Chapter Text
Today’s shift has been more stressful than usual.
Chuuya’s had to carefully rearrange his face into something less venomous during the Executive meeting. Even on the best days, it’s already hard enough work to not give in to the urge to pummel Ace’s face in. It’d been especially harder earlier today, when the smarmy man had suggested using the local aquarium as a front to their businesses. Something about it being a crowded, family-friendly place meaning that it provides a good cover.
Of course, it’s one thing to have immediate allergy to the man’s suggestions, no matter their actual merit. But then, the bastard gave him a pointed stare throughout the entire time he’d been yapping about. Definitely picking a fight with him, alright.
He still resumes his weekly visits. Despite Dazai’s confidence and promises about escaping, he still is there nearly a year later. Some time between last weekend and today, the fishy bastard has been moved to a renovated place. There’s a bit more lighting from mounted spotlights aimed at the fake underwater cave. The glass has also been reinforced, thicker here compared to the cage that houses an actual shark.
“Fufufu, did you miss me, Chuuya?” It’s more visible recently: what seems to appear like tiny gills hugging the sides of the other’s pectorals. They flutter with the artificial waves, glowing a dull red. “I could feel your longing all the way here…”
“It’s a longing to strangle you,” is what he lobbies back using their telepathic bond. “The fuck have you been thinking, causing all this commotion?!”
Like always, Dazai places his palms over the glass, as though to cup Chuuya’s face through them. The scales on his hands look like gemstones, but Chuuya’s heard about how they’re actually rather sharp, able to slice through skin easily. And just as the giant fish does this seemingly ‘sweet’ motion, his tail swishes hard and hits one of the spotlights, darkening the place once more.
Chuuya’s lips twitch. “Pfft, acting cool, but that actually hurt, huh.”
The other’s grimace comes through their mind link. “It’s all according to plan, chibi.”
“Sure, whatever.” Non-committal. He’s been avoiding knowing the details of the other’s plans, because he truly doesn’t want to be implicated as an accomplice. He merely wants to be a bystander in all of this.
Knowing and pointed, “Ah, is that why you keep on going on weekly dates with me?”
“Your idea of dating really could use some work.”
“We communicate as we look at each other’s eyes lovingly,” is what Dazai says, laughing in obvious mockery. “Isn’t that a rather important part of dating?”
“Lovingly?!” Before he can stop himself, his hands are already itching to punch the fish. It takes great effort to lessen the strength at which he ends up slapping the glass.
Something that Dazai has been counting on, because he gently slides his scaly hands so that they’re matched together perfectly, as though they’re holding hands over the glass. Soft and smug in equal measures, “Yes, lovingly.”
He recoils at that, a disgusted expression on his face. He suddenly feels a bit too hot, like the airconditioner has stopped working without warning. “You are absolutely insufferable,” he says with great feeling.
Literally and figuratively. The move to this new cage is because Dazai has somehow shattered his previous one just by singing a song. Chuuya thinks that it’s justified—not even inanimate things such as glass could stand to listen to Dazai’s caterwauling about double suicides and eating tiny slugs. Of course, the aquarium staff only heard incomparably ugly noises, but is it really all that much of a trouble compared to actually understanding what the fish was singing about? No, Chuuya doesn’t think so.
“And to think, I’ve prepared a bunch of songs to serenade you with.”
Chuuya rolls his eyes and sends a mental middle finger to the other, before leaving as usual. If he protests against the other’s words, the fish would definitely claim that it means that he’s already been sufficiently wooed and doesn’t need further serenades. If he agrees, then it’d be an agreement that those god-awful songs do pass as serenades. A lose-lose situation for him. Better to just walk away.
Dazai laughs and the glass walls shudder in fright. “If you dislike being wooed by my songs, I could instead send you the bodies of the men hired by the Executive you hate?”
Ace’s obsession with jewels and with nefarious creatures that he fantasizes he could subdue are obvious to anyone who’s ever glanced at his weaselly face. It brings to mind the reason for his stressful shift the night before—Ace insisting that the Port Mafia owning the infamous merman would be a boost to their reputation and their cash flow.
Using shitty Dazai as a cash cow? Nothing is more laughable than that, but it’s not like Chuuya can just drop a bombshell of, “Actually, that idiot fish could open his mouth and destroy all of our ears in one go.” The repair bills to the building’s windows would be astronomical and that’s just bad business sense.
Eventually, he sends back a, “I don’t give a shit as to what you do, as long as you do it far, far away from me.”
Laughter is his only response.
-
So of course, he should have known that migraines would take up permanent residence in his head. His body clock is geared to follow a nighttime schedule due to his work, so he wakes up past sunset like usual.
Something unlike the usual: there are wet, slimy marks all over his bedroom carpet, nearly making him break his neck as he almost slips on one such slime patch. The marks start from the door and detours to his bed, to the closet, before going all the way to the bathroom.
Since he already has an inkling as to what kind of annoyance he’s going to find, he checks his closet first. If he finds out that his clothes and his hats have been shredded by the other’s hands, he’s really going to barbeque him, no questions asked. Thankfully, the only slimy trace is on the door handle, nothing on his clothes. He dials down the murderous intent by half a notch.
He makes a face when he notices the slimy traces all the way up his bedsheets, meaning that a certain fish has wiggled all over his bed. Probably even has tried to slobber all over his face, a giant fish with doggy instincts. He rubs his mouth, unsure whether he feels disappointment when he doesn’t find a trace of sliminess over his lips.
A deep breath. Two. He stomps towards his bathroom, slams open his door, then rolls his eyes heavenwards at the sight that greets him.
Dazai has made himself comfortable in the tub, filling it with water and the premium rose-scented bath bomb that he’s been reserving for relaxation after a truly grueling shift. The other’s tail gleams red, looking shinier compared to when he’s caged in the aquarium. He’s reclined against the tub, arms splayed out and rested on both sides, as though he’s an indolent king that’s just waiting for someone to sink into his embrace. Eyes closed, water droplets clinging to the turn of his nose and the swell of his lip. The gills on his sides flutter gently with each breath he takes.
“Stop pretending to be asleep, I’m going to pour boiling water over your tail,” Chuuya threatens, even as he approaches the tub and raises a foot so he can kick the other in the gills. “You know I’ve been reserving this bath bomb, damn it!”
Throughout the almost-year of knowing each other, their telepathy has grown to the point that things from their daily life is already part of their usual bickering.
“It’s not like you can’t buy another one,” Dazai murmurs as his eyes slowly open. “Plus, a reunion like this deserves the best kind of atmosphere, ne?”
Another kick. One hand wraps around his ankle, the supposedly-dangerous scales on that palm having sheathed their sharpness in exchange for a smooth finish. The hand directs his toes to rub against the fluttering skin, the action making it grow pinker as time goes by.
“…It feels so good, Chuuya,” is uttered with a blissful expression on the other’s face, cheeks flushed red.
“Bastard!” It takes him a few moments to parse through the other’s meaning. He dislodges his ankle from the fish’s grip, letting his foot kick the other’s chin instead. “You’re truly insufferable!”
Dazai dips his head down and kisses his toes, before sucking at them one by one. Letting the sharp teeth tease tearing open his skin.
He’s unimpressed, lips curling. He raises an eyebrow in challenge. One wrong move from this idiot and he’s going to send his neck flying.
Laughter all over the room, his mirrors and tiles vibrating. “Now, now, is that how you thank someone who has done you a favor by disposing of that Executive that you despise?”
After all, part of Port Mafia’s rules is that there’s no infighting between members, no matter how reprehensible they find each other. That’s not to say that there aren’t people who still try to toe the line between outright assassination plots, but Chuuya’s too much of a straightforward guy for that kind of scheming.
It’s not like he’s asked shitty Dazai to help him out in this regard, but it’s also undeniable that the giant fish has helped him out a lot. Then again, this kind of help comes with such a bad tradeoff, so to consider this a win on his end… also isn’t right.
“I haven’t grilled you yet for this stunt of breaking into my apartment and sliming up my bed.” He glares pointedly at where the other’s still kissing his feet. “That’s good enough a reward for the likes of you.”
“Oh, you always do say the most romantic of words,” Dazai simpers, and then drags him down to join him in the tub.
-
The next day, with his body still smarting from scratches doled out by scales, Chuuya rolls out of his apartment and into the Port Mafia headquarters for an emergency weekend meeting. His fingertips are hidden inside his gloves like always, so nobody could see the fact that they’re all wrinkled like prunes from staying too long in the water. His real thoughts are also hidden underneath the layer of disdain on his face when he hears the meeting agenda.
“So, Ace went ahead and tried to capture that merman on his own… and got killed in the process.” An indifferent glance at the photos of the aftermath. He doesn’t need to see them—Dazai’s generous enough to share these images to him using their telepathic link.
“It is such a shame,” Ane-san says lightly. She looks at him and raises an eyebrow to ask if it’s his doing. He shakes his head and echoes her sentiment. Everyone else in the meeting room repeats the phrase, as all of them have their misgivings about the fallen Executive’s existence. It is truly a shame that they aren’t the ones who are able to make him see his end.
“It’s also a shame that we aren’t able to get our hands on that merman,” Boss says with a rueful shake of his head. He doesn’t look accusingly at Chuuya.
After all, one of Dazai’s abilities as a merman is to be able to manipulate people using the sound of his voice. Follow his bidding so the headache from listening to him disappears. It’s easy to manipulate the staff in the aquarium into following his orders, there’s no need for Chuuya to come and help him escape. Not that he would have, even if the other grovelled, but it’s the principle of the thing.
And so, he doesn’t say anything like, “That shitty merman is a literal pain in the ass, it’s best that he stays far away from our organization.” Instead, he closes his eyes briefly, and imagines kicking the merman awake from the tub the moment he gets back home.
-
end