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“You better take me to the extraction point…”
“You got it, partner.”
- - -
Chuuya is barely conscious but was sort of half asleep as he’s being carried towards somewhere. He’s not entirely sure who it is but it’s definitely not Dazai. Of course, it wouldn’t be Dazai because he knows him so well that he’ll end up ditching him.
He’s not even fazed from the other times back when they were both in the Mafia.
Yeah, ‘partner’ my ass.
He rubbed his cheek onto something soft and furry like while his nose brushed against the material and inhaled softly, recognising the scent. His arms around, whoever this person was, are looped around their neck lazily.
Alright… who the fuck is this guy…
He couldn’t move anything yet. He felt way too exhausted at the moment.
He slowly opened his eyes that met on the ground before shifting to the unknown person’s black coat that’s been leaning against since he’s been unconscious. He lifted his head away from the fur and realised he knew who this coat belonged to.
His theory is proven right when he sees the person’s dark locks touching their shoulders. Chuuya immediately makes both of them stop with his ability.
“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” He asks with a sharp glare at the back of the man’s head.
The young man turns around, revealing familiar dark purple eyes staring into his blue ones, “I couldn’t have let anyone see you peacefully sleeping there. Poor Dazai-kun left you there sound asleep. Wasn’t he such a ‘partner’ to you, Chuuya?”
“That doesn’t mean you drag me back into your life.”
A small smirk appears on the man’s face, “Oh? Who said I was dragging you back into my life? Did you not hear yourself calling for me?”
Chuuya’s cheeks bloom into a light shade of pink, “Who the hell would be calling for you?” He snarled back before looking at where they arrived, “where the fuck were you going to take me to anyway?”
“Home.”
“Fyodor, I’m not falling for your tricks—”
“None of my feelings towards you have been tricks, solnyshko.”
“That’s what you say now. If we were talking about a year ago, you wouldn’t have said the same.” The redhead attempts to get out of his grasp but obviously he can't when he’s being piggybacked, “Oi, let me go, bastard.”
“Chuuya.”
“Don’t you dare ‘Chuuya’ me or give me those fucking names again. We’re not a ‘thing’ anymore, Dostoyevsky,” Chuuya clutched tightly on the other’s shoulders, “we’re enemies. You hate me and I hate you, it’s reciprocal. I’m an executive of the Port Mafia, we can’t do these things anymore and I don’t want to.”
“Who said I hated you?” Fyodor’s voice went all soft and Chuuya hated that.
Chuuya swallowed a big lump in his throat and mustered the strength to say something back, “You made it plenty obvious. Now, let me go.”
“But what if I’m not ready to let go, Chuuya?”
“Let me go anyway. Learn to accept my feelings and move on, that’s what you always do. You’re no different either from any other people.”
Fyodor leaned his head back, resting on Chuuya’s shoulders with his lips only a few centimetres away from his ear, “Dorogoy, you’re still holding onto me.”
The light breeze from his breath into his ear startled him slightly.
The petite mafia was going to say something but noticed a sudden change in touch. He was using his ability to stay on Fyodor’s back, his arms no longer holding him up. Chuuya’s arms were still around his neck and his face was still resting on his back.
Chuuya wordlessly landed onto the ground and adjusted his coat over his shoulders along with fixing up his hat.
“Thanks for that…”
Fyodor didn’t say anything but continued to stare at the redhead.
“Your hair was longer than the last time I saw it.”
“That’s how hair works. What? Are you going to make fun of it or something?” Chuuya asked, furrowing his eyes.
The dark-haired man reached for the longer part of his hair, resting on his shoulders. He played with it before turning away, his back faced the executive.
“Of course not. I think it suits you. I’ve always said that.”
“I thought you were staying in Russia. What happened to that?”
“There was something here that I wanted back again,” his eyes looked into Chuuya’s as they brightly glowed under the moonlight. “I’m sure you know what I’m talking about.”
“Your aim to get rid of all ability users?”
Fyodor took a step forward and smiled, “Something more beautiful and meaningful.”
“Dostoyevsky, I’ve told you to let go already—”
“Chuuya, you can’t let go either.”
“What the hell are you spouting out now?”
“You can lie to me all you want but that isn’t your answer. That isn’t how you truly feel.”
A harsh crack surrounded where Chuuya stood. A bright red glow wrapped around his body as he took a step forward and dug a finger into Fyodor’s chest, “What do you know about ‘truly feeling’ something, Fyodor? Let’s get this straight, you felt nothing back then and you will never feel anything now.”
He poked his finger into his chest once more, “What difference is there? You’ll just end up leaving me like everyone else.”
Chuuya laughed and stepped back to keep his distance from him.
“Then you’ll tell me ‘you’ve changed’ when you just want to end up manipulating me into something once again for yourself. You’ll toss me aside and leave my dead body rotting on the ground after your plan has been finished.”
He is uncontrollably shaking as his hands balled into his fist, ready to punch Fyodor’s face.
“I hate you, Fyodor Dostoyevsky. Move on already.”
Fyodor heaved a sigh, grabbing onto Chuuya’s wrist and pulling into his chest. His cold hand patted the back of the other’s head while softly kissing the tears running down Chuuya’s cheeks.
“I still hate you,” he mumbled again, lightly punching his chest.
Fyodor pulled back and rubbed circles around his back.
“I know, solnyshko.”
Chuuya’s phone suddenly vibrated as he reached for his phone and Fyodor was gone by the time he looked back up. He wasn’t surprised, exhaling a deep breath and clearing his throat before answering.
“Hello?”
“Thank goddess you answered, Chuuya! We’ve found Q, where are you?” Kouyou asked on the other side of the phone.
“Don’t worry. I’m heading back home. I’ll be fine, Ane-san.”
“Get some rest, alright, Lad?”
“Yes. Goodnight, Ane-san.”
Chuuya ended the call, letting his hand drop to the side.
Why does he have a bad feeling that this wasn’t the last time they will encounter each other?
Coincidence enough, a small white note swayed through the breeze and landed on top of his shoes. He raised a brow and grabbed it off his shoe.
я все еще люблю тебя
He scrunched the piece of paper and threw it into the bushes and clicked his tongue in annoyance.
He slowly trudged back home with the thought of these events happening tonight while the roaring beast inside him was dormant for the rest of the night.