Archive of Our Own

The man was beautiful.

His brown irises were visible for a feeble second before he closed his eyelids over them, the long dark eyelashes carefully touching his cheekbones. He had a timid smile on his lips, seeming at peace, as if at last.. . His dark brown hair gently framed his face, the wavy strands being swayed by the strong wind of where he was standing.

His neck was wrapped in bandages, just as his arms were. His sand-colored trench coat covered most of his body, even unbelted, and on his chest a turquoise pendant reflected some of the night lights.

It would be hard to say for sure where he had come from and what had him stand on the ledge of that building; but it was easy to tell where he’d go from there.

As his slim frame slipped in slow motion from where he was previously standing, his body starting to descend at fast speed towards the floor, most certainly it was a death that awaited him.

Chuuya blinked his eyes open, facing his ceiling. The sound of a distant siren echoed in his bedroom walls, some dogs barked in response to the sudden noise in the usually quiet neighborhood. Some time was needed for his vision to adjust to the darkness, as he slowly blinked and thought about why he was awake.

He was used to dreams. Before, he didn’t have them at all. It was only after his 16th birthday he somehow started dreaming and remembering a few of them, little by little, until it reached what was probably “normal”. At first, it was something huge to him, to dream, but now, years later, it wasn’t anything surprising.

He had plenty of them, and, in case he remembered a couple of them, he usually woke up the following morning wondering why the hell his subconscious would create such random occurrences during his sleep, like talking animals or endless swimming pools. He was used to dreaming about acquaintances of his, about weird and unnatural things, like he supposed everyone else did. 

That’s why it felt weird to be staring at his ceiling after that dream. Somehow, that one felt different .

Chuuya couldn’t exactly point out why. He had had lucid dreams before, and as much as this one seemed like one of those, it wasn’t quite right. Maybe it was because he was certain he had never met the man before. Or maybe it was the fact that the man was about to die in his dream. How morbid was that, dreaming about someone else’s death?

He rolled to his side, frowning. He remembered people saying that when one dies in their dream, they wake up in real life. But he never heard of someone dreaming of someone else’s death as if they were watching it, and then waking up alarmed. The scene unrolled before his eyes like a short clip, the city lights glowing behind the tall man as the wind lashed on his hair and clothes. The busy street below him when he started falling, the building taller than any other around the block, the Christmas lights that decorated the lively street waiting to embrace his final moments…

With a shudder, Chuuya sat up in bed. It’s not like it was real, as weird as it felt; they were still a couple of weeks away from putting Christmas lights up in the city anyway. Although the faint smile in the man’s beautiful face took a long time to vanish from his mind, Chuuya regarded the dream as it was: a dream, and nothing more.

Turning back to his pillow and sheets, he let his mind wander until he fell asleep again, pushing the discomfort of that weirdly realistic dream to the back of his mind.

— Take care, Elise-chan — Chuuya waved to the girl, tons of shopping bags surrounding her and her large smile on the backseat of the luxury car Mori-san had sent to pick her up. It was late already, all the Christmas lights sparkling around town and keeping the streets lively.

Chuuya felt the exhaustion hit him right as soon as the car departed. He had taken the girl to do some Christmas shopping and sightseeing, at his boss’ request. There was no way he could have refused, despite being busy. One just did not simply say “no” to whatever Mori-san asked, mostly if it involved Elise.

So after walking for hours, eating lots of cake, and buying a mountain of presents on Mori-san’s card (all of them for herself), they finished their day at one of the busiest streets in the city, the most decorated one, full of tall buildings and lively chatter. Elise’s eyes were sparkling just like the decorative lights, and Chuuya didn’t mind the outing as much as he had before seeing how happy she was. 

He was glad he didn’t have to take her home, though. He was more than done for the day, not even wanting to linger around there much longer as it was very cold. Turning his back to the cars, he started making his way to the taxi stop. 

He had barely taken two steps before he came to a sudden realization.

The sight of the street made him shudder, the memory of a bandaged man falling from a building flashing in his mind. Why had it come back to him now out of all times? He looked around, thinking it was indeed very similar to his dream. A couple of weeks ago the Christmas lights weren’t up so he hadn’t thought it would be this street, but being there made it all the more realistic. It was weird he had been able to dream about a place he had never been before. 

He sighed, brushing his hand through his hair. The tip of his nose was freezing and he didn’t want to spend more time standing there in the cold night. Similar or not, the dream was just a dream, so it was not like he should worry about anything.

Chuuya resumed walking, side glancing at the tallest building in the street as he made his way past its entrance. It was a bit crowded with workers leaving their offices, lots of scarves, gloves and heavy overcoats, but all of them black or dark blue. He wasn’t sure why he felt relieved at the sight.

“Oop, watch out!” he heard before bumping into someone. Chuuya blinked in surprise, he hadn’t noticed how distracted he had been while staring at the building.

“Ah! Sor—“ he raised his eyes to look at the tall person in front of him, intending to apologize, but the words didn’t fully come out of his lips.

The first thing he noticed was the sand-colored trench coat keeping the man warm. His round brown eyes were staring at Chuuya and he kept a thin smile on his lips. Despite being well covered due to the cold, Chuuya could notice some bandages around his neck and wrists.

He felt a chill run down his spine.

“Be careful, chibi!” the man said in a light tone, smirking a bit and waving to him as he resumed his way. Chuuya was so astonished he didn’t even get mad at being called chibi.

He kept watching the man’s back as he skillfully avoided the exiting group of workers and entered the building Chuuya had been looking at. Chuuya wasn’t even cold anymore, his mind racing and a lump in his throat.

It—It couldn’t be, right?

There’s no way Chuuya was a clairvoyant. It had never happened before, why would it now? But if it was the case that he had had a dream about this very moment… could he just walk home and pretend he knew nothing? Would he be able to live with it? What if he checked the news the next morning to face the man’s portrait and a headline?

“Shit!” he cussed, following the steps of the taller man.

Chuuya managed to infiltrate the building without being noticed. He had lost sight of the bandaged man when he had passed through the crowd, but all he needed to do was check if his dream had been premonitory or not. There was only one floor he should go to.

Fearing it would take too long to wait for an elevator since the man had already disappeared from the lobby a while ago, and it would also risk exposing his presence in a place he wasn’t authorized to be, Chuuya took the stairs and believed in his stamina, even though the building had many floors. Keeping a steady but fast rhythm, he reached the roof floor a little out of breath and with sweat covering his face.

He was trying not to think too much about it. His mind was set on opening the rooftop’s door, taking a look around, seeing there wasn’t anyone there, nor a commotion on the ground, giving it a good laugh and blaming it on stress before making it back home to a well-deserved good night of sleep. That was what was going to happen, wasn’t it? Chuuya was really using all of his mental power wishing for that.

But as soon as he opened the rooftop’s door, all of his positive thoughts collapsed. The bandaged man was there, in front of him, a good five or six feet away. He looked like he was ready to jump and another chill ran down Chuuya’s spine.

“Oi! What are you doing!” harsh words escaped his mind before he could think what was the appropriate approach to a suicidal person on the brick of jumping. He stepped closer to the man carefully, raising his arms. What should he say?

The man heard him. He turned around and faced Chuuya, a mysterious expression on his face. Chuuya was taken a little aback by the lack of feelings his eyes expressed. It wasn’t as if he were desperate, or crying, or seeming insane. They were empty eyes, just blankly staring at him.

What should Chuuya say in a moment like this, to a person like this?

Before his brain could wrap up around the situation, the bandaged man’s expression finally changed upon crossing eyes with Chuuya’s. A timid smile spread on his lips and the shorter man felt his limbs freeze.

It was just like his dream. Just like it. The strong wind swayed his hair and clothes, his eyes started closing. He was going to fall, at any moment now. Chuuya was 100% sure of it.

That was probably the fastest he’s ever moved his whole life. For someone who had been frozen in shock watching the scene unfold before his eyes, to cross the distance between him and the man who had just started falling on his back from the top of the building was a great feature.

His fingers wrapped around one of the man’s bandaged wrists and stopped him from falling mid-air, his feet still on the ledge, not having completely slipped from the building as he did in Chuuya’s dream.

But Chuuya still needed to pull him back. Just stopping him wasn’t enough; the strong wind and the man’s weight, although much lighter than Chuuya had expected it to be, could still take both of them down. So, gathering as much strength as his small body could take, letting a cry out of his throat, Chuuya dug his heels on the ground and leaned back, pulling both of them back to the safety of the rooftop’s floor.

Huffing loudly as he laid his back on the hard floor, Chuuya stared at the cold night’s starry sky and watched his breath become little clouds in front of his face.

“You…” he tried to say something but stopped. His heart was racing from the adrenaline rush and his mind was in chaos as he tried to think how he would explain to the suicidal man what had just happened. Usually one would talk someone out of jumping, wouldn’t they? Even more, no one would just randomly show up at the top of a building after bumping into a stranger in the middle of the street. Oh sorry sir, we’ve bumped before and I’ve sensed some suicidal energy from you so I came here to check , as if he could even say something like that.

Chuuya was scared of how the man would react, but he definitely did not expect to hear a loud tch coming out of his mouth.

Astonished, he turned his face to look at the man who was sitting with his long legs sprawled on the floor and crossed arms. The man looked annoyed.

“Aah, why did chibi have to come and stop me?” he whined, but somehow he didn’t sound serious. It was like he was mocking Chuuya.

“Sorry?”

“And it was such a perfect night for a suicide, really. Now Kunikida-kun’s going to get mad at me because I ditched work, and I don’t even have a good excuse for it,” the man kept talking as he uncrossed his arms and stood up to his feet. Chuuya was still on the floor, frowning at him and trying to grasp what the hell was going on.

The way the bandaged man now stood way taller than him and looked down on him (apparently in many ways) made him incredibly annoyed so he also jumped to his feet, clenching his teeth.

“Excuse me? You were about to fall here, you know?” he said, trying not to raise his voice. He knew one should treat a suicidal person with care and help them as much as possible, or maybe call the police to deal with them, but all of this slipped his mind as the man didn’t look one tiny bit worried about what had just happened. It felt like the man was just joking around and that pissed Chuuya off.

All he got back was a blank stare and a shrug.

“Well, sorry for fucking bothering you then, you stinky noodle man,” Chuuya spit the words, cleaning his dirty clothes a bit before putting his hands in his jacket’s pocket and clenching his fists. He scowled at the man and started making his way back to the door, “Better luck next time, I won’t be there to help you anyway.”

“I gotta admit that for a slug you were pretty fast there, chibi.”

“Who the fuck is a slug!”

As he slammed the door behind him after shouting back, he thought his mind must be deceiving him because it was almost as if he had heard a laughter coming from the windy rooftop.

Chuuya was exhausted by the time he unlocked his front door. All he wanted was a hot bath and to fall into his bed for a dreamless night. He was so very done with dreams.

Even though things had taken a twisted turn earlier, they somehow ended up well, but he couldn’t shake off the weird feeling he had ever since he left the building.

The dream he had had that night, weeks ago, actually came true in real life. It would be just the same, the setting, the date, the person. The only difference was Chuuya being there; not as a spectator, as he had been in the dream, but as a performer, interfering with the situation and creating a different scenario from the one he had watched. 

Since he saved a life, was the dream really a sign for him to be there and do something? The fact he remembered the details so clearly, was able to be in the exact place so accurately, was it all meant to be?

But then, what would be his connection to the bandaged man? Why dream of him now, out of all times?

He sat on his bed and let his back hit the soft mattress, staring at the ceiling. It was no use trying to come up with answers. His head started hurting because he didn’t understand anything at all that had happened that night. That, and dealing with the man had been stressful enough.

All that mattered was that it was over; Chuuya hoped he would never dream about him again, and that such premonitory gift wouldn’t be bestowed upon him again any time soon.

Oh, how he hoped for it.

The park was white. All covered in gentle snow, the sound of chatter reached Chuuya’s ears and he could see some people playing around and enjoying a late afternoon date there. It was a popular park in Yokohama, but not so big or even considered a tourist spot. It was more suited for local people who wanted a bit of fresh air. The main attraction of it was a big lake in the middle, that when frozen could be used for ice skating. Yearly, though, experts had to examine the lake and give their approval for it to be safely used as so, considering the temperatures had to be adequate and the ice cover on it had to be hard enough to allow people on it.

Chuuya walked around the lake watching the sunset dye the white snow with bright and warm colors, despite it getting colder and colder as night approached. He sighted the small pier on the lake where, during summer, people could go on small boat rides. Watching it carefully as he came closer to it, he noticed someone was sitting on the end of the pier and stopped walking. Squinting, he managed to see messy brownish hair.

The man stood up over the ice, wearing ice skates, his tall silhouette clumsily departing from the safety offered by the pier. Just as Chuuya noticed a warning sign that said the lake’s ice wasn’t adequate yet for ice skating and other activities, he also recognized the sand-colored trench coat as the man made his way over the ice, swiftly skating with his hands on his pockets.

Chuuya’s intuition was rarely wrong. And right now, it was telling him the scene unveiling in front of his eyes meant trouble .

“Oi! Stupid noodle man! Do you want to become a fish or something?” he yelled, running over the pier’s wooden floor.

The man seemed to hear him and turned around, looking at him and immediately making a disgusted face.

“Ugh, why is the stupid slug here?” he sighed, but started making his way back. “Why would I even be skating if I wanted to become a fish? Are you dumb?”

“Right back at you, stinky mackerel.” Chuuya clenched his jaw and waved so he could come back faster. “Didn’t you see the warning saying it’s dangerous to skate right now? Can you even read?”

The bandaged man was close now, if he moved a little closer and raised his arm, and Chuuya did the same, they could hold hands.

Not that Chuuya was even thinking about holding those stinky hands.

“Of course I can, I’m not like a stup—“

Just a little closer. If he had moved just a little closer and had raised his arm…

But he didn’t.

The ice under his skates gave in with a nasty crack sound, and the man’s sentence was interrupted by his surprised expression, his round eyes turning wide, a shade of shock and fear crossing his brown irises.

Chuuya had his arms raised, trying to reach a man who was still too far from him. Trying to reach a man who was suddenly swallowed by the hole in the frozen lake, and never made his way back to the surface.

Chuuya was covered in a cold sweat. His heart was racing and his teeth chattered even though he was safe and warm under his sheets. He quickly sat on his bed and took deep breaths, trying to calm himself down.

Not again .

It couldn’t be. Maybe he was just affected because of last night’s events. After meeting the bandaged man, his mind had decided to play tricks and have him dream about him again.

A freaking realistic dream like that. A dream that once again ended up with the man’s death.

Chuuya felt even more tired than when he had gone to bed. His mind was racing trying to come up with excuses that meant it had all been nothing but a dream, but he knew it wasn’t. It was the same as last time, meaning it would happen eventually, just like yesterday did.

He jumped out of bed and started pacing. He was too anxious to lay in bed and think things through.

He had no idea when the dream would come true; unlike the last time that he realized due to the Christmas lights, there was nothing about the park and the situation that could give away a date. He only knew it was close to sundown and during a day that snow piled up a lot since the park was pretty much covered in it. Recently it had been getting colder and colder, but it hadn’t snowed yet. So maybe he still had a few days.

The first dream had taken some weeks to happen, although Chuuya had no idea at that time. But maybe now, after he had met the bandaged man, things would move faster?

He sighed, exhausted. Why was he even bothering that much? Didn’t he say he wouldn’t save him another time? Hadn’t his intervention been a bother to the suicidal asshole?

Still, Chuuya hesitated. The sight of the man’s rounded brown eyes, wide open in surprise, haunted him. It wasn’t suicide this time. He wasn’t planning to die.

Maybe there wasn’t much he could do to avoid it, really. Maybe it was bound to happen. But Chuuya wouldn’t forgive himself. He wouldn’t allow it to happen and would stop it at all costs, because it didn’t sit right with him. He did not want to risk letting the man die in an accident that could have been prevented by someone who knew of it.

Looking back to his wrinkled sheets and inviting bed, Chuuya felt the exhaustion reach his bones. He really hoped this would be the last time such a thing happened, otherwise he’d never have a peaceful night of sleep again.

“Boss, I’m sorry, but I’ll be leaving early again. I’ll make sure to clock in early tomorrow morning,” Chuuya announced, grabbing his things and getting ready to leave. He glanced a little nervously at the sun approaching the West and at the white snow that covered the streets.

“Chuuya-kun,” Mori-san called, looking at his employee, making him stop in place and look back.

“Yes, Boss?”

“You know you are one of my most outstanding employees, so I haven’t questioned anything when you expressed your desire to leave early for these past days. I do get curious, however, and wonder if something is going on,” Mori-san said, his usually cold tone warming up a little. His stare wasn’t piercing nor threatening, but it still made a chill run down Chuuya’s spine. “Is there anything I could offer to assist you at this time?”

Maybe some sleeping drugs so I never have dreams again , Chuuya thought for a millisecond before denying it with his head.

“I appreciate the offer, Boss, but right now there is nothing. I am thankful for your trust and patience, but hopefully, these issues will be settled soon and I won’t need to clock out early anymore. I’ll make sure my performance and our company’s results are not affected by these personal affairs.” Chuuya put it simply, hating to call it “personal affairs” when all he had been doing was going to the snowy park every evening to wait for a suicidal bandaged mackerel who couldn’t fucking read warning signs.

What was Chuuya even doing with his life, really?

“I see. I’ll have it that everything’s under control, then. But do let me know in case things take a different turn,” Mori-san said, calmly, slightly smiling. Chuuya agreed and respectfully bowed before leaving the room.

He was a little later than usual today. The first heavy snow of the year had been three days ago, and then he asked Mori-san to leave early, rushing to the park. There was no sight of the bastard there, though. Every day since then he had been leaving early in hopes that it would be over soon and he could finally have some peace. He was lucky that Mori-san trusted him that much and didn’t question, but he couldn't keep doing this every day. Having to wake up earlier to make sure to compensate for the day before was also taking a toll on him; it was the most exhausted he had been his whole life, thanks to that stupid bandaged man.

He made it to the park, huffing a bit from the fast pace he had walked until there. The sun had started to set earlier that day, most of the snowy paths being already tinged with slightly pale orange. Despite being a weekday, it was quite full of people, more than the past three days.

Chuuya followed almost instinctively the path that took him to the lake, a little absent-minded while he looked around.

Suddenly, the sound of chatter and laughter was familiar, just as the sight in front of him. The weird deja vu made him shudder and he froze in place for a whole second before realizing why he was having a deja vu.

Dashing, Chuuya approached the wooden pier, his eyes furiously looking for the lanky figure that would be sitting at the end of it. There wasn't anyone there, but a tall man was already mid-way into the lake’s ice, the ice skates swiftly taking him away.

“OI, STUPID MACKEREL,” Chuuya yelled, carefully stepping down on the ice surface that covered the dangerously freezing water under him. He didn’t plan on ice skating with his work shoes on, but in his dream, he had stood safely on the pier, unable to reach the man and save him. This time, he’d be on the same level as him, and hopefully, both of them would make it.

No, not ‘hopefully’. They would make it. Chuuya definitely wouldn’t do a double suicide with that bandaged bastard, so he’d take them both out of there alive, even if out of spite.

“Oh, isn’t it the slug again? What are you doing here?” the bastard started sliding back near the pier upon hearing his voice.

“Saving your stinky ass,” Chuuya muttered, not loud enough to be heard though. “I was just taking a stroll on the park but then I saw a stupid asshole who can’t fucking read warning signs,” he said, louder and waving so the man would come faster. Somewhere, he heard the ice cracking and gulped. “Come faster, the ice is breaking!”

“Eeh… but it was such a nice day to ice skate though,” waving his ridiculously long bandaged arms in a weird way, the man didn’t stop approaching Chuuya despite how much he seemed against it.

“You can ice skate in a proper place later,” Chuuya nagged, sweat covering his hands in anticipation. The man was almost close enough now. He wouldn’t let him go. Definitely. He was within his reach. Everything would be ok.

Just as the man was a few steps away from him, the ice-cracking sound became louder. Both of them widened their eyes looking at the path behind him open in a huge crack, ready to reach and engulf them both.

“Fuck, let’s go!” Chuuya yelled while grabbing the man’s hand and pulling himself back so they could make it back to the side of the wooden pier. His shoes definitely weren’t appropriate for it, and he felt his socks getting wet as the freezing water reached for him in its attempt to bring him to the depths of the lake.

Chuuya was faster though. Since the man he was holding by the hand had skates on, he managed to pull and propel him to slide closer to the safe pier and jumped, safely landing on the wooden structure. The nasty cracking sound kept going on for a few more seconds, more and more of the lake’s frozen cover being divided into smaller pieces. They both watched it in awe, knowing that they barely made it.

When everything went quiet again, Chuuya finally relaxed and let his body drop on the pier’s floor. It was over. Finally.

A subtle whistling came from his side. He stared angrily at the man who now untied his stupid skates, ready to throw hands at him if he once again showed himself ungrateful for having his ass saved.

“Isn’t chibi too strong for his size? What do you even eat, huh?” He teased, raising one of his eyebrows.

“Shut up. I’m impressed your weight managed to break the ice being this light and thin. Do you even have any meat underneath all those dirty bandages?” Chuuya snapped back, raising his upper body and sitting up. He didn’t have the energy left to deal with the man’s teasing. Exhaustion hit him like a truck and he just wanted to finally go home.

“Of course I do!” the man weakly flexed his arms and frowned his eyebrows.

Chuuya wasn’t impressed.

“Huuh…” he rolled his eyes, standing up. “Well, without any muscles and not even being able to read warning signs, I wonder how you have lived your life up until now.”

“Unlike a chibi slug, I’m actually very smart,” the man said, also standing up and hovering one head taller than the other. “I mean, I’d never stand on the top of a thin ice layer to save another person. Couldn’t you come up with a better plan to save your beautiful princess?”

“I don’t see any beautiful princesses here, just a disrespectful walking waste of bandages who can’t even say ‘thanks’ to someone who saved him,” Chuuya crossed his arms. “Also, I wouldn’t need to freaking risk myself if you weren’t stupid enough to skate on thin ice in the first place.”

“You know, now that I think of it, how did you even know I was here, chibi?” The lanky man asked, making an exaggerated inquiring expression. Chuuya cleared his throat, ready to ignore the question. The man smirked playfully. “Is chibi perhaps a clairvoyant? Are you seeing me in your dreams?”

Chuuya froze in place, face heating up.

“O-of course not, asshole! I was just passing by since this park is close to work!” He angrily snapped, turning around and starting to make his way out. Why did he even stay that long listening to that yap yapping?

“Isn’t it too early to leave work though? Your clothes and the badge on your jacket tell me you work at Mori Corporation, and since you just ruined your expensive shoes in order to save a beautiful damsel in distress, I assume you have a quite high position there. Shouldn’t Mori Ougai be overworking you to death? Or do you just get some privileges being such a good worker?”

“Man, won’t you shut up for a second? Why are you even following me?” Chuuya barked back, angry at how the man was able to pinpoint all of those facts. Who even was that weirdo that had somehow made his way into Chuuya’s life? “You could just say thank you for having your ass saved by me and we part ways here. You take care from now on and we never meet again!” He raged on. They had been walking side by side until the park’s exit was visible.

Chuuya was going to walk out that gate, buy some sleeping pills and knockout so hard he hoped he wouldn’t dream again for the next thirty years.

“Ehhhh, but I’m cold and was just at risk of dying! You should buy me a coffee or something to warm me up!” The man whined, once again wiggling his arms in a weird way.

“You mean I should buy you a coffee when I actually just saved you? Not you paying me a coffee in return?” Chuuya opened his mouth in disbelief. The man shrugged.

“I’m broke, and cold. Oh, and Kunikida-kun forbade me from drinking coffee so it might be better to get me a hot cocoa,” he kept going on, brightly.

Chuuya needed about 5 shots of expresso to deal with that.

“I think the fuck not. Just get this Kunikida-kun, poor soul he might be, to get it for you. I’m leaving.”

“Heeeh, why? Chuuya is being mean~,” came the whining again. “Even though he held my hand he won’t buy me a coffee!”

“What the fuck is this ab-- Eh? How do you know my name?” Chuuya stopped on his tracks and stared in confusion at the man that insistently followed him.

“I googled it,” he shrugged again, as if it were obvious. “What’s the name of the world’s most orange and smallest slug? There it is, Nakahara Chuuya. So easy.”

Chuuya didn’t know why he had bothered asking.

“Shut the fuck up, you stupid mackerel,” he resumed walking, clenching his fists inside his pockets. He should just go home and rest.

But the man wouldn’t let him go that easily.

“Aren’t you going to ask my name in return? We’re acquaintances now right? We’re past being strangers if you saved me for a second time, you even held my hand and everything,” he popped up from behind him, teasing with a smirk on his face. Chuuya wasn’t sure if it was because he had saved him and he was thankful and wanted to be with Chuuya in return, but honestly, the short one sensed it was all very entertaining to the bandaged man. He could see the amusement in his brown eyes as he blinked adorably waiting for Chuuya to socialize with him and ask for his name.

“First of all, we didn’t hold hands. I had to pull you from the cracking ice and it just turned out that it was easier to do so by grabbing your hand,” he made sure to leave that clear. He cleared his throat and crossed his arms. “And do please enlighten me with your name, o’ bandaged damsel in distress, if you insist so much,” he rolled his eyes, absolutely done with that conversation.

“Aww, isn’t Chuuya such a gentleman!” The man giggled, entwining his hands on his back and inclining his body forward, making his eyes almost at the same level as Chuuya’s. “I’m Dazai. Dazai Osamu. It’s nice to meet you.”

Chuuya’s heart did not skip a beat.

“Yeah, yeah, wish I could say the same,” he mumbled, trying to hide the slight blush on his cheeks (it was due to the cold!). Dazai seemed shocked.

“Ehhh, why is chibi not happy to meet me?”

“Considering I just saved his ass twice and did not even get a ‘thank you’ in return, I can’t say it has been the most delightful experience,” Chuuya retorted. He sighed at Dazai’s playful smirk, knowing he was being played with and the man was just overall having fun at his cost. “Look, it's all good now, so you should probably go home and rest. Maybe stop by at a hospital and have everything checked to see you’re not hurt anywhere. I've gotta go now, so take care from now on and don’t get yourself in trouble again, you hear me?”

“Why, why, I can’t promise anything,” Dazai chuckled. Chuuya scowled at him. “But why are you leaving already? What about my hot cocoa?”

“How about you piss off!” Chuuya finally exploded, almost kicking the man. Dazai laughed openly, making the other all the more irritated.

Chuuya did not take any sleeping pills, but the dreams stopped for some reason. He was mostly relieved, thinking Dazai finally settled and stayed out of trouble. But something still bugged him; a slight discomfort, an ache in the back of his head, a worry that something might happen without him knowing.

This shouldn’t bother him. He wasn’t close to Dazai. He wasn’t a surveillance camera either, tuning in to check if the other was safe or not. They should just go on about their lives as they had done all this time. Chuuya was glad to return to his routine, having a good night of sleep and working normally without worrying about a potentially-in-danger bastard.

And yet, he worried.

Days had gone by and he didn’t as much as casually bump into Dazai in the streets, nor had he seen a sand-colored trench coat. What should be expected because it had never happened before. Chuuya knew nothing about Dazai aside from his name. When they parted after the lake, it was the last time they had something to do with each other. They hadn't exchanged any contact information, and Chuuya was so exhausted and fed up at that time he hadn't even thought about it.

He never even considered he might become lonely without his weird and realistic dreams.

He was glad, though, if that meant Dazai was not in danger anymore. All in all, Chuuya not having those dreams anymore was all for the best, no matter how lonely he ended up feeling.  Not that he’d openly admit it, not even to himself.

The snowfall was really bad that year. It covered the streets and houses and piled up for days without melting. People complained about how long that was lasting. Everyone worried and became grumpy, hoping spring would come soon.

Chuuya didn’t mind the snow so much. It had been about two or three weeks since it started snowing more heavily, but it’s not like they were buried in it. He also thought it was great for sleeping, now that he had his usual peaceful dreams back. The neighborhood was still and quiet, and it stayed like that even after the long winter nights were over. His sleep hadn’t been disturbed ever since the dream he had about Dazai and the lake, and things had swiftly gone back to normal.

That is until he dreamed again.

The street was, as everything had been for the past few days, covered in snow. Few lamp posts lit the road, the place being mostly dark; it was probably late night or very early morning. The stars couldn't be seen in the sky, but snowflakes silently fell from the dark clouds hidden in the night.

On the icy road, tire track marks led the way until a vehicle had crashed into a pole, smoke coming out of it, and shattered glass pieces scattered around the floor.

Suddenly, one of the car’s doors opened slowly, going back and forth a few times as if the driver didn’t have enough strength to pull it completely open. When it was propelled enough for it to stay open, a body fell weakly out of the car, falling onto the cold, hard ground. The person coughed and small splatters of blood covered the ice below them, as they feebly dragged themselves a little further from the accident.

As they dragged themselves over the ice, their sand-colored trench coat got slightly wet, darker bleeds of water staining the lighter fabric.

Dazai gave up after moving a bit, and laid down with his back on the floor, staring at the falling snowflakes that started covering the car, his stained clothes, and his hair. There was a trail of blood coming from under his bangs and reaching his left eye. His breathing was uneven and the way his chest rose and fell seemed painful. His hands, laid beside him, half-covered in bandages but without any gloves, started turning blue due to the cold.

He looked in pain. As he blinked trying to dispel the snowflakes that were stuck on his eyelashes, he opened his dry lips and mumbled to himself.

“Chuuya…” his voice cracked and he coughed a little. He closed his eyes and frowned a bit. “Chuuya. I don’t know if this could ever happen… but… but if you’re seeing this right now… It’s about… 3:30 in the morning… here… this is…” every word required an immense effort as he related the place, date, and time of the accident to a far away savior with who he had no way of being sure that would listen.

A small pool of blood started forming under him, as he shivered in the cold night, alone in the stillness of a snowy dawn that was yet to be greeted by the sun.

Chuuya gasped and sat up as soon as he opened his eyes. Again, he was covered in sweat with his heart racing. It had been long enough that he had forgotten the feeling of those realistic dreams he'd had with Dazai, needing a few minutes to recover himself from the scene he had witnessed in his mind.

Dazai needed help.

There was no way Chuuya wouldn’t go to him. He probably was blabbing anything out of shock from the accident, but the fact was that Chuuya had heard his help plead and would never be able to ignore it.

He checked the alarm clock next to his bed and, missing a heartbeat, realized that the day of the accident was that very day.

He had about 40 minutes to save Dazai.

Jumping out of the bed, he searched up on his phone the place Dazai had told him in his dream, dressed up warmly, getting lots of first-aid items, and stuffing them into a huge bag. He also got his bed sheets, blankets, and jackets, folding them as nicely as he could due to his hurry.

As he dialed 911 to warn them about the accident, trying to save up time and get them there as soon as possible, he made his way to the garage, where his red motorcycle was kept.

The roads were slippery and it was dangerous to drive too fast. But Chuuya needed to reach Dazai. He didn’t know how much time the man could wait after the accident happened since from the dream Chuuya couldn't tell the extent of his injuries. And Dazai had given him an approximate time, it could happen anytime soon.

He went as fast as he could, cursing how the numbers of minutes changed so quickly in his wristwatch. He was almost running out of time.

“No, fuck!” He cursed as he made a wrong turn the navigator was too slow to warn him about. Breaking some laws and risking getting his license revoked, he turned on the spot, his motorcycle slightly slipping on the ice and making him anxious about getting into an accident himself before being able to save Dazai.

Just when the navigator told him he was one minute away from his destination, he heard in the silent night a loud screech and the sound of metal crashing. His stomach was in knots as he speeded up. He could see the smoke and the twitching light from the pole that had been hit.

As soon as he clumsily parked his bike in a hurry to reach the accident, grabbing his bag, the crashed vehicle’s door opened and Dazai fell out of it, as he had done in the dream.

Chuuya gulped seeing him and hurried to his side.

“Dazai!” he couldn’t help the anguished sound that came out from his throat. Dazai saw him approaching, a bit confused as to why a disheveled Chuuya was running towards him. He probably thought he was an illusion.

“Help is already on the way, Dazai. Hang in there,” Chuuya said, dropping to his knees and pulling out his backpack to his side.

Dazai was quiet for some seconds, but seemed a bit more at ease than in the dream. Maybe because Chuuya was there?

“This hurts pretty badly. I hate pain,” Dazai complained, taking deep breaths. Chuuya covered him in the extra jackets he had brought, making sure he wasn’t too cold. He didn’t move him around so much, fearing it would worsen his injuries. There wasn’t a lot of blood, from what he could see. The way it melted and mixed in with the snow was alarming, but it should be due to the contrast of the bright colors. He didn’t seem to be hurt so badly, almost like he was able to avoid the worst at the last minute.

Dazai silently stared at Chuuya while the shortest one checked the time. He had called 911 a while ago, weren’t they taking too long to reach them? Dazai’s dry lips parted again and he said, in a very low voice.

“You came.”

Chuuya froze on the spot, clenching his jaws. It was the same struggle every time. How could he explain the fact he had shown up in the middle of nowhere, at the exact time and location dream-Dazai had told him? It was too much to pass off as coincidence as he had done the previous times. Before he could try to come up with an excuse, Dazai spoke again.

“I saw them too, you know. The dreams in which you came to save me.”

Chuuya’s eyes rounded in surprise. Dazai seemed amused at the expression he made, a little smile perking on his lips.

“The first time I obviously didn’t know you would come. But you did, and I got curious about it. Was it just a coincidence? Was the dream more than a dream? You said you’d never come again because I was trying to commit suicide. So if I wanted proof of what was happening, next time I’d have to make sure it seemed like an accident. I knew the slug would be too soft-hearted to ignore me if I actually needed help.”

“Wait, what—the next time?” Chuuya interrupted him, frowning. It was shocking enough that Dazai was having the same kind of dreams as him. But what was he saying, now? Making sure it looked like an accident?

Dazai was decent enough to look at least a tiny bit embarrassed about what he had just said.

“You’re telling me you’ve been doing these… on purpose ? Today, too?” Chuuya’s heart was racing and he clenched his fists, looking directly at Dazai’s brown eyes. There was a little bit of regret in them, but nothing that told Chuuya that his understanding of the situation was wrong. “Are you fucking insane, you dipshit?”

He tried to stand up but feeble cold fingers wrapped around his wrist. Dazai was expressionless, but something in his glance made Chuuya realize he was a little worried at Chuuya’s reaction.

“Are you angry?”

“Of course I’m angry! Why are you putting yourself at risk like this! You seriously could have died all of these times! You didn’t even know for sure I was seeing dreams of you dying! How could you just test it all like it means nothing, I know you are a suicide maniac but—“ Chuuya could barely finish his sentences, shaking. He was angry but he was also scared.

He wasn’t close to Dazai. It’s not like they were friends, they were barely acquaintances. But they definitely had a connection, if those dreams weren’t a sign of that. What if Dazai really had died one of those times? How would Chuuya feel about that? Or if he didn’t make it in time, and had to watch the man die, knowing he might have been able to save him?

“Let me explain,” Dazai pleaded, a weak voice no more than a whisper reaching Chuuya’s ears. There was something about the way those words sounded that made the redhead hold still, despite still being angry and trying to calm himself down.

Dazai still held Chuuya’s wrist with his long cold fingers, and that was probably what prevented the shorter one from standing up and leaving in his anger. Long seconds passed by them, Dazai’s punctuated short breaths overlapping with Chuuya’s deep ones in an attempt to calm himself down. When Chuuya seemed like he’d listen, Dazai spoke again, in a low and soft voice:

“I was just having it really bad one night. I hadn’t slept properly in three days, and when I finally knocked out, I dreamed about you. About me attempting to jump near Christmas, and how a strong, good-looking red-head just came out of the blue and saved me. And when I woke up, I thought it was naught but a dream,” Dazai’s tone of voice was slow and calm, without any teasing. “Of course, it also surprised me when you showed up, but at that moment…” he frowned a bit, considering his next words. “When you saved me, I felt glad to be alive. Because some fascinating thing happened, and perhaps it could happen again.”

Chuuya huffed slightly. “It’s still no reason to bet your life on, no matter how fascinating it must have been. Even if it came true once, you shouldn’t have created those situations in which I’d come again. That’s just sick.”

“I know,” Dazai said, a tinge of sorrow in those words. They were silent for a few seconds before he spoke again.

“Yet, I thought it was the only way to meet you outside my dreams. If you always came to my rescue when I was in danger, I’d at least see Chuuya one more time.”

Chuuya blinked a few times hearing that, all his boiling anger vanishing at the words. His ears burned in embarrassment and he finally made Dazai let go of his wrist. Gritting his teeth, he picked Dazai’s phone from his pocket and easily unlocked it since there was no password.

“Then next time use a fucking phone call like a normal person, you stupid mackerel,” he tossed the phone back after saving his contact info. His voice trembled a little and he wished he could blame the cold. Dazai had a faint smile on his lips and nodded briefly. Chuuya sighed. He lightly flicked the other’s forehead.

“If you’re having it bad, just call me and we can talk it over. I don’t want to have these kinds of dreams anymore otherwise I’ll never get proper rest. So enough of this, do you hear me?” his voice was soft as he finally heard the sound of ambulances arriving at the place. “Who knows if there won’t be a time I won’t make it. I’ll come if you call, so don’t try it again, please.”

“It would be a lot more romantic if Chuuya just promised to never leave my side to prevent me from doing anything stupid, you know…” Dazai finally teased, his lips curving into a grin. Chuuya left a tch escape his mouth, suppressing the urge to hit that stupid handsome face – as if he could ever stop Dazai once he decided on something. That much he knew already. With a chuckle, just as paramedics stepped down from the ambulance, Dazai added: “Ugh, I’m cold. Will you finally buy me a hot cocoa, dear slug?”

Chuuya laughed in disbelief.

“I will, you stinky mackerel. It’s a promise.”