Chapter Text
The only reason Chuuya knew his heart was still beating was because he hadn’t stopped running. Each breath he took seemed to crack his ribcage open another inch as he struggled for enough breath to push forward.
He tripped, his face falling towards the rough concrete wall of the alleyway. Taking his hand away from his bleeding neck, he felt a crunch as he swiped at the wall, catching his weight with just a few fingers. Trying to steady himself, he pushed hard, futilely hoping that somehow the momentum would help him to regain some of the lost speed from his stumble as began to round an upcoming corner.
Through sweat-stinging eyes, Chuuya saw his first light of hope. In front of him, the alleyway that he was being chased through was beginning to open up to a street.
If he could just get into the open, if he could get around other people then maybe, just maybe, whatever thing was chasing him would stop.
As he pushed his body forward into the openness, he was greeted with an escape from the alleyway; yet, despite his hopes, the street was horrifically empty.
“Shit. Shit. Shit!” Chuuya panted, slowing to a stop and resting his hands on his knees as he coughed. Blood dropped to the ground with loud splats and he couldn’t tell if it was from his mouth or the wound on his neck.
Chuuya took in his surroundings. To his left the road made a sharp curve, the street only visible for about five feet before being completely obstructed by the corner of a brownstone building. This was a quiet, residential area, likely left behind as people moved further into the city for more exciting Halloween parties. To his right was a long bridge over a river, leading to more apartments.
He was the only human here.
The footsteps of whatever had been following him became clearer, accompanied by a chiming laugh, much softer than a creature with so many teeth should be able to make. If he could just get some help -
Chuuya didn’t have the time to ponder his choice any longer. His legs shook his entire body as he tried to inch forward into the street. The adrenaline that had been moving his body was finally at its limit.
“Yoo-hoo! Found you~!” A sing-song voice called. It was loud, clear, and close.
Exhausted and trembling, Chuuya spit some of his blood towards the feet of the creature now exiting the alleyway, its clown costume only stained red from the creature’s own vomit. “Oh, fuck off,” Chuuya grunted.
The creature merely laughed and took a step forward. An excited smile on its face. “Come on! You almost got away~. Keep going! I’m sure you’ll be able to run away this time. Oh, I know! What if you call for help? Let me give it a go.” The creature spun around, lifting its hands into the air as if it was performing for a theater. “Help! Please! Help! I’m defenseless and dying. Oh no~!” Finally, done with its mocking, it turned to Chuuya, slowly prowling to where he stood in the street. “I pity you. I really do. But no one is coming. This is your end.”
The light of God washed over him, blinding his vision as Chuuya sank to his knees.
_____________________
Earlier that evening…
Very few people had the ability to make Chuuya self-conscious. He was confident in who he was and, sure, he wouldn’t mind growing a few more inches, but he knew that when the glances of strangers would rake over his body his height wasn’t what was being considered.
Kouyou was the one exception to his confidence. His only family left, he couldn’t help but feel his chest puff out a touch more with her compliments or his shoulders sag further with her reprimands.
“Ane-san! I’m over here!”
Her eyes flicked him over from where she was standing, her back positioned near the brick corner of the outside of a bar. She seemed to process his outfit for a second before pulling her lips taunt. “Chuuya…” she murmured, raising a long sleeve to cover the bottom half of her face.
Chuuya felt his cheeks flush as his hands grasped onto his elbows, anchoring himself in place along with a tilt of his hips. “Is it really that bad? I thought that-” he started.
“No! No, boy,” Kouyou laughed and gave a loving smile. “You’re growing up so fast, I wasn’t expecting you to dress so-” she paused, a teasing glint in her eye, “mature.”
Chuuya blushed slightly, glad that she approved of his costume. While he had always had a gaudy sense of style, it was still rather conservative. For Halloween, however, he had decided to go out of his comfort zone just a bit. He was dressed in ripped purple crop top and low rise jeans, accented by fake ears and a tail clipped to his red belt. “Whatever. You said that I had to dress up to get in…” he mumbled, turning his face away from Kouyou in embarrassment.
She merely laughed at his shyness, “You look very cute, boy.”
“I’m not cute, stop calling me that,” Chuuya grumbled. He turned his eyes back up to her from the ground, taking in her soft smile and crinkled eyes. She seemed happy, happier than he had seen her in months, he realized. “What?” He asked as she held his gaze.
“I’m glad you came out tonight,” she said, reaching out to his head and fixing a piece of his hair behind the headband for his ears. “I know it’s been a while, so it brings me joy to have you come out with me.”
Chuuya sighed, shifting on his feet and bumping his foot against the ground, standing up straighter, “You don’t have to baby me, Kouyou. I know you’re worried, but I’m fine.” Kouyou hums in response, her lips pressed in a thin line. The smile from before was already gone from her eyes.
He bumps her lightly with his shoulder, trying to ease their tension, “But thank you. Now, come on. I’m sure your friends are waiting for you.”
As they entered the bar, Kouyou was hailed over by her friends, sparing the pair from awkwardly standing near the entrance for too long. Giving the place a once over, Chuuya made note that the bar was crowded, but not packed. The small size of the bar seemed to make it feel busier than it actually was.
Almost all of the seats at the front of the bar were taken, as well as most of the booths that lined the walls. A small crowd of people were gathered around the bar and a pool table, laughing at a guy in a skeleton costume trying (and seemingly failing) to make a trickshot. Thankfully, the booth that Kouyou’s friends had picked was past that, through a wide, arched opening leading to a small room filled with more tables.
Currently, Kouyou was a PhD student at Yokohama College and was in her final years. From her time in the religious studies program there, she had met an ever-growing group of individuals, all in different stages of their schooling. Being highly respected in her department, Kouyou had good relations with both her professors, peers, and the undergrads that worked under her. While Chuuya had known this, he hadn’t realized how odd the conglomeration of Kouyou’s colleagues-turned-friends would be in person.
“Oh my darling Kyouka. You make everything look endearing. Though, I did have a bit of a different image in mind when I suggested your costume...” Kouyou gushed to a slightly miserable looking Kyouka in a maid outfit. Rather than the classic Halloween look of the French maid-dress, however, it appears that she went for a more literal approach. She wore blue scrubs with a company logo printed on a front pocket. “Where did she even find that?” Chuuya couldn’t help but wonder.
Chuuya recognized her from photos Kouyou had taken with her while on campus. Based on what Kouyou had told Chuuya, Kyouka was an undergrad student that was interested in researching a similar area as Kouyou’s thesis. Kouyou was so excited by her enthusiasm she invited Kyouka to work as a research assistant for her. Though, based on Kyouka’s facial expression once Kouyou showed up, maybe forced was more accurate than invited.
Once she finished giving attention to Kyouka, Kouyou introduced Chuuya to the group. “Chuuya, this is Kyouka, Tachihara, Gin, and Arthur. Though, you would remember him as Professor Rimbaud.”
Chuuya tried his best to match the names he had heard Kouyou mention before to the diverse bunch. First, Chuuya recognized Rimbaud. As the professor that Kouyou was working under for her doctorate, Rimbaud had come over to their apartment occasionally. In addition, Chuuya had taken a gen-ed he taught before he dropped out. As per usual, he was covered in what appeared to be a warm coat and ear-muffs; however, for the occasion, it seemed that he put some cut out paper triangles on the band of his ear-muffs. Maybe he was a cat? Or a dog? Or… Chuuya didn’t quite care enough to ask him about it.
Tachihara was the other redhead. Chuuya swore Kouyou was trying to collect every redhead she found. He was dressed up as a mummy, but the toilet paper he had wrapped himself in was falling off, making him look more like someone who lost a fight with a portapotty.
Gin was the last person in the booth who he had yet to meet. They were wearing a witch’s hat and a loose black dress. Their hair was down and they wore a black privacy mask covering most of their face. Gin’s eyes met his own immediately while he surveyed the table. An alertness was present in them that made Chuuya feel a slight sense of unease.
“Nice to meet you all. I hope we can all get along.” Chuuya spoke curtly. Groups weren’t Chuuya’s forte. There was too much you couldn’t say and too many rules. Life would be a lot easier if everyone could just say how they felt right off the bat.
“Chuuya,” Kouyou scolded with little actual malice. “No need to be so formal, boy… Let’s get you a drink, you’ll liven up for sure.”
“As long as you’re okay with carrying me home. What’s good here anyways?”
“How about cherry bombs for cherry hair! Someone who isn’t a redhead needs to get this round,” Tachihara interjected, smiling towards the pair.
Kyouka nodded, “That is reasonable. I can get them.” She had barely finished her sentence before she was getting out of the booth.
“Hey! You don’t have to-” Chuuya fumbled, trying to pull his wallet out of the tight pocket of his pants with little luck.
“I insist. Sit down.” She turned to the bar with no more words.
Kouyou was already making herself comfortable, sliding into Kyouka’s empty seat, pointedly looking at him to sit across from her. He sighed, rigidly sitting upright next to Gin. They continued to stare at him. Tachihara, from the other side of Gin leaned over though and gave Chuuya a big smile. “Hey dude! It’s great to meet ya. Kouyou told us that you just got out of the hospital. It’s good to have you with us!”
Chuuya tried his best to smile, unsure what to feel about this group knowing where he had been. How much did they know? And what was he even supposed to say about it? He had thought a lot about how he would try to interact with people when he was staying at Doctor Mori’s clinic, but now that he was here, everything that he wanted to say just felt wrong. “Than-”
“Oh Kyouka, it’s so cute to see you serving us like this!” Kouyou gushed.
Tachihara’s questioning was interrupted by the return of Kyouka. Her balance and precision was shocking for a college student, especially one that had been at a bar for some time already. Splayed between her fingers were six shot glasses while her arms hugged six glasses of Red Bull against her chest. She carefully placed each shot and chaser down at the table before she slid into the booth next to a beaming Kouyou.
Chuuya scoffed, Kouyou was shameless. Kyouka paid her no mind though, picking up one of the glasses and saying, “Let’s drink.”
Everyone followed her lead, grabbing a glass. The tips of Chuuya’s fingers thrummed back against the cool precipitation already forming on the glass. How long had it been since he’d had a drink? While he’d been able to enjoy a fun first year at university with his friends, when his illness progressed he’d been too sick to go out. Once he went to Doctor Mori’s clinic, he essentially cut out the world, only interacting with Kouyou when she came to visit him. He missed this, going out and all the energy that came with it. The realization made him pause, an odd sense of grief washing over him, mourning all of the experiences his illness made him lose. Kouyou gently nudged his foot, bringing his eyes up to meet hers, gentle and concerned.
“EHHHHH! That went down soooooooo smooth. Thanks Kyouka!” Tachihara raved, his waving hands seeming to follow the energy of his voice.
“It was quite good,” Kyouka also commented.
Gin and Rimbaud seemed indifferent. Tachihara looked around rapidly, trying to gauge everyone’s reactions. He zoned in on Kouyou and Chuuya’s full shots. “Come on guys. You snooze ya lose. Take those shots!”
“You wouldn’t want me to outdrink you. Would you, boy?” Kouyou taunted playfully at Chuuya.
Chuuya bristled at Kouyou’s provocation. “What’s even in this anyways?” Chuuya challenged, trying to buy some more time to prepare himself for the shot.
“The shot is cherry vodka. The glass has Red Bull. Chug the Red Bull after you shoot the shot,” Gin supplied quietly.
Chuuya jerked his head over to her, surprised to hear her talk. He was about to make a comment to buy himself some more time when he heard Tachihara give a whoop, “Clean form as always Kouyou.”
Kouyou smiled politely at Tachihara’s enthusiasm, before turning to Chuuya. Never one to back down, Chuuya looked her straight in the eyes and downed the shot, quickly reaching over to grab the Red Bull and chug it while he felt the back of his throat burn.
He coughed once after, trying his best not to seem like too much of a wimp, but everyone seemed too caught up in a story Tachihara was telling about their department’s librarian to pay him any mind.
After that, most of the night passed rather quickly. Tachihara was continuously full of energy and Kouyou held a calm, yet playful presence that seemed to resonate. Despite how different her friend group may have seemed, it was clear to Chuuya that each person held an important role in keeping up their unique dynamic. They seemed to work well together too, synergizing well as they wordlessly seemed to agree on who would buy the next round.
While he only drank a bit more, Chuuya would say that he was still feeling rather tipsy. The world felt slightly unsteady, his vision chasing to catch up every time he moved his head and the conversations around him were simultaneously taking two and twenty minutes. Rimbaud seemed to sense his growing discomfort and announced, “I’m going outside to smoke. Would anyone care to join?”
Fresh air, even accompanied by cigarette smoke, would be a welcome reprieve from the sweating and trembling world that Chuuya currently resided on. “Sure, I’ll come,” Chuuya slurred. Rimbaud smiled, seeming to have anticipated this.
“Pardon me ladies,” Rimbaud said as he slipped out of the booth, beckoning Chuuya to follow him. Chuuya glanced over Kouyou, who seemed to be prying herself away from an impassioned discussion regarding the best brands of rice in order to look up at him. Chuuya’s eyes darted over to where Rimbaud was walking, an unsaid question to Kouyou.
She merely waved him off, “We’re watching out for you, you’ll be fine, boy.” That was all the permission Chuuya needed in order to shoot off the pleather seat of the booth and towards the door Rimbaud had just left through.
As he walked, Chuuya had the sudden realization that he was much drunker than he thought he was while he was sitting. Whether it be from the blood rushing as he stood or something else, by the time Chuuya made it out the door, he was losing time.
A spilled backdrop of blue. A figure in white and a figure in black.
“That’s him?” The white smudge seemed to laugh.
“Yes, that’s him,” the figure in black said through a puff of smoke.
“He’s quite small,” the white smudge giggled.
“Oi, fuckface who’re ya calling-” Chuuya tried to say, his mouth moving as if chewing on sand. Chuuya leaned against the brick wall of the alleyway, trying to regain his sense of self.
The black figure walked out of the alley and the figure in white sauntered towards him. Chuuya swayed, trying to focus his vision on the blurry white man. His hair was bright, the type of white that didn’t come from a bleach job; rather, it was something someone had to be born with. The man’s outfit was odd, an old-timing clown outfit, complete with a slight mask over one of his eyes. What was most prominent about the man, however, was his smile. It seemed to take up his entire face, cheek to cheek was wide open, a beautiful open canvas filled with razor sharp teeth.
“What the fu-” Chuuya barely whispered before a hand shot out gripping his throat, causing him to cough up a bit of spit.
“Do you like jokes?” The man- no, Chuuya corrected, the beast - seemed to sing. It laughed before crowding into Chuuya’s space. It’s foot moved on top of Chuuya’s own, crushing his toes with a crunch, as one of its hands removed itself from his neck, grabbing and squeezing his hands above his head. Slowly, as if taunting Chuuya, it leaned forward, giving Chuuya’s neck a wet lick. “Answer this! What does an alcoholic ghost drink?” He taunted into Chuuya’s ear.
“Let go of me, freak!” Chuuya felt adrenaline coursing through his body as he tried to regain control of his hands. Rather than free himself, all he felt was more aware of the pain shooting out from his broken toes and bruises beginning to bloom around his neck and wrists.
“Wrong! It’s boo’s! …. Get it.” The beast laughed for only a second before its teeth bit into his neck.
Chuuya’s body told him to scream, but just as the thought entered his brain, it left as all of the pain he was feeling seemed to cleanse itself, a numb wash covering his body. His relief only lasted for a second, though. After a generous first gulp, the monster flew back, retching. Blood fell from the creature's lips with sick plops as he tried to spit out as much as he could, its body heaving on the ground in a crouched position. “Disgusting! You, pitiful creature, are the most vile human I have ever had the displeasure of tasting.” Chuuya felt the numbness that came with the creature's bite begin to dissipate. Taking stock of the creature in front of him, still spitting out his blood, Chuuya mustered all of his strength and ignored his pain. He booked it further away from the creature and into the alleyways, the alcohol in his veins causing his steps to stutter slightly before he fully took off.
_____________________
Atsushi nervously shuffled in the doorway, both of his hands reaching up to grab onto his elbows, anchoring himself in place, “Dazai, I think it’s time to go.”
“Whaaaaat?! Atsushi, it’d be so rude to leave these ladies so early. And after we so graciously walked them home from the club, too.” Dazai rolled his head to the side, eyeing Atsushi as he moved his hands to grip the shoulders of the two women fawning over him as he sat down on their couch, pulling them closer to him. While normally Atsushi would have been rather intimidated, it was hard to take Dazai seriously with cheap devil horns poking out of his hair.
“I just think… I mean, maybe we can just head back? It’s already two…” Atsushi tried, grabbing onto his fake tail and twirling it nervously.
Dazai stared at him, taking in his twitches and shuffles before sighing, “I’m so sorry ladies, but it appears that we won’t be able to stay.” He leaves the couch with a flourish, despite the whines of two women.
One of them pouted before asking, “You’ll call won’t you?”
“Of course, my dear Suki.”
“My name is Yuki.”
“Anyways, it’s been lovely ladies. Have to get him home now. Goodbye~” Dazai rambled as he pushed Atsushi out the door, closing it with a slam.
Atsushi stares at Dazai, wide-eyed before remembering to follow him down the hallway. “Did you really forget that girl’s name?” He asks earnestly.
“Honestly, it’s a miracle I was so close with my first guess,” Dazai sighs dreamily, sauntering ahead.
Atsushi caught up to Dazai, matching his pace as they walked out onto the street. “Why would you even try then?”
His question made Dazai pause, immediately stopping in place in the middle of the sidewalk. “Atsushi, why would it matter if I got her name right or wrong? How does that affect me in any way?” Dazai didn’t look to Atsushi for an answer, his eyes merely trailing up to the sky, the city lights blocking the night stars. The street lamps seemed to blur the black background blue the longer he stared.
Atsushi observed Dazai as he pondered, unsure if he should disturb him from his mood. He gave a soft hum, neither agreeing or disagreeing with Dazai’s statement before suggesting, “Would you like to drive us home tonight?”
Those magic words seemed to work as Dazai spun around, a dangerous, but excited gleam in his eye. “Really?! Ohhh, Atsushi, if I knew all it took was a little bit of silence to let me drive I’d ponder more often~” Dazai teased.
Atsushi reached into his pocket and pulled out his keys, tossing them over while Dazai crudely sang and wiggled to a tune Atsushi didn’t recognize. Shakily, Atsushi buckled his seatbelt and grabbed onto the handle near the roof, barely having enough time before Dazai stepped on the gas.
“A-are you gonna drop me off at my place?” Atsushi stuttered out while trying to steady his body against the sharp jerks of the car.
“Hm? You have your own place?” Dazai breathed out, laughing quietly as he yanked the car around another turn, his eyes lazily drifting over to Atsushi’s concerned face with a smirk.
“I told you three times last week, I moved in with Aku- Dazai!”
“You didn’t move in with m-” Dazai slammed on the brakes, the car skidding to a stop, but not fast enough to avoid the man standing in the middle of the road. The man’s body crumpled and flew, twisting in the air before dragging across the ground some feet away from their car, a streak of blood leading up to his body on the cement.
Atsushi undid his seatbelt and reached for the door, his hand missing the handle once before grasping it, shooting himself out of his seat. He took one quick step towards the man before his entire body halted. “Dazai…” he murmured.
The smell of blood was strong, but slightly off. Unlike the sweet hints, the blood covering the street smelled rotten and foul, a foreign nausea permeating the air.
Dazai slumped out of his car lazily, closing his door lightly as his face scrunched up at the smell. Despite its strength, the smell wasn’t enough to cover up the presence of another being with them. Dazai’s gaze went straight towards the man standing on the sidewalk to their right, completely ignoring the wet gasps of the man on the pavement. “Gogol, you seem to be a bit lost. You’re pretty far from the end of your territory, aren’t you?” Dazai said, standing up straight and squaring his shoulders.
Gogol swayed with a small laugh, before smiling sweetly, a lie no one believed passing through his teeth, “Oh my! I’ve been chasing this one for so long I guess I got a bit turned around~ You know how it is. Things, people, places, other things… they come, they go.”
Dazai’s lips tightened into a small scowl, “I think it is best you go, then.”
“Well, if you don’t mind, I’ll just be taking that with me and-”
“Leave him. It’s not yours if you’re out this far,” Dazai growled out, his disdain for Gogol evident on his face.
Gogol bowed to Dazai with an exaggerated twist of his cape, “Whatever you say~.”
“And give Fyodor my regards,” Dazai spat to Gogol’s back.
He laughed. “The Prince will love to hear that. I’ll be sure to tell him we met,” Gogol taunted as his voice faded into the alley.
Both Atsushi and Dazai paused for a moment, waiting to ensure that Gogol was truly gone and that they are fully alone before moving. Atsushi rushed towards the body in the street, kneeling close to the red-haired man and grabbing his hand. “Are you with us?! Where are you hurt?!” He cries.
Blood and grime cover the man, a stream of blood running out of his mouth and neck. “You… you have to,” he coughed, his entire body shaking.
“Dazai, is he…” Atsushi murmured as Dazai slowly crouches next to the man.
“Gross,” Dazai muttered as he scrunched up his face at the man’s smell, leaning back. “Yes, Atsushi. He is going to die,” Dazai replied to the question Atsushi was too afraid to ask.
Atsushi breathed in sharp, his eyes crinkling as they begin to shine with forming tears. He turned to Dazai, his voice pleading, “Please Dazai, save him. Turn him. We can’t… We can’t just let him die.”
Dazai merely shook his head. “Atsushi, this is simply what happens to humans. They live, they die. Not all of them can be saved,” he stated. Dazai turned his attention to the writhing man on the ground. “Do you have a last wish?” He asked, a tired strain to his voice.
The man on the ground simply coughed again, the shakes that rippled through his body were sharp and frenzied. “My sister,” the man starts. “Please, can you call her?”
Dazai stared thoughtfully at the man before pulling out his phone. “What’s her name?” He asked as he pulled up his phone app.
“Kouyou. Kouyou Ozaki.”
Dazai paused, his fingers hovering above his phone screen. “Your sister is Kouyou Ozaki?” He whispered, confusion spreading across his face.
The man’s only response is a fit of coughs, his blood splattering to the ground, the wet drops lost in a deep puddle already on the ground.
“Dazai, please! We can save him. If you just…” Atsushi tried again, tightening his hold onto the man’s hand.
“Stop,” Dazai interrupted, “I’m thinking.” He stared at the man. His head rested on the ground and his eyes were fluttering, but they are not yet shut. “Hey, you. Do you want to live?” The man stares blankly at him as he rasped out haggard breaths. “Say it. I can’t do it unless you choose it. Do you want to live? Will you do anything to keep living?”
The man barely nods his head, his breathing slowing down quickly. Dazai gave out a small curse, “You better taste better than you smell, slug.”
Dazai yanked the man’s head up, his fist tangling in auburn clumps of grime-tattered hair, bringing the man face to face with him. The man made no movement.
Dazai twisted the man’s head and bites. It took all of his strength to not spit out the man’s blood. When Dazai was still a human, he had eaten a rotted pastry. On the outside, it had appeared normal. The pastry shell slightly squashed from time, but still appearing flaky and light; however, once he bit in his taste was assaulted. The inside was bitter and the remains of the jammed cherries had only kept their sharp acidic twang. The pastry had turned fuzzy and stuck to the surface of his mouth, its stain present on his tongue for hours after his unfortunate bite. Now, he would much rather be eating a hundred of those pastries than drinking this human’s blood. It curdled as he drank it, thick chunks forming in the back of his throat, causing a slight twang of tears to form in the corner of his eyes.
With a heavy gasp he pulled away, the foul experience causing his mind to spin. He grunted, pulling himself back into reality. His attention then turned to his palm, quickly he summoned claws and cut deep. With a rough shove, he pushed the wound over the man’s mouth, his blood dripping onto the man’s tongue.
Dazai and Atsushi hesitated for a moment, hoping to see a sign of the man’s turn; however, nothing changed. Dazai dropped the man’s head roughly back onto the ground and grabbed his wrist, bringing it to his ear. Tense silence seemed to hang in the air until he heard it. Soft, quiet enough that some would have missed it, was a heartbeat. A faint scent of camellias waifed across the concrete. “He hasn’t rejected the transformation, but I can’t tell if he’s fully accepted it yet either. Grab him and let’s go, we can’t stay out in the open much longer,” Dazai instructed.
Atsushi looked at him briefly, stuck in a daze, before scurrying to grab the red-haired man. He hoisted him onto his back before waddling towards their car.
“Call Yosano. He’s going to need a doctor,” Dazai added as he buckled himself into the driver's seat once again. Atsushi nodded as he laid the man down across the backseat.
Climbing into the front seat, he pulled out his phone. “Should I call Aku too? What about Kunikida?” Atsushi asked nervously.
“No,” Dazai replied quickly. “No. Not yet. Just Yosano for now.”
Atsushi pursed his lips, but nodded, pulling up his contact list as Dazai started the car.