#(yes i will always manage to make everything about chuuya mind your business)

[sasudou]

do you think the port mafia has an HR department

[soukokuwu]

NAKAHARA CHUUYA

TO CATCH A DREAM

》 fluff, for a change

》 word count: 2.3k

》 one of the prompts my sweet anon sent me, hope this isn’t too disappointing! (i’m also going to work on your other suggestions)

》 also, to the other anons— yes I’ll work on the Fyodor and Gogol requests too

“it takes you by surprise”

It had been, what, three years since you’ve left the Port Mafia? Why was it still causing an emptiness within you? Yes, it had been your home since you could remember, you practically grew up in the mafia. But Mori had practically sent Oda to his death. You had thought the world of Mori, admired him and his witty ways, how he managed to command the respect of such a huge organisation. But sending Oda into a suicide mission? Letting slip of the orphans under his care, using their death as a form of ‘motivation’?

That was too much. Way too much.

You weren’t close to Oda, not by a mile. You’ve only seen him interact with Dazai a few times, and other times you’ve only heard about Dazai rambling on about them drinking in Lupin. But you had heard enough about Oda to gain a certain amount of admiration for the man. He was part of the mafia, and yet you knew he could do much better.

His death led to Dazai’s departure from the Port Mafia. And yours.

The day he died, Dazai had visited you in the wee hours of the night, drunk and upset. He had told you everything. What Mori did, why he did it, what happened to Oda and what his last words were. It was the first and only time you’ve ever seen your best friend so distraught. You were in disbelief, but there was no denying– Mori could be that despicable.

You had packed up all your belongings and left with your best friend. It wouldn’t have been such a hard decision if there wasn’t anybody you would miss, but there was. And you couldn’t even warn him, you didn’t want to put him on the spot. If you told him you would leave, either one or two things would happen: he would help you keep it a secret or he would try to stop you. Both of it would end horribly, and you didn’t want to affect his life negatively. The Port Mafia was his home, the one place he felt that he belonged, and you didn’t want to take that away from him.

It had been three long years after you left the mafia and Yokohama. But now that you were back in the city, you felt emptier than you thought you would. As you took a seat on the ground, you peered out into the open sea. You remembered the last time you were here. With him. It was the last time you saw him before you left the mafia.

◢◤◢◤◢◤◢◤◢◤◢◤◢◤

“Do I finally get to call you mine?”

You shook your head at the redhead, exasperated, chuckling silently as you playfully pushed him. “Do you not get tired of asking me that?”

“Oh someone is still adamant on rejecting me, huh?” he droned on dramatically. The ginger poured some wine into your glass and looked up to the sky, pondering out loud, “Why doesn’t this beautiful lady want to be Mrs. Nakahara Chuuya?”

“Oh shut up,” you groaned, cringing at how cheesy he was being.

You got to know him through Dazai, since they had become partners, and he had transitioned into a dear friend of yours. It was always endearing to watch them squabble. Like two proud people who would never admit they actually work well together.

You remembered laughing a lot that night, wishing more nights could be like that. It was filled with innocent wonderment, the light brushing of your arms against his. The two of you were much more than friends and everyone could see that, but your aversion to anything that made you happy always reared its ugly head somehow.

The way you managed to ruin everything that made you happy the moment you obtained them– you didn’t want it to happen with Chuuya. You wanted him with you, forever, even if it meant you two weren’t together.

That night was filled with drinking wine and chilling by the seaside, talking about anything and everything all at once. You remembered laughing more than you did all day, and enjoying yourself more than you thought you could.

It ended when he realised you were getting a little too inebriated. He didn’t want you to be feeling too hungover the next day, he didn’t want it to affect your work. If you wanted to get wasted he would always entertain you on the weekends.

“Okay, we’re all out of wine tonight, let’s head back.”

“But I don’t want to,” you whined. You weren’t drunk at all, just a little light-headed. But you drank enough to be shamelessly honest. The normal you would not admit you enjoy the redhead’s company, but now the words were coming out unfiltered.

“Come,” Chuuya said, holding out his hand, patiently waiting for you to accept it.

You looked at him, dubious. “Come where?”

He sighed, hands reaching down to help you up, to which you resignedly complied. “I’m taking you home.”

A wave of surprise came over him as you replied, “As long as it’s you.”

Minutes later, you were clinging onto Chuuya for dear life. This was not what you had in mind when he said he’d take you home. You were practically standing on a small piece of land flying over the city, made possible thanks to Chuuya and his gravity manipulation. Thank god you didn’t drink that much, if not you were sure you’d be puking all over the city right now.

You were too busy burying your head in the crook of his neck to notice how much Chuuya was enjoying this. He was grinning widely, surprised to find that you were afraid of heights. Your face was all scrunched up in such an adorable expression of fear, and your hair was flowing so elegantly due to the wind. He tried to ignore the feelings bubbling up inside him, well aware you would only try to bury any that you harboured for him. If this was the only kind of intimacy he could afford with you, he would take it. He would enjoy this moment, hugging you and feeling your touch in return. This was better than nothing.

The trip home was quick, and you found yourself a little disappointed after pulling yourself away from Chuuya. He ruffled your hair affectionately after noticing your disheartened reaction. Why would you keep pushing him away when it’s evident that you wanted more? He always questioned himself of that, not that he ever allowed himself to actually ask you. The last thing he wanted was for you to feel uncomfortable.

“Get some rest, okay?”

“Yes, dad,” you mocked, sticking your tongue out.

Chuuya couldn’t help himself. He laughed at how adorable you were being, ruffled your hair, and let a ‘cute’ slip out. Your eyes widened, astonished by the sudden compliment. It was funny, Chuuya had thought he would be more embarrassed, but somehow he liked this. Being able to tell you how he felt– he liked it. His grin turned into a soft smile as he gazed at you, ruffling your hair, before leaning down to place a kiss atop your head.

“Goodnight.”

◢◤◢◤◢◤◢◤◢◤◢◤◢◤

Your heart beat faster as you recalled his tender kiss. It was pure, which made it all the more precious. You knew you were still in love with him, but that was something you had tried to keep buried deep within you. It was hard enough getting you to admit that to yourself while you were in the mafia, it would be even harder now that you were practically a fugitive. You managed to always give yourself an excuse, claiming that if it was supposed to be then it would happen.

Maybe it wasn’t meant to be after all.

The sun was setting over the horizon. The sky was painted in mesmerising orange hues. It felt calming, tranquil. You looked at your watch. It was almost seven. Time to get going. Dazai would start drinking without you at this rate. You got up and stretched, excited about meeting your best friend after three long years apart. You had heard he found a nice job and you couldn’t wait to get to know all about this new Dazai. With a slight skip in your step, you walked off.

“Who are you so excited to see?”

You froze at the friendly voice. The voice you’ve wanted to hear ever since you left. His shadow got closer to yours, and you could smell the familiar musky scent. You were stuck rooted to the spot, uncertain of what to do.

What was the best course of action here? It wasn’t like you could outrun him. You were still a Port Mafia fugitive, and he was still a Port Mafia executive, one very doted on by Mori himself at that. What if Mori found out you were here? What if he sent Chuuya here to test his loyalty? It would result in so much trouble. As much as Chuuya used to be intimate with you, you knew his role as executive would always come first to him. There was no escape if they already found you. Should you just jump in the river and hope you drown?

“Hey, I asked you something,” the redhead muttered impatiently. Once he realised you were too deep in thought to listen, he stepped closer toward you. Why are you shivering?

Panic was still afire in your mind. It was always a bad trait of yours. You weren’t very quick at thinking on your feet. Your mind was whirling through hundreds of different scenarios, but what happened next wasn’t something you would’ve thought of.

Arms embraced you from behind. From the corner of your eye you could make out his ginger hair, and you could feel his cheek against yours. His face was tilted in toward your neck, and you could feel his shallow breathing, your ears turning beet red from the proximity. You could feel his heart beat as he gently squeezed you, seemingly not wanting to let go. You had dreamt about this reunion countless times before, and now it was finally real.

“I- I was going to meet Dazai for a drink,” you choked out, half-surprised and half-terrified.

“Don’t be like that,” his warm, velvety voice pleaded.

The warmth in his tone calmed you down enough to make you stop overthinking the situation. If he was here to kill you, he would do it. If you ran, he would catch you in the end. Any kind of resistance would be futile. Any way this situation played out, you would be at his mercy. You might as well face your old friend genuinely. So you turned around, catching sight of that familiar face of home.

“Be like what?”

“Afraid of me,” he muttered. You could almost melt at his soft puppy-like expression. It almost looked like it pained him to see you. You wanted to assure him that you weren’t— not anymore, but you couldn’t get the words out. You were too happy. Tears were forming in your eyes. You didn’t even realise you had started smiling sweetly up at him.

Chuuya finally saw the smile that had been haunting him for years, the smile that he thought he’d never get to see again, the one he could only imagine being the reason behind. Now here it was, standing in front of him, and it was more magical than he thought it would be. He felt the glee building up inside him. The lady he was in love with since he first got to know her, the one that gripped his heart the instant he caught a glimpse of her smile and heard her laugh— she was back, and very real. This was not in his head. He enveloped you in another hug, a tighter one.

“Ditch him.”

“What?”

“Screw that shitty Dazai.” The ginger tucked your hair behind your ears before cupping your face with his gloved hands. “This time, come with me.”

There was a fire in his eyes that you’ve never seen before. Right in this moment, he was determined.

“But what about the mafia?”

“Mori let you go,” Chuuya stated, much to your surprise. “He asked me what we should do the moment you and that bastard left. I told him you were just an assistant medic. You knew next to nothing about the Port Mafia’s top secrets. But I also told him that if you threatened our existence that I would be the one who would stop you. It pacified him enough.”

So that’s why nothing bad ever happened to you by their hands. Right till the end, even after you left, Chuuya still protected you. It didn’t take a genius to see how betrayed Chuuya felt after he heard you had left with his partner with not so much as even a warning. No note, no explanation. He figured out why you left, Dazai was your best friend after all and he knew Oda was someone you looked up to from afar. It didn’t ease his anger, though, because your wordless departure had left him feeling fucked up even months after. It was as though you thought he wasn’t worth any explanation. He had thought that he could never forgive you for leaving, but now that you were together again he forgot he ever got mad at you.

Slowly, Chuuya inched toward you, his face drawing closer. When there was barely any space between the two of you, he stopped to ask, “So what do you say?”

“Okay, let me-” Just as you were reaching for your phone to postpone your plans with Dazai, hands pulled you toward them, crushing their lips with yours. It was soft and loving, patient and sweet— everything you imagined and more. Your brain was screaming at you to push him away, reminding you of the endless possibilities of how this could all go wrong, why you should protect yourself from it. But this time, your heart had reign over you. You were back in Yokohama and you were here to stay. Maybe this warranted you a chance to make yourself happy, to stop pushing his affections away.

Chuuya stopped the kiss, slowly pulling himself away, eyes fondly looking into yours. His hand was still holding the back of your neck and his heart was still filled with overwhelming exhilaration at your return. “I’d love to catch up but first things first,” he said in between breaths as he continued kissing you, “are you going to stay with me this time?”

“Always.”

“That’s my girl.”

“there is no other”

[tiaragqueen]

Hello is it possible to have a yandere Dazai and Chuuya with their f!crush who is a spy? (Dark era period please and thank you)

I, Spy [HCs]

Do not re-upload my writing to another website or use it without my permission.

It certainly won't end... well. Also, I'm not sure if you want me to merge them or not, so I wrote it separately.

If you like my writing, please support me on ko-fi!

Dazai Osamu

🎭 Very few things can elude his keen perception, and unfortunately, you’re not one of them. Dazai knows that you’re hiding something from everyone, and his suspicion only grows when you deliberately avoid him despite his attempts to do otherwise. Certainly, you’re not oblivious to his infamy and intelligence and your boss has warned you repeatedly to minimize any contact with him. You won’t deny that you find him eerie, too. There’s a shadow that lingers just behind the fake glint of excitement whenever he sees you, and the temperature always seems to drop at his arrival. It feels like there’s a black cloud that follows him everywhere, darkening the once neutral atmosphere.

🎭 Regardless, it doesn’t cease his efforts in the slightest.

🎭 Dazai will flirt with you relentlessly, pushing certain buttons hard enough to make you crack. Almost. You have a formidable composure, he gives you that. And because of this, his advance becomes more aggressive as he insists on accompanying you wherever you go. On one hand, you dread the prospect of spending more time with him outside work. You have enough enduring his bizarre antics and questionably amorous actions. And yet, on the other hand, you won’t deny that you’re somewhat… flattered with the attention. To think that you manage to grab his interest – someone so elusive and whimsical – is certainly a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity.

🎭 Make no mistake, though. Dazai doesn’t do anything without a reason. His flirtation is just there to cover his true intent; gathering intel about you. As much as he hates the Mafia sometimes, it’s the only place someone like him belongs to, and eliminating a spy is still a part of his duty. And he’s certain that sooner or later, Mori will order him to get rid of you, anyway.

🎭 Once he finishes putting down the last piece of the puzzle, Dazai will confront you. He’ll probably take you to a dimly lit alleyway under the pretense of walking you home because he’s nice like that. You’ve protested, saying that you’re strong enough to protect yourself. But Dazai has insisted with a charming smile and said that it won’t be gentlemanly of him to let a lady walk alone at night. Your quick surrender proves to be a fatal blunder, not that you’ll be able to fight him otherwise.

🎭 And when you inquire him about why he takes you to an alleyway instead of the main road (your heart has long thundered from embarrassment to apprehension), you feel a cool metal pressed against the back of your head. Dazai smirks, his eye already losing its light. Under the moonlight, that brown iris appears sparkling in red as he exposes you. Every plan that you’ve concocted, every secret call and message to your boss, everything that you’ve worked so hard to hide and compile are revealed and mocked callously.

🎭 You don’t know if it’s a good thing that he doesn’t bring his henchmen with him, but you’re certain that the outcome will be the same anyway. You’ll lie on the ground, bullet lodges in your skull as blood pours under your head. Or maybe he’ll torture you first. Whichever works the best for him.

🎭 But then, Dazai suddenly offers you a chance to live if you fake your death and go with him instead, essentially aborting your mission. The proposal sounds too good to be true, but you fear his torture more than the implication of his words.

🎭 Thus, you make another fatal blunder in your life.

🎭 Dazai's placid smirk widens when you tentatively places your hand in his. Intertwining your fingers together, he helps you stand up and compliments you for your ‘brilliant choice’.

🎭 And you soon learn that death is actually better than the life you’ll share with him.

Chuuya Nakahara

🍷 Chuuya isn’t very perceptive like Dazai, but he’s not stupid, either. Unlike his partner, though, the redhead is slightly more willing to give chances to other members. He knows that the people who work in Port Mafia aren’t pure, so he’s able to look past their flaws if they prove themselves enough. Chuuya isn’t needlessly cruel, either. And although there are times when he’s busy complaining about Dazai’s attitude, his company is generally pleasant to be around. Honestly, it doesn’t take a long time for you to grow close to each other, especially after he sees your abilities and decides that you’re worthy of his attention.

🍷 He’s not really aware that his interest has shifted to the romantic territory. Either Kouyou points this out to him, claiming that he’s been distracted lately, or when he’s inebriated and thinks about how lonely his apartment suddenly feels. If the former happens, Chuuya will vehemently deny it, but he’s not fooling anyone. Dazai will tease him endlessly, relishing the way his face grows hot from both anger and embarrassment. He jokingly threatens to ‘take you somewhere far’ and has more than one occasion interrupted your time together with the redhead, provoking his legendary wrath.

🍷 Eventually, Chuuya will be forced to confront his feelings when he accidentally stumbled upon you calling someone in a hushed voice. He’s quick to hide behind the corner, listening to you talking about everything that has happened in the Mafia lately. He’s heard Dazai flippantly warned him that you’re ‘more than what you look’, but Chuuya didn’t think too much about it. Why would that bandaged bastard suddenly be nice to him? He’s not dumb. If you’re acting suspicious, he’ll know it for sure. He’s the one who asked Mori to pair you up together, after all.

🍷 But Chuuya finally learns that emotions have clouded his judgment, and Dazai’s warning has been a much-needed slap of reality all long. He was just too blind to see it.

🍷 Stepping out of the darkness, Chuuya solemnly inquires you about the caller. You startle and quickly reassures him that it was just your father. He’s not easily convinced, however. With a swish of cold breeze, he materializes before you and lifts you by the neck. Your phone drops to the ground as you choke on your breath, begging him to release you. But he couldn’t; he couldn’t do that, not after everything you’ve done to him.

🍷 You’ve betrayed him. You’ve betrayed the organization that he loves so much. You’ve played with his heart, his trust, and most of all, his feelings.

🍷 And he can’t forgive you for that.

🍷 Oddly enough, Chuuya can’t bring himself to kill you even if he wants to. He knows that he needs to do it. It’s only fair, after all. But Chuuya merely stares at your gaping expression, ignoring the way you desperately claw his wrist to gain his attention.

🍷 Maybe this isn’t too late. Maybe he can convince you that there’s a better life out there. A life with him, far away from anyone who may poison your mind even further.

🍷 Yes, he nods to himself, he likes that. The idea of coming home to your embrace after a long, painful day. Or doing domestic things together, like a married couple. The thought alone nearly warms his cheeks had he didn’t feel your weakening pulse in his grasp.

🍷 Unceremoniously dropping you to the ground, you inhale as much air as possible. Chuuya joins you and wraps his arms around your heaving body, chin resting atop your head. He pats your back and reassures you that everything will change now. You don’t have to do anything anymore. You don’t have to work for anyone anymore.

🍷 You just have to devote your whole attention to him from now on, as compensation for letting you live.

[fifteenleads]

Scientific Method: a process that uses evidence and testing to investigate the unknown, usually following a set of steps in order to arrive at a conclusion.

(Way too tedious. And boring. And so unlike Dazai.)

— An SKK Gakuen AU.

Step One: Make observations.

Most treat it like a "Step Zero", though, to their teacher's dismay. An era of results and instant gratification guarantees zero patience for things that take time.

Chuuya's guilty as charged, of course.

In any case, Dazai is being annoying, as usual.

"Stop blowing raspberries into my ear," he hisses, ducking under his textbook. "It's disgusting as hell."

"Did not," Dazai singsongs in English to the tune of his annoying ringtone. How he manages to even carry a tune despite the bubblegum idol pop blasting from his huge headphones is a mystery, indeed.

Chuuya rolls his eyes at that. "Did, too." He lightly kicks Dazai's leg to get his attention. "Seriously, listen to me. This is important."

Dazai seems to have read his lips, pausing his iPod and taking his headphones off with an annoyed sigh. "What, chibi?"

Ugh, that's definitely intentional.

Chuuya lets that insult slide for now. "I need the budget for the props ASAP," he huffs, arms crossed. "The school festival is already next week, you know."

Five days, to be precise, but Dazai still acts like they still have five weeks. "Ask Higuchi to do it," he drawls, lazily waving Chuuya away. "We still have 120 hours, don't we?"

Dazai turns to him, raising an eye expectantly. Damn him and his lack of sense of urgency sometimes.

That said, though, he always manages to get shit done in time. Every single time, without fail. And Chuuya, in turn, is always baffled at how he does it, every single time.

Today he finds himself asking the same thing all over again. Ugh.

Dazai's still waiting for an answer.

Chuuya's way too tired for this. "120 and counting down," he answers in kind to prove his point. "I need to submit it by today, in case you forgot."

"Higuchi will do it," Dazai simply repeats, wearing his headphones again. "Come back here when you're done. I'll wait for you."

Chuuya opens his mouth, then closes it again. Inhale, exhale. Better.

"Fine," he relents for now, arranging his things. "You'd better still be awake, or I'll dropkick your bony ass to tomorrow. Got it?"

He only gets the same lazy wave in response as he leaves.

When Chuuya comes back to the classroom an hour later, Dazai is fast asleep at his desk, headphones awkwardly displaced around his face.

To be fair, Dazai never said yes at all.

Chuuya could only scratch his head at that. This is one mystery he doesn't feel like solving at all.

.

Step Two: Ask a question.

Easier said than done, really.

They've been seatmates for more than a year and co-class reps for half that time, but that's about it.

Chuuya had cursed his luck to high heaven and back, and Dazai knew it. Reveled in it, even.

Then he got used to it.

He prides himself in being a good team player for the most part, if nothing else. That said, though, this is the first major event they are handling together, and the weight of the responsibility isn't lost on him.

"—Oiiii. Earth to Chuuya?"

Dazai is staring holes into him, pointed nose a mere fingerbreadth from his. He quickly backs away in surprise, sending the stack of paperwork flying to the ground.

Dazai seemed to have expected this somehow, and he sinks back into his seat while breaking into an amused chuckle.

Chuuya slowly puts up a hand to his face, surely an embarrassing flush of red by now. This is what he gets for getting caught off-guard.

The meeting continues where it left off, with Dazai rattling off a string of numbers while Higuchi notes down everything. Luckily, no one else said anything anymore.

Chuuya's still in his own headspace as he walks home alone, having managed to successfully ditch Dazai for once. He stops at a vending machine for a can of iced coffee, since he'll be pulling another all-nighter.

He gets the hazelnut-flavored one by mistake. A reflex, really.

Downing it in one go, Chuuya grimaces at the nutty aftertaste at the back of his throat. He still doesn't see what Dazai likes about it.

That being said.

Since when has he been this preoccupied with thoughts of Dazai?

"Ever since," a voice from the back of his head whispers.

Chuuya feels his face heat up again at the thought. Traitor.

Maybe he's still only flustered about earlier. He also hasn't slept enough the past days. Also stress from festival prep.

Or, he's only confused. Yup, that's definitely it.

That instantly makes him feel better.

.

Step Three: Formulate a hypothesis.

1. Dazai's annoying.    2. Dazai's very annoying.    3. Dazai's very, very annoying.

This one goes into the wastebasket, of course— as if he didn't already know that.

Chuuya's eyes trail to Dazai as he reads aloud a paragraph from the textbook.

It gets increasingly difficult to follow along with the lesson at hand when he's absolutely distracted by that rich, warm voice, carefully enunciating each word in the passage.

"Thank you, Dazai-kun," the teacher nods in satisfaction. "You may sit down."

As Dazai takes his seat, he turns his gaze ever so slightly in Chuuya's direction and their eyes briefly meet.

No sparks fly in all directions, but Chuuya feels a faint jolt of electricity run from his chest outward to every inch of his body.

Then Dazai smirks— the bastard.

1. He's definitely riling me up.

Dazai's smug face lasts only for a fraction of a second before it reverts back to one of disinterest.

Chuuya definitely knows better, though: from the dip of his eyebrows to the twitching of the corner of his lip.

2. He can be serious as hell.

Chuuya ends up mulling over his list through last period. He doesn't notice that class is over until Dazai sneaks up on him and quickly blows into his ear.

"Argh— goddamnit Dazai, every single time!"

Dazai sticks out his tongue in response. "That's for ditching me yesterday."

Chuuya groans in disbelief. Petty much?

He will never understand what he even sees in Dazai at all, at this rate.

Surprisingly, the very thought does the trick for him, and he takes note of it in his notebook at once.

"What's that?" Dazai attempts to peek over his shoulder, but Chuuya manages to evade him, snapping the notebook shut and glaring at him. "None of your business."

It only makes Dazai laugh. "Fine, then. I'll find out by next week."

"Is Nakahara here?" Kunikida from the next class calls from outside. Oh yeah, meeting.

"Gotta go," he excuses himself, half-relieved.

And that was that— for now.

Chuuya doesn't look at the third item on his new list until he's home. It's... strange and vague and unlikely as hell, but there it is anyway, in bold, red ink:

3. This might be a crush (???)

.

Step Three-point-five: Refine the hypothesis.

This is absurd, Chuuya thinks.

He's taken to scribbling his thoughts on a dog-eared spare notebook, since Googling "Do I have a crush on my classmate" was evidently useless.

The result ended up looking like a conspiracy map. Ugh.

Chuuya considers his three-and-a-half pages of chicken scratch before tearing them off.

It feels like he's dug himself into a hole at this point. Not that he minds staying in it, if it means he doesn't have to see Dazai tomorrow.

School festival's tomorrow, though.

Double ugh.

Chuuya honestly thought he was already too old for this shit. No, really.

Now his 15-year-old palpitating... red organ thing is laughing at him for it.

(He still chugs the rest of his coffee anyway. Mmm.)

Running won't solve anything, Nakahara.

Inhale, exhale.

Back to work:

H0 (null): He doesn't have a crush on Dazai. H1 (alternative): He has a crush on Dazai.

There, much more... straightforward.

Dazai would probably laugh at him for misusing a stat concept like this, but it serves his purpose just fine. It's not like he'll find out anyway.

It's one or the other.

(He'd have to decide sooner or later, anyway. Best to strike while the iron is hot.)

.

Step Four: Gather data.

(Because there's no time to experiment.)

It's only Day One, but micromanaging proves to be more challenging than expected. It comes with being second-in-command though, so Chuuya takes it all in stride.

Dazai, on the other hand, is on his phone, mindlessly scrolling and tapping and humming to himself between listening to the team's reports and ordering everyone else around.

Magnificent bastard's a born leader.

Chuuya peeks at his own phone; stopwatch app's still running

Dazai's been on his mind for... 6 hours now.

(No, really. Despite all the chaos. Yes, he's been keeping track.)

Others:

1. They've been using the same shampoo. The smell of activated charcoal has never been this alluring.    2. They think in the same way, apparently. Higuchi of all people had noticed. "You realized just now?"

And... And!...

3. They've been sharing breakfast for a year now. Bites out of the same bread, gulps from the same bottle of water, the works.

It makes Chuuya run for the nearest faucet to scrub off the blush on his face.

He's only left with cat-scratch nail marks and a soaking wet shirt for it, so clearly he shouldn't have bothered.

Welcome to adolescence.

Dazai is mildly amused when Chuuya returns to the classroom. "Had fun, chibi?"

No thanks to you, stupid beanpole.

Day Two isn't any different, but they're more used to the work by then, so they manage to close up much earlier.

Chuuya and Dazai are the last to leave the classroom, having finished the stocks inventory for Day 3 while everyone else went to enjoy the festival.

It's five PM.

"Ah, freedom!" Dazai yawns loudly as he says this, stretching his arms upward before swinging them around.

Chuuya ducks to the side to avoid getting hit. "Ugh, watch it!"

To his credit, Dazai drops his arms back at once. "Oh. Sorry."

He adds a smile to that. It's beautiful.

How hadn't he noticed that before?

The early sunset bathes the corridor in pale red-orange, as well as their white polo shirts. Dazai's messy hair seems to shine, too, if anything.

Chuuya's reaching up to touch it before he realizes. Greasy but soft.

Also: "You have freckles."

Dazai's confused at the sudden contact. He doesn't withdraw, though. "You, too." A smile. "Faint ones, as small as you are, across your nose."

Then he leans in and traces the cat-scratch marks on Chuuya's cheeks. "You've been distracted since last week. What happened?"

.

Step Five: Analyze the data.

Step Six: Draw a conclusion.

Step Seven: Share your findings.

...

Wait, wait, wait.

The moment feels like a jolt of electricity and the numbness after, and then some. Those who said people short-circuit were onto something, after all.

Chuuya doesn't register anything for the entire minute Dazai shakes him back to reality.

Then something wet goes into his ear.

He lets out an unholy screech right there and then, instinctively covering his ear in disgust. Dazai, too, has a finger in both of his, face contorted into something between a wince and a grin.

A beat.

Two more.

And Chuuya laughs his head off. He doesn't know anymore.

Dazai does, too, and they devolve into a pair of crazy hyenas— not that anyone would notice.

It's only a good five minutes later that they catch their breath, slumped on the wall, leaning into each other for support.

"You okay now?" Dazai asks him, still trying not to laugh.

Chuuya only huffs loudly in reply. Dazai takes it as a yes.

"Now that that's out of our system,"— and he goes back to business mode— "will you tell me what's going on?"

Hypothesis 2: Dazai can be serious at times.

(He has always been, though.

Chuuya only refused to see it.)

The next thing he knows, their faces are too close for comfort.

Chuuya takes a nervous gulp. It felt more like gasping for air, the way Dazai frowns at him for it.

Hypothesis 1: Dazai likes to rile him up.

(Maybe? Why, though?

Now he's not so sure anymore.)

Maybe it would be wiser to just forget it. This only happened because he overthought many things.

There's still time to back out.

Dazai won't let him, though, if the intense glare he has on now is any indication.

Inhale, exhale.

Moment of truth:

"Here's the deal" Chuuya starts, momentarily avoiding Dazai's gaze as he finds the right words to say. "We've worked together for so long now. And yes, I still think you're annoying as hell."

Dazai merely hums at that, as if he were expecting it. He doesn't say anything, though.

"A lot of times, though, you pull through. Get things done— magnificently at that. I really don't know how you do it, sometimes.

"The past week made me think about these things. Maybe even earlier than that. Who knows? Does it even matter?

"In any case, I realized something."

By now, the sunset is as deep red as his cheeks, and he feels himself burning up inside.

(Running now won't solve anything.

One or the other.)

Chuuya meets Dazai's eyes.

It's now or never.

"I like you," he says with finality. "And that's all you're getting out of me for now."

Chuuya lets out another huff to prove his point, and holds his breath. And waits.

A beat.

Two more.

It's Dazai who sighs in relief.

And what a sight to behold: his lithe form slumping forward against Chuuya's, the tension in his muscles dissipating with the remnants of the afternoon heat.

"Whew," Dazai finally manages after a while, "you finally said it."

"... Huh?"

"I told you, right? I'll find out soon."

"You didn't read my notes."

"Of course not," Dazai laughs. "You /were/ mumbling a little too loud to yourself these days, though. It was easy to piece things together."

Ugh.

Chuuya rubs at his temples. If only he has something to chuck into Dazai's face right now.

It doesn't explain Dazai's exaggerated reaction just now, though...which he isn't at all trying to cover up, unlike all the times he played pranks before. Unless..

...Oh.

It takes Chuuya only a moment: "You—"

"Yeah," Dazai breathes out. "And that's all you're getting from me, too."

No problems there. Chuuya likes straightforward people.

He still headbutts Dazai for it, though. "Payback," he says simply before he hears complaints.

"Fair enough," Dazai mutters under his breath. "We even now?"

"Yeah."

A bit anticlimactic, all things considered, but Chuuya finds he likes it, too.

Now that that's out of his system, though... "Now what?"

It's a pretty loaded question, and they both know it. No one just suddenly admits and enters into... whatever this is, without a plan.

Dazai stares back, just as cluelessly— but not for long: "I think I know what."

Chuuya decides he still doesn't like that grin at all.

"Remember the lab primer in science? There's a certain procedure we follow to investigate what we don't know."

This time, it's Chuuya who slumps. Good lord.

.

Step Eight: Start over.

.

.

.

For Kiro.

[crow-writes-stuff]

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: 文豪ストレイドッグス | Bungou Stray Dogs Rating: General Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Nakahara Chuuya & Nakajima Atsushi (Bungou Stray Dogs), Akutagawa Ryuunosuke & Nakahara Chuuya (Bungou Stray Dogs), Akutagawa Ryuunosuke/Nakajima Atsushi (Bungou Stray Dogs), possible Dazai Osamu/Nakahara Chuuya (Bungou Stray Dogs) Characters: Nakahara Chuuya (Bungou Stray Dogs), Dazai Osamu (Bungou Stray Dogs), Edogawa Ranpo (Bungou Stray Dogs), Nakajima Atsushi (Bungou Stray Dogs), Akutagawa Ryuunosuke (Bungou Stray Dogs) Additional Tags: Edogawa Ranpo is a Little Shit (Bungou Stray Dogs), Armed Detective Agency Member Nakahara Chuuya (Bungou Stray Dogs), Nakahara Chuuya Is So Done (Bungou Stray Dogs), atsushi has a crush on akutagawa, Chuuya accidentally makes Atsushi realise his feelings, neither of them is happy about this, Nakahara Chuuya Swears (Bungou Stray Dogs), Protective Nakahara Chuuya (Bungou Stray Dogs), Fluff Series: Part 4 of Affirmation Summary:

Chuuya and Atsushi are supposed to buy snacks for Ranpo. On this very important mission they run into Akutagawa.

There is a loud, pitiful sigh. Chuuya grits his teeth and forces himself to keep working on the report he's supposed to write. Another sigh. "Ranpo-san, are you alright?" Atsushi is the first one to break. Chuuya can see Dazai hide a triumphant smirk. The bastard shouldn't be so smug about it, even Chuuya could have guessed this outcome.

"No! I'm dying," comes the overdramatic response almost immediately. Chuuya keeps writing.

"What's wrong, Ranpo-san?" Kenji is now also thoroughly distracted by the detective's antics.

"I'm out of snacks!" Chuuya fucking knew it. He's been here for barely two weeks, and he fucking knew it. "Again? Didn't we stock up just a while ago?" "They're all gone," the detective whines. "I'm gonna die." If only it was that easy.

Chuuya can feel the detective's eyes on him. He's not doing him the favour of looking up. "Hey, Mr Fancy Hat."

Chuuya is going to kill him. "What," he says, eyes still focusing on his report.

"Buy me more snacks."

What Chuuya wants to say is: "Can't you do it yourself?" or simply "Fuck off." Instead, he takes a deep breath and says: "Fine." Because they've already been through this song and dance. Twice. In two weeks. Chuuya is going to kill someone.

He can't refuse, because he's supposed to 'follow any order by the Agency members' as Edogawa and Dazai like to remind him. And the detective is completely fucking incapable of being a normal functioning person, so he can't do this shit himself.

At least he can annoy Dazai in the same vein. Chuuya stands up and lightly kicks against Dazai's leg. "Get up." Dazai stares up at him as if he has no clue why he would be dragged into this. "You're supposed to keep an eye on me, remember?" Dazai pouts at him. As if that would help either of them right now.

Suddenly his eyes light up, and Chuuya does not like that.

"Atsushi-kun," Dazai says in a cheerful voice. "No," says Chuuya. "What is it, Dazai-san?" asks Atsushi. Chuuya groans.

"I think it's safe if you go with Chuuya in my stead." At the unsure look Atsushi gives him, Dazai adds: "Don't worry, he's been very well behaved these last weeks. He won't cause any trouble." Speaking about Chuuya as if he's a dog. Once again. Chuuya is going to kill Dazai instead of Edogawa. Maybe both of them.

Atsushi is still not convinced. "Is that really okay? The president said-" Dazai interrupts: "I'm sure the president won't mind. But you see, I'm very busy at the moment, and we would all save valuable time if you would do this for me." Chuuya, who has seen how busy Dazai is, rolls his eyes. But he's tired of arguing. "One of you is going to move your ass, or there will be no snacks for anyone." At the horrified gasp of the detective, Atsushi finally gets up.

"Thank you, Atsushi-kun!" Dazai calls with a self-satisfied grin. "Oh, and Chuuya, if you're already going to the store, could you buy groceries for us?" Chuuya glares at him. "I was already planning to do that. It's not like you can be trusted with it anyway." Dazai pouts, as Chuuya heads out the door, Atsushi behind him.

"Dazai-san can't be trusted to go grocery shopping?" Chuuya shrugs. He's more relaxed now that they're no longer surrounded by people that still regard his every move with suspicion. "He always just buys what he fancies at the moment, usually canned crab or something like it. Not that I expect anything different at this point." Atsushi fidgets with his belt as they head down the street, clearly wanting to say more. "Just ask," Chuuya sighs.

"Uh, well, did you and Dazai-san live together before he... You know, left?" "Not officially," Chuuya says as they cross the street. "I mean when we were on missions obviously, but otherwise we each had our own place. But Dazai mooched off of me so much that I just started cooking for us both." "I see," Atsushi says, and that's the end of the conversation for now as they reach the store.

Chuuya grabs a shopping basket for himself and hands one to Atsushi. "Do you need to get anything besides- Atsushi?" The boy has completely frozen up, staring at something behind Chuuya. Alarmed, Chuuya spins around. It's easy to spot the reason for Atsushi's reaction. Akutagawa Ryuunosuke is standing at the end of the aisle, similarly frozen. At least he looks better than the last time Chuuya saw him. Chuuya relaxes, just before the other two get over their shock, both taking on fighting stances.

Nope. This is not happening. Chuuya takes a step forward, positioning himself between the two. "No," he says. The boys blink at him. "No fighting. I'm not putting up with that right now." "Chuuya-san-" "No arguing either." Chuuya turns towards Akutagawa. "Did Gin ask you to buy some groceries?" The boy nods, dumbfounded. "Do you need help?" After a moment of hesitation, a shrug. That's as much of a yes, as Chuuya's going to get. He nods, making a decision.

"Atsushi, you're going to pick out the snacks Edogawa likes. Ryuu and I are going to get our groceries and join back up with you at the end." He turns to see Atsushi mouth a silent "Ryuu?" before nodding, dazed.

Chuuya heads towards Akutagawa who's still staring daggers at Atsushi but follows without protest. "Do you have a list?" He gets handed one silently, quickly looking it over. "Okay, this shouldn't take too long. Come on."

Chuuya leads them through the aisles, picking out both his and the Akutagawas' groceries on the way. Ryuu stays quiet, except for the occasional answer when asked something. Chuuya doesn't mind. From time to time, he adds something to the other's basket, like Gin's favourite tea, which she doesn't deem a necessity and therefore never buys herself. Or in this case, asks her brother to buy.

Soon enough, everything on the list is in Ryuu's basket, and Chuuya has enough groceries for Dazai and him to last the week. Maybe longer, depending on how much Dazai actually is willing to eat. Chuuya really wonders sometimes how his partner managed to survive the past four years.

They pick up Atsushi who has filled his own basket to the brim with snacks and sweets, and head to the register. Atsushi keeps glancing at Akutagawa and Chuuya can almost physically feel the other's patience thinning. "Stop provoking him," he finally says, shooting Atsushi a look.

The kid looks honestly surprised. "I'm not! I'm not doing anything!" Chuuya sighs. Dazai really wants these two to work together. "Stop staring at him like that." Earning another confused look, he adds: "Actually, just stop looking at him altogether. We only need to pay, and you can go your separate ways again."

They manage to pay without causing an incident. Chuuya is silently glad when they finally leave the store. As expected, Ryuu doesn't linger long. He nods at them, "Chuuya-san, Weretiger," and is off. Chuuya almost laughs. "Does he always call you that?" Atsushi makes a face. "Yes, I can't get him to stop." "Cute." "It's not!" The bright red cheeks do nothing to make Chuuya rescind his statement. He takes the grocery bags, ignoring Atsushi's protests, and heads towards the Agency.

When they're finally back, Chuuya unceremoniously drops the bags filled with snacks on Edogawa's desk, who doesn't even say thank you. He takes the other two bags and puts them down next to Dazai who immediately starts pulling things out to inspect. "Aw, Chuuya even bought crab for me!" Chuuya rolls his eyes.

"Hey, kid, you alright?" Kunikida asks, voice already suspicious again. Chuuya turns around to see Atsushi sitting on a couch with his head in his hands. He frowns, not sure what this is about.

Atsushi nods but doesn't look up. Which is only causing more suspicion. Kunikida moves closer, very obviously keeping an eye on Chuuya. "Seriously, if something happened, you need to tell us."

Chuuya crosses his arms. "He was fine just moments ago."

Atsushi finally looks up. His cheeks are red again, and oh no. Chuuya has a horrible suspicion. "Is this because of my comment?" "What comment?" Kunikida asks, but Atsushi already, hesitantly, nods.

Oh no.

Chuuya takes a deep breath before stepping forward. "Atsushi," he starts, voice level, ignoring the people around him. Especially Dazai. "Do you have a crush on Akutagawa?" The room goes dead silent. Everyone is either staring at Chuuya or at Atsushi. Atsushi who flushes even more and avoids his eyes. Atsushi who very clearly would rather be anywhere else right now. "Maybe?"

Fuck. Fucking hell. Chuuya is actually going to kill someone today, and it is neither of the ones he expected.

Familiar arms sneak around his waist, holding him in place. Of course, it's fucking Dazai. Chuuya glares up at him. "This is your fault." Dazai doesn't even act surprised, he just smiles. "I wouldn't know how." "You set this whole thing up in the first fucking place." Dazai shrugs, still holding onto Chuuya. "I don't see the problem. It's kinda cute, isn't it?" And, oh, Chuuya knows that smile. Dazai is going to take full advantage of this situation. Something Atsushi seems to realises as well, judging by his suddenly horrified expression.

Chuuya turns back towards the boy. "Don't hurt him." Atsushi nods, face pale. Chuuya doesn't have to threaten him to get the message across. The implications are enough.

Finally, Chuuya sighs. This day took a turn he doesn't exactly appreciate. He taps on Dazai's arm. "You can let go of me. I'm not going to kill him." Dazai smirks. "What if I don't want to let go?" Chuuya rolls his eyes. "Then, no work gets done, and Kunikida will yell at us." Dazai pouts but does finally let go of him.

They return to their desks, with Dazai definitely sitting closer than necessary. Perhaps he wants to make sure Chuuya doesn't change his mind and goes after Atsushi. Perhaps he's just being annoying.

Chuuya glares at him. "Don't you fucking dare." With innocent eyes, Dazai pulls back the paperwork he just tried to sneak onto Chuuya's pile.

Chuuya suppresses a sigh. This day is already too much, and it's not even noon yet. He's not sure he's looking forward to the rest of it. He feels a tap on his arm and looks up to see Dazai smiling at him. Alright. Perhaps it's not all bad. And he's reasonably sure Atsushi isn't going to hurt Akutagawa on purpose. He's still going to keep an eye on the situation, but he can live with it. It's all going to be fine. Probably. Chuuya returns to his report, Dazai next to him. Yeah, it'll be okay.

[writing-radionoises]

attachment

ship: odazai, kunikidazai

genre: angst with a bittersweet ending

prompt: dazai slowly learns to deal with feelings

notes:  i actually got really pissed that people kept saying fake deep shit about soukoku and throwing just about everything odasaku did for dazai away so then i decided to. write this odasaku did not die just for yall to say chuuya is the reason dazai decided not to kill himself. also thank you to mushroom mother by pinocchiop for the inspiration

It was easy to categorize at first, Oda and Dazai's relationship.

Dazai had never had any attachments, and Odasaku wasn't going to change that.

He had never had any friends, lovers, parental figures, ect.

There was no point in having them, anyway, because in the end, they would die.

They always did.

Dazai would live and die as a Port Mafia executive, and the only ones to remember his name would be government officials.

And he was fine with that. He couldn't change it anyway.

At least, he was pretty sure he couldn't…

--

"Don't tell me you actually like that guy," Ango said while they sat at the bar, sipping at a rum and coke.

"Well, I don't know," Dazai answered, scratching at the bandage over his eye, "He makes me happy, though I suppose a friend could do that too… I don't think it matters anyway, it's not like we can really have any sort of relationship."

"You're a strange one, Dazai."

"I'm fully aware," answered Dazai as he passed his drink but the bartender, "Did you put cyanide in this like I asked?"

The bartender nods his head, "You ask every single time, no, I will not put cyanide in your drink."

Dazai sighed, taking the glass into his hand, "I guess that's fine… Ango, tell me something."

Ango looks back at Dazai, fixing his glasses, "Yes?"

"Would you care if I died?"

The bar falls silent as the brunette awaits Ango's response, watching him swirl the drink around in his hands.

"To be honest, I don't think so. You are a good friend, less of a friend and even more of a good silence filler. But, I don't think I value our relationship enough to really miss you."

Dazai's lips curve up into a slight smile.

"I thought you'd say that."

--

"Hey, Odasaku!"

The reddish-brown haired man turned around from his place in the parking lot, looking back at Dazai as he waved him down with his free hand. Dazai rushed up to him, struggling to keep his jacket on with one broken arm, but he managed.

His apprentice was rather rough with him during this last training session, not that Dazai minded.

He just wished Akutagawa would kill him already.

"Hey, I haven't seen you in awhile," Odasaku commented, "You need something?"

"No, I was just in the area and wanted to see you," Dazai responded, "I'm not interrupting you, am I?"

Odasaku nodded a no, "Not at all. I just got done visiting the orphans. Maybe we can go out? Talk a little bit?"

"... Like a date?" Replies the brunette hesitantly.

"In a way, yes."

Dazai smiled a bit, "I'd like that."

--

They ended up at a park, sitting by the water underneath a cherry tree, talking this and that.

Dazai just watched Oda intently, listening to him talk as the sun started to go down.

"... I think, if I were to get out of the mafia, I'd like to settle down. You know, like how couples do when they hit thirty or so. Get married, adopt some kids… Domestic things like that," Oda replied, "I'm not boring you, am I?"

Dazai nodded a no, "Not at all. I like hearing your thoughts, it's interesting."

Oda chuckles, "I am afraid you're the only one who thinks that."

"Well, other people aren't very smart, hm?"

"Maybe so."

The two fell silent, listening to the river rush by as Dazai turned his head away from Oda, and instead up towards the falling flowers of the cherry tree.

"Odasaku."

"Yes?"

"Would you care if I died?" Dazai asked.

"Of course," Odasaku answered without a second thought, "I'd care very much, you're very dear to me, Dazai."

"Are you… certain?" Dazai asked, a puzzled look on his face, "You aren't supposed to form attachments in the mafia…"

The last part was more of a reminder to himself than Odasaku.

"You can't let the mafia dictate your entire life, Dazai," the brunette replied, looking back at Dazai, "I know you were raised here with those beliefs, but there is much more out there, much more to experience. Don't be the mafia's pawn, be a person."

Be a person…

"Hm…" Dazai replied, looking down at his knees.

He'd think about it.

--

Oda is smiling as his head lays in Dazai's lap.

If it weren't for their current environment, Dazai could've forgotten he was even dead.

He runs his fingers through the other's red-brown hair.

It's so soft. So pretty.

He shouldn't have died so soon…

Dazai doesn't even realize the cold tears running down his cheek, the shivering of his body or the shaking of his hands.

"Odasaku…" Dazai manages to choke out, shortly after muttering thousands upon thousands of apologies.

This is why you don't get attached to people, is what Dazai's brain says, but it doesn't even matter.

Dazai is too busy mourning his fallen friend, his unrequited would-be lover.

There was so much more he wanted to do with him, so much he wanted to tell him.

Dazai wanted to leave the mafia with him, get married and adopt orphans and live happily ever after, like Odasaku had talked about so much.

Even if it would've made this moment more painful, he would've like to tell Odasaku he loved him…

… Become a good man.

That's what he said, isn't it? Dazai thought.

He began to dry his tears on his jacket.

Oda wasn't here to protect or take in orphans anymore… People like his pupil, Akutagawa, could easily just die on the street without people like Oda…

Oda isn't alive to leave the mafia, either, or settle down like he wanted…

I'll… do it for him. Dazai thought.

I'll do what he never got to do. Just for him.

--

"You look to be mourning," said an older man, his name is Fukuzawa, Dazai reminded himself.

"I am," Dazai answered from his place in front of a grave. Fukuzawa takes a seat beside him.

"Oda Sakunosuke?" He asked, and Dazai nodded, "A friend or a lover?"

"... It's complicated," Dazai replied.

"Would you feel better to explain?"

Dazai fell silent for a moment, then continuing, "I had never met someone I genuinely felt connected to until the moment I met Odasaku. It felt like having mushrooms grow all over me, being infected with feelings I couldn't process… I tried getting rid of them, time and time again, but they always came back… I didn't hate my feelings for Odasaku, I just knew it was a danger for both of us… When he died, I went back to having one singular emotion of sadness, like all the mushrooms just fell off. And then seeing other everyday people experience feelings and not having to worry about them made me… feel silly looking and pathetic. I never got to sort out my feelings for him or even tell him but everyone else… Nevermind, that's not a very kind thing to say… sorry…"

"That's okay," Fukuzawa says, "You haven't been showing up to the agency recently. Is this why?"

"Kind of. I just miss him dearly, even though it's been two years…"

"It's okay to miss someone, no matter how long ago they just your life, whether or be through death, a fight, or anything in between. You can still miss Sakunosuke twenty years from now, and it'll be perfectly valid, Dazai," Fukuzawa explained calmly, placing a hand on Dazai's back.

Dazai snickered, "You sound like the dad I never had."

"Perhaps I should be."

--

"... Kunikida is an amazing fiance, and I'm sure he'll be a great husband, too," Dazai said from his spot beside the grave, under a cherry tree.

"And Atsushi… he's like a son to me, you would have loved him. And Kyouka, too, she's so cute. You would've loved the whole agency…"

Dazai sighs, looking over to Odasaku's grave, with fresh roses placed by it.

"... I'm trying really hard to be a good person, Odasaku. It's hard… I'm trying to make things up with Akutagawa, but I just keep… fucking up…" Continued the brunette, "I've hurt him so much, and I just keep falling back into hurting him… but I'm trying. It's the thought that counts, right?"

Odasaku doesn't respond, not that Dazai expects him to. He knows his friend is long dead, but talking to him like this eases the pain.

"I haven't been thinking about killing myself as much, or at least, not in a serious way. I wouldn't say I'm happy to be alive but… At least I'm not upset that I'm alive…"

Dazai falls silent, standing up and moving in front of the grave, "I like to think you're proud of me, Odasaku. I hope that's true… Odasaku, I'll talk to you tomorrow..."

Dazai turns his back, beginning to walk away from the grave as he hums one last thing under his breath to Odasaku.

"I'm still in love with you, you know?"

[mahkaria]

There are none so blind

Here is my gift for @empathique I really hope you’ll like it ! 

Prompts : Fluff, Hurt/comfort, Mutual Pining (well I tried to put Mutual Pining, I don’t know if it worked)  I tried to mix a bit of all those ideas. 

Warning : Chuuya’s language and attempted suicide

A special thank to @dazatsu-exchange for organizing this event and for their work. Thank you very much. 

English is not my mother language so I apologize if some sentences are clumsy or don’t make any sense. I swear I did my best to avoid grammar mistakes.   Far from the main road, in a dusty bar not as popular as it had once been, stood two people. Despite the lively conversation they were engaged in, it would have been complicated to call them close friends. One of them had the careful tone of a trapped beast and the other watched his interlocutor, almost scrutinizing him, like a predator waiting for his prey to commit one mistake. 

“The agency has been getting less job those days, hasn’t it?”

“Not really, we just mainly get small cases like investigating murders and robberies.” The other said, taking a small sip from his drink.

 Not for the first time, the man, Sakaguchi Ango, wondered if it would work. 

After the fight against the Decay of Angels, once the whole chaos which had almost destroyed Yokohama had finally subsided, Dazai and he had put forward the idea of reforming their friendship. Ango because he missed the close bond they used to share and Dazai… well it was complicated to know what was really going on inside his mind. 

The detective hadn’t protested when Ango had asked him to meet at Lupin’s but his tense behaviour was proof enough there was still a long road to cross. Dazai didn’t really talk. He didn’t except for answering to Ango’s question. This lack of motivation wasn’t really a surprise. Yet, Ango didn’t know how he’d manage to endure it. “You still had to take care of an illegal organisation a few weeks ago.”A small smile appeared on Dazai’s lips. 

“It didn’t take a lot of time. Ranpo-san found their base in a second and Atsushi-kun dealt with them. They didn’t stand a chance.”

“He didn’t get hurt, did he?”

Dazai glanced at him as if to say “Why would you care? You didn’t mind when it concerned Odasaku?” but didn’t comment. 

“Of course not, Atsushi-kun is strong, he won’t get hurt so easily. His control over his ability is really amazing especially if you consider how short it has been since he learnt about it. Not everyone could have done what he did.”

It would have been hard to describe the emotion behind those words. During their acquaintance, Ango had never had the opportunity to hear it. It sounded like a mix between pride and affection. “Can you tell me more about him?”

“What would the military want with Atsushi-kun?”

“I’m just curious.”

“Are you?” He asked with his usual mischievous tone. Ango noticed with surprise it didn’t have any bitterness in it. 

“If you like him, he must be interesting.” He explained.

“He really is.” 

After this, the evening went swiftly. Ango could see the other gradually relax and let one or two genuine smiles break his careless mask. Ango inhaled deeply. Maybe everything still had the potential to be alright.

Because of his involvement with the ADA during the whole Decay of Angels’ crisis, Ango had officially been nominated as a (babysitter) Liaison officer. It mainly meant that once a week he’d have to deal with the agency’s shenanigans. Mostly Dazai’s. And sometimes Kunikida’s.

(His superiors had found the perfect way to punish him. This was a true anxiety-provoking place. It had also increased his paperwork to such an extent he barely remembered what sleep felt like.)

However, despite his new responsibilities, he had never got the opportunity to properly meet Nakajima Atsushi. He knew about his abilities, a bit about his past but nothing about the kind of person he was.

A part of him almost feared he’d be as… chaotic (?) as Dazai. It would explain why the former mafioso was so fond of him. Was fond the correct expression?

 He didn’t have enough datas to define their relationship. 

He walked toward the building. He had a meeting with the agency’s president. His younger, more innocent self could have thought it’d be an easy task but it seemed the agency never took a break. The first time he came, he had almost received a chair to the head. 

Sure, the agency seemed to be quite a serious organisation, worthy of acknowledgment and respect. In theory. After a few months of collaboration, Ango knew it was just an over glorified madhouse.

Climbing three floors in his physical conditions didn’t happen to be the easiest task. He arrived to his destination with relief and knocked.

A beautiful (but nonetheless terrifying woman) opened the door. Her face contorted with displeasure.

“Sakaguchi-san, do come in.” She said.

He knew from experience that Yosano Akiko was a nice and cheerful person. Today, however, she looked ready to murder a puppy on the spot.

Ango looked around. What could have caused such a change in her personality?

That’s when a second strange detail came to his attention. All the other members seemed to be entirely focused on something. He followed their gaze.  

A young man with startling white hair was typing, not noticing anything around him while Dazai was rubbing his face against the boy’s cheek.

His friend was busy acting like a very content cat.

“Atsushi-kun, pay attention to me!”

A red haired boy, Tanizaki Junichirou if he remembered correctly, actually whimpered at this.

“Why are they like this? Why are they like this?”

His sister slowly rubbed his shoulder in a comforting manner. She, also, had a look of utmost disbelief. Still blind to the outside world, Atsushi blinked and looked at his mentor.

“Please, get back to work, Dazai-san.” He said, patience and a hint of tenderness obvious in his words.

“But work is boring. I want Atsushi-kun to spend time with me.”

The youngest underboss in the history of Port mafia, the most feared man after Ougai Mori the boss himself, the one seen as his most probable successor was whining.

How the mighty had fallen…  

At least, Ango could now say with say with absolute certainty what kind of relationship they shared. “Dazai didn’t tell me he was dating someone.” He whispered to himself.

Yosano glared at him. He felt a rush of primitive terror cross his spine.

“If only it was this simple.” She sighed.  

That’s how Ango became acquainted with The Situation.

He still hadn’t spoken to Nakajima.

Another night at Lupin’s. Outside, drizzle freshened the atmosphere as Yokohama’s citizens lazily walked among the street without a care in the world. 

This relative state of peacefulness filled him with satisfaction. It was for this kind of moment, this brief period between two battles, that he liked his job so much. 

The bartender brought him his drink. The same boring tomato juice as usual. Soft footsteps made themselves heard.

“Good evening, Dazai-kun.”

“I wasn’t expecting you to come back.”

“We said we’d try, didn’t we?”

“Indeed.”

A drink was put in front of the newcomer. It seemed the manager still remembered about them.

“So, what’s up?” Dazai said, his voice muffled by the glass. “Still doing your boring governmental job?”

“Why do you ask questions you already know the answer to?”

A deep chuckle. It could have almost sounded genuine.

“I came to the agency this afternoon.”

“I know. Is that all?”

“I’m afraid the rest is classified. And you?”

“Nothing, nothing. Just the same boring routine ~”

“Is that so?”

“Were you expecting me to say something else?”

“Of course not, it’s fine if you don’t want to talk about it with me.”

Dazai tilted his head. He didn’t seem to understand what he meant.

“I’m not sure I see what you’re aiming at.” He confirmed.

“About Nakajima-kun?” Ango continued.

“You already knew he was my subordinate, didn’t you?” He blinked. After a moment he kept talking. “What did you think we -”

Shock stopped him but it quickly morphed into mirth.

“Don’t tell you thought there was something more.”

“The idea did cross my mind.” He admitted. Chuckles escaped Dazai’s throat.

“He’s nice but I’d never think about dating him.” Dazai said.

Ango stared at his “friend”. Dazai had always been a secretive person. No one, even Mori, could totally decipher what he was thinking. Oda had been the only one able to. At least, to some extent. 

Yet, at this moment… Maybe it was a trick of the light… However, Ango would have sworn he had seen sorrow on his face.

“Da-”

“Ango.”

“Yes?”

“It’s none of your concern.”

Cinnamon eyes full of deadly promises. Ango knew better than going against his will when Dazai was like that.

“Let’s keep drinking.” He proposed.

“Very good idea !”

Kunikida had yet to come back from his many appointments. Exactly like the day before, he had spent the day outside, meeting with people Dazai didn’t even try to remember. 

A dozen of minutes before, Atsushi and he had received a phone call asking them to wait at the office. From what Dazai had gathered, they had to speak about a case from the highest importance. 

Well, everything was “from the highest importance” for this guy so Dazai couldn’t care less. He was on the sofa, staring at something or rather someone far more interesting.

Despite his relative efficiency, Atsushi still was one of the most hardworking member of the agency. He knew it. When drunk, Kunikida-kun often cried about how his prayers had finally been heard.

Finally someone who shares my ideals ! Maybe you should have tried to drown in a river sooner.

Dazai often protested at this affirmation. How could his partner - the one for who he’d do anything (as long as he had fun) - say this ? 

Sure, Atsushi did more paperworks, listened more, often helped Kunikida, didn’t do any caprices… Okay maybe he could see the other’s point. But still !

He quickly got his concentration back. Atsushi had adapted to the agency like a fish to water and unraveled his hidden potential. He had managed to hold his promise to Odasaku.

But, you can no longer see him as a way to fulfil his dying wish, can’t you? A saccharine voice whispered inside of him. Dazai looked at the younger man asleep against his shoulder. After a day doing nothing but writing reports, he had earned his rest.

Indigo was starting to appear above the horizon and Kunikida still wasn’t here. Haruno and Naomi had left a few minutes ago.

It’s going to be fun, Dazai thought, to annoy Kunikida-kun about how late he is.

Atsushi had started to snuggle against him. The honey light from the window associated to his sleepy expression made him look like an ethereal being. Light surrounded him like a golden halo. An angel among men.

Dazai took out his phone. It seemed he had found a new wallpaper.

As he clicked on his screen, the door of the office was violently opened. Atsushi jumped in surprise. Purple eyes watched the electronic device in front of his face.

“What are you-” He started but the soft and pleasant voice of a furious Kunikida interrupted him. 

“The traffic was infernal ! I don’t even want to know how I’m late I am. Stupid Dazai, you better not try to run away and come here right now.”

The boy blinked and tried to stand. Sleep still had a strong hold on his body and had him stumble like a newborn fawn.

On instinct, his hands shot up to catch his waist and brought him back on the sofa.

“Not too fast, I’m sure Kunikida-kun can wait for you to wake up, Atsushi-kun.”

The mumbled apology he got as an answer brought another smile to his face.

A few months ago, this moment of proximity would have been impossible. 

Atsushi wouldn’t let anyone touch him, be it to carry him away from danger or just to congratulate him after a job well done. He’d just jump away and look at the person as if they had just tried to strangle him. 

After the first time, Dazai had started to notice how his subordinate would almost dance in overcrowded streets in order not to touch anyone. How his hands would sometimes start to shake if someone was too close to him but how he had relaxed when Kyouka had jumped in his arms. 

How he craved for something but didn’t believe he could obtain it. As if the mere idea of someone showing him kindness and affection was unimaginable.

Really, seeing Atsushi evolves through months was fascinating. No one could have predicted how far he’d come. It made him curious. How different would he be in a few years?

I really want to find out the answer to this question.

“Are you alright, Dazai-san?” Atsushi cut his thoughts.

“I’m fine, I’m fine. Can you stand?”

“Yes. Thank you.”

“Perfect, then let’s go see why Kunikida is being even more uptight than usually.”

“Please don’t talk about him that way.”

“You know I’m right.”

“Absolutely not !”

“Really ?”

“Yes !”

“Seriously, when did my subordinate stop respecting me?”

As Atsushi was about to respond, his brows furrowed in an adorable manner, Kunikida interrupted them once again.

“I can hear both of you. Stop flirting this instant and come here.”

Kunikida could have thrown red paint all over Atsushi’s face and he still wouldn’t have been as crimson as he was right now.

“Kunikida-kun, you broke Atsushi-kun !”

A group of terrorist named Origine had recently arrived to Yokohama. They were already well-known for the destruction which always happened when they were somewhere. The government had requisitioned each task force they could put their hands on.

As Dazai was leaning over Atsushi, reading the file about their case which had been given to them, Kunikida dropped an information which would soon result in a few headaches for him.

“What do you mean Atsushi-kun and I won’t be working on this case together?”

No matter what some people liked to affirm, Dazai was a mature adult (often, most of the times, sometimes?... Whatever) so he definitely wasn’t whining.  

He was just expressing to an awful Kunikida his displeasure to what his partner had just said. Next to him, Atsushi, the traitor, was hiding his laughs with his hands.

“We need you for another assignment.”

“Didn’t you say I couldn’t be trusted when Atsushi isn’t with me?”

At least, it was the reason he always gave when he asked why all his missions were now done with the tiger. (Not that he complained)

“You’re not a child, you don’t need him to be your babysitter.”

“But what if-”

“Stop being a damn drama queen or I’ll kill you.”

“Please do, as long as it’s not painful of course ~”

Maybe he deserved the punch in the nose he got.

“What do you want me to do ?”

“The Port Mafia is going to get involved. They don’t really like having bombers on their territory. The director wants you to arrange communication between them and the agency.”

“So you’re saying it’s the mafia’s fault? How interesting.”

“Dazai, don’t do whatever you’re thinking about.”

“Don’t worry, Kunikida-kun ! I won’t do anything which will bother any human being ~”

Nakahara Chuuya showed up at the agency the next day. Thanks to him, they lost a very fine door which had never done anything wrong apart from meeting a very short-tempered redhead.

Tough luck.

“Where is this damn fucking mackerel?”

Atsushi, Kyouya and a few secretaries were the only one remaining in the agency. They didn’t really know how to deal with a small tornado.

Azure eyes watched all around them.

“Where is he?” He screamed.

“Dazai-san left an hour ago. Do you want me to pass him your message, Chuuya-san?”

“Are you willing to punch him in the throat?” Chuuya asked as he hugged Kyouka.

“Not really, no.”

“Then I’ll wait for him to come back.” He concluded as Kyouka started talking to him about her recent passion for drawing.

Atsushi sighed and stood up to make tea. Haruno and the other secretaries didn’t intervene, far too used to the presence of the mafioso.

A few moments later, the three of them sat in front of each other in the space reserved to clients.

“What has Dazai-san done this time?” Atsushi finally put an end to the silence.

He couldn’t remember how many times Chuuya and he had had this kind of conversation. Sometimes, he felt like he had given him his number only so he could complain about his former partner to someone.

Chuuya breathed deeply. It often meant he was going to talk a lot.

“Do you know how many times I have changed my security lock, kid? Thirteen times. Thirteen ! But no matter what I do, this damn shitty fucking son of a bitch keeps being an annoying fucktard (wow, five curse words in the same sentence, new record). I came back home at 9 pm, not having slept in three days, my only wish was a nice glass of wine. And do you know what I found out?”

Atsushi knew where it was going. He just hoped he was wrong.

“I found out that this fucking bastard emptied all my bottles and put vinegar inside them instead.”

Firstly : Atsushi was worried to notice he had reached a level where he could predict what Dazai did.

“So I decided my revenge would be terrible. When I’m done with him, he’ll be crying tears of blood.”

Secondly : How could two twenty-two years old be less mature than he was?

He felt Kyouka shake against him. Despite her blank expression, a glint in her blue eyes betrayed how amused she was by the situation.

He sighed. If he didn’t appease the mafioso, it would turn into an all-out war between the Double Black. No one wanted that. 

Last time, Kunikida had ended up with pink hair and Tanizaki with a fear of spiders he refused to explain.

Fun time.

“By the way, do you both want to have lunch with me?” Chuuya offered.

If Atsushi hadn’t been so eager to appease the other’s temper, he would have noticed the evil smirk which had spread all over Chuuya’s face.

They had gone to a place famous for their tofu based recipe. And also probably for their overpriced food. He’d never understand how someone could pay so much for a simple salad (three thousands yen? Why?). 

When he had started to protest, Chuuya had quickly explained he’d be the one to pay before giving his attention to his phone once again. He had been on it for a dozen minutes and couldn’t stop grinning. 

What was going on?

Mackerel guess what?

[picture sent]

Atsushi is really a nice kid, don’t you think?

Next time, I’ll burn your hats.

Maybe, I should invite him to go shopping with me?

Don’t corrupt Atsushi-kun with your poor tastes in clothes !!!! (ʘ言ʘ╬)

Do you think he’d look good with a choker ?

jhbh,nilkninnbbd

Enjoy your meeting ~

Say goodbye to your car, slug.

When Atsushi came back from his job, he found Kunikida yelling at Dazai once again.

“Good afternoon, how did the meeting go?”

“This idiot threw his phone against his face in front of the boss of the Port Mafia !”

“It wasn’t my fault !”

“You shouldn’t have been on your phone during work !”

Slimmy arms encircled his waist in a tender yet strong way.

“Atsushi, protect me from the evil guy !”

“Evil? Who are you calling-”

Before the two partners could start a new argument, Atsushi intervened. He took out papers from his desk and slowly started.

“We may have an idea about the place where the organisation is remaining for the moment.”

Kunikida’s business mode immediately activated. The red of anger gave his place to a focused frown.

“Some citizens working witnessed people going around an abandoned factory during the night a few days ago. They called the police but when they investigated they didn’t find anything. Also, the factory is far away from the port so it would be the perfect place in order not to be noticed by the mafia.”

“Maybe one of their member is able to cast illusions. It would explain why they saw nothing.” Dazai said.

“Well at least now we have a starting point. Good job, kid. You and Kyouka will go check on it tomorrow.” Kunikida added.

“Understood.”

As orange melted into purple, Atsushi walked home to the dormitory, Dazai and Kyouka in tow. When they had left the agency, the older man had spent a good deal of time inquiring about their meal with Chuuya. It would have been funny, had they not had this conversation a good dozen of times before.

“You mustn’t let yourself be manipulated. The chibi is an awful person. He’ll smile and all and before you know it - bam! - you’ll think his hats are fashionable.”

“They are not that bad.” Kyouka intervened. 

“They’re only a poor tentative to earn a few centimeters. An awful deviation really. No matter how hard he tries, he’ll always be smaller than most five years old.”

“You’re exaggerating now. I don’t understand why you like annoying him so much.”

“As if he doesn’t pay me back a hundredfold. I just don’t like how he’s always lurking around you. He must have some wicked ideas which can only be understood by dwarves like him.”

Kyouka sighed as the conversation proceeded. It was both depressing and entertaining to see how in denial they were. Atsushi wasn’t stupid, how could he not have noticed the green eyed monster which had invaded Dazai’s mind, she mused.

Far away from the center of Yokohama, where no infrastructure could be found miles around, stood a factory made entirely of red bricks. The main entrance had been torn open so it was easy to enter it. It usually was used by unimportant delinquents wannabe which went there to drink and smoke. All around stood barbed wires so full of holes it hardly prevented anyone to enter.

Behind it, a small spot full of weeds which hid the service door. That’s the one they would use to go in.

“Can you explain once again why you’re here, Dazai-san?” Atsushi repeated.

“I just wanted to make sure my kouhai were going to be fine. Since Ranpo-san isn’t available right now, he can’t tell us what we may encounter inside. Surely you can’t blame me for this.”

“It’s only an observation mission.” He retorted. 

“It could go wrong.”

“Since this type of mission is mainly based on stealth, you being with us is only going to complicate things.” Kyouka whispered with her usual calm tone.

“Et tu Kyouka-chan?” Dazai complained dramatically. 

Despite his mock hurt, it was obvious Dazai was having great fun. His usually dark eyes had taken the shade of melted chocolate.

“Shouldn’t you be at work?” Atsushi whispered as they entered the building.

“Kunikida-kun wanted to torture me so I left.”

“Is paperwork a form of torture?” Kyouka wondered with curiosity.

“Yes.” Dazai said at the time as Atsushi protested.

Their bickers continued until they had proceeded into the building. Atsushi activated his ability and felt his senses improve. The smell of rust, sulfur and humidity invaded his nose. He could hear the discrete steps of bugs and the sound of the wind as it went through the building.

“Have you found anything, Atsushi-kun?”

“Not yet.”

Kyouka opened the door of one of the office. Still no trace of any human being. It was as devoid of human presence as the moon. 

Yet, Atsushi couldn’t get rid of the feeling, he was missing something. He focused his whole attention on the room and finally asked.

“Don’t you think it smells of tobacco?”

After a moment, Dazai nodded.

“Probably teenagers who want to smoke without anyone noticing them.”

Before Dazai could offer an answer, a ruckus made itself heard. Startled, Atsushi bursted out of the room. “I’m going to check what it is. Please, stay here.”

Before Kyouka could offer to accompany him, he started running. His unease hadn’t improved. He still had the feeling he was missing something big. 

Inside him, he could perceive growls. The tiger was on a rampage, it kept pacing back and forth in his mind like a trapped beast. It knew something.  

Atsushi walked into the center of the factory. Just a huge rectangular space occupied by machines no longer functional. At the opposite side : a door. He went fastly toward it and opened it. It didn’t even protest, it had been perfectly oiled. Behind it, Atsushi found stairs which dived into the dark entrails of the factory.

Well, it’s a bit too late to run away.

Fortunately for him, despite his old age, the whole place hadn’t suffered too much from time. This, added to the tiger’s night vision allowed him to reach the bottom quite easily. 

The flavour of cheap cologne tingled his nose.

Someone was here.

“Who are you?” He said as loud as possible.

He didn’t expect any answer yet a rough voice answered :

“That is the last of your problem, detective.”

“What do you -”

That’s when he heard it.

A soft tick tocking noise as if death was slowly walking closer.

“You-”

“It’s a shame you’re just a kid but you are an enemy nonetheless. Our organisation won’t let you get away. Farewell.”

A shot in the dark. The man had killed himself. 

This explosive sound reignited Atsushi’s mind. For his life, he had no fear. His only worries were for Kyouka and Dazai.  

He ran.

You won’t be able to save them. It is useless. You can’t save anyone.

Shut up. Shut up. Shut up !

He barely was conscious of where he was going. When he reached the ground floor, two pairs of familiar eyes looked at him with worry. 

He’d never let them be dulled by death. Atsushi jumped forward. His body screamed in agony in reaction to the violent movement. He couldn’t care less. 

His hands - well, claws now - caught Kyouka and Dazai. He made sure not to touch the later’s skin.

The tickling got faster. Soon, death would strike. He ran and ran and ran.

 Then, they were outside. It wouldn’t be enough.

Tic

Tac

Tic

Tac

Tac

TAC

… .... …..

Silence. 

He focused his whole power in his arms and threw his charges away. As far away as humanly possible. 

Then fire overthrew the world. No more color. Just red.

Oxygen had left Dazai as he was violently moved. He breathed deeply. His chest hurt. Two eyes as beautiful as the sky at sunset were looking at him with panic. Tears had started to fall down his cheeks. He wanted to touch them. To make this person’s pain go away. 

When he suddenly understood what was going on, what Atsushi was about to do, frost paralyzed his heart. 

No. Not him too.

Why- Why can I never do anything when it really matters?

Light disappeared. Black overcame his vision, a disgusting, oppressive, inky black. Heat burnt his face. 

Dazai lost consciousness.

Sentience escaped him again and again. 

The man remembered opening his eyes and seeing faces above him. They whispered about important things, things he couldn’t understand.

The man opened his mouth. Dryness prevented him from forming words. A woman came close to him and poured a fresh liquid inside it. 

Time had no meaning in his state. Yet, he had seen a particular face, her eyes full of pain and sorrow, take his hand and say : “They don’t know when he’ll wake up. But you… you’ll be fine, right?” Then after a sob : “You have to be fine, *****-san.”

Life hurt, Dazai concluded after opening his eyes for a few seconds. Light was everywhere which didn’t help his already worsening headache. At this moment, if he had had the power, he would have canceled the sun. But, since he still was (despite what he and many people thought) a human at the end of the day, he settled for the second best option and threw his pillow over his eyes. 

His mind was fuzzy and his thoughts lacked their usual organisation. 

Judging by the overwhelming smell of antiseptic he was in an hospital. Great. What had he done to arrive here this time? Welp, he really didn’t have the time to laze around at the hospital so time to leave !

Atsushi-kun will be furious when he sees I left before being cleared. He couldn’t keep a small smile off his face as he thought about it. His legs were weak and couldn’t hold him well. How many days had he slept? 

In front of him, the door to his room opened and a beautiful young woman entered, her face contorted with worry. She blinked when she saw him awake.

“Thank god, at least one of you woke up.” She sighed with relief. 

“Good morning, Yosano-sensei ! How are you in this fine day?”

“Don’t try to distract me, Dazai. You better go back in your bed before I use you for shooting practise.”

This didn’t sound like a painless nor a clean death so he obeyed. Yosano nodded with approval and left him. She came back a few minutes after, her medical material in hand.

After a thoughtful examination, she finally said.

“Be careful with your ribs and you should be okay. It could have been so much worse, you were luckier than - well, no need to talk about it, focus on getting better. Kyouka should come see you when she finishes working.”

That’s when it all came back. Their mission, the explosion, and -

“Yosano-sensei, where is Atsushi-kun?”

She didn’t look surprised. She had expected this question to come but it didn’t make the answer any easier.

“He’s alive. Don’t worry. Focus on healing.”

“Alive doesn’t mean well. Where is he?”

“Try to sleep a bit and I’ll bring you to him.”

“I don’t -”

“It doesn’t matter. I’m your doctor, you’ll obey to me, understood?”

“Yes.”

Was he already making plans to escape his room? Of course not ~

Once the nurses had stopped sending him evil glares, Dazai went up and walked. He relaxed his shoulders and started whistling. One thing you learnt in the mafia was that people only paid attention to you if you seemed suspicious.

 No one would care about you if you had enough confidence in your moves.

He walked around, trying to find an hint which would tell him where Atsushi was. There still was the possibility for him to be at the agency but it didn’t seem probable. The factory was miles away from the agency. It would have been easier for the emergency department to bring them directly here. If Atsushi still hadn’t woken up, Yosano wouldn’t have taken the risk to shift him.

At the end, his steps led him to the reception. Women in uniforms were talking.

 In another conditions, he might have tried to flirt with them but he was definitely not in the mood right now. As he was about to keep exploring, muttered words made him stop.

“Can you believe it? He’s so young.” One of them started. 

“I can’t believe this so-called agency would employ a teenager.”

“He didn’t to seem to be such in a shape to me this morning. From what I’ve heard, this explosion should have killed him.”

“Hush. Don’t say this kind of thing. You’re going to jinx it, Kobayashi-chan.”

“Sorry, sorry.” A young nurse apologized.

So he had a name and a proof she had been in Atsushi’s room. Perfect. 

Finding the nurse’s planning didn’t turn out to be as complicated as one might expect. Just annoying. He had to wait for them to start their break but at the end he found what he wanted. 

He just had to check the rooms the woman had visited. 

Maybe he ended up disturbing a few old men and some children but no one needed to know. Room 505. It’s the last one.

Nothing was worse than an hospital room when you weren’t sure the patient was going to make it.

Dazai walked forward. The sun enlightened it and gave it a warm atmosphere.

 However, it was hard to forget this same comfortable place could morph into a tomb at any moment. Just a short instant would be enough… 

Atsushi’s expression was peaceful like a child napping. His legs were bandaged as if he had decided to imitate Dazai. His body was devoid of any syringe. It would have been useless anyway. The tiger’s healing prevented the use of any drugs. They would just slow down Atsushi’s recovery. 

Bangs of white hair fell in front of his closed eyes. Instinctively, he moved in order to push them aside but managed to stop himself. He couldn’t touch him.

 His ability had been the only thing  preventing him from joining Oda in the silent kingdom. Dazai couldn’t cancel it. 

An empty chuckle shook his body. How strange it was to see the liveliest person in his life turns into a stringless puppet.

“I hope you wake up soon, Atsushi-kun. Being here doesn’t suit you at all.”

A greyish smoke flew around the man as he carried his tobacco stick to his lips.

“A government employee smoking? That’s not very serious now, is it?” A voice lacking his usual happy go lucky tone asked.

“We are all entitled to our own vices.”

“I won’t argue with you on that.”

Ango turned around and looked at his friends. His hair had lost its shine and he looked like nothing but a poor copy of his usual self. Asking him how he was seemed like a poor question and he settled on another one instead.

“I take it Nakajima-kun still hasn’t woken up?”

A wild light appeared in his interlocutor’s eyes but it quickly faded under Dazai’s tiredness.

“He hasn’t. Yosano-sensei doesn’t understand why. Physically, he is fine. Well, as fine as you can be after something like that but still nothing.”

“He suffered a great shock.Give him time.”

“It’s already been two weeks.”

“Everything has its own rhythm.”

“That’s stupid.”

“That’s how it is. You’re just impatient, Dazai-kun.”

Dazai lazily ran a hand over his chin. It was rough to the touch. He couldn’t remember the last time he had shaved.

There was an organised way in his neglected appearance. As if he was trying to control his concern. It didn’t quite work but a stranger would have been unable to see it.

“Didn’t your partner order you to come back to work?” Ango asked.

He knew he shouldn’t have but even a clever mind didn’t always do the right thing. Instead of answering, Dazai extended his hand toward him. Without a thought, he handed over his cigarette packet and his lighter. The detective nodded in thanks.

“When the ER arrived and found us, they saw Kyouka-chan and me. One of them left their group and went to see if someone else was here.” A puff. “From what I’ve heard, it didn’t even look like something alive. The pain turned him into the tiger but it still wasn’t even enough. Only a calcined body remained. He screamed like a banshee when Atsushi took back his human form.”

“I’ve read the report.” A laugh.

“Words never really show the truth no matter how hard we try, do they?”

“They don’t.” Dazai agreed.

All the members of the agency came to visit. They often glanced at Dazai with worry as if he was going to cross the fine line between sanity and madness at any time. Only Kyouka and the president (and maybe Ranpo but if he did, he never showed it) seemed to understand him. 

His mind was as clear as crystal.

After all, the reasoning was quite simple. He wanted to make sure Atsushi was still alive and so he remained by his side. He would often go home to clean and sometimes eat and come back with books to read. He’d also bring his work so he didn’t totally fall behind. 

Those acts weren’t motivated by any reasons. It just seemed to him like the right thing to do.

Without noticing it, he had fallen into a terrible, disturbing routine.

“That was Flint’s treasure that we had come so far to seek and that cost already the lives seventeen men from Hispaniola. How many it had cost in the amassing, what blood and sorrow, what good ships scuttled on the deep, what brave men walking the plank blindfold, what shot of cannon, what shame and lies and cruelty, perhaps no man alive could tell.” Dazai read, his voice focused and controlled.

He noticed he had almost reached the end of the novel.

“I really hope you appreciate the sacrifice I’m making right now, Atsushi-kun. I haven’t opened The Complete Suicide Manual in days.It’s quite annoying, you know.”

Still no answer. That’s okay, he really wasn’t expecting one anyway. 

His back had started to hurt a few minutes ago. It was times to go back to the dormitory. 

He looked at Atsushi’s frozen stature. This lifeless image had almost replaced every memory of his happy subordinate.

Dazai stretched and started to walk away. A soft sigh interrupted him. He turned as quick as lightning toward the bed. It wasn’t the first time he had imagined Atsushi waking up. His traitorous imagination liked to torment him with this kind of fantasy. It was always easy to ignore them. 

As he opened the door once again, he heard someone moving around in the bed. The first signs of movement  in days !

Eyelids fluttered around like a butterfly’s wings when it was about to fly away. 

Creamy white gave its place to golden and purple.

“Atsushi-kun?”

“D-Dazai-san?” Atsushi croaked still not fully back in the living world.

At this moment, hope and despair, pain and pleasure, light and darkness merged together. He felt light. As if someone had pitied him and decided to take his twenty-two years old burden from him.

“And Kunikida-kun says I am lazy ! Do you know how long you slept?” He teased him. But his eyelids had once again closed. However, this time, his chest kept going up and down. He was merely asleep. 

There are some things you can only reflect upon when the initial emotion which created them fade. For Dazai, it was this moment. 

He felt the cruel dark thing curling up in his chest. It kept growling and muttering about how those people would pay, how he would make them bleed.

 An unknown force which refused to let him get away and who would stare at the boy as if he was the sun.

Something surprising he didn’t expect to feel one day. He had always known he felt something for the younger boy. A bit of indulgence on his part.

He didn’t mind those emotions as long as they didn’t disturb Atsushi.

But this was just -

Downright dangerous and possessive.

He couldn’t expose such a good person to it. The consequences would be terrifying.

And Dazai had never been brave. 

He left and didn’t look back.

It quickly escalated from here and for days the ADA barely was productive. 

They kept coming and leaving Atsushi’s room. The first week, when Atsushi took examination after examination, someone always accompanied him, be it Kyouka (most of the time), the Tanizakis, sometimes even Ranpo. Yosano spent all her times at the hospital as an official supervisor.

After it, when it was deemed reasonable for Atsushi to go home, Kunikida had to wrestle with him in order for him to have another week of rest.

“I can’t continue missing days.” He protested. 

“Yes, you can ! You’re not coming until you are at the top of your form.”

“The tiger healed me totally.”

This debate often ended with Kunikida catching Atsushi by the collar and bringing him back to his dorm.

“You didn’t go to see, Atsushi-san.” Naomi noticed one day.

Everyone was in the office as they caught up on their paperwork. The only absent one were Atsushi and Kyouka - who often followed the boy like his shadow more often than not those days.

“I had a lot of things to do.” He explained.

Ranpo snorted.

“Is that how you call it?”

Had he still been in the mafia, they’d never have found the sugar-addict’s body. 

Yosano hummed and looked at her friend. They conversed without a word and the woman snickered. Not in a cruel way but like a parent seeing their child do something stupid.

Tired of this, Dazai glanced at the papers in front of him and stood up. He had lost the narrow motivation he had and left the room, his headphones in his hand.

“Should I have stayed silent?” Naomi asked.

“Don’t worry, it’s not your fault.”

“City dwellers really ask themselves a lot of questions.” Kenji commented. 

“It doesn’t have anything to do with where he lives, he’s just an idiot.” Ranpo said.

“Please, get back to work.”

“You’re no fun, Kunikida.” Yosano complained.

Eventually, new wounds faded into scars and Atsushi came back. Well, as long as he promised to take it easy. The only remnant of his accident was a small mark under his right eye. Dazai wondered if there was a limit to his healing ability. Why hadn’t the tiger managed to cure this?

“Is everything alright, Dazai-san?”

He had stared at him too much.

“Shouldn’t I be the one to ask this?”

“Yosano-sensei told me you also got hurt.”

“Nothing too awful. I am as well as usual.”

“Good, then.” He answered. A strong disbelief could be read in his eyes.

The attention became too much in no time. He couldn’t stand it. 

Atsushi’s return couldn’t be described as a ‘bad’ thing but it also meant it’d be harder to avoid him. Before this, they had both talked quite a lot during breaks, they had gotten used to interacting regularly. To stop without any reason was bound to make him react.

“I forgot I had something to do.” He singsonged.

An hand on his shoulder. Dazai gulped.

“Try to run away and you’ll experiment true pain.” Kunikida whispered.

O ! His partner was stressed and furious, it would have been a wasted opportunity not to bother him. This was going to be fun. 

(Atsushi-kun, who?)

His nap was interrupted by a soft hand touching his back. Dazai blinked and looked at the person who had disturbed him.

“What’s wrong, Atsushi-kun?”

“Do you want to go explore libraries today?”

“I think I’ll have to pass.”

Silence overcame the room.  

When Atsushi had started to work at the agency, he had often gotten lost in Yokohama. The difference in size between the city and where he used to live had disturbed the young man. That’s why Dazai had endeavored to show him every interesting place he knew. Mainly shops and tourist attractions. Once he had become comfortable with his surroundings, they continued doing it as a tradition between the two of them. Sometimes, Kyouka would come with them.

 She had however quickly stopped.

They’d go to the museum Dazai liked or to librairies where Atsushi could find new books to devour, at least once a week.

In sickness or in health, Dazai had never said no. 

Not once. 

For him to change his habits so suddenly was as far away from normal as it could get. Atsushi knew it. The whole room knew it. Hell, even the slug and Akutagawa knew about it.

However, Atsushi, as sweet and kind and usual, smiled and didn’t ask.

“Then I’ll see you tomorrow. If I find something interesting I’ll bring it to you.”

“You don’t have to.”

“But I want to.”

For a moment, Dazai thought about forgetting his promise to himself. He had never been a saint, why start now?

But for once in his life, he wished more than anything not to mess things up with his subordinate, he’d resist and wouldn’t touch the apple in front of him.

Atsushi wished everyone a good evening, thanked them for their job and left. 

The ice in Dazai’s lungs had started to infest the rest of his body.

“Seriously, what is wrong with you?” Kunikida mumbled.

Now, that was a question Dazai also would have wanted to know the answer to.

Thus, the descent to hell continued. Dazai would no longer try to talk to Atsushi of work and if he did, his tone always carried the cold, unmoving tone you might use to converse with a stranger. Most of the times, he felt himself drift away. A machine which accomplished his tasks and then stopped working. Logics, not emotions, are the key to succeed in this world.

This endless, consuming void which had grown back in his chest. It felt like being in the Port Mafia once again. 

His steps led him to Lupin’s. He knew what was around him without fully understanding it. He sat and ordered their strongest drink. The old bartender stared at him but brought him a glass without saying a word.

“You shouldn’t be drinking this state.” Someone reproached him. “I’m drinking because I’m in this state, mom.”

Ango sighed and came next to him.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

“You already know what is going on. Kunikida-kun never stops sending you reports about everything.”

“Dazai-kun, don’t act stupid, you know it’s not the same.”

Sometimes, your body just couldn’t accept positivity and kindness. You wanted to hurt those who tried to help you. That’s how Dazai felt at this moment. His dark thoughts had begun growing like weeds once again.

“Listen, if you care about Nakajima-kun, it’s a good thing. You should try to - I don’t know? - develop your relationship. Odasaku-san would want you to -”

“Don’t you think it’s a bit immoral to talk about someone you killed?”

Horror bloomed on Ango’s face. He had managed to wound him. Good.

“You’re trying to keep me away. It won’t work. I’ve already told you : you’re my friend. I won’t give up on you.”

Positivity once again. Dazai couldn’t deal with this right now. He stood up.

“I want to be alone.” He merely said.

“Then I won’t bother you for the moment.” Ango replied. “But if you need anything, don’t hesitate to call me.”

Dazai forced himself to put his mask back.

He could resist. 

He walked and walked and walked. He didn’t know where to go nor what to do.

 A ghost among the living.

Sunset colors had overtaken the sky and almost no cloud covered them.

I’m tired.

Water stood in front him. He had reached Yokohama’s suburb. Or at least the bridge which led to it.

A soft odour of iodine flew in the air. Under him, the liquid kept shifting and moving calmly. A silent danse so fascinating to watch. Like Narcissus, he felt himself attracted to the river. It would be so easy to go over the edge and let gravity do his job. 

He climbed over it and kept moving forward.

Dazai fell.

He couldn’t hear anything. The river was as silent as his mind as he descended toward the bed of the waterway. Floating freely was nice. Coldness burnt his skin and he felt his lungs tense inside his chest. All his thoughts were leaking out of him, the positive, the negative, everything. The water was cleaning his being.  

The cold lips of death came closer and closer. He could feel her breath against his face. She was smiling and cradling him.

Well hello, Lady Death, I hope our acquaintance will last.

Death’s hold on him was growing stronger. It had caught his arms and pushed on them with strength. If his mind hadn’t so fuzzy, he would have noticed those were very human hands.

And suddenly air invaded his body again. He gasped with surprise. 

Deaf to his protests, someone drew him toward the riverbank and pushed him on the ground. Seconds later, heterochromatic eyes were upon him.

“Are you alright?” Atsushi almost screamed.

“Are you the one who interrupted me? Again?”

Strong arms encircled him.

“Thanks god you’re fine.” He mentally thanked Ango for his text. 

Shaky hand pushed apart the bangs which had fallen in front of his eyes.

“Do you - Do you want to talk about it?”

“I shouldn’t.” He whispered.

“Does it matter if you need to?”

Of course he had heard him. Damn his tiger senses.

“Don’t bother, Atsushi-kun. I just wanted to take an evening bath.”

Considering his doubtful expression, he probably didn’t believe him.

“You shouldn’t worry too much. I’m your superior, I’m the one supposed to worry about you.”

“Of course I worry. I really care about you, Dazai-san.”

It would have been so much easier if this boy didn’t offer his light without any hesitation.

“It’s not the first time I try to kill myself, Atsushi-kun. You should stop worrying so much every time.”

“I can’t do that. No matter how long and how many time I need to do it, I’ll always be here.”

“You’ll get tired eventually, you know. I’ve been told many times, it is quite painful to be my babysitter.”

“You really are stupid sometimes, Dazai-san.”

“How dare you ? I’m stil your superior.” He chuckled. 

“You don’t need someone to take care of you. You can do it by yourself but it doesn’t mean no one should try to help you from time to time, don’t you think?”

Atsushi was biting his lip. He was obviously trying not to add something, Dazai understood.

“And you’d like to be this person?”

“As long as you’ll have me.”

“You’ll regret it.”

“That’s something I should decide for myself. I personally don’t think I will. You’re a good person.”

“No I’m not.”

“You’re trying to be. Most people don’t bother with it. That’s a good starting point.”

“Has anyone ever told you you’re far too positive?”

“You can thank yourself for this.”

“You were already like this when we met.”

“I don’t think so.”

Laughter bubbled in his chest as he looked at Atsushi’s expression.

“Well, your obsession with chazuke isn’t my fault.”

Indignation erupted on his interlocutor’s face but it quickly melted away to reveal relief.

“Is something wrong?”

“You seem to feel better.”

Maybe he did, at least a little bit but that’s not all the younger man wanted to say.

“And?”

“It’s selfish of me to think about myself right now but I’m really glad we’re talking again. I was afraid I had done something to offend you.”

“It’s not your fault.”

“Then what happe - You don’t have to tell me anything, of course !”

Cold was shaking his whole body and his lips had taken an almost blue shade.

Maybe I can give him the truth.

Atsushi’s hand went back to his shoulder.

“You don’t have to force yourself. If you don’t want to tell me-”

“I do but it’s a bit complicated.” 

“O, I see.”

Dazai hummed. This wasn’t the perfect setting. They were both soaked to the bones and sat at the riverbank. If anyone could see them right now, they would think they were asylum escapee.

“Do you know what I did, Atsushi-kun, when I was in the mafia?”

“I can imagine it a bit.”

“I’ll never be a good person, I’m selfish and revengeful. Not the type of person you should associate with. I could hurt you and not regret it a bit.”

He expected protestations but Atsushi said instead :

“Pity yourself and life becomes an endless nightmare. Aren’t you the one who told me that?”

“Don’t use my own words against me.” He whined.

“Those are smart words.”

“Well, I sometimes have bright ideas.”

“It surprises me really. You’re able to see value in others but you’re totally unable to see it in yourself. Kyouka wouldn’t live in the light without you, the agency wouldn’t work as well -”

“I’m going to tell Ranpo.”

“Please don’t. We wouldn’t have won against the guilt and Dostoevsky and the Decay of Angels.”

“Are you trying to kill my modesty?”

A weak punch in the arm. Dazai chuckled.

“I would have probably died or ended up in the Guild’s hands. I’m glad I met you. And if you really think what you said, well, don’t worry, if you do anything stupid I’ll stop you. Or at least I’ll try as much as I can.”

“Is it a confession?” Dazai joked.

What was one supposed to do in this kind of situation? Doubt it? Smile about it? Panick? Maybe blush about it? (well, yes, Atsushi was adorable when he had this determined expression, but it really wasn’t the moment). 

He could only trust him and fear what this promise would lead to. Until now, Atsushi had always reached his goals. Even Akutagawa hadn’t resisted him and he was to stubborness what the slug was to bad tastes in clothes.

In reaction to his question, pink coloured the weretiger’s pale skin.

“Please don’t make fun of me.”

“I won’t, don’t worry !”

… …. …….

“Can I really not?”

“Dazai-san !”

People always had ulterior motives when they showed him this much support, Atsushi wasn’t this kind of person. First of all, you could see through his lies as if they were made of glasses. He had the nature of an earnest man. He wouldn’t pretend. Of that he was certain.

Despite those facts, he couldn’t help but probe the other. Was he hiding something from him? 

Under his glaze, the pink shade had deepened into scarlet.

“Why are you looking at me like that?”

“I’m only admiring you, Atsushi-kun!”

“Keep those compliments for the waitresses, Dazai-san.”

“You don’t want them?”

“Not when you’re only pretending so you can have fun.”

“I’m always serious when I flirt with someone as pretty as you.”

Atsushi looked ready to strangle him. Because of embarrassment or anger, he didn’t want to know.

“Please stop making fun of me.” Atsushi repeated.

“But it’s so funny !”

He could no longer see his eyes. They had fallen behind silver locks and didn’t look in his direction. This marked the moment he finally understood what had laid behind Atsushi’s words.

No lie had been in his previous words. He could hurt people and not even understand why.

“Atsushi-kun, I-”

“That’s okay. I didn’t expect it to be mutual if it bothers you-”

Two hands fell on his shoulders.

“Atsushi-kun, how smart do you think I am?”

“You’re the smartest but also dumbest person I know, why?”

“Because I’m going to prove you how stupid I am.” He inhaled. “I honestly hadn’t noticed how you felt for me.”

This time, surprise illuminated Atsushi.

“But I was terrible at hiding it.”

“And I terrible at noticing it, it seems.”

He wanted this. Dazai couldn’t deny it. Maybe for once, it would be okay to let go. An anchor had appeared, someone who would help him stay on the path he had promised to follow. Odasaku, am I taking the right decision?

“Now that we’ve established how utterly unintelligent I am (this remark earned him a warm laugh), let’s move to a decision we’ll probably regret. Are you okay with it?”

“Are you going to ask me something dangerous?”

“Not at all.”

“Then, yes.”

Slowly in order to allow Atsushi to leave, he lowered his head. Destroying the space between them was easy. He had wanted this for a long time. A soft feeling appeared on his lips.

Their kiss didn’t stand out from any other. Their faces barely touched. The contact was as soft and ephemeral as a butterfly but it held promises, something which would last.

Immediately after, Dazai withdrew. A sneeze escaped from him.

“I hoped it’d be a bit more romantic.”

“Let’s go back to your flat, you’re going to catch a cold at this rhythm.” Atsushi chuckled.

“So bold of you ! We haven’t even gone on our first date !”

New exasperated fond sigh. Atsushi stood up and offered his hand to the older man.

“Can you stand?” He asked.

Dazai nodded and caught his hand.

“Let’s go home, Atsushi-kun.”

Spring had come.

Kunikida Doppo considered himself a very patient man. Any other person would have tried to murder his lazy partner a long time ago. However, the recent events were too much, even for him.

“Atsushi-kun ! Pay attention to me !”

“Dazai ! Don’t distract him while he’s working.”

Always the same old song. Dazai pouted (How could this man be an adult?) and sat back. His brown eyes didn’t leave Atsushi and he kept staring at him while he was typing his reports. An expression so soft on his face Kunikida almost couldn’t look at him. How can the brat not notice his feelings? If this keeps going they’re going to drive us crazy!

One day, they both came to work, Dazai glued to Atsushi’s side. The brat was laughing at something the bandage-wasting device was saying. Kunikida screamed.

“How about we both tell them to go somewhere. They discover they’re both at the same place and decide to spend time together. Then, later they both understand it was a date and decide to go out together.” Yosano hiccuped as she emptied another glass.

“It sounds a bit too much like a cheesy romance novel, don’t you think?” Kunikida answered as he also took a sip of his. “We should threaten them into admitting their feelings !”

Their conversation had stopped being productive at their sixth drink. Ranpo stood next to them, a shit-eating grin on his face.

“How long do you think it’ll take those idiots to notice they’re already dating?”

Poe stuttered.

“I-I-”

His start of answer was cut short by Yosano throwing her arm around his neck.

“Why aren’t you drinking?” She asked.

“I don’t really like-”

The woman took out her chainsaw.

“I wouldn’t mind something to drink.” Poe stuttered.

“That’s what I thought.”

One day, Naomi got tired of this. She walked up to Atsushi, her brother asking her not to cause trouble behind her. Dazai had left a dozen minutes ago muttering something about “slug eradication”.

“Atsushi-san!”

The said person put his cup of green tea on the table and turned his head toward her.

“What’s wrong, Naomi-san?”

“Don’t you think Dazai-san is amazing?”

“I’m probably going to receive a message about how he’s annoying Chuuya-san but apart from that I agree with you. Why?”

“You should totally tell him then !”

“Naomi...”

As Atsushi was about to answer, his phone rang. He picked up.

“Hello, Chuuya-san, how are you?... What do you mean he tried to paint all your hats yellow?... I see... No I’m not laughing !... Please don’t throw him out of the window !...  Yes, I’m coming. I’m really sorry, Naomi-san, I need to go.”

Once her friend (prey) no longer was here, the young woman pouted.

“Why can’t they see they are made for each other?”

“Let them figure it out.” Her brother proposed. 

“But we could go on double date if they were together !”

“Is that your only reason?”

“What are you plotting today?” Kunikida finally asked with a grunt.

Dazai stopped humming and stared at his partner.

“Do you want me to be plotting?”

“I’d rather eat your cooking.”

“How did you want me to know you weren’t supposed to mix chocolate and beef?”

“Common sense?”

“Rude. Anyway, why were you asking?”

“You seem to be far too cheerful right now. It usually means something unpleasant is about to happen.”

No answer came apart from soft chuckles. “Do you really want to know?”

The anticipation wasn’t worth it.

“No.”

“Really?”

“No.”

“Kunikida-kun?”

“I said no.”

… …. …..

“Just tell me already.”

It was like talking to a child. A very hyperactive and manipulative one but a child nonetheless. A small part of him couldn’t stop thinking Dazai had acted this way so it could lead to this discussion. Considering his wide smile, Dazai probably saw what he was about to reveal would stress Kunikida.

“I have a date tonight !”

“I’m sorry what?”

Probabilities flooded his mind. Was he lying? Was it another one of his attempt to commit a double suicide? Had a woman agreed to die with him? He really hoped not.

“Is that a joke?”

“Of course not !”

“I’m not going to receive complaints about how you tried to drown with someone, right?”

“It will be a perfectly normal date.”

His definition of normal kinda scared him.

“We’ll eat together and spend time together in general. Actually, we’ll go on our first real date next weekend but we wanted to spend time together so we agreed on this.”

It sounded reasonable. A word he would have never thought to associate with Dazai.

But it brought another problem.

“Does the brat know?”

“Atsushi-kun? Of course ! Why wouldn’t he know?”

You told someone who likes you you were going on a date with someone else. How blind are you? That’s what I’d like to say but I can’t intervene. What do I do?

This question occupied his mind until they went back to the agency.

(Meanwhile, Dazai was just happy to think about his date with Atsushi. And if it stressed his partner a bit … well, it still was a nice bonus) (Though he didn’t understand why)

One day, you’ll understand how things can while still remaining the same…

Dazai had never been the kind of person to think about romantic relationship.

 He had Odasaku and Ango and that was enough for him. They were enough to fulfill his loneliness. If he wanted to find physical satisfaction - which was not as enough as others would expect - he’d just find a woman willing who would not ask too many questions. 

It hadn’t changed when he had left the Port Mafia. He just wasn’t interested by this sort of thing. There were times he had thought about it by sheer curiosity but never would he have imagined himself dating someone.

His feet curled around Atsushi’s and he felt him laugh against his side. Things could have been much worse.

It felt almost natural to be here, watching a movie with Atsushi.

“You’re not bored?” The young man asked.

He thought about it. Boredom hadn’t weighed his mind for some times.

“No.”

“That’s good then.”

Atsushi’s hand kept moving. A lost traveller which didn’t know where to go. As carefully as he could, he caught it. If he didn’t feel comfortable, he could take it away at any moment.

He did not.

“Yes. It’s good.”

“Atsushi-kun is not paying attention to me!” Dazai moke whined.

“I’m cooking, Dazai-san.”

“Giving up on your boyfriend for chazuke, I knew this day would come !”

“I- I”

“O, Is the “boyfriend” part getting to you?”

No answer was given to him, Atsushi’s focus only offered to the boiling water.

 Yet, there was a soft rose shade on the top of his ears. It would have been a shame not to darken it. 

“Don’t try to distract me.” He scowled me. 

“I’m merely stating we’re dating. It hardly counts as a distraction.” And if he almost purrs the last words well he would accept any blame. The other was on his way to become a traffic light, he couldn’t have missed this opportunity.

“You’re really cute !”

Being threatened by a wooden spoon wasn’t the most terrifying experience of his life. Atsushi’s reddened face, however, was probably one of the most adorable.

Now, how far could he push the little tiger?

Later, when it was times for Dazai to get back to his flat, they found themselves in front of the apartment.

“So… did you have fun?”

They were both alone. Nothing could be heard apart from distant car noises.

“I did, thank you, Dazai-san.”

“Despite the fact you had to make dinner?”

“I don’t mind.”

Dazai hummed.

“I’ll apologize with a proper date, then !”

“Please don’t overdo it.”

“But it’s my first date with Atsushi-kun, it needs to be memorable.”

“Nothing I say will change your mind, right?”

“Nope, you’ll just have to wait and see what kind of perfect idea I had for next week.”

“Alright.” Atsushi smiled.

Now would have been the perfect moment to get closer, Dazai thought. As he was about to follow this idea, a voice interrupted them.

“It’s too late for you two to be so lovey-dovey. Just stop.”

“Ranpo-san !”

A few days weeks later, a weird event shook their life. 

Atsushi had been doing his paperwork quietly. He had finally caught up on everything he had missed, something he was proud of. Maybe this productivity had to do with his neighbour’s absence. Toward 10 AM, Dazai had disappeared. What should have been another of his attempt to ditch work had turned out to be a full morning off.  

Maybe he just wanted to be alone. It happened. Days where everything around him was too much and he decided to isolate himself. But this morning, Dazai had been in a good mood. At least from Atsushi’s perspective.

Maybe he should send him a text to ask if he needed anything…

“Atsushi-kun.”

“What’s wrong, Yosano-sensei?”

“Come with me for a moment, I need your help.”

“Of course.”

In retrospective, Naomi’s determined stare and Ranpo’s snort should have been a clear indication that something was going to happen.

They walked out of the agency and toward the storage room. The place which contained every objects they might need such as paper and ink.

“I can’t seem to reach the higher shelf.”

“But you’re taller than-”

Before he could utter a single more word, he found himself being pushed inside without any warning. 

Clic

The door was closed. Atsushi shook the door wrist as strongly as he could.

“Yosano-sensei?”

No answer.

He was locked inside.

“So someone joins me in my imprisonment.”

Against the back wall sat Dazai.

“So that’s where you were. Are you alright?”

“I am perfectly fine, for once, Kunikida-kun won’t blame me for not working.”

“As if you care when he does.”

“I will not answer to this very obvious provocation.”

Atsushi sat down and felt himself be brought against Dazai’s side.

“You don’t mind?”

“No, it’s fine.” His head fell on Dazai’s shoulder. “Do know why they did this?”

“I warned you that every ability users was a bit messed up in the head.”

Yet, Atsushi rose a very valid question, why did they do this out of the blue? 

He thought about it for a moment. How each of the agency members had acted the last days. 

Oh, interesting ! The sadistic part of his mind immediately started thinking about how far he would have to go for them to understand how their relationship had evolved. Then, Atsushi took his hand and well it stopped there.

He had far more important things to take care of for the moment.

“Atsushi-kun.”

“What’s wrong?”

“I just noticed something.”

“What is it?”

“We’re both locked in a closet.”

Atsushi groaned at his bad joke.

“Do you think they will mind if I forcefully open it?”

“Kunikida-kun will.”

“You can’t pick the lock?”

“Do I look like the kind of person who can do this?”

“Dazai-san…”

“I started reading another book from Stevenson.”

He had done better in terms of change of subject but it did the trick nonetheless. Atsushi’s eyes started sparkling with curiosity.

“Which one was it?”

“The strange case of Dr Jekyll and Mr Hyde. It’s - interesting.”

Maybe “started” wasn’t exactly the right term. It was the second time he read it. He just liked understanding and exploring every aspect of something be it a novel or a painting.

Atsushi nodded, understanding what he meant.

“There are lots of different ways to interpret it.” He agreed.”And the themes developed in it are still of actuality so it’s a good book to read.”

“But you still prefer Treasure Island.” 

“But I still prefer Treasure Island.” Atsushi smiled. “I don’t think I’ll ever get tired of coming-of-age stories.”

“I’m not sure pirates really are one-legged and have parrots.” Dazai said.

When Atsushi spoke about novels and literature, a spark as bright as a firework in the night exploded in his eyes. A deep passion for life, a beacon in the dark. He wanted to protect it more than anything. 

That’s why when Atsushi started his whole presentation about how Stevenson had been a big influence for the adventure genre, Dazai smiled, put his arms around Atsushi’s waist and listened.

Someone eventually liberated them. As Dazai was about to speak to Atsushi about The catcher in the Rye, another novel the young man might enjoy, Fukuzawa opened the door.

As per usual, their president didn’t say anything. However, his tense shoulders showed his worry. “Freedom at last !” He chirped. 

“I have paperwork to finish.” Atsushi immediately added.

Fukuzawa shook his head.

“That won’t be necessary. You can just finish it tomorrow.”

“But-”

“Being locked inside must have unpleasant for you. Just go home and rest.” Fukuzawa almost ordered Atsushi.

He seemed to evaluate what their boss had said but finally accepted. 

When they went inside the office to get their belongings, they found a yelling Kunikida. “How could you do that? You’re supposed to be members of a well-respected organisation, not middle schoolers !”

If Naomi appeared remorseful, Yosano barely paid attention to it. Her eyes were set on Atsushi and Dazai. It was like being watched by a hawk.

“Tch, nothing changed.” She whispered.

Instead of getting back home, Dazai had brought Atsushi to the closest arcade.

 At this hour of the day, no one really occupied the place. It would still take a few hours for students to invade it. If Atsushi had been surprised by their destination, it had quickly yielded in front of curiosity. Apart from hearsays from the Tanizaki siblings, he had never set a foot inside it.

“Today, Atsushi-kun we’re going to discover the marvels of claw machine?”

“Aren’t those totally rigged?” At least that’s what he remembered Junichiro saying. 

“Nonsense, it is quite easy once you know how to do it.”

This said, he walked like a conqueror toward the machine he had spotted while wandering in Yokohama. Atsushi watched everything around him. Neon lights stood everywhere around them like exotic frogs. He wouldn’t have been able to say if he found all those machines original or just blinding.

“Ta-da!” Dazai proclaimed once they had reached their goal.

The other watched and immediately proceeded to groan.

“Dazai-san…”

“Is there a problem, Atsushi-kun?” He grinned happily. 

“Just, why?”

“It’s another Atsushi-kun ! We may need it !”

“Why would we need a giant tiger plushie?”

“That’s the question you’ll need to find an answer to once I have won it.”

Behind them, one of the employee - a woman in her early thirties - said to her colleague.

“It reminds of my first date with my husband. This idiot wanted to impress me.” She chuckled. 

“Did it work?”

“Not really. He ended up trying a dozen times and totally failed.”

“Is that so?” She giggled.

Oblivious to the two women (or at least as much as he could be with mafia induced paranoia) Dazai focused on what was before him.

“Now, behold my great mastery of this machine !”

“Have you ever come in this kind of place?”

“A few times. But it was infested with slugs so I didn’t stay long.”

His hands ran over the two buttons. As he finally caught what he wanted, he saw his prize go toward the exit only to fall down.

“It won’t resist me for long.”

“Please, don’t waste your money on this.”

“Next time will be the right one.”

Spoiler alert : It was not.

Later, when they went out, a far too big plushie in his arms, Dazai was pouting in mock deception.

“I will pierce this machine’s secrets.” He promised. 

“You really shouldn’t have wasted this much on it.”

“It was a question of personal pride. I won’t be bested by a thingummy of glass and iron.”

Atsushi tried to resist. He really did. But there was a limit to how long he could hold back when Dazai bore this expression full of disappointment and promised revenge.

The terrorist organisation had laid low since the explosion. A good part of their effort went to finding them but considering no trace of them was found well… maybe the mafia had already taken care of them. 

That’s what each of them hoped at least.

They didn’t worry about being able to defeat them. As far as they were concerned they could take care of it. Few organisations could resist the agency. No, the real problem was the anticipation. Nothing had been found on Origine, they had disappeared like snow at the end of winter and without any clue, even Ranpo’s genius couldn’t help.

However, one day, something confirmed their worries. A policeman had recently been found dead. When Ranpo came back from his investigation - an almost gleeful smile on his face - and said :

“I know where they are.”

Both Kunikida and Yosano rose immediately.

“Thank you.” The man congratulated him. “As usual, we can count on you, Ranpo-san.”

“Perfect, I’ve wanted to have a conversation with them for quite a long time.”

Her taking a cleaver out of her bag didn’t leave any doubt about the nature of the “conversation”. “Do we have the time to plannify our attack or will they leave their hideout before?” Fukuzawa asked. Ranpo took a while to answer.

“We have two days but we should hurry.” He concluded. “You really don’t want them to carry out what they are preparing.”

Daikoku Futo was one of the most well known artificial island of Tokyo Bay. It served as the link between the main cities of eastern Japan since the seventies thanks to the creation of the Bayshore Route. 

You could - if you knew how to - go under it which would lead you to the room where the foundations had been built. An area of an hundred square meters totally devoid of any civilian. 

The perfect place if you didn’t want to be found. 

From rumors, they had learnt a few members were powerful ability users. It made Dazai’s presence vital even if he wouldn’t fight on the frontline.

They warned Ango about it and once everything was set, they went. Going down without being noticed wasn’t an easy task yet Atsushi noticed each member had a sort of grim resolve in them. Kyouka stood next to him, her eyes attached to him like a dragon to their gold. “Stay close.” She almost ordered.

Yosano was with them. The three of them would lead the attack. Tanizaki and Kenji would serve as backup if needed. The rest would block any other issue to prevent them from escaping. 

As they waited for Kunikida’s signal, Atsushi saw Yosano sharpen her cleaver with the most terrifying smile he had ever seen on her. 

Seriously, what was wrong? “Are you sure everything is alright?” He asked. 

“It will, once those bastards have paid for what they did.” She grinned.

“Did you know the policeman?”

An almost sad smile answered him.

“You have no idea, don’t you, kid?”

“No, he doesn’t.” Kyouka nodded.

As he was about to ask what they meant, Yosano’s phone vibrated. “Better go back to work.” She sighed.

Everything had been fine. They had been as quick and deadly as a snake. As people said, those who angered the Armed Detective Agency never stood a chance. 

All of them had received the correction of a lifetime and would have a lovely chat with the military. 

Atsushi looked around him. Tanks all around full of products he couldn’t identify, wires and what should have been supports for the bombs. Tanizaki had found a map of Yokohama with red crosses all over it. The location they had wanted to destroy.

Half of the city would have been razed. It would have led to millions of death.

“Well, good work everyone !” Dazai cheered. 

“Were they also looking for the Book?” Atsushi wondered.

“Not really. From what their file says a conflict erupted between them and the Port Mafia. They wanted to take revenge and apart from his subordinates, this city is the only thing Mori-san really cares about.”

“No matter their reasons, it still concerned every gifted organisation. We couldn’t let them do what they wanted.” Kunikida added. 

“Kunikida-kun looks so virile when he says this kind of-”

A punch in the face kindly ordered him to fuck off.

“Anyway, the military should arrive soon, try not to - Dazai, behind you !”

One of the man stood up. It was one the ability user who had fought against Dazai. His power allowed him to control sound waves. The corner of his face had taken a plum color which increased his almost insane look.

“I won’t let you win. Don’t think about it for a moment.” He spat.

A bandaged hand came near his face but not fastly enough. The man  activated his ability and threw his palm toward the closest pillar.

A moment of silence.

The kind your heard before an Armageddon.

“Dazai, get away from him !”

Crac

The whole zone seemed to split like dead wood.

Atsushi jumped forward. A stillborn scream clawed at his throat. Like in a slow-motion movie, he saw the rock start his deadly fall toward Dazai. No

No No

The pillar continued collapsing and with it a part of the ceiling. If it reached Dazai, nothing would be able to save him this time. 

In the back of his mind, he could hear the sinister laugh of the Origine’s member.

I can’t just look at this. He felt rather than understood his body shift. His tendons and muscles hardened and in the blink of an eye he was on him.

In opposition to the last time, Dazai awoke quite quickly. His whole body hurt but his mind was as clear as water which was great. Concussions were a nightmare. 

“Don’t move.” Someone ordered.

He was a middle aged nurse who was busy writing on his notepad.

“We’re getting you ready for an operation. You should go back to sleep.”

“Is Atsushi-kun alright?”

“Just rest, you have a broken arm, sir. Don’t worsen it by moving around too much.”

The man took out his phone and texted.

“The anaesthetist should be here soon.”

“Is that necessary?” He said as pleasantly as he could muster.

“I’m afraid so, sir. Your radial bone was broken in three parts. It won’t heal by itself.” Then after a thought he added. “Yosano-sensei asked the best doctors of the hospital to take care of you. You can trust us.”

If only it was so easy.

God, he hated hospitals.

“Brat, would you keep calm?” A very tired Kunikida said. Making sure all the Origine members were recaptured had been a trial. He no longer had any glasses, those had been broken during the collapse and a blue mark had been painted under his eye. Next to him the rest of the agency was sitting, waiting to know if their friend was fine.

“Atsushi-kun, I’m sure Dazai-san is alright.”

Kunikida nodded : “For a suicidal maniac, he has the strongest vitality I have ever seen. He’ll be fine.”

Dazai’s operation had just ended. From what the nurses had said, it should be no big deal but there was still a very low risk he’d lose his arm. This hadn’t calmed Atsushi’s already very strong distress. 

When they were still at the organisation’s base, the tiger’s body had protected Dazai from most of the danger. Only his arm had been almost crushed. If the tiger hadn’t reacted so quickly no part of his member could have been saved.

I’ll never be able to hate you ever again, he thanked the entity inside of him.

A soft roar echoed in his mind and the feeling of fur brushing against him grew on his skin. It made him feel a bit better.

“Excuse me, are you “Atsushi-kun”?” A man asked. It was the nurse who had taken care of Dazai earlier.

“Yes, Nakajima Atsushi. Can I help you?”

“Are you part of his family? He has been asking about you.”

“I don’t think he has one or if he has, he never speaks about them.”

“So what’s your relationship? He wants to see you but the protocol only allows those who are close relatives.”

“We’ve been dating for almost two months now. Would it still work?”

A strangled noise made itself heard, it was followed by a “Excuse me, what?”.

“I think it should. Follow me please.”

“Thank you very much.”

“What the hell?” Yosano screamed, ignoring the employees asking her to remain silent. “How could we not notice? HOW COULD WE NOT NOTICE?”

Then after a moment she turned toward Ranpo.

“You knew it.”

“Well, yeah they weren’t really hiding it.” 

“Now that I think about it, Dazai-san was always stuck to Atsushi-san.” Naomi said. 

“He was already like that before they started dating though.” Yosano retorted. 

“And he kept inviting Atsushi to have lunch with him.”

“Stupid Dazai already did it in order to skip work.” Kunikida intervened. 

“And he’s always praising how hard Atsushi-san works and how cute he always looks.” The young woman concluded. 

A beautiful moment of silence took its place among them. 

“Their behaviour didn’t change.” Yosano sighed.

“They were already acting like a couple well before they started dating.” Naomi said, awestruck.

“I’m really happy for them.” Junichirou muttered.

“At least it won’t give me more paperwork.” (this one was obvious)

“This whole discussion made me hungry. Now that we know Dazai is alright, can we go buy sweets?”

“I’m still furious at you for not telling us.” Yosano commented. 

“But I’m not the only one who knew. Kyouka-chan also did.”

“What?”

“I saw them kissing on the sofa.” She declared bluntly.

“Interesting.” The doctor purred. “What else have they done?”

“Yosano-sensei !”

“Are you awake?” Atsushi whispered. The body in front shifted under the blanket and messy chocolate hair escaped from under it. 

“I hate hospitals.” He groaned, his voice raspy from sleep.

“Do you want me to bring you anything?”

“Just stay here.”

“Alright, I will.”

He took the chair the next to the bed and sat. Dazai’s healthy hand immediately found his as if controlled by sheer instinct.

“I just had an idea to feel better.”

“No, Dazai-san, I’m not going to kiss you while you’re injured.”

“You could just come closer, it won’t be a problem if you don’t touch my arm.”

It would have sounded smooth had he not still been under the effect of the anesthesia.

“It’s not reasonable. You need to heal quickly.” That’s what his reason wanted him to say. However, the image of Dazai imminent death kept haunting his conscience. He needed to feel he was still alive. “If it hurt at any moment, you will tell me, right?” He asked. 

“Of course !” Dazai approved as he moved over to give him place.

He didn’t really believe him but he could only hope the tiger’s senses would tell him if it was becoming too much.

Finding a comfortable position turned into a wrestling match. At the end, they stood face to face, their legs tangled together. Atsushi rose his hand and moved aside the few strands which disturbed Dazai’s sight.

“Thank you for being alive.” Atsushi whispered. 

“It’s thank to you.” The man answered as he softly went back to sleep.

Soft lips fell on his forehead. “Good night, Dazai-san.”

Inside a graveyard stood a man. His eyes set on the stone in front of him. “You don’t have to worry anymore, Odasaku-san. He is in good hands.”

Author’s note :  So that’s the end? I really hope it corresponds to what you wanted. It ended up being far longer than what I thought it would be. 

I’m sorry if it’s boring or clumsily written.  PS : The novel  Dazai is reading to Atsushi is Treasure Island from Robert Louis Stevenson. RL!Nakajima Atsushi was said to be a fan of his work so I thought it’d be a nice detail to include.  

Have a nice day or evening. 

[bungostraythoughts]

Soukoku fic: The Underneath you share (with me)

Pairing:Dazai Osamu/Nakahara Chuuya  Tags: Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort Summary: Dazai can be a bit much at times, and it's a good thing Chuuya has maturity and grace enough in him now to see them through it.  Read it on Ao3.                                                                                

                                                       -----

...Chuuya was no stranger to lashing out when he simply couldn’t hold every black feeling he had inside of himself anymore. He sighed and ran a hand through his hair, leaning over the table to push Dazai upright and backwards into a seated position. He stared at the tired, empty looking man before him.

“I won’t play games with you tonight, Dazai, I get enough of that from fucking Mori.”

Dazai’s eyes flashed darkly. “Don’t compare me to him.”

Read more below or on Ao3.

Chuuya returned home late that night after a draining, fruitless stakeout job, much nearer to dawn than dusk. He opened and shut the door with exaggerated slowness, so as not to disturb the silence of the apartment. As he crept over the threshold to hang his coat and hat on the rack, however, his eyes tracked an angle of light coming from the kitchen.

So, Dazai was still awake. He touched the long tan coat, now hanging beside his and felt that the lining was still warm. Dazai had come home recently then. Somewhat atypical for him, as the ADA didn’t usually keep the same ungodly hours for its staff which the mafia thrived upon.

He called out a tired, “I’m home,” and went about unpacking a bit less discreetly, walking into the kitchen to find Dazai’s lanky form seated and hunched over, head pressed face down into the table, with one finger swirling idly through a half-empty glass of whisky.

Shit.

Chuuya didn’t make executive for the mafia without a keen sense of impending fucking doom, and so he went directly to the wine cabinet and drew up a bottle of merlot, uncorking it between his teeth with practiced ease and only a little desperation. Dazai made no motion to acknowledge his presence.

Shit. This was really not, entirely, what Chuuya needed right now. He approached the counter across from Dazai with a veil of indifference that he hoped conveyed just the slightest hint of concern. Dazai’s mind spun wildly at times, and Chuuya would rather not be caught in any chaos with what was left of his very, very long day.

“Bad day, Dazai?”

Dazai shrugged. “Always.”

Ah, so very bad then. Chuuya placed the Merlot on the counter to let it breathe. “So what happened?”

“Nothing you can solve, little lab rat.” Dazai shifted his head to face him, left cheek still pressed against the table, and his eyes gleamed with a wickedness Chuuya hadn’t seen in a long while.

“Tch-” He drew a sharp breath to steady himself, and then Dazai smiled cruelly, like he had just won something. And that...

That stung. It hurt so much that Dazai would still do this, still press on his past traumas after all this time like it meant fucking nothing,that Chuuya almost took the bait and tore his ugly fucking bandaged throat out. But...

As he breathed, and looked… and breathed, he found that he could see the edges of pain around the wickedness. He could mark the tightness in Dazai’s gaze.

Chuuya was no stranger to lashing out when he simply couldn’t hold every black feeling he had inside of himself anymore. He sighed and ran a hand through his hair, leaning over the counter to push Dazai upright and backwards into a seated position. He stared at the tired, empty looking man before him.

“I won’t play games with you tonight, Dazai, I get enough of that from fucking Mori.”

Dazai’s eyes flashed darkly. “Don’t compare me to him.”

“Then don’t act like him, Osamu.” Chuuya sighed. Silence stretched out between them like a wide river until something almost imperceptible shifted in Dazai, which for Chuuya looked a hell of a lot like defeat.

Dazai’s eyes bled from cruel to vacant. Empty.

“Touché, partner.” He raised his glass in a small salute before draining it.

“I’m not your partner, shitty Dazai.” Chuuya cursed. Present crisis avoided, the mafia turned his back on Dazai and walked over to the cabinets, pulling and setting out a glass and pouring himself of the wine he had opened earlier.

Dazai pushed his empty whisky tumbler towards Chuuya’s hands feebly, and his eyes spoke dangerous secrets like please, and I’m sorry.

Chuuya pinched the bridge of his nose, sighed, and poured him a quarter glass of whiskey. He really should’ve thanked Kouyou more extravagantly for that emotion management development coursework she forced him to sit through. If he was going to attempt something that even smelled like a relationship with Dazai…

…Maybe he could send her an edible arrangement. Or something.

“So, what happened?”

“Simply, mon petit mafia, the Agency’s mission failed. We were trying to bust a trafficking ring, and I had collected intel that they would…” Dazai sighed, sipping at the liquor Chuuya had given him. “I acquired bad intel… they were supposed to move the girls out tonight, from the stationary warehouse on Hualien street, however, upon arrival, we were greeted by a team of guerrilla fighters instead.”

Dazai sighed. “They had moved the girls to a third location last night and so, because of me, our opportune moment passed us by~” Dazai whined, staring into his glass, voice growing quiet… 

“Odasaku wouldn’t have…”

Nope. Not this shit again. Chuuya could tolerate a lot of Dazai’s strange ruminations, but he drew the line at listening to all the things the mackerel imagined Oda ‘perfect human’ Sakunosuke would do, say, or think about whatever was going on in the present. All those paths only lead Dazai closer to another suicide attempt.

“Shut up, mackerel.” Chuuya deadpanned.

“What~??” Dazai whined. “But Chibi asked me to tell him about my day~”

“Yea, that was back when I thought you had something fucking relevant to say. A shit job is a shit job, don’t sit here and act like you don’t already have 347 contingencies to find whoever you missed today in place, eh?”

Dazai blinked, looking away.

“Eh?!” Chuuya stared at his lover full on, trying to convey both inhuman annoyance and unwavering faith in the lanky asshole’s ability.

Something shifted in the taller man’s face too quickly for Chuuya to catch. Dazai drained his glass and lowered it to the counter.

“Will Chibi take a shower with me, then?”

“Fuck- Dazai, it’s like 3am…”

“But quite frankly, Chuuya smells weird is what I’m saying.” And just like that Dazai was back to his typical façade of bullshit.

He’d have to send Kouyou a gift card for a massage with the arrangement. Maybe one for himself as well.

“Come here, idiot.” Chuuya said as he hauled Dazai’s lanky ass off the bar stool.

                                                       - / - / -

Chuuya let the water heat up while he stripped Dazai of his bandages and his idiotic pretenses, scars all laid bare. If the pasty mackerel thought he was getting away with what he said earlier he had another thing fucking coming.

“It’s cold~” Dazai whined, nose burying into the shorter man’s neck. “My second bad idea of this evening~!” Chuuya sighed and rubbed his hands over Dazai’s arms, tracing over the raised flesh of scars and goosebumps.

Chuuya could touch Dazai for hours, every inch was a story.

“Chuuyaaaaaaaa~~~~!”

“Oh my god, quit whining. Go stand in the water then and give me a hot fucking second to take my pants off.” Dazai pouted childishly but did as told, harrumphing himself behind the curtain.

Chuuya took a second to breathe, untying his hair and picking up all Dazai’s shit. Bandages could go in the trash, if the wayward genius wanted to recycle he could clean up after himself.

                                                                                                                                      - / - / -

Washing the grit, sweat, and guilt off Dazai in the shower was easy. Kissing Dazai in the shower was easy. Bringing him out of his head was another matter entirely.

That only happened when Dazai sighed, shifted and hooked his legs around Chuuya’s waist, letting the stronger man press him into the wall, and then press into him as the water fell around them like so much rain.

                                                        - / - / -

Chuuya busied himself with rolling out their shared futon and bedcovers while Dazai hung awkwardly by the wardrobe. A quick glance found that his eyes had already begun to darken again.

That wouldn’t do.

“Do you want me to do some deep pressure with Tainted to help you relax?”

Chuuya had discovered a while back after reading something on the internet, that the experience of slight pressure can calm a wandering mind. It had become a bit of a thing between them since.

“If Chibi wouldn’t mind that, ah… might be helpful.” Dazai hid his face away as he spoke, redressing himself in a sweater and lounge pants.

“Lie down then, moron.”

Dazai launched himself under the bedcovers, sliding right into the center of the space. Chuuya pulled himself into a pair of boxers and one of Dazai’s sweaters, which dangled awkwardly on him in a way Chuuya fully knew Dazai internally drooled over.

“Idiot, are you fully covered?” Chuuya crawled onto the futon, hovering over Dazai, tucked beneath the covers.

“Yes.”

“You’re wearing socks, too?”

“Yes, Chibi.”

“Okay, hands out on top, don’t touch the blanket.”

“Obviously, hat rack.” Chuuya activated tainted and pressed unnatural gravity into the bedcovers, perhaps a bit harshly.

“Ah~! Too much!!! Chuuya is mean~!!” Dazai whined. The child.

“Don’t call me names then.”

“Chuuya started it.” He eased the pressure to about 45 killograms and spread it through the blanket. Dazai sighed, his eyes unfocusing. Dazai didn’t like pain, but they had discovered that gentle pressure was a comfort.

Chuuya settled himself down beside Dazai, curling around near his body, but staying above the covers and keeping his skin and hair apart from Dazai’s. He listened to the taller man’s breathing even and shallow out.

Chuuya was once again surprised at how versatile his gift was, and using it to help Dazai in this way was soothing for him as well, another small reminder that not everything had to be destructive, Mori be damned.

Dazai sighed. “Kiss me, Chibi.”

“You’ll screw up your therapy.” Chuuya griped.

Dazai turned and brushed his fingers through Chuuya’s hair and his ability fell away from him.

Their lips met, and Chuuya shifted to straddle Dazai once again, placing his hands on his lover’s chest and using his strength and the weight of his body to press him into the tatami. He would not let Dazai’s mind spiral for a second. Not tonight. Chuuya tracked the man beneath him carefully, relaxing his grip when he saw the barest hint of a wince in the corner of Dazai’s eyes, and strengthening it whenever he heard a whine of loss.

Showers. Sex. Kisses. Pressure.

Such simple comforts really shouldn’t bring someone with Dazai’s laundry list of mental health concerns this much relief and yet, he thought; a man dying of thirst would be glad for even a drop of water.

Maybe it was the same.

So he settled himself over Dazai, and let the man play with his hair, basking in the simple sensation and the warmth left over from their shower. After a while Dazai’s hands slowed, and then stilled. Just when he thought the mackerel had finally fallen asleep, he heard a low whisper.

“Thank you.”

Chuuya smiled stupidly into the covers.

[3rdgymbros]

oh, you can be your own god if you want to | aya & odasaku | bungou stray dogs

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When she lies like this, in the quiet and the silence, with only the breath filling her lungs and her heartbeat thrumming under her skin, her mind wanders to her early years, to a featureless man she thinks of at the oddest moments. Her father? Why can’t she remember him clearly?

If she’s being honest with herself, she holds no love for her parents. Osamu Dazai and Nakahara Chuuya. Their names mean little to her, their faces even more so. A faded picture, black-and-white comes to mind, whenever she thinks about them. Taken in a bar, with her parents and Odasaku solemnly raising their glasses in a toast for the photographer. She supposes that they have pleasant enough looking faces, but she doesn’t feel connected to them. Not on a personal level.

Odasaku – no, Dad, he’s been her Dad all her life, and his face is the first that comes to mind when she thinks of family, of home, of the person who loves her the most – always tells her that they’d loved her and would have wanted to keep her, but Aya finds that hard to believe.

If they’d loved her, how could they have left her so easily?

The sheets rustle. Aya’s eyes fly open. Beside her, Sakura inhales and exhales. The beside clock ticks the seconds away, now stretching into minutes.

The empty silence descends and fills the space.

Odasaku finds her in the morning doing laundry. It’s a job that Aya enjoys doing – the simple, if time-consuming task keeps her hands and mind busy as she washes, dries, creases and presses them to perfection. One stack is done; with a heavy sigh, Aya floats them to her room. She hears a shout from Kosuke – something about how she’s cheating at her chores. Aya tells him to shut up the hell up, which earns her a light smack on the wrist from Odasaku and a disapproving glare, the closest thing to a scolding that she’ll ever receive from him.

“How are you feeling?” Odasaku says, grabbing a couple of sheets from the dryer and wrestling them into folds.

The daily check-in is something that Aya appreciates; she has fourteen other siblings, but he still manages to make time for her, to make her feel like she’s special and treasured.

Her smile is as bright as the beam of a flashlight. “I’m okay!”

“Abilities okay? Not giving you any trouble?”

“They’re fine.” Aya nods.

She’s had the mysterious ability for as long as she can remember. Odasaku had discovered that she’d had a strange and startling ability – she could manipulate gravity. At first, Aya had thought that she could move things with her mind, but Odasaku had told her gently, it was gravity she was manipulating. Sakura is fond of telling her the story – how Aya had held out a chubby hand, and a toy had floated up from the floor and into her fist, how her fingers had glowed an eerie red. Since then, Aya had quietly worked on developing the skill, as a fun game with her siblings at first, and then more seriously, at Odasaku’s direction.

“Remember not to use them outside.” Odasaku warns, filling the dryer again.

“Yes, Dad.” Aya floats a stack of finished laundry out the door.

The screaming starts up, louder this time, but Aya doesn’t tell Kosuke to shut up.

In her dream, Aya knows that she is falling, though there is no up or down, no walls or sides or ceilings, just the sensation of cold, and darkness everywhere. An inhuman growl rumbles, glowing eyes or fire and black smoke rising from the murky blackness. She’s so scared that she could scream, but when she opens her mouth, nothing happens, and Aya wonders wildly if she falls forever and ever without ever touching down, is it really still falling?

Aya thinks she will fall forever.

A noise punctuates the silence, a thin bleating growing louder and louder until it is like a scythe of metal slicing the air, slicing into her –

Then Aya wakes up.

Her alarm has been blaring for twenty minutes. It’s six fifty A.M.

Aya sits up in bed. Her comforter and pillows are glowing bright red, floating a foot above the bed. She’s covered with sweat even though her room is cold. Her throat is dry and she’s desperate for water, like she’s just been running a marathon.

For a second, when Aya looks around the room, everything seems fuzzy and slightly distorted, like she’s not really looking at her room, but only at a transparency of a room that’s been laid down incorrectly so the corners don’t match up with the real thing. Then the light shifts and everything looks normal again.

All at once it comes back to her, and blood starts pounding in her head: the dream, the growling, the eyes –

“Just a dream,” Aya mutters, putting her feet on the ground. She tries to tell herself that she’s okay, that she’s fine, that nothing’s going to happen. The feel of the cold, polished wood beneath her toes reassures her. Just a little. “I’m being stupid.”

That inhuman growl sounds again, right in her ear. Aya has to glance around the room to make sure that something won’t jump out at her from the shadows.

She tries to ignore the dread causing her stomach to clench in on itself, the feeling that her body isn’t her own anymore.

She sees it again.

It’s an enormous creature, flanks rippling with muscle, about the size of a small horse. Its paws are more like a feline’s than a dog’s, with claws over an inch long, sharp and deadly. Its fur is pitch black, with a thick, bristly mane that runs along the ridge of its spine down to a bushy tail. Eyes of flickering flames gleam brightly out of the darkness, and from its throat come a long string of undulated growls.

“What are you?” Aya asks, finding her voice and staring at it with all the challenge that she can muster.

She will not be afraid.

She will not be afraid.

She will not . . .

All she gets in response is a snarl.

“I can’t understand you.”

That’s what she remembers just before the mouth of the beast yawns wide open and swallows her up.

In her dream, she falls through darkness.

In her dream she falls forever.

On about two hours of sleep, Aya’s managed to make eggs on rice for her family. It’s odd to have the house so quiet; Aya can’t remember the last time she’s had a small sliver of peace.

There’s the taste of old coins on the back of her tongue. It’s easy to use her ability today. Aya barely has to concentrate; unbidden, the utensils float into her hand. She can feel the power thrumming below in her veins, jumping like static electricity to sting her skin.

Exhaustion from the night’s events drags at her like wet winter clothes during a swim. She doesn’t know how much longer she’ll be able to resist the pull of a current she doesn’t understand. Aya wonders what would happen if she lies down and refuses to get up ever again.

“How are you feeling today?” Odasaku puts his hand on her forehead.

“A cold, maybe.” Her face is aflame and Aya feels like she’s running a fever. Her throat is stripped raw.

“Are you getting sick?”

“No, don’t worry.”

“Maybe you should see a doctor.”

“I’m fine, Dad. Really.”

“Why don’t you go back to sleep?”

Too achy to argue, Aya lets him push her in the direction of her bedroom.

“Daddy?” She asks. She hasn’t called him that since she was nine. “Could you stay with me until I fall asleep? Please?”

He does.

Tonight, she finally gets a reprieve from the onslaught of nightmares.

Her father comes to her in flashes. Sometimes, Aya can hear his voice, just a word or two, but somehow flavored with warmth and the tiniest hint of familiarity that makes Aya think that she’s heard it before somewhere, somehow, even though such a feat should be impossible. And then she sees his face, this time clearly visible, an uncanny mirror of her own delicate features, scrunched up mid-laugh, as a pair of chubby hands reach out to pat at his cheeks. There’s a high-pitched gurgle of laughter, the twinkly sound of a child’s laughter as a hank of bright orange hair is tugged on and slobbered over.

“Aya, no, stop, that’s dirty!”

Her cheeks are wet when she wakes up. Aya feels the ceiling brush against the crown of her head; her feet skim empty air.

It had felt so real; like she was there, relieving the moment together.

The tears refuse to stop falling.

It’s Aya’s turn to make breakfast. She’ll admit that she’s unusually distracted today, the dreams weighing heavily on her mind. Apprehension has been thrashing around in her heart, unspoken and squashed down by her will. Odasaku wanders into the kitchen, and, too late, Aya realizes that the miso soup has boiled and bubbled over. Hastily, she grabs a rag and mops up the mess, but the damage is done.

Concern colours Odasaku’s face. “What’s wrong?”

Aya bites her lip and plays with her fingers. “There’s nothing wrong.”

“Yes, there is.” He smiles and pets her hair, smoothing out stray strands and untangling knots. “I can tell.”

Aya hesitates.

“Dad?”

“Yeah?”

“What were my parents like?”

Odasaku looks taken aback. It’s understandable. She’s never asked him about them before; he’d always imitated the conversation, and even then, Aya had never shown much interest in them. “Why do you ask?”

“I dreamed about them.” Aya ventures nervously. “I think . . . I think they looked like me.”

Aya wipes her hands on a dish towel, and tries to save the soup. In her mind’s eye she can see her father, the bronzed curls, the warmth in his eyes and the brightness of his smile. She says, wistfully, “He had orange hair. I heard his laugh. It was . . . Nice.”

“That was Chuuya,” Odasaku says, quietly, “You would have loved him.”

She’s heard that before.

“What was he like?”

Odasaku offers her a small, strained smile. “We’ll talk when you get home after school, okay?”

Due to her own stubborn willfulness at wanting to tag along with Kunikida from the Armed Detective Agency, Aya doesn’t get a chance to go home, and instead, finds herself traipsing through a dark and damp subway tunnel, curls bouncing and heels crunching against gravel.

The more rational part of her insists that she should leave this to Kunikida who’s been trained to deal with situations like this, that Odasaku won’t be happy if he knows how she’s spending her afternoon – he always manages to find out about her mischievous endeavors, it’s almost as though he has a sixth sense – but there’s a bigger part of her that says Kunikida owes her this. She’s nearly been blown to pieces by a bomber; she’s absolutely freezing; and by morning, half the population of Yokohama will know her as the poor little girl who was involved in a bombing.

And then it all goes to hell.

“Kunikida,” Aya tries to say, but the name catches in her throat. She feels like fear has turned her to stone. She squeezes her eyes shut, but she can still see the soft shower of blood that splatters the concrete in crimson pools.

Kunikida. Anger seethes through her like liquid. He’s hurt, he’s hurt, he’s hurt, she can’t just sit here and do nothing –

There’s a horrible bang – a thousand times worse than the sound of a balloon exploding – and then a loud scream as a body hurtles into a wall, hard enough that the concrete splinters upon impact.

“Okay, Kunikida,” Aya says, keeping her voice steady, even though her hands still quake with leftover nerves. There’s an unfamiliar voice in her head now, snarling that she should kill the screaming fool now and get it over with, and she can feel the power at the tips of her fingers, the carnal urge to rage and scream and destroy almost overpowering, but Aya pushes it to the back of her mind and tells it to shut the hell up. “I can hold him, but you need to disarm the bombs.”

Kunikida’s staring at her, at her glowing red hands in shock. His face is caked with blood. “ . . . Aya?”

“I’ll explain later,” She says in a strangled voice. There’s a cut above her left eye, and a bloody gash on her cheek. Wet warmth trickles down her face, mixing with panic sweat. Odasaku’s voice swims through her head, warning her not to use her Ability in public. She hopes, prays that Kunikida won’t tell anyone about this. “Just . . . Hurry. Please.”

Aya’s unable to support her own weight; Kunikida has to half-carry, half-drag her for several paces at her insistence that she can walk. When what little strength she has drains out of her, Aya crumples into a heap on the floor. Kunikida gives up the charade of allowing her to walk on her own and unceremoniously lifts her up off the floor and into his arms, as if she weighs nothing more than a feather.

To make matters worse, Odasaku sees Kunikida carrying her into the office – who knew they worked at the same place? – and cries out her name in panic when he sees her bloodied clothes and the myriad of shallow slices all over her forehead and left cheek. She’s never seen him look so scared before, and for a moment, Aya feels guilty at the pain she’s causing him.

Again.

“Daddy, I’m fine,” Aya sighs, but her protests fall on deaf ears as she’s rushed to the infirmary.

The doctor that meets them in the infirmary is the picture of calm, set in direct contrast with everyone else’s reaction. Aya can’t find any trace of anxiety in her face. In a soft voice, she introduces herself as Yosano, and invites Aya to take a seat. She works with quick, sure movements. The only sound besides their quiet breathing is the soft plink, plink as the tiny fragments of debris drop one by one onto the table. The feel of needle and thread tugging at the edges of Aya’s skin lapses into something almost soothing and repetitive.

“Daddy? You’re looking at me funny.” Aya says, as Yosano tapes up her face with gauze and bandages, sealing it to her skin. She won’t be able to take off her bandages for a few days, so she’ll be reduced to seeing out of one eye for the time being.

He is. Odasaku’s staring at her, so hard that it makes her uncomfortable. “You look like him.”

She knows he’s referring to her father – she can finally put a face to the nameless concept of a father – but Aya can’t yet tell if the resemblance is a positive or negative attribute.  

“Also, you’re grounded.”

“What?!”

Tonight, she sees an unfamiliar face. Parts of his face are hidden by shadows, but Aya gets a glimpse of high cheekbones, clear, white skin wreathed in bandages, and a whisky brown eye, so dark and full. The sleeve of a black jacket flutters in and out of view, a bird’s wing.

Black makes her think of an infinite darkness, thick and cloying; of the nameless beast that has haunted her dreams every single night. Swiftly, something cluthes at her throat. Fear. “It’s going to come.”

“Who?” His voice is very soft; his eyes are even softer as he tilts his head and drinks in the sight of her.

“The dog. He always comes.”

“Not tonight.” She hears him say, ever so softly. She turns to him, surprised. He feels her gaze and turns too.

“Are you sure?” Aya asks, confused, her eyes darting about, searching for nonexistent answers.

“Yes. He won’t come. Not as long as I’m here.”

She’s relieved; a weight eases up off her chest, her breathing comes easier now.

“Are you scared of him?” He stares at her appraisingly.

It takes a minute for Aya to grasp that she should reply, and not as defiantly as she would have liked, she retorts: “A little bit.”

“But it’s okay now.”

A strange calm fills her.

They sit together in the silence.

She sleeps through the night, and doesn’t wake up once.

[ol-razzle-dazazzle]

A Moral Compass Directs You to a Bar

An attempt to properly give Kunikida and Chuuya the correct characterisation they deserve, also with some shippy stuff. I tend to see these two mischaracterised and flanderized in fanfics so I figured I'd try kill two birds with one stone here, anyway- enjoy. --------------- It was a late night for Kunikida. It always was. While he never was one to show his nervousness (or at least he considered himself as such), it was difficult. He was walking along, flickering through the pages in his notebook. It didn't matter where he was or how he was going, but it was hard. The city was somewhat salvaged, and he didn't want to look up at the debris that lingered around the place. He felt sick. He felt like he failed. Fukuzawa was talking about him the other day, how he was to be the next successor for the Armed Detective Agency. Sure, it figured that he fit the bill, and was the 'ideal' person for the job but... a smashed car, he looked to the side, there was brown, but the rusty colour of dried blood. He was in a seedy area, and the police hadn't cleared everything up. How many people had died? And in the end, it wasn't even him that saved them. Kunikida always helped, of course he did- he always tried to be the best person, from taking extra missions because of urgency or just cleaning up around the office. He held himself to a high standard, why wouldn't he? But he always went through the same thing. The schedule would always be uninterrupted, the 'ideal' would never come about. It hurt, though he resists and persists, but it still aches. Especially ever since...everything with the Azure King. He brushed it aside, but it all managed to catch up with him. With a sigh, he glanced up at some dimly lit bar, well why the hell not? Well the first few reasons include safety, drinking clouds judgement but oh he's already through the door. This is stupid, this is the kind of behaviour that gets people killed. There weren't many people, a metaphoric twist in the knife. "Just a...glass of cold water, to clear my head." Kunikida murmurs to the barkeep, knowing it's not going to stay for that long. A voice almost speaks his mind, "You come all the way over to this hole for a glass of water? I can't tell whether you're an idiot or you want to pretend you have class." The seat next to him gets occupied, and Kunikida freezes, hands clutched to his notebook. "I'd rather not get into a fight drunk, considering your reputation, Nakahara." Kunikida squints at him, unsure as to why the mafiosi hasn't changed in his disposition. "Look, normally I'd love the chance to pound one of you into the ground, but with everything going on lately, the Mafia's wanting a little break from wars." He gives a smirk, "How about a little truce, huh? We can even make a toast if you want." Kunikida shakes his head, but sets the notebook aside. "Seriously? You think I'd lie to you? I mean, I don't want to have to answer to /him/ again anyway." "I know you're honest, but I'd rather not sully myself with the likes of you." Chuuya frowned, a finger moving to the notebook, "Ideal, hmm?" It was swiped away, earning a glare from the other man. "Calm down, I didn't mean to disarm you." Kunikida sneers, "I know that, you're a man of class and an idiot." Chuuya accepts the verbal blow, smiling, "See? Now we're getting somewhere. Barkeep, two glasses." Now with a swirled glass in hand, Chuuya leans back into the seat. "One glass, enough to stir the senses, don't you think?" Kunikida takes a sip, "I suppose, they say a glass a day prolongs your lifespan." "Especially if you're a lightweight, like yours truly." "I don't drink often." Kunikida looks at the pooled red. "Not ideal?" "Stop going on about that." "Well, I don't know much about you outside of files, so that's all I have to go off." Kunikida grits his teeth, "and I don't have much to know about you apart from being a reckless, brutal, drunkard who can't mind his own business." "Well none of those things are true, to that extent- I feel the records flanderize me." "And my ideals are important to me, which is why I can't stand going against them. It's why I go against people like you." Chuuya frowned, "And how's that been going for you so far?" Kunikida stiffened. "You came all this way because life is going along to your little storybook? I can't believe that." "It's not." Kunikida mumbled, "Things haven't been going as planned." "No shit." Chuuya took a sip, raising a glass, "Tons of our people died in all that mess, a lot more than you'd think." "And who is 'our people'? The same criminal dogs who kick morals to the curb?" The glass in Chuuya's hand dropped, rattling. "Well, allow me to enlighten you. Do you have any clue why a mafia is made?" "It's a crime syndicate used to earn money." Kunikida stared back. "I'm not asking for dictionaries, dipshit. The very first one, why was it formed?" Upon seeing no answer, "It was to protect everybody who couldn't go to the police because they were corrupt." "How dare you say that we're-" "You misunderstand. I just mean that not all of us are 10 million yen orphan tigers or math teachers with a lucky break." Chuuya stares at him, "I'm not completely devoid of human sympathy, we all have standards." Kunikida raises an eyebrow, "I don't get why you're telling me all this." "Because I want you to stop being so stupidly strict on yourself and just at least try to enjoy yourself." "Is that where Dazai got it from?" "No, I'm just...look, I feel like fucking shit right now, so I figured 'misery loves company' and that I would at least try to be civil." Chuuya settles his head on the table. "I don't want to sleep because I wake up every morning and there's less people. You can sense it in the air." "That pungent scent of failure." Kunikida looks down. "Yep." Kunikida sighs, clinking his glass with Chuuya's. "To impossible to achieve standards." Chuuya merely nods, propping himself up on the chair. "So what's gotten you all upset? You're the one that gets all the credit, after all, that agency." "It's...a lot of things. Mainly that I didn't do enough." "I hear that. Fucking Akutagawa fixed up everything, my subordinate! Can you believe that shit? And what did I do? Just stand around, doing a few flips?" "You did look rather cool, Kenji couldn't stop talking about you afterwards." "R-Really?" The flush came too quickly on Chuuya's face, coughing. "Didn't expect that." "Not to mention Lovecraft, he was difficult enough regularly with the other one, let alone with that...ability?" "Would you have liked to have seen my kickflips then?" Chuuya smirks. "Yes, I would." Kunikida rolls his eyes. "Well, when you lay it all out like that it sounds like we did quite a bit." The two sigh, "But it wasn't enough." "They always say 'you did the best you could', but you know deep down you could do more." Kunikida flicks through the pages, uncaring of he glances. "Well, you know- there's always a difference between theory and practise. You could specifically plan everything to its best potential, but when it actually happens it never works out that way." "That just means you have to try harder." "What it means is that you have to allow room for 'error'. You got a pen?" Chuuya asks, a hand splayed out, as he scrawls what he said, on the back page. "Don't rip it out, will you?" "Thanks for the free calling card. If there's every any handwriting analysis I'll be sure to know if it's yours." Kunikida jokes. "Nah, we get Elise or Mori to write those anyway, they prefers it like that." Chuuya waves a dismissal hand, "Besides, it's nice to have something on record that isn't 'idiotic aggressive drunkard'." "And what, you're going to update my own 'file'?" "Maybe, but it's nice to know you aren't half as annoying as I thought you'd be." "Likewise." Kunikida took back his pen, writing once more. "Hm...? 'Can't be in the Port Mafia'? Wait, this is under 'ideal partner'." Chuuya exhales, "Well that's fucking rude. You had to add another restriction just for me." "Well it's like you said, I can't achieve a perfect ideal, because life doesn't work that way." "What's this? You think I'd be a decent partner except for that one part?" Kunikida merely sets judgement aside, and sets his lips on Chuuya's own. Objectively, it wouldn't be perfect, but the imperfections made the world around him soften slightly. "Well my ideal is to not have anyone from the Agency, so I guess that doesn't work out nicely." But it did, and for a while it felt like those contradictions made sense.

[silverweretiger]

Spectre: My character will be visited by your character’s ghost //that AU we talked about?

Drabble list– You can send one anytime.

It had been… how long exactly since then? Since Corruption took away everything he held dear? Since Chuuya died and left him all alone once more? He could still remember the day it had happened. It was still fresh in mind as if it had just happened despite the time that had passed since then. He remembered vividly how cold he felt in the morning, how no matter how much he shook his lover, his eyes wouldn’t open and he wasn’t met by beautiful sapphires, how he couldn’t feel the gentle ba-thump of a beating heart under his hand.

Chuuya had passed away in his sleep.

He supposed that it was for the best. Better than suffering a painful death although that didn’t make it any easier to bear.

It had been… almost a year since then. He wasn’t sure how he managed to drag himself along, how he wasn’t dead himself. It was all thanks to Kurashi who dropped regularly by the younger’s place to make sure that he was eating and taking care of himself properly although he was busy himself and not always able to pass by. Still, Atsushi continued to take care of himself as well as he could while still trying to get used to the silence that enveloped him every time he was left alone. Almost a year later and he still couldn’t believe that his boyfriend was dead.

It wasn’t until a few days later that he noticed something. It was early in the morning as he padded into the kitchen with Tomo, Oreo and Faust on his heels. As usually, he fed the kittens first before preparing himself a cup of green tea and two slices with butter and jam on them. It wasn’t enough to be considered a consistent breakfast and he was surely going to get hungry later in the day, but he didn’t care. That was about as much energy as he could summon in order to prepare something for himself.

So colour him surprised when suddenly the jam jar on the table flew off and onto the floor. It luckily didn’t break although it did startle him greatly. How in the world did that happen? It had been out of his reach so he couldn’t have accidentally knocked it off. He didn’t even touch it to begin with.

“Is this what you call a breakfast? Really, Atsushi?”

For a moment there was just confusion and silence. Did– Did he hear Chuuya’s voice? Or was he missing his love so much that he was imagining things?

“Oy, I’m talking to you.“

No, that was definitely him. But how? He had been dead for so long. It wasn’t possible!!

“But… but you are dead…“

“Yes, I am, but that does not fucking mean you gotta starve yourself to join me.“

Amethyst eyes widened considerably as he pushed his chair back. Slowly, he stood up and grabbed the jar off the floor then put it back on the table before looking around and trying to find where Chuuya was. Or, rather, where his ghost was.