes never met Chuuya’s. After the shower his face was less obviously tear-stained, but the image of a red eyed Osamu tiredly standing in an empty shipping container, shivering in the cold, wouldn’t leave his mind.

“Don’t bullshit me, Osamu. You’re hiding it, but I know you’re upset. You can talk to me, you never tell anyone anything. You’re there for me, let me be here for you now.” The chopsticks froze midway to his mouth, everything about him holding still- even his breath. The creaking sound growing louder inside his mind, the currents beneath the ice rocking and growing stronger.

“I just don’t like the holidays.” His voice was barely above a whisper, the response was just what Chuuya expected. Something vague, with the way that he always evaded real answers, but clearly making him talk about it was only going to make it worse. The two sat quietly while Dazai finished his food, the peace a little strained.

Whenever Dazai got like this, Chuuya knew he wouldn’t say anything more. For someone who knew so many words, it was like they were locked away in his brain. The best thing Chuuya could do was what they always did when he knew Osamu was feeling sensitive- movies and no pressure. Even if words were never said, he always knew what the other boy needed.

A few movies in, and Osamu hadn’t said a word since dinner. They were pressed together, Dazai’s head laid on Chuuya’s shoulder, his eyes tiredly closing for longer and longer. Their silent harmony more comforting than any words or gestures that anyone could come up with, his soul was more at ease with Chuuya. Being near someone who human, who was so adamant he should live and be human too, was a balm of cool moss over his mind. The churning waters of his mind slowed to steady waves, the thin ice healing the cracks.

“Dazai, do you want to open your gift now?” He had forgotten about the thing Chuuya was trying to hand him at the beginning of the night, the offer was tempting. Rubbing his sensitive eyes, he nodded slowly, the call of sleep just starting to fade.

The gift was shoved into his hands, something small and rectangular wrapped in bright red and gold paper. Tearing the paper, Dazai was hesitant to see what was inside, gifts he had gotten were never truly gifts. Yet, seeing the red peak through, his heart started beating rapidly.

The paper was set aside, and he was holding a book he had wanted for so long in his hands. The thin book with a red cover, the Complete Guide to Suicide. How had he known this was the only thing Osamu wanted? The creaking of the ice finally reached a critical point, the only gift he had gotten since he was a child, before then even, and it was so warming. Unlike the melting that he felt earlier, the ice shattered with a rush of water.

“Dazai! What’s wrong?” Chuuya put a hand on his shoulder, and that’s when it finally hit him. Heat was streaking down his cheeks, his breath was wavering and unsteady- small huffs of air left him in a way that shook his shoulders. Crying, or rather sobbing- tears dropped down as he set aside the book, loud sniffles only making the tears worse.

For the first time since they had met, Dazai was crying in front of Chuuya. His hands gripped the soft fabric of an old T-shirt, his tears and sobs bring muffled by the warm chest of a boy shorter than him. Everything he had been numbing and shoving away finally hit him, and all Dazai could do was sob while steady arms held him close.

For the first year, maybe Christmas was worth sticking around for. He’d have to get Chibi a gift too, eventually.

#bsd #bungou stray dogs #bunnie post #secret santa #bsd secret santa

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bittiebunnie9232 · 7 months ago

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Merry Christmas!! @iwantmochisoup !!!

@bungostraydogs-secret-santa

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When it comes to the animal kingdom, many species are very particular when it came to grooming. In dogs and cats, the one cleaning the other is the dominant animal. Knowing they’re the one in control and responsible for another is what drives them, a sense of pride in their leadership. In bunnies, the one being cleaned is the dominant bunny. Being pampered and cared for is a form of preening almost, being treated like a king because they got clean first. By cleaning the forehead and ears, they’re acknowledging the bunny’s dominance.

Hybrids are much like their animal parts in many ways, and the rules to grooming are no exception. Much like bunnies clean themselves frequently, their hybrids shower or bathe more often than the average person. It’s not unheard of for bunny hybrids to pout when they don’t get first dibs on showers, or for them to take too much joy in getting their hair done by someone else. Though, many partners and friends of bunnoids give in to their need for a hierarchy like this, that wasn’t always the case. Some hybrids rejected their needs as well, though most never lasted long.

It wasn’t uncommon for animal hybrids to need help with parts they couldn’t reach, and well… Osamu’s ears were long. They seemed too big for the sixteen year-old, whether they stood tall or laid back against his head. Honestly, for some unknown reason (that he didn’t want to unpack, ever) he hated anyone touching his ears. He wasn’t the kind of bunnoid to just let anyone touch his fur, not only was it hard to keep clean (not that he really did) it was just too sensitive. The leathery skin that made up his bunny ears was thin, one small nick and they would bleed more than honestly he ever thought any wound could. After years in the mafia, he had learned to not let anyone go near them.

His ears were like his bandages, though those were more respected. The personal choice of wearing bandages over most of his body was hardly ever questioned by his subordinates, but far too many stared at his ears. So he was a little self conscious about being a bunny hybrid, sue him! Perhaps the confusion stemmed from his signaling with them. Bunnies, and by extension bunnoids, emote with their ears and a few other behaviors. Though Osamu had suppressed those urges long ago, even when he was alone. Sure, it wasn’t the most healthy thing to do, but he didn’t really have a choice. That was until… Chuuya.

The ginger had come into his life like a whirlwind, changing everything before deciding he’d stay. It didn’t take long for Dazai to show more of himself to Chuuya than anyone had ever gotten before, except one thing… his habits. Even still, his hybrid instincts had been suppressed around the boy, even as almost everything else had been opened and exposed. He owed more to the shorty than he would ever put into words, and that was a weird feeling.

Even now, as he sat in Chuuya’s bathroom, getting ready to steal his friend’s shower. Small behaviors were something he felt himself slipping into around the boy, and he didn’t know how else to hide them. The whole ordeal with just embarrassing on more levels than one. His ears laid back against his head, his bandages wrapped neatly on the counter to be put back on once he was dry. The water would wash away his worries, he just needed time to clean himself and think.

As he showered, there was just something niggling the back of his brain. A hole in his heart, and not just his normal apathetic outlook either- something more that was missing. It was on the tip of his tongue, and yet Dazai couldn’t put words to what that vast emptiness needed to be filled. His hands methodically moved over his ears, combing at the wet fur in rhythmic swiping motions. Not being able to name his own feelings was growing more frustrating by the second. What else could he possibly need, and why was his brain not putting words to something that was meant to be simple?

After far too long- the hot water was running out, Chuuya was going to be pissed- he finally left the shower. Getting dressed should have been easy, drying himself off, getting the basics on (underwear, then bandages) then stealing Chuuya’s shirt and off he went for a sleep over! Except that’s… not what happened.

He tried- really he did! Except after his underwear and leg bandages being in place, he moved on to his chest and arm wraps. Dazai’s ears were pinned back against his head as he tried to concentrate on wrapping everything evenly. What he didn’t notice was his ears getting caught in the length of white fabric as he covered his chest, until a noise was made in the distance and his ear twitched. When his ear moved, so did all the bandages, some pulled too tight, others came loose and fell over the others and the whole thing fell apart. His poor ribs were being squished, and there was too much to pull away from his chest to change it.

Trying to fix the bandages just made everything that much worse! He tried to get his ears out, but that only pulled the wound bandages on his chest to pull tighter. Unwrapping what he had done left a mess of bandage on the floor, and tightening the wrap pulled at his ears. He was in a battle of trying to undo the bandages, making them too tight and tangling them on the floor in a panic to correct his mistake.

Long story short, he was now in the bathroom, with dripping wet hair, tangled in bandages. Threaded between his arms, chest and ears. Leave it to his ears to not make the matter easier either- the occasional twitches pulling everything and leaving him more tangled. What a mess… even moving his arms was neigh impossible. There was no choice- he’d have to do something he never wanted to do, in any circumstance…

“Chuuya!” There was no option but to call for him, even if shame burned through him. It wasn’t like Chuuya hadn’t seen him in more embarrassing situations before (that party does not count!). They were always talking about dumb things, and how Dazai had gotten caught in some traps for work (intentional and not).

The door burst open, bright red hair flashing in his vision as the boy looked at him. It was honestly a sight, seeing the big mighty demon prodigy in a pathetic heap on the floor wet and tangled in his own bandages. What was he going to do with Dazai? Was he pouting? Oh my god… Dazai was pouting, looking up at Chuuya with big round eyes, pleading for help as if he’d get it faster by trying to be cute.

Sitting on the floor of the bathroom, Chuuya slowly untangled the boy from all his bandages. Steadily, careful not to pull on any part of the already stable wrap- or the fur on the long bunny ears. Honestly, how did Osamu take care of those things? Still, their companionable silence (after Chuuya had laughed his ass off) was a sort of bonding silence, oddly enough. The methodical rhythmic motions lulled them both into a sort of pattern, undoing bandages, being careful not to pull on any fur.

“How do you deal with big ears like this?” Breaking the silence, Chuuya glanced up at his friend. Dazai had his eyes closed, his ears still as the quiet sounds of bandages filled the bathroom. How many times had he been asked that question? Did it even matter? Chuuya was asking for genuine reasons, not the sort of mocking he was so used to.

“What do you mean? I was born with them, so it’s not like I’ve ever been without them.” Why had he not thought of that? Chuuya felt dumb for asking, but that wasn’t exactly what he meant (it is but he refused to admit it). Scoffing and taking off the rest of the bandage that was tangled, he crossed his arms.

“You know what I mean dumbass! I don’t know any other hybrids-“

“One of Kouyou’s girls-“

“Doesn’t count!” No way in hell could he ever ask a girl about her hybrid stuff- especially not in front of Ane-San. That was like asking to be reprimanded and given another lesson in manners for hours, no thank you! Hearing Dazai giggle was enough, leave it to the most unserious boy alive to press him like that. “Come on Dazai, I don’t know anything about bunnoids- and that girl is a deer.”

Chuuya was right, hybrids were very different depending on what species they were mixed with- and at the very least, deers were also prey animals. Though, it was a big leap from a bunny… Osamu sighed, one of his ears slipping to the side. Avoiding the question was what he had been doing for months, his whole life with others but Chuuya had been wearing on him more. Of course he knew the answer, but it wasn’t like he was obligated to share them!

Tapping his foot on the floor, he tried to think of ways to at least get something for himself out of this. A bargain of sorts was always on the table, even if he had just used Chuuya’s shower, and shirt, and help untangling himself from the bandages…

Alright fine, no blackmail it is. He didn’t exactly have much left to ask for, not without Chuuya throwing gravity powered things at him. A lesson in Bunnoids for one ginger who had no clue what he was getting himself into! What a joy, Osamu would have so much fun messing with him!

“Alright fine! Basically it’s mostly the same as hair. Wash them, dry them, brush out the fur. Just like your ears, don’t let water get inside them.” Sure, that was just what he did, many bun-people changed what they did depending on their needs. Osamu had never needed any of the fancy oils for thin ears, or fur care products, it was just a waste of money. Though, Chuuya didn’t look too convinced.

“You sure?”

“They’re my ears, Chibi. Yes I’m sure.” What more could he be expecting? Dazai always stole Chuuya’s shower, and clearly there was no fancy ear oils, or fur conditioners in his bathroom. What more could he really have hidden?

“That just doesn’t feel right, but okay.” Sitting back, Chuuya picked up the towel, and dumped it over Dazai’s head. The damp cloth obscured his vision, leaving no way for him to guess what his fellow mafioso was going to do next.

“Hey! What was that for?”

“Your hair is still dripping wet.” The roughly annoyed voice of Chuuya answered back, though he didn’t get a moment to protest. Hands started moving the towel over his hair, and gently scrubbed at his ears.

Motions back and forth against the fur was nothing special, it was the exact same way he usually dried off himself. Yet, something in Osamu’s brain just went haywire at someone else doing it for him. Bunny-brain, that’s what he called it. The little voice in the back of his head that just felt so much pride at someone else washing him. It didn’t matter if Chuuya knew or not, by the one simple act of trying to dry his hair and ears he admitted that there was respect for Osamu being his superior.

Relaxing under Chuuya’s hands, he almost fell back into crossed legs. Before Dazai could fully give in to the little voice in the back of his head, the towel was pulled away. Finally, the other boy left the room so he could finish wrapping his bandages.

This time he didn’t get his ears caught in the tangles of spiraling fabric. Now in a loose T-shirt, Dazai left the bathroom to find his friend sitting on the bed, already changed to pajamas and relaxing with a movie playing in the background. Holding out a hair brush- it was Chuuya’s, of course- Dazai stood at the edge of the bed, just staring. With furrowed brows, the ginger glanced up at him.

“You want me to brush your hair? Why can’t you do it?” What a dumb question… (Dazai was not getting embarrassed, no way!).

“I’ll tell you anything you want to know about bunny hybrids if you brush out my hair and ears.” Osamu knew he had won when the shorter boy took the brush from his hands, even if there was some hesitance to it. Sitting down on the plush bed with his back turned to Chuuya, he let his ears relax. Once the brush hit the back of his head, his shoulders lost any tension they had been holding.

“So, what kind of things do bunny hybrids do?” Holding in his snarky response to Chuuya’s silly question was a test of willpower. He didn’t want the brushing to end early, that was the only reason he didn’t say it.

“Well, there’s plenty of small things. Ears are usually the biggest one, it’s a good sign of emotions.” Chuuya was gentle with the brush, it was shocking. Even when the boy was kind to him- like making him food, or letting him use the shower- it always felt like the first time experiencing it all over again. How they even went from fighting constantly to quiet moments like this was a mystery.

“Is it like a dog’s ears?” Of course, Chuuya wasn’t familiar with bunny behaviors, but a dog? Really? Dazai let out a small scoff at being compared to a dog, offended at such a question.

“I guess, most animals have a similar tell in the ears. Alert, relaxed, curious and agressive.” His ears twitched, causing a pause in the brush going over his damp hair. Tapping his foot on the bed, Osamu frowned, waiting for the brush to go back to soothing repetitive strokes against his head.

“Wait, I don’t think I’ve ever seen you do that.” Chuuya leaned forward, and as far as he recalled he couldn’t think of a single time outside of this apartment that Osamu had moved his ears other than sleeping. Was he… hiding those things?

“Being a mafioso is dangerous chibi, it’s helpful if people can’t read my ears.” It wasn’t dangerous for animal hybrids to hide those little things- it was just difficult. It was something similar to training yourself to not blush when embarrassed, hard but perhaps not impossible. What all could he really do if people were able to see what he was planning based on his ears alone?

“Still…” The brush pressed against his head again, slowly getting any tangle out of his hair with shocking gentleness. “What else? Surely there’s more to it than just your ears.” Osamu wanted to roll his eyes, even if Chuuya wouldn’t see it.

“All hybrids have behaviors from their animal counterpart. You just don’t know bunny behaviors, do you?” The brush pulled away again, asks he couldn’t help but look back. Chuuya’s small frown was funny, Dazai couldn’t get quite why he was upset.

“Do you want me to brush your hair or not?” Ah, he was snarky again. He couldn’t help his disposition, his little quips just came out naturally. Tapping his foot against the bed again, this time more loudly, Dazai huffed a little.

“Fine! I’ll explain things, just finish up.” As soon as he started explaining the various behaviors that carried over from bunnies, Chuuya began to brush out his ears, loose tufts of brown fur falling on to the bed.

“Wait, so you’re telling me-“ Chuuya cut himself off snickering, he couldn’t help it. Dazai was telling him things that just now started to make sense between his behavior and that of a bunny- and well, he couldn’t stop imagining Dazai as an actual bunny now. “That every time you’re tapping your foot like that… you’re throwing a bunny-sized tantrum?” Dazai gasped, his unbrushed ear twitching.

“I am not!”

“Yes you are! I bet you stomped so loudly throwing tantrums as a kid. Even now, I see you tap your foot all the time!” He couldn’t even deny it, Chuuya was right. That didn’t mean he was throwing a tantrum every time he did it! Bunnies thump for a few reasons, it just happened to be his first reaction to annoyance, thumping was just what he did.

“You try existing around the most annoying people alive and not doing something you’re hardwired to do.” Dazai knew all too well how quickly Chuuya turned to his gravity ability the second he got angry, even after shouting and arguing. Though luckily, it was less common around him, since his ability could just turn Chuuya’s off.

“I still think it’s a bunny-sized tantrum.” Swapping ears, the right one met with the brush. Dazai had to stop himself from thumping louder just to bother the short mafiosi, he knew just how to make the sound be as loud as possible. “You said purring too? I didn’t know bunnies could purr…”

“It’s not like a cat purr, but it’s still called purring.” One of these days, Osamu was going to decide that Chuuya knew too much. Though, these quiet late night moments were ones he’d cherish for a long time. What a crazy thought to have for a teenager, but it didn’t stop it from being true.

“What does it sound like if not rumbling?” What a silly question- to Dazai at least. Honestly, he had no idea why the sound was called purring when it was nothing like a cat’s.

“Almost like a chewing sound? At least in actual bunnies, it’s hard to explain in hybrids.”

Their night continued, the questions continuing until Chuuya knew everything he wanted about bunnoids- or at least all Dazai was going to share. The talking didn’t stop there, and the two kept talking until well into the early morning. Much to the frustration of both of them- as well as everyone around them- when they had to go to work the next morning. Dazai would wish a sleep deprived Chuuya on only his worst enemies, as much as he found it amusing himself.

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#bungou stray dogs #bsd #bsd secret santa #skk

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