Work Text:
“You may enter.”
Mori was presently hunched over his desk, scanning over an array of documents spread out across the available surface space of his desk. Having been messaged prior, Mori was perfectly aware of the fact that his guest was one of his most trusted executives and therefore felt no inclination to look up from what he was doing as Chuuya entered.
“Sir. Thank you for agreeing to see me on such short notice.”
“Yes well, I just so happened to be available. Not that it’s ever any trouble to meet with you, regardless. What can I help you with today, Chuuya?”
The question itself seemed cordial in nature. It would appear Mori was having one of his better days, which gave Chuuya a little more confidence going forward.
“Well, you see, I was wanting to take some time to visit Europe, sir.”
That would give Mori pause. Finally, he would look up, leveling his tired eyes on the young man in front of him. There was no way of knowing what he was thinking. Mori was a master when it came to the poker face.
“Is that so. Well, I’m sure you understand my curiosity.”
“I do sir. I’ve come prepared to explain my request. You see, I’ve recently come across some intel that suggests a sizeable organization has been gaining traction. As luck would have it, I’m familiar with their leader. It could prove valuable for us to have an ally out that way.”
Chuuya was currently walking a very fine line. He wasn’t lying, additionally, he wasn’t being completely honest either. He did know a leader. He had gotten some information on an organization. But that wasn’t why he wanted to go.
Sliding his hat from his head, as was customary for him before kneeling - He hoped it would sell his story - Chuuya would glance inside his hat. Tucked in the sweatband was a slip of paper containing a note from seven years ago. After all this time he still had it. He’d thought about finding the author of the note for a long time. Contemplated all the things he wanted to say that he hadn’t been able to put into words all those years ago. After so long, fate stepped in and offered him a scrap of a lead. Something to go off of. No matter what, Chuuya needed to get to London.
“I see.”
Mori would finally offer a response, lacing his fingers together under his chin while batting the idea around in his mind.
“And how long do you feel you would need to make the negotiations?”
“I would like to spend two weeks out there, sir. That would give me plenty of time to arrange a meeting and go over details. Get his ranks on board with the idea.”
How he planned to explain the lack of alliance upon his return was an issue for future Chuuya to deal with. Present Chuuya had a one-track mind. Just get there.
“Mmh, very well. I’ll grant you the trip. You’ll be flying out first thing in the morning so I suggest you head back and pack up now.”
“Thank you, sir.”
With a newfound sense of purpose flowing like wind beneath his wings, Chuuya would stand, placing the hat back on his head. While turning to leave a smile would spread across his face, one that would minimize when Mori’s voice rang out once more.
“Chuuya?”
The redhead would stop on a dime and turn to face his boss once more. Suddenly nervous that maybe he’d found some inconsistency in his story. There was a moment of panic, one that needed to be held down at all costs.
“Great work on taking the initiative.”
“Of course, boss.”
He’d offer one more nod before walking as calmly as possible through the doors before him. It wasn’t until he was back at his place that he would fully allow himself to crumble under the stress created from lying to his boss. Ordinarily, he would have had a glass of wine to calm his nerves. But, with his flight so close, there was no way to guarantee he’d be sober in time. A small price to pay for finally getting his shot at a redo.
Roughly 48 hours later, he was out and about, in London. Having spent the first day in his hotel room getting some semblance of bearings on where he should be looking for Shirase and getting some rest. Jet lag was always tough.
Now the real work could begin. Not wanting to risk losing any of his documentation, Chuuya left all of his work back in his room. For now, he was seated at a table, drinking Europe’s idea of tea on a cafe patio. The sun was out and there was a gentle breeze sweeping through. The air smelled different here, but not necessarily in a bad way. The thought of home prompted him to check his phone. Wondering if anyone had tried to contact him. It was just enough of a distraction that Chuuya wouldn’t notice that the rider of a Vespa styled scooter had pulled up alongside the curb, just on the other side of the stanchion outlining the parameters of the outdoor seating for the cafe, and was now looking right at him. It would have been hard to discern regardless given the rider was also wearing a helmet.
It also made hearing the man difficult, but it was what he had to say that caught the redhead’s attention.
“I’ll be damned, Chuuya is that you?”
Hearing his name, not to mention, the question being asked in perfect Japanese. How could he not lookup?
“Who the hell wants to know?”
Chuuya would argue that he wasn’t usually so hostile. That it was just the jetlag talking. But at the root, he was upset. There was fleeting concern that his cover already been blown. After all, it wouldn’t be in his best interest for an outside group to see a member of Yokohama’s Port Mafia skulking around. He’d even taken extra precaution to not stand out. Dressed the part and everything. He looked like any other member of the London population. So who was addressing him so freely in a public place?
The rider was clearly having a chuckle, which only irritated Chuyya further. Dark wash jeans and a leather jacket were the only details he had to go off of until the rider pulled his helmet off.
“Well jeez, you’re as charming as ever. I recall you being at least a little nicer to strangers.”
“Shirase?”
“Yeah, heh...what are the odds?”
The white-haired male was clearly shocked but far more amused. A casual shrug drawing attention to how broad his shoulders were now. Sure he’d planned on meeting the white-haired boy - No, man. Shirase was no longer a boy. He wasn’t fifteen with baby fat still clinging to his cheeks. He was now devastatingly handsome. All grown up. How had Chuuya not thought about that? Of course, at twenty-two, he would look different. That very idea would ruffle the redhead’s feathers a bit. Even passing by on a scooter, Shirase had recognized him. Had he really not changed at all?
“Since when do you drive - “
Before Chuuya could finish, the tea he had been reaching for would find itself spilled all over the table. Too distracted to look away from his childhood friend turned hunk, his hand had accidentally collided with his cup. Lucky for him, before the tea had a chance to spill over onto his lap, Shirase was jumping the stanchion and grabbing a napkin to stop the flood.
“That was unusually clumsy of you. Are you feeling okay?”
“Yeah well, it’s not every day that a ghost from my past coasts up on a scooter.”
Not wanting to leave all the work for Shirase, Chuuya had moved to set the cup back upright. Not that it had anything left in it. He just genuinely didn’t want to look back yet at the white-haired male.
“Well, in my defense? I live here. You’re - Yeah what are you doing here?”
Balling up the wet napkin, Shirase would wipe his hands on his pants, waiting for his answer. He wondered why Chuuya wasn’t looking at him, but the curiosity wasn’t insistent enough to make him ask.
“I’m here for work if you gotta know.”
“Right, okay. Well, speaking of, I’m kinda in the middle of a run myself but do you plan to be here still in fifteen minutes?”
Shirase wouldn’t wait for a response. Before Chuuya could get a word out, the white-haired man was hopping back over the divider and mounting his scooter once more.
“I promise. Fifteen minutes. Just sit tight, okay?”
And just as quickly as he had arrived, Shirase was gone again. Leaving Chuuya with a storm of emotions to muddle through.
“What. The. Hell.”
“I’m sorry?”
“Huh?”
Today was just not his day. The waitress had stopped over to take his cup and the dirty napkin and overheard Chuuya’s proclamation of confusion. Of course. And, since she wasn’t familiar with Japanse, all she had caught was his bordering aggressive tone.
Thankfully she was incredibly understanding when he took a second to explain the mess to her and even made it a point to bring him a muffin with his fresh cup of tea. He hadn’t asked for the food, but evidently, she was taking pity on him. Ordinarily, he would feel some kind of way about that sort of attention but since he was being made to sit there and wait, he might as well eat.
That prick.
--------
Just as he said, fifteen minutes later, Shirase was back. However this time, he had parked his scooter in the parking area and walked over to the table. Chuuya was minutely upset that he wouldn’t get to watch Shirase hop the stanchion once more.
“Great, you’re still here. Thanks for waiting.”
“Well, you’re lucky. I just happen to have today as a free day. So it wasn’t that big of a deal.”
Truth was, every day was a free day. But Shirase had no way of knowing and even though Chuuya was here to re-connect, he was still on edge for some reason. Not that he distrusted Shirasre. That wasn’t it at all. It was something on the opposite side of the spectrum. He felt like he cared too much. And way too quickly upon seeing his old friend again.
The note tucked away in his hat felt more present as Shirase took a seat at the table. Spinning his chair around to sit in it backwards. Straddling it, further showing off just how long his legs had gotten. And how strong they looked.
In response, Chuuya would lean back in his own seat. Crossing his legs and his arms. A defensive posture, Shirase would mentally note.
“Right well, work brought you here. I take it you’re still with them then?”
Naturally, Shirase still took issue with Chuuya’s employment. But it was obvious he was attempting to be civil.
“Yeah, I’m still with... them. But working for them, it’s really not what we thought it would be. It’s not all bad.”
“Right, I get it. And uh, that partner of yours?”
Upon the mention of Dazai, Shirase’s eyes glazed over with something far more sinister. If he hated the Port Mafia? He loathed Osamu Dazai.
Lucky for Shirase, so did Chuuya.
“That rat bastard left about four years ago. Not a word to me. Just left.”
There was more to the story there but given they were in public, it was obvious Chuuya didn’t want to say too much on the off chance a stray individual were to over here.
The idea of Dazai being gone gave Shirase a reason to smile.
“Right well, since you’re here - Have you had a chance to actually see London yet?”
“No, this is the first place I’ve been. Jetlag got the best of me so I laid low the first day.”
“So what I’m hearing is, I showed up at just the right time. C’mon, let’s go.”
Shirase would signal over to the waitress. He seemed awfully familiar with her, which gave Chuuya a sense of comfort - given, it implied Shirase was doing well here in his new home. Simultaneously it pissed him off because she was clearly interested in him.
“Cassie, would you mind adding this to my tab? Tell the old man I’ll be by later this week to settle the whole thing.”
“Sure thing, Shirase.”
Amazing, his childhood friend had gotten QUITE good with the English language. And that ACCENT? What was that about? Chuuya would sink into his chair a bit, thankful that the young man was too busy with the waitress placing a hand on his bicep and giving a cute little squeeze.
Obnoxious.
Turning to face Chuuya, Shirase was all smiles, slipping back into Japanese for him. Honestly, he was just showing off. Peacocking if you will. He felt as if he had something to prove. Unfortunately, it looked as if it may have had the opposite effect.
“What’s with that face? You look like Yuan the one time someone ate her chocolate bar without asking. And that was a scary face. So I gotta say, not a good look for you.”
This only furthered his scowl. Secretly, however, Chuyya was happy to hear Yuan’s name.
“What the Hell was with that accent? And if you’d rather stay and flirt with the waitress I have better things to be doing.”
Without another word, Chuuya would stand and start off for the exit. Shirase would remain on his heels.
“Okay, uh, wanna pump the breaks and tell me what’s going on all of the sudden? You showed up here. In London. And I just happen to see you, not like you were trying to hide. Are we still fighting? Because I was pretty sure we squashed that Chuuya. But if we haven’t, getting mad and storming off doesn’t really solve anything.”
“I know that.”
He’d keep walking just long enough to get out of earshot of the crowd. It was crazy that Shirase had become a voice of reason. Sure, he still had this charming dumb boy air about him, but now, when it seemed to matter, he was able to step up to the plate and offer rational exposition.
“Look, I’m not here for work. I -”
Chuuya wasn’t really eager to have to come clean but, the longer he held off on being honest, the more opportunities for situations like this, ones where they were fighting for no good reason, would have to come up.
“- came here to find you. So, you finding me first? it wasn’t what I had planned. I’m still not even sure what I’m doing here, okay?”
That was a lie. But he’d deal with that later. For now, he just hated how easy it was for Shirase to look at him. To see him and seem perfectly fine while he on the other hand was a complete mess. A well-hidden one, but a mess all the same.
“I saw you and I was suddenly right back to being a kid again. I didn’t have answers back then and I feel like I don’t have them now.”
The sudden honesty took Shirase by surprise. It was obvious by his silence and the way he was rubbing the back of his neck.
“Look, I don’t wanna fight with you. I know what I did was shitty. I can’t even just say I was a dumb kid because back then, as scared as I was, part of me knew it was wrong. But, I’ve changed. You don’t have to take my word for it, but if you just come with me? Just for a day? I can show you. We’ve never been good with words anyway. I didn’t exactly expect that to change.”
“Yeah, that’s true.”
“I know. So just, c’mon.”
Finally, Chuuya felt as if he could smile. A small portion of the weight had been lifted.
“Still not sure how I feel about you calling the shots here.”
He was pleased to see Shirase smiling back.
“Yeah well, you’re in my city now.”
As soon as they reached his scooter, Shirase would offer Chuuya his helmet.
“It’s the only one I’ve got so you put it on and I’ll just take it slow.”
“Are you serious right now?”
Still holding the helmet out, Shirase wasn’t really understanding the issue with his idea.
“Uh, yes? Problem?”
Without another word, Chuuya would activate his ability, causing that ever-familiar red glow to appear.
“Oh. Right. Heh, sorry.”
“Good to see you’re still a little dumb, I couldn’t handle you suddenly being a genius.”
“Hey!”
“Just get on the scooter. Show me around your city.”
Shirase’s lips would pucker up into a pout before he put his helmet on, which gave Chuuya a reason to chuckle.
The day would be spent seeing major sights and exploring little hole-in-the-wall attractions that only locals knew about. Chuuya had seen plenty of sights in his life, but nothing quite so intimate as this. These were places Shirase had been visiting for years. These were his streets and his sidewalks. Plenty of people knew him, he was recognized all over, but it was always a glint of admiration he saw. Shirase had become someone that the public respected.
Neither of them spent any time discussing work. It was all about memories both old and new.
That night Shirase would drop Chuuya off at his hotel. Neither of them would make any kind of a move. It left them both feeling a tad disappointed. However, they did exchange numbers and plan to meet the next day.
The night was filled with back and forth texts that led to a phone call. Chuuya would fall asleep on the line and Shirase would stay for another twenty minutes just listening to him breathe. Thankful that all those years ago, he had failed in his stupid mission to kill his best friend.
Their time together would continue in that manner. Day out, dropping him back off, texts that led to a phone call.
Quickly, both young men realized that it wasn’t enough. So around day four, Chuuya would check out of his hotel and begin staying with Shirase.
They were sitting on the couch, having just finished a movie. It was a little after midnight at this point. Chuuya insisted that he would sleep on the couch, much to Shirase’s protest.
“Well okay, I’ll just get you a blanket and pillow then. Since you’re gonna be stubborn.”
“Always. Oh but hey, before you do that, there’s something I’ve been meaning to ask you about.”
Shirase had stood up to get the pillow and blanket but something in Chuuya’s tone urged him to sit back down.
“This doesn’t sound good.”
Shirase couldn’t help the concern in his voice. Things had been going SO WELL, he was distraught over the idea of something taking it away. Sure they hadn’t really gotten to the root of anything and there was clear tension of a more mature variety but neither of them wanted to be the one to push that boundary. So was this the part where Chuuya was going to tell him that it wasn’t really going to work out? Was this going to be their second and more permanent goodbye?
“So, it’s a stretch but do you remember the night I came back and got my lunch box?”
Oh. Curveball.
Of course, he did. Shirase had only thought about that night almost every day of his life for many, many years.
“Uh, it’s a bit foggy but yeah. You showed up, I tried to attack you again like a moron. And we...sorta...ya know.”
“Yeah… Well, okay. So, do you remember this then?”
Pulling his hat off, Chuuya would slide the note out of his hat for the first time since having put it in there. It had aged, but the writing was still perfectly legible.
‘I love you.’
Written by a much younger Shirase.
“You...you kept that? Jeez, it’s been years. I didn’t even think you’d find it, honestly. I, heh, I slipped it into your pocket when I pulled you in closer during that kiss but I was never sure if it had made it all the way in.”
As always, Shirase was here to make light of things but Chuuya was set on a very stern path. He needed to know. His blue eyes were set on Shirase.
“Did you mean it?”
“What?”
“Shirase, be serious for a second. Did you mean it?”
Chuuya would look to the note in his hand that he was holding out for the other to see, then back up to Shirase. Whatever he was feeling, he was extra careful to shield that emotion.
Adopting a facade of calm.
Shirase, having been put on the spot couldn’t manage to do the same, so instead, he’d look off to the side. His voice low.
“If I did, - If I still do, would that be so wrong?”
That was all Chuuya needed to hear. Tossing the note back into his hat which was now on the table in front of the couch, Chuuya would lean forward, taking Shirase’s face in his hands and moving right in for a kiss that they had both been silently begging for this entire time.
It started off fast and a little bit messy. Neither of them had been expecting it after all. But within a moment’s time, they would find a pace that worked for them. It felt perfectly natural. None of the awkward fumbling from their fifteen-year-old kiss.
This wasn’t a goodbye kiss. This was a welcome home kiss.
One that quickly divulged into both of them stripping out of their clothes and sharing the bed after all.
Tangled up in each other, after the fun had concluded (for the time being), Shirase would look down to the head of orange locks laying on his arm as he combed a hand through them.
“So, I guess you won’t be needing the couch then huh?”
“Fuck you.”
Chuuya’s tone was soft and clearly playful, regardless of the bite he tried to put behind it.
“We just played that game, remember?”
“Mmmh, still.”
Leaning up, Chuuya would place a tired kiss on Shirase’s lips. The bed had never felt so comfortable before.
The next few days were similar in the sense that two young men having just been reunited with their first love wanted nothing more than to explore every inch of the other. The escapades started in the bed but quickly moved to other places. The couch. The shower. Once in the kitchen “for the thrill of it”.
The next week was a series of days out and nights in, Hands all over each other as if the only thing keeping them attached to the planet was the other.
The dynamic was always a coin toss. Every round would start as a battle for dominance but there could only be one victor. Thankfully, they both felt comfortable in either role so it just added an extra layer of thrill, never knowing where you might end up.
On a random night much like any of the others, Shirase would open his eyes and check the clock. 3 am. Wordlessly, he’d slide out of the bed, careful not to wake Chuuya up. Slipping on a robe, he’d exit the bedroom, but not before pulling a handgun out of his dresser.
Entering the living room, he was perfectly calm but he had his weapon ready.
“Rumor had it you were lurking around. You know that I have eyes and ears all around here, right? Sorta surprised it took you this long to show yourself.”
From the shadows, a tall male figure would emerge. An uninvited guest in his home, and in his city. It had been years since he’d seen this particular individual but Shirase had made it a very specific point to NEVER forget that face.
“Perceptive. I suppose I should have considered that you’d wise up over time. However, given our last encounter, my hopes weren’t exactly high as far as your possible intellectual growth was concerned.”
“If you’re trying to piss me off so I do something irrational, you can save your breath. Just get to the point, what are you doing here?”
Dazai would take another step forward, prompting Shirase to fix his gun more firmly on Dazai.
“You can talk to me from over there.”
Nonchalantly, Dazai would raise his hands. Clearly, he wasn’t worried, which of course pissed Shirase off.
“He’s here, right? I’m assuming in your room. I know he checked out of his hotel a few days ago.”
“Why do you know all this? What business do you even have with him? You’re not his partner anymore, And you were never his friend.”
A hollow chuckle would emerge from Dazai as he slid his hands into the pockets of his black jacket. Anyone from his new life would deem it uncharacteristically dark for him - Shirase felt it to be perfectly on brand.
“You spend a few days with him and suddenly you’re some self-proclaimed authority on what Chuuya is to me and what I am to him?”
“We were best friends before you -”
“Before I what? Gave you a little nudge? That tiny sherd of doubt was all it took for you to completely turn on him. And you wanna stick your nose down at me?”
“We were fifteen. Does that not register to you? How out of touch are you? You manipulated children. You’re not cunning, you’re a monster.”
Dazai had succeeded in his first goal, which was, in fact, to get Shirase riled up. The even tone had burned away leaving seething rage. It took everything in Shirase’s power to keep his voice down. He didn’t want Chuuya to know that Dazai was ever here.
“Right. Well, if that helps you sleep at night. I’m actually not here to re-hash the past. You have something of mine and I’m here to bring him home.”
“You’re out of your mind if you think I’m letting you get past me.”
Shirase would cock his head to the side, cracking his neck. The tension was building quickly. Dazai would smirk in response.
“Lemme ask you something? What’s the end game here? You ask Chuuya to stay with you? Do you honestly think he would leave everything he knows? Do you think you’re worth leaving the Port Mafia over? Do you think you could ever hope to convince him?”
Shirase’s jaw would lock into place as Dazai continued.
“His home is back in Japan. And no matter my alliance, he and I have a deal. An understanding, if you will. I call and he comes. No matter what. If I need him, he’ll be there. Besides, he needs me.”
“You’re wrong.”
Dazai’s eyes would narrow, but he’d allow Shirase to speak. Interested to hear what sort of self-assuring bullshit he had to spill in light of the facts.
“He doesn’t need you. He doesn’t need anyone. The fucked up thing is? He’s the only one that doesn’t see it. And because of that, he’s spent his whole life around assholes like us that convinced him, he needed us.”
Shirase had spent a LONG time thinking about some of the last words he had said to Chuuya. Both on that cliffside and back at the arcade. Just the most scathing words from a scared fifteen-year-old boy.
“If I’m right for him, I won’t need to convince him to leave the Port Mafia. He’ll decide that all on his own. So don’t get too comfortable on your throne, you narcissistic prick. You left and he didn’t bother to go after you because he doesn’t need /or/ want you. But for me? He came all the way to London to find me.”
A beat of silence would exist between them before Dazai finally bothered to respond. It was obvious he was growing weary of this little game.
“You done?”
“Almost. One more thing? Sex on the ceiling, something you’d know nothing about? It’s hot. Just an FYI.”
That last bit wasn’t really necessary but Shirase was not gonna miss a chance to take a pot shot at Dazai’s ego, knowing his ability never allowed Chuuya to use his. Would it matter? Only Dazai would know the real answer to that. But man, it felt good to say that out loud. Because truthfully? It was pretty hot.
“Right, well your juvenile activities are your own business. I’m sure your amateur bedroom etiquette will become unsatisfying before too much longer.”
Taking a step backward towards the door, Dazai wouldn’t pull a hand out until he was ready to take the knob.
“I’ve decided to let you attempt the long game. Honestly, less work for me if you crash and burn all on your own. He’ll come back. Mark my words. It’s not a matter of if but when. And once he’s safely returned to me? I’ll make sure your loose end of an existence doesn’t disrupt us ever again.”
With that Dazai would give an unsettlingly charming smile and see himself out.
Shirase would wait an extra moment, gun still at the ready. When he was certain Dazai wasn’t going to come back in, he’d walk over to the door, relocking it. Not that it would keep him out, it was more so the principle of the matter.
He was exhausted. Dealing with Dazai was draining. It left him with so much to think about. Where was Chuuya’s mind? Was it even fair to ask? Did Shirase really have any right?
Sliding his gun back into the designated dresser drawer, he’d slip his robe off letting it fall to the floor not even slightly concerned with it right now.
Quietly, he’d shuffle back into the bed. Chuuya was still resting peacefully. Shirase was thankful for that. A warm smile would appear as he ever so carefully brushed a strand of orange hair from his face.
Regardless of what Chuuya decided, Shirase could never hate him. That love hadn’t faltered once. It may have gone into hiding over the years but the ember never really died. Only to be reborn the moment he spotted Chuuya a little over a week ago now, sitting at that cafe. It almost felt too good to be true.
“This time, I’m getting it right. I promise.”
It was an almost silent proclamation. But it was meant with the ferocity of a promise shouted from the rooftops.
Were Chuuya awake, he would have promised the same to Shirase. Recognizing that he could have handled the situation much differently back then, as well.
One step at a time, they would patch up the shredded tapestry of their lives.
However, only time would tell if the work would last.