Work Text:
Lately, Chuuya was used to waking up with the sun. He was used to waking up to light streaming into his eyes from blinds that had been opened mere minutes prior. He was used to waking up to a hand lightly gripping the side of his arm while soft lips trailed his shoulder. He was used to waking up to a warm body right next to him.
Today, he woke up to none of that.
His body’s internal clock forced him awake despite that his senses told him it wasn’t time. The room was still dark. The blinds weren’t open. There was no hand on his arm. No lips on his shoulder. No warm body beside him.
He pursed his lips, not opening his eyes yet. Perhaps he had simply woken up before Dazai had opened the blinds, like he did every morning. Dazai was opening them now, probably. A few seconds more and a waterfall of sunlight would cascade into the bedroom. A few seconds more and Dazai would lie beside him once again. A few seconds more and Chuuya would open his eyes when he felt Dazai’s lips on his skin.
A few seconds more, and the room was still dark.
Chuuya shifted so that he was lying on his back and threw his arm out to Dazai’s side of the bed, but it hit the mattress instead of his fiancé. Reluctantly, he opened his bleary, tired eyes and let his head fall to the side so that he could look beside him. Dazai wasn’t there; not in the bed and not by the window. The blinds were still closed.
Chuuya sat up and looked around the room, rubbing one eye at a time to clear them while still having at least some visual of his surroundings. The sun was definitely up, Chuuya could tell that much through the small light that was coming through the slits in between the blinds. But they weren’t open. And Dazai wasn’t in bed. And Chuuya had woken up without him.
His lips still pursed, Chuuya slipped out of bed and walked to the bedroom door. It wasn’t closed all the way--it never was, in case Shuuji needed something in the middle of the night--so Chuuya easily pulled it open and stepped into the hallway, then walked to the living room to see if he could find Dazai. But Dazai was nowhere to be found.
Chuuya searched the living room, the kitchen, and the bedroom for any sign of where Dazai had gone to. Any note that he might have left. Anything that would indicate where he was or when he would be back. But he found nothing.
When he had given up, he sat down on his bed again and picked his cellphone up off his nightstand. Dazai’s phone was missing from his nightstand. The charger was, too. Chuuya called him, but after ringing for a minute, the call went to voicemail.
Chuuya sighed. “Hey, Osamu, where are you? You didn’t tell me you’d be leaving this morning… Call me when you get a chance, okay? Love you.”
He hung up the phone.
Just then, the bedroom door began to creak. Chuuya put his phone down on the nightstand and turned his head to the door. A small blue eye partially covered by bouncy chocolate locks peeked out behind fingers that were wrapped around the edge of the door. Chuuya smiled softly at the child.
“What’s up, baby?”
Shuuji pushed the door all the way open and stood in the doorway. “Daddy, I’m hungry. Are you gonna make breakfast…?”
“Oh, yeah, of course,” Chuuya said, standing up from the bed. It was half an hour past when Dazai normally would have woken him up. Twenty minutes past when they would have gotten Shuuji up together. The boy was probably starving by now.
“Sorry, Daddy woke up late.” He walked over to the boy and picked him up, situating the child on his hip. “What do you want to eat, baby?”
“You and Dad are gonna make pancakes and smoothies, right? It’s your day off.”
“Oh,” Chuuya said, suddenly remembering that yes, both he and Dazai had the day off from work today. They should have been working on pancake batter already. But Chuuya didn’t have any clue where Dazai was, and neither did Shuuji.
“Uh, Dad is out this morning, baby. He can’t help me make breakfast today.”
Shuuji frowned. “Where is he? He didn’t say he wasn’t gonna be here today…”
“I… I don’t know where he is, baby. He’s just out right now.”
“When is he coming home?”
“I… don’t know that, either,” Chuuya said.
Upon first realizing that Dazai wasn’t in the apartment, Chuuya was more confused than anything. Now, he was getting worried, and it was showing in his tone. But he didn’t need Shuuji to know that. He didn’t need Shuuji to worry, too. He had to say something to change the mood.
“But I can still make pancakes and smoothies if you want, baby. We can save some for Dad, he’ll eat them when he gets back.”
Shuuji shook his head. “No, if you and Dad don’t make them together, I don’t want them,” he said, and he was very clearly disappointed.
Chuuya frowned. He needed to find another way to cheer Shuuji up. “Then what do you want to eat, baby?”
“Eggs and rice, I guess…”
Chuuya kissed Shuuji’s hair. “I’m sorry that Dad isn't here, baby. I’ll talk to him about this when he gets back,” he said in a voice that was playfully stern.
“Okay,” Shuuji said. “But Daddy?”
“Yes, baby?”
“Don’t yell at Dad when he gets home. I don't like it when you fight.”
Chuuya’s lips twitched as guilt flooded his veins. He loved Dazai, but fighting with the man was as normal as getting dressed in the morning. He didn’t realize how often he really did it. He didn’t realize how upset it made Shuuji.
“Okay, I won’t yell at him, I promise,” he said, then pulled Shuuji off of his hip and set the child down on the floor. “Now go sit at the table. I’ll make breakfast for you.”
Shuuji smiled at him. “Okay, Daddy!” Then, he ran to the kitchen table as fast as his tiny legs would carry him and pulled himself into one of the chairs.
Chuuya shook his head and smiled, laughing quietly. He was glad that Shuuji had only just turned five years old. The simplest promises could make five-year-olds forget their worries and become happy and bubbly once again. With the kind of dysfunctional parents that Shuuji had, that was a very important trait.
“Alright, eggs and rice coming up,” Chuuya said, then hopped into the kitchen to start making breakfast for Shuuji and himself.
An hour passed and Dazai hadn’t come home, nor had he called Chuuya back. Shuuji was watching TV in the living room, lying on the couch with his thumb in his mouth. Chuuya had just finished cleaning the kitchen after breakfast. It was time to call Dazai again.
He walked back to the bedroom to grab his phone and call Dazai, but again, Dazai didn’t answer. Chuuya didn’t leave a voicemail this time. Instead, he sent a text.
[Chuuya]: Can you please call me back? I’m getting worried.
He sighed and stared at the screen for a few minutes, waiting to see if Dazai would text back, but he didn’t. With another sigh, Chuuya locked his phone and made to set it back on the nightstand, but he hesitated. If Dazai wasn’t answering his phone, maybe there was someone else he could call to find out where Dazai was.
He had Kunikida’s number now. And everyone else’s. After leaving the mafia to live a safer life with Shuuji and Dazai, Chuuya joined the Detective Agency. The people there cared about Chuuya, and they loved Shuuji, and if anyone knew where Dazai was, it would be one of them.
He pulled his phone back up, unlocked it, and called Kunikida’s number. The phone rang a few times, but to Chuuya’s relief, the blond-haired man actually answered. “Nakahara?”
“Hey, Kunikida,” Chuuya greeted shortly. “I have a question. Did Dazai come into work this morning?”
“No, he hasn’t been here this morning. Why?” Kunikida asked.
Chuuya sighed once more. “He… uh, he left the apartment before I woke up this morning, but I don’t know where he is. He’s not answering his phone. I figured that maybe you guys had called him into work or something this morning.”
“No, we didn’t call him into work.”
“Well, do you have any idea where he might be…?”
“No, I don’t,” Kunikida said bluntly.
“Oh… Okay,” Chuuya murmured, his tone clouded with worry and disappointment.
“Nakahara, don’t worry about him,” Kunikida said, picking up on Chuuya’s feelings and wanting to reassure him somehow. “He’ll turn up by the end of the day. If I hear anything from him, I’ll let you know.”
Chuuya smiled weakly. “Thank you, Kunikida. I appreciate it.”
“Of course,” Kunikida replied, then hung up the phone.
But as the day wore on, there was still no sign of Dazai. No calls or texts. Nothing from Kunikida. Nothing from anyone else.
It was nine o’clock, which was when Chuuya and Dazai normally prepared Shuuji to go to bed. Chuuya waited until 9:15 to tell Shuuji that it was time to sleep, wanting to give Dazai a chance to walk through the door in time to help with the ritual. But he didn’t, and Shuuji was getting tired, and Chuuya wouldn’t allow him to stay up any later.
“Shuuji, it’s time for bed.”
Shuuji looked up from the pile of cars that he was playing with, and Chuuya could tell immediately that he wasn’t happy. “But Dad isn’t home yet! We can’t go to bed without Dad! He has to do ‘Jugemu’ with us! He’ll be sad if we do it without him…”
As part of a bedtime ritual, Chuuya and Dazai worked together to recite the old Rakugo story “Jugemu” to Shuuji, or sometimes he would try to tell it to them. At the end of the story, the three of them would sing the chant of Jugemu’s full name together. Since Dazai had started doing it with them, Shuuji wouldn’t go to sleep until Dazai was home, afraid that Dazai would feel left out and be upset if he found out they did it without him. Sometimes that meant staying up half an hour late waiting for Dazai to get back from work. Tonight, Chuuya knew it would mean staying up all night.
“Okay, how about this,” Chuuya began after a moment of thinking, “go brush your teeth and put your jammies on, then you can lay on the couch with me and watch TV until Dad gets home.”
Chuuya made it seem as though Shuuji would get to hear “Jugemu” from Dazai tonight, knowing that the child would refuse to do it with just him and Chuuya, like he had refused the pancakes this morning. The reality was that Chuuya would have Shuuji lay in his lap with all the lights out and the TV volume low so that Shuuji would fall asleep. It was a break in their ritual that Chuuya was sure Shuuji would be upset about in the morning, but he didn’t know how to tell Shuuji that Dazai wouldn’t be home tonight.
Shuuji smiled at the suggestion, still blissfully unaware of all that his Daddy was thinking. “Okay!” he exclaimed, then stood up from his pile of cars and ran to the bathroom.
“Put your toys away, too!” Chuuya called after him.
Shuuji ran back from the bathroom, picked up his cars, and dashed to his bedroom to put them away and change into his pajamas before he finally returned to the bathroom to brush his teeth. He came back a few minutes later and hurled himself onto the couch, sitting next to Chuuya. Chuuya ruffled Shuuji’s hair before getting up to turn off the lights, then sat next to Shuuji again. Shuuji instantly laid down on the couch with his head in Chuuya’s lap.
“What do you wanna watch, baby?” Chuuya asked him.
“Transformers,” Shuuji replied.
“You got it,” Chuuya said, then flipped through Netflix until he found his son’s favorite show. He turned it on and let the episode play.
After an episode and a half, Shuuji finally fell asleep. Chuuya turned the TV off and carefully lifted Shuuji up, then carried him to bed and tucked him in. Fortunately, Shuuji was a sound sleeper, and he didn’t so much as stir when Chuuya moved him.
With Shuuji in bed, Chuuya decided to make two last calls before he went to bed himself. One to Dazai and one to Kunikida. Dazai didn’t answer. Chuuya left him another voicemail.
“Dazai, you’re working my last nerve. Where the hell are you? You left without saying anything, you haven’t answered your phone, you--”
He sucked in a breath as he was hit with a very painful case of déjà vu.
“Just call me back, fucker. And don’t do shit like this again.”
He hung up the phone very angrily and had to take a moment to calm himself before he called Kunikida again.
Kunikida picked up the phone almost immediately. “Nakahara? It’s late. Has Dazai come back yet?”
“No,” Chuuya said, and he surprised himself when he heard his voice crack. “You still haven’t heard anything from him…?”
“No,” Kunikida echoed, “but like I said earlier, don’t worry about him. He does things like this often. He’ll disappear for a few days and come back like nothing happened. I’d give it until the end of the week at most.”
“Okay,” Chuuya said, his voice cracking again. “Thank you.”
He hung up the phone before his voice could break anymore, or before Kunikida could hear him cry. Kunikida’s words didn’t do anything to comfort him. They just brought back more déjà vu.
---
“Chuuya.”
Chuuya stood at complete attention, his eyes focused on those of his Boss, instead of on the half-naked little girl who was sitting on Mori’s desk and trying to pull off a dress that he had forced her into. Bloody crimson bore into sapphire blue. The gaze made Chuuya uncomfortable, but he did not waver.
“Yes, Boss?”
“Do you know where Dazai is?”
“No, Boss.”
“Do you know when he left?”
“Three days ago, Boss.”
“Do you know when he’ll be back?”
“No, Boss.”
Mori pressed his lips into a thin line.
“I wouldn’t worry, Boss,” Chuuya said in an attempt to ease Mori’s clear unhappiness. “Dazai does things like this all the time. He’ll leave for a few days and come back with a new lead or some other kind of information or cargo. He’ll be gone four more days at the most, by my estimates.”
“I see,” Mori said flatly, then propped his arms up on the desk, folded his hands together, and cradled his chin on top of them. “Thank you, Chuuya. You are dismissed.”
Chuuya bowed to Mori, then turned to leave. Out of the corner of his eye, Chuuya saw Mori’s expression change. There was a glint in his eyes, and his lips had been pulled into a taut smirk, almost like he knew something that Chuuya didn’t.
Like he knew the answers to his own questions even though Chuuya didn’t.
---
Chuuya didn’t sleep that night. He was up with the sun, but the blinds were still closed. It was safe to assume Dazai had been gone for over twenty-four hours now. He hadn’t come home last night, not even for a minute. He still hadn’t answered his phone.
Chuuya called him again. Not once, but twice. He left one more voicemail.
“Osamu, I really need you to call me back. Shuuji’s worried. I’m worried. You missed making breakfast with us and you didn’t come home to sing Jugemu. He’s upset. I’m upset. I want to know where you are. Call me back, please.”
Once again, he hung up the phone before he started crying.
He took a few minutes to breathe and calm down before leaving the bedroom to sit in the living room. He let Shuuji keep sleeping. He didn’t want to wake the boy up if Dazai wasn’t there. With how adamant Shuuji had been about not going through with their rituals if Dazai wasn’t around, he was sure Shuuji would be upset if Chuuya woke him up without Dazai.
But the child woke eventually, and the first words out of his mouth after toddling tiredly into the living room to find Chuuya were “We didn’t do Jugemu with Dad last night…”
Chuuya sighed heavily. “I know, baby,” he said quietly, then patted the seat next to him on the couch, beckoning for Shuuji to come sit next to him.
“Where’s Dad…? I thought he would come home last night…” Shuuji murmured, rubbing his eyes as he walked over to the couch.
“I know,” Chuuya said, lifting Shuuji off the floor and setting him down on the couch. “I thought so too.”
“Where is he?” Shuuji asked.
“I don’t know, Shuuji,” Chuuya told him.
“When will he be home?”
Again, “I don’t know.”
Shuuji asked those questions again and again. Every few hours, he wanted to know where his Dad was and when he was coming home. Every time, Chuuya had to answer “I don’t know.”
Two days turned into three, then into four, and Dazai still wasn’t back. “I don’t know, I don’t know, I don’t know,” Chuuya repeated over and over again. No phone calls. No texts. No word from the ADA. Nothing. Dazai was gone.
“Daddy? Is Dad going to be home toda--”
“I don’t know!” Chuuya yelled, making Shuuji flinch. Chuuya had never yelled at him before.
“I-I… I-I’m… s-sorry…”
Chuuya’s stomach dropped.
“Oh God, Shuuji, baby, I’m so sorry--”
He dropped to his knees and pulled the frightened boy into his arms, hugging him as tightly as possible and kissing his hair. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to yell at you. I’m mad at Dad, not at you. I’m so sorry.”
Shuuji wrapped his arms around Chuuya’s neck and buried his face into Chuuya’s shoulder. “I want Dad to come home,” he whispered.
“I know, baby,” Chuuya said, his voice cracking again. “I want him to come home, too.”
But Chuuya had lost hope. He’d been through this before. Dazai was gone. He wasn’t coming back. He’d left. He’d abandoned them. He was never coming back.
Chuuya didn’t know how to break that to Shuuji.
He didn’t have the heart to.
So for the fourth night in a row, Shuuji fell asleep on the couch watching Transformers with Chuuya instead of listening to Dazai recite “Jugemu.” Except, Shuuji wasn’t really asleep when Chuuya put him in bed. He had just pretended to fall asleep because he knew Chuuya would let him stay up all night waiting for Dazai to come home. He was tired. He didn’t want to stay awake for “Jugemu” tonight. But he didn’t want to admit that he was giving up, so he faked falling asleep instead.
That night, Chuuya broke down. Curled up on Dazai’s side of the bed, he sobbed until he couldn’t breathe, then yelled until his voice was gone. Through paper-thin walls, Shuuji heard everything.
“He’s gone, he’s gone, he’s gone!” Chuuya wailed. “He’s gone and he isn’t coming back! Another four years and I’ll run into him in another city and he’ll just--” he coughed, choking on his own tears, “--fucking act like he never wanted to be the father of my damn kid, like we don’t mean anything to him--”
Shuuji was five years old, but he knew more about the world than a five-year-old should. He knew his parents used to be the bad guys, that they worked for the Port Mafia and that they were worse than any of the villains from his anime and cartoons. He knew they became like superheroes so that Shuuji could have a better life. He knew his parents fought all the time because of things that happened in a past that neither of them wanted to talk about. He knew that four years ago, Dazai had left his Daddy without a word and hadn’t come back until now. Shuuji didn’t want to believe it, or even to think about it, but he knew why his Daddy was so scared.
It was one week until Dazai came home. Chuuya hadn’t gone a night since his first breakdown without crying and screaming when he thought Shuuji couldn’t hear. Shuuji hadn’t gone a night without pretending to fall asleep, then lying awake in bed listening to his Daddy sob. By then, Shuuji had all but given up hope that Dazai was coming back, too.
The knob on the front door twisted and the door opened without further warning. Shuuji was alone in the living room at the time. He gasped and jumped backwards in his surprise, and he was ready to run to Chuuya and tell him that there was an intruder, but he stopped and stared when he saw who the intruder was.
He was missing his coat, his clothes were dirty, he looked like he hadn’t showered in days, and he was covered in bruises, but he was still undeniably recognizable as Dazai. Shuuji’s surprised visage melted into one of absolute joy. He dropped his toys, sprung to his feet, and made a run for his Dad.
“Dad!! Dad!! You’re home!!” he squealed, hugging Dazai around his legs and burying his face into them, rubbing his cheeks against the fabric and getting himself quite dirty in the process.
Dazai laughed. “Hey, buddy!” he exclaimed, reaching down to pick Shuuji up with a long groan. “That’s right, I’m home! Did you miss me?”
Shuuji hugged Dazai tightly around his neck. “I missed you so much, Dad! You weren’t here to make pancakes and smoothies with Daddy and you haven’t said Jugemu to me for six nights! I counted! That’s a lot!”
“Oh, I know, I know,” Dazai said, nuzzling into Shuuji’s hair and giving his head a kiss. “We’ll have to make pancakes and smoothies for every meal tomorrow, and I’ll have to tell you Jugemu six times to make up for it.”
“Yeah, yeah!” Shuuji exclaimed. “Jugemu! Jugemu! Goko-no surikire! Kaijarisuigyo-no! Suigyomatsu Unraimatsu Furaimatsu! Kuunerutokoro-ni Sumutokoro!”
Dazai joined in on his chant. “Yaburakoji-no yabukoji! Paipopaipo Paipo-no-shuringan! Shuringan-no Gurindai! Gurindai-no Ponpokopi-no Ponpokona-no! Chokyumei-no Chosuke!”
The two burst into laughter after the chant was finished.
That was when Chuuya came out of his room.
Drowned out by their laughter, neither Shuuji nor Dazai could hear the sound of Chuuya’s swift footsteps on the hardwood floors of the apartment. Chuuya had been in the bathroom when Dazai first arrived, but had finished up in time to hear Shuuji chanting “Jugemu” to himself. He found the act odd, but didn’t think more of it until he heard another voice harmonizing with Shuuji’s. His heart clenched not because he was scared that there was someone else in the apartment, but because he knew exactly who it was.
Chuuya couldn’t believe it. Even as he stood in the hallway’s entrance, staring at his fiancé, who held their son in his arms, he couldn’t believe what he was seeing. He couldn’t believe that Dazai had come home. He couldn’t believe that Dazai was laughing and chanting “Jugemu” with Shuuji. He couldn’t believe that Dazai had let him think that he was being abandoned again and then come back just as cheerful as ever, as if there was nothing wrong with what he had done.
Chuuya wanted to scream. He wanted to yell. He wanted to hit Dazai. He wanted to do something, anything, to express how furious and scared and utterly despairing he felt because of what Dazai had done. But he couldn’t bring himself to do it.
“Don’t yell at Dad when he gets home. I don't like it when you fight.”
Dazai slowly stopped laughing, and his previously squinted eyes opened so that he could see Chuuya in front of him. He smiled broadly. “Chuuya! I miss--”
He didn’t have time to finish his sentence before Chuuya turned on his heel and headed back down the hall. Both Dazai and Shuuji flinched when they heard a door slam just seconds later. Dazai’s expression fell.
He immediately set Shuuji on the floor and sprinted down the hall, towards the bedroom. He tried to open the door, only to find that it was locked. He continued to twist the knob anyways.
“Chuuya? Chuuya, what--what’s happening? What… Chuuya, what’s wrong?”
Dazai couldn’t fathom what on Earth had made Chuuya so upset. He had just gotten home, there was no way he could have done something that upsetting just by walking in the door. Had something happened while he was away?
“Chuuya, open the door,” Dazai pleaded, continuing to twist the doorknob. “Come on, babe, say something. Open the door, say something to me. Tell me what’s going on.”
Chuuya remained silent.
Dazai got frustrated.
He ran a hand through his greasy hair with a sigh. “Come on, Chuuya, I just walked in the door. What’s going on? You know I can open this door on my own. You know I don’t wanna invade your space but I need to know what’s going on. Open the door or I’m going to do it myself.
There was still no answer.
“Dammit, Chuuya!” Dazai shouted, pounding his fist on the door.
With another sigh, he let go of the doorknob and began to walk down the hall, back to the living room. There was a key to the bedroom hidden on top of one of the cabinets in the kitchen. Dazai knew better than to crowd Chuuya when he needed time alone, but whatever had just happened, it wasn’t normal. Something was wrong. Dazai was going to find out what it was.
Dazai walked past Shuuji on his way to the kitchen. The boy already knew why his Daddy was upset. He didn’t understand why Dazai didn’t know the reason.
“Dad--”
“Not now, Shuuji,” Dazai dismissed. “Something’s wrong with Daddy.”
He lifted one knee onto the counter and hoisted himself up so that he could feel the top of the cabinets for the key.
“But Dad, Daddy--”
“Shuuji, I said not now,” Dazai repeated.
He finally grasped the key and lifted it off of the cabinet, then lowered himself to the floor again. He was about to walk away, but Shuuji clung tightly to his leg and refused to let go. With another frustrated sigh, Dazai looked down at him.
“Shuuji, you need t--”
“Daddy thought you weren’t coming back.”
Dazai froze. “What?”
Shuuji loosened his grip on Dazai’s leg a little. “Daddy was scared. He thought you left us. He thought you weren’t coming back.”
A pit formed in Dazai’s stomach, and guilt pooled in it. So he had done something to upset Chuuya just by walking in the door. Or rather, by walking out of it.
But that was absurd. They were engaged to be married, they were raising a kid together, for crying out loud. Chuuya should have known he was coming back. Chuuya should have had faith in him.
“Why would he say that?” he asked Shuuji. “I would never leave you guys. I love you both. Why would he think that?”
Shuuji stared up at him for a few seconds, then averted his gaze to the floor. “But you left him before, didn’t you? He told me you did.”
Dazai’s heart faltered.
“Shuuji… Did you think I wasn’t coming back…?”
Shuuji didn’t answer.
“Jesus Christ…” Dazai mumbled.
With the key still clutched tightly in his fist, he bent down to pry Shuuji off of his leg, then knelt in front of him and grabbed him by his shoulders. “Shuuji, look at me,” he ordered.
Reluctantly, Shuuji did as he was told.
“Shuuji, I love you and I love your Daddy. I love you both more than I could ever express in words. I will never, ever leave you and not come back. Ever. Do you understand me?”
Shuuji nodded slowly.
Dazai pulled him close and kissed his head tenderly. “I love you so much, Shuuji.”
“I love you too, Dad,” Shuuji murmured.
“Good,” Dazai said, then let Shuuji go and ruffled his hair. “Now, I have to go talk to Daddy. Stay out here and play with your cars for a little, okay? And Daddy and I will tell Jugemu to you when we’re done.”
Shuuji nodded again, smiling broadly. “Okay!” he exclaimed, then ran off to the living room.
Dazai smiled weakly as he watched Shuuji dash away. Once Shuuji was gone, Dazai stood up and made his way back to the living room as well. From the living room, he walked back to the bedroom. He tried the doorknob one last time before sticking the key into the lock and unlocking it.
Upon opening the door, Dazai was met with the sight of Chuuya curled in on himself on the bed, crying quietly into his hands. Dazai’s heart broke. He rushed to the bed and sat down beside Chuuya. He curled his fingers around Chuuya’s arm and attempted to pull Chuuya up and into his lap, but Chuuya slapped his hand away.
“Chuuya…” Dazai murmured, but withdrew his hand.
Chuuya said nothing. He didn’t even look at Dazai. Dazai sighed once again.
“Chuuya, come on,” he said, frustrated. “You had to know I was gonna come back. After all that we’ve been through to get to this point, you really believed that I would just up and leave? That I would never come back? That I’d just abandon you and Shuuji and everyone else? That’s how little you think of me?”
“Shut the fuck up,” Chuuya snarled, finally pushing himself into a sitting position so that he could glare at Dazai. “Don’t you dare come in here and act like the victim in this situation you selfish bastard! You have no right to that!”
“I’m not trying to be a victim, Chuuya! I don’t understand what the hell I did wrong!”
Chuuya laughed in disbelief. “You don’t understand what you did wrong? How fucking thick are you!? You fucking left for a week without telling me, you didn't answer your goddamn phone, you didn't make any attempt to contact me whatsoever, I still don't even know what the hell you were doing or where you were, and you don’t know what the hell you did wrong!?”
“No, I don’t!” Dazai shouted. “I used to disappear like that all the time and you never had a problem with it! You never got pissed off at me when I came back!”
“That was before you left for four fucking years, Dazai!” Chuuya yelled. “What the hell was I supposed to think!?”
“That I would come back because I care about you and Shuuji!”
“You supposedly cared about me before you left the mafia, Dazai! You can’t justify this in any way! You just can’t!”
“I shouldn't have to justify myself to you! You should trust me!”
“No, Dazai, you gave up your right to my blind and unconditional trust when you left four years ago! You don't have the right to just do whatever you want without a reason anymore! Especially now that you have a family and responsibilities! You have a kid now, Dazai! If you want to be a part of this family then you need to fucking act like it! How many times do I have to tell you that!?”
“I am acting like it! Since when have I acted like I don't want to be a part of this family!?”
“Since you fucking disappeared without telling me anything!”
“You shouldn't have worried about me!”
“Oh, Jesus Christ, Dazai!” Chuuya screeched, grabbing his head with both hands and tugging on his hair, about ready to pull it out. “How fucking hard is it for you to just apologize to me and say you won't do it again!? To consider my feelings for five seconds!? Or Shuuji’s!? He kept asking where you were or when you were coming home and every single time I had to tell him I didn’t know! He wouldn't go to sleep without you saying Jugemu to him; I had to let him fall asleep on the couch an hour after he was supposed to go to bed because he wouldn't sleep without you! Because he was waiting for you to come home, because we didn't know if you ever would! Why can’t you understand that!?”
“Chuuya, you can’t expect me to tell you every little thing about what I’m doing, sometimes I can’t--”
“No, no, Dazai, shut up. Just shut up,” Chuuya spat. “I’m not going to sit here and listen to your excuses anymore. You better think long and hard about what you want in your life, because if it’s this family, then I expect an apology and I expect things to change. And if you ever walk out that door without saying a word again, I won’t let you come back home.”
After that, Chuuya stood up from the bed and walked swiftly to the bathroom, where he closed and locked the door behind him. In the silence, the severity of Chuuya’s ultimatum hit him like a truck, and the sincerity of Chuuya’s fear and anger began to drown him. Dazai finally began to understand what he had done wrong.
He was an idiot. A fucking idiot. How many times had he lamented that he would lose everything he wanted as soon as he obtained it, only to have Chuuya tell him that the only way he could lose it all was if he didn't hold on? And here he was, letting his family slip through his fingers because he wasn’t holding on tight enough. Because he was too selfish to make a sacrifice or admit when he was wrong. And now Chuuya was threatening to shut the door on him permanently. He had to fix this, or he wouldn’t live through the consequences.
Slowly, he stood up from the bed and walked to the bathroom door. He pressed his fingertips against the door, then his forehead, and closed his eyes. After sucking in a soft breath, he said, “I’m sorry, Chuuya.”
His apology was met with silence.
He curled his hands into fists against the door.
“Chuuya, I’m sorry. You’re right, I shouldn’t have left without telling you. I thought that I could get away with doing the same things that I used to but… It’s different now. Our relationship is different--better! And we have Shuuji and… I was irresponsible. And I’m sorry. I don’t… I want this family, Chuuya. That’s all I want. So if you want me to tell you when I’m leaving, then that’s what I’ll do. Just please let me come back home.”
Once again, silence.
Dazai sighed heavily. With his eyes closed, he could feel tears beginning to well up in them. If even him swallowing his pride, admitting his mistake, and apologizing for it wasn’t enough to get Chuuya to speak to him, then what hope did he have of being forgiven? Maybe he had already lost his grip. Maybe Chuuya and Shuuji were already gone.
Then, Dazai heard the sound of the door being unlocked. He opened his eyes and stared at the door, letting tears fall down his face. The doorknob twisted beneath him, and a second later, the door opened.
Dazai stood up straight, letting his hands fall to his sides, and he stared at Chuuya. Chuuya’s face was no longer contorted in fury. Instead, it was soft and forgiving. A quiet, breathless laugh escaped Dazai’s lips.
“That’s all I wanted you to say,” Chuuya said.
Dazai reached out to Chuuya and pulled him close, wrapping Chuuya in his arms and holding him as tightly as possible. He kissed Chuuya’s hair and face and neck until there wasn’t a single spot that had been left untouched by his lips. Chuuya wrapped his arms around Dazai’s waist and hugged back.
“I missed you, Chuuya. I love you. I’m so sorry.”
“I missed you too, Osamu. I love you too. I forgive you.”
Dazai kissed Chuuya’s lips, then pulled away and held Chuuya by his shoulders. “Come on, let’s go see Shuuji. I promised we’d tell him Jugemu to make up for all the nights we missed while I was gone.”
Chuuya chuckled softly and nodded. “Come on, let’s go.”
He placed a hand on top of Dazai’s, keeping it on his shoulder, then turned around so that he could walk out of the bedroom. Dazai followed along happily. They returned to the living room together, where Shuuji was still sitting and playing with his toys.
“Shuuji!” Dazai called, and the boy looked up at him, “Are you ready to listen to Jugemu?”
“Yes! Yes!” Shuuji exclaimed, clapping his hands in delight.
Chuuya and Dazai walked to where Shuuji was, then sat down beside him. Shuuji stood up from where he had been sitting only to toddle into Dazai’s lap. Dazai laughed and wrapped his arms around Shuuji’s waist to keep the child close. Then, he cleared his throat before beginning the story.
“Once, there was a little boy who had a very, very long name. His name was,” and he paused, grinning at both Shuuji and Chuuya, who would join him when he began to say the name, “Jugemu Jugemu Goko-no surikire Kaijarisuigyo-no Suigyomatsu Unraimatsu Furaimatsu…”