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Rain pittered down to the earth below. Nothing was particularly unusual about this rain, but when everything was so quiet, it had a way of making its presence known. A subtle reminder that the world was still spinning and nature never truly stopped, no matter how much it felt that time was at a standstill.
Derealization.
That’s what this is called , Chuuya thought as he continued to walk with his umbrella secured in one hand.
Port Mafia executives, like Chuuya Nakahara, would usually never find themselves caught in the rain. There was always a sleek black vehicle there to take them wherever they needed to go. A shield from the harsher elements of the natural world and a transport to the ugly underworld.
There was something poetic about walking in the rain and that’s what Chuuya enjoyed so much about it. The glistening of the lights as they were reflected off of the rainwater that had collected on the streets. The steady rhythm the raindrops provided as they hit the buildings. And that particular scent that rain carried with it. Something tells him he would make a fantastic poet. Perhaps he would sit and write about what he saw and heard if he didn’t have somewhere he needed to be.
His walk continued, as the night slowly overtook the city of demons known as Yokohama. There was somewhere he wanted to go but it was a place he couldn’t return to. So he headed for another. It wasn’t a good substitute, but he knew nothing would be. The memories made in the first place could never be truly captured; it was a place locked in time. The second place didn’t hold many memories, but still provided a sense of comfort.
After some more walking, a quiet train ride, and even more walking, Chuuya found the particular back alley he was looking for. At first glance, it’s nothing special. But, when one looks upwards, they will be greeted with a black, white, and red neon sign, reading the word “ Lupin ”. The rain almost glows as it passes the sign on the journey down, almost like a magic spell drawing the young mafia executive inside.
Chuuya opens the door, letting the sounds of the rain inside, just before shutting it again and hearing the soft, slow, jazz music as it hits his ears. He puts his umbrella near the door to dry then walks down the stairs and sees the quiet bar.
Someone sitting at the bar glances up towards him as if they were expecting someone. Their face changes as they recognize who is walking down the steps. It may not be who they wanted to be there, but they don’t seem disappointed.
“Hello, Chuuya,”
Chuuya sneers as he sets down his jacket and hat on the counter. “Mackerel,”
The person chuckles as they return to their drink. “Nice to see you too, Slug.”
Osamu Dazai.
Of all the people Chuuya had to run into on this night, it just had to be his former partner. ‘Double Black’ as the two were known back then. Together they had taken down enemy organizations overnight. It’s hard to believe that was four years ago. Now, they were on vastly different paths. One light and the other dark.
Chuuya looks toward the bartender, wearing a crimson vest. “Wine, red, please. Top shelf stuff.” He orders. The bartender nods and places a wine glass in front of him.
“So, what brings you to Bar Lupin ?” Dazai asks. “I seem to remember you always turning down my invitations to take you here.”
Chuuya side-eyes his former partner. “I think you have that ass-backward,”
“Oh?”
“As I seem to recall, you invited Oda and Ango all the time and gave me nothing but worthless pity invites to drink with the three of you.” Chuuya answers as the bartender pours his wine. He gives a nod as thanks as he takes the glass.
“Which you declined every time,” Dazai adds as he picks up his whiskey.
“Of course I declined!” Chuuya yells.
“Then,” Dazai continues not letting Chuuya get another word in. “When I saw you again, you got angry with me and asked why I never invited you.” He takes a sip of his drink as if to punctuate his point.
Chuuya turns his head away from Dazai. He can’t deny he did that, no matter how much he wants to. Yet the way Dazai words it, makes it clear he doesn’t understand why Chuuya did it.
“But you’re here now and I didn’t even need to invite you,” Dazai says with a slight chuckle. “You always surprise me, chibi.”
“Surprise you?” Chuuya questions, unbelieving. “I didn’t think anyone was capable of that.”
Dazai gives a little smile as he plays with the sphere of ice bobbing in his drink. He has a look in his eyes as if he’s seeing something far away, something no one else can see. Chuuya watches and gives a small smile of his own. He knows what that kind of look means.
“You remembering something, Dazai?”
“You could say,”
Words pass by the two that are unspoken. There are stools at this bar that are left unfilled. Old friends who are now no longer with them. Those friends, Chuuya knows, are the reason that the two of them find themselves here on this rainy, cold night. Fate brought Chuuya and Dazai together the first time they met and now it has led them here after all these years.
Silence passes for a while longer until Chuuya speaks up again. “To answer your earlier question, I’m here because,” He swallows roughly trying to prevent his emotions from coming out. “Because I can’t go back,” He’s not sure if he can finish his sentence.
“To ‘Old World’, right?”
Chuuya winces as he hears the name of that old bar again. Memories rush his mind like a blizzard. Chilling images of himself and his old friends having fun together before the only thing he could see was their lifeless, blood-soaked bodies. He despises how vividly the blood has clung to his memories more than the faces of his friends have.
“I can’t go back either,” Dazai says quietly. There is more he can say, about Oda being gone and about the fact that he can longer trust Ango, but that’s all his throat allows. He hums along with the soft jazz as the world slowly slips away as his memories play in his head.
The two quietly nurse their drinks, lost in thought about times passed.
“It’s just,” Chuuya tries to speak again. “Whenever you would invite me here, that is,” It was such a stupid reason looking back. “You guys weren’t the Flags.” Tears sting his eyes, the wine must be getting to him. “I knew that what I wanted wouldn’t be found there, it was buried along with Pianoman, Lippman, Doc, Albatross, and Iceman. But then I took it out on you when I saw you because you looked so...happy.”
Dazai stills. Pieces he never knew were missing, were falling into place.
After choking down a sob, Chuuya continues. “It hurt, a lot. I wanted to be happy that you finally had something to smile about, so I was jealous and wished I could have been a part of it too.” He lets a small laugh and he tries to wipe the tears from his eyes. “Fucking stupid,” He mutters.
“I don’t think it’s stupid…” Dazai says quietly as he looks over to his former partner. “You were hurting, and that hurt makes us do things that we might regret down the line.”
His breath hitches as Chuuya thinks over Dazai’s words. Looking back, he doesn’t think he’s ever heard Dazai sound so sincere, especially with him. The two were always tossing insults back and forth between each other. It was rare that the two would just sit and talk with sincerity. With all the things the two have been through up until this point, they needed this. Someone else to verify that things that happened to both of them, did indeed happen. They were the one constant in each other’s lives. At the end of the day, they were two idiots who fate happened to bring together and no matter how hard they tried, that fate kept pushing them back together again and again. Were they rivals…? Friends…? Something… but partners nonetheless.
That’s just what being “Double Black” meant.
Chuuya feels something being laid over his shoulders. Looking up, he finds Dazai putting his tan coat over top of him.
Dazai gives a smile. “You were shivering, figured you might be cold. Besides, what kind of dog owner would I be, if I left you like that?” There’s that same annoying smirk again.
Chuuya rolls his eyes at the reference to the old, stupid bet he took. But a small smile appears on his face as he pulls the coat tighter over his body. “You’re such a prick, you know that?”
“I’ve been told many times!”
“That isn’t something you should be happy about!!”
“Kunikida told me the same thing the other day.”
The earlier melancholy slips away from the two, now replaced with the ever familiar banter. It almost reminds the two of the nights they spent together on missions or just messing around when they were fifteen years old. It’s funny how easily the two can slip back to that time as if things never changed between them. A bond that was truly unbreakable.
“Wait, wait, wait, you told Mori, the boss, what?!” Chuuya laughs holding his almost empty wine glass up in the air.
“You heard me the first time!” Dazai laughs in response. “Ask him if you want to hear it again.”
The two laugh and joke well after Lupin’s closing time. The bartender seems well amused by these two but urges them out. The two of them wave their goodbyes and leave the bar. The rain is still at its light pour from before, but it shows no signs of stopping anytime soon. The two of them would usually be blackout drunk at this point, but instead, Dazai didn’t let Chuuya have more than two glasses of wine while he only had the one glass of whiskey. The redhead is still a little wobbly though.
They walk for a while, their laughter echoing behind them. Their coats barely keep them dry, but they are too amused to even care.
“Shit, I think I forgot my umbrella at the bar,” Chuuya says as he notices that keeping dry was much harder than it was before, his hat barely keeping his hair covered.
“I’ll swing by tomorrow and grab for you,” Dazai says. “I’m guessing you’ll have a hangover tomorrow, lightweight .”
“Shut up!” Chuuya yells before his voice goes back to normal. “Thanks, though.”
Dazai gives a smile as he looks for a covered area so the two of them can figure out a way to get back to their respective homes. He finds a covered bus stop and leads the two of them over.
“I wonder how long the rain will go on for, it’s hell for my bandages,” Dazai comments. This prompts a little laugh from Chuuya. “What?”
“I never realized those were the reason you always hated the rain. I thought you were just a weirdo.”
“Calling me the weirdo? I seem to remember you getting all mopey when it rained and wanting nothing more than to just write emo poetry about it.”
“I did not get ‘all mopey’.” Chuuya defends. “The rain’s just, pretty, that’s all,” He looks out toward the street with a particular glint in his eye. Dazai knows that glint well. When Chuuya would get excited about something or deemed something he saw as beautiful, it was always there. It brings a slight heat to Dazai’s cheeks. He honestly thought he’d never have a chance to see it again, but he’s happy he gets to witness it, even just one more time.
“Chuuya…”
The redhead in question turns to meet Dazai’s gaze. That slight glint still lingered as those blue eyes practically bore holes into his head. It wasn’t a beautiful night or beautiful weather, as far as he was concerned, but he could see what true beauty was right in front of him. But he let that beauty go a long time ago and now like a fool he was so desperately trying to chase it to get it back.
“What?” Chuuya asks, curious as to what the crazed mackerel will say next. His hair was soaked and he was still shivering. He expected some sort of teasing remark about how messy he looked.
Dazai’s face falls. “I’m sorry,” He says with the utmost sincerity.
Chuuya blinks, trying to process what was said to him. Dazai didn’t apologize often, if ever. He wasn’t even sure if the brunette was capable of acknowledging his missteps.
“W-what? Sorry, the rain is really loud,” Chuuya sputtered. The rain wasn’t pouring that loudly, he just needed to confirm he wasn’t crazy.
Dazai walks up closer to Chuuya and leans close to his ear. Chuuya would be able to hear him clearly and he wouldn’t have to face those piercing blue eyes as he lays his heart on his sleeve.
“I’m sorry I never said it sooner,” Dazai says, that small smile still painted on his face. “But, I am sorry, Chuuya. For, honestly everything.”
Chuuya’s breathing almost stopped. He hoped his heartbeat wasn’t audible to Dazai, the thing didn’t want to be quiet.
“I didn’t understand how rough it must have been for you after the Flags passed. I thought inviting you to Lupin would help, but I see now how painful that had been for you.” Dazai pauses. He’s not expecting a response. “I’d never wanted to make you feel like that, you are my partner, after all.”
Chuuya hears that emphasis on “are”. It’s not “were”. A tear wells up in his eye and a small smile tugs at his lips.
“Also, I shouldn’t have left the Port Mafia without a goodbye,” Dazai says, a pang of guilt highlighting his words. His head leans down to rest on Chuuya’s shoulder, overcome with emotions he hasn’t let himself feel for a long time. “You always deserved that goodbye,”
The redhead’s whole face is in shock. He tries holding in his tears but it’s no use. That day when he received the news that Dazai defected was one of the worst days of his life. There was no note, no phone call, nothing. Well, he did get that bomb under his car but he didn’t even know about that till recently. He went around saying how happy he was and opened up a Petrus in celebration, but by the end of that night, he clutched that bottle close to his chest as his sobs filled the room.
Dazai stands back up as he wipes his own tears from his eyes. “Why am I crying?” He asks trying to stop the vile tears. He hasn’t let himself cry since Oda’s death.
“Because you have emotions, asshole!” Chuuya says in between his own tears as gives Dazai a punch to the arm. “It’s okay to cry,” He isn’t sure exactly who that’s aimed at, but both of them need to hear it.
“Dazai, I--,” Chuuya says trying to get his emotions enough in check to speak. “I missed you so much,” It’s his turn to lean against Dazai. He isn’t as tall, so he rests his head on Dazai’s chest. “After the Flags, you were it. The only other person I trusted. But then you left.”
Dazai can hear the hurt in his voice. He’s never been good at comforting people, but he tentatively places a hand on top of Chuuya’s head.
Chuuya lifts his head and looks up at Dazai. There’s a small smile on his face. “But you’re here now, and actually said you’re sorry for once.” Dazai sees that glint in those blue eyes and he doesn’t even know when his heartbeat started up like that. “So, one point to you, mackerel.”
Dazai, for once in his life, is left speechless. Fate was playing its devious tricks on these two again. He takes his hand and pushes a stray, wet lock of ginger hair behind Chuuya’s ear. What he says next surprises the both of them.
“You look lovely, Chuuya.”
Chuuya’s heart nearly stops dead in his chest.
As does Dazai’s.
Neither of them says anything as a warm glow overtakes both of their cheeks. Chuuya steps back from Dazai as he tries to process what just happened. Dazai thought his heartbeat would slow afterward, but it’s only picked up speed after saying that. Both of their eyes actively stay off of each other in embarrassment.
But as usual, Chuuya braves it and breaks the silence.
“R-really?”
Dazai swallows awkwardly. “Y-yeah.”
The two stand in that awkwardness as the rain continues to pour around them. The world hasn’t stopped, no matter how much that feels to be the case.
“Chuuya,” Dazai says as he takes a deep breath.
“Yes, Dazai?” Chuuya answers, his gaze set toward the ground.
“Look at me,” Dazai says quietly as he steps closer. Blue eyes slowly look up towards him. That stare burns him, but he braves those flames.
“Chuuya, I don’t want to lose you again,” Dazai starts. “So I’m going to say this and I know I probably should have said it way back then. But,”
He takes a deep breath.
“I love you, so much, Chuuya.”
Chuuya bites his lip in an attempt to ground himself, but he can’t help himself from smiling. That mackerel was always surprising him and would continue to keep surprising him for years to come.
“I’ve been waiting for you, jackass.” He eventually responds.
Dazai chuckles, he knew the so-called slug would always keep him entertained. “You going to say it back now?”
“Give me a second will ya?!” Chuuya grumbles. He takes a deep breath.
For all the feelings he’s felt towards Dazai he was sure that love would never have been the one that was actually reciprocated. It wasn’t an emotion that the two ever named, but it was always there. In every teasing argument, every time Dazai nullified Corruption, in those slight glances during missions, or even just a chance encounter at an old bar, there was a love the two had. It was odd and made no sense to others, but it was theirs all the same.
Fate would always play a role in their lives, but this was the first time they’d ever actually accept it.
“I love you, too, Dazai.”