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Dazai was in the middle of a rather thrilling dream about a lovely woman reaching out to him from the sea like some wondrous siren when he was jarred awake by the shrill shriek of a phone, jolting upright with a half-muffled shriek.
Groaning, he rubbed his eyes (the images of the beautiful woman now twisted into sharp and monstrous features) and reached for his phone, squinting when he saw the caller ID. Yawning, he flipped it open and mumbled a sleepy “Hello?” into the receiver, only to pause when he heard a ruckus across the line.
“Oh thank god, you’re awake,” Yosano answered as a loud thud and a muted shriek (Was that Atsushi?) cut her off.
“What’s going on?” Dazai asked, forcing away the lingering edges of sleep.
“We’ve got a situation,” she replied cryptically. “Just get your ass in here now. ”
The call clicked off.
Dazai pulled the phone from his ear and looked at it incredulously. Well, guess I better go see what’s going on.
----
Of all the things Dazai was expecting to see (and has seen in the past), this certainly wasn’t it.
Random raids? Sure.
Explosions, broken windows, blood splatters? Yep.
Bullet holes? Not an uncommon sight.
But what Dazai saw when he opened the front door made his jaw nearly drop in surprise:
Desks and other miscellaneous stuff was half-floating at different levels in the air like an insane hurricane. People were hiding behind either other people or one of the few desks that remained grounded; people were yelling and clamoring over each other, and for some reason Atsushi was floating near the ceiling shrieking while Kenji was trying to yank him back down to no avail.
“Uh…” Dazai trailed off, vaguely pointing at Atsushi struggling above him, “what’s going on?”
“All I did was find him on my way in and then weird stuff started happening I didn’t know who it was and oh my god please don’t let me fall,” Atsushi squawked as Kenji slipped while trying to snatch his ankle.
Dazai raised an eyebrow. “Who’s him?” he asked, trying to catch someone’s eye.
Kunikida gestured to the desk by the window (Ranpo’s), which was suspiciously still. “He’s under the desk,” he answered from his spot behind the open door of the President’s office, apparently using it to shield himself.
What’s got everyone so freaked out? Dazai thought to himself as he strode over to the desk, cautious but still disbelieving.
As he reached the front of the desk, he froze when he heard the faint sounds of hiccuping and broken breaths. Is someone…. crying?
Placing a hand on the top of the desk and leaning under it, he froze when he saw the shape of a small figure pressing themselves to the back of the corner, hiding their face in their knees as they sobbed.
He recognized that hair, knew that outrageously formal style of clothes-
“Chu?” he breathed incredulously, and the figure’s head shot up at his outburst.
All wild red curls and bright blue eyes filled with tears widening in recognition, there was no denying it- hiding under the desk was a very young Nakahara Chuuya.
Dazai was bewildered as Chuuya launched forward and latched himself onto Dazai, knocking Dazai backward onto the ground as he buried his face into the front of Dazai’s shirt.
What.
Dazai peered around the desk to stare confusedly at the rest of the ADA, only to earn equally perplexed looks in return.
He mouthed a quick “hold on” before turning back to the child in his arms. “Chu, are you okay?” he asked quietly, carefully activating his Ability before placing a gentle hand on Chuuya’s back. Chuuya flinched when he heard the sound of objects falling to the ground, including the screech of Atsushi (at which Dazai tried not to laugh).
Chuuya didn’t respond spare to bury himself further into Dazai, small hands clutching at the fabric of his jacket.
Dazai frowned before gently pulling Chuuya from him. “Come on, let’s get you up,” he murmured, nudging Chuuya up until Dazai could stand again. Chuuya immediately proceeded to latch onto Dazai’s leg. (Dazai couldn’t remember being this confused before in his life.)
“Okay,” he started slowly, looking back up to the carnage of the office, “can someone explain why there is a tiny version of Chuuya here?”
“Apparently, Atsushi found him wandering the streets and decided to bring him here,” Naomi answered, prying her brother out from under one of the bookshelves, “and then things just got weird.”
Dazai raised an eyebrow, and pointed (sarcastically) to Chuuya. “He’s a child; he shouldn’t have been able to do so much damage,” he pointed out, still thoroughly confused.
“He seemed pretty spooked when Atsushi brought him in,” Yosano added.
Dazai furrowed his eyebrows, looking back down to Chuuya. He was never that affectionate, nor did he ever get scared that easily. “Did you try asking him what was wrong?” he asked.
“We tried, but he wouldn’t respond,” Atsushi answered weakly, rubbing his head from where he’d hit it on the floor.
“It was like he didn’t hear us at all,” Ranpo- sitting safely by the far side of the room with his legs crossed atop a desk- called.
Dazai paused. Hang on a second. “Do you know how old he is?” he asked suddenly.
Kunikida shook his head. “We asked that, but he didn’t reply.”
Dazai sighed with a faint smile on his face, before leaning down to scoop up Chuuya and prop him on his hip. Chuuya, whom Dazai expected to have some sort of negative reaction to being picked up, only hid his face in Dazai’s shoulder. “Chuuya,” he started softly, “how old are you?”
Chuuya paused, before turning his head slightly to peek up at Dazai. “‘m six, turning seven soon.”
A rush of relief ran through Dazai at his response, a smile creeping up onto his face.
The other members of the ADA gaped at him, and he looked up at them with a slightly mischievous look on his face. “His first language is French, and he didn’t learn Japanese until a little later as he had trouble with it.” He laughed softly at the memory of disgruntled Chuuya trying to work with Dazai on his Japanese, nose turned up with a sharp frown twisting his features.
“And you just happen to know how to speak French?” Atsushi asked dryly.
Dazai fixed him with a look before readjusting Chuuya on his hip. “I’ve known Chuuya since we were both little, so I learned French as he learned Japanese,” he answered before turning back to Chuuya. “Chu, do you think you could tell me what happened?” he asked, voice going soft.
Chuuya huffed, fingers tightening in Dazai’s coat. “Don’t wanna.”
Dazai frowned. “Why not?”
Chuuya turned away from him. “Too scary,” he said, voice barely audible.
“What did he say?” Ranpo yelled from the back of the room. Chuuya flinched at his voice and Dazai glared at Ranpo.
“He said it was ‘too scary’,” Dazai answered. Sighing, he lifted one hand to run his fingers gently through Chuuya’s hair in an effort to soothe him. “Will you at least tell me how you got here?” Dazai tried, hoping he’d be able to get Chuuya to backtrack.
Chuuya leaned into Dazai’s hand, and Dazai felt a surge of affection run through him as he felt Chuuya relax against him. He trusts me.
“I was on my way to lessons with Sister when I got lost,” he started, nose crinkling, and Dazai laughed as he remembered how often Chuuya got turned around when he was younger, “then I saw this man who looked like one of Mori’s friends, so I asked him if he could help me find the right way, but…” he trailed off, breath hitching in fear.
Dazai slightly squeezed Chuuya. “It’s okay,” he placated, “what happened with the man?”
“He saw me and…. and he looked at me funny, like he was really mean, and said to me ‘I’ve been looking for you, Chuuya,’ but- but I never told him my name,” Chuuya shuddered, and Dazai winced when he saw Chuuya’s eyes fill with tears again, “then he grabbed me and started pulling down the hall, hitting me when I started screaming-”
“He what? ” Dazai asked lowly, angrily, but Chuuya kept going.
“then he covered my mouth and something wrapped around me, like glowing green ribbons, and they started squeezing and it hurt- ” Chuuya’s breath hitched and Dazai hushed him.
“It’s alright, you’re safe now,” he told him, eyes flitting around to the captivated eyes of the people in the room.
“I think I remember him telling me that he was ‘looking for the other me’ but I’m not sure, cause then I ended up here in the alleys,” Chuuya finished, teary and terrified.
(Dazai was stuck between horror and rage, but his heart couldn’t pick a side.)
Looking back up to the others, he sighed deeply. “It sounds like someone with an Ability got him and forced him to switch places with his current-day counterpart,” he explained, trying to keep his voice even, but evidently something malicious slipped through as Atsushi gave him a look.
“What happened to him? He sounded pretty terrified, and-” and you seemed pretty upset, was what Atsushi’s face told Dazai.
Dazai shook his head. “Someone from the past wanted his other version, but I don’t know why they would go through so much trouble to do so,” he said.
Dazai was interrupted when Chuuya lifted his head to scrub at his face and talking again. “That nice tiger boy helped me get here, and he told me I’d be okay once we got here,” he continued.
Dazai snorted incredulously before pointing at Atsushi, who knit his eyebrows in confusion. “Do you mean Atsushi?”
Chuuya nodded before scrunching his nose. “His name’s hard to say though,” he answered petulantly, and Dazai laughed brightly in surprise.
“What did he say?” Atsushi demanded, crossing his arms.
“Aside from calling you ‘nice tiger boy’, he’s complaining that your name’s too hard to say,” Dazai said, and he heard other snorts of clipped laughter at Atsushi’s scandalized face.
“Hey!” he whined, but Dazai ignored him.
Kenji patted his shoulder. “He called you nice at least!” he chimed in, and Atsushi deflated, stuck between being flattered and being insulted.
“What happened after that?” Dazai pressed, flipping back to French.
Chuuya stiffened, and he lowered his voice to a whisper. “When I came in, the big scary man started yelling at me and tiger boy, but I couldn’t understand what he was saying,” he said, voice hushed.
Big…. scary man? “Who do you mean, Chu?” Dazai asked.
“The one with the glasses,” Chuuya whispered, and Dazai clicked his tongue. Of course.
Dazai rounded on Kunikida, scowling at him. “You yelled at him?” he whisper-yelled.
Kunikida fixed his glasses. “Atsushi should not have shown up unannounced with a child,” he said levelly.
Dazai gave him an incredulous look. “He’s six, Kunikida! What was Atsushi supposed to do, leave him there?”
Kunikida looked helplessly toward Atsushi, who only gave him an I told you so look.
Sighing, Dazai turned back to Chuuya. “What happened next?”
Chuuya looked away from Dazai, face guilty and shy. “I got… scared, and my Ability started doing funny things I couldn’t control,” he said quietly.
Right- he couldn’t control Tainted at first. Dazai gave him a smile. “Hey, that’s what I’m here for,” he said gently, and Chuuya looked up at him, eyes sparkling before it shifted into something sadder as he hid his face back in Dazai’s shoulder.
“I wanna go home,” he mumbled.
Dazai sighed and rubbed his back. I don’t know how to get him back- I don’t even know what that Ability user wanted with the present-day Chuuya either. “Well hey, you’re safe here for as long as you need,” Dazai said brightly, and saw a bright blue eye peek up at him.
“You promise?”
Dazai laughed at how small Chuuya’s voice was, once again struck by the fact that this was still Chuuya, all of his rough edges and bristles gone, leaving nothing but that soft heart of his behind. “Yeah, I promise, and so do all of these guys,” he said, sweeping a hand around to gesture at the ADA.
Chuuya tentatively lifted his head, shyly peeking at them before mumbling a very quiet and hesitant “Thank you,” in return. Dazai beamed.
“I never knew you were so good with kids,” Ranpo said curiously.
Dazai shrugged. “I guess it’s just my stunning personality,” he said lazily.
“‘Stunning personality’ my ass,” Atsushi scoffed under his breath.
Dazai let out a scandalized gasp and shielded Chuuya from him. “There are children present!” he hissed.
Atsushi let out a noise of disbelief. “He doesn’t even speak Japanese!” he argued, gesturing at Chuuya.
“Even so,” Dazai said haughtily, and Atsushi rolled his eyes.
Chuuya made a noise of complaint, pulling away from Dazai so he could shrug off the hand on his head before fixing Dazai with a slightly irritated look that was too cute to have any bite. “You were squashing me, stupid Dazai.”
Dazai held up his free hand in mock surrender. “Sorry, sorry, I didn’t mean to,” he said briefly.
Chuuya narrowed his eyes, but didn’t say anything.
“I retract what I said about being good with kids,” Ranpo said loudly.
“Hey!”
“Beside the point,” Kunikida interrupted, and Dazai looked over at him. “What are you going to do with him? It’s too dangerous to keep him in this timeline.”
Dazai looked back down at Chuuya, who was peering up at him curiously, and felt a surge of protection. He let out a deep breath. “I guess I can just keep him with me until he somehow gets back to his own time,” Dazai conceded.
Yosano raised an eyebrow. “Are you sure about that? He’s still part of the Mafia,” she said cautiously.
Dazai gave her a look. “He’s six and can barely control his Ability,” he said dryly, “the worst he could probably do is stab me with a spoon.”
Yosano just stared back at him, crossing her arms.
Dazai rolled his eyes. “Chu, are you gonna stab me with a spoon if I take you back to my house?” he asked.
Chuuya gave him a confused look.
“I’ll take that as a no, then,” Dazai declared, looking back at Yosano victoriously.
She sighed, shaking her head.
Dazai was about to say something when he heard Chuuya’s breath hitch, his fingers closing tightly enough in his jacket to startle him. He look back at him to see his eyes blown wide in fear, and he was shaking.
“Woah, Chuuya, what’s wrong?” Dazai asked.
Chuuya was only able to get out the words “He’s here” before blinding rings of green twined around his arms. Horror stricken, Chuuya latched onto Dazai’s neck, fingers tightening around the bandages tied there as the rings started to lift him out of Dazai’s arms.
“What the hell?”
“What’s going on?”
“Is that an Ability?”
Chaos erupted in the office again as Chuuya was yanked from Dazai, floating above the floor as his shape started to go blurry. He desperately tried to cling onto Dazai’s hand, tears streaming down his face.
(Are they being switched back? Did something happen in the past?)
“Don’t let him get me!” Chuuya screamed.
Red energy crackled around Chuuya as his Ability activated out of fear, but it evaporated as the rings tightened around him.
As he started to disappear, he reached for Dazai once again with his name on his tongue as the rings imploded with a bright flash and a crack-
-and the present-day Nakahara Chuuya fell ungracefully on the ground with a muffled swear. His coat was missing, and he had slashes across his clothes and a nasty gash on his cheek, fresh blood dripping down his face and off his chin.
Dazai, after a moment of surprise, felt his lips quirk up into an impish smile. “Welcome back,” he said sarcastically, arms crossing over his chest.
Chuuya looked up at the source of the voice, and upon seeing Dazai his face twisted into a grimace. “Figures the first thing I see would be your annoying face,” he growled, slowly pulling himself up with a groan.
Dazai pouted. “You know, you were a lot cuter when you were little,” he complained, watching as Chuuya froze as Dazai switched back to French. “Though it’s not as if you got that much bigger.”
Chuuya sneered at him, and stormed his way out of the office without another word, ignoring the other members as he slammed the door shut behind him.
Dazai snorted. Still so easy to tease.
Dazai looked over to see the others staring at him (spare Ranpo, who was laughing under his breath) in incredulity. “What?” he asked innocently.
Yosano sighed and shook her head, while Kunikida was on the verge of another yelling fit as he took in the entirety of the damage.
Then, out of the corner of his eye, Dazai saw something on the ground, and a dark grin quirked at his lips as he knelt down.
I think he’ll be coming back for that rather soon, he hummed to himself as he picked up the forgotten hat, running his fingers over the edge of the brim.
True to his word, the door swung back open, startling Atsushi (who was just next to it) as Chuuya made his way back in, eyes zeroing in on the hat in Dazai’s grip.
“Forget something?” Dazai purred, and watched as Chuuya pinked in embarrassment as he stalked over to Dazai, plucked the hat from his head and made his way back to the door.
He stopped, back to Dazai. “You know, I... forgot that you were also sort of cute when you were little,” he muttered.
Dazai broke out into surprised laughter and Chuuya flinched. “Did you just call me cute?” he called.
Chuuya shouted a broken “Shut it,” before slamming the door behind him again.
Meanwhile, Dazai was beside himself, and Atsushi was giving him a look of disgust.
I’m never letting him forget that- never.
“Do you plan on explaining the entirety of what just happened?” Yosano said tiredly.
Dazai hopped back up, brushing off his pants. “Nope.”
She sighed deeply, and Dazai just grinned wickedly.