Archive of Our Own

Chuuya breathes in deeply, the crisp winter air filling his lungs before he lets it all out. He stretches his arms over his head before letting them drop to his sides, a smile on his face.

Getting up early to jog really was the right decision. This vacation has been nothing but perfect. He kind of wishes that he brought some of his subordinates with him, but he can’t say that he regrets it. He didn't realise how much he was craving some time off and alone until Kouyou literally seated him on the shinkansen to Kyoto five days ago. He had thought that a week was too long and certainly too indulgent but Kouyou had Golden Demon point its sword at his neck so he wasn't particularly keen to disagree with her. And now that there’s only a day left, Chuuya finds himself wishing that he can stay just a little longer, though the workaholic and responsible side of him prevents him from calling Mori and requesting for an extension. It wouldn't be fair to let Kouyou do any more of his work than absolutely necessary anyway.

In the meantime, he’s content to watch the sun rise slowly, its reflection creeping along the Kamo River. There are still some stars in the sky and the blend of day and night is a beautiful sight. Everything is beautiful, really. The sun, the stars, the sky, the sounds of the shops opening, the river, the legs sticking out of the river, the peaceful atmosphere, the few couples and groups of people strolling in silent companionship… wait a minute…

Chuuya closes his eyes.

I’m dreaming. I’m dreaming. I’m dreaming.

He opens his eyes and turns back to river. His eyes twitch in agitation when he sees that there is indeed a pair of legs sticking out of the water.

Walk away, Chuuya.

He really should, but for some reason, he’s still rooted to the spot. Some people have stopped and are gasping and pointing at the river.

“Oh, for fuck’s sake!” Chuuya growls before he jumps into the river.

It’s freezing and it’s only because of his training that the shock doesn't send his body crashing. Still, it’s definitely not pleasant. Once Chuuya gets Dazai out of the water, he’s going to strangle him and then dump his sorry corpse into the river.

Chuuya grabs one of Dazai’s legs, feeling a vindictive pleasure when he feels the other man jerk in shock, before he hauls him to shore. Once he manages to drag them both out of the water, he dumps Dazai onto the ground. The man appears to be unconscious but Chuuya just eyes him wearily. When the asshole puckers his lips, Chuuya almost kicks him back into the river, but that would just undermine his efforts so he kicks him in the ribs instead.

Dazai grunts and clutches his ribs. He whimpers as he opens his eyes. They’re big and sad, and luckily Dazai isn’t a dog, or Chuuya would want to bring him home. As it is, Chuuya merely glares at him. Dazai’s eyes widen comically, and he lets out a horrified yell as he scrambles backwards. He has a hand over his mouth while he points at Chuuya with the other one.

“A walking hat rack!”

Chuuya closes his eyes and prays for divine intervention. He open his eyes and glares at Dazai. “Fuck you, waste of bandages.”

“It talks!”

“Hah! And I’m not shocked that a soaked mummy is talking?” Chuuya snaps back.

“A hat rack without a hat… what a peculiar sight.”

“You piece of trashy… shit… what did you say?”

Chuuya doesn't wait for Dazai to reply as he pats his hair frantically. True enough, his hat isn’t there. Why? He had his Ability on the entire time even when he was swimming… oh… he glares at Dazai.

“I HATE YOU.”

He jumps back into the river and while he’s not the type to give up before accomplishing his goal, he knows a lost cause when he sees one. He heaves himself out of the water, not even bothering to use his Ability to assist him. He’s that dejected. He’s more upset than he has been in years, and is ready to yell at Dazai when the other man produces his hat from behind and presents it to Chuuya.

“I had it all along, Chuuya. I know you can’t live without it.”

Chuuya’s torn between being happy and angry. He settles for a steely smile as he reaches out and snatches the hat from Dazai. The man sniggers and stands up, a smug smile on his face.

“No word of thanks, Chuuya?”

Chuuya’s smile becomes wider before he plants a foot firmly against Dazai’s chest and kicks him back into the river. After Dazai disappears from view, Chuuya feels his good mood slowly returning to him. He still has things he wants to see that day and he has wasted enough time. He retrieves his wallet from the riverbank, thanking the heavens that he had the foresight to dump it on the ground before diving into the water.

He wishes that that’ll be the end of his interaction with Dazai, but he can’t say he’s particularly surprised when the detective joins him as he makes his way back to the main street.

“I don’t have a spare change of clothes,” Dazai complains.

“Then don’t jump into the river,” Chuuya retorts with a roll of his eyes.

“See, if I were dead, I wouldn't need a change of clothes. Always ruining my plans. Do you even know that your hat is literally eating your brain? And you weren’t very smart to begin with.”

Chuuya smirks at Dazai coldly, and before Dazai even blinks, there’s a knife resting precariously against his abdomen.

“I could always help you fulfil your wish, suicidal maniac.”

“Yeah, you do realise that you called me a suicidal maniac? Hence you killing me would defeat the point? And you still deny that your hat is actively eating your brain cells.”

“Would you stop bringing my hat into this, you flopping mackerel on dry land?! Oh, god, that’s why you love the river so much, isn’t it? It’s your home.”

Dazai’s eyes narrow viciously.

“Slug.”

“Bandage wasting device.”

“Wine squandering machine.”

“Fuck you. I appreciate wine.”

“I appreciate bandages.”

“Ugh.”

“Chuuya.”

“… Are you seriously to insult me with my name?!”

Dazai raises an amused eyebrow and points to a shop next to the redhead. Chuuya spares one last glare at him before turning to look at the building.

Yamato Hotel.

Chuuya turns back to Dazai, seething.

“Are you fucking serious? I’m going to beat you to a plump right now, you little piece of shit. And by the time I’m done with you, there’s going to be nothing but bandages left but at least they’re useful.”

Dazai snorts and shakes his head. “Please, Chuuya. As if I’d sleep with a slug. I’m not into bestiality.”

Before Chuuya can answer, Dazai places his hands on his shoulders – damn his heart for skipping a beat – and angles him in the right direction.

Kimono rental. Right.

Not the best option in Chuuya’s opinion but his hotel is kind of far away and he doubts that any taxi is going to want to take him and Dazai as passengers. No, wait, what? Him. Take him. Alone. There is no him and Dazai.

“Oh, come on, Chuuya, let’s go for the full tourist experience,” Dazai says as he brushes past the shorter man and begins climbing up the stairs.

Chuuya hates that Dazai simply assumes that he would go along with him, but he hates the fact that even he knows that he would. So, instead, he snaps at Dazai, “why are you even coming with me!”

Dazai chuckles but doesn't say anything more as he enters the shop. Chuuya enters a few seconds later to see Dazai leaning on a counter, dripping water onto the table ungraciously, and stroking the hand of a woman.

“Oh, my failure today was because I was destined to meet you. My lovely lady, would you – ”

Chuuya hits him on the head so hard the woman lets out a gasp. He tosses Dazai behind him and smiles at her, apologising for the traumatic experience that she had to go through.

The store assistant is a sweet person, and she offers to toss their clothes in the dryer while they’re out. Chuuya thanks her, and literally drags Dazai over to the next room to pick out their kimonos. The bastard remains a boneless slime the entire way there and he dares call Chuuya a slug. Dazai becomes a lot more enthusiastic when it comes to picking a kimono. Correction: Chuuya’s kimono.

“How about this blue one? It matches your eyes. Oh, no, wait! Take this shade instead.”

The woman laughs as she watches Dazai darting around from one rack to another like a little child in a candy store. Chuuya palms his face in embarrassment.

“I can’t choose! But it’s okay, because Chuuya will look good in anything.”

Chuuya stalks over and punches Dazai in the arm.

“Enough,” he hisses.

“I’ll leave you two to it,” the woman says politely with a smile. There’s a knowing glint in her eyes, and Chuuya can’t even correct her if he wants to as she walks out.

Dazai’s eyes light up, and he walks past Chuuya. He pulls out a navy blue kimono and shows it to Chuuya proudly.

“How about this one?”

Chuuya has to admit that he likes it, and the only thing that’s holding him back from outright agreeing is the fact that Dazai chose it, but he’s not a petulant kid, so he nods and takes it from the other man.

He spots a magenta haori that would be perfect fit for the kimono. He doesn't realise that he and Dazai have reached for it at the same time until their hands brush against each other. Chuuya snatches his hand back quickly at the shock that runs through his entire being just from that simple touch. Dazai merely chuckles before he pulls the haori out.

“Thanks,” Chuuya says before walking away to choose a himo for it. He settles for one with a fluffy ball attached to it. It’s the same colour as his kimono so they all blend nicely together. For his obi, he chooses a checkered one, made out of dark and light purple boxes, to complement the rest of his outfit. He smiles at his ensemble before turning to check on Dazai.

He gasps at what the detective had picked out for himself. That bright shade of yellow with that startling shade of green? Yeah, how about no? Dazai had been way more flippant with his kimono than he had been with Chuuya’s, and the redhead can only sigh in exasperation as he re-picks an attire for him.

“You’re hopeless.”

It wasn’t Chuuya’s intention but Dazai smirks and says, “aw, you want us to have a couple look.”

“What? No!”

But Chuuya has to admit that it does kind of seem that way. He had chosen a midnight blue kimono for Dazai and paired it with a haori that’s slightly fancier than his. It’s in a gradient of blue that starts off darker at the top and tapers off to a sky blue at the bottom. There are also patterns of fans and chrysanthemums printed on it as well. Dazai looks happy with it anyway, so Chuuya feels pride swelling in his chest.

They go back to the counter to pay for the rental when Dazai suggests Chuuya get some accessories. Chuuya protests at first, but Dazai pouts and whines and sulks and basically throws a damned tantrum like he’s literally and not just mentally five, so Chuuya eventually gives in.

Dazai picks out two kanzashi, both the same in design but differing in colour. It’s a simple pin with leaves shaped ornaments hanging from the end of it; simple but elegant. Dazai eventually picks the red one, claiming that it’ll match Chuuya’s hair.

“I’ll do it ~ ” Dazai announces jovially as he positions himself behind Chuuya.

The staff laughs and nods, though she remains in the room. Chuuya mentally applauds her for her intelligence. There is such a high chance that the kanzashi doesn't make it out of this alive.

“Look into the mirror, Chuuya,” Dazai complains as he holds Chuuya’s head gently and shifts it.

Their eyes make contact for a brief second in the mirror. Dazai’s eyes are warm and gentle, and Chuuya quickly looks away when he feels his treacherous heart pounding away. There’s that annoying chuckle again, but Chuuya bites back his retort when he feels Dazai tugging on his hair. Dazai’s touch is gentle and familiar as he carefully arranges Chuuya’s hair.

Chuuya’s transported back to a time in the past where Dazai used to help him style his hair. It was when he was still living with Kouyou at the courtesan house and there was a need to maintain his appearance. They would chat about trivial things, and simply bask in each other’s company. Things were a lot more simple back then. His heart twinges painfully at the reminder, and he distracts himself from those haunting thoughts by focusing on what Dazai’s doing with his hair.

Dazai curls his hair into an artful bun before sliding the kanzashi in. He then proceeds to twist the long lock falling down his left shoulder around the dangling ornaments, and even Chuuya has to admit that he’s impressed by Dazai’s skills. It does make him wonder if Dazai has been practising lately, though he firmly pushes those thoughts out of his mind.

“All set!”

“It looks good,” Chuuya says grudgingly.

He pays (of course) for the both of them before they head back out onto the streets. Kyoto has awakened now, and the streets are bustling with a life and vigour that weren’t present when they first entered the kimono rental shop.

“Chuuya ~ Chuuya ~ I’m hungry. Let’s eat!”

“Would you quit whining! I get it. Let’s go.”

Dazai’s surprisingly cooperative as he lets Chuuya choose the place. The redhead picks a traditional inn that serves a wholesome Japanese breakfast – rice, miso soup, and fish – and its scrumptiousness isn’t even ruined by Dazai’s presence. (Dazai seems to like it too, but that’s not why he’s smiling.)

They spend the rest of the morning strolling around Kyoto in a slow and relaxed pace that they could never afford back in Yokohama. Dazai’s surprisingly quiet, but there’s a smile on his face as he takes in the sights and sounds of the city. Chuuya would have thought that he’d make use of the chance to harass him to no end, but Dazai proves to be a perfect companion.

At least until they chance upon a street stall selling roasted chestnuts.

Dazai’s eyes sparkles with all the force of a thousand stars as he happily grabs Chuuya’s arm and pulls him over to the store.

“One packet, please!” he chirps, wearing that grin that Chuuya loves so…

Anyway, it’s amusing and kind of endearing to watch Dazai eagerly bouncing on the balls of his feet as he waits for his food. The sight inevitably brings a smile to Chuuya’s face, though he puts the cause down to the sweet smell of the chestnuts wafting in the air.

Dazai moans in appreciation as soon as he pops the first chestnut into his mouth, and Chuuya laughs.

“It’s too fast to know whether it’s delicious, right?”

Dazai swallows and beams at Chuuya, holding the packet out. “It’s absolutely delicious though! Try it, Chuuya!”

Chuuya smiles and obliges. “Mm, it is good!”

They share the packet of chestnuts as they continue their tour of the city, and Dazai buys another packet as soon as they run out. They visit Kinkakuji and Kiyomizudera, and Dazai buys a new packet of chestnuts every time they leave each location. In the end, they’re too full to have a proper lunch so they choose a café that has a scenic view of the Kamo River.

Dazai sighs in bliss as he stares out at it.

“It was a beautiful morning.”

Chuuya’s eyebrow twitches, and he scoffs. “I swear, if you’re thinking about that river – ”

“Of course I’m talking about you, Chuuya,” Dazai cuts in, his voice low and serious.

Chuuya’s breath gets caught in his throat and his treacherous heart skips a beat again. Dazai then bursts out laughing, and Chuuya feels like the biggest idiot on earth.

“I’m just joking.” Dazai smirks. “Mon petite Chuuya.”

“Not yours. Not small.”

“Not Chuuya?”

Chuuya growls.

“Also, for your information, Chuuya, the average height for men in Japan is 172. You’re miniature. Import from Lilliput. Well, I guess that makes you special.”

Chuuya resists the urge to splash hot coffee on Dazai’s sorry face.

“And which pyramid did you crawl out from? Bet the pharaoh you were buried with got so sick of your face that he had you evicted.”

Dazai laughs. “We’re not living in a fairy tale, Chuuya.”

Dazai’s tone is poignant and Chuuya feels like there’s meaning in the words, but he ignores them and retorts, “you’re the one who brought Lilliput up first.”

“Fair enough.”

Chuuya rolls his eyes and takes a sip of his coffee that he almost spits back out when Dazai lets out a horrified shout, drawing the attention of other patrons.

“What? What?” Chuuya asks as he looks around wildly.

Dazai’s pointing at him with another hand covering his mouth again. He’s shaking, and his finger is trembling. Chuuya’s starting to feel a little worried despite his better sense telling him this is just another ruse.

“Dazai, what’s wrong?”

“You- You – ”

“What?” Chuuya snaps.

“You’re wearing your hat!”

At his exclamation, the other customers turn to look at Chuuya and Chuuya feels his face turning red. Okay, so people don’t normally wear hats with kimono. So what?

“You notice this now?” he shouts, apparently scary enough that the other people stop staring and return to their lives. “It has been, what, six hours?! For fuck’s sake, you styled my hair with it on!”

Dazai’s eyes widen. “I have no such recollection.”

“Idiot.”

“Are you sure your hat doesn't have an Ability?”

“Even if it does, it wouldn't work on you, genius.”

Dazai lets out another shout.

“What now!”

He holds up a white paper bag, a pout on his face. “I ran out of chestnuts.”

Chuuya sighs. “Let’s go get them.”

Dazai cheers and runs out of the store. Chuuya sighs again, wondering what he did to be saddled with a child in a man’s body. And, oh great, he lost the child. He’d make such a bad chaperon. He looks around but can’t spot the other man anywhere. A thought occurs to him and he frowns. He turns back to look at the river… it can’t be… right?

Chuuya goes and check it out anyway. He finds Dazai standing on the riverbank, staring out at the river. A fear, cold in its familiarity, seeps into his heart. He forces a nonchalant expression onto his face as he walks over to Dazai.

“If you fall into the river, I’m not paying for the damages,” he warns.

Dazai chuckles at that, but it doesn't have the lively ring to it anymore. The fear locks itself in Chuuya’s heart, and he has to consciously breathe in and out to stay calm.

“Chuuya…”

Something in Dazai’s voice compels Chuuya to look at him. He wants to look away the moment he sees the exposed look of hurt and pain on Dazai’s face. The burden of living is written all over it. He steels himself and continues staring straight at him.

“Would you… would you let me go if I want to go?”

“Didn’t I already?” Chuuya snaps in reply. Dazai’s not talking about the Mafia – Chuuya knows that, but acknowledging what Dazai’s truly talking about is too scary.

Dazai simply smiles and shakes his head. “You know what I mean.”

Chuuya slaps Dazai across the face harshly. Dazai doesn't even flinch. He doesn't turn back to look at Chuuya either.

“Fuck you, Dazai Osamu,” Chuuya spits out before he turns and walk away.

Tears threaten to fall but he keeps them at bay. It has been years since he had shed tears over that man, and he isn’t going to start now.

*

Chuuya doesn't see Dazai again until eight in the evening when they have to return the kimono. They don’t speak either as they change back into their clothing. If the store assistant notices the tense atmosphere between them, she doesn't say anything, though she does pat Chuuya on the back once, and give him a smile.

Chuuya shivers a little as he steps out into the winter night. He had been wearing his jogging attire that morning and had been intending to return to his hotel room to change but, well, Dazai happened. He’s about to walk away when he feels a coat dumped over his shoulder.

“I’m not that cold,” Dazai says, and somehow that just makes Chuuya feel worse.

It’s freezing; what the fuck does Dazai mean?

He grunts in response anyway, and continues down the crowded street. Dazai follows behind him closely. It’s only when they turn into Gion that the crowd disperses a little. The tranquillity of the night is a heavy contrast to the turbulent feelings in his heart. Eventually, he can’t take it anymore and shoves Dazai angrily.

“Why are you here? Why did you have to come and ruin my holiday?”

Dazai’s eyes widen slightly in shock and his mouth hangs agape for a moment before he composes himself.

“I’m sorry, Chuuya.”

“I don’t want your apologies! I want to know why you’re here!”

Dazai remains stubbornly quiet and Chuuya laughs drily. He shakes his head, and pulls away. This isn’t worth it. He shouldn’t have gotten his hopes up. Granted he hadn’t even realised it, but spending the day with Dazai, just the two of them away from the eyes in Yokohama… god, he hadn’t felt so happy in such a long time.

Chuuya turns away and takes the first step, but is halted by arms wrapping around him from behind. He feels Dazai trembling against him and slumps back against the taller man despite every instinct in his body screaming at him not to. He feels so tired.

“Chuuya, stay.”

No, Chuuya wants to say, you didn't stay either. I never asked, sure, but you never gave me the chance to. I didn't know you were going to leave. You could have warned me. I wouldn't have stopped you. I would have understood. But you said nothing. And now you’re asking me to stay. You’re so selfish. You’re a selfish bastard. I hate you.

He pulls away from Dazai’s embrace and turns around to stare up into Dazai’s eyes. Dazai must have seen the despair in Chuuya’s eyes, because what little light left in his own crumbles, and he pulls Chuuya into a crushing hug.

“I’m sorry, Chuuya,” he breathes out.

Chuuya sighs and hugs him back.

“It’s okay,” he says. He forgives Dazai. He always does.

They part upon hearing voices. They resolutely don’t look at each other until they’re left alone again.

“Dazai – ”

“Chuuya – ”

Dazai smiles at him. “You go first.”

Chuuya looks away. “Drink with me.”

“Whatever you want, Chuuya.”

It’s profligate, especially since Chuuya already has a hotel room, but he still books a room at an inn in Gion. He asks for the sake to be brought directly to their room. Dazai and he sit opposite each other as they wait. He feels Dazai’s eyes on him sometimes but every time he checks, Dazai’s gazing out of the window or looking around the room. He’d put it down to his imagination, but the prickling on his skin is telling enough.

The staff brings in two bottles of hot sake, and Dazai raises an eyebrow at Chuuya.

“Are you sure you can drink so much?”

Chuuya rolls his eyes. “You like it.”

Recognition lights up in Dazai’s eyes and a tender smile forms on his face. “Chuuya is so nice to me.”

Chuuya scoffs. “Pour the sake.”

“Lazy,” Dazai chides playfully, but he does as he’s told anyway.

Chuuya drowns his cup in one go, closing his eyes against the burn in his throat. It feels good, but also painful at the same time, unlike wine. When Chuuya drinks wine, he always feels good. Only good. He glances over to see Dazai closing his eyes in bliss. The man is already on his second cup, and he smacks his lips in appreciation when he’s done.

“The sake here is really different.”

“I would hope so,” Chuuya says with a scoff, “considering how much I paid for it.”

They (mostly Dazai) finish up the rest of the sake in relative silence. It’s only broken by Dazai extoling its virtues. After the staff clears the empty bottles, Chuuya brings the futons out from the closet. He almost stumbles, but Dazai catches him around the waist before he does. He wasn't going to fall, what with his Ability and all, but now he falls into Dazai’s arms.

Their eyes meet for a brief second and Dazai’s eyes trail over to his lips. Chuuya pushes Dazai away.

“I’ll get them,” Dazai says simply.

Chuuya sits in a corner as he watches Dazai set up the futons. He’s in a state of pleasant buzz, and it feels as if he’s simultaneously part of the scene as well as watching it at the same time. It feels so surreal, and Chuuya could almost fool himself into thinking this as a very domestic setting if not for the constant ache in his heart that he knows has nothing to do with the sake. Dazai fluffs up the last pillow, and turns to Chuuya with a smile.

It’s a nice smile… please always smile like that…

“All done, Chuuya.”

Chuuya nods and crawls into the futon nearest to him. Dazai turns off the lights.

“Goodnight, Chuuya.”

No. Chuuya doesn't want this day to end like this. He wiggles out of his futon and crawls over to Dazai’s.

“Bandaged freak.”

“Yeah?”

“I have something for you.”

“Wha – ”

Dazai doesn't get to reply as Chuuya presses his lips against his. It’s just a brief touch, nothing more, and then Chuuya’s pulling away. He hears Dazai’s sharp intake of breath as he does, but he can’t make out the expression of Dazai’s face in the dark.

“Goodnight,” is all he says before he goes back to his futon. He falls asleep the moment his head touches the pillow.

*

When Dazai wakes up in the morning, he’s alone and all that remains of Chuuya is his lingering scent and a note next to his folded up futon.

The tainted sorrow is

For example, like a fox’s fur

The tainted sorrow is

Covered with snow and curled up

Come find me, Dazai.

- Chuuya

Dazai clutches the note to his chest. This is Chuuya’s ultimatum.

*

The shinkansen ride back to Yokohama was supposed to be pleasant. Chuuya’s supposed to feel a lot lighter than he currently does, but now there’s heavy burden on his heart. Chuuya sighs, and gets into the car waiting for him at the exit.

“How are you, Chuuya-san? I hope you enjoyed your vacation.”

There’s something strange about the way Akutagawa is saying this that makes Chuuya immediately suspicious. Actually, the fact that Akutagawa is even saying such things is already enough to warrant suspicion. It’s awfully easy to put two and two together, especially after Akutagawa shoots him a glance that’s full of guilt.

“Akutagawa,” Chuuya starts slowly, and the younger man tenses.

“Yes, Chuuya-san?”

“You wouldn't believe who I met in Kyoto.”

“Oh, who did you meet?”

Akutagawa is so bad at playing innocent that a murderer with blood on his hands has a better chance of getting away scot-free.

“Dazai.”

“Oh, interesting.”

“Akutagawa.”

Akutagawa sighs and pulls up at the nearest parking space. Chuuya folds his arms and glares at the younger one.

“It was supposed to be my vacation! Which part of a vacation entails that stinky mackerel?”

“I’m sorry,” Akutagawa says, his head bowed, and at least he seems sincere enough.

“Why?”

Akutagawa hesitates.

Chuuya growls. “I am ordering you as an Executive to tell me, so you better spill.”

“He said he had something important to tell you,” Akutagawa says in a rush.

Chuuya doesn't reply. He has a good idea of what Dazai had wanted to say before he chickened out. Chuuya scoffs. Fucking coward. Fucking bastard.

Akutagawa peers at him.

“Chuuya-san…?”

Chuuya glares at him. “I’m letting you off this time, but don’t you dare do it again.”

“Yes, Chuuya-san.”

Bullshit. Akutagawa can’t say ‘no’ to Dazai; he’s been classically conditioned. But, whatever. Chuuya doesn't want to deal with that now. He has other things to think about.

*

Kitsune-no-Gyoretsu.

Fox parade.

It’s a tradition for the important members of the Mafia to watch the parade before their hatsumode. They don’t have to stick together for the parade, but they have to gather at the designated temple in the morning for the hatsumode.

Chuuya’s wearing a more elaborated kimono than back in Kyoto; of course, since Kouyou chose it for him. It’s a red kimono with a haori that starts off with dark orange that gradually fades into white at the bottom. There are pictures of black wild geese scattered around the haori, and a red sun on his left shoulder.

“Are you waiting for someone?” Kouyou asks casually though there’s a sharp look in her eyes.

There’s really no use lying to her.

“Yes.”

“Someone I know?”

“Yes.”

Kouyou sighs.

“Ane-san – ”

“I haven’t said anything, lad.”

Chuuya falls silent.

“I’m only going to ask one thing: are you sure?”

Chuuya lets out a long sigh and looks at Kouyou.

“I don’t know,” he says honestly. “All I know is that it’s been a while since I felt so happy. Anyway, it’s not up to me. The decision lies with him.”

Surprise flickers across Kouyou’s eyes.

“You gave him an ultimatum?”

“He comes to me tonight, or he disappears from my life. Ane-san, I’m tired of this… game.”

Kouyou hums again. “Well, he did seem pretty desperate when he came to demand your whereabouts from Akutagawa.”

“Did he now?”

“He probably panicked over it for a few days before coming.”

“Days? More like weeks!”

The two turn and see Kunikida standing there, his arms crossed.

“Pardon?” Kouyou asks.

“It’s true,” Atsushi pipes up from beside Kunikida. “Dazai-san had been out of sorts ever since, well, a month ago. It took all our combined efforts to corner him, and find out what’s going on. He finally decided to talk to you, Chuuya-san, but you weren’t there.”

“It basically gave him a panic attack,” Kunikida cuts in with a roll of his eyes. “He wouldn't stop moping for days. And then I had to carve time out of my already packed schedule – I mean it’s the end of the year, and you know how busy end of the year’s are! – to literally force him onto the shinkansen to Kyoto. What a waste of time!”

Chuuya can’t stop the dumb smile from spreading onto his face, and Kouyou steps in front of him.

“Thank you for the information,” she says before she grabs Chuuya’s arms and hauls him off.

Chuuya grins at her. “Ane-san, did you hear that?”

“Of course I did. I’m not deaf. Look at you, silly boy. Getting so giddy just because that brat has feelings for you.”

Chuuya blinks.

“… That’s not what I’m happy about.”

Kouyou raises an eyebrow.

“Oh, please, Ane-san, anyone with brains can tell that he can’t live without me!”

Kouyou’s brow goes up further. Chuuya scoffs.

“Point is he suffered for over a month, and I caused it! Well, not directly, but still. Vengeance is sweet and all.”

Kouyou stares at him in disbelief for a few seconds before laughing. “I did raise you after all!”

“And why were you having doubts?”

“Well, look at your taste in men.”

“I’m pretty that was a result of yo – ”

Kouyou promptly stops laughing and stares at him.

“Of my stupidity.”

The other Executive smiles at him before patting his head once.

“That’s a good lad.”

Chuuya smiles back at her meekly. Then he sighs.

“But the problem is… it never was his feelings, you know? It was always about whether he dared to act on them… whether he thinks I'm worth it… whether I’m reason enough for him to live…”

Kouyou places a comforting hand on his shoulder. “We’ll find out tonight, won’t we?”

Chuuya heaves a sigh, a part of him already resigned to a bad ending. “I guess we will.”

*

The parade is about to start soon, and Chuuya thinks that maybe it is time to give up. Maybe Dazai didn't even get the hint that he was supposed to come to this place. No, that can’t be it. Dazai used to be in the Port Mafia after all. He knows about this tradition. And the word ‘fox’ was in the poem. Dazai’s not that dense. If he isn’t here yet, that means he doesn't want to be here.

Chuuya tells himself that he doesn't care. He looks down at the fox mask in his hand. He suddenly feels so stupid bringing this particular mask. It has been five years since he had worn it, and he had practically sworn never to again. It’s a beautiful mask, though. It’s white and the intricate designs are drawn in mostly red and a bit of gold ink. The eyes, bolded with red, are especially exquisite. The ears bear the most gold with some markings in red.

It’s almost painful to look at and Chuuya lifts it over his face so he doesn't have to look at it. He turns to his side, and gasps slightly when he sees an almost exact replica of his mask. The only difference is that the base of that mask is black and not white. The designs are all the same. Chuuya doesn't move; he’s done taking the first step. He sees Dazai making his way over, but his advance is interrupted by the swarm of people that surge forward as the parade starts.

Chuuya’s heart pounds against his ribcage, doing a perfect imitation of Corruption trying to break free of his control. He looks around, but he can’t find the black fox mask amidst all the other masks. Could it be that Dazai had come only to give up at the last second? It would be typical of him, but Chuuya really hopes not. As the procession continues, Chuuya swears that he catches fleeting glimpses of it every now and then, but it’s never long enough for him to be certain.

He can’t believe that he has to wait for almost an hour before this is over.

An hour is plenty of time for Dazai to run.

It feels like forever before they reach Oji Inari Shrine, and Chuuya doesn't even know what he’s feeling anymore. It’s a mix of excitement and inevitable disappointment and exhaustion and slight happiness and a desperate clinging on to hope. He watches the lion dance performance through a haze, and when everything is finally over, he doesn't dare to move.

What if he tries to find Dazai only to realise that he’s really gone?

What if Dazai was never even here in the first place?

What if this time… what if this time he really loses him?

Chuuya’s hand falls to his side and the mask finally falls off as well.

Just give up, Chuuya. Were you really hoping he’d come?

Yes, Chuuya wants to scream but all that leaves his mouth is a choked sob.

His sob turns into a gasp as someone engulfs him into a tight hug from behind.

“I finally found you.”

Chuuya’s eyes widen, and he struggles out of the hold to turn around. Dazai’s eyes are warm and bright as he smiles down at Chuuya.

“Hey, there.”

Chuuya reaches out a shaky hand to touch Dazai’s cheek, letting out a soft sigh when he touches actual flesh. He slaps Dazai, and Dazai grunts before turning back.

“You came.”

“You didn't leave me with much choice, Chuuya.”

“You – ”

“I’m glad you didn't.”

Chuuya falls silent at that.

“You… did you come to Kyoto to look for me?”

“Yes…”

Chuuya looks up into Dazai’s eyes, and he sees nothing but sincerity shining through. Sincerity and something else that he doesn't dare name for fear it’ll be wrong, or worse, gone.

“Why did you look for me? What did you want to tell me?”

Chuuya can see the struggle in Dazai’s eyes, can see how much Dazai is fighting himself. He grabs Dazai’s hand, and his eyes briefly land on the black fox mask held in Dazai’s other hand. It’s a match with his mask. They made it together when they were younger. Chuuya looks back into Dazai’s eyes, and it hurts him to see the insecurity and worthlessness in Dazai’s eyes.

“Tell me, Dazai, please.”

“I went to look for you… I went to look for you to tell you how much… how much you mean… how much you mean to me…”

Chuuya’s face softens and a smile breaks out onto his face. It’s enough. For now, that’s enough.

“Dazai – ”

Dazai cuts him off as he leans in and kisses Chuuya. The redhead gasps, his eyes widening. He had kissed Dazai just the previous night, but they had never actually kissed before. Chuuya’s eyes fall shut, and he wraps his arms around Dazai’s neck. He has to stand on his tiptoes to do so, but Dazai’s arms are his waist, holding him up, and he can’t feel anything besides the taste of Dazai’s lips. They part, and they’re panting as they look into each other’s eyes.

“Chuuya, what I’m trying to say is that I love you. I love you, and I want to be with you.”

“I love you too!” Chuuya cries in response as he throws his arms around Dazai.

Dazai wraps his arms around him and presses a kiss against his forehead. He pulls back slightly and smiles down at Chuuya.

“Happy New Year, hat rack.”

Chuuya grins back.

“Happy New Year, bandaged bastard.”

Dazai leans in for another kiss, and Chuuya thinks that there can be no better start to a new year than this.

They’re still smiling as they part.

“Hey, Chuuya.”

“Yeah?”

“Can we please go get a pack of roasted chestnuts?”

Chuuya rolls his eyes, but he grabs Dazai’s hand anyway. The resulting smile on Dazai’s face makes his heart flutter.

“Let’s go, partner.”

Dazai laughs. “Sure thing, partner.”