Chapter Text
It’s not fair.
It’s not fair that Chuuya has a soulmate who doesn’t love him. He thinks something must be wrong- soulmates are soulmates, and the mark on the back of his hand is a mockery. They’re supposed to be in love. He’s heard of platonic soulmates, but he wants love.
Which means one thing: He doesn’t deserve love.
Chuuya is 15 years old when he meets Dazai.
He’s 15 years old when he kicks the shit out of the mafia bitch in the streets of Suribachi. He’s 15 years old when he tells the same bastard about Arahabaki. He’s 15 years old when the Sheep betray him. He’s 15 years old when he’s forced to become partners with him. He’s 15 years old when they see each other the first time,
but he’s 17 years old when he realizes they’re soulmates.
Dazai, for all his “perfect” planning, fucks up.
“Mori lied,” he says through gritted teeth. He doesn’t elaborate. Chuuya doesn’t ask him to.
They arrive at the safehouse. Dazai told him not to take him to Mori, and Chuuya doesn’t actually care why since he knows how to do stitches from his time with the Sheep.
Chuuya lays him down on the table and gets the first-aid kit, noting the copious amounts of morphine in it.
Chuuya finished off the bastard that managed to throw a knife into Dazai’s right shoulder. It’s a fairly small throwing knife, but Dazai still groans when Chuuya pulls it out carefully.
“Quit whining,” he says.
“Don’t stitch it,” Dazai mutters.
Chuuya frowns at him. “I have to. If Mori doesn’t, I do.”
Dazai starts to lean away from him but Chuuya is not having it, not today, not after their plan went to shit and Dazai got stabbed. He shoves Dazai onto his stomach, but Dazai is still struggling.
“Just stay down!” Chuuya snaps. “I’m not dealing with your whining if it gets infected!”
With that, he puts morphine in a syringe and sticks it into Dazai. “Go to sleep, Mackerel.”
Dazai whimpers- actually whimpers- but then he’s out like a light.
Chuuya peels back the bandages. He feels like he’s invading Dazai’s privacy, but when has Dazai ever cared about Chuuya’s privacy? In the year and a half they’ve been partners, Dazai has never given Chuuya much independence.
Chuuya cuts away another few strips of bandages to give him more space to work with,
and promptly drops the scissors.
He blinks a few times, surely he’s seeing things, surely this doesn’t mean what he thinks it means-
But it’s unmistakable. The same black symbol that's on Chuuya's hand, two lines curled towards each other, is inked on the back of Dazai’s shoulder, a couple inches lower than the knife wound.
He feels sick. How long had Dazai known? He must’ve seen Chuuya’s hand- he has the gloves on all the time, but Dazai’s been with him when they’re off.
Mori lied, Dazai had said.
Well, Chuuya thinks bitterly. So did Dazai.
Of course Chuuya stitched him up anyway, but he left Dazai alone in the safehouse. If someone breaks in, it’s Dazai’s fault for not being awake.
He goes to a mafia-owned bar. They serve him regardless of his age, and his hair is recognizable enough that the bartender doesn’t even charge him. He supposes enough people have seen him with Dazai and Ane-san.
He asks for the bottle and simply pours his own glasses. He thinks- Dazai is still always trying to kill himself. Chuuya can’t even count how many times he’s had to save Dazai, either because Mori told him to or because his gut said he should.
He stumbles out of the bar, but he’s sober enough to get to the safehouse without being followed. It’s only 3 in the morning. He doubts Dazai is awake yet, but Chuuya isn’t tired.
He can wait.
He’s sitting in a chair by the table when Dazai stirs at 7 in the morning. The bottle is empty, but Chuuya is full of anger.
Dazai grunts and shifts slightly, but must realize Chuuya is right there because he immediately goes stiff as if he’s still asleep.
“How long did you know?” Chuuya rasps. His voice is raw.
Dazai doesn’t say anything at first. Then he manages to roll himself off the table so he can stand and lean against it. “Know about what, Chibi?”
“Fuck you, Dazai!” Chuuya yells, standing abruptly, trembling. “Fuck you! You knew the whole time and you never said anything!”
Dazai’s jaw clenches. “I don’t need anyone. Much less a soulmate. There was no reason to tell you.”
And there it is. Dazai has said the dreaded S-word. He’s admitted to it.
“You lied to me,” Chuuya says, voice small. “You lied.”
“Well, you just drugged me,” Dazai says, peering at the still-open first-aid kit. “I think we’re even.”
“It’s not even and you know it!” Chuuya shouts, on the verge of tears. “God damn it, Dazai! Fuck you!”
Dazai’s face is as impassive as ever, a blank mask Chuuya will never penetrate despite being his soulmate. “Are you done?”
Chuuya drops the wine bottle on the floor. It doesn’t break, but Dazai looks like he wishes it did.
“Yeah,” he says, breathing raggedly. He sounds winded. “I’m done. You can write the mission report. I’m not doing it.”
With that, he leaves the safehouse.
Of course it’s Ane-san that he goes to.
She raises an eyebrow at the way he bursts into her house, where she’s seated on her couch. “Yes?”
“He’s my soulmate,” Chuuya says, breathless, and then he bursts into tears.
Kouyou can’t know- there’s now way she would know and not tell him, right?- but she looks sympathetic anyway.
“Dazai?”
“Yes,” Chuuya says, sitting next to her. “And- he knew, he fucking knew! For at least a year! Probably longer! But he never said anything!”
Kouyou is silent for a moment. “And how did he react to you finding out?”
Chuuya scoffs. “The same way he always does. He didn’t look like I had said anything.”
Kouyou pulls him against her chest and pets his hair. “I’m sorry, lad. You deserve better.”
Slightly muffled, Chuuya says, “He still wants to kill himself.”
“Yes…?” She trails off, unsure.
“He knows I’m his soulmate,” Chuuya says heavily. “He’s been partners with me for a year- I don’t think we’ve spent more than a day apart- and I’m his soulmate and he knows that and he wants to die anyway.”
Kouyou purses her lips. “Not much would make Dazai want to live,” she says. “You can’t really blame yourself for that.”
“But I’m his soulmate.”
“You’re his soulmate, not his therapist,” Kouyou says firmly. “And certainly not required to keep him alive. People have happy relationships without their soulmates, you know?”
“Those people are the ones who never found their soulmate in the first place,” Chuuya snaps. “Now that I know it’s Dazai, it’s just more painful that he’s so far out of my reach. I- I mean, when I was ‘reborn’ or whatver- and I learned about soulmarks- I was excited, you know? I thought I would have a soulmate. I thought I would be happy, eventually.”
Kouyou just strokes his hair more.
“But I guess some people aren’t meant for happiness,” Chuuya mumbles. “Like people in the mafia.” He snaps his head up. “I mean, not to say you don’t-”
Kouyou laughs. “Relax. I know what you meant.” Her gaze softens. “I’m truly sorry, Chuuya.”
“The universe decided I don’t deserve anyone.”
“You are more than anyone could possibly deserve,” Kouyou says. “And definitely more than Dazai would ever deserve.”
She kisses him on the head and stands up. “Now, would you like something to eat?”
He’s 17 years old when he has to learn how to live with Dazai being his soulmate.
He’s certain Mori has known since he saw Chuuya’s soulmark.
Occasionally, Chuuya will quip about the soulmarks. He gets the same reaction every time- nothing.
Once, after a mission where he has once again saved Dazai’s life, Chuuya snarks, “You’re lucky to have me as a soulmate. No one else would help you.”
This time, Dazai does reply. “I wish you weren’t.”
Chuuya doesn’t mention the marks again.
He’s 18 years old when he’s promoted to Executive position, the youngest one ever, and it’s a month later just before Dazai’s birthday that he takes that title from him.
Chuuya isn’t bitter. He’s not. It’s just that Dazai does nothing that spells out leadership. He’s the lazy half of their duo. He doesn’t do anything that doesn’t benefit him, and that includes mission reports or taking care of his subordinates.
Dazai purposely took the achievement from him, he knows it, he knows Dazai couldn’t stand to see him with something Dazai didn’t have. It’s not only this- Dazai does more things that make it clear he hates Chuuya. He leaves him after missions. He ignores him when they aren’t required to talk. He goes out of his way to embarrass Chuuya, and he hates the sympathetic looks from anyone who knows their “situation.”
He’s 18 years old when he starts drinking even more to cope with the fact that his soulmate doesn’t care about him at all.
He’s 18 years old when he thinks he loses Dazai forever.