Chapter Text
To say Dazai ‘woke up’ would make it sound too peaceful. No. To say Dazai was ripped from the //blissful cousin of death// to the wonderfully overstimulating CACOPHONY of his face screaming, Chuuya screeching somewhere from the kitchen for him to wake up, the feeling of dried blood on his face, light beaming in and assaulting his eyes, one of which was already sensitive- would be more accurate.
//Too bad he didn’t just choke on the blood in his sleep and never have to wake to this cruel world again…//
Dazai groaned and tried to reject consciousness as a whole. Rolling over and burying his face in the pillow- only to recoil as his nose reminded him it was broken with a sharp jolt of pain.
Thanks Chibi…
Alright- so it’s PROBABLY time to get up. Dazai sighed as he swung his legs over the side of the bed, and tried to shield his poor right eye from the light’s cruel assault of burning knives- and was greeting instead by the Chibi’s persistent yapping the second he opened the bedroom door.
“ABOUT TIME, MACKERAL- go clean yourself up, you look like you got run over with a bulldozer and we have a meeting with the boss in a couple hours that you could, at least TRY, to look presentable for. Breakfast’ll be ready in five.” Chuuya grumbled, but Dazai cocked his head curiously. Chuuya had a hand protectively pressed against his ribs…
“What happened? Did Chibi run into a problem on a mission?” Dazai asked, innocently.
“YOU THREW ME INTO A COUCH- THAT’S WHAT HAPPENED!” Chuuya snapped- wincing when the outburst agitated his bruised rib.
“Oooooh~~ I did do that, didn’t I?” Dazai smiled- with zero remorse.
“WHY YOU-” Chuuya tried to hit him, Dazai ducked and quickly backed into the direction of the bathroom, locking the door behind him.
After a quick look in the mirror he realized he… actually did look… pretty bad. Currently sporting a black eye, and blood smeared on his face from his nose which was probably broken… thanks Chibi. Dazai sighed and started getting ready for a shower- it seems Chuuya had already left a clean suit neatly folded on the closed toilet seat for him.
The warm water was two sides of the same coin, it felt both freeing and cruel. A rose coated in poison~ His nose and the rest of him relished in it- but his black eye decided to make it everyone’s problem that it was the out-lyer and didn’t appreciate the heat. Well… it’s not like he’s any stranger to pain. ~//Sometimes he causes it-//~, he’s just rehearsing his dramatics for later. As he scrubbed the dried blood off his skin, the water turned pink… then red… that’s actually a lot of blood- then pink, and finally, clear again. As he worked the knots and grease out of his hair, he’s realized he’s actually not sure when the last time he showered was, busy saving the world and everything. (Excuses, excuses-) and by the end of it, he had to admit he felt a lot better. He grabbed one of the obnoxiously fluffy (but admittedly soft…) towels and dried himself off, then threw on the black dress pants, having to cinch the belt a little tighter than usual… he decided not to linger on it too much, he hadn’t exactly eaten much recently, what with Mersault, and the mess at the airport. Also- that poison Nikolai gave him had him nauseous for a couple days even after he took the antidote. //But it was so exhilarating, if only it’d taken him, instead of Fyodor. Then he wouldn’t have to deal with this agonizingly boring political mess. It was a shame, really. Such a beautiful substance being wasted on the anemic rat who didn’t even have the courtesy to stay dead. It’s splendors would have been much better spent on him, he’s craved escape for as long as he can remember pursuing it endlessly. Mori promised him, years ago, that he’d assist him in a painless death. But he’s long since decided that was most definitely a lie, meant to control him. Honestly, he was stupid to ever believe Mori would let such a valuable player slip off the board peacefully.// He slipped into the white button up, the material a lot softer and silkier than what he normally wore during his time with the agency. Too bad it’ll be thrashed and stained in blood by the end of the week. He finishes buttoning it up, then grabbed a couple rolls of gauze out from under the sink from where he knew Chuuya kept some specifically for him. He looked down at his arms… frowning softly.. Then, in his most annoying voice possible called out:
“OOOOOHHH CHIBIII~~~~~~” The effect was immediate. A VERY angry yell from the kitchen… Dazai opened the door and poked his head out, with a ‘totally innocent’ expression, holding the rolls of gauze like they could excuse murder, if needed. Chuuya looked at him for a moment with the most dumbfounded, are-you-serious?? Expression, before he relented… sighing, and stalking over to snatch the gauze out of Dazai’s hand.
“Roll up your sleeves..” Chuuya grumbled. Dazai did so, happily humming as Chuuya expertly and neatly wrapped his arms, and neck. Could Dazai do his neck by himself? Yes. //But Chuuya’s also seen him try to strangle himself doing so. Chuuya, for obvious reasons, doesn’t trust him to do that part anymore.// And the idiot can’t bandage his own arms so- wait a minute… HOW’D HE DO THEM FOR THE FOUR YEARS HE WAS IN THE AGENCY?!
Correction. Dazai learned how to bandage his own arms. He just prefers to make Chuuya do it. Mackerel. Chuuya finishes with an irritated “tch”, as he pushes past Dazai to grab the tie that’s still sitting on the toilet seat, beating Dazai to the chase before he can get another chance to be overly dramatic and SO. FRICKING ANNOYING- This one he knows Dazai still actually can’t do- because when he left the Port Mafia… he conveniently stopped wearing ties. Altogether. After wearing them everyday for almost six years straight. The only time he’s seen Dazai in a tie since, was during the Dead Apple incident, and he DEFINITELY didn’t tie that himself. Either he had Mori help him before he left for the floating castle, or it was one of those pre-tied ones. Because the agency sure didn’t help him- considering they didn’t even KNOW he was going undercover. Worthless excuse for colleagues. Oh… there was also that cruise… Yosano or Atsushi probably tied it for him, that time. He finishes the tie, and his gaze drifts upwards to Dazai’s mess of damp hair. MUST HE DO EVERYTHING-?!
“Sit.” Chuuya growls, grabbing a brush and comb. Which is apparently the equivalent of a death threat considering the HORRIFIED. NOISE. Dazai made- as he tried to pull one of his disappearing acts and bolt towards the hallway- Chuuya swears he must be part raccoon. He shoots out a hand and grabs the back of his shirt- scruffing him like an alley cat, and drags him over to the couch.
“NO- CHIBI- PLEASE. I WON’T THROW YOU INTO THE COUCH FOR THREE WHOLE HOURS- ANYTHING BUT THIS- PLEASE-” Dazai whined. You’d think the man was being dragged to his execution- not having the unruly mop that looks like an electrocuted puffball that he calls hair tamed for once. Chuuya grabbed a handful of hair- FORCING Dazai’s head to face straight ahead.
“I said sit. Still. Don’t make this worse.” Chuuya growled- before attempting to brush it out. Yes, he knows it’ll fluff back up once it dries. But at least he can say he TRIED-
Chuuya had tried to use hair gel when they were younger. It ended with Dazai claiming it as an act of treason, curled up in a corner dramatically. Chuuya screaming into a pillow. And Kouyou gently rubbing circles on Chuuya’s back as she gently suggested that next time… maybe just stick to brushing out the knots. You know, picking your battles.
Dazai proceeded to hiss at containers of hair gel every time he saw them- even just walking through the grocery store, he’d look like it personally insulted his entire bloodline.
Dazai whined and complained the ENTIRE TIME- but by the time Chuuya was done it looked… slightly less offensive.
“You know we’re going to see the boss, right? You can’t look like a raccoon that just crawled out of a dumpster fire.” Chuuya grumbled. Standing up, grabbing a black suit jacket, and throwing it at him. It hit Dazai square in the face and he fell onto his back with a muffled OMMPFTH-
“Awwww, but Chuuuyyaaaaa, looking feral is part of my charm!” Dazai whined, which was met by Chuuya walking out and slamming the door behind him.
—
Chuuya should have known something was wrong when Dazai suggested they walk to the Port Mafia. He really should have known something was wrong when Dazai didn’t make a single poking jab about his height the entire walk there. But he didn’t notice.
And now they’re standing in the boss’s office, and it finally hits him: Dazai’s nervous.
“Boys, how lovely to see you both could make it. I have a small request for you two.” Mori said with a saccharine smile.