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“Take me back to headquarters,” Chuuya gasps. Blood crusts his mouth and soaks his clothes.
Kunikida takes a sharp breath. There are thousands of arguments rising up his throat, but he settles for carding his fingers through Chuuya’s hair. Dazai keeps giving Kunikida a look, and Kunikida knows what it means but he doesn’t want to think about it right now.
Chuuya passes out in his lap.
Dazai explains for the first time what Corruption is and the toll it takes on Chuuya’s body.
After Chuuya is taken away to get patched up by Yosano before being returned to the Mafia, Dazai sits on Kunikida’s desk to distract him from writing the report on the joint mission.
“This is what he’ll do for the Mafia,” Dazai says. “This is what he’ll subject himself to. Nothing you say will make a difference.”
“He’s a--” Kunikida stops.
Dazai barks a laugh. “A good person?” His voice is almost mocking. “He didn’t save your life that time out of a sense of heroism. He even told you that.”
Kunikida knows that. But he also knows that when he talked to Chuuya after things settled down, he found someone worth getting to know. He wanted to talk to Chuuya more often. He wanted to get inside the head of someone with principals, someone who cared, yet who still chose to work against the side of good.
Chuuya was less interested in talk and more interested in sparring Kunikida to size up what he had to offer as a work partner. And then, somehow, they ended up kissing.
“You’re attractive,” he’d said while pinning Kunikida to the wall in a position that Dazai happily described to Kunikida as a “kabedon.”
Chuuya is attractive. Chuuya was very attractive in that moment, eyes bright, lips curled into a grin, cheeks slightly flushed from exertion and hair just this side of unkempt. Chuuya had won the sparring match, in more ways than one.
For the first time in his life, Kunikida got carried away.
They don’t see each other every night. Their relationship, as sudden as it is, as illicit as it seems, is actually relatively chaste. They go for drinks, or meet for lunch. They talk a lot. A lot. Kunikida has always been good at words. Chuuya is good at action. He convinces Kunikida to spar every so often, and sometimes, they kiss.
A lot.
Then real life gets in the way.
Kunikida didn’t know about Corruption until this joint mission. He feels slightly hurt that Chuuya didn’t tell him for about five minutes until he reasons with himself that there was no reason for Chuuya to tell him. There are other things Kunikida needs to worry about.
Chuuya is not a good person.
Dazai is staring at Kunikida as if waiting for him to admit that out loud.
“He isn’t irredeemable,” Kunikida says.
“He’s a Mafia Executive,” Dazai says.
“He has principals,” Kunikida says. “He cares. He knows what kind of person he aspires to be.” Chuuya had told him as much. He’d joined the Mafia to better himself. The details were vague, because Chuuya didn’t trust him enough to completely give away his life story, but he did tell Kunikida why he’d made the choice.
“Kunikida-kun,” Dazai sighs. “That may be true, but will you really be able to accept what that means to Chuuya?”
“What do you mean?”
“You don’t know everything the Mafia does,” Dazai says. “You see them from an outsider’s point of view. Chuuya joined the Mafia to better himself, so that the people who trust him will be able to put their full trust in him. So that he can be what they need him to be. But did you think about what that means?”
“I’m trying to be the same thing,” Kunikida says.
Dazai shakes his head. “You’re trying to operate within a certain set of ideals. To Chuuya, nothing matters except that his people can trust him. What he does to make sure that’s true...he’ll do anything.”
“Like sacrifice his life,” Kunikida says. That kind of thing is familiar to him. He can relate.
Dazai shakes his head again. “No. Not just that. Ask him yourself.”
Kunikida stares at Dazai.
Dazai gives him a sad smile. “I was called the demon prodigy when I was in the Mafia. But I was only one half of Soukoku. Chuuya was my partner.”
That, more than anything else, makes Kunikida understand.
He feels sick.
*
Kunikida is not one to shy away from things, but he doesn’t want to talk about this.
It was easier to not know about Dazai’s past in the Mafia. It’s easier to not know what Chuuya will do for his organization beyond what Kunikida has seen for himself.
He knows some of the things Chuuya has done. He’d used their office girls as bait in the war against the Guild. He’d given the order for the Mafia to match the Agency’s attempt to protect Fukuzawa’s life by eliminating the Agency after negotiations failed. He’d killed people, and enjoyed it.
But Dazai is a better man. Dazai has done many things like that, and worse. Kunikida still trusts him. Dazai was able to change.
Chuuya invites him over for a drink two days after they’d returned from the latest mission. Kunikida doesn’t like how unwell Chuuya looks when he gets to Chuuya’s apartment. Corruption must do this to him every time. Dazai says that Chuuya doesn’t like to use it unless he finds it absolutely necessary.
“You could have died,” is the first thing he says.
Chuuya turns away, heading for the kitchen. “I didn’t invite you for a drink so you could be sad.”
“You shouldn’t be drinking like this,” Kunikida says. “You should be resting.”
Chuuya waves a hand. Kunikida notices he’s wearing gloves, even inside, even dressed in casual clothes in the comfort of his own apartment. He’s still wearing his choker as well.
“I’ve rested enough,” Chuuya says.
“I don’t want to drink,” Kunikida says.
Chuuya puts down the wine bottle he’d been in the process of opening. “What do you want to do?”
“I want you to rest,” Kunikida says.
Chuuya’s shoulders slump. “What does that even mean?”
“You should sleep,” Kunikida says. “I’ll make sure you can. I won’t leave until you’ve had the proper amount of rest.”
“It takes days to recover,” Chuuya mutters. But Kunikida senses hesitation.
“Have you been sleeping since you got back?” he asks. He recognizes some of Chuuya’s mannerisms of avoidance as ones he’s seen in Dazai.
Chuuya sighs. “Fine. Fine, I’ll sleep.”
He brushes past Kunikida on the way to the bedroom and Kunikida follows him.
This is new territory in every way. Kunikida has never been in Chuuya’s bedroom. He’s never accompanied another person to sleep. Chuuya flops into the bed and buries his face in a pillow. Kunikida sits on the vacant side and notices that despite the appearance of being relaxed, the lines of Chuuya’s back are tense.
He reaches over and rests his hand against Chuuya’s head.
Chuuya takes a sharp breath. Kunikida brushes his fingers through Chuuya’s hair and then trails them along Chuuya’s spine, repeating the action again and again. Chuuya’s breathing evens out, and he relaxes completely.
Kunikida closes his eyes. Maybe he, too, will sleep.
The bed shifts and Chuuya jerks upright, gasping for air.
Kunikida is fully awake before he can even comprehend what exactly happened. Chuuya is sitting up, but he twists away so that Kunikida can’t see his face. His shoulders shake--his entire body shakes, and his hands clutch the blankets hard enough that his skin looks bloodless.
“Chuuya,” Kunikida says softly.
“I’m not going back to sleep,” Chuuya says after a moment. He pushes himself off the bed and stalks into the kitchen.
Kunikida follows, and watches as Chuuya shakily grabs a glass that is very much not a wine glass and pours wine into it anyway.
“Chuuya,” Kunikida says, his voice sharper.
Chuuya glares at him. “What.”
The words spill out of Kunikida’s mouth before he can stop them. “This is what being in the Mafia does to you.”
Chuuya puts the glass down hard enough that it sounds like it might break. It doesn’t.
“What exactly do you mean by ‘this’?” Chuuya asks. “Do you mean the nightmares? Or how shit I feel right now? The drinking?” There’s a sharp edge to his voice and Kunikida is dangerously close to cutting himself on it.
“Yes,” Kunikida says. “Chuuya-”
“You get nightmares too,” Chuuya snaps. “You get injured. You may not drink, but I’m sure you have shit ways of coping. Like ignoring the problems right in front of you because they’re too hard to accept.”
“What?” Kunikida goes still.
“You want me to leave the Mafia,” Chuuya says.
“It’s not good for you,” Kunikida says. “If Dazai can leave-”
“I’m not Dazai,” Chuuya snarls, and now he looks furious. “Don’t--if I left the Mafia, it would go against everything I believe. I wouldn’t forgive myself. It’s hard. It’s fucked up. But the Agency is also hard. I didn’t promise to give my life to the Agency. I didn’t gain the trust of the Agency. There are people in the Mafia who rely on me and I refuse to betray them.”
“The Mafia will kill you,” Kunikida says. “You’re better than this.”
“Ah.” Chuuya takes a deep breath. “So that’s the kind of person you think I am.” He moves forward, too fast, to grab Kunikida’s shirt and pull him down so they’re at eye level. “I have more of a sense of responsibility than Dazai. I care more than Dazai. But that doesn’t mean anything. I’m willing to kill for the Mafia. I’m willing to kidnap, maim, torture, blackmail, as long as it means my people are safe. I’m willing to die. Get it? I’m willing to do anything.”
Kunikida doesn’t know what to say. Chuuya’s eyes burn.
“The Mafia isn’t killing me,” Chuuya says. “There are other things that might be, but in the end it doesn’t matter. This is what I want.” He lets go of Kunikida’s shirt, pushing him back as he does. Kunikida stumbles, but Chuuya has already returned to his glass of wine. “If you can’t accept it, that’s fine. Just don’t make me into a different person. I’ve never pretended to be anyone else.”
Kunikida manages to choke out a “goodnight,” before he stumbles out of the apartment.
Once he’s back in his own bed, he can’t sleep.
Because as harsh as Chuuya’s words were, as much as those facts have shaken him to his core, he can’t dismiss Chuuya as a person. He doesn’t want to. That’s the most horrifying thing of all.
Part of him still wants Chuuya to be part of his life.
He doesn’t know if he can reconcile that part of him with the part that rejects everything the Port Mafia and people like them stand for.
*
“Your moral crisis is getting in the way of your sleeping habits,” Dazai says two days later.
Kunikida glares at him, but Dazai doesn’t seem bothered.
“You’re only having a crisis because despite everything you know, you still respect him as a person,” Dazai says. “Isn’t life hard?” His voice is almost taunting.
“Shut up,” Kunikida mutters.
Dazai sighs. “Life is hard,” he says, but this time he sounds a bit sad.
Life is hard. Kunikida wishes it wasn’t.
*
Chuuya will never leave the Port Mafia.
Chuuya will do terrible things for the Port Mafia.
Chuuya will die for the Port Mafia, if he has to.
Kunikida knows all this, and Dazai is right. There’s a strange kind of respect he holds for someone who can be so dedicated, for someone who can both do all of those terrible things out of necessity and still care about others. Who can make hard decisions because he cares about others.
It’s not good. Chuuya’s reasoning is flawed. He isn’t a good person, and sometimes he can be a terrible one.
But he’s honest. He never lied to Kunikida. He’s never strayed from what he feels is right, even if his right is Kunikida’s wrong.
Kunikida doesn’t know how to reconcile his ideals with Chuuya’s, and maybe he never will. He doesn’t think he’ll ever come to terms with Chuuya’s decisions or his actions, because they are the decisions and actions of a criminal.
But he can respect Chuuya.
He doesn’t want Chuuya out of his life. Chuuya isn’t ideal, but he has something Kunikida needs.
So he makes his way to Chuuya’s apartment that night to explain how he feels. He knows that Chuuya will listen and try to understand.