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Chuuya can’t help the heavy sigh that escapes him the moment a harried Atsushi practically bursts into his office. Atsushi is a very obedient and well-behaved apprentice, so the only time he foregoes knocking and waiting for a Master to ask him to come in is during emergencies. And recently, there’s only one type of emergency that Chuuya has to deal with.
Another heavy sigh as he removes the reading glasses perched on his nose with one hand, and raises another hand to forestall the rambling report that’s sitting on Atsushi’s tongue.
A question that he’s had to ask nearly every day for the past year: “What did that idiot Dazai do this time?”
Minutes of brisk walking later and he has his answer.
Dazai cheerfully waves at him, wide grin utterly brazen as though they’re long-time friends who’ve been reunited after four years of no contact whatsoever. The overly friendly attitude only serves to worsen Chuuya’s headache into a full-blown throbbing migraine, and he longs to bash someone’s head with a gigantic rock. Dazai’s head is his preferable target, but at this point, Chuuya wouldn’t complain if it’s him who has to suffer through a concussion.
“Oh, Master Chibi, you came to save me!” Dazai simpers, fluttering his lashes for the full effect.
Chuuya, who’s already wizened up to this kind of tactic within the first week of getting Dazai as his apprentice, is very much unimpressed. One hand is on his hip and the other is cradling his aching forehead. “Quit that, you look like you’re battling an eye infection.”
As expected, Dazai hisses in distaste—his usual reaction whenever his flirtation bounces off harmlessly—before regaining composure in the form of a mournful pout. “Even if Master Chibi is mean to me, he still came here to rescue me…”
Mercilessly: “Nope, I’m here to rescue the poor sods who are probably traumatized by your antics.”
With great effort, Chuuya then turns on his heel and moves to free the other apprentices from the booby traps that Dazai has so generously left for them. Dazai whines like the overgrown brat that he is, yelling irritating things about Chuuya’s height disadvantages and the like.
Once Chuuya has finished freeing all of Dazai’s prank’s victims, he moves on to pinch the other’s cheeks, making sure that it’s harsh enough to leave a pinkish imprint, but gentle enough that he doesn’t accidentally decapitate the other. He has a lot of headaches from Dazai’s trouble-maker antics, and a lot of scolding from fellow Masters, for failing to curtail Dazai’s behavior.
Still, he actually volunteered to be in this position. He actually wanted to be the one to help Dazai hone his talents, despite knowing that Dazai’s age—being only four years younger than Chuuya; rather late compared to most apprentices who are taught starting from when they’re still in their nappies—and personality and other such traits would make things extremely difficult. He actually wants this, something he has to continually remind himself, lest he succumb to the urge to simply bury Dazai underground and be done with all of these troubles.
Judging from the sickeningly sweet smile Dazai gives him, even as his cheeks are being pinched, the mackerel bastard knows it and intends to take full advantage of it.
Urgh. How troublesome, indeed.
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“This is all Chuuya’s fault,” Dazai mutters to himself, his voice rippling through the air in echoes that might probably feel eerie to lesser folk. Judging from the way the light refracts off the enchanted walls, he’s either being held in magical entrapment code 0094 or 0194. Both are supposed to trap its captives until all oxygen has been siphoned out, a rather inelegant way of imposing suffocation, if he must say.
Still, he is not the slightest bit afraid. He’s actually more concerned about the boredom that’s settling in, rather than the rapidly depleting air. The people who have captured him have stripped him of his pockets’ contents, which means no phone, no cards, no means of entertainment aside from talking out loud about how this is all his chibi’s fault.
If only Chuuya paid more attention to him and pampered him, then he wouldn’t have to result to troublemaking!
…Pfft, of course that’s a lie. Even if Chuuya’s the boring, simpering type who’d be at his beck-and-call, he’d still find ways to coax headaches for him. Of course, the fact that Chuuya’s actually not the boring, simpering type is the main reason why he’s allowed the other to be his Master.
He’s already strong enough, after all, a heretical being that can absorb other’s power and take them for his own. That’s raw power taken care of. As long as there’s someone who has magic around, he’d never be weak. He’s no slouch when it comes to using his mind too, and he’s already memorized all the books in the library, whether they be related to magical theory or to mundane things such as world history.
He’s already quite perfect, if he must say so himself.
He does not require a Master. Before Chuuya, all the Masters who have been clamoring to have him as their apprentice all look at him as a source of glory and fame. Who wouldn’t want to be known as the Master who has tamed Dazai Osamu? They’re all quite pitiful, really.
But then Chuuya came along. Chuuya, who looked at him and called him a conceited brat, even though he’s older yet shorter than him. Chuuya, who does not bother with trying to make him go through the basics, or learning spells, or pretty much anything really. Chuuya, who takes him all over the world, when they travel together, sometimes for missions, sometimes because Chuuya just really likes traveling around.
Before he knows it, he feels his mouth stretching up to a smile, as he thinks about his Master.
His Master, who refused to give him a good-night kiss the night before.
Because of that, a rebellion of this caliber is just right!
Dazai wiggles around to make himself more comfortable in his prison. His only fear, after all, is that he’ll die of either boredom or blue balls. He’s very certain that Chuuya will come rescue him before any serious harm can even fall on him.
He’s not quite certain how much time has passed – he knows that he’s felt rather sleepy early on, so he’s succumbed to the lazy urge to take a nap. The sudden surge of power is more than sufficient to jostle him out of his impromptu slumber, the entirety of his prison shuddering in fright.
Not even ten seconds after he feels the burst of power, the wall in front of him does burst spectacularly, it’s almost a wonder that none of the debris manage to hit him. Almost, because he knows that Chuuya has controlled this attack, down to the smallest bit of dust.
And speaking of his Master…
Chuuya is there, looking imposing, black-red magic crackling like portable thunderstorms around him. The entire area shudders once more, as though not even air wants to be near the frighteningly angry man. Chuuya’s eyes are narrowed in slits, and Dazai is thankful for his foresight to remain seated, because his knees does feel alarmingly weak from meeting that glare head-on. Not out of terror, no.
Chuuya looks positively delicious like this, power brewing around him like he’s the epicenter of a vicious calamity. The firm clench of his jaw, the stern set of his shoulders… he’s definitely angrier than ever. There’s none of the loud outbursts of curse words, none of the heavy sighs followed by rubbing of his temples. This is Chuuya being seriously pissed and Dazai wants nothing more than to capture all the threads of the other’s attention so he can keep this all to himself as well.
Chuuya opens his mouth and a beastly roar comes out, the sound resonating and reverberating across the air, the ground, Dazai’s insides. Everything thrums, and then his surroundings vibrate intensely until they’re ground into fine dust.
Chuuya takes one-two-three steps forward, each step causing the mini-earthquakes in his wake. He’s hunched forward, as though he’s about to crawl on all fours. Instead of shrinking away, Dazai eagerly receives his Master, opening his arms so he can catch the other’s topple into his lap.
“You came to save me,” Dazai points out in obvious glee. Because it’s true. It’s beyond obvious that he’s arranged to be kidnapped and imprisoned, that this is a ploy to irritate Chuuya and grab his attention. If he really wants to, he could have escaped, given his caliber. And yet, despite all those things being obvious, Chuuya still goes ahead and rescues him. “You’re really my favorite chibi Master.”
The hold of Chuuya’s magic upon his consciousness recedes, tucking the dangerous beast away and leaving behind his beleaguered, secretly soft-hearted Master. His voice is rough and unamused when he points out, “I’m your only Master, damn it.”
“Which means that my claim that you’re my favorite chibi Master is true.”
Chuuya sighs heavily, and sinks more securely into his arms. “You are such an annoying troublemaker.”
“You like me that way,” Dazai says with all of the confidence that he possesses.
For a tense moment, there’s only silence punctuated by the sound of a destroyed building creaking into nothingness. And then, Chuuya sighs, heavy with something that can only be fondness.
“I probably should get my head checked.”
It isn’t a rejection, so Dazai pulls back slightly, so he can finally get that kiss.
Chuuya sighs again, this time against his mouth, so Dazai counts that as a win as well.