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The glass hit the bar hard enough to break. Doppo thanked whatever god was out there it didn’t. He’d have to ask the customer to pay for it, but their quick temper added to their current state of inebriation would prove reasoning with them to be a troublesome task.
“Like I was saying,” the redhead burped and took another swing at his wine glass. “Fuck Osamu.”
For what he’d been saying all night, he was well acquainted with that business. Doppo didn’t like to judge, but with the way he talked about that Osamu, one would imagine him as the lowest scum to roam this country.
He made him join some shady corporation when they were fifteen, they were partners for three years until Osamu decided to run off with two of the corporation’s most valuable employees and as a parting gift, he planted a bomb in his car.
At least Osamu left his motorbike intact.
Two years passed since Osamu left, and the redhead wanted to live his life.
But everywhere he went he’d hear about Osamu being a host or working at a fast-food restaurant, that he broke the hearts of countless women, got himself on another failed suicide or got compromised in a knife fight with the head of a large corporation.
There was no escape from that guy.
“And he calls me out of nowhere to tell me he’s changed his ways and getting an honest job like I’d care what happens to him!”
Few places would accept Osamu knowing what Doppo knew. It was proper to feel happy for the guy.
Doppo felt that, deep down, he was glad Osamu was at least alive. After everything they lived together, he couldn’t believe that guy could die.
“He’s like a roach,” he said when he confessed hearing about Osamu gave him a bizarre calmness. “And I still haven’t beaten the shit out of him.”
It was sweet while it lasted.
He couldn’t imagine how he found Lupin. After he arrived, he didn’t stop requesting more wine. Doppo worried about his liver, but the redhead knew when he tried to water down his wine. It was an indulgent experiment of his to figure out how many drops of water could he detect. The answer was one; a single dash and he complained to Doppo about tampering with his drink.
Regardless of his endless grievances, the redhead seemed alright.
Osamu’s disappearance granted him a higher position in the organization, and he claimed everyone said he looked better without Osamu, well-rested and less irritable.
He came in already drunk, probably in his last bar before heading home, so he didn’t know him when he was sober and couldn’t support any of his statements.
“Sometimes I wish I never met that bastard.”
Doppo sighed. In Lupin, they had the policy of not indulging the customers too much ever since one guy became a regular and ordered strange things. Doppo looked at the redhead; the sadness in his eyes, and he couldn't help himself.
Do what you should do.
“You don’t mean that,” he said in a neutral tone. “He’s the reason you’ve made it this far, isn’t he?”
The redhead stared at the remaining wine in his glass. “Shit, glasses, you’re right.”
There, he’d done it. Now back to work, even as an informal arrangement, he had to take his job with the seriousness it demanded. Having dropped out of college, he had several part-time jobs, but his position as a detective had started to get more stable, and he quit tutoring. He had to wait for the end of the week to demand his paycheck and then he’d be gone, with a full-time job waiting for him.
He looked at the redhead playing with the cat that only answered to Sensei . He wished they could meet again when both of them were sober.
“This is your new partner, Dazai Osamu.”
The President announced their new member first thing in the morning on Doppo’s third day as a formal employee.
The day before, they discussed over tea the trial period of the newcomer, and Doppo received the assignment of determining if they were apt to take the job. His first impression left him with the desire to throw them out and never let them set foot in the office again.
Brown hair, and cold eyes, with a plastic smile and bandages wrapped around his body.
That was the overall description the redhead gave of his ex-boyfriend.
That was the overall description of the man standing in front of him.
“Kunikida-senpai, if you frown like that the ladies won’t want to talk to you.”
The honorific felt wrong coming from him. This guy managed to annoy him, and he had opened his mouth once.
“Don’t call me that, O- Dazai.”
Osamu blinked once, a genuine expression of surprise in his face.
Doppo knew him as Osamu, just that. He couldn’t tell him his ex-boyfriend didn’t shut up about him when he was drunk; he couldn’t do that to the redhead.
“Well, Kunikida-kun, I’ll be in your care from now on.”
He’d rather not, but it was an assignment given directly by the President, and as a new official member he had to prove himself as much as Osamu.
Dazai. He repeated it in his head.
The man in front of him was Dazai. Osamu was a lowly being that had access to explosives, and a man that walked away from a dangerous organization and was trying to live an honest life. He wouldn’t try to become a detective if he wasn’t.
Osamu was a stained existence, but he could give Dazai a chance.
Only one.
Throughout the next week, Doppo realized Dazai was too much like Osamu. Childish, sluggish, unable to do paperwork, a suicidal maniac, and a terrible flirt.
The cruelty he showed was a shadow of what the redhead often spoke of, and he cared in some way about helping others, especially children. He didn’t know if that was good or bad yet.
A thing that he didn’t expect was his sharp mind. The redhead always said he was a cunning bastard, but he was more than that. He could solve cases with ease and tried to handle things in the most efficient way possible. He was able to keep up to a certain degree with their best detective, and his eyes seemed to see through everyone.
On top of it all, despite how much Dazai managed to get on his nerves and how much he wished it wasn’t like that, they made a good team.
Dazai kept a cool head whenever Doppo couldn’t hold back and kept an objective point of view at all times. Sometimes a bit too crude, but it was always the reality of it. Whenever he wasn’t being a general pain in the ass or off trying a new suicide method, he helped Doppo think.
Osamu was living scum, but he found himself fond of Dazai at times when he behaved. They were sparse but appreciated moments.
They stopped at an ice cream shop in front of the love hotel their client’s husband entered. Affairs were Doppo’s least preferred cases to take of; they involved a great deal of meddling, and a single photograph had enough power to create emotional chaos their payment didn’t cover.
Doppo hated to see those men and women suffering, wondering what they did wrong, consumed by anger and pain. Wives didn’t know what to do, high schoolers got their hearts broken for the first time by an older lover, long-time relationships ended in the blink of an eye, and others fell in an everlasting loop of breaking up, getting back together.
“Kunikida-kun, they have peach flavor!”
Doppo directed his attention to the pink bucket Dazai was pointing. “Don’t touch the glass or you’ll stain it.”
“Are you saying I’m dirty?”
Yes.
At least a version of him. Doppo glanced behind him; nothing yet.
“Oh! There’s also night in the devil’s casino and triple fudge, caramel vodka !”
“We have a promotion in night in the devil’s casino and the lover of Abigael Bohorquez ,” the worker behind the counter added. She was a young girl with braces and braids, who looked like she wanted to be anywhere else but there. “Buy one the other is fifty percent off.”
Dazai’s eyes lit up. “Kunikida-kun, we have to get it!”
“No, we do not,” he had to shut him down before he got too excited. “There’s nothing in my notebook today that says I’ll eat ice cream.”
The worker, —according to her nametag— Lucy, leaned closer to Dazai with a glint of mischief in her eyes. Doppo couldn’t stop her. “It’s only for today; those two flavors are the season’s special. If you don’t buy it now, you’ll have to wait a whole year to get the chance again.”
To anyone else, the face Dazai made was one that begged Doppo to be nice once in his life. To Doppo, it was the face of a man who wouldn’t let the matter go if he refused. It was a threat of his actions being brought up in every conversation they had, with Dazai sulking every time they passed the shop.
Doppo took his wallet out. “We’ll get the promotion.”
Lucy clapped once. “Excellent!”
She voiced the overpriced amount, and Doppo gave her the exact amount of money. He took their cups and turned to see Dazai taking pictures hidden by the painted advertisements in the shop’s window. The final piece of evidence they needed.
Doppo followed the man with his eyes. His clothes were ruffled up, and a woman was leaving in the opposite direction. He sighed.
Dazai put the camera inside Doppo’s bag and took the cup with red ice cream. He raised it a bit. “To a finished day at work.”
Their work was far from over, but Doppo decided it wasn’t a bad thing to indulge him once or twice. He raised his cup and tried the black ice cream.
It was sweet.
After finishing twice as much paperwork as he usually did, Doppo made it twenty-eight minutes late to his apartment. He removed his shoes and made his way to the living room. “I’m home.”
Rokuzou came out of the kitchen with an apron and a spoon in his hand. “You’re twenty-eight minutes late, what’s up with that miss?”
Doppo sighed. “Dazai dropped his ice cream on his paperwork, and I got tired of his incompetence, so I did it myself.”
“Dessert before dinner, you’re not the Kunikida I know anymore,” the kid went back to making dinner. “He played you, you know?”
Doppo was well aware of that. Dazai had done something similar three days of the five they had worked together. Still, he did what Dazai wanted him to because if he didn’t, it’d interfere with his job the next day. He’d have to reschedule some things to fit the new mishap his partner represented.
When it was Rokuzou’s turn to make dinner, Doppo didn’t have much to do except relax and wait.
It was the time when he asked Rokuzou how he was doing at school. If he had gotten in trouble for exposing another bully’s search history, how the programming club was when in reality all they did was sit around, eat unhealthy snacks, and see how much time it took big corporations to notice Rokuzou had complete control of their systems.
The kid was one of the main reasons he quit studying. After his father’s death, Doppo couldn’t leave him alone. Now, he smiled more often, so Doppo felt it had been worth it. Besides, he was already praying for a reason to leave his university.
“Do you already know which high school you’ll go to?”
From the kitchen, Rokuzou groaned. “But I’m smarter than all of them.”
“At least high school, then you can do what you want,” Doppo got up to set the table. “That’s the deal.”
Rokuzou placed the cutlery and glasses on the bar so Doppo could organize them on the table. “Then I’ll go to Gurido.”
Even with a scholarship, it’d be a lot of money. It was a high school for elite kids who were born with a silver spoon or had the greatest minds of the decade. He was confident Rokuzou could make it in.
Doppo stayed calm. He could do it, with his new job and if he went back to tutoring and bartending despite having just left it, then it’d be alright. He had to do it if it was what Rokuzou wanted.
“I’m kidding!” Rokuzo pushed a large plate of salad into his hands. “You should see your face; there’s no way I’d want to go to the same school as those pretentious pricks.”
Thank goodness.
“You don’t have to look so relieved, y’know?” Rokuzo put two plates of pasta on the bar while Kunikida filled two glasses with water. “If I must, I guess Sutorei is the best choice.”
That was the school he went to. Doppo stared at him and noticed faint pink touches on his ears. He smiled. “I’m sure you’ll make it.”
“Of course, who do you think I am? If I could’ve made it to Gurido with no problem, then I can go anywhere I want.”
They sat down, Doppo gave Rokuzo his glass of water and reached for the plates. “I know.”
It smelled delicious, Rokuzou had a unique talent for Italian, and Doppo had become attached to the cuisine.
He was starving and ready to eat.
The phone rang.
The last thing his ruined schedule needed was an unexpected call before dinner.
But he couldn’t ignore it.
He got up and picked up the phone. “Yes?”
“Kunikida-kun, there’s an emergency! I need help! My friend is too heavy to carry him home alone!”
“That sounds like a problem you can solve on your own, Dazai,” he looked at Rokuzo waiting with his fork in hand. “I’m busy right now.”
“But Kunikida-kun, he’s drunk, and I’m weak!”
It was true Dazai didn’t have much muscle and had trouble carrying boxes. That last one might be another one of his ploys to get Doppo to do his work for him.
He wanted to help the poor guy Dazai most likely got drunk against their will, but he had a previous arrangement with Rokuzou, and the boy would get upset if he left despite declaring he wouldn’t care and that he understood. “Could you wait an hour?”
“Kunikida-kun, you’re my savior! We’ll be waiting at Bar Port M!”
If Doppo wasn’t mistaken, that bar was rumored to be owned by the Port Mafia’s boss. Well, knowing Osamu, they were well acquainted. “See you then.”
Dazai hung up, and Doppo went back to the table. “Let’s eat.”
Rokuzou scoffed. “Don’t tell me what to do.”
After dinner, Doppo hurried to Port M.
Dazai sat on the bar. "Boss, do you have a hammer?"
"I'm afraid I do not."
Dazai leaned back. "What a shame."
Before he fell, Doppo put his hand on Daza's back. "We're leaving, Dazai."
He didn't like the atmosphere in the bar. Especially the hostility towards Dazai. All the other patrons glared at the bandaged man as if they wanted to kill him.
"My savior! Chuuya is waiting on that booth over there!"
He pointed at a man sleeping on a table hugging a bottle of wine. In Lupin, he had his hat in his hands, but in Port m he fell asleep with it on.
His name was Chuuya. Doppo felt like it suited him.
"Well, Boss, put everything on Chuuya's tab, bye!"
Dazai walked outside. Doppo picked Chuuya up and followed him.
Dazai waited for him next to the door and followed him when Doppo walked to his car.
"Does he weigh anything to you?"
Doppo shifted to get a better hold of Chuuya. "It's like holding a bunch of grapes."
"He'd be happy to hear that," Dazai poked Chuuya's cheek. "He worries a lot about his weight, I always told him I'd like him even if he was fat, but he got mad at me every time."
That was ridiculous.
He felt small in his arms, but Doppo could feel lean muscles under his fancy clothes. He'd definitely be able to beat Dazai.
"Where does this guy live?"
He looked at Dazai, but the man was snoring on the floor. Doppo kicked him. "Wake up, Dazai, I have no time for this!"
Dazai didn't wake up, he didn't flinch. Doppo counted to three.
There was no point in screaming at Dazai, and he couldn't leave him there.
Well, he could.
But he wouldn't.
He put Chuuya on the floor and opened the front and back door of his car. He threw Dazai in the backseat, placed Chuuya in the front and put on the seatbelt. When he closed the doors, he hit Dazai in the head.
Chuuya was glad he was twenty, and the hangovers weren't as bad as what Hirotsu told him. They still sucked, though.
He stared at a white ceiling that wasn't his and wondered where in the world had Dazai made him sleep.
That was the last time he indulged that mackerel.
There wasn't much he could do when the bastard showed up at his front door and begged him to go drink with him to celebrate his first week working as a detective.
"Good morning, Chuuya!"
Chuuya groaned. The last thing he needed was to start his morning with Osamu's voice next to him.
He followed the sound of his voice and saw him sleeping on the floor. They were in a clean living room, Chuuya slept on a white couch with a warm quilt and Dazai on the wooden floor, with a thin blanket. Did Dazai make sure he was comfortable at the price of his trouble? He hadn't done anything nice for him in years.
It was strange.
He needed to think of it with a clear, objective head. There was no point in Dazai sleeping on the floor if they were in his apartment, he'd take the bed and leave Chuuya to figure something out to battle the cold. He'd done it before, except that time they were in a forest.
That meant they were in someone else's apartment. Did Dazai break in a stranger's home again? No, he woke him up before the sun came out that time and they ran away before the owner woke up. The sun lit up the entire room, and Osamu was relaxed.
The next issue was Osamu didn't have friends that were stupid enough to open their home to him. He was like a plague. He had the habit of finding all the hidden spare keys and would let himself in whenever he needed attention.
Oda and Ango couldn't let Osamu in with all the kids, and he hated feeling like a burden to his beloved friends, so they weren't in their house. Besides, it was too tidy to be the home of all those little monsters.
A kid came from one of the rooms and ran towards the hallway. He heard the door open. "Kunikida, I'm going to the net-cafe, don't wait up!"
A tall man opened the other door. He had an unbuttoned black shirt. "Did you eat breakfast?"
"Bye!"
The door closed and the man stepped into the living room. "Hey, brat!!"
Osamu sat next to Chuuya. Chuuya curled his legs to get them closer to his body. "Kunikida-kun, I didn't know you were so good-looking in the mornings!"
"You're awake already?" Kunikida asked as he buttoned his shirt.
Chuuya wished Osamu hadn't talked so he could enjoy the view for a little longer. When he looked at Osamu, the bastard had a smug grin on his face, which meant he did it to spoil the fun for him.
"Hey, Kunikida, right? I'm sorry you had to deal with us."
"You were no problem, Chuuya, it's Dazai who should be apologizing."
He kicked Osamu's ribs. "What did you do, mackerel?"
"I've done nothing wrong ever in my life."
"Bullshit," he turned to Kunikida. "What did he do?"
"He threw up in my car," he said as he tied a red ribbon around his neck. It suited him. "Now I have to use my day off to go get it cleaned."
If he didn't know Osamu better, he'd suggest having him clean the car himself. But, Osamu was the sort of guy who would buy a new car if the one he had got that dirty.
"To make it up to you, I'll make breakfast," Osamu offered.
Chuuya looked at Kunikida and shook his head. The only good thing that ever came out of Osamu's cooking skills was that tofu Oda loved so much. Anything else was a one-way ticket to the hospital. Of course, he noticed Chuuya's warning.
Osamu crossed his arms and huddled on the corner of the couch. He never stopped acting like a child. "How rude, Chuuya, if you don't want to eat my food, you cook."
Chuuya sighed. "Fine, if you want to eat my food you can just say it, you five-year-old."
He got up and walked to the kitchen. "Is it okay, Kunikida?"
"Of course," he tied his hair, Chuuya didn't let his eyes leave Kunikida's fingers. "I don't know when he'll eat again, please help yourself."
"Will do," Chuuya opened the fridge and admired how organized it was. For a single father Kunikida kept quite the stock of food. Maybe the kid cooked. "Anything in particular you want?"
"French toast!" Osamu shouted from the living room.
"Well, you get at it, I'm leaving now, please close the door properly. Dazai, don't waste your day off."
Chuuya wished he stayed for breakfast. He didn't find himself with that sentiment often.
He decided that he'd take Kunikida out for breakfast another day. As thanks.
He heard the door close. Dazai was now sitting on the table next to the bar. Chuuya chuckled, if it were him, he'd use the bar to eat, but to Kunikida facing his son while they ate was important. How nice.
"Kunikida-kun is a nice guy, he cares about others, has a gorgeous body, and sticks to his ideals like a lifeline." he eyes Osamu, he didn't want to see his all-knowing smile. "Good luck, Chuuya."
How infuriating, he shut the refrigerator's door. "Shut up, you bastard!"
"I'm trying to show my support, Chuuya," Osamu crossed his arms. "You met him first, after all."
He didn't like what Osamu implied with his last comment, and Chuuya hadn't met Kunikida until a few minutes ago.
Thinking about it, he felt like he knew that voice.
He’s the reason you’ve made it this far, isn’t he?
Oh, crap.
Kunikida arrived at an empty apartment. The quilt and blanket were folded on top of the couch, and the kitchen was pristine. A plate with french toast covered with plastic rested on the table and a note on top of it.
Thank you for everything
—Nakahara Chuuya
And Dazai Osamu
Dazai's name was written in a different color. He picked it up and turned it around.
PD: I took money from Osamu's wallet and left it under the plate, for him to pay for the car.
And a phone number. Chuuya decided to write it on the backside to avoid Daza's meddling. Kunikida would've done the same.
Kunikida put the piece of paper on the table.
He moved the plate and stared at the money.
He had already taken money from Dazai the night before.
He smiled, he'd take the money as emotional compensation. He entered Rokuzou's room and left a bill in the back pocket of one of the pants he had laying on the floor. The rest ended up in his wallet.
Rokuzou woke up earlier than Kunikida for the second time in the week. It was a hard job; the guy rose with the sun.
He pulled a pair of jeans from the floor and fixed the pockets. He felt a bill in one of them.
Great! He didn't remember leaving money there.
He changed as fast and quiet as he could. He took his backpack and opened the door.
"Kunikida!" The blond sat on the couch with a cup of coffee in his hand. It was his day off, which meant he slept one extra hour, there was no reason for him to be awake, let alone in the living room. "Good morning, did you sleep well?"
"Not really," he confessed.
Rokuzou waited for him to explain. He didn't. "Okay, care to share why?"
"Not really."
There was something wrong with Kunikida, maybe one of his pieces got busted and needed an immediate replacement. It was best to leave him alone.
"Well, I'll be going to school, don't wait up for me!"
He expected Kunikida to point out he never went to school if he could help it. He didn't; he kept staring at the curtains as if they were the most fascinating thing in the universe.
He took a deep breath. Well, whatever. He clutched the straps of his backpack and walked out.
He hoped that by the time he came back, Kunikida would be back to normal.
He entered the Black Lizard and gave a nod to Tanizaki. He knew his usual, and Rokuzou had a lot to do. He saw Naomi waiting for him in their usual booth. He sat down and took his books out.
"Morning, Rokuzou," she smiled. "Today is world history, right?"
Rokuzou groaned. He didn't like history, but he had to get into Sutorei whatever the cost.
For Kunikida.
One hour later, his resolve started to waver. Ancient civilizations had a lot going on back in the day. Too much for him to memorize or understand.
On the corner of his eye, he saw a familiar shade of yellow pass by. But it couldn't be. Kunikida stayed to clean on his days off. There was no chance it was him.
Out of curiosity, he turned around.
Kunikida was crossing the street.
He wore casual clothes, but he cleaned up rather nicely.
He had a watch he only wore on special occasions, and if Rokuzou could smell him, he'd catch the fragrance of lavender.
Studying for his entrance exam could wait, Kunikida Doppo had a date! He had to see that.
So that was why he was so distracted. He was nervous.
"I'm sorry, Naomi I stopped paying attention at the Inca civilization, and now I must leave," he stood up and left the money he found that morning on the table. "Bye!"
He ignored Naomi's calls and crossed the street before the light went red.
Kunikida hadn't mentioned meeting anyone special. Rokuzou liked to believe they had an open relationship where they could tell each other anything.
Putting aside his current lie of going to places all day when in reality he went to study with Naomi and spent all he had on carrot cake.
If only Kunikida hadn't discovered the bug he placed in his phone, Rokuzou could see his messages to figure out where he was heading, or the general plan he made for the date.
Unless someone asked him out.
No way, there was still years until Kunikida had planned to meet the person he'd marry, and last time Rokuzou checked, Kunikida didn't have any dates outlined until autumn.
Kunikida was a smart man, and sooner or later Rokuzou would be discovered. He had to stay alert and make it as far as he could. The minimum was to see the face of the person Kunikida changed his schedule for.
A thought crossed his mind.
The other day, during dinner, Kunikida ate fast and excused himself after he finished.
The next day, Kunikida told him the new coworker they talked about every day that week during dinner was in their living room looking worse than death itself along.
If he wasn't wrong, Dazai was the plain looking-guy with crispy hair. He sounded pretty annoying but Kunikida let him sleep in the apartment.
Rokuzou didn't want to wake up one day and see that man sitting on his chair. Then, after he complained, Kunikida would buy another chair and that crispy man would have a chair in their home.
He shook his head. There was no way.
Then again, that was his exact thought when he was sure Kunikida wasn't the one who passed beside him.
"Are you following him too?"
Rokuzou jumped. A hand covered his mouth and muted his scream. He was pulled inside the nearest shop and, when the grip on him loosened, he pushed the hand away and turned around.
Dazai?
But, then... He remembered a small redhead with a pleasant voice.
Of course, Kunikida would never go after a guy like Dazai, for what they talked about he sounded like the biggest scum in the planet.
"Hey, brat, I don't like that look on your face."
He shook his head. "I'm not making any faces."
Dazai placed his index finger on his forehead and pushed, Rokuzou slapped him away. "You looked like you were glad I'm not the person Kunikida-kun is going to meet."
Oh, he wasn't a dumbass then.
"I can't play with you, Dazai, Kunikida is getting away."
He reached towards the door handle, but Dazai grabbed his hand with strength uncharacteristic of his physical features. His voice shifted to a bitter sound. "If you leave now, Kunikida-kun will not only discover you but me as well."
It sent an uncomfortable feeling down Rokuzou's spine. He retrieved his hand and rubbed the part where Dazai grabbed him. "Fine, I get it, you lead the way then."
A bright smile covered Dazai's face. Rokuzou didn't believe it for a second. "I was expecting you to say that."
After that, Dazai instructed him when to go and when to stop. He gave him tips and even showed him a technique to make his steps unheard. Rokuzou learned more in those ten minutes than that hour with Naomi.
They reached a nice restaurant, the type Kunikida would take him for his birthday. The theme of its decoration was nature. The facade had lined by vines, and there were flower pots wherever they fit in. Kunikida went in and sat on a table facing the window, just like Rokuzou's booth.
Dazai pulled him to the opposite sidewalk, and they entered a bookstore that was right across the restaurant. They had a perfect view of Kunikida's date.e
In the end, it was the redhead. He couldn't remember his name.
"To think Chuuya would act so soon."
He looked at Dazai. He had a gloomy look in his eyes, and he bit his nail.
Could it be? No, Kunikida wasn't that popular.
It was a typical date.
They ate breakfast and laughed. Chuuya was getting out of his way to make it clear to Kunikida he was interested, and Kunikida was surprisingly catching up on most of Chuuya's approaches.
To think his Kunikida liked someone. He was so happy it wasn't the man next to him, he could cry.
"You're doing that face, again."
He ignored Dazai.
They finished eating, and they walked outside.
Dazai signaled him to scatter. Rokuzou went to the manga section and hid his face behind a seinen.
"Don't tell me it ends here, Kunikida," he whispered at the pages.
They were still walking side by side.
That was good.
Chuuya turned to the bookstore, and he dedicated all of his attention to the page number. When he looked up again, they were gone.
A bandaged hand tapped him on the shoulder. "This is as far as we'll go, kid."
Chuuya had discovered them. Or Dazai, at least.
He could follow them on his own, but if Dazai insisted on leaving them be, he'd go with that. He knew Chuuya better than him, he wasn't going to risk it.
He wondered if Naomi was still at the coffee shop. She loved to hear about others' love lives.
Chuuya couldn't believe that bastard was spying on them. And the kid had been there too.
This was a show of gratefulness for taking care of him and an apology for being a lousy drunk.
In his line of work, he was a feared man. He was treated with respect, but everyone kept a painful distance from him. Only Dazai had ever treated him as an equal after a few months. Before that, he spoke to him as if Chuuya was below that mackerel.
They tried dating for a while, but that didn't end well.
Yes, he was left heartbroken when Osamu disappeared without saying goodbye or an explanation, but he didn't have the time to dwell on the past.
All the work Osamu left behind was passed to him, and the subordinates he abandoned became his to discipline and to take care of. It was a responsibility too big for an eighteen-year-old, but he was the one that climbed to the top as fast as he could, and no matter how much work strained him, he had to keep going.
Osamu's betrayal was the best thing that happened to their organization since Mori became the boss, it forced them to change many things to be able to move forward without him and stay on the summit of the chain.
All of Mori's plans for the future involved his prodigy, but he got up and ran away as fast as could when he learned Mori was willing to make sacrifices that weren't beneficial to Osamu.
Seeing him now, Chuuya could recognize Osamu was better off away from the organization, working to save people.
And he was with the best company he could have. If Oda helped Dazai realize which path he wanted to take, Kunikida was the one who guided and prevented him from going astray.
He wondered if he had the right to be with someone as righteous as Kunikida Doppo.
Kunikida, the man who was deflating the wheels of a patrol car with a pocket knife.
"What are you doing?"
Kunikida hid the blade and cleared his throat. "They can't park there."
That didn't explain much, but Chuuya didn't question him further. If Kunikida was one to hate on the police, then they had another thing in common.
They walked in the ice cream shop talked about. Chuuya was glad it came in their conversation. He didn't want to say goodbye just yet.
"Welcome back, are you here for another of our promotions?"
The girl seemed to be one of Kunikida's acquaintances.
"Sure, what's today's special?"
"We have Knife fight at Madero Park and Assassination of Colosio are at a 57% discount if bought together."
Kunikida turned to him. "What will you want?"
Chuuya was tempted to say you, but he'd save that for later. He didn't bother to see the flavors in the display. "The knife fight sounds delightful."
"Then one promotion, please."
The girl smiled. It appeared faker than Dazai's. "I was hoping you'd say that, so I asked Louisa to prepare them the moment you came in."
He saw Kunikida's jaw tense. He had a fine jaw, the sort that got described as sharp enough to cut a diamond. The girl's smile facing danger unsettled him.
He left the money on the counter and took the cups, he wasn't going to give Kunikida enough time to start a fight with a teenager working part-time at a shady establishment with questionable naming tendencies.
The girl stuck her tongue out at Kunikida. Kunikida glared at her.
Chuuya pulled him outside. It'd be best to eat the ice cream before it melted. "Is there a park nearby?"
Kunikida took the cup with the red and grey ice cream and started to walk. "There's a big park with a pond ten minutes walking from here, and a playground right up ahead."
He took a spoonful of brown and red ice cream. It was creamy and tasted like coffee with something else, something citric. "Let's scare the kids from the swings."
"They're in school, it's empty at this hour."
So the brat was skipping school.
It'd be a shame if someone told on him, but if there was something Chuuya hated was snitches. That, and traitors.
Well, a private place didn't sound bad at all. "Really, now?"
The playground was small. It had a set of swings and a slide, and a broken monkey bar.
"I wanted to thank you," he started. "Not only for helping me and listening to me, but also for not judging Dazai for everything that I said about him. He's an asshole and has deep psychological issues that I can't even start to comprehend, but, despite all our past, he's something like my friend, and he's genuinely trying to be better, and you being with him is good for him."
Kunikida sighed. "I only gave him a chance, if he showed any sign of being like the Osamu you talked about, I was ready to ditch him."
Chuuya smiled and grabbed his arm. "That's more than most have ever done for him."
Kunikida, looked at him and immediately looked away. He sat on one of the swings. "Can we please stop talking about Dazai?"
Chuuya joined him on the other. "Absolutely, he's my least favorite topic anyway."
"When you weren't talking about Dazai in Lupin, I learned a lot about you," Kunikida placed his empty cup on the floor. "You work harder than most, and you care about the people around you. Even if you started to work under a questionable set of principles and you got involved in violent situations, you stayed kind. And the thing I liked the most that I learned that day is your loyalty. You truly consider Mori-san a man worthy of your loyalty, and I respect that. You stick to what you believe."
"And here I only know you are gorgeous and have a six-pack."
Kunikida blushed and looked away. "Well, thank you."
He didn't sound thankful.
Chuuya pushed his swing. "I'm only partly joking," he teased. "I threatened Dazai to tell me about you."
Kunikida let out a short laugh. "With what?"
"Giving his number to all the girls whose hearts he broke."
Kunikida chuckled and passed his hand through his hair. Chuuya wanted to do that too. "And what did you learn?"
"That you stick to your ideals like a lifeline, that you want to help everyone to the point you'd sacrifice yourself and that you took a kid in because you felt responsible for his father's death and gave him a home. You've saved and protected this city's more than once without asking for any kind of recognition, and you're seen as a hero and a leader by your coworkers."
Kunikida stared at him with a look that made Chuuya want to kiss him. An honest expression with no hidden intentions or malicious undertones. He looked away, there was no merit in doing something he'd regret later.
"Dazai said that?"
"He's an observant bastard and notices things people don't openly show," he started to swing lightly. "It's a pain."
He wished Kunikida would stop looking at him. It was hard to think when he felt Kunikida's eyes on him.
"And do you believe him?"
Chuuya, against his better judgment, looked at Kunikida's eyes. The man who kept him company for five hours after the bar he worked part-time at closed, carried him to his home and gave him food, who was kind to his idiot friend and treated him like a normal human being knowing what he did.
That night in the bar, Chuuya let out everything about himself and Kunikida didn't bat an eye at him, all the things he did to find out who he was, all the betrayals he had suffered and exposed the ugliest parts of himself to a complete stranger.
And when they met again, he touched him with a gentleness not even Osamu dared to show. He even accepted his invitation and stayed with him longer than he needed to. He could've thanked him for the food and walked away. But he didn't.
Kunikida didn't deem him a tainted person, but as a kind person who did despicable actions. They weren't very different, they just walked guided by different kinds of light.
Kunikida lived facing the setting sun and Chuuya under the moon.
"Yes."
Kunikida reached for Chuuya's cheek and stopped before they touched. Chuuya leaned closer. He was warm.
He wanted to kiss him. He craved to keep him close and not let go. But Kunikida wasn't someone he wanted to move fast with.
After Osamu, Chuuya could only have relationships that moved so fast their feelings were suffocated in the blink of an eye.
He wanted Kunikida to be different; he'd wait for him.
He put his hand over Kunikida's. Even if that was all he'd get, he was more than satisfied.
"Kiss him, coward!"
They turned to see Dazai pushing Kunikida's kid under the bushes, desperately attempting to shut him up.
He looked back to see Kunikida wearing an intense blush on his face. Even his ears were red. That was a sight that compensated the absence of a kiss in their date.
He did feel somewhat disappointed in himself. He was too focused on Kunikida he missed those two following them again.
"Don't be ridiculous, brat, that's reserved for our second date."
Chuuya choked. That didn't happen often. He did nothing more than wish for more, but his desires never came true.
"Are you okay?" Rokuzou asked once he freed himself from Dazai.
Chuuya smiled. He let the thought settle in his head. They'd have a second date. He looked at Kunikida yelling at Dazai, who tried his best to justify their actions, and to Rokuzou's small smile. He could get used to this. "Never better."