Ok wait am I stupid?
Ok so I just had a dumb question pop into my mind out of nowhere. I randomly just figured this out and I NEED someone to explain to me.
So, Dazai met chuuya when they were 15, which is why it's called the 15 manga and ark. So, if they were 15 back then and they're 22 now, doing subtraction, it's been 7 years since they met, right? Ok that adds up, because they always mention how they're partnership has gone on for said many years. HOWEVER, Dazai left the port mafia 4 years ago and was in hiding the whole time. Subtract 4 from 7 and, correct me if I'm being dumb, but that leaves 3. They've been partners for 3 years. Not 7. Not 6. But 3. Have I been lied to or am I overthinking this? I NEED ANSWERS PLEASE
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“Chuuuuuyaaaaa!”
That grating voice…
“Dazai?!”
The skinny man gave the redhead a friendly wave from the couch- which he was comfortably sprawled out on with a wine glass in hand, and the TV on to a barely audible volume.
“Welcome home!”
“How the hell did you get in here?”
“Broke in.”
Chuuya stared for a few seconds, contemplating the scene with an air of resignation.
“I shoulda known,” he sighed, giving in.
He was too damn tired to even get angry. He’d been working his ass off for weeks on end and now that he finally had time to go home, he wasn’t planning on wasting that time on this idiot. So he continued on his way, closing the door behind him, removing his shoes, and placing his coat and hat on the hanger by the door. He stretched out with a groan as he walked past the couch towards the kitchen, sensing Dazai’s hazel eyes lazily tracing his every move. The brunette swirled the wine in his glass and took another sip.
“That better not be one of my good wines!” Chuuya yelled over his shoulder.
“Ha! As if!” Dazai shouted back, “Wouldn’t be caught dead downing one of your stupid snobby wines. Talk about embarrassing!”
The redhead felt his ears heat up as he twitched in visible annoyance. He scoffed as he eventually shuffled back to the couch with a bottle of wine and another glass in hand.
“Oh, shut up! You know what’s really embarrassing? Thinking that cheap sake actually tastes good!”
“It does,” the man retaliated blankly.
“Yeah, if you like the taste of piss! Now, move your ass!”
Chuuya roughly shoved Dazai to the side in an attempt to slip into the couch.
“Wha-hey! Ow?! Go sit on the other side, it’s literally completely empty!” he cried.
“It’s my damn couch, I get to decide where I wanna sit!”
“Oh my godddd, Chuuya’s so childish,”
“Chuuya’s gonna kick you out of his fucking house if you don’t move!”
Dazai scoffed, rolling his eyes, but regardless he ceded a bit of his space to him.
After an extended physical struggle, the two settled into a comfortable enough position in which neither would complain- leaning against each other, practically shoulder to shoulder; Chuuya’s foot dangling off the arm of the couch, and his own arm rested around the couch’s back; Dazai with his legs clutched to his chest, and head rested on Chuuya’s shoulder. Their wine glasses had been abandoned at the foot of the couch. As the movie on the TV droned on, the redhead felt his eyelids grow incredibly heavy. He had to make an active effort to keep his head from falling forward, as the sudden weight it gained was far too much for him to handle. He sighed, and he sighed again, and again.
“Long day?”
“Hah,” he sneered, “Try month.”
“They’re working you to the bone, huh?”
In response, Chuuya sighed once more.
“Well, I’m glad I don’t have to deal with that,” the other chuckled. “Sucks to be you.”
“Yeah, that’s real helpful, asshole.”
Dazai shifted, peeling himself away from Chuuya and adjusting their position to bring the shorter man closer to his chest.
“Mmm,” he murmured, running soft slender fingers through the mafioso’s hair “My poor, poor slug...”
He scratched gently at his scalp and Chuuya couldn’t help but give a content hum as he allowed himself to melt into the man’s chest, and wrapped his arms around his waist.
“Jus’…gonna lay here a sec…” he mumbled as he slowly drifted off.
His eyes fluttered shut and soon he was snoring softly into Dazai’s chest, to which the man could only smirk. It was endearing. The warmth of the moment. The comfort. Dazai wrapped his own arms around Chuuya’s body and settled into a more comfortable laying position, so that as he fixated on his lover’s steady breathing, he too could drift into peaceful slumber.
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