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Chuuya sat on a barstool at the rundown bar. He swung his legs, too short to touch the old wood floor. He shifted on the stool and the old peeling pleather cushion let out a low groaning sound. He simply stared at his glass of wine, a fly had died in it. The bartender, a burly old man who had definitely seen better days leaned against the other end of the bar smoking. Chuuya debated for a moment calling over and asking for a new glass, but he doubled anything here would even be worth the effort so he simply waited. It was criminally late and all he wanted to do was go home and sleep but shitty Dazai had called him out, and they never came here unless it was important so he suffered through his partners' lateness.
"Hello Chuuya, you showed up just like a good dog."
"I'm not a dog- '' Chuuya started up in their usual banter only to go still at the sight of Dazais red-rimmed eyes. "What happened." He spoke low and full of worry. In the three years of their partnership, Chuuya had never seen Dazai cry.
He slid onto the seat next to him without saying anything so Chuuya tried again.
"What's wrong,” He said softly. He tentatively reached out and laid his hand on Dazais's check and wiped at the tear streaks on his clammy skin. Chuuya was not yet accustomed to their gentle touches since they started dating a few months ago, but he felt the need to reassure Dazai.
His usually dead eyes held a deep sorrow that Chuuya felt in his soul and his heart hurt.
"Nothings wrong chibi!" He said with a tight smile. Chuuya gave him a look and he resented his words. "Ok, a lot is wrong."
He brought his hand up and laid it over Chuuyas against his face. "Seeing Chuuya has made many things better though."
Chuuya smiled at him, the fist around his heart relaxing its grip. Of course, Dazai would be sappy to try to distract him.
"Dazai, don't try to dodge the question."
He received a calculating look, like he was debating what to say and how Chuuya would react and the fist of worry was back again. He hated that look, but on his pale sickly complexion, it bothered him even more.
Finally, he opened his mouth, breathing out the words that made Chuuyas' world come to a full haul. "I'm leaving."
Chuuya’s heart stopped and he stared at Dazai. “What do you, did Mori assign you somewhere? I’m coming too then.”
The harshness in Dazai’s face, built up from years of difficulty, lessened a bit, in the way it always did when he told Chuuya he was being stupid.
“No, Mori doesn’t know. I’m leaving the mafia completely.” Chuuya’s heart stopped at the words, his world stopped. Dazai looked hopeful and reached out a hand halfway between them. “Come with me.” He said, and Chuuya’s world shattered.
Eyes wide he looked from the outstretched hand to Dazais face, trying to find the joke, trying to understand what Dazai was playing at. But all he saw was sincerity. His heart restricted and before he could think he was out of his seat.
“Don’t,” he heard himself say, though he sounded so hollow to his own ears. “Don’t you dare do this to me. You can’t ask me this. Not after everything.”
Dazais face fell, and he showed a vulnerable sorrow and guilt to Chuuya. Suddenly Chuuya knew. Not fully, not what had caused this but he could see the guilt and knew that was why Dazai was leaving him. He hated the way he looked then and at that moment hated him more than anything.
“I have to.” He spoke quietly, and the words pulled rage from Chuuya. He didn't understand himself, but before he knew it he was yelling. He had the distinct feeling of sand slipping between his fingers as he turned viscous at Dazai.
"Fuck you!” He yelled. He felt young again, small again, and he hated it. He hated everything. “I find the one place I'm accepted, I'm praised, not feared, and you want me to leave everything! My entire life to run away with you? Because you're having some kind of crazy crisis. What, you the demon protégé, grow a damn conscious? You just broke a man's jaw and put 3 bullets in him a few days ago but now you’re feeling guilty? Now you want out, after locking me in?”
Dazai had the fucking nerve to look anguished at Chuuya. He turned away from him and his pitiful expression. He wanted to stop talking, to just grab Dazai and shake him till he came back to his senses and they went on their next mission. But he kept going, unable to stop the volcano of anger erupting from him.
“Fuck you Dazai, you can't drag me into this and then expect me to just follow after you. I told you, I'm Not your dog, I never will be. No, I won't leave the mafia, I have loyalty," Chuuya breathed hard, trying to gain back the air he’d lost shouting. With growing anxiety, he waited for Dazai to respond.
"Then this is goodbye." His voice was a whisper in the eerie silence of the bar.
Chuuya refused to turn around, knowing that if he did he wouldn't be able to hold out. He felt like he was drowning, his throat closing and eyes beginning to water. He would never cry in front of Dazai, he wouldn't give him the satisfaction-
"Chuuya- '' a hand laid on his shoulder and he swung around, arm ready to punch but his weak fist was caught. Suddenly there was a soft flesh pressed against his lips. The kiss was soft and sweet, nothing like Dazai, and yet so completely him it hurt. The moment was so quick his brain didn't have time to catch up before the presser was gone, as was Dazai.
Chuuya blinked, eyes wide. Quickly he glanced around for Dazai but gave up. He had left. His partner, the one person he's willing to put his life on the line for, was gone, and Chuuya had no idea if he would ever see him again.
Warm tears spilled over and down his face and he choked through his tight throat. He’d cried so few times it felt so strange, but no matter how much he tried he couldn't stop. He wanted to be mad, he wanted to yell, break things, kill someone, and yet it was like all the strength in his body had drained away. He slid to the filthy ground and just cried for a very long time. Long past closing but the bartender never bothered him, so he simply stained there, falling apart.
~~~
He entered Mori Corp that morning with a spring in his step. It had been years since he'd been back to Japan but after a tour around Europe ensuring the port mafias' external affairs were in order and their various trade routes set up and working he could finally return.
It was still early but he had to report to the boss and get settled into his executive office. He strolled past men and women mingling around doing their various jobs and couldn't help a small smirk as they all stopped and fled at the sight of him. The respect, while well deserved, was definitely appreciated.
He entered the elevator but the door was stopped from closing by a sweaty and shaky man. His suit was practically drenched in sweat and Chuuya turned up his nose in disgust.
"What do you think you're doing." He spoke in a low warning tone.
"Sir," he sealed out, "the demon protégé has been caught,"
The words were ice water poured over Chuuya. Suddenly it was four years ago, but Chuuya wasn't small this time, he wasn't weak, and he had some shit he really wanted to say to a certain mackerel. “Where is he?” He said, pulling the man into the elevator and hitting the button to slide the doors closed.