Chapter Text
Chuuya is hiding behind a pillar, overseeing the locked vault ahead of him while his partner, Dazai, is sitting on one of the higher poles with a laptop in front of him. With Katai’s help, he’s trying to breach into the vault’s security where the rogue is supposed to be hiding. Waiting for Dazai’s code, Tainted Sorrow readily runs in his veins, ready to ambush the rogue and make sure that she won’t run anywhere else.
A loud click and the sound of wheels turning signals the opening of the vault, and with Dazai’s finger code, Chuuya throws his red balls of gravity towards the area as he runs to investigate the vault. The rogue is running towards Chuuya, intending to make her exit, but like hell Chuuya is letting her escape.
“Come here, fucker!”
Three figures appear out of the smoke and another two from the ceilings, attacking Chuuya with guns, knives, punches, and kicks - nothing Chuuya can’t handle with his gravity. Such small fries can’t even be counted as distractions, but unexpectedly, a bomb explodes somewhere from outside the vault, and several rusty poles come crashing to the ground along with Dazai’s lanky figure flying mid-air.
“Fuck, Osamu-”
Chuuya hurriedly runs towards Dazai, catching him before he crashes to the ground, evacuating both of them from the collapsing architecture, and puts Dazai down when they are outside the building.
“Oi, you okay?”
“Mhm, I know you’ll come and get me, Chuuya~”
Annoyed, Chuuya kicks Dazai on his shins, earning him a pained moan. “Asshole, this is not the time to make jokes! Did you predict this?”
“Of course, you brutish chibi, who do you take me for?”
Chuuya is preparing to yell at this cocky partner of his when a foreign hand taps his shoulder. A chuckle follows the rogue as she runs away, and with a yellow glow enveloping Chuuya, the effect of her Ability takes over.
When Chuuya opens his eyes again, Dazai is gone, and so is the scenery around him.
Understanding the gist of the rogue’s Ability - time travel - there are only two possibilities: Chuuya is currently in the past or future timeline. A memory from ten years ago arises in his mind, reminding him of a situation he had been through in the past, and Chuuya gets out of the alley he arrived in.
The city is bustling with life. How nostalgic, the Yokohama of this time.
Now that he’s here, might as well have some fun by messing with someone while waiting for Dazai to finish their mission so Chuuya can come back to his original timeline. And so, Chuuya walks up to the third floor of the office building where the Agency is located and enters through the door instead of the window that he prefers, revealing the sight of the Agency’s workers buried in paperwork and phone calls.
If he remembers correctly, Chuuya of this timeline is currently behind the Agency’s President’s private office with Kouyou, negotiating on a deal in their temporary truce with Fukuzawa, Kunikida, and Dazai.
“...You look a lot like Chuuya-san.”
His wine-drinking buddy - Kenji, still a boy in this timeline - greets him.
“I’m here to ask for your assistance.”
“Oh! Please take a seat first. We’ll come back to you in a moment.”
Kenji gestures to the waiting area where several couches are located. Chuuya takes a seat and casually sips the cheap, low-quality tea Kenji brings out, deliberately ignoring several pairs of eyes watching his figure.
Really, they are better off continuing their work rather than gawking upon Chuuya’s awesome, branded fashion. His casual-business attire of maroon shirt, black suit, tie, and slacks are much simpler and fits him better. Oh, and let's not forget the hat.
No one dares to come closer until the agency’s jinko is sacrificed to take a seat across from him. He's still rough on the edges, nervous fidgeting going all over the place - but he'll learn how to be better in a few years.
“Out with it, jinko.”
Atsushi squeaks in surprise and looks to the side. “I, uh, I’m just wondering- I don’t mean to be rude, but- uh, are you perhaps Chuuya-san’s relative?”
“I am Chuuya,” he states, “From the future.”
The occupants of the office perk up upon Chuuya’s statement. Kenji and Kyoka take a seat beside Atsushi, joining him on the couch, while the others drag their office chairs near Chuuya.
He feels like a zoo exhibit now.
“How- how did you get here…?” Atsushi is slowly looking back at Chuuya again in hesitation.
“Got hit by a rogue Ability user. We’re on the way to catch that bastard back, so I’ll just wait until that time comes.”
“And you think it’s a good idea to come to the agency instead?” Yosano asks, narrowing her eyes in suspicion. Oh well, it’s her problem whether she believes it or not - it’s not every day you hear of someone time travelling, right?
“I don’t think that’s any of your concern.”
Just as he remembered, the door of the President’s office opens and Kunikida shouts, “Hey! What are you all doing? Get back to work! We’re already behind schedule!”
Chuuya’s eyes meet his younger counterparts’ as his younger self stares at him in disbelief and starts cursing, “What the- Who the fuck are you ?”
“Ew, you have a doppelganger, Chuuya? One is enough to make people’s eyes burn off your hideous face.”
“Ha? Take a look at yourself in the mirror, bastard, two of me is better than one of you-!”
His younger self retaliates before he can open his mouth to reply to Dazai’s comment in reflex, and he almost wants to laugh at how familiar it is even after ten years. Dazai is still a shitty bastard who likes to rile Chuuya up for his entertainment and Chuuya, despite knowing this, keeps getting pissed off by Dazai's insulting jab.
Kunikida barges his way closer, looking very much displeased, and with a stern voice, he demands, “Explain yourself. Who are you?”
Chuuya raises his eyebrow, unperturbed by the man. “Must I explain myself again?”
“This is Chuuya-san from ten years in the future, Kunikida-san!” answers Atsushi. “He’s brought here by an Ability.”
“Oh? You’ve become careless, Chuuya. Is it because you’ve become old?” Dazai taunts, snickering. “And I can’t believe you still have that hideous hat!”
“Leave my hats out, you fucker-”
“It’s your fucking fault, you useless vagabond!” Chuuya shouts, standing up, glaring daggers at Dazai, no longer caring that he’s technically ten years older than this Dazai. “If you didn’t fall off that fucking pole, I wouldn’t even be here!”
“Geh, still loud and annoying even in senility.”
“I’m only thirty-three, mind you-”
“Ahem.” Kunikida clears his throat and Chuuya pauses from his argument. He’s mature enough to prioritize other things that are not related to Dazai. “Well, Nakahara-san, can you explain how you are going back to your own timeline?”
Chuuya takes a deep breath to calm his anger. “The others are in the process of capturing the rogue. I should be back in around twenty minutes when Dazai nullifies her ability.”
“The Agency and Port Mafia is still on truce until then?”
“Somewhat.”
Soukoku and shin-soukoku’s relationship status has a lot to do with the ceasefire between two organizations, going even further as working together occasionally. Whatever tension between them has cooled down far from ten years ago.
“Isn’t that... interesting?” Ranpo hums, eyes glinting in amusement as he looks over Chuuya. Those dangerous eyes must have picked out a lot of information about the future already just by the few sentences Chuuya said, and Chuuya reminds himself to control his mouth better.
“Right... If so, then please wait here. Dazai, Atsushi, I’m appointing you both to guard him in case he tries to do anything dangerous. All of you, get back to work!”
Chuuya scowls, raising both of his hands. “Relax, I’m not going to do anything.”
“Suspicious chibis from the future can’t be trusted, right?” Dazai flops on the space on his right, putting a hand on his shoulder, while Atsushi takes on his left. Kouyou is pushing (more like forcing) his younger self to be seated across from him instead of leaving the agency. Her red eyes are filled with mirth, burning through Chuuya's figure, and he prepares himself for the questions.
“Red suits you well.”
Kouyou in this timeline is technically younger than Chuuya, but no matter what timeline he is in, Ane-san will still be Ane-san.
“It’s you who recommended it for me, Ane-san.”
Kouyou hums appreciatively. A smirk forms on her lips, along with that malicious glint on her eyes - the ones that only appear when she’s threatening or torturing someone - and it sends chills to Chuuya’s spine.
Whatever she’s going to say, it’s not going to be pretty.
“Are you married, lad?”
Dazai and Atsushi’s curious eyes turn to his way, and Chuuya pauses upon the question. As long as he doesn't mention any names, it's supposed to be fine, right? He doesn't have a clear memory about this encounter, after all, being so weirded out and angry at the same time.
Kouyou points a finger to her bare neck. Ah, the collar.
“Oh- I am.”
“What? ”
The expression drawn all over his younger self would be funny if it’s not his face that Chuuya’s seeing. His reaction is understandable - up until eight years ago, Chuuya thought that getting married and having a family of his own weren’t something that he would ever have. It’s just… too human, he supposed.
“Boo, if you’re trying to prank us, you need to do better, Chuuya. I can't believe there's someone who's willing to marry you!”
Chuuya uses every willpower he has to bite his tongue from lashing out, his hands turning into a tight grip to control himself from punching Dazai in the face. Dazai was the one who tricked him into signing a marriage certificate so he’d take Dazai’s surname, and he's also the one who put the ring on Chuuya’s ring finger - the audacity of this brat to say such things, seriously - and the subtle, unpleasant scent seeping out from Dazai’s scent glands are an absolute contrast to the words he sprouts out, and it pisses Chuuya off to the core.
I pity the person who married you instead. The words halt on Chuuya’s tip of the tongue, remembering that Dazai would use it against him. Chuuya clicks his tongue in annoyance. “No comment. Eat shit, Dazai.”
Dazai smirks, humming, acting like he’s unperturbed by everything, and pokes on the black leather encircling Chuuya's neck. “And to think that you become someone’s dog! Did you forget that you’re my dog, Chuuya!”
Breathe. Chuuya restrains himself from grabbing Dazai by the neck and shouts some sense to the asshole as he throws his stupid body out from the window. He takes a deep breath, trying to control the anger from unleashing. Being mated didn't stop people from confessing to Chuuya and Dazai was the one who’s getting all worked up about it. That was the main reason why Dazai bought the mating collar for Chuuya in the first place, and when he refused to use it, Dazai hid every piece of chokers he had.
"Who the fuck you're calling a dog, bastard?" Chuuya says through gritted teeth, stomping his foot on Dazai successfully. A pained yelp follows, and Chuuya smirks, twirling his fingers around the o-ring. “My alpha is on the possessive side.”
A wave of satisfaction runs inside him when Dazai’s scent sours. Dazai has great control over his pheromones, but with years of being mates and living together, Chuuya can pick up the subtle changes of his limited pheromone release - and his current scent screams all about jealousy. Really, things between them can be so much easier if this stupid alpha can just be honest with himself and ask Chuuya out.
Across him, young-Chuuya self looked like he’d rather die than to hear what the future will bring him while Kouyou seems very much delighted to know more.
“Did I arrange the wedding?”
“Yup. It was wonderful.”
“Japanese-style, yes?”
“Mhm.” Turning to his younger self, he points out, “Better prepare yourself for the kimono-fitting, me, because let me tell you, it was hell. ”
“Right...” he answers hesitantly, looking at Chuuya dubiously. It’s surreal, of course, seeing another version of yourself. “What happened to the hair, by the way?”
“I cut it. This look fits me quite well, don’t you think?” Chuuya misses his long hair, but on the other hand, short hair is definitely way more convenient. The memory of his red locks falling down to the floor when the barber cut it down and shaved his head into an undercut was a sad one, but when he remembered how his kid gobbled, pulled, and accidentally put glue on his hair made him think that it was the right choice. “It’s less of a hassle if you have kids to deal with.”
Loud gasps fill in the room, leaving them in a dumbfounded expression - except for Kouyou.
“Chibikko is having another chibi? How is that possible-!”
“Ki-kids?! ”
“Oh? How do they look like?”
“The cutest. They inherit my superior genes, certainly.” Chuuya smiles fondly, his heart warming up upon the thoughts of his precious, sweet children. “Although I wish that my firstborn looks less like my mate.”
Frowning, Chuuya is still baffled by how she inherits nearly nothing from Chuuya’s physique except for his blue eyes, making her a splitting image of Dazai.
Young-Chuuya stands up, shaking his head, intending to leave. “Ugh, I don’t want to hear any of this shit anymore.”
Chuuya snickers as he catches up to him, reaching out to his other self by the wrist. “Don’t think about it. Pretend like this never happened.”
The twenty-three-year-old stares at him for a moment before swatting Chuuya’s hands away and exits the office. “Whatever.”
Shrugging, Chuuya follows suit, smiling at Kouyou and Atsushi.
“It’s about time that I leave anyway. Nice seeing you guys again,” he says, turning to Dazai, frowning upon him in spite. “Except you, shitty mackerel. Go to hell.”
Dazai releases a sigh, mirroring Chuuya’s displeased frown. “The feeling’s mutual, slug.”
“I’m reminding you, stay the fuck away from my younger self, asshole.”
“Hm? What is that? All I hear is a dog barking.”
“Fuck you.”
Narrowing his eyes upon Dazai’s annoying form and smirk one last time, Chuuya waves goodbye to Kouyou and Atsushi, and as he walks out the door, his figure disappears in ribbons of yellow.
“You had fun, chibi?”
Chuuya arrives in an alley near the police station when he comes back to his senses. In front of him, Dazai is leaning on the wall, watching him with a trademark smirk and his arm folded on his chest.
“Where’s the rogue?”
“We handed her over to the police already, it’s their business now.” Dazai approaches him and pulls him close by the shoulders. “Now, let’s eat! I’m hungry. You have to treat me to a good meal to make up for the troubles you’ve caused me over the years! I can’t believe Chuuya manipulated me to confess to him!”
“It’s you who give trouble to me, idiot! Besides, I didn’t do anything! Not my fault that you’re a stupid, possessive bastard,” Chuuya growls, pushing Dazai away. “And besides, don’t you have reports to finish?”
“Eh, I don’t feel like doing it,” Dazai whines, hanging all over Chuuya again with his lanky limbs. “I'm letting Kunikida-kun do it.”
“Seriously, I feel sorry for him. He deserves better. I think I should take him out for lunch instead.”
“Chuuya, how could you go on lunch dates with another alpha when you have me already-?”
“Then you better finish your goddamn report before you pick up the kids later,” Chuuya huffs, dragging Dazai with him out of the alley. “I’ll be home late. Got some stuff to finish.”
“Stop by the supermarket to buy some milk for the kids and canned crabs too, will you? We’re running out of ‘em.”
“I’ll buy the milk, but not the crabs.”
“Don’t be stingy, chibikko, it’s been two weeks since I last had them.”
“And let’s keep it that way. I won’t let you die from preservatives overdose.”
Dazai laughs and kisses Chuuya on the cheek. “Aw, sometimes I can’t tell if you hate me or love me, really."
“Just to make it clear, I don't want to raise my kids alone.” Chuuya rolls his eyes, stopping in front of a restaurant that offers kanimeshi. “You fine eating here?”
Dazai drags him into the establishment, and in a sing-song voice, Dazai replies, “Chuuya is paying anyway, so I don’t really care~”
“What a shameless bastard.”
A fond smile forms on Chuuya lips, and he thinks, some things never do change, after all.