Chapter Text
A bright, blue light washes over Chuuya, pulling his consciousness out of the depths and placing it back on his own body. The cold rush of No Longer Human is present as always, but it doesn't bring him an ounce of the comfort he's come to expect from the ability. Chuuya's mind can barely catch up to the rapid rush of pain that floods every inch of his body, his nerves feel like they are on fire, and he can't bring himself to move under the nauseating burn.
Cold, trembling hands maneuver him into a secure hold against a firm chest. Each point of contact stings, but Chuuya appreciates the effort nonetheless, wishing he could negate the stiffness of his limbs and allow himself to sink completely into the familiar hold. He struggles to open his eyes, finding that half of his camp of vision is completely tinted by red, bringing Chuuya down to one functioning eye.
This one eye focuses on the face in front of him.
Dazai looks wrecked. It feels wrong, like Chuuya's witnessing something unnatural such as a flying fish. Flying mackerel. Chuuya frowns.
"Dazai—" he attempts to say something, but all he manages is the brunette's name before his mouth fills with blood and he falls into a long coughing fit. His throat is ruined beyond salvation, even if Chuuya recovered after today, he's not sure his voice would ever work like before again.
But Chuuya's not going to make it past today, is he?
He can feel Dazai's hand on his face, rough bandages wiping away the blood on his chin with heart-wrenching tenderness. He rubs his back until Chuuya stops coughing, and when the redhead looks up, he can see Dazai's mouth moving around words that he can't hear. Great, so his ears are probably fucked up too. Every sound is muffled like he's underwater, and there's a faint ringing far away that aggravates his headache.
Dazai's still talking, and though Chuuya feels like he was not meant to hear these words anyways, he feels like he should at least let him know he's talking to a wall right now. Chuuya doesn't attempt to speak again, knowing it would be fruitless, using his remaining strength to raise a hand towards Dazai, instead.
He touches Dazai's hand, the one that's still lingering on his face, and traces symbols that he knows Dazai will understand. The lack of hearing is not too much of a problem, the two of them have many ways to communicate with each other without using words.
"Can't hear you." Chuuya traces on the back of Dazai's hand.
Dazai snaps his mouth shut like he hadn't even realized words were tumbling out. Yeah, that's about what Chuuya expected. Dazai squeezes his eyes shut for a second, the arm around his shoulders tightening its hold. Chuuya sighs. Dazai's face still looks too bad. He makes to move towards the taller man, though he's not sure what exactly he was planning to do, he just knows he wants to wipe that grim look off his partner's face already.
Of course, the moment he makes the slightest movement, his whole body spasms in agony, and Chuuya lets out a whimper of pain that he's sure never came out of his mouth before in his life.
Dazai's face darkens, and he pulls Chuuya to sit more comfortably on top of him, laying his head against his chest. Chuuya's arm instinctually come up to hold his waist, and Dazai's hand returns to his face.
"Stop moving." he traces on Chuuya's cheek. "I already called for help."
Help?
Dazai's usually not one to deny reality. Chuuya looks up at Dazai like he's stupid, and hopes that his face can convey the pure disbelief he feels right now. The brown eyes that stare back at him are completely miserable. So he knows.
"It's okay." Chuuya's hand comes up to trace the words against his chest. Dazai's face crumples and he shakes his head, muttering something he can't hear once again. He tightens his hold on Chuuya, and it hurts but he can't bring himself to complain. It's not like he is going to have to deal with it for much longer.
He really doesn't like how Dazai looks right now. It frustrates him that he can't hear what Dazai is whispering so franctically, that he can't use his voice to tell him to shut up and offer comforting words. He can barely even move.
It's all he can do to bring his hand up to Dazai's nape and pull his head down, smacking their foreheads together softly. It serves to shut Dazai up, but then his dark eyes immediately grow wet with tears that Chuuya can feel falling on his own face.
His ungloved, tainted and bruised hands hold Dazai's face and wipe his tears away, even as more and more keep falling. He traces words and symbols against his cheek, just like Dazai did to Chuuya a few moments before.
"It's okay. Don't cry, it's okay."
Distantly, Chuuya thinks he should be more panicked at the sight of Dazai crying. He can't remember the last time he saw the man look so destroyed, let alone shed tears. But as it is, Chuuya can only feel himself growing more and more disconnected from his own body, limbs growing sluggish and eyes heavier.
He can't stop his eyes from closing, eventually.
His fingers on Dazai's face still, and very, very faintly, he can feel hands on his shoulders shaking him.
It's not too bad of a way to go.
Selfishly, Chuuya is glad he didn't die alone.
He only regrets that the last thing he saw was Dazai's desperate, inconsolable face.
Dazai looks at him now like he's about to pass out from shock.
Chuuya can relate to it.
What?
Chuuya's eyes scan the boy over and over again, because it can't actually be the same Dazai he knows, right?
But it clearly is. Not only does he look just like him, his presence feels exactly like it did before. Chuuya curses himself for not realizing sooner, why there was suddenly an aggravating shift in the air. It has Dazai written all over it!
Dazai gets up abruptly, startling Chuuya who had just been staring silently at him this whole time. Right, there were still people around. This must've been quite confusing and awkward for everyone else involved, but Chuuya can't bring himself to care too much considering the current situation.
He doesn't have much time to react before Dazai grabs his hand and looks over to Inko — his mother, Chuuya's brain catches up belatedly.
"I want to play with him!" Dazai asks — demands, really. The green-haired women seems completely caught off guard by this, mouth hanging open without a word. "Alone!"
He sounds every bit like a spoiled child, except that his grip on Chuuya's hand is so tight it hurts. Chuuya doesn't complain, because he's not sure what would come out of his mouth if he tried speaking right now, and in a way, he appreciates Dazai's effectiveness in getting them alone as soon as possible. He would also like to talk to him privately.
Inko blinks several times, incredulous like she's witnessing a miracle happening right in front of her. By her side, a small boy with similar green hair is also looking at them with a severely puzzled look on his face.
Inko gathers herself eventually, and as soon as she stutters out a confused authorization, Dazai is off, pulling Chuuya behind him carelessly. They practically sprint through the small appartment towards what he assumes is Dazai's bedroom, and as soon as they're inside, Dazai shuts the door.
"Dazai?" he questions the other boy, though he doesn't need confirmation at all.
And he doesn't get one.
Instead, he gets a small body thrown at him with full force, and Chuuya stumbles trying not to fall on his back. Dazai's arms are around him, squeezing with strength that a kid so scrawny really shouldn't have.
He's hugging him, Chuuya realizes.
Though he is aware of how unfamiliar this is — Chuuya can barely believe this is even happening right now, what the hell —, his arms come up to wrap around Dazai as well.
Even in different ages, different bodies, different lifes, they still fit together like they were made for each other. Chuuya buries his face on Dazai's shoulder, embarrassingly close to tears.
He really missed this. Missed Dazai.
Tension gradually leaves Dazai's body, as well. He practically melts into the hug, readjusting his arms to run his hands through Chuuya's hair, the motion so familiar that his throat tightens painfully and he squeezes his eyes shut.
After what felt like hours, but were probably only a few minutes in reality, he feels Dazai moving to put some distance between them. Chuuya thinks it's far too soon, but he lets Dazai separate them because they really do need to talk.
Instead, Dazai's hands come up to hold his face. Chuuya's face warms up, but before he can question him, he's being pulled closer. Quickly.
His forehead collides with Dazai's with a hard thud.
"Ow! What the hell shitty Dazai?!" Did this asshole just headbutt him?!
"You idiot!" Dazai's young, stern voice snaps back. Chuuya fixes him with a glare and is about to respond, but his words die in his throat as soon as he looks at him properly.
Dazai is crying.
His hands, that are now fisted on the front of Chuuya's shirt, are trembling as well.
Shit.
Unlike the last time he saw Dazai cry, a bad memory that leaves a bitter taste in his mouth, this time Chuuya is completely lucid, and thus aware of how inadequate he is to deal with Dazai crying. He's completely lost.
"Don't..." Reminiscent of the past, Chuuya's hands cradle Dazai's face and wipe his tears unsuccessfully. "Don't cry. It's okay."
"Stop saying that! No it's not." Even through tears, Dazai's glare is fierce.
"Huh?"
"It's not okay!" he shakes Chuuya's shoulders roughly. "How could you do that?"
This time, Chuuya can't stop the fight rising in him and answers angrily.
"Do what? Dying?! I wasn't planning on it!" Dazai flinches at the word and Chuuya feels a bit bad for it. He doesn't get to feel bad for too long though, because next thing he knows Dazai is lunging at him again and then they're on the ground squabbling like children.
"What the fuck is your problem!" Chuuya grits through his teeth, Dazai's hand pushing his face onto the carpeted ground, and Chuuya's trying to push Dazai away from him. He grabs the front of Dazai's shirt and pulls him down, turning their positions around, now with Chuuya sitting on top of him.
"You!" Dazai's voice cracks. "You left me!"
"Really?! You're saying that?!" he replies incredulous. Chuuya grabs his hands when they try to swing at him, but Dazai somehow managed to intertwine their fingers together, so now they're just pushing against each other's hands.
"That's different and you know it!" Dazai remarks.
Somehow, the stubborn idiot manages to switch their positions again. At this point, it's a blessing they didn't knock over anything, rolling over the floor like this. Chuuya ends up in a flimsy chokehold that he could get out of if he really tried, but damn it Dazai is a menace when he's determined. He reaches behind him to pull Dazai's cheeks and gets his fingers bitten.
"Ouch! Listen, i'm sorry!" Chuuya exclaims. Dazai freezes behind him, before wrapping his legs around Chuuya's torso to hold him even closer. In the back of his head, he thinks that Dazai really is clinging to him like an octopus right now.
"What??"
"I'm sorry!" he repeats.
"What???" Dazai repeats as well, clearly afflicted with some sort of hearing problem. "Are you apologizing for dying right now? Are you stupid?"
Chuuya gives up his struggle, accepting the fact he now has a mackerel-sized backpack, and basically lays down on top of Dazai.
"Asshole, were you not the one mad about that just now?"
"It's not- shut up." Dazai seems at a loss for words, the occurrence rare enough that Chuuya just stays silent and lets him gather his thoughts for a moment. Dazai's arms shift from a chokehold to more of a loose hug, enveloping Chuuya's shoulders more comfortably. Not that this position is any comfortable at all, Dazai's collarbones are bony and not suitable for a pillow.
"... I'm the one who should be apologizing." Dazai murmurs. Chuuya's eyes widen.
Dazai? Apologizing?
"... What for?" He inquires softly.
"I couldn't get to you in time. I'm sorry." Dazai buries his face in Chuuya's hair, inhaling deeply. "I'm so sorry." He breathes out.
Chuuya feels like he's in some sort of lucid dream, right now. But Dazai's hold on him is as real as it gets, and he can feel the rise and fall of the boy's chest with his breathing under him. Chuuya is struck speechless for a few seconds.
In a moment, Chuuya's hands come up to tug at Dazai's arms around his shoulders. Dazai hugs him tighter in protest.
"Oi. Look at me." He grumbles and tugs harder. Dazai relents and loosens his hold on the boy, settling his feet back on the floor, but otherwise not moving an inch. Chuuya doesn't put much distance between them, simply turning around and moving so he is face to face with Dazai, knees on both sides of his waist.
He frowns at the desolate look on Dazai's face. Chuuya feels a heavy, unpleasant feeling in his chest as he thinks over the words Dazai just said.
"What are you talking about? Didn't i already tell you it's okay?" He brushes Dazai's bangs off his forehead and pinches his cheek. They're still wet with tears from earlier, but at least Dazai's stopped crying, now. "I never blamed you for that."
"Of course you don't, Chuuya forgives far too easily... But that doesn't mean it wasn't my fault."
"The hell? Don't tell me you've blamed yourself for my death all this time. You did your part, you nullified corruption, you even called for help. It's not like you killed me, don't give yourself too much credit."
Dazai wasn't taking the bait, neither was he listening to Chuuya properly. His gaze was vacant like he was somewhere else. Chuuya pinched him harder.
"Listen."
Dazai winced at the grip in his cheek and batted his hand away. He pushes himself up to a sitting position, Chuuya still straddling him, and finally sets his eyes on his again.
"I'm here right now, aren't I?" Chuuya asked, though it sounded more like a statement. Dazai frowns, but nods in response. "And I've already forgiven you, did I not?"
Dazai's face falls even more. "Yeah, but—"
"Shut up! You apologized, I forgave you, and I'm here, alive, right in front of you. If you still feel so guilty, then make it up to me. Stop moping, it won't get you anywhere."
Dazai stares at him blankly. But Chuuya knows him. He's actually thinking about what he said, now. Chuuya knows the other hates it when he's objectively right — "which Chuuya rarely is!" Nags a suspiciously Dazai-like voice in the back of his head.
Chuuya can't help Dazai when he is like this. He needs to get him out of his own head first, otherwise Dazai's depressing thoughts would drag him into an endless spiral.
Eventually, Dazai sighs and runs a hand over his face.
"You're still such a simpleton, aren't you, Chuuya?" He looks up at the redhead with a soft smile. "I don't get it. How can you be so unbothered by your own death?"
"Well, it's not that I don't care. I do care, I'm not suicidal." Dazai has the audacity to raise an eyebrow at this. He gets a smack on the head for it. "I'm not! It's just that—
"I kind of always knew I was going to die using corruption." Dazai's eyes widen but Chuuya cuts him off before he can say anything. "Don't get me wrong, i never doubted you. But no matter how much you like to pretend it does, the world doesn't revolve around your predictions. One day, something was bound to go wrong. I knew of that risk every time i activated corruption."
Chuuya opens his mouth to continue, but cuts himself short. If he said something like that... it would be a bit too obvious. Chuuya's not so eager to ruin what they have, when they just found each other again. He continues with a rewording of what he wanted to say originally.
"In the end, i was just glad you got to me before i died out of my own mind."
He stares deeply into Dazai's unwavering gaze. Those warm, brown eyes look at him like he can't afford to miss any detail, and Chuuya knows that, as always, Dazai knows exactly what is going on inside his head.
Death was a topic that came up frequently in the mafia, especially when your partner was someone like Dazai Osamu. They've talked about it, before. Not in an offhand or apathetic way, like what was probably expected from two people that hated each other so much, and supposedly only worked together out of obligation.
They actually talked about it. In one of those late night, quiet conversations that none of them would mention again later, under an unspoken agreement that vulnerability like that should not allowed in the mafia.
"I'm not afraid of death. But i'm... I don't want to die alone." Chuuya had whispered hesitantly in the silence of the night.
"You won't." Dazai promised eagerly. Of course, he followed it up with a logical explanation about how unprobable it is that Chuuya would die alone, considering they're together in every mission and basically glued to each other every other time. But what stuck with Chuuya is how fast he was to reply, initially. It was rare of Dazai to comfort him so directly like that.
No matter how the two of them pretended that conversation never happened, in the morning, Chuuya knew Dazai remembered. And he was sure Dazai knew what he truly meant, just now.
I'm glad you were there.
Chuuya hopes that's as deep as Dazai's reading can go, though. He's endlessly glad that the brunette doesn't actually have a mind-reading ability, otherwise he'd know all sort of embarrassing things going on in Chuuya's head.
Things like I'm happy i died in your arms. You got to fulfill your promise, and i got to hold the man i love during my last moments.
Yes, it would be terrible if Dazai could read minds, Chuuya repressed a shudder at the thought.
Dazai was smiling again when he answered, reaching to hold a lock of Chuuya's hair and twirl it around his finger. "You knew you would die by corruption, and still you trusted me with your life like that? I'm so touched i could cry."
Chuuya very graciously did not mention that Dazai did indeed cry, a few minutes ago.
"Yeah, yeah, don't let it get to your head." Chuuya said without a hint of malice in his voice. He moved to put some distance between them — he's in the guy's lap, for fucks sake, how did he end up here — but Dazai stubbornly pulled him back with an arm around his waist.
Chuuya narrowed his eyes at him, as if to say really?
Yes, really, Dazai's innocent smile answered.
"Let's at least get off the floor, dumbass." Chuuya acquiesced, frowning. Dazai cheerfully complied, pulling Chuuya to the bed on the right side of the room, immediately laying down by his side and wrapping his arms around the ginger like an octopus.
Now that Chuuya has some time to look around, he thinks that Dazai's room is somewhat both funny and depressing at the same time. Half of the room is evidently his brother's side — Chuuya can't remember his name very well, right now — and it was completely covered in heroes merch. Mostly All Might. Actually, there are very few of heroes that are not All Might. In contrast, Dazai's side of the room is painfully bare. Chuuya can see there was some effort, probably from Dazai's mother, to decorate his side as well, but nothing seems like it actually belongs to Dazai. It's just boring, generic decorations.
It brings Chuuya a weird feeling. He's reminded of the time Dazai used to live in a shipping container, before he eventually moved to Chuuya's penthouse. The man had basically no personal belongings, nothing of personal value. It was actually sad to see. But Chuuya also remembers, from the very few times he visited Dazai's dorm in the Armed Detective Agency — not because he was worried or anything —, that things had changed in the four years they spent separate.
Not to say that Dazai's dorm was the coziest he'd ever seen, but it actually felt lived in. Like someone did sleep and wake up there every day. So Chuuya thought Dazai was doing better. Joining the agency obviously did him good, so why is it that now...
Wait.
Why is Dazai here at all?
Chuuya breaks out of his musing and looks back to Dazai, who had apparently been watching him silently this whole time. Okay. Creep.
"Dazai..." Chuuya started in a questioning tone, continuing only after he heard Dazai's responding hum. "How did you even end up here?"
Dazai hesitates at the question. It's only for a split second, but Chuuya knows every one of Dazai's expressions, baby face or not. Regardless of it, Dazai answers plainly:
"Well, i died, of course."
Right.
Obviously.
It's an answer Chuuya expected, but one he's not happy to hear nonetheless.
Because he knows very well that it's practically impossible to kill Dazai. The man's like a cockroach when it comes to avoiding death. No one's able to catch him truly off guard, and he has an escape plan for every inconvenient situation under the sun. Dazai won't get captured unless he allows himself to be, and he definitely won't get murdered, unless he...
Unless it's by his own hands.
He won't ask if Dazai commited suicide, because the answer's obvious. There is another question though, one Chuuya is not so sure he'd like to hear the answer to, but that he asks anyways.
"Was it because i died?"
(Dazai's silence is answer enough.
He could very well avoid this question. Say something like "of course, without Chuuya bothering me, i was finally able to find a beautiful lady and commit a peaceful double suicide!", or paint Chuuya as selfish and self-centered for thinking he is so important for Dazai.
Lie, and lie, and avoid addressing any feelings at all. Hurt them and make them hate you, because it's better than being vulnerable and dealing with the consequences. It's like second nature to Dazai.
But...
He can't do that to Chuuya anymore.
Not when Chuuya looks so beautiful and trusting in his arms. Forgiving Dazai so easily even if he was the reason for his death, looking at him with those deep, blue eyes that Dazai's dreamed of drowning in so many times before. Warm and solid, breathing. Alive.
Alive.
Dazai can't bring himself to push Chuuya away. He doesn't want to have to go a day without Chuuya ever again.
'It is a given that anything worth wanting will be lost the moment i obtain it. There is nothing worth pursuing at the cost of prolonguing a life of suffering.'
It is the philosophy Dazai had revolved his whole life around, in the past. It never failed to apply to him. It was further solidified when Odasaku died. It is what led him to keep everyone at arms length, hiding under layers and layers of masks because in the end, none of it would matter.
Except that Dazai never had Chuuya, yet he lost him anyways.
Dazai has so many regrets when it comes to Chuuya, but most of all, he regrets never letting the man know how important he is to him. Chuuya might think he has some idea, but it's impossible. It's impossible to grasp the depths of his obsession for the redhead, to know how much space he takes in Dazai's mind; that since they met, there has never been a day where he hadn't fantasized about him, his gloved hands, his fiery hair, his piercing eyes, his freckled cheeks...
He had no way of knowing that even when Dazai abandoned the mafia, he couldn't abandon Chuuya. He'd go insane from withdraw. So, everyday for four years, he checked up on Chuuya through the many bugs, trackers and cameras that he'd hidden in Chuuya's clothes and penthouse. The ones he was sure Chuuya knew of, but never bothered to remove.
Oh, Chuuya.
How Dazai loves him.
If none of Dazai's attempts at keeping him at a safe distance were enough to keep him alive, then Dazai won't waste his time with them anymore. Won't pretend he's not a selfish man.
He could say that Chuuya had nothing to do with his death, but there's no longer a reason to avoid his feelings. The truth is that without Chuuya, everything feels pointless, so he won't risk losing him anymore.
Chuuya is asking him, so he can get an answer. Chuuya can have anything he wants to. As long as Dazai can have Chuuya.)
Chuuya is unsure of how surprised he should be at the revelation.
In hindsight, it shouldn't be so unexpected. He should have at least considered the possibility, he spent a lot of time wondering what happened to everyone after his death. Chuuya had reached the conclusion that some people would be sad, of course, he would be grieved for, and his loss would be unfavorable for the mafia, but ultimately everyone would move on.
He might have considered, once or twice, that Dazai would probably be the one most affected by his death, along with Ane-san. For all they joked about celebrating and wishing for each other's demise, Chuuya knew that their partnership was somewhat important for Dazai, or at least it was, at some point.
But after four years, Chuuya certainly hadn't thought that Dazai would care this much. The man seemed much happier — healthier when they were separated, so clearly he could live without him.
He was wrong, apparently?
Dazai is still staring at him. Chuuya is not sure what kind of expression he, himself, is wearing right now, but Dazai looks somewhat sadistically satisfied by it.
"Is Chuuya going to mourn me?" Dazai rubs his head against his chest like a cat looking for affection. "I'm right here, though. Shouldn't you be paying attention to me, instead?"
"... Don't use my own logic against me." Chuuya hugs Dazai's head close, still shaken.
"Don't waste too much time thinking about it. It won't happen again." His voice is muffled on Chuuya's shirt.
"What?" Did he hear that wrong?
"It won't happen again." Dazai repeats, relaxed.
"... What??" Oh god, is Dazai's hearing problem contagious? The brunette seems very patient when he explains himself, though.
"I won't kill myself."
Despite the outlandish words, considering who they were coming from, Dazai's eyes are honest when he looks up at Chuuya, chin digging against his sternum. Chuuya is almost breathless from shock. He's sure his face must look ridiculous right now, but he can't care about that.
"Why?" What changed?
"Why would i? Just to wake up in another life again, without Chuuya? I'd rather not."
What a simple logic.
And is that not, in a way, what Chuuya has craved to hear so much? When he spent the whole night awake wrapping Dazai's bandages and cleaning his bloodied bathroom; when he had to shove his fingers down Dazai's throat and force him to empty his stomach in the toilet; when he had to drag Dazai's soaked, cold body back home after fishing him from another river; when he could no longer do any of these things so he drank until he passed out so he wasn't worrying over whether Dazai had finally managed to kill himself;
Didn't he hope so deeply that Dazai would just stop? Didn't he wish so much that he could be enough for him?
And now Dazai's telling him that he is.
His eyes sting all of a sudden. Dazai does not mention it, content in clinging to Chuuya as if he's trying to steal all his warmth to himself. If he hears any sniffing above him, he does not acknowledge it, tangling his hands in Chuuya's long hair, a look that is still novel to him.
The two kids lay there silently, enough words exchanged for the day. If Dazai was to be believed, they'd have the rest of their lives to catch up with each other.
Mitsuki knocks on the door with a cutesy label reading "Izuku & Osamu". It's been a while since the two kids disappeared to the bedroom. Mitsuki was not expecting the visit to go this way, but Inko seemed so emotional over the fact Osamu finally seemed excited to socialize with another kid that Mitsuki decided she would let the two of them have some time alone.
That was almost two hours ago, though.
"Chuuya?" She calls, and goes to open the door. "It's time to go, say bye to your friend..."
She freezes at the sight that meets her.
On the right bed of the room, two figures snuggle so closely they might as well be one. Chuuya and Osamu are fast asleep, cuddling like they're each other's favorite plushie.
"Oh, isn't that cute?" And unexpected.
Mitsuki snaps a picture and makes a mental note to send it to Inko later. They look so comfortable she almost doesn't want to wake them up. But Chuuya really does have to go.
Osamu clings to Chuuya and whines all the way to the front door, stubbornly refusing to let the redhead leave. The Bakugos are already out of the apartment, otherwise the hallway would get a bit crowded, but everyone watches the scene with varying levels of amusement.
Inko in particular looks like she is about to pass out from both happiness and confusion at once.
"Let me go, mackerel!" Chuuya shrieks.
"I don't want tooooo~" Osamu complains dramatically. "We just met and you're already leaving me?!"
"Huh?! Who's leaving you, dumbass?!"
"So you'll come back?"
"Obviously!"
"When?" Osamu stops tugging and brings his face closer to Chuuya's, serious all of a sudden.
"... As soon as i can."
"That's so vague. How do i know you're not going to disappear as soon as you're out of sight?"
Chuuya stops at that, suddenly looking very affectionately at Osamu.
And then everyone watches in shock as Chuuya's palm connects to Osamu's cheek in a loud slap before any of them can react. Chuuya does so very calmly, as if it is completely normal, and then cups Osamu's reddening cheek kindly, staring at the boy's wide eyes with a tender look.
"I'll be back before the mark fades." And then, very softly so only Osamu can hear him. "Until then, you can feel it as a guarantee i'm real."
No one says a word. And then:
"Ah. Chuuya is such a romantic." Osamu sighs in wonder.
Chuuya's face goes as red as his hair and he's out of there as soon as he can, now that Osamu is no longer holding him. His new family is very confused, and maybe a bit concerned.
On the ride back home, Katsuki stares intently at Chuuya, like he's searching for something. It's unnerving because the blonde boy is usually never this quiet, especially recently when it comes to his new brother, so Chuuya breaks and asks already:
"What are you looking at?"
Katsuki, for some reason, seems embarrassed that he was called out for staring. Did he think he was being subtle or something? He gets over it quickly though.
"That guy..." Katsuki starts hesitantly, very out of character. "Deku's brother, did he do something to you?"
"... Like what?" Chuuya asks, confused.
"Did he threaten you or sum'?" Katsuki grumbled.
"Huh? No! Why the hell would you think that?"
"No reason! Shut up and die!" He snaps. Right, this is the Katsuki he's used to.