Archive of Our Own

The flower that withers too young leaves behind its beauty.

Chuuya didn’t know how, but one day, he woke up with a splitting headache.

He had a dream that night. And that was saying something, as Chuuya never dreamt. Rather, he couldn’t .

It felt so real, too real. From the way he returned to Port Mafia after a business trip just to realise Dazai had abandoned him, to the way he saw Dazai again, four years later, as his enemy.

He would say it’s all bullshit, as he was certain Dazai wouldn’t ever leave the Port Mafia.

So Chuuya was fairly disappointed when the night after, and the night after that, and every night after, he dreamt of a similar scenario.

In his dreams, Dazai would always leave him.

And it was so ridiculous! Because it was just a dream. Because it was only a dream, it shouldn’t be the reality. So it’s illogical to feel so hurt just because of a dream . From the start, why was he even hurt ?! The Mackerel could leave whenever he wanted and it wouldn’t even bother Chuuya.

That bastard was just his boss, and the only downside, if he did leave, was Chuuya (as the second in command) taking over his mountain of paperworks and the entirety of Port Mafia, which he never did, and will never ask to do.

Chuuya chuckled to himself after dreaming for a month straight when he had never dreamt before. He wondered if it’s normal to remember every dream you had.

After that month, his nights quieted down.

It was so silent that he nearly wished to see Dazai turning away from him again… nearly .

“Oi Dazai!” Chuuya barged into his boss’ room without knocking.

As always, Dazai seemed to have fully expected his arrival as he sat on a chair, waiting for him. “Oh, Chuuya. What a pleasant surprise. You have come to visit me.” Again, Chuuya knew fully well it was neither pleasant nor a surprise.

Chuuya clicked his tongue and stomped his way over, towering above Dazai. “Don’t fuck around, shitty Dazai! You’re the one who called me stating it’s an emergency! So-?!?”

Dazai stood up and leaned into him. Their faces were close - too close for his comfort, but Chuuya didn’t back away. He sucked in a breath; his lips went dry.

They were so close that Chuuya could feel a phantom feeling of Dazai’s long lashes fanning across his cheeks, and suddenly the room felt infinitely hotter.

From this close, he could see how beautiful Dazai’s eyes- *cough* eye was. It captivated him. Those dark orbs seemingly pulled him in. They were brown, he could tell that much. But the lack of lighting made it seem almost obsidian, swallowing every inch of light it touched.

A hand came to rest on Chuuya's cheeks and stroked it a few times. Those long fingers traced his face; a thumb came to a stop at the corner of his eye. “Can I not just wish to see my very loyal dog’s face?”

And Chuuya almost fainted from the lack of oxygen.

Dazai was wearing a smirk, as always. But he could tell the genuineness hidden in his voice; that tiny softened edge. Chuuya couldn’t help but wonder just what it was supposed to mean.

He wondered how long it had been already, but only when he felt Dazai step back could Chuuya feel the air rushing back into his lungs. His face felt a little warmer - he wondered what that meant too.

Unsurprisingly, Dazai chose that moment to laugh in his face, claiming how dumb he looked. And unsurprisingly, Chuuya reacted, lashing out. In moments, the awkward air of whatever the fuck happened back then between them was gone.

This he could handle, Chuuya thought to himself in the back of his head as he continued to whack Dazai’s head in hopes he could make him stupid.

Dazai snickered like the bastard he was, a slightly flushed smile sneaking its way onto his face. If Chuuya didn’t know any better, he’d say it looked fond , which- he thought ‘fond’ and ‘Dazai’ should not be permitted to be in the same sentence.

“Actually, I called to ask if you’re interested in going on a date with me~”

It took a few seconds for Dazai’s words to completely process before Chuuya was back at strangling the bastard with an incredibly lit up face. At this rate, he would most likely reach his daily blushing quota, which wasn’t unusual when he was graced by the presence of one Dazai Osamu.

“A-Aww~ is Chi-ack-bi rejecting me~? I’m so- hu-urt~” Dazai choked out, unbothered by the hand wrapped around his neck, and dramatically hid in a corner when Chuuya finally let go of him.

That!! Bastard!! Had!! The!! Audacity!! To!! Sulk!!
Disgusting!!!!

Chuuya rolled his eyes and sat on Dazai’s chair. Because why not. He just had to wait until Dazai decided to be serious and discuss actual matters. As much as he’d like to say otherwise, unfortunately, it wasn’t the first time this happened.

Dazai audibly humphed and stood up slowly, like some cliche, unhinged villain. Chuuya deadpanned at how dramatic Dazai was. Let’s not forget to mention Dazai also turned around slowly now, shall we? Oh! And the way his eye darkened and lips turned from a pout (a pout!) to a shit-eating grin.

Chuuya instantly felt as if hell was about to break loose.

“As the boss of Port Mafia, it is an order for you to go on a date with me.”

…

“You fuckin- you’re having too much fun with your authority-!!”

Dazai laughed, “it’s okay, Chuuya, I’ll be a great boyfriend to you.”

~~~

“Why are we here?” Chuuya asked in distrust. Dazai brought them to a cemetery filled with flowers- colours . It definitely wasn’t a place Dazai would frequent, Chuuya thought. Even though it was a place of death, Dazai wasn’t the kind of person to be sympathetic enough to visit anyone. Then again, today was anything but normal.

Dazai didn’t answer him and instead wrapped a hand around his wrist. Chuuya was being dragged along to wherever Dazai was bringing him to, because of course he wasn’t allowed to know. And, as expected, Dazai had answered none of his questions.

They arrived in front of a tree, and Dazai wordlessly plopped down onto the grass and leaned by the tree. He gestured for Chuuya to sit next to him, under the shade.

Dazai was eerily still as silence engulfed them. Chuuya didn’t know what to do; the situation was too awkward. He snuck a peek at Dazai and realised the bastard dozed off-!!

What was the point of all these again…?

Oh, right… Chuuya groaned as he remembered it was supposed to be a date. A date. A date . In the cemetery- almost forgot that, oops.

Still, a date, no less. And yet Dazai decided it’d be a good idea to be lazy - he probably just wanted to skip out on paperwork, even though that’s all he did nowadays. The boss doesn't do dirty work, mind you. They’re for his underlings; in other words, his dearest Chuuya. Though of course, we’d still need him to strategize for Chuuya, because when had Dazai’s plans ever failed?

Chuuya, without realising himself, had been staring at Dazai for a while now. Eyes tracing the shape of his face, hands reaching out. But Chuuya’s mind was blank. He didn’t know why his boss asked him to come out just to sleep (they definitely had better alternatives than feeding yourself to mosquitos, ew), nor why his heart felt so constricted, nor where his hands were planning to land on- and can someone tell him why the fuck he was leaning in?!?!

As all awkward moments tended to be, Dazai chose this moment to indicate he was, in fact, not asleep! What a surprise!

The bastard smirked before he cracked his eye open at Chuuya’s incredibly close face, silently snickering at the cliched romcom scene.

Pretty sure we knew what would happen next, but allow me to narrate:

Honestly, nothing much happened. Chuuya just blushed really hard , and Dazai decided he should definitely flick Chuuya’s forehead like the good love interest boss he definitely was.

Then a screaming match escalated because these two couldn’t live without it. It went something like:

“Chuuya is so close, what to do~ my heart might explode~,” which Dazai immediately followed up with a small: “ uwu. ”

Then Chuuya would repel like a magnet, bouncing off as far as he could. And before he could regret going in the range within the bastard's arm's length again, Chuuya was in front of Dazai, screaming at him.

The result of it was one broken arm (exaggerated by the recipient himself), a few craters, and a still rapidly beating heart.

For the rest of the day, Dazai would continue to bug Chuuya about his definitely broken arm, and Chuuya would continue to be pissed off by Dazai. But it was just the norm.

For now, though, they settled down by the tree again and enjoyed the silence - unlike the awkward one Chuuya experienced earlier.

It went on for a while before Chuuya felt bored out of his life. He glanced at Dazai again, and this time, he wasn’t asleep. Casually, Chuuya repeated his question, “Why are we here?”

Dazai chuckled under his breath. “Why? Is Chuuya not pleased with his boyfriend? Does the date disappoint you?”

Chuuya grumbled, annoyed. “You’re full of bullshit, you bastard. This is a cemetery .” For the last time, they weren’t boyfriends! The bastard just liked to mislead our dear readers, and Chuuya couldn’t defend himself because they definitely wouldn’t believe him! Them and their imaginations, dammit!!

“Seriously though,” Chuuya started again, “why are we here? No, rather, why did you bring me here?”

Dazai hummed, lips pursing into a tight line. It was a fleeting moment; an expression Chuuya barely caught before it was again twisted into a smirk. “This is just a nice place to rest, don’t you think so? Plus, can I not just wish to see Chibi's face?”

Normally, Dazai wouldn’t be described as a bad liar; he never was. But now, even Chuuya could catch the blatant lie Dazai randomly threw at him. First off, Dazai never wished to see his face (apart from making him feel annoyed, and this clearly was the reason. Chuuya started to feel his blood boil). Also, Dazai could rest just fine in his office. He lazed around every day already, anyway. What’s so different today? And second, Chuuya was sure Dazai could’ve come up with a better, more twisted answer with that brain of his. Oh, and let’s not forget his answer was totally unrelated to Chuuya’s question! What was the logic in bringing a person out to a cemetery just to stare at them?! Forgot to mention - Dazai wasn’t even looking at him! (He could not stress enough that this was in a cemetery .)

So clearly, either Chuuya’s attempt at making him stupid - aka whacking Dazai’s brain until he suffered brain damage - worked, or Dazai was too preoccupied to think of a good excuse - which had never happened. Chuuya would like to believe it was the former.

Chuuya decided he would be nice and let Dazai be.

…

Like hell he would!!

“Yeah, sure. If you’re not gonna tell me, then so be it, but that lie sucked.” Chuuya commented casually like they were just discussing the weather.

Dazai snickered, but that smile was gone just as quick as it came. Chuuya looked at him; it wasn’t the first time he’s seen this look on Dazai, but it always ached to see. So he didn’t. Chuuya turned away.

Dazai looked distant; his eye far away, as if he was living in another time, another universe. Perhaps he was looking far into the future, planning, like the scheming bastard he was. But Chuuya wouldn’t know, because Dazai wouldn’t tell him. And it was hilarious when Chuuya thought he’d be the loyal sheepdog Dazai had always asked him to be, just in hopes of lessening his burden. All because Dazai looked like that during times like these .

Chuuya secretly thought to himself that if Dazai would just ask , Chuuya would follow him to the ends of the world.

No , that wasn’t right. Chuuya would follow him to the ends of the world, even if Dazai didn’t ask him. After all, he had sworn his loyalty the day Dazai became the boss; there was nowhere else to go other than Dazai’s side.

No matter how many times that bastard tries to leave him, no matter how far he runs, Chuuya will chase him down. Chase him down, and kill him with these two hands. For just as Chuuya’s life belonged completely to Dazai, so too did Dazai belong to him.

Yet he knew Dazai would never tell him anything, and would never let Chuuya find him if he left.

Was it his incompetence? Chuuya didn’t understand why Dazai wouldn’t let him help. Weren’t they partners? He wanted to wipe that distant look from Dazai’s face with a punch; he’d imagined it multiple times, he really did.

“Chuuya, if you are given two things of equal importance, how will you choose?”

Chuuya pondered for a moment. It was a weird question. Dazai was being weird today - not that he never was. He didn’t know why he said it, but he did anyway: “it really depends on what this ‘thing’ is. Hats and wine are important, but they aren’t things I can’t live without… probably.”

Dazai gave him a questioning look. Chuuya had trailed off. His mind helpfully supplied him with the times when Dazai left him from his dreams, and he felt himself speaking again. Chuuya hadn’t even realised he was speaking, though. Hadn’t realised the dust that went in his eyes, nor the surprise on Dazai’s face.

Dazai composed his face into a smile and stood.

When Chuuya reached out his hand, he was met with another, pulling him up.

~~~

Perhaps it was Chuuya’s fault that their evening proceeded a bit awkwardly. Really, he hadn’t meant to. It wasn’t his fault when Dazai always seemed to trigger something in him that made him lose all his cool.

It was unlucky to have your day full of awkwardness- just imagine. Maybe Chuuya was already used to it, though. But who knows?

They were just about to leave the cemetery when Dazai, as the weirdo he was, knelt down by a flowerbed. And as the loyal sheepdog he was, Chuuya stopped to wait for him. 

Dazai was being secretive - his back hiding what he was doing in front. Chuuya cared little for it, though. He was more focused on getting back to his apartment or his desk so he could finish his missing paperwork, unlike the Mackerel.

Chuuya would deny, with everything he had, that he was staring. He wasn’t , dammit. It was just that… Dazai looked too out of place, surrounded by these colours. His back was almost hunched and distantly, it gave Chuuya the impression of a young man hugging his legs as if that could protect him from the world. It couldn’t.

It looked… strangely vulnerable , dare he say. And for a moment, Dazai looked his age.

It wasn’t every day an executive could see their mafia boss surrounded by pretty flowers, and everything felt so surreal that it was almost laughable.

Everything felt surreal. Even Dazai.

An image of the Dazai from Chuuya’s dream surfaced, and Chuuya couldn’t help but question if his Dazai would leave, too. But that was impossible, because as much as a bastard he was, Dazai wouldn’t leave his mafia boss's responsibilities to Chuuya, right?

Who was he kidding? Dazai was already doing that.

It took everything in Chuuya to contain his urge to reach out and grab blindly.

He didn’t know why he had that urge.

It took approximately 13.6 seconds- *cough* - I mean- a while before Dazai’s legs cramped and forced him to stand up. Weak .

When he turned to look at Chuuya again, he was holding a- flower? Chuuya gave him a look, and Dazai chuckled.

“ Myosotis sylvatica . Ever heard of it?” He strolled leisurely in front of Chuuya, forcing their eyes to meet. His chocolatey eye looked dangerously crimson under the setting sun. Chuuya could almost see his vibrantly blue eyes (that looked more viridian at the moment than blue, but whatever-) reflecting back at him.

Chuuya completely stilled as Dazai brought the flower between them, eye darting from the flower to the other’s eyes. His left eye crinkled, “I knew it. It complements Chuuya’s eyes very well.”

Gentle fingers tucked a lock of hair behind Chuuya’s ears, slipping the flower in.

Having lost count of the times Chuuya had blushed today, he blushed again. It just so happened that Dazai managed to surprise him a lot today too, and oh, look what happened; Chuuya’s eyes widened with surprise.

Dazai let his hand linger by his face for a bit, his face unreadable as he said: “I suppose I don’t despise this expression the Chibi is making.”

When the bastard leaned back (again), Chuuya felt himself still glued to the ground. Even as Dazai raised a brow as a silent question of "what the hell are you waiting for", or the knowing smirk that plastered onto his face seconds later. Chuuya couldn’t move!!

Again, the damned Mackerel’s fault.

(Let’s take a brief commercial break and appreciate the reoccurring moments in this fic, yeah? Yes, yes, this writer shall acknowledge the amount of any sentence that includes the word ‘again’ you may or may not complain about. This one is tempted to blame our beloved idiots for being the idiots we claim them to be - not that it is false. Though, this lowly one would also like to think she is not in denial… or grieving, thank you very much. May the story continue.)

Dazai roughly shoved him a few times before he gained enough consciousness to beat Dazai up…. *sigh* , again.

They bantered as usual, and everything seemed so normal that Chuuya was tempted to believe all the looks Dazai threw at him or his weirdly melancholic behaviour today were all just an illusion. Because, as all logic within that tiny brain of his supplied, Dazai was not someone who would look soft in front of anyone - Chuuya included.

All of a sudden, the flower resting behind his ear felt heavier than it ever should be. A lump of something made itself at home in his throat.

It was hard to ignore the uneasiness that was squirming within his gut. And Chuuya felt like puking.

Dazai went quiet for a while, studying him.

Dazai chuckled.
It sounded bitter.

~~~

Chuuya noted with heaviness in his heart, that this day was the last time he saw Dazai Osamu with bandages on his right eye.

The bastard really thought it was a necessity to take some child under his wing. Was Chuuya not enough? Geez, thank you for making him doubt his capabilities repeatedly.

What ‘White Reaper’?! There was clearly a good enough killing machine in front of you, bastard!

Besides, the kid couldn’t even control his ability! Chuuya was not jealous, dammit!! Why couldn’t the bastard just send the kid to literally any executive - maybe even him !

What did Dazai even see in the kid to have personally trained him…

But this was clearly fine , since Chuuya had his own work to do. Finally , he was free of that bastard’s bullshit.

Oh, this was fine. Chuuya was fine, of course! Why do you ask? He had never been so fine before! In fact, this was the finest he had ever been! It didn’t bother him at all. Goodness, no!

So when Dazai, after weeks of piling work on him (that bastard!!), finally called him to his office, he definitely did not jump out of his chair immediately. No. In fact, Chuuya walked slowly, as if he was taking a stroll after a fulfilling lunch. He totally didn’t storm into Dazai’s office while still trying to catch his breath. Ew, no, that would be embarrassing to watch; Dazai would have too much fun laughing at him.

Luckily, that didn’t happen, because Chuuya wasn’t desperate . No! He immediately adopted professionalism when his eyes landed on a kid standing in front of his boss. It’s him , Chuuya seethed to himself.

Out of the need to protect his boss because of his job description and nothing else, Chuuya strode confidently until he was next to Dazai, at his usual spot. (I swear that one manga panel of Chuuya next to Dazai with his cunning smirk just screams POWER COUPLE-!!)

It had been weeks, and it was clear how after Chuuya was brushed off abruptly, the bastard just stopped taking care of himself (he never did take care of himself, though. It was all just Chuuya nagging him into eating and sleeping). Dark bags hung beneath his eye (they probably wouldn’t look too obvious in the eyes of others, though), hair a little too dishevelled, and - had he gone skinnier?!

Chuuya clicked his tongue, annoyed. The bastard couldn’t live without him.

Somehow, it felt like Dazai was walking to somewhere Chuuya couldn’t reach. He looked so tired, too. Silently, Chuuya wondered where Dazai would go if he would leave him.

An image of Dazai’s back turned against him.

Chuuya felt suffocated.

“Are you done checking me out, Chuuya?” And Chuuya snapped back, turning away before Dazai even finished his sentence. Checking the bastard out? The bastard who so deliberately brushed him off in favour of a brat for weeks ? Hell no. “I want you here today to formally introduce you to Port Mafia’s White Reaper. I’m sure you have heard lots about him.”

He did. He sure did.

“Atsushi hasn’t been here for long. Even though he has achieved quite a lot already, I would appreciate it a lot if Chuuya can bring him on a… work experience. With an actual executive.”

Chuuya concentrated then. It was work hours, work . He shouldn’t be mulling over his boss’s problems when he has things to deal with. It was not in his place to care, to begin with.

So he snuffed the thoughts out of his head and looked at Atsushi. Chuuya didn’t understand. Why him , when Dazai had already taken it upon himself to babysit?

Dazai swept a glance at Chuuya. “Because the Chibi is the brawn in our partnership, so naturally, a fighting ability should be left in Chuuya’s care. Though, I have to make sure Atsushi’s ability is stable before I can hand him off to you, since I'm a good boyfriend.”

Oh-!! Chuuya visibly breathed a sigh of relief. The bastard wasn’t going to train the kid himself. Chuuya still disliked the kid, though. Clearly, because he returned to see his boss so drained , it nearly felt like it was his own fault for not protecting the boss, as his job description said. Though he came to a logical conclusion that it must be the kid- Atsushi's fault.

Wait- Chuuya forgot to deny Dazai was not his boyfriend!! Shut up!

Dazai laughed, and Chuuya scrunched up his nose. Did he speak out loud?

The bastard shook his head - almost fondly . “You’re just easy to read, Chibi.”

As if Dazai had not just put off dealing with Chuuya for weeks , our beloved duo went back to their usual business, bickering! Like children! Because that’s what they were.

Poor Atsushi, who was so gracefully disregarded by the two highest in commands, stood awkwardly still as he pretended the terrifying man that had been… mentoring him for the past few weeks was not acting like a child.

It didn’t take long for the duo to remember they had company, though. Dazai straightened his back and cleared his throat. Chuuya mimicked his actions.

…

Oh, who am I kidding?! Poor kid would’ve probably stood there the entire evening had he not coughed, in Akutagawa-style, to catch their attention. Had I mentioned the two were in their faces again ?! You know, with Chuuya grabbing Dazai’s collar and all that stuff… oh well, that’s an irrelevant detail, anyway.

Dazai flipped his head over. “Oh…” he started, “what can I help you with?” He asked as if he wasn’t the one who made Atsushi stay behind to meet Chuuya.

Chuuya sighed, used to Dazai’s antics, and nudged him roughly, ignoring the overly dramatic wounded puppy noise that was definitely not cute.

Dazai chuckled and had seemingly remembered the purpose of Chuuya’s arrival in the first place. He readjusted his posture on his seat, assuming a familiar devil’s grin which Chuuya hated so dearly. He would so much prefer- actually, he didn’t know what he preferred, but that wasn’t important to the plot.

“Either way, Atsushi, you will be put under executive Nakahara Chuuya from today until further notice, yes?”

Chuuya groaned, dreading the events that might occur in the foreseeable future. He hated that kid.

“And Chuuya, you should handle this. It isn’t a big hindrance to Port Mafia, but it would be a great experience for Atsushi.” Chuuya took the file Dazai handed to him and skimmed. It was just a case of bombing. Nothing new, then.

Chuuya cursed Atsushi for making him handle the supposedly grunts’ work. He hadn’t done any in years; perhaps he could just let his subordinates handle it. What could go wrong?

Dazai looked at him and snickered. Chuuya turned to face him, “what is it this time, you Mackerel?!”

Atsushi lowered his head.

“Atsushi is special,” Dazai muttered right into his ear. “His ability is valuable, but can easily get out of control. So I want you to do the job, not anyone else.”

At this point, Chuuya thought Dazai should just be dubbed the Chuuya-mind reader machine.

Chuuya turned away with a huff as Dazai leaned away contently as if he had achieved something significant.

Dazai dismissed them without another word, and Chuuya could only stare loathingly at him. Dazai had just called him in, but now he was waving him off? Too soon… he thought. If he had wanted more time to memorise the bastard’s features- only because he hadn’t seen the other in weeks- he said nothing. Instead, he grumbled swears under his breath and gestured to Atsushi to follow.

If he had the urge to stay behind to nag Dazai into eating and sleeping again, well, that would be a secret he’s taking to his grave because the last thing the bastard needed to know was that he cared .

Atsushi wore a bitter smile as he stared at the ground. Chuuya didn’t give a fuck for the reason.

~~~

Turns out, Dazai was right. Sure, he knew the Mackerel was always right - as much as that thought left a bitter taste on his tongue. But this-

Chuuya could only watch as Atsushi transformed into an absolute monster , slashing and ripping the throats of these poor terrorists as easily as tearing a piece of paper.

It wasn’t anything new, nor terrifying. Chuuya could do all that too, and he’d go as far as to say he was a million times better than Atsushi at his job. He was also better at controlling the beast in him.

Arahabaki would be a lot more ferocious than this measly cat.

But Chuuya could definitely see where Dazai was coming from when he said the kid had potential. Yes, his control sucked - even Chuuya could see how much of a disaster it would become if Atsushi couldn’t revert back. Though it was good to know that the Port Mafia had such a powerful asset in their arsenal for disposal.

Chuuya was just standing by, letting the kid do all the work. As if he would bother with such a low level mission!! Even though his actual mission was mentoring the kid, Chuuya dared to say he was doing a great job at it.

Never mind, he took it back.

He had only left the kid unmonitored for five seconds. Five seconds !! And all hell broke loose.

Within those five seconds of carelessness, Atsushi had finished slaughtering all enemies and decided that: “Hey! Wouldn’t it be a great idea to kill my superior?! Maybe Dazai would be proud of me! Haha!!”

When Chuuya turned back to inspect the situation, the beast beneath the moonlight lunged towards Chuuya’s squad members, who were standing on the sidelines just in case something happened… oops .

This brought Chuuya on guard in mere seconds, as he decided the best course of action was to first call Dazai before jumping in to protect his subordinates.

On one ring, the bastard picked up, as if expecting his call. “Your kid-”

His hands slipped. His phone flew metres away from him. Then Chuuya heard a hoarse screech, and realised it was actually his own voice.

Damn. His back hurt. It was searingly hot and itchy , but he couldn’t do anything about it because it hurt .

Chuuya chuckled darkly; the kid moved too quickly, it should’ve taken longer to reach him from their distance. Not to mention he had to deal with his other squad members, too.

Speaking of, were they fine? They didn’t get themselves killed, right?

Chuuya cursed, what the fuck were those claws even made of?! Chuuya was used to severe pain, especially because of Arahabaki and the pain that followed using Corruption. But seriously?! It still hurts a lot! And all he wanted was to ensure none of his squad members was hurt too badly- why couldn’t he move?! He wasn’t weak, dammit !!

His muscles twitched. He called Dazai too, so it should be fine. But sure as heck would it be embarrassing for him when Dazai found him lying on the ground, drained after just one slash from a kid .

Chuuya dreaded for the moment Dazai laughed in his face for failing so badly. He had one job, and he failed. Great.

Faintly, he could hear the bangs of the tiger crashing around the warehouse. Then, soon after, hushed footsteps hurried over to his side. Those rhythmic steps were familiar. A weight settled firmly on his back, and a comforting hand landed on his head.
It was gentle.

“Rest.” The voice commanded. It sounded… so distant, so far away.

And the hand stayed on his head as a bright light blinded his vision. Chuuya passed out.

When he woke up again, he was surprised to find Dazai sitting next to him, doing his paperwork for once, on a desk next to his bed. Dazai didn’t laugh at his incompetence, and Chuuya thought he heard him mutter a small “sorry” without facing him. Chuuya registered it as just his imagination because of the anaesthetics in his system.

Atsushi visited him and apologised profusely. Chuuya noticed he was now wearing a collar.

Dazai told him he had been asleep for three days.

Atsushi, as Dazai predicted, had become an important arsenal to the Port Mafia as the infamous ‘White Reaper’. Even Chuuya had less grunt work to do (dealing with enemy organisations, or assassination attempts, et cetera), which he would grudgingly be thankful for. It didn’t lessen the amount of paperwork he had to do, though. And as always, that would be because the bastard, Dazai, refused to do his work.

But perhaps there was a good reason this time. Chuuya saw the way Dazai’s shoulders stiffened subtly whenever Atsushi came over - something Chuuya had no doubt only he saw through. Maybe Atsushi did something wrong? Chuuya made a mental note to punish him for troubling their boss later.

It didn’t make Chuuya feel any better when Dazai told him to get out. It wasn’t the first time, though. Dazai had asked Chuuya, on multiple occasions, to discuss a mission one on one with the person assigned.

He was reluctant to leave, of course. Chuuya wasn’t so heartless as to watch the bastard struggle, even if he thought it was mildly entertaining to watch those shoulders go stiff for a second. Though, he was more hesitant to leave him with Atsushi , in particular; the cause of his concerns (which was why he was so insistent on staying). He knew something was going on between them and Chuuya hated himself for letting the bastard dig a hole for himself to fall in, even if that might’ve already happened.

Chuuya was assigned as Dazai’s right-hand man for a reason, and he wanted to help . But the Mackerel wouldn’t tell him for who knows why, and it’s just- frustrating! He was losing a piece of himself just from thinking about the stuff he could do to help, or share the burden if Dazai would just speak . He dared to say he would go as far as to die for Dazai, and that was how deep his loyalty ran.

If only Dazai would tell him.

Chuuya clenched his fist tightly and scowled; this was clearly different from the other missions if the bastard had to go as far as to flinch when Atsushi knocked on the door. It wasn’t just this once, either, so the bastard couldn’t blame it on muscle reflex or something. Dazai had been acting weird ever since the start of the week, and it was driving Chuuya crazy.

It also did not escape his notice that the bastard Mackerel had been brushing him off more and more recently? Dazai had also been more infuriating than usual - the way he told Chuuya to respect the hierarchy? Or that time when he piled Chuuya with grunt work just to piss him off?

Perhaps it would have been in-character for a Dazai from another world. But in this? Chuuya could tell the bastard was hiding something, plotting.

While it wasn’t weird for the bastard to be plotting - that was all he could do anyway, there was just this… nagging feeling that was tucking at Chuuya. It was like a warning. For what , exactly - he didn’t know, but he knew it was there.

It screamed in his ear and gnawed at his throat; if his head was spinning from hurt before, then it was getting numb from it now.

Chuuya could tell, he wasn’t dumb nor oblivious. Sure, perhaps he wasn’t as cunning or scheming as Dazai, but he landed himself on the second in command for a reason. Besides, as much as he would beg to differ, he was probably one of the very few people alive that knew Dazai better. Perhaps he was even the only one who knew Dazai for who he was anymore; Chuuya wouldn’t know, and that’s how much he knew about the bastard. Pretty conflicting, but that’s how life was - full of contradictions.

The moment Dazai changed, it was obvious. At least to Chuuya.

Imagine his surprise, when one day four years ago, Dazai woke up one day and decided to wrap bandages around his left eye instead, and started to distance himself from Chuuya.

Yes, Chuuya was aware of them all, he was not an idiot. He saw the way Dazai’s eye dimmed significantly one day, the way Dazai seemed to be trapped in a trance constantly, and the way Dazai seemed to have turned his back on him.

The way their ‘date’ felt like a goodbye.

Oh, how could Chuuya forget? That was the last time Dazai was so close to him, so vulnerable . And Chuuya ached .

It was four years ago, yet Chuuya retained a delusion that Dazai would not dare abandon him. Yet the way Dazai’s attitude changed abruptly ever since ‘that day’ indicated to Chuuya that the ‘end’ had been brewing for the past four years, and he hated that.

Chuuya was frustrated. He didn’t know anything, he wasn’t told anything.

Chuuya slammed open his office and tried to make himself comfortable in his seat, but all he saw was a retreating back, walking towards darkness. It was getting further and further away - out of reach.

Chuuya raised an arm. He was met with air.

Chuuya was sent on a mission. Apparently, it was an important one, even though it didn’t feel like it was. The grunts could’ve handled it just fine, but this was probably just another way Dazai discovered to irritate him.

The entire experience was just boring . He could’ve used this time to catch up with the paperwork Dazai had been sending a lot more recently (don’t worry, Dazai wasn’t overworking him. He was given an extended due, but still…).

Actually, Dazai had been sending him a lot of paperwork this week; a lot more than usual. There was already a mountain load of them - mainly because he had to do some of Dazai’s as well - but now his office was stuffed full of it. There was practically no walking space, and any subordinates who were supposed to report to him were reduced to a mere phone call - all because there wasn’t a standing spot in his office!!

Okay, well, that was an overstatement… but it just seemed like whenever Chuuya was about to finish a pile, new stacks would come in. That damned Mackerel!!

There was a loud, desperate yelp from somewhere to his left, and Chuuya was reminded he was on a mission. He snapped out of his daydream (comprising whacking Dazai’s brain, damaging it even further) and rushed towards the voice. He stilled, sparing a glance at the body.

A woman on the ground, blood trickling out from her neck. Her eyes were in tears, but it was glazed over. She was pretty - so pretty that if not for her bleeding wound or her head skewed to the side, she would look like a doll straight out from the eighties - with that clouded stare. Chuuya needed not to crouch and examine; it was obvious enough. She was dead, without a doubt.

But that wasn’t what caught his attention. No.

There was another person in front of him when he arrived, who was quickly retreating. Chuuya wasted no time chasing. Perhaps it was just him, but the shadow of the man looked strangely familiar. Was it because of the clothes? The figure? Chuuya didn’t know; he needed a closer look.

It took a bit for Chuuya to pin him down. Time he could’ve used to complete his paperwork, or annoy Dazai. The man was fast and agile, Chuuya would give him that, since he had almost lost him several times. Alas, he wasn’t an opponent to our mighty Lord Chuuya. ( *cough* )

Despite the vulnerable position the man was in, however, he laughed. It sounded far too bitter to Chuuya’s liking - it made him feel like catching the man was a loss instead of a win. Like catching the man was all in a part of a plan that was much larger, much sinister. It was like Chuuya wasn’t meant to be catching the man.

It felt like a failure - this mission. Even as he handed the man off to his squad members, even as he held the dead woman in his arms, bringing her to a much more suitable burial ground.

When he arrived back at Port Mafia, the entire place was in an uproar. It quickly calmed down when they saw Chuuya, though. And as if rehearsed, they all fell on a knee in respect. With Atsushi leading the act, they called in unison: “Boss.”

And that’s when it hit him. That man he apprehended - he was seen with Dazai a few times. From Chuuya abruptly barging in his office once (because he couldn’t stand sitting in his office for hours on no end), to seeing them walk side by side in the hallways.

Chuuya felt his entire body stiffened. There were whispers all around him, but all he heard was Atsushi’s nonchalant: “He’s dead.”

He’s dead.

Naturally, Chuuya didn’t believe it. The bastard was probably just sitting in his office, no doubt waiting for Chuuya slamming his office’s door open, ready to be screamed at. So of course that was what Chuuya did. He grudgingly stomped his way to the highest level - without stopping to knock on it, he entered.

Chuuya was faced with silence. No Mackerel bastard, no nothing. Just silence.

Okay, well, he was probably hiding elsewhere, then. He couldn’t believe this - a man over his twenties playing hide and seek!! And Chuuya was indulging in his childishness!! He couldn't believe this!! Dazai was definitely going to make fun of him later when he found him.

Chuuya wasn’t panicking - goodness, no! What would Dazai think of him- or anyone, for that matter, when they realised Chuuya was scared of losing him? No way! He wasn’t scared of losing the bastard! In fact, he couldn’t wait for the day he died! In his hands though, of course. Chuuya hated Dazai the most in the world, and if someone else got to him first, he’d be pissed . There was no telling what he’d do to the person! At all!!

Dazai wouldn’t die. Not until Chuuya got to him first. That, he was sure of.

So he swept through the entire building, but the Mackerel was nowhere to be seen. Chuuya was tempted to use his ability to lift the entire building, shaking it, until the bastard screamed for his mercy. He didn’t do that, though. He was still tempted, no less.

Chuuya was about to threaten every single person in vicinity to spill wherever the hell, but was abruptly snapped out of his haze when Atsushi cleared his throat from behind. He turned around so quickly, as if expecting the Mackerel bastard would be standing there, waiting to snicker at his reaction again.

He didn’t.

Wait- no. I mean- Dazai was there, yes, but he wasn’t laughing.

Atsushi, bless him, was holding the boss- *cough* - ex -boss now, apparently, in his arms. Skin deathly pale; the bags beneath his eyes looked all the more visible.

But it was makeup- it has to be. It certainly sounded like something the bastard would do. Though, going such length just to get him pissed- was it worth it? Yes, maybe. It worked, after all; Chuuya was pissed, so pissed. Nonetheless, it still gave him a heart attack- sort of, so it was only natural the bastard apologised to him.

Chuuya was nice enough to be appreciative of the fact Dazai went through so much trouble just to prank him, so the bastard should just wake up now and suck up whatever kicks and punches Chuuya was going to throw at him.

It irked him to see Dazai’s limp form dangling from Atsushi’s arms (what a great actor), so Chuuya decided that: “fuck it, he deserved it, anyway” - and grabbed him roughly by his collar, shaking him a few times as he yelled “wake the fuck up, you bastard!!” in his face.

There was absolutely no reason for the rest of the mafia to look at him so sympathetically (they weren’t supposed to be sympathetic, but their blood wasn’t mafia black like Dazai’s, so it was understandable). Especially not when he would wake up after just a few of Chuuya’s nagging - that, he was sure of.

So Chuuya brushed them off and clicked his tongue annoyingly when Dazai still refused to wake up. Even as blood stained his gloves; even as he gained no reaction after who knows how long it had been since sliding to the floor, with Dazai in his arms.

Oh damn, Chuuya was hugging the life out of the bastard, wasn’t he? If he wasn’t already playing dead, then he’d certainly be dead this time, because Chuuya just had that tight of a hold on him.

No mafiosos were allowed within five metres of his radius. He would glare, then kill whoever dared to cross the line.

Atsushi must’ve had enough of this pitiful sight because he was speaking before he knew it. Oh, he was definitely scared shitless- he was interrupting Chuuya , of all people!!

“Dazai-san… is dead. He jumped right in front of me and Akutagawa-”

Before he knew it, he was grabbed by his throat, so tightly it nearly snapped. Atsushi suppressed his fear, schooling his expression.

Chuuya had never taken a glance off from Dazai. His head had been hanging low since Atsushi handed him over, so now that he had Chuuya’s attention on him… wow . Atsushi didn’t know someone from so high up in the mafia was capable of making such an expression. There was so much rage . More than he had ever seen on his superior.

Atsushi gulped. Chuuya growled lowly; so low, he almost couldn’t hear it. And Chuuya’s grip tightened.

“So you’re saying…” He started slowly, like he was in disbelief and was trying to find his words. “That you let the boss jump while you and our enemy sit back to watch?”

Well- in Atsushi’s defence, it was a spur of the moment thing! How was he supposed to react when Dazai just jumped-

Chuuya promptly let go and shifted back to his position beside Dazai. Finally, doing the logical thing he was supposed to do, possibly minutes- or even hours ago, he took in Dazai’s pulse.

If Atsushi was expecting anything, he would say it would be an earthquake, a crater on their already destroyed floor- or just anything destructive. So clearly, he was taken aback (an understatement), when Chuuya stood up, carrying Dazai in his arms, and laughed. It wasn’t strained.

Chuuya retreated to who knows where. He left the building before anyone could hold him back.

Atsushi felt like he shouldn’t comment on it, but at that moment, Chuuya’s entire being was like a wilted flower. Dried of life. A flower could only thrive in its bountiful beauty when their roots anchored them to the ground, after all.

~~~

“This is just a nice place to rest, don’t you think so?”

Chuuya chuckled at the memory. Indeed, it was a nice place to rest - he meant that literally as he stared at the body next to him.

On that tiny slope, they fooled around years ago, below the tree. It calmed him, remembering the times they spent together before Dazai felt so distant.

Chuuya hated reminiscing about the past, which was why he wanted to leave the place so soon. If it brought you unpleasant experiences, why bother thinking about it? It would just make you more miserable than you already were.

Humans just loved to contradict themselves, and Chuuya just happened to be one of them. He stayed behind, either way, watching the figure that laid beside him. It was strangely familiar in its own way. Again, he couldn’t be helped but to reminisce.

He thought about Dazai’s smile, his chocolatey eyes that stared right back at him when they were so close to each other. So close he could feel the breath on his cheeks. It warmed his heart, in some way, when the younger looked at him in that weird, fond way that made him feel all giddy and warm. It wasn’t fair.

It wasn’t fair at all.

Dust went in his eyes. It was funny, how the last time he felt his eyes sting was at the same place, in this cemetery, with the same company. Almost ironic.

Deja vu hit him like a truck. That nagging feeling of Dazai leaving him, one that he hoped he would never feel, despite having a taste in his dreams before. It broke him, how he realised Dazai would always, always , abandon him. No matter the universe.

Laughable. The person who claimed himself to be the loneliest, the one who wanted to die most had more people caring for him than one that was surrounded by people all the time.

Remember that time when Chuuya thought he dreamt? It was starting to feel more real than anything else. He could only pity himself, even in a dream, that he couldn’t seem to reach Dazai. No matter how close Chuuya thought they’ve got, another obstacle would pop up - there was just this wall between them, always.

Perhaps this was just how things were meant to be; Dazai leaving the mafia, leaving him.

Oh- wait. Maybe… maybe this was a dream too! Maybe the next second Chuuya would wake up to the bastard’s obnoxious laugh. But Chuuya would take it. He’d take anything he could get if it just meant he didn’t feel this . Whatever this was.

After all, in his dreams, Dazai would always abandon him. So this, whatever this is, must also be a dream.

Were all dreams sup posed to be this lucid? The pain in his chest felt far too real, after all. Maybe it wasn’t a dream, then. It wasn’t a good habit to cling on to false hope now, was it?

Emotions were complex, and Chuuya hated them just as much as he hated Dazai. They were unnecessary and difficult to understand, so he found himself turning towards what was easy to comprehend; hatred and rage. This, he knew. This was within his comfort zone.

He wanted to wake up, goddammit. But that wouldn’t happen anytime soon, he knew.

Dammit…

Chuuya hated Dazai more than anything in the world, and that’s how things were meant to be, no? After all, Dazai was a person born with the purpose to screw his life up, so it was only normal. There were no words to express the rage in his blood.

How dare he sleep at times like these… he swore- he’d kill the bastard the moment he woke up. Chuuya found himself feeling the familiar hatred towards the bastard that is Dazai Osamu.

Hate, hate, hate, and hate. So much hate. So, so much hate that his heart couldn’t contain.

“Chuuya, if you are given two things of equal importance, how will you choose?”

It physically pained him to remember that voice, dripping with honey - only for him .

Still, how dare that bastard leave him with all these responsibilities he never asked for?! Chuuya wanted no more than to scream in his face, whack him in the head, or just - nag him into eating and sleeping. Like nothing was wrong, and everything was fine .

“Hats and wine are important, but they aren’t things I can’t live without… probably.”

He could still remember the eyes that stared at him as if they could see through his soul; the blue flower that later on wilted, but still kept in his drawer.

And that warm hand resting on his cheeks. Everything was warm, and for a moment, he couldn’t help but live in the fantasy that could no longer exist.

Chuuya laughed. He laughed so hard his stomach ached. There was something about this that was just so funny !! Oh - he got it. Those tears that pricked his eyes? They were laughing too hard! It made sense now. He would never cry over a bastard that made his life miserable, after all.

Overcome with indescribable joy that almost stabbed his heart, he seethed quietly, voice choked on something in his throat. He stared at the sleeping figure of Dazai next to him, and he remembered when Dazai smirked, opening his eyes to Chuuya’s blue ones.

“Hypothetically speaking. Just hypothetically… if there is someone, anyone, that I find to be extremely important, I want to hold onto them… with these two hands.”

He couldn’t laugh now, not when it ached to move even a muscle on his face. So he stared blankly, as if staring enough could make Dazai realise he’s fucked up and apologise. He wouldn’t , but it was the thought that counts.

Only now did Chuuya manage to look at Dazai in detail. He looked peaceful… almost. It didn’t look free or relieved, even though he had always wanted to die and had succeeded in doing so this time. He’s seen Dazai vulnerable before, so he would know.

To see him distressed even when sleeping… made him think if he hadn’t done enough. But who was he kidding? Of course, he didn’t do enough. If he did, maybe Dazai wouldn’t be sleeping at all. Maybe he would be up next to him right now, staring into his eyes, breath so close they mingled together… just maybe, though.

This look Dazai had… it almost seemed like he had some unfinished business. But… somewhere deep in Chuuya thought: it wasn’t a bad look on him, because it meant something. Something Chuuya wouldn’t know, though. Dazai had taken this secret to the grave with him, left without even bidding farewell to him.

Chuuya gritted his teeth, clutching his chest like they were on flames. Everything started bleeding, and there was no stopping it.

“I think I’d rather die.”

Chuuya laughed.
It sounded broken.

Alas I wish to die;
alas I wish to live;
alas I, over every extinguished past,
let tears gush out.
Out of the sky
the wind blows.