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“Take that, you shitty mackerel! It’s my win!”
Chuuya can’t help but gloat the moment he wins their bet. Even without gravity, he feels like he can float off towards the ceiling just by the sheer giddiness that he’s feeling. He’s invincible, unstoppable! He’s won a bet against Dazai, and he even has a ton of witnesses for it!
He’s not going to get discouraged by the fact that said witnesses have suddenly turned very, very quiet, instead of cheering him on his victory. Well, not completely quiet. He can hear several smacking sounds of palms meeting foreheads in quick succession. He’s not going to be derailed though, from celebrating his hard-fought win!
He even takes a couple of pictures of Dazai looking catatonic in front of him. He zooms in his camera on the other’s mouth—or rather, on the foam that he’s pretty sure is bubbling there. Dazai’s eyes are still wide like the plates provided by the catering service for his birthday party.
That’s right, Dazai’s loss is surely the greatest birthday gift ever!
“Speechless, huh?” Chuuya can’t resist taunting the other. His hands are on his hips as he continues crowing in delight. “I told you, I could do it! Now, I’ll get to order you around!”
It’s a pretty simple bet that Dazai has proposed to him.
“I didn’t bring you any gifts because you’re a slug,” Dazai had said the moment he’d made his appearance near the buffet table, plates already packed to the gills with crabmeat. “But since I’m a benevolent person towards pitiful sheepdogs, if you can defeat me on a certain bet then I will magnanimously allow myself to be commanded by a chibi. Of course, if I win, then you’re going to be my dog for life!”
(Why Chuuya had especially asked the caterers to prepare copious amounts of the seafood… well, it’s because he’s feeling generous! And he wants to support local Yokohama crab sellers!)
Anyway… it’s an easy enough bet.
Dazai is clearly underestimating him, and it’s the cause of his downfall!
Chuuya allows himself to let out his version of an evil laugh.
There’s another round of facepalming, and Dazai is still looking rather flummoxed. It’s a very good look on him, mouth gaping open, lips shiny as his eyes, lips as red as his cheeks. This look is much better than any of Dazai’s ‘smug bastard’ expressions. If Dazai looks like this every day, he’d truly be a sight better than a masterpiece… make that a billion-yen masterpiece.
“You can’t get out of our bet conditions, oi,” Chuuya reminds the other man when he shows no signs of moving. “I get to command you, okay?”
From the background, there’s someone who sounds like a dying whale—wait, that’s Higuchi and the Agency’s jinko harmonizing in their scandalized shrieking of “Did he just—he really went ahead and kissed him?! Just to win their bet?!”
…Yes.
Five minutes ago, Dazai had said, all self-importantly: “I bet that you won’t dare kiss me.”
A very simple bet. Chuuya’s not the sort to stall, so he immediately kissed Dazai right then and there, one hand tugging Dazai’s face downwards and another hand automatically catching the plateful of crabmeat that Dazai had dropped from his shock.
It’s a very easy trade-off for the command he has in mind, after all.
Dazai eventually recovers, though his eyes are still very shiny when he asks, “…and your command for me…?”
Finally! Chuuya crosses his arms over his chest as he declares his command: “You can’t die before me.”
There’s palpable silence once more, followed by several loud thuds. Chuuya believes in his comrades in the Port Mafia, they’re not the type who’d be so helpless like that, so he keeps his gaze focused on the shitty mackerel—who looks like he’s two seconds away from actually swooning.
Chuuya raises a hand and forestalls possible objections and loopholes. “Accidental death is not allowed. Death by sickness is not allowed. Any other cause aside from death by old age is not allowed.”
“And how exactly can I ensure that I’ll avoid all those deaths? I’m an excellent strategist but there are things that can still escape my preparations.” Dazai says these lines quietly, even though the dawning expression on his face is sure enough of a sign that he’s already managed to see Chuuya’s answer.
“Two is better than one,” Chuuya flippantly waves his raised hand as though it’s a small matter. And it really, truly is. The two of them together are capable of bringing the entire underworld to its knees, defeating death when it’s on its way to sink its claws into Dazai should be manageable. “I’ll make sure you don’t renege on our bet.”
That makes Dazai perk up, recovering almost instantly. “Does that mean we’ll move in together?”
That mackerel is probably thinking of all the crabmeat he can eat if he lives with Chuuya. What a greedy bastard. Chuuya wrinkles his nose and allows a, “If we must, you’re the one moving to my place. Your current place is probably filled with mold.”
“Whatever you say, chibikko.” Dazai doesn’t even bother putting a token protest against the disparagement of his current living conditions. That’s how much he’s looking forward to all the food he can gorge on once he gets access to Chuuya’s money, probably. “Should I move in tomorrow?”
Chuuya blinks, considers it. “Nope, you might try to eat poison mushrooms later. You’re going back with me after this party.”
“Pfft, got it.”
And then Dazai moves forward and kisses him back.
At this point, both of them are too occupied with each other to bother thinking about the horrified silence and the massive facepalming of the party’s attendees.
…Suffice to say, it’s the most traumatizing birthday party Yokohama has ever seen in its entire history.
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