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He couldn’t feel or see anything.
All he saw was pitch black, and he felt as if his entire body was numb. Then, out of nowhere, he could feel a twinge of pain in his chest. That pain was something he felt before a few times already, but he still wasn’t used to it. If he could describe that pain, all he could say is that it felt as if darkness was eating him from the inside.
He didn’t know how much time had passed, but that pain in his chest grew to his torso, then to his arms and legs, and he could feel it start to reach his head.
He wanted to scream, he wanted to cry for help, but he simply couldn’t. He couldn’t even feel if he had a mouth still, or if he was even a human being in the first place.
Seconds passed, and he decided that the pain had won over his body. He internally stopped fighting the pain, and relaxed. He didn’t know what was coming next.
Was it death? Is he already dead?
Was he ever alive in the first place?
Countless thoughts rushed through his head as the pain pounded throughout his body. That’s when he knew, he knew his time was up. He knew that he was finished. He didn’t know where he was, or who he was, but he was done for. The pain then became excruciating, so excruciating that-
“Chuuya!” A familiar voice shouted, and time stopped for him. All the pain in him dissolved, and then he remembered. Chuuya. He was Nakahara Chuuya and that voice was none other than-
“Chuuya! Nakahara Chuuya!” The voice shouted for the second time, and mysteriously, Chuuya felt warmth around his torso and then he started hearing sirens and shouts.
Chuuya fluttered his eyes open. He was standing in the middle of the road, and all he could see in front of him was destruction. Stop lights and street lights were smashed, cars were crashed onto each other, and multiple fires were scattered around the area.
That’s when it all came back to him. The Armed Detective Agency and the Port Mafia decided to have another alliance to take down a new foreign enemy organization that decided to invade Yokohama.
They didn’t want to do it, but since the organization had taken in hostages that included office staff of the ADA and some people from the PM, they were forced to. He recalled Mori and Fukuzawa explaining that this organization was the worst one they had to fight yet, and all three generations of double black had to work together.
Atsushi and Akutagawa took care of the members of the group that were at the port harbor, Fukuzawa and Mori went to save he hostages while he and Dazai were sent to eradicate the leader of the organization, who they tracked down in some random apartment in the middle of Yokohama.
He remembered kicking down the front door, only to be met with a large group of ability users and their leader. It got messy fast, and the leader had escaped outside to the road, then in a split second decision, he removed his gloves.
Corruption. He decided to use corruption.
He hated it. He’s used it plenty of times before yet whenever he used it again it all felt like it was the first time. The numbness. The pain. The thought of not knowing who he was. It was torture for him, but did he really have a choice?
He sighed. He was worn out, and he felt like drowning himself in a bottle of wine. Oddly enough, the warmth around his torso was still there, and he looked down to see a familiar set of arms hugging him from behind.
“D-Dazai?” Chuuya managed to croak out as he looked over his shoulder to see his ex-partner staring at him.
“God, I thought I didn’t make it.” Dazai whispered before pulling away from him and letting Chuuya fall to his knees on the ground out of fatigue.
“What…?” Chuuya coughed as he stared at the taller man’s expression. It was a mixture of relief and solemnity which he had never seen before.
“It’s nothing.” Dazai kneeled beside him. “Anyway, I had no choice but to hug you from behind or else I would’ve been too late to save you, so don’t get any wrong ideas, slug.”
Save you. The words rang in Chuuya’s ears. He hated it. He hated how he had to depend on Dazai to save him from himself, and he hated how he couldn’t use corruption, even in the most crucial missions during the four years Dazai was gone.
Yet, what he hated more was how Dazai never failed to save him each time. How Dazai was faced with the choice to leave his partner to die, and he never did.
Chuuya was starting to think that he never will too, but he didn’t want to jump to conclusions so fast.
“D-did we get him?” Chuuya started breathing heavily, and he was sure he was about to pass out.
“If you’re talking about Rizal, he got away.” Dazai said, and Chuuya pounded his fist onto the pavement.
“Dammit! Even after I used corruption and destroyed a part of Yokohama?!” Chuuya could feel his eyes start to well up, but he just blinked them away.
“Don’t worry, I got a call from Fitzgerald, and thanks to Eyes of God he saw that Rizal had run off to the port harbor, so he should be in Atsushi and Akutagawa’s hands by now.” Dazai explained, placing a hand on Chuuya’s shoulder. “Plus, no civilians were hurt either since Ango evacuated the whole neighborhood hours before, remember? You did good, partner.”
Chuuya glared at him. “Get your filthy hands off me, shitty mackerel! God, this might as well be the worst night of my life.”
“What about that time we saved Q?”
“We defeated the enemy that time, asshole.”
“What about the night of your seventeenth birthday?”
“Oh god of course that was bad but it wasn’t as bad as this.”
“What about the night you accidentally ki-“
“Shouldn’t you be taking me to the extraction point?” Chuuya snapped. If only his body wasn’t so weak, he’d be kicking Dazai’s face by now.
“There’s no need.” Dazai shook his head. “Yosano’s nearby with Kouyou, so they’re coming over to help treat you, then after that we’re free for the night.”
Chuuya groaned. He heard of Yosano’s ability and how she’d have to practically torture him to be perfectly healed, and Kouyou would freak out at the state he was in.
He really wasn’t in God’s favor tonight, was he?
“Chuuya, this place looks quite familiar doesn’t it?” Dazai glanced at their surroundings.
Chuuya observed the area. Right next to them was a laundromat that had its sign and window smashed. It looked normal, but right next to it was a familiar floral shop, then a familiar convenience store, and a familiar sushi restaurant.
It took a while for his brain to process everything, but then it hit him like a bunch of bricks. They were just a few blocks away from his apartment complex.
To be more specific, they were just a few blocks away from his and Dazai’s old apartment complex.
“Ah, this really takes me back!” Dazai exclaimed, sitting cross-legged. “Except the last time I came here, not everything was wrecked and on fire.”
Chuuya wanted to laugh at that, but instead he rolled his eyes. “Can’t you just shut the fuck up already, bastard? You were the one who decided to leave the mafia.”
“I know, I know.” Dazai laughed. “But did you know that my current apartment is almost a 30 minute walk away from here?”
“I know that, so what?” Chuuya furrowed his eyebrows for a moment before piecing up the details together. “Oh god, no. Dazai, you’re not spending the night at my place!”
“But Chuuuyaaa!” Dazai whined like a toddler, latching himself onto the orangehead. “I used to live in that apartment, that used to be our place!”
“Yeah, back then when you were my insanely annoying partner!” Chuuya coughed again, and he was fighting himself internally to stay awake. “Just wall and go back to your own home!”
“Come on, I just defeated thirty-four enemy organization members with you, I deserve a good night’s rest!” Dazai cried out.
“Go and ride with Yosano and Ane-san then!” Chuuya tried to wriggle out of Dazai’s grip, but it was no use.
“I can’t handle a long car ride with Yosano.” Dazai shuddered. “She’d rant about men the whole car ride!”
“I’m not letting you stay the night, and that’s fucking final.” Chuuya huffed.
“Even if I distract Ane-san and make her not see you like this?” Dazai raised an eyebrow and smirked. “I can make something up about Kyouka-Chan getting injured, and she’s definitely go and attend to her instead.”
“Y-you’d do that?” Chuuya’s eyes widened.
Dazai nodded. “Only if I get to stay at your place tonight.”
Chuuya coughed for what seemed like the twentieth time, and this time a good amount of blood came out along with it. With how he looked, he was sure Kouyou was going to go crazy and strictly scold him. Add that to Yosano having to half-kill him, and it’s the pits of hell.
“You know what? Fine, but you’re sleeping on the goddamn floor.” Chuuya’s eyes shot daggers at him as Dazai smiled and pulled out his phone to contact Ane-san.
—
“Wow, this place hasn’t changed one bit!” Dazai exclaimed as Chuuya turned on the lights, revealing a rather small yet clean apartment that had red velvet wallpaper and matching furniture.
“The hell are you talking about? It’s much cleaner now than it was when you were living here!” Chuuya punched the Dazai’s chest before he hung his hat on his hat rack.
Dazai’s bluff worked on Kouyou, and only Yosano appeared to them at the road. The treatment was just as he expected, horrible and seemingly long, but it did its magic and he had never felt better. He felt like he was a whole new person, and he didn’t feel tired whatsoever.
Once that was all done, Yosano quickly rushed to the port harbor, where the new double black seemed to have gotten severely injured, while Dazai and Chuuya went to Chuuya’s apartment.
Well, it used to be his, and Dazai’s anyway.
They lived together ever since he joined the Port Mafia, and it was the most horrifying thing he could experience.
The apartment had three rooms, but Ane-san made one her own storage room (it was mostly filled with random antiques, and Chuuya would scavenge through them to find anything pretty or useful) while Mori made another one his own storage room too (toys for Elise, which Dazai would steal just to piss off Elise) so the two teenagers had to share a room.
Looking back, they were definitely robbed. The Port Mafia was the most feared ability organization in all of Yokohama that was also plenty rich, yet they could only provide him and Dazai a creaky bunk bed that just gave him terrible memories of Dazai kicking his bed from the bottom (the top and bottom bunk was decided by a game of rock, paper, scissors and oh how Chuuya just wished to go back in time to pull out paper instead of scissors).
Dazai had no talent in any housework, which included cooking, so Chuuya had to cook for the both of them for years. There were times where he snuck poison in Dazai’s food, only for it to backfire and result to him taking care of Dazai for weeks.
It was practically torture living with Dazai.
Although for Christmas once, Ane-san had gifted them a video game console, and for a good two weeks their bickering was pushed aside so they could complete video games together. There was also another time where new pillows had arrived, and they had a pillow fight that lasted the entire day. Then another where Oda and Ango visited, so the four had a sleepover and told each other lame ghost stories.
“Why are you smiling to yourself?” Dazai asked, snapping Chuuya out of his thoughts.
“N-none of your business!” Chuuya stuttered before stomping off to the kitchen. “Look, I’m gonna have my midnight wine, so don’t do anything stupid for like, ten minutes at least.”
“Whatever you say, petit mafia~” Dazai sang as he wandered around the apartment.
Chuuya walked over to a kitchen counter where his wine rack was and picked out his favorite bottle. It was a well deserved drink after being partnered up again with a fool, then using corruption, and then being stuck with said fool for a whole night.
As Chuuya poured himself a glass, he could hear a door open. “Wow Chuuya, you have such a huge bed all to yourself now!” Dazai exclaimed.
“I made them burn that stupid bunk bed the minute I heard you left!” Chuuya replied loudly so the other could hear him before he took a sip. “Also don’t you dare fucking look through my things!”
“I’m just taking room, I’m not going through your porn stash or anything!” Dazai teased, and Chuuya tightened his grip on his wine glass, maintaining himself from chucking it to the brown-haired buffoon.
“Dazai, if you don’t get out of that room in five seconds, I’m kicking you out!” Chuuya announced, and with that, he heard a door close and footsteps going back to the living room.
“Okay fine, fine just chill.” Dazai sat down on the sofa. “You’re a real bitch, you know that?”
“So I’ve heard.” Chuuya said through gritted teeth, glaring at the back of Dazai’s head.
They share a moment of silence, with the only sound being Chuuya gulping his wine and the wall clock ticking.
As Chuuya was starting to enjoy the quiet, he sees Dazai stand up and walk over to a corner of the living room.
“Oh, this is still here?” Dazai gasped in astonishment.
From Chuuya’s view in the kitchen, he couldn’t get a good look at what the other was galoring at, so he walked over, only to see an old, dusty vinyl player with a box of vinyls right beside it on the floor.
“Ah, this was Ane-san’s right?” Dazai quickly brushed off the dust above the vinyl player.
“Yeah, a lot of her stuff is still here.” Chuuya sipped his wine. “I don’t think she’s ever planning on getting them back.”
“We used to mess around with this thing a lot, right?” Dazai went through the box of vinyls, scanning each of their titles.
“Yeah, took a lot in me not to smash that thing against your skull.” Chuuya rolled his eyes, walking back to the kitchen to refill. God, he was probably going to drown himself with wine at this point.
He watched as Dazai went through the vinyls for a minute before he went to his refrigerator to assess what he’d need to get on his next grocery trip. He stared aimlessly at the inside of his fridge for god knows how long as the alcohol started kicking in his body. Man, how he hated being a lightweight.
Suddenly, music started to fill up the apartment. It sounded really old, and you could tell by the beat that it was a song from the 80s. At first, the song was unfamiliar, but then Chuuya found himself knowing the lyrics of the first lines.
I Think We’re Alone Now by Tiffany. A song that used to be played in the apartment almost daily when Dazai was around. It was his favorite song, and Chuuya always voiced out his own opinion that he hated the song, but the taller would play it over and over again that in the end, it became one of Chuuya’s favorite songs too.
The next thing Chuuya knew, he found himself mouthing the lyrics of the first verse while lightly bopping his head up and down and tapping his foot to the song. He took a look at Dazai, who was doing the same thing, except he had a silver flask on one hand.
“You carried alcohol with you?” Chuuya stepped back into the living and furrowed his eyebrows.
“Chuuya, I’m a man of many surprises.” Dazai took a swig and started to dance as he sang along to the song.
“What the hell are you doing?!” Chuuya grimaced at the sight and took a swig of his own drink.
“Oh come on, just loosen up!” Dazai grinned. “By tomorrow morning, I’m sure the enemy organization would be taken care of, and we won’t have to see each other ever again!”
Chuuya’s heart raced at the last part of his sentence. It was a similar feeling as to when he heard that Dazai left the Port Mafia, and he had no idea how to describe it. He wanted to say that his heart was racing because of excitement, but it was different from that. It wasn’t excitement or happiness, and Chuuya was too scared to think of why.
Fuck it. Chuuya thought as he finished his glass and relaxed his shoulders. Once the song hit the chorus, he found himself dancing along.
The two danced to their own beat, getting random things and making them accessories and microphones. Dazai made his flask an imaginary microphone and pretended he was performing for his life while Chuuya grabbed an old scarf that was probably Ane-san’s and danced on the sofa.
Out of nowhere, Dazai extends his arm to Chuuya, and Chuuya, who lost himself into the song, grabbed it and jumped off the couch. The charcoal haired man twirled him around before pulling him close.
“You smell horrible.” Chuuya stifled a laugh as Dazai pulled away and twirled him around again.
“You reek of wine, like usual.” Dazai rolled his eyes and shook his head before letting go of Chuuya, and the two were back to dancing by themselves.
Yet, they’d point at each other while singing the lyrics, with sheepish smiles and blush on their faces, most likely thanks to the alcohol.
Once the song ended, the two were out of breath. Dazai plopped himself down on the sofa, and Chuuya retreated back to the kitchen to grab his bottle of wine. He then went back and sat down on the sofa next to his ex-partner, to Dazai’s surprise.
“That was fun, wasn’t it?” Dazai breathed then chugged on his flask. “Reminded me of when we were teenagers.”
“Yeah, hopeless teenagers who wanted to kill each other.” Chuuya shook his head and crossed his legs.
“Now we’re hopeless adults who want to kill each other, isn’t that great?” Dazai chuckled, and Chuuya couldn’t help but frown.
He looked down on his gloves. Wearing them daily became a necessity for him, and the only times he’d take them off was when he’d take a shower, sleep or use corruption.
“Oh, Grantors of Dark Disgrace, Do Not Wake Me Again.” Was what he said every time before he used corruption as he took off his gloves. It would be the last thing he’d remember before blanking out, and then after that, he’d awake to Dazai’s touch.
Every single time.
If Dazai really wanted him dead, he would’ve left him to die.
“Osamu, why do you always save me from corruption?” Chuuya blurted out the question.
Dazai was startled at the sudden use of his first name, and took a while to respond. “...Why do you ask?”
“You’ve saved me from the brink of death countless times already, with no hesitation.” Chuuya turned his head to look at his ex-partner in the eye. “Why? Why don’t you just let me die? Tell Mori you were just a little late, and then continue living your life?”
The atmosphere of the room drastically changed, but Chuuya didn’t regret it. The question had been haunting him for years, and all he wanted was a concrete answer.
Dazai played around with the cap of his flask. “Isn’t the answer obvious?”
Chuuya could feel anger bubbling inside him as his eye twitched. “The fuck are you talking about? The answer isn’t obvious to me! You better explain yourself or else I’m going to kick you-“
“It’s because I don’t actually want you to die, you idiot. I care about you.” Dazai sighed and leaned back onto the couch. “God, you’re annoying.”
Chuuya felt his face heat up, but he also felt that he needed a better answer. “Why?”
“What do you mean ‘why’? I mean, yeah, you’re the worst person I know, but you were also my partner.” Dazai lowered his voice to a whisper. “I’m Dazai, and you’re Chuuya. We’re double black.”
“No, you’re wrong.” Chuuya lightly spun his glass, watching the wine move inside it. “When I use corruption, I’m not Chuuya, I become Arahabaki again, a ruthless fire god who does nothing but kill and destroy. Who wouldn’t want to kill me?”
The memories came flooding back to Chuuya the second he said Arahabaki. How he never had a childhood, how he never had parents, how he was just used as an experiment for the military. How he was nothing but a mere vessel for Arahabaki's power.
Water started to well up his eyes again for the second time that night, and this time, he caved in and let the tears roll down his cheeks.
“I don’t,” Chuuya sniffled raising his other gloved hand and stared at it. “I don’t deserve to still be alive.”
God, he could feel Dazai’s stare burning through his skin. It wasn’t the first time he’d drunkenly cried in front of him, but this was probably the most embarrassing one because it had genuine feelings involved, so Dazai was probably going to make fun of him about this constantly.
“Hey,” Dazai began. “Don’t you remember what Rimbaud said before he died?”
“Of course I remember, but does that even matter? No matter how much I try to become me, no matter how many times I recall what Rimbaud had said to me, I’m still the result of a stupid fucking experiment. I can’t help but think of where I came from.” Chuuya sniffled, putting his glass down so he could wipe away his tears.
“Chuuya,” Dazai softly grabbed Chuuya’s arm, brought it closer to him, and then slowly removed his black glove. “It matters to me. Those words that Rimbaud said, they were powerful, and I hoped that day that it would be powerful enough to get you through the rest of your life. Do you know how much mixed feelings I get from seeing you use corruption? I see you losing yourself to your ability, and if I don’t stop you at the right time, you’ll die and I’d never forgive myself.”
“But-“
“Corruption is a scary thing, I know, but I’ll be there to nullify it each time, okay? Plus, the past is in the past. Rimbaud told you to live, right? Then live, live the life you want with the people you want.” Dazai touched Chuuya’s hand. “Forget about Arahabaki, because you’re Nakahara Chuuya. The Nakahara Chuuya I’ve learned to hate but also…”
“Also?” Chuuya raised an eyebrow.
Dazai paused for a moment, looking hesitant, but then he intertwined his fingers with Chuuya’s. “But also learned to love.”
Chuuya’s face was already red from the wine, so when Dazai said the words, he was probably as red as a cherry tomato.
“Living with you for so long made me learn to at least tolerate your stupid hats and wine obsession, I mean.” Dazai added, which resulted to Chuuya kicking his shin.
The two of them burst into laughter after that. It was obvious they were drunk, but not drunk enough to let their genuine feelings get trampled over.
“I trust you with my life,” Dazai kissed Chuuya’s hand. “So continue to trust me with yours, okay?”
“You asshole,” Chuuya hissed. “I already do. You’d never let me die from corruption, huh?”
“Never ever.” Dazai smiled, letting go of Chuuya’s hand and standing up. “Be right back.”
Chuuya watched as Dazai went back to the vinyl collection. He stared st his free hand, the one Dazai had held and then onto the glove that Dazai dropped onto the floor.
Even after all the annoying things had done to him, he couldn’t help but feel comforted. Dazai knew him so well, and if he wasn’t being mistaken, he was the only person in the world who knew him so well. Even after not meeting for four years, nothing had changed between them. Not the insults, not the fights and the unspoken trust.
Dazai picked out a vinyl and took it out of its case, and Chuuya couldn’t read the title of it from afar. He expected it to be another 80s song to lighten up the mood a little, but instead, he was hit by a slow, jazzy tune.
My Funny Little Valentine by Frank Sinatra.
Dazai walked back to Chuuya, but instead of sitting down again, he gracefully extended his hand. “May I have this dance with you?”
Chuuya gazed at Dazai’s dark hazelnut eyes that seemed to have held the galaxy as he removed the glove on his other hand, and gladly placed it on Dazai’s. “Sure.”
Dazai placed one hand on Chuuya’s waist as the other held on Chuuya’s hand. The two danced in rhythm, as if they knew the song by heart.
“We’ve done this before, haven’t we?” Dazai smirked.
Chuuya rolled his eyes. “Yeah, my seventeenth birthday, right? Because of a dare by Ane-san?”
“Well, I see you’re still a great dancer.” Dazai held onto his hand tighter. “And I hope you know that it’s much, much better that you don’t have your gloves on.”
“No it isn’t, without my gloves I can tell how sweaty your hands are.” Chuuya scrunched his nose at him before letting out a laugh at the face Dazai was making.
“I’m out here being the best ex-partner ever and you’re doing this.” Dazai dramatically sighed and shook his head.
Chuuya stopped in his tracks. “We should really change that whole ex-partner thing?”
“To what? Mortal enemies?”
Chuuya rested his head on Dazai’s chest. “That has a nice ring to it, actually.”
“What about soulmates?” Dazai rested his chin on Chuuya’s shoulder.
“I guess that’s much better.”
As the song continued and they danced along, Rimbaud’s last words rang in Chuuya’s head.
“Who you are, where you came from...there’s no longer any way to know,” Randou said in a voice close to a gasp. “But you, even if you’re nothing more than the surface frame to power…you’re you. Nothing has changed, all human beings, all of life…are no more than the frame of the brain and flesh, and of the material world that surrounds them, no more than a beautiful frame.”
Chuuya stared at Dazai, who was softly grinning and whose face was illuminated by the moon shining from the windows.
Rimbaud was right, it was such a beautiful frame.