Work Text:
It was supposed to be a regular and routine mission for the two of them, about as regular and routine as it could get. Just simple negotiation with another boss from another organization threatening their city.
Having a current truce between their two organizations, it was expected that Dazai would have to work with Chuya more often than not. They were a good team in every meaning of the word, together they could take down an entire organization.
As soon as he was chosen as an intermediary for the president, he knew that the chibi would be accompanying him on the mission. They’d been sent to negotiate things together after all, they had always succeeded in their past missions. They weren’t called soukoku for nothing.
The were rumors that still followed them, surrounded them like dense fog. Rumors that still kept people on their toes. He could never escape from them, his fate was and always will be intertwined with Chuuya’s.
It was a cloudy and biting winter evening when everything changed. The intel they received was just as horrible as the weather, lacking anything truly useful about who the leader of the new organization was.
But it was alright, Dazai figured, they had gone through much worse before with a lot less information. Granted, they’d barely gotten out alive, death’s reach had never been closer.
That’s what truly led them here, standing in front of an abandoned hospital outside the city. Chuuya looked horrible, bone deep exhaustion causing him to barely participate in their usual bantering.
They were escorted down into the basement upon entering, the grunts in the lobby were tense and gave off a nervous aura. The lobby itself was old, crumbling with age, the floor and walls cracked and caked with a thin layer of dirt. The stairs they were ushered down creaked with every step, the old wood splintered and coarse to the touch.
They were greeted by a long table, the dim lights shining on a thin and frail-looking woman at the head of it. Food was set out, served with a glass of red wine, but Dazai knew better than to trust anything that’s given to them here.
He took a seat and noticed that Chuuya had opted to stand. Ah, still following their routine, even four years later? Dazai’s chest tightened, it was warm. Still, he kept his face devoid of any emotion, carefully blank.
The woman smirked, her cracked lips stretching into a smile. She hummed,” Welcome Dazai-san, Nakahara-san. I’m sure you’re eager to begin negotiations but first I’d like you to dine with me.” She gestured for Chuuya to sit in the chair next to him.
Dazai sent a charming smile of his own back and opened his mouth to reply, but she cut him off,” And before you ask. No, the food isn’t poisoned.”
The food wasn’t poisoned, his eyes cut to Chuuya. He saw the spark of understanding in the other’s blue eyes when their eyes met. Don’t drink the wine.
They ate in silence. It was late and Dazai was willing to bet they both already had eaten at least something, but he still picked at the western roasted chicken breast. Out of the corner of his eye he could see Chuuya had done the same, picking at the chicken and some of the asparagus.
When the woman finished, she held up her glass of wine and motioned for the both of them to follow. “A toast,” she chimed,” to fruitful negotiations and for the peace of this city.” Then as an afterthought, she added,” If it makes you feel any better, only one drink is poisoned. It’s a fifty fifty chance. I’m being generous, so at least one of you needs to drink or the deal’s off.”
They glanced at each other and before Dazai could do anything to stop him, Chuuya drank the red liquid and placed the empty glass back down. It was quick and unrefined, very unlike how he usually drank wine. It was a struggle to keep his face blank, especially when Chuuya immediately turned to face the woman, not sparing him a glance.
The woman smiled lightly, took a long sip of her wine, and put down the glass. “Alright,” she said,” let’s begin.” Dazai just needed to get through the negotiation and make sure Chuuya got out of here alive.
They began talking.
Chuuya’s eyes started to droop, weights threatening to make them close, but he couldn’t blame that on whatever was in the drink entirely. He had been extremely tired going into this, but usually Chuuya was really alert throughout missions. Usually forcing himself to push it aside.
Whatever she had given Chuuya was potent
Dazai could tell the woman was trying to stall by talking in circles, giving the poison time to work through Chuuya’s body, trying to make Dazai desperate enough to get Chuuya out of there, to agree to any deal she wanted. It was working, but he kept her from catching on.
Almost two hours had passed before he saw sweat beading at Chuuya’s brow.
Another thirty minutes passed before it got worse.
Shit.
Just what had she slipped Chuuya?
Dazai couldn’t rely signs of pain to narrow down what the poison was, Chuuya had always been good at hiding it. He had always been good at hiding his pain, even during their time together in the mafia.
It wasn’t until he saw Chuuya reaching for a napkin to wipe at the sweat that was slowly falling down his face that he realized how bad it was getting. Chuuya’s arm was shaking , the tremors causing him to almost drop the napkin. This still did nothing to narrow down just what she had given him.
He saw Chuuya swallow, try to swallow at least. It looked like he was battling to even get whatever he had in his mouth back down. Chuuya brought the napkin back up to his mouth and spit into it. When he pulled it away, the smell of vomit permeated the room.
Dazai needed to hurry and unsurprisingly, the woman was in no mood to rush.
Three and a half hours into the negotiations and Chuuya began convulsing harshly.
The seizures caused the chair to tip backwards and fall over, the loud thud cutting off their conversation.
“You better hurry,” the woman teased.
Dazai smiled back,” Why would I need to hurry? It’s just a dog.” His voice was cold and calm. He didn’t so much as twitch in Chuuya’s direction, he couldn’t let her know he was panicking.
He couldn’t
The smell of vomit got stronger and Dazai sighed, how could he hurry this along? He just needed to get Chuuya out of here and to safety.
They talked for another ten minutes before it even seemed they’d be done soon. Luckily, Chuuya had stopped convulsing. For now.
He could barely see the chibi, the angle did nothing to help. The sharp corner of the table and the chair obscuring most of Chuuya’s body. What he could see, was his hazy blue eyes staring at him from his peripheral vision.
Another 20 minutes passed before they shook hands and finished the meeting.
Dazai tried not to look rushed as he hauled Chuuya onto his back and walked out, but he’s sure he failed.
--
Getting Chuuya into the car was a feat in and of itself, the man was heavy and Dazai was physically weak. When he managed to get Chuuya secured in the front seat, he pushed the seat back into a reclining position.
He got into the front seat and sped off in the direction of the city, past the fields and occasional house. The darkness has never been more suffocating.
He needed Chuuya to survive.
It took him another hour to get into the city, but by then it was too late.
Dazai felt whatever was left of his heart break as Chuuya’s hand cooled in his.
He was too late.
Red eyes reflected back at him in the rear-view mirror. That wretched disease of a woman would soon find out just how much it hurt to lose a light in the darkness, just how bad of a mistake it was to make an enemy of him. She tore away someone who understood him so thoroughly, he was going to make sure she paid tenfold.
She would be surrounded in inky darkness like him, the only light from her burning organization.
What’s so bad about playing god once in a while?