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It was Halloween.
It was this time of year that Dazai enjoyed the most. That burned his blood with adrenaline more than any other. For some reason or another, the thought of tricking someone, rather than treating, was infinitely more satisfying, more thrilling. The month of October, but the end of the month specifically, was joyously adventurous.
This year, unsurprisingly, Dazai had opted to spend it with the Armed Detective Agency. A twist to business, however, that took months of convincing to get Kunikida and Fukuzawa to appreciate and concede to. The plan, cleverly devised by Ranpo, Dazai, Yosano, and surprisingly Atsushi, had them hosting the Port Mafia as guests while their young children trick-or-treated around the neighbourhood (courtesy of Nakahara Chuuya’s influence). Dazai was well-informed of Chuuya’s knack of trick-or-treating. While being a Mafia Executive, Chuuya never had the opportunity to be a kid. Nor did Dazai, to be exact. But Chuuya had hardly even remembered the contents of his life before he was biologically seven.
In actuality, it was Ranpo’s idea to trick Chuuya into it, to get Chuuya to join in with the kids in the haunted house.
Dazai figured that Ranpo knew something by deduction alone. Ranpo, after all, was not stupid.
Halloween night was what Dazai looked forward to the most. The hours it took that morning to put his makeup on (to look as much like a real life bandage as possible) meant nothing to Dazai. The fabric encasing his body was nothing short of the devotion he had for the night that was Halloween. The difficulty in walking with his feet joined would never be for naught. Realistically speaking, it was like walking in a sleeping bag with a giant hat falling in front of his face all day.
The giant bandage? That was Kunikida’s idea, a genuinely sarcastic comment that Dazai took seriously out of spite.
The Armed Detective Agency was gloriously decorated. Pride swelled up in Dazai’s chest when the trick-or-treaters whirled in like a storm, flooding the room with screams of fear and compliments of astonishment alike. And Dazai hadn’t seemed to be the only one positively affected either. Kunikida’s eyes seemed to twinkle more with every single cheer or clap thrown his way.
Unbeknownst to the rest of the Armed Detective Agency, Dazai and Ranpo had tag-teamed, predicted the exact moment that the Port Mafia’s goons, executive, and dog would arrive. With efficient precision, too.
Silence did not fall upon the room when a total of seven young mafiosi, one executive, and one sub executive walked into the front door. Of course, Dazai had guessed that there would be danger in allowing Akutagawa and Chuuya into the Agency’s office.
“Alright, bastard, we’re here for the haunted house,” was the scoff Chuuya had thrown in Dazai’s direction, as if knowing despite being in utter darkness his exact whereabouts.
Dazai would have definitely been alarmed if Chuuya hadn’t.
With an easy stride, Dazai glided over to Chuuya’s and Akutagawa’s whereabouts. To Dazai’s observation, they stood oddly close to one another.
Almost as though they had been holding hands.
A surge of jealousy thumped through Dazai’s veins. Strong, but not overwhelming. Not a feeling that would overcome Dazai entirely. Key word, entirely.
Placing a fabric-covered palm onto Chuuya’s shoulder, Dazai pushed the mafioso into the maze of fear and adrenaline. In a matter of no time, he was chiming, “Come along, children! I, the sentient bandage, will guide you through this adventurous monster house!” His other hand motioned toward Atsushi, clad in a squirrel costume, “Accompanied by my humble assistant, Frankenstein!”
“So Jinko was hiding in that Frankenstein outfit,” Akutagawa muttered under his breath.
“I don’t know of any ‘Jinko’, Mr Edgy Man!” Dazai negated gently. “His name is Frankenstein.” That definitely resulted in Dazai getting the death glare by both Chuuya and Akutagawa.
Atsushi opted to drone on, much to Dazai’s dismay, often interrupted by screams of terror from the children. Dazai, clung to Chuuya’s side. From this angle of observation, Dazai was able to appreciate the intricacies of the executive’s Halloween outfit. It seemed as though as he tried to portray himself as an evil spirit, his face painted purple other than the hat on his head. His eyes adorned red eye contacts to conceal his dull grey eyes. His jackets flowing like a dress of velvet, dancing like an ocean against the ground. He obviously put more careful consideration into his outfit than Dazai had.
Perhaps it came from Chuuya’s internalized view of himself.
Dazai decided to ignore the jabs that Atsushi and Akutagawa (almost lovingly) threw at each other. Each one had gentle sparkles of respect intertwined with each and every one that was stated. They had grown, and Dazai was proud.
Though that had less importance at the moment than the fact that Chuuya was standing right next to Dazai, within arm’s reach. Unlike the children he brought, he seemed rather unfazed by the horrors becoming more apparent as the time went on. Of course, he reacted accordingly to how the children would, but none of it seemed genuine in Dazai’s eyes.
It caused Dazai to be... worried? Perhaps worried was not the correct word...
It took no time at all for them to go through the maze. Chuuya hardly spoke to Dazai in that time frame, made odd remarks to the kids and to Atsushi and Akutagawa, sometimes leaning into Atsushi’s ear to compliment the design of the haunted house.
But despite their close proximity, and Dazai’s attempts at conversation, Dazai’s attempts remained unrequited.
“C’mon, Chibi,” Dazai murmured the moment they found their way out of the maze, grabbing onto Chuuya’s palm (or, rather, trying to, with minimal results). Chuuya came, with no restraint in the matter.
Frowning, Dazai glared down at Chuuya as the mafioso shot, “What the fuck do you want, Dazai? I have kids to take trick-or-treating.” Chuuya’s face resembled something Dazai hadn’t seen any other Halloween that they’d spent together before. Indifference.
“You seem like you don’t care about Halloween anymore,” Dazai commented, blinking his eyes as though the fact were obvious to the both of them.
“Yeah, well, what do you expect? I’m twenty-three, Dazai. I’m too fucking old for this shit. It’s not fun,” Chuuya drawled.
“You can never be too old for Halloween!” The giant bandage threw up his arms in recoil, dropping them down as he bent over his stomach. “Please let me show you how fun Halloween can be.”
“No.”
“Please, Chibiiii.”
“No.”
“PLEASE.”
“NO.”
“Please, Chuuuuyaaaa.”
Dazai jumped onto Chuuya, pressing him into the ground, decided to slobber all over him, like a wound oozing onto its bandage. “Pleeeeeease,” he continued, not even awaiting for the denial of the last plea.
Pushing Dazai off of him, Chuuya groaned. Dazai got caught in all of the clothing surrounding their almost intertwined feet. His face pressed into the palm of his hand with a sigh. “Fucking fine. Only if you promise to wash my clothes from your slobber. And get the hell off of me.”
Doing as he was told, the giant bandage got off of Chuuya. And needless to say, Chuuya had the time of his life that night (although, he wouldn’t admit it).