Chapter Text
Three weeks, Chuuya thought, was a long time to spend away from the love of his life. The fact that he was calling Dazai that in his head was insane, but it also apparently meant that any time they spent getting closer would actively endanger Chuuya. He felt somewhat bad for laughing now. Dazai’s curse was brutal.
“What is your agency gonna do now that your main enemy is, ya know, exploded.” Chuuya asked mostly to distract himself. He stared out the window while Fukuzawa drove.
“Even with Mori gone, our work is far from done. Anti-fae sentiment permeates every aspect of Yokohama: from fringe hate groups, to government policy, to everyday discrimination. The Fae Liberation Agency will continue to fight for the fae who are outcast by society. That, and I suspect the Port Monster Hunters will try to rebuild themselves.” Chuuya looked over at Fukuzawa, and caught him smiling slightly in the rearview mirror. “But after what you did, they will never recover their former status or strength. While I wish we could have avoided so much death, I suspect thousands of fae lives were saved by the destruction you wrought upon the Monster Hunters. For that you have my thanks.”
“Shut up, old man. You’re just gonna feed his ego.” Shirase piped up from the back seat. Kunikida had brought him into the agency late the night before. Fortunately by that point one of the agents had gotten another tank. “He’s already been calling himself the ‘King of the Sheepsheads’, even though we’re supposed to be ruled by committee. Don’t think that’s gonna go on much longer now. All that time you were with your boyfriend? I was building up my influence. When we get back, I’ll be taking control of the Sheepsheads. Didn’t see that coming, did ya?”
“That’s some big talk for the guy who gave sensitive information to the boss of the Port Monster Hunters without even knowing it,” Ranpo, at least, had warned them this time that he was hitching a ride to Poe’s house. “You’re even more of a stupid baby than most people.”
The expression on Shirase’s face was priceless. “Hey! What the hell!? Did this guy seriously just call me a baby! I swear I’ll—”
“Since leaving my old job as an assassin, I have done my best to be a temperate and merciful man.” Fukuzawa didn’t take his eyes off the road ahead. “But know this, mermaid. If you lay a finger on Ranpo, I will break every bone in your body.”
Chuuya looked behind him to see Shirase absolutely stunned into silence, and had to hold back a laugh.
The rest of the drive passed in relative peace, the only break in which came when another car fucking cut Fukuzawa off. Kunikida had taught Chuuya about traffic laws and norms, so he knew when people broke them. Obviously, Chuuya rolled down his window to curse out the asshole, who had only ended up one car ahead of them for his trouble. The other driver shouted back, and they flipped each other off as they drove apart. It was exhilarating.
Fukuzawa and Ranpo said their goodbyes. It was nothing big; Chuuya would see them again in three weeks, and neither of them had really known Shirase. Chuuya would miss seeing the Agency daily, but not nearly as much as he had missed the sea.
There it was: stretching out before the car in all its azure glory. The beach Fukuzawa had driven them to was poorly maintained, more rocks and trash than sand, but that meant it was empty. Chuuya called the water toward him, and he and Shirase swam away.
***
“You’re sure your injuries are completely healed?”
Dazai smiled brightly, and the action felt almost genuine. “No need to be such a mother hen, Kunikida! Yosano’s my doctor, not you.”
The doctor in question waved a hand. “Yeah, yeah. You’re lucky I studied medicine when I was bored, even though I didn’t have to with my ability.” Yosano smiled, softer than Dazai had ever seen her smile before. “But seriously. If you ever get hurt with something you can’t treat at sea, my office is open.”
“Don’t forget he’ll be coming back every month for new bandages,” Ranpo chimed in. “And to watch detective movies with me, of course.” A few days ago, the FLA had held an office movie night. Ranpo had solved the mystery instantly, and had explained it aloud while the other agents looked annoyed or covered their ears. He had been right, of course, and Dazai had said as much. Dazai had also pointed out which red herring was about to send the protagonist running in circles for the first two acts. Ranpo had looked up at him, surprised. Then Ranpo started looking at the other characters and guessing what their actions would be. Doing so was much more difficult than simply solving the movie's mystery, as it meant going through layers of both human behavior and an unknown writer’s interpretation of it. Ranpo and Dazai had gotten into multiple intense debates over minute details of different character’s arcs (Ranpo won most, Dazai blamed his writer boyfriend). By the end of the movie, everyone else had left.
“He will be helping us form plans as well.” Kunikida cut in. “Not just taking Yosano’s medical supplies and watching movies.”
“Whatever,” Ranpo rolled his eyes. “See ya, Dazai.” He waved, once, before walking out of the room.
Kunikida, Yosano, Kenji, Atsushi, Kyouka, and the Tanizakis all said their goodbyes. An odd thought crossed Dazai’s mind as he watched them leave. Then next time he saw them, he would have no reason to keep his distance. His first thought was that it would be a betrayal to Odasaku for him to make new friends so soon. But no, Dazai knew better than to think that was what Oda would want. He wasn’t about to seek out friendship with everyone he met like some happy go lucky school kid, but maybe if it came to him naturally, he wouldn’t push it away.
Dazai shook his head. He was letting his optimism about breaking his curse get out of hand. Even if Chuuya’s “sea witch” was successful, which was far from a guaranteed outcome, that wouldn’t erase the inherent barrier Dazai had always felt between himself and others. Or his past.
Fukuzawa entered the room. Dazai was still shocked that the head of the Agency was going to just let him leave. He wasn’t complaining, especially since the deal included a consistent resupply of bandages (the idea of covering his scars with seaweed appalled him). His mind told him that the offer had to be laden with traps or expected favors, but Fukuzawa had been up front with exactly what he wanted in return: help with Agency plans every month, and Dazai had detected no deception in his tone.
“Well? Any final conditions before you set me free?” He really shouldn’t push the subject, but there had to be something.
Fukuzawa’s smile looked entertained. Dazai was supposed to be the one throwing others off balance, not the reverse. “What sort of Fae Liberation Agency would we be if we held a mermaid hostage?”
Well. Dazai wasn’t going to argue.
Fukuzawa stepped forward and scooped Dazai out of the fish tank. Between getting captured in the sewers and needing to be placed in a wheelchair to get to Yosano’s office, Dazai had gotten used to being moved like a cat.
“I will miss having you around, Dazai. Though I suspect that the sea will be a better place for you than our fish tank.”
Dazai frowned. He couldn’t see why Fukuzawa cared about him, but, “Don’t say things like that. You know how my curse works.” He had realized the danger when he noticed that Fukuzawa had caught on that his favorite seafood (apparently all he could eat now) was crab, and had begun bringing it to him nearly every day.
“Of course,” Fukuzawa wheeled Dazai through the office doors. “Good thing we won’t have to worry about that soon.”
“If Chuuya’s sea witch is actually real, and not just something that dumb slug imagined.” Hope had only gotten Dazai hurt before.
***
In the time Dazai had spent recovering at the Agency, Chuuya had begun to seem like a dream.
He hadn’t allowed himself to trace the lines of Chuuya’s face in his mind. He had done everything he could to not think about Chuuya at all. But there he was: vibrant as ever, and floating in a glob of water with seemingly no care as to whether any human saw him. With Mori gone, Dazai supposed, there were few who stood a chance against him in a fight.
And he was waiting for Dazai. No one ever did that, not unless he had ensured they feared him or was wielding Mori’s authority. But Chuuya didn’t care about authority. And he certainly didn’t fear Dazai.
Fukuzawa parked the car. Dazai waited while he got out, walked around to the passenger door, and once again scooped up Dazai like a cat. Dazai grinned and lay back, making a show of enjoying the princess treatment. Chuuya glared at him with that lovely eyebrow twitch, and sunk back into the water.
Fukuzawa smiled at Dazai. Kindly. He imagined the way a parent would smile when sending their kid off to college. “I suppose this is goodbye. See you in a month, Dazai.”
“See you then, President.”
Fukuzawa frowned at the water. He was, Dazai realized, wearing traditional full-length elven robes. He sighed, shifted his hold on Dazai, and launched Dazai him into the sea.
Water closed over Dazai’s head, but there was no shock or bitter cold to it. Only a comfortable chill, like a breeze on a hot day. The brush of salt against his skin felt inexplicably right.
“So ya actually managed to stay in the Agency’s good graces long to heal. I kept expecting ya to get kicked out and show up here early.”
“Awww. Chibi was waiting for me.” Dazai preened.
Chuuya rolled his eyes. “Whatever,” And then he examined Dazai. Thoroughly. He seemed to be trying to get a sense of how Dazai’s injuries had healed, as much as anyone could when he was covered in bandages, but Dazai blushed. And then Chuuya’s gaze met Dazai’s. Dazai had missed Chuuya’s eyes: eyes that now perfectly matched to the sunlit water around them. Chuuya’s face, expression softening the longer Dazai held his gaze.
Dazai looked away. He couldn’t let himself remember the taste of Chuuya’s lips. The press of Chuuya’s body against his.
“How far from here is your sea witch?” If this didn’t work, Dazai would leave. He wouldn’t return to the agency. If he could avoid it, he wouldn’t speak to anyone again. Maybe he could fulfill Odasaku’s wish by freeing seabirds from six-pack rings. Still, it was worth humoring Chuuya. And maybe…
“‘Bout twenty minutes. Follow me.”
The swim passed in silence. Dazai forced himself to focus on the sea around them. A coral reef, he thought. He had never had cause to research them before, but Chuuya had spoken highly of them. Dazai could see why. It was beautiful: teeming with color and life. It was nothing compared to how Chuuya’s scales glowed in the sunlight.
The reef thinned out, giving way to a sweep of golden sand. The sunlight streaming through the water cast a crystalline net over the ocean floor. Chuuya’s shadow was surrounded by light.
Then the ocean floor moved. Dazai “jumped” back with a yelp, crashing into Chuuya. Chuuya let out a shout of indignation, but the ocean floor was still moving. A piece of it peeled away, sand streaming behind it, and… flapped?
Dazai looked at Chuuya, utterly bewildered. Chuuya burst into laughter. Dazai glared at him. Couldn’t he see this was serious? If the ocean floor was flaking away, how much time did they have left? Would they have to go back to the Agency’s fish tank? The sewers?
Chuuya calmed down. Finally. Eventually. “You’ve…” A snort. More laughter. “You’ve never seen a ray before, have you?”
What? Did Chuuya think the sunlight was bothering him? “That has nothing to do with this. The ocean floor is falling apart. We should head for—”
Another guffaw from Chuuya cut Dazai off. “ Manta rays, dumbass. They’re animals.” Chuuya shook his head. “Come on. We’re almost there.”
Dazai was left with no choice but to follow, embarrassed and thoroughly confused. Well, Chuuya would see who got the final I told you so when the ocean floor fell apart beneath them.
Fronds of green began to appear; sprouting up from the sandy floor and reaching toward the light. “This is called a kelp forest,” Okay, so apparently Chuuya had decided that Dazai knew literally nothing. He could have inferred that the place was called a kelp forest if Chuuya had just told him that the plants were called kelp. Chuuya grabbed a frond and took a bite out of it. He passed a piece to Dazai. “Kombu. It’s edible.”
Dazai frowned. He wasn’t generally fond of eating random plants, unless he knew they were poisonous. Well, the worst it could do was kill him. He took a cautious nibble.
The kelp forest thickened as Chuuya and Dazai ventured forward. Dazai grabbed more of the kombu as he swam. It was surprisingly good. Oda would be proud of him, actually eating vegetables for once. Dazai felt a stab of pain. If this worked, he wasn’t sure he would ever forgive himself for not looking to the sea for a cure sooner.
The kelp became so thick that Chuuya used his ability to force his way through it. He even left a path open for Dazai, the gentleman, though when Dazai made a comment about this (who knew someone so small could be so courteous!) he got multiple kelp fronds to the face.
Just when Dazai was starting to doubt they would be able to continue forward at all, the wall of kelp ended. Dazai found himself floating into open water, the pressing foliage reduced to a few long leaves brushing against his tail. Light streamed in from above, illuminating a clearing about the size of the Agency office. Yellow sand lined the edges, but beyond that every speck of sea floor was covered by a patchwork of shining stones and shells of every color. At the center of it all was a large stone. Chuuya swam toward it, and Dazai followed. On closer inspection, he saw that there was an entrance to a cave set at the base of the rock, lined with the brightest corals and shells. Chuuya paused before it.
“Shimizu? It’s… um, Yuan’s friend. Nakahara Chuuya.”
“Yes, Nakahara. I was expecting you.” The cave’s voice was calm, yet sturdy in a way that merited respect without demanding it. The water around the cave shifted, then a tentacle emerged. Then another. And then a large octopus pulled itself out of the cave. It had deep velvet skin, ridged across its body and head. The sea witch’s pet, perhaps?
“I am Shimizu Minato, Sea Witch of this region. I understand that you are here for my assistance?”
Dazai managed to avoid jumping back in surprise. “You’re an octopus.”
“At least you’ve heard ’a some sea creatures,” Chuuya commented.
Shimizu was unfazed. “Please, come inside for some tea. Then we can discuss business.”
Shimizu flowed back into the cave, Chuuya close behind, leaving Dazai with no choice but to follow. The entrance was narrow, and Dazai had to twist to avoid his bandages catching on corals or jagged rocks.
Dazai had expected the interior of the cave to be, well, cavelike. But it went much deeper than he had expected, and it was… nice. Almost like a human's home, only with more of a natural oceanic touch. A soft-looking lemon colored sea plant where a couch might be. Rectangular stones in place of tables. Dazai settled himself on a roughly chair-shaped coral by the door.
Shimizu got to brewing the tea. Dazai had wondered how she planned to do this underwater, but it turned out that an elevated section of the cave held a medium-sized pocket of air. She made small talk with Chuuya; upcoming algae blooms, unusual currents, etc; while using two of her arms to strike a fire beneath the tea kettle. Dazai examined a glowing sea plant in the corner, tuning the two of them out lest Chuuya say something that made Dazai care about him.
Patience is essential to negotiations, but it is equally important to not allow yourself to be ignored. Dazai wished he could cast out Mori’s voice, but this was important. The longer this octopus chatted with Chuuya about nothing, the more likely someone Dazai cared about was to die.
Dazai opened his mouth to say something, but a shrill whistle filled the space. Shimizu popped her head into the air pocket and splashed out the fire beneath the tea kettle. She poured three mugs, dropping a tea bag from a container marked Oolong into each, then sprinkling a powder from an unmarked jar into one. She dropped back into the water, smiling warmly as she beconned Dazai and Chuuya with one tentacle.
They all settled where they could have their heads above water to drink the tea. Unsurprisingly, she nudged the one with the mysterious powder toward Dazai. He took it with a gracious smile. Of course he couldn’t live an hour in the ocean without someone trying to poison him. If she really was a witch, she must know Dazai’s true identity and wanted revenge for some fae or another. Understandable, but annoying. He never should have let himself have hope.
Dazai lifted the drink to his lips, blowing to cool it while also giving the tea a surreptitious sniff. No poison or sleep draft that he recognized, but he imagined that he was far from familiar with the various toxins of the sea. It was odd that Shimizu had been so obvious about the poison. Likely, she was usually a benevolent witch, and this attempt at doing harm was clumsy as a result of inexperience.
Shimizu was smiling at Dazai, and he thought she looked mildly entertained, though it was hard to tell with her being an octopus. “I added an elixir to your drink which will allow me to see what manner of curse afflicts you. I can promise I bear no ill will to you because of your past.”
On instinct, Dazai held back a start. The shift in Shimizu’s smile said that she saw his surprise all the same. Dazai should have thought of that. Curses, though laid through incantation, were most commonly caught and remedied by way of physical cures.
“Of course,” Dazai hadn’t let his smile drop. He could make Shimizu test the drink first, but if she was trying to poison him, she likely would have built up an immunity to whatever was in his glass. Or she would refuse on grounds that the powder was dangerous to anyone who wasn’t cursed. “I would expect no less of a respectable witch such as yourself.”
Chuuya rolled his eyes. “It’s fine, Dazai. She’s helped out half a dozen Sheepsheads, and even a few sirens I know. If she cared about moral ambiguity, she wouldn’t treat sirens.” But moral ambiguity was one thing, and Dazai’s past was another.
Dazai could leave. He could swim out of the cave without a backward glance. Mori would call him an idiot for any other course of action. But Mori, in all his genius, had died at the syringe of his own ability. If Dazai left now, he would give up any chance he had at ever breaking his curse.
And if the curse was broken, Dazai would have a chance at loving Chuuya. And wasn’t the first step of love to trust?
Dazai sighed. Fuck it. He hoped that at the very least Chuuya would go on a solid rampage if he died. The mug was small. Dazai downed it in one gulp.
This was a mistake. In all his contemplation, Dazai had forgotten to wait for the tea to cool.
Dazai let out a yelp. Chuuya burst out laughing as Dazai clutched at his throat. Even Shimizu looked like she was holding back a chuckle. Dazai glared at them. Fucking ow. Pain sucked.
Dazai allowed himself the luxury of examining Chuuya’s face, just in case this was the last time. He would never admit it, but the strands of auburn hair floating around Chuuya’s face and neck suited him perfectly. Dazai’s eyes traced the sharp line of Chuuya’s jaw. The curve of his lips as his laughter died down.
When Dazai wasn’t dead, and Chuuya had clearly caught him staring, he looked away. His eyes landed on Shimizu, who was studying him with a contemplative look on her face.
Dazai realized that he felt light all over. Not like any poison. As if he was glowing. He had to look down to check that his tail was still that, but it remained scaly and unchanged. He supposed it made sense that one form of magic might feel similar to another. Dazai waited, watching the expression on Shimizu’s face as she considered him. Finally, she spoke.
“You aren’t cursed, Dazai.”
Dazai stared at her numbly. “What?”
“There are traces of a curse in your blood, but anything substantial enough to affect your life was wiped away by some other act of magic.”
Dazai frowned.
Shimizu considered him. “How, exactly, did you become a mermaid?”
Dazai smirked. “Chuuya kissed me.”
“RESUSCITATED!”
“Whatever you say, Chibi.”
“I’M NOT THAT FUCKING SHORT! Not that height matters in the ocean, anyway. You only care cause ya were a human.”
“That explains it.” Dazai was still not a hundred percent on octopus facial expressions, but Shimizu had a knowing smile in her tone.
Dazai frowned. “The transformation broke my curse?” Was that possible?
“Don’t underestimate the power of true love’s kiss. If you were still cursed, this one,” Shimizu pointed a tentacle at Chuuya. “Would be long gone.”
To Dazai’s horror, he was definitely blushing now. “I—”
“Swim along now, you two. I expect you want to spend some time together, now that you don’t have to worry about Nakahara dropping dead.”
“As if I’d ever want to spend time with him.” Said the same Chuuya who had visited Dazai almost every day of his first stint in the Fae Liberation Agency’s fish tank.
“I, for one, would be perfectly happy to never see Chuuya again.” Said the same Dazai who had fought to stay alive for the first time ever when he realized that Chuuya would die to his ability if Dazai didn’t stay alive long enough to nullify it.
Shimizu smirked and shooed them out of her cave, telling them to come back some time for tea. It was odd; she hadn’t demanded any sort of payment. Good samaritans were so off-putting.
Dazai followed Chuuya through the kelp, neither of them saying a word. Eventually they reached another clearing. In this one, the sun reflected down upon a thousand shining shells and rocks, and tiny fishes swum like beads of silver through water clear as glass.
Dazai turned to Chuuya. His eyes were the color of the ocean, and shined brighter than any shell or stone.
Dazai leaned toward Chuuya, and Chuuya leaned toward Dazai. For the first time without fear, they kissed.