Chapter Text
We are not equal. We never have been, and we never will be.
Dazai was relaxing in his office, humming his suicide song to himself as he relaxed on the couch. Of course, nice moments couldn’t last as his dog barged in, not even bothering to knock.
“You're such a brute,” Dazai huffed.
Chuuya crossed his arms, glowering at him. “Explain yourself.”
Dazai suppressed a shiver at the command.
Dazai had, in his opinion, so far managed to keep the chibi unaware of the fact that Dazai now had to do anything his slug said.
Memories of yesterday nearly made him laugh. Being told to stay still during a mission and nearly being shot with a bazooka of all things. He was glad Chuuya had intercepted the HEAT; trying to explain why he came back to life out of a million splattered pieces would have been troublesome, even for him.
Chuuya was still staring at him, waiting for an explanation that Dazai never intended to give. Fortunately, such indirect commands had plenty of work arounds.
“What are you wanting me to explain?” Dazai asked, eyebrow raised. He felt like he choked on an instinctual ‘master.’ God, he was falling apart. Damn Mori.
“Why are you acting so weird?” Chuuya demanded.
Dazai considered this. How to answer within the parameters of the command… “Because slug has somehow become even more annoying than usual,” he settled on.
“No, you don’t get to do this.” Dazai blinked. His dog was learning, it seemed. “You being weird is starting to affect our missions. I don’t want to lose my position because you're being a pain in the ass.”
Dazai snorted. As if Mori would ever let Chuuya go, now that he knew he could use the red-head to control the so called Demon Prodigy. “Chibi is at no risk of losing his position,” he said airily.
“Not everyone can be the Demon Prodigy,” Chuuya snarled at him.
Dazai felt something cold in his chest. “You don’t know what you are talking about,” he replied cooly. How dare his ignorant chibi question Dazai's decisions?
“Then explain, damn it!” Chuuya shouted. Dazai repressed a wince as Chuuya got angrier, louder, more dangerous.
Angry, angry, angry.
Danger .
“We’re supposed to be partners!”
Dazai could have laughed. As if they could ever be partners anymore. Chuuya owned him, knowingly or not, and such a partnership would never last. “We can't be partners with such a power disparity,” he said, trying to keep the shake out of his voice.
“Why are you suddenly so focused on that?! The dog jokes were bad enough, but you won't stop smearing in my face that you think you are better!”
Loud, loud, danger.
As if. Chuuya had always been the best between them. Nothing to do with Arahabaki, his chibi had always been strong, and determined, and so very, very human. Dazai was a hollow shell in comparison.
But Dazai would not say this. It was better that Chuuya stay mad and clueless. So Dazai only rolled his eyes, pushing himself up to leave. He needed to get away from this conversation before he broke down. He could feel his hands shaking, and he was only breathing normally because he forced himself to, despite how it made him feel like he was suffocating. He just needed to get away, and then he could curl into himself and regroup.
“Stay there,” Chuuya said furiously.
Angry, angry, danger.
Dazai felt himself jerkily stop. He tried to push through the growing panic and remain nonchalant, leaning (—stiffly, too stiffly, Chuuya was going to notice—) back against the couch cushions.
“I want you to explain yourself.”
Explain yourself, fox.
Dazai bit the inside of his cheek, the copper taste grounding him slightly. “Well,” he managed, but his throat was too tight. He swallowed. “I don’t want to explain myself.”
God, couldn’t his chibi just let him go? Dazai needed to get away, he was going to collapse and break and then chibi would ask even more questions and even if Dazai didn’t answer he knew the slug wasn’t dumb he would figure it out eventually or he would figure it out while Dazai was breaking so Dazai needed to leave, leave, leave, leave—
“You don’t get a choice!” he shouted at him. Dazai flinched, his eye darting around the room as it blurred, a jumble of noise that he couldn’t process. “What?!”
So angry, the red-head- there was a god, the god was angry, and Dazai was here, and Dazai didn’t know-
“S-sorry,” he breathed, pushing himself backwards into the squishy surface, wishing he could meld with the wall.
“Yeah, sure you are,” sneered the god.
Dazai's stomach flipped. Why didn’t they believe him? “I am,” he whispered pleadingly, abandoning his search of the room and instead looking at the god in front of him. His heart lurched, and he whimpered. His master. This god was- “I am, please, master—”
“Stop fucking calling me that!”
Dazai sucked in a breath, nodding. “Y-yes sir, I’ll stop, sir. I'm sorry, sir,” he stammered out. He wanted to ask what he ought to call the god, but one look at the god’s face told him he was better not speaking unless spoken to.
“What the fuck is wrong with you?!” the god demanded, turning around in agitation as he threw up his arms. Dazai whimpered. “One second you're telling me I'm an idiot—” Dazai's mouth fell open. Why, why in the world would he call his god an idiot? He couldn’t remember doing that, but his god would not care for such an excuse. “—and the next you're acting like this! If this is some fucking prank you're trying to pull to make me an idiot again for caring then it won't work, I'm not fucking falling for it again!”
Dazai did not have any idea what was happening anymore. Nothing his god was saying made any sense. Had he gone mad? And was Dazai going to be trapped as the outlet for his madness?
His god turned around, and Dazai dared to glance at his face to gauge his expression. Still fucking pissed, great, Dazai thought hysterically.
“What are you doing?!”
“Nothing, sir,” Dazai answered immediately, nearly blurring his words together in his haste to get them out.
“Why are you cringing like I'm going to—”
His god stopped. Dazai didn’t dare look up. He continued to stare at his god’s feet, an obvious show of submission. He would have his ears down, too, if they weren’t hidden. Why were they hidden? He was never allowed to have them hidden—
“I'm going to fucking regret this.”
Dazai startled as the god squatted down, catching Dazai's eye and staring into his face. Dazai held his breath.
“Why are you acting like this?”
Dazai's brows furrowed. “Like what, sir?” he asked hesitantly.
“You know what you did…!”
Dazai shoved himself backwards, biting his lips to keep himself from making a sound.
“Like a jittery fucking squirrel.”
Dazai chewed his lip. Nothing was making sense. He didn’t know where he was, he didn’t know why he had his tail and ears hidden, and why did his god speak with two voices? “I don’t understand,” he finally whispered, when it became clear that his god was waiting for an answer. He knew he was meant to know, but he just didn’t. Normally, he was adept at figuring it out, but he couldn’t figure anything at the moment.
“So useless.”
Dazai cringed, turning his face in expectation of a blow.
“Do you even know where you are?”
Dazai blinked open his eye, looking around the room, hoping that this time he would recognize it. No, he didn’t. “No, sir,” he answered eventually, ashamed.
His god sighed. “Dazai, we are in your office at headquarters. We aren’t wherever you think you are.”
Dazai repressed the urge to frown. That would be no good towards his god. But he didn’t think he was anywhere. He was only here, wherever here was. “Yes, sir,” he answered regardless.
“Dazai,” his god said, and Dazai refocused on him. “Who do you think I am?”
Dazai blinked. Was this a test? It was a simple one, if so. “My master.”
His god winced, but asked again, “Who is your master?”
“Y-you…?” Dazai answered hesitantly. Why was he being taught a lesson right now? And such a basic one? He already knew that he was his master’s. He had learnt this as a kit.
“And who am I?”
His god wanted a different answer, then. “A̷̢̻̺̼͎͕̺̞̬͇͐̈̇̂̊̀̉r̸͓̪̘̒̾̄̈́̉̃̎̿̑a̴̧̲̥͖͓̹̬̔̈́̍̏̾̒̆̔h̷͙͇̰̮̄̽͌̑̕à̸̰̞̫̞͔͙͓̰͕̦͙̮̊̏̆͋̈́̍̕͘ḇ̷̧̢̦͖̳̬̝̹̘̣̭̮̎̆͒à̵̢̘̟͍̌͐̃̈̄̍̀͒̚ķ̸̛̞̻̠̔́̌͝͝i̵̢̳̠͙͖̟͓͗͒ -sama?” he tried.
Wrong answer.
Dazai felt nauseous as his master growled, a slight red glow surrounding him – not powers, please don’t use your power, it hurts so much more, please don’t – as he stood up. “What?!”
“N-no,” Dazai said hurriedly, attempting to backtrack as his god loomed over him. “I meant- I- you're my- I'm not—!” Dazai had fucked up, he had fucked up so bad and he didn’t even know what he had done so he couldn’t fix it— “I- I- who- what do you want me to say?” he finally pleaded, the air whistling between his teeth.
Placation. He didn’t know what he had done so he had to placate best he could. His masters always liked when he acknowledged his station, they liked when he admitted he was weaker, dumber, less important. He just needed to placate. “I'm stupid,” he managed, his throat tightening around the words. “I don’t know what you want me to say. Please,” he added.
His god was no longer glowing red. Dazai relaxed slightly.
“This better not be a prank, or I will fucking pummel you.”
Dazai tensed again, breaths becoming painful. He barely noticed as the tears started down his face. “P-please, sir, please, I'm so sorry, I didn’t—I didn’t mean to offend you, sir,” he rambled desperately, his mind whirring. “I'm just- I'm just a stupid kitsune, I didn’t mean to offend you, please, please have mercy on me, please. I swear I didn’t mean to, I didn’t- I don’t- I'm- please, please don’t hurt me, I'm sorry, I—”
“You're,” his god said, and Dazai snapped his mouth shut. “—a kitsune?”
Dazai nodded, shuddering with dread.
“You're being serious?” his god laughed.
Dazai wanted to curl up into a little ball, to protect himself. His god was now laughing, he was laughing it would be a game he had fucked up enough for a game how could he be so stupid—
“You don’t,” his god started, then paused. “Where are your ears then?”
Dazai opened his mouth, sucking in a breath, and tried to steady his voice enough to be coherent. “H-hid-den, s-sir. Do you w-want me to bring them ou-out?”
His god nodded.
Dazai obliged.
His god stared at his head. He stared, and stared, and didn’t say a thing. Dazai tried to focus on not moving. Why his god wanted to see his ears, he did not know. But he would be still. He would be good.
“You're really a kistune,” his god finally said, sitting down.
Dazai nodded, unsure. “Yes, sir. I'm sorry.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
Those words made no sense, and apparently even his god thought so, as he shook his head.
“Nevermind. You're not even aware of who I am.”
Dazai's breath hitched, reminded of his failure. “Please” he begged. “I’ll do better. I promise I won't forget. Please, please tell me. I won't forget ever again, I swear.” Dazai would carve the name into his own skin every day if that is what it took.
“Breathe slower, idiot.”
“Calm down, Yukiko! It’s just a little g a m E .”
Dazai's heart rabbited as his breaths slowed down.
“Look,” his god said, and Dazai tried to focus on him, even as he felt like he was going to suffocate. “I'm not mad at you. And I'm not Arahabaki.”
Dazai nodded frantically.
“I'm Chuuya,” his god, Chuuya, said.
Dazai nodded again, hope washing through him. “Yes, yes, Chuuya-sama, sir, you're Chuuya-sama, not A̷̢̻̺̼͎͕̺̞̬͇͐̈̇̂̊̀̉r̸͓̪̘̒̾̄̈́̉̃̎̿̑a̴̧̲̥͖͓̹̬̔̈́̍̏̾̒̆̔h̷͙͇̰̮̄̽͌̑̕à̸̰̞̫̞͔͙͓̰͕̦͙̮̊̏̆͋̈́̍̕͘ḇ̷̧̢̦͖̳̬̝̹̘̣̭̮̎̆͒à̵̢̘̟͍̌͐̃̈̄̍̀͒̚ķ̸̛̞̻̠̔́̌͝͝i̵̢̳̠͙͖̟͓͗͒ -sama. I won't forget again, I swear,” he gasped.
“And I'm not your master, I'm your partner.”
Dazai figured he must have missed something. Hopefully Chuuya-sama wouldn’t notice.
Chuuya-sama sighed – Dazai flinched – and started to speak. “Dazai, we are in your office at headquarters. Today, I had lessons with Ane-san, then did a shit-ton of paperwork. I had to do all the paper work for the Jade mission because a certain mackerel refused to be bothered. Then I went to the gym to train…”
His words began to blend together as Dazai felt his heart rate slow down. Chuuya-sama was no longer mad at him. How Dazai had escaped punishment he didn’t know, but once he was more coherent he would memorize every single line spoken, every action he took, so that he could replicate it next time.