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Throwing his head back and feeling the slight burn of liquor trickle down his throat, Dazai sighed at the sensation as he enjoyed a quiet evening to himself in his bland apartment. Sat on soft carpet and facing his full body mirror, he listened to the faintest distant noise of the bustling city several floors below. It provided a constant reminder that time was still moving and that meant that Chuuya was seconds closer to returning home.
Pouring himself another small glass, Dazai closed his eyes and raised it to his lips before he heard the sound of keys and the unlocking of a door. A smile pulled at the corner of the brunet’s lips as he lowered his drink. By cracking open red-brown eyes, it should have been normal to expect to see himself in the mirror in front of him. However, after discovering that this mirror had no reflective property, instead, it appeared to function more like a window into the living room of someone called Nakahara Chuuya, Dazai was no longer surprised when said redhead stepped forward on the other side of the surface and sat down as if it were natural for those two to meet on the other side of the non-mirror.
Dressed in his usual over-layered outfit, blue eyes gave Dazai a critical look before frowning. “You’ve started drinking already?” Chuuya asked with obvious distaste.
“You didn’t expect me to wait for you, did you?” Dazai replied with a raise of an eyebrow and small smirk before raising his glass up to his lips and taking a sip.
The redhead only clicked his tongue before standing up again. Stalking off to where Dazai had concluded long ago to be his bedroom, Chuuya reappeared minutes later in loose sweatpants and t-shirt, and a bottle of wine.
Pouring himself a generous glass of red wine, Chuuya took a small sip before sighing at the taste. His eyes fell shut momentarily and it gave Dazai the opportunity to appreciate for the umpteenth time his companion’s features. Mature and sharp features framed by orange-red hair never ceased to capture the burnet’s attention. Blue eyes cracked open before long and normally Dazai would play it cool and casually look away before he was caught staring but this time, he found himself being drawn into the rich colour of Chuuya’s eyes. Maybe it was the lighting in the other’s room but they looked brighter than usual despite the dark eye bags and obvious tiredness present. That would only mean…
“I take it you’ve caught the guy you’ve been looking for?” Dazai asked, already having predicted the answer he would receive.
“Yeah,” Chuuya answered in between a sip of wine. “Took bloody long enough.”
“You don’t need to thank me~” Dazai sang, throwing a smug smile at Chuuya.
“Bastard, I never asked for your help in the first place!”
“But you were obviously too stupid to work out where he was hiding. I did you a favour.” Dazai defended, smirk never leaving his lips.
Chuuya clicked his tongue sharply before sighing in defeat. “The boss credited me for the case but it should have really gone to you.”
“Well, it isn’t like the boss of the Port Mafia can just thank some random stranger who doesn’t exist in your world but happens to exist in a neighbouring universe that is magically connected by a non-functioning mirror that only you possess and no other can be found anywhere else in the world. So it doesn’t matter, right?” Dazai shrugged.
The redhead didn’t answer. He downed his glass of wine before refilling, the frown in his eyebrows never easing. He was probably thinking about what Dazai just said. Although none of it was incorrect, it was still an ever-far-fetched situation.
There was no such person called Dazai Osamu in the Yokohama in which Chuuya lived. And equally, there was no such person called Nakahara Chuuya where Dazai lived. Incidences that occurred in their respective cities never matched up with what happened in the other’s and they have yet to come up for an explanation outside of “parallel universes”.
How bizarre.
But nevertheless, it was their reality.
They continued to drink silently, simply enjoying each other’s company before Dazai spoke up again.
“So now that you’ve caught him, how’s the paperwork looking?”
Chuuya groaned loudly, running a hand over his face. “Don’t remind me.”
The brunet laughed a little more heartily than he meant to. Maybe it was the alcohol, or maybe it was because Chuuya slurred the words a little too much.
“There’s a whole stack waiting for me in my office.” He hiccupped. “I could have started them this evening but after chasing that guy around for so long now… I need a break.”
“Well,” Dazai replied, raising his drink up close to the mirror. “Here’s to a simple evening after your hard work.”
A huff of a laugh left Chuuya as he too lifted his glass of wine towards the mirror. Their drinks looked as if they were only a few centimetres away, but as they moved to tap their glasses together, they were not met with a satisfying clang sound. In fact, it was one of the dullest sounds Dazai had ever heard. Still, they withdrew their drinks and allowed more alcohol to enter their bodies.
They both hummed at the sensation before an idea popped into Dazai’s head.
“You could just give it to your subordinates to do, right? You are an executive.” Dazai mused.
“’m not you!” Chuuya countered, hiccupping once. “I don’t just throw paperwork to you- I mean, my men just ‘cause ’m too stupid and lazy to get off my ass.”
Even through the light fuzziness that began to cloud Dazai’s consciousness, he could still pick out bits and pieces of what Chuuya said to be somewhat nonsensical.
Too stupid to get off my ass?
That made him chuckle.
“What’re you laughin’ at, ha?!” Chuuya glared drunkenly.
“I think you’re the stupid one, Chuuya.” The brunet commented lightly.
“You pickin’ a fight?” The redhead threatened, clenching and unclenching his fist.
“Haha, but you’re too short to reach me.” Dazai continued to tease, unprepared for what was to come.
“Short?! ‘m teach you who’s short!”
The redhead pulled his fist behind his shoulder, unclenched once then tightened his grasp.
In that moment, it felt like all the alcohol Dazai had consumed dissipated into nothingness. He suddenly felt too alert and too aware of what was about to happen.
“Wait, Chuuya.” Dazai raised his hands in front of him to placate the other.
But by then, the executive was already committed to punching Dazai harshly in the face.
The fist came.
“Don’t-!”
Crack.
From where Chuuya’s fist connected with the mirror on the other side, a devastating crack branched out from that exact spot on Dazai’s mirror. The once non-functioning mirror now displayed several reflections of Dazai in the broken shards. The look on his face was mixed but there was one which hung heavily over his features: regret.
Slowly, Dazai reach out to the cracked surface. Running the tips of his fingers over the trenches that defiled the once smooth mirror, Dazai felt the weight of what had occurred settle over him.
His only connection to Chuuya was now lost.
Being his first time entering his mentor’s personal apartment, Atsushi shuffled awkwardly and nervously inside as Dazai gestured to the few sofas in the living area.
“Take a seat, Atsushi-kun.”
The young man nodded obediently and made his way forward when the sound of a loud kettle startled him. His foot caught on a loose cloth and with a drag of his leg, the material fell off whatever it was covering.
“Ah!” Atsushi reacted, instantly crouching down to gather up the cloth. When he stood back up, he was faced with a full body mirror. But the only problem was that it was cracked and seemingly useless. Several images of himself stared back at him, all somewhat distorted from the damage and if he were honest, it was actually quite ominous.
At that moment, Dazai stepped into the living area with two warm drinks.
“Ah, Dazai-san!” Atsushi turned to his mentor, bowing his head apologetically. “Sorry, my foot got caught and-”
But the young man didn’t get a chance to finish his apology when a soft pat on his head silenced him. The cloth in his hand was gently pulled out from his grasp and as he looked up, he saw that Dazai had his eyes fixed on the broken mirror. He stepped up to it silently, before throwing the cloth back over the frame, covering it entirely.
“Dazai-san,” Atsushi dared to ask. “Why don’t you throw that away?”
The brunet hummed a considering sound.
“It’s more than just a mirror, Atsushi-kun. It’s a connection.”