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Of all the unfortunate situations Chuuya Nakahara had gotten himself into during his twenty-two years of living, this had to be one of the worst.
He gritted his teeth and used one gloved hand to shield his gaze against the flurry of snow that tangled his hair and stung against his cheeks. The fog was getting thicker by the minute, bringing with it the atrocious weather that had gotten him stuck in the first place.
Or rather, them.
Because not only was the mafia executive struggling through an ensuing snowstorm, but he was being tailed by the one person he’d least want to be stuck with in this situation.
“Chuuya, you know if you’d just resisted chasing after me this one time-” Dazai started to whine behind him, and Chuuya gave a growl of annoyance, clenching his fist.
“This isn’t my fault, you bastard!” He said shortly, not bothering to turn around. “Nobody predicted this shitty weather.”
It was true- the skies had appeared clear just that morning, and when the Mafia got in a scuffle with the Detective Agency, they’d expected to settle the fight effectively and then separate. But instead…
The wind howled around them and Chuuya shivered slightly, wrapping his arms around himself. The drastic temperatures seemed to seep straight through his clothing, chilling his skin.
“Aw, is the shrimp cold?” Dazai teased, seemingly more focused on aggravating Chuuya than figuring out a direction home.
“Would you shut up?” Chuuya scowled, pulling his cellphone out of his pocket with fumbling fingers. He hadn’t expected any service in this weather, but he still gave a sigh of annoyance when the screen showed as much.
“No service. Let’s just pick a direction and follow it, it should at least take us to a town.” Chuuya said decisively, already stalking ahead. He prided himself in his ability to keep a level head in tough circumstances- although it would be a lot easier without his partner-turned-rival tagging along.
“Hmm...whatever chibi says, I suppose.” Dazai said, sounding utterly unbothered as he followed in Chuuya’s stead, his shoes crunching in the deepening snow.
The two thankfully fell into silence, Chuuya pausing every now and then to check his phone for service, despite knowing it was futile. The snow was worsening by the minute, and he’d be lying if he said he wasn't at least a little concerned. There was a light dusting of snow on both his and Dazai’s clothes, and the cold air was starting to make his lungs hurt. At least the brim of his hat kept most of it out of his eyes.
Dazai was being suspiciously compliant- following Chuuya in silence besides the occasional complaint or quip, which Chuuya struggled not to respond to. When he was around Dazai it was easy to lose his temper, but now he needed to save his energy and focus it on the task at hand.
“Chuuya, there’s snow in my shoes.” Dazai whined after a minute of silence.
“And what do you want me to do about that?” Chuuya snapped, wondering how a twenty-two year old former executive could be so petty. “Just keep walking. We’ll reach shelter soon enough.”
“It’s so much work though.”
“Well, if you want to just lay here and die, be my guest.” Chuuya grumbled, and then paused, realizing that that was actually a possibility and as much as he hated to admit it, two people were better than one in this situation. “On second thought- I don’t want to lug your body through this much snow.”
“Aw, you’d do that for me?” Dazai asked, mock-flattered.
“Shut up. Just do as I say and don’t fall behind.”
Chuuya took a step and noticed that his foot sunk in well past his ankles, and pulling it out was more arduous than before. The realization filled him with unease, but he didn’t say anything, and only quickened his pace slightly.
If they were lucky, they would reach some sort of civilization before the snowstorm worsened significantly.
An hour passed by.
Chuuya forced one foot in front of the other, wincing as the snow whipped relentlessly across his face. He couldn’t tell if fatigue was making his vision blur, or if it was just impossible to make out the horizon through the heavy gusts of wind.
He’d thought-hoped- that the snow would die down before they reached safety.
Instead, it had become a blizzard.
Behind him he could hear Dazai’s faint whimpering, voice nearly carried away by the howling air currents. He could barely make out what he was saying, but he knew it was needless whining about the cold again.
“Dazai, shut up.” He grit out, not bothering to turn around. “This isn’t any easier for me.”
“You don’t need to drag me along with you…” Dazai complained in response, his teeth chattering faintly. “Just let me lay down here and die~”
“Not a chance.” Chuuya frowned, even reaching behind him to grab what he assumed was Dazai’s arm, yanking the taller man forward until he stumbled into Chuuya’s back. “My survival depends on you too now, asshole. So do what I say.”
“Ahh, it’s so cold…” Dazai moaned pathetically, and Chuuya felt the other’s forehead press against his nape, which he promptly ignored.
“It’s worse for me, having to haul your pitiful ass with me.”
Dazai only mumbled in response, leaving Chuuya to trudge forward and silently fume at his luck that got him stuck in this blizzard with the most immature and bothersome person he knew. Yet somehow, the fact that he was stuck with Dazai paled in comparison to the far greater threat- the below-zero temperatures that were slowly weakening them both.
The two continued to mindlessly move forward for what felt like hours, feeling the cold seep away their strength with each footstep. At one point Chuuya adjusted his hands inside of his coat pockets and realized that his hands had become completely numb and feeble by the wrists down. He bit his lip and tried to ignore this fact, focusing on the act of moving each foot forward.
The snow showed no sign of slowing down- in fact, it seemed to grow more ruthless with each minute that passed. It became clear that it was not dying down anytime soon. Chuuya found himself thankful that Dazai insisted on pressing himself against his back, because it was a constant reminder that he hadn’t been swallowed by the snow and vanished from sight like everything else.
Growing increasingly uneasy, Chuuya found himself occasionally speaking up, muttering unnecessary remarks just to hear Dazai respond. Something about hearing another human voice in his ear calmed his twisting stomach, even if it was from someone as insufferable as Dazai.
The wind howled, long and low, carrying gusts of snow across their path and burying the trail left behind them. The snow was well past their ankles now and was steadily increasing, growing uncomfortably close to their knees. Walking had become even more of a chore, as each leg had to be dragged free of it’s icy prison with each step.
Chuuya’s breath was shaky and coming out in short puffs, the air so cold that each inhale physically hurt his throat. The chattering of his teeth filled his ears until he could hear nothing else, and his body was shivering violently.
It was almost amazing how rapidly their circumstances had worsened.
Looking back to what Dazai said… he couldn’t say the idea of simply collapsing and letting the snow swallow him wasn’t tempting.
No… you need to make it. He told himself sharply. He refused to give into something as trivial as a snowstorm. Shaking his head and drawing his arms tighter around his stomach, embracing himself in a desperate attempt for warmth.
Speaking of warmth…
He suddenly realized that the pressure against his neck was gone, leaving his skin bare to the biting cold. He froze as icy horror flooded through him.
“Dazai?!” He whipped around, eyes wide.
He was greeted with empty, horrible whiteness.
No… Goddammit!
Chuuya forced himself to turn around completely, stumbling and shoving through the snow back the way they came, his mind a panicked blur. How long had Dazai been gone? He’d only just noticed, but it could’ve been minutes.
And was he even going the right direction?
That idea was enough to make recoil, but he steadily pushed on.
“Dazai?” He called out, his voice hoarse and barely audible above the storm. “Dazai!”
He hated the fear in his tone. He’d never called out for anybody like this, much less Dazai Osamu. But right now, he couldn’t care less about his pride. If he found the bastard, then he could slowly work on rebuilding his self-respect.
Several yards later, he suddenly spotted something through the snow. Chuuya squinted his eyes and hurried forward, hoping against hope that that dark form swaddled by flurries was indeed Dazai.
He nearly fell to his hands and knees when he got close enough to recognize the form. It was a young man lying spread-eagled in the snow drift, his clothes already dusted with white. He was lying face-up, his skin ghostly pale and eyes closed- Chuuya would assume he was already dead, if not for the faint, shuddering movement of his chest.
“Dazai.” He breathed out, crouching down to lightly knock his fist against the others cheek. It felt like ice to his knuckles.
“Get up, asshole. Don’t make me punch you.” Chuuya hissed through gritted teeth, but he held his breath as he waited for Dazai to react.
The seconds that passed were nearly unbearable. Until the deadly stillness was broken as Dazai’s eyelashes fluttered open, revealing half-lidded reddish-brown eyes. There was a faint but audible sigh as Dazai’s pupils shifted slightly, sluggishly taking in his situation.
“Chuuya… why do you insist on making me suffer?” He muttered, dragging out each word.
“You must be okay if you can complain.” Chuuya bit back. “Now stand up. We need to keep moving if we ever wanna get out of this.”
“Can’t get up.” Dazai whined under his breath.
Chuuya frowned, reaching down to grab the crook of Dazai’s arm. His own hands were still numb and weak, but he managed to get enough of a grip to drag him upwards slightly. Unfortunately Dazai wasn’t making his job any easier, and with Chuuya’s own weakness, getting him to stand was impossible.
“Just… dammit.” Chuuya let go, letting Dazai fall backwards into the snow with a thump. He crouched above him, pressing his palms into his eyelids with a barely suppressed groan. Dazai was a dead weight, and they weren’t getting anywhere.
“Can’t we lie down for awhile…” Dazai whispered, his brown eyes pleading. Chuuya had enough common sense to know that anything Dazai suggested was a bad idea, but then again…
As much as he hated to admit it, Dazai really did look like the cold was finally getting to him, and Chuuya wasn’t much better off. Maybe a small break to regain their energy would be safer than continuing in these conditions.
Chuuya sighed heavily, knowing he wasn’t winning this one.
“Fine. Just for a few minutes.”
Dazai seemed at peace with that, his head falling backwards into the snowdrift, soft brown hair spreading over the white as his eyes closed once more.
Chuuya hesitated for a minute before using his boot to kick some snow away around him, forming a shallow dip in the surface. He then dropped to his hands and knees, crawling towards the barely conscious man.
“This is a one time thing.” He warned, before carefully dragging himself into the ditch and settling himself beside Dazai, lying on his side and tucking his knees to his chest. He remembered how icy and bloodless Dazai’s skin looked, and found himself shifting slightly closer until their bodies touched. The warmth spread between each other's forms, giving some solace from the bitter cold.
The two stayed like that, curled around each other, foreheads pressed together. Chuuya felt Dazai’s warm breath against his nose, and found himself drinking in the companionship. In any other situation this would be unbearable, but now…
It was warm.
He felt like he could linger here forever.
He didn’t know how much time had passed, just that everything was dark and foggy and warm. He felt himself drift on the edges of unconsciousness, but didn’t have the willpower to pull himself out of it. His numb body couldn’t feel anything outside of his own head. Some part of him was screaming to stay awake, but it became muffled and soon it was completely dismissed and forgotten.
Outside the cold was surely eating away at his skin, but here…
He was blissfully unaware.
Unaware of the snow covering his bare arms and face, sending tingling through his whole body.
Unaware of how even now, his body violently trembled, unconsciously trying to save itself from the frigid prison around it.
Unaware of his pulse beating weakly against his throat, growing weaker by the minute.
Not even Dazai's warm breaths huffing against his face…
Suddenly, a faltering thought broke into his mind’s trance.
Wait… Dazai… breath…
Gradually, excruciatingly, Chuuya dragged himself back into consciousness. Bit by bit, he gradually became aware of each thing around him. The stinging all over his body. The snow all of his face, tracing his lips and eyelashes. The body pressed firmly against his, even closer than he remembered it being.
Chuuya’s eyes fluttered open slightly, viewing the world through squinted, bleary vision. For a moment all he saw was blinding white, and then he remembered why he’d woken himself from his state in the first place.
“Da...zai.”
His voice was barely even a whisper as it left his throat.
The snow cleared enough for him to see the face just inches in front of him.
Dazai looked as though he were in a deep sleep, his eyes closed and his mouth parted slightly. The wind whipped around his dark brown hair, which was coated in snowflakes along with the rest of his body.
Chuuya felt his throat tighten as he realized how terribly still Dazai was, along with the absence of his breath against his skin.
He longed to sit up and shake Dazai awake, yell at him until he blinked open his eyes and covered his ears, moaning complaints about the noise.
But he couldn’t find the strength to even move, his whole body feeling limp and out of his control.
Dazai… wake up, bastard…
He remembered how Dazai had whined about the cold from the start, how desperate the man was to just collapse and give in to the blizzard. Without Chuuya, he would be dead and buried in a foot of snow right now, far away from here.
It was unfair.
Chuuya had to be resilient for the both of them, and Dazai still got his way in the end. The thought sent a spike of agitation through his sluggish mind.
“Dazai… you asshole.” He mumbled under his breath, his words nearly incomprehensible to outside ears. “You don’t get to just… give up like that…”
He focused all of his remaining strength into his arm, just enough to feebly lift it above his body. His entire form shook with the effort, but he felt a small jolt of satisfaction as his poorly-clenched fist made contact with Dazai’s jaw. It was the worst punch he’d ever landed, more of a gentle tap, but he held it for a few seconds, weakly pressing his knuckles to the other man’s skin.
He let out a low, raspy laugh under his breath as he gazed at Dazai’s face. His arm dropped slightly but his fist rested against Dazai’s collarbone. He didn’t have the energy to move it, even if he wanted to.
Chuuya's eyes felt heavy and droopy, but he wouldn’t allow them to shut. He just stared at Dazai’s face through half-lidded eyes, waiting for the movement that would surely happen eventually.
He couldn't even recall any meaningful last words. No... everything about this was wrong. After years upon years of suicide attempts and near-death situations, for Dazai to meet his end to a snowstorm of all things, was out of the question.
Dazai would wake up.
He was sure of it.
And Chuuya would wait until he did.