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Chuuya walked down to the almost deserted metro station.
It was the last train coming in a few minutes, he was glad he could make it time to catch the last one.
Otherwise, he’d have to sleep in the metro until the next train comes in the morning.
Not like he had ever done that before but he had heard plenty of stories from a certain person known to be fashionably late.
“Sorry chibi! I hope I didn’t leave you waiting for too long!”
Ah fuck, why did I have to remind myself?
He smiled sadly at the floor.
It had been 4 years since their breakup, why was he still caught on about it?
Sitting by one of the seats, he waited quietly for the train.
He buried his lips into his scarf, which wrapped around nicely around his neck. The red scarf he remembered always being stolen by the stinky fish he used to love.
Winter was never a good season.
He hated how the cold felt on his skin.
He hated how the only reason why he hated winter and the cold was because he was missing his ex-lover’s warmth.
Chuuya shook his head.
No… he fucking left you, he doesn’t deserve my attention.
He told himself, hoping it would calm his nerves. He was lying to himself but he didn’t want to face him laughing at how pathetic he looked right now.
Someone sat beside him, breaking him out of his line of thoughts.
Chuuya looked from the corner of his eyes; he seemed to be around the same age as him.
Dark hair and a pair of deep purple eyes. A nice shade of them he said to himself.
He was probably staring for too long because the stranger noticed and turned to look at him as well.
“Can… I help you?”
Chuuya jumped slightly and cleared his throat. Caught red-handed.
Oh fuck.
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to stare, it’s just that not many people take the last train. I was just surprised, that’s all…”
What a fucking lie, Chuuya, and you know it.
The man smiled, he couldn’t believe he actually fell for that, “Ah, yeah, I had some things and lost track of time.”
Oh god, his voice.
“How about yourself?”
“I guess the same… I had work…” Chuuya murmured back, ignoring the fact his ‘work’ was working with the Mafia. “It's nothing much and I wasn’t bothered to walk home so I’m taking the metro.”
The stranger chuckled in amusement, he didn’t know if he was laughing because he was mocking him or he was genuinely finding it funny.
“I see…”
The train soon arrived, and the both of them stood up at the same time and entered the train.
Chuuya didn’t expect to find himself sitting next to the stranger again, he had just met for only a few minutes. Why was he sitting with him?
Not to mention, there was a weird aura around him that Chuuya couldn’t place his finger on.
“You looked rather sad,” the stranger said out of the blue.
Chuuya flinched, “I… I did?”
“Ah. That was rude of me to say, sorry. I was just concerned.”
Concerned?
He only knew this guy for a solid 7 minutes and now he was saying he was concerned for him? A stranger? A complete stranger?
The mafioso avoided his gaze, “It was nothing important.”
“Do you want to talk about it?”
Chuuya immediately shut down his offer. “No, not really.”
“I see then…”
An awkward silence started between them with the sounds of the train going across rail tracks in the background.
Chuuya fiddled with his fingers.
Fuck.
Now, what are we supposed to talk about?
It’s awkward now.
“By the way, my name is Fyodor, I realised I haven’t introduced myself yet,” ‘Fyodor’ said with a small smile on his lips.
Thump.
Chuuya returned the smile.
“Chuuya. You can just call me Chuuya.”
“That’s a lovely name.”
“Thanks… I guess.”
What am I supposed to say back?
You have a nice name too?
“So, Chuuya-san, are you from Japan or are you a foreigner?” Fyodor asked.
Not like Chuuya mind him asking, he didn’t exactly look Japanese.
“I’m from Japan, born and raised here.”
“Oh, then I’m sorry for my judgement. You don’t exactly look Japanese.”
He chuckled, waving his hand around, “I get that a lot, don’t worry about it.”
What the heck is with his politeness? It’s kinda weirding me out…
“What about yourself, uh… Dostoyevsky-san?”
“I’m from Russia. I’m here for a business trip and Fyodor is fine.”
“Russia? Is it nice over there? I’ve travelled Europe but mainly France.” For missions .
“The country itself isn’t bad. Although my experiences there could say something else. Wasn’t exactly the best of childhoods.”
“You had a fucked up childhood too?”
He laughed and looked over to Chuuya, “You could say it like that, yes, Chuuya-san. My parents weren’t exactly the best kind… neither was the orphanage I lived in.”
“Yeah, I can’t remember anything from the age of 7. Found myself completely alone when I first woke at what felt like ages,” Chuuya randomly found himself saying back.
Why am I telling him this?
“Memory loss? That’s…”
“There’s nothing else to say about it. I don’t really care about it either.”
Fyodor blankly glanced at the windows across from them.
“I do remember feeling lost in my thoughts during those times. Always kept to myself, I didn’t like the name I painted for myself when I was younger. Who knew it would haunt me for so much longer.”
What the hell is he on about?
Chuuya clenched his hands and tried to find a way to sympathise with him even with his weird description. Like just say you didn’t like the old you, what’s with this painting shit?
“I guess that’s the same with me as well… but it’s all in the past, is it not? There’s no point to keep reminiscing about the past when you’re not there anymore.”
He could honestly take his own advice with the whole break-up thing. Who was he kidding? He was spitting out bullshit and nonsense to Fyodor.
“You do make a fair point. Well said, Chuuya-san.”
The weird thump in his chest came back again.
“Whatever,” Chuuya felt a little happy for himself that he could help him out, “I don’t remember my family, but there’s no point going back to think about it if I don’t know them. I mean, it’s been so long since I last saw any of them. Hell, I don’t even know if I have siblings or not still out there.”
Fyodor looked back at Chuuya with endearing eyes, “As long as you’re happy, Chuuya-san, I think that’s all that matters.”
Ah fuck. That feeling again.
“That’s… nice of you to say…” He murmured back.
“I think someone such as yourself deserves to have the freedom to be happy, Chuuya,” Fyodor replied, genuinely while the train stopped.
He stood up from his seat, staring at the surprised look on the other’s face.
“This is my stop now. I hope we can meet again and talk, Chuuya-san.”
“Huh?”
Wait…
I don’t want you to go yet…
Chuuya watched him step out through the doors. He was leaving. He was leaving… him.
He swallowed what felt like a huge lump in his throat.
Don’t… leave—
“WAIT!”
He ran out a second while the doors began to close, outstretching a hand to the Russian’s wrist. He grasped it tightly, pulling him back.
Fyodor flinched from his touch and force that he slightly fell back. He turned around to Chuuya.
“Chuuya-san?” He stopped walking to fully look at him, “something wrong?”
He cleared his throat and let go of his hand. His cheeks flushed and embarrassingly looked away from his eyes.
“My stop is here as well.”
“Oh? What a coincidence.”
“Yes. What a coincidence…” Chuuya nervously laughed back.
My apartment was a few stops after but this should be fine. I can use my ability to get back home anyway.
There’s no harm in talking to him more…
Right?
—Was what he was trying to convince himself so he could go with Fyodor.
“Shall we keep walking then?”
The mafioso nodded his head. “Yes. We should.”
Exiting the metro station, they walked along the quiet roads of Yokohama.
They stood a fair distance away from each other, Chuuya tried his best to distance himself from Fyodor, just because it would be awkward.
“Is your home far away from here, Chuuya-san?”
He shook his head like the liar he was, “it’s not too far away. Just a few minutes walk.”
“I see…”
“I’m curious, Fyodor, are you always this polite or is it just me?” Chuuya asked.
Fyodor took a few seconds longer to answer the question.
“I don’t think polite would suit me the best but would you be happy if I said that yes? I am only polite to you, Chuuya-san. I think you should be, with the utmost respect.”
Chuuya detected a hint of teasing in his voice, “Shut the hell up.”
He laughed it off, “Apologies, Chuuya-san.”
His eyebrow twitched in irritation, he thought he was going to have a headache from being called ‘Chuuya-san’ so many times within the hour.
“Call me ‘Chuuya’. Drop the ‘-san’, it’s pissing me off more and more as you say it.”
“Then it makes me want to say it more.”
Chuuya shot a sharp glare over him as Fyodor looked away avoiding his stare.
A few more daggers and he met his eyes again, giving up on ignoring Chuuya’s glare.
“Alright, alright, Chuuya it is then.”
He huffed.
Was that fucking hard?
The cold breeze brushed past the back of Chuuya’s neck and suppressed a shiver. He crossed his arms and hugged himself tightly.
Fucking hell… what is with this weather?
He noticed how his shoulders were more slumped and a sudden warmth spread through his body.
“You seemed cold,” he heard Fyodor say and finally realised he had put his black coat over him.
Chuuya raised a brow. “Are you not cold?”
“From Russia, we’re used to it.”
He frowned, seeing how Fyodor, despite what he said, was definitely hiding the shivers, not to mention the wind was picking up as they spoke.
Chuuya bit back the urge to not do anything about it but he had to. Stepping one step closer to him, he draped the other side of the coat over Fyodor’s shoulder.
“We can share it,” he mumbled back.
Fyodor was taken back a little but relaxed his face and closed the gap between them. “Thank you, Chuuya-san.”
“I said drop the honorifics didn’t I?”
“Sorry. Thank you, Chuuya.”
It felt wrong.
He didn’t know why.
There was something in his chest telling him, almost warning him that this was a dangerous distance.
Why? Didn’t he move on from Dazai? Because Dazai certainly has, he doesn’t have a strand of care in the world it came to him.
That’s why it was so easy for him to move on.
Chuuya hated the feeling.
Fyodor wasn’t like Dazai.
He was more kind, polite, and seemed to care more than Dazai could ever in the past 2 years they were together.
Stop it. Stop thinking about him. He’s not good for you…
“—uya? —san? Chuuya….? Chuuya-san?”
Chuuya snapped out of his thoughts and realised how close Fyodor’s face was to his.
His cheeks reddened and quickly backed away, “Yes?” He asked.
Fyodor frowned, You were zoning out… are you okay?”
No. I’m not.
Chuuya scoffed and rolled his eyes, “Of course, I would be alright. Why wouldn’t I be, idiot?”
“You had the same look on your face when I first saw you. You sure you don’t want to talk about it? I’ve heard saying things out loud makes you feel a little bit better,” Fyodor suggested, “but if you are free to decline. It is none of my business to intrude on your privacy.”
The redhead stared at the concrete footpath.
Should I?
It’s weird to tell someone like him…
“I can’t believe you actually fell for that, chibi. You really think I was interested in a dog like you?”
“I really thought you knew better than this, Chuuya.”
“There weren’t any memories really.”
That night, Chuuya knew he was joking but… his eyes… the look he gave him while he said it.
His emotions took the best of him.
Everything else was just one big blur.
“I…” he shakily said, “had someone I liked…”
Fyodor didn’t react in any way. He waited patiently for Chuuya to continue, as a way of telling him that he can take his time.
“He was an annoying fish, we never got along with each other when we were younger, but I still managed to catch feelings for him.”
“Childhood friends?”
“Not really… We met at 15. I sorta kicked him to the ground the first day we met…”
“Oh…”
Chuuya could tell from Fyodor’s side stare that he was relieved that he didn’t experience that when he first approached him.
“We grew up in the same house. We were kinda forced to work with each other, things happened, and I thought we were going great when we turned 16. He asked me out.”
Chuuya sadly laughed to himself, thinking back to it, why did he ever believe him in the first place?
“He was a manipulative bastard. All our miss—our group work he would know how to get the best marks. I hated it but I loved him.”
“Then once we turned 18, things… started to change. Our relationship became more distant. I didn’t notice it then but the reason why we were close in the first place was that we didn’t have any friends originally. So when he found some friends, we kinda split apart.”
“That’s rather selfish of him,” Fyodor replied.
Chuuya tried his best to make it light-hearted.
“Yeah, but then one day, we got into an argument. I finally told him about how I truly felt about our relationship. I guess I got him on a bad day because we were screaming at each other’s faces soon enough.”
“Then what happened next?”
“He just told me that he never felt anything for me. Those years we spent together were all meaningless to him.” Chuuya held back in tears and exhaled a shaky breath, “and then I snapped and sorta slapped him in the face…”
“Oh.”
“Then we broke up the next day because he disappeared the night after without saying anything to me.”
“And this was?”
“Four years ago… he’s already moved on, so it doesn’t really matter anymore.”
Fyodor stopped, softly taking Chuuya’s hand, “What are you—?”
He interjected, “Not true. Your feelings are valid, Chuuya. They are important, you may think you're at fault but you are not.”
“Fyodor—”
Fyodor pulled his hand towards his lips, lightly kissing the back of his hand.
“Your feelings are important to me.”
Fuck. That weird feeling again?!
Chuuya pulled his hand away and looked at the surprised expression on his face, “Sorry… I just…”
“No, I’m sorry for doing that,” Fyodor said, opening the gap between them.
Chuuya hated how the cold resurfaced again.
I don’t like it.
I don’t like how he is so nice to me.
One step.
He wanted to step up the staircase, away from thinking about the past.
“Fyodor.”
“What’s wrong, Chuuya?”
He didn’t look in his direction and bumped hips with him, reclosing the gap.
“I’m cold. Hold my hand.”
Fyodor looked down at Chuuya’s palm out to him, waiting for him to take it. It didn’t take him long, and held it tightly, pulling him closer with Chuuya’s head hitting Fyodor’s shoulder (barely).
“Are you warm now, moy dorogoy?” He whispered softly, his warm breathing hitting against his ear.
“Yeah… thanks…”
What did he just say?
They made it to what seemed to be Fyodor’s place, and also meant the end of their conversation to Chuuya’s dismay.
Fyodor slid away from the coat and draped it back onto Chuuya, “This is where I live.”
He looked up, not surprised for someone like him to be living in such a high-class hotel.
Chuuya stared back at the Russian. “It’s a nice place… I guess it’s also time for me to go as well. It was nice meeting you, Fyodor.”
Before Chuuya could leave, it was Fyodor’s turn to grab onto his wrist and pull him back.
“What—”
“Please, stay for the night. It’s quite cold and dark outside. It would be rather dangerous to go out at night and I cannot see you out there on your own.”
He looked desperately into his blue eyes. “Please stay with me, Chuuya-san.”
Chuuya tensed up, finding it hard to get words out of his mouth for once.
Oh shit. How am I supposed to say no?
He didn’t want to tell him that he could easily fly home and won’t need to encounter anyone dangerous but seeing him begging him to stay…
He burst out laughing.
“Chuuya-san?” Fyodor asked with a confused look.
Chuuya punched him lightly in the shoulder, “How many times do I have to tell you not to call me that? You’re such an idiot,” he smiled back and began to walk ahead of Fyodor.
Maybe I can move on.
Who needed him anyway? He was happy with what he had going for him. A new start never hurt anyone.
“Goodbye, Chuuya.”
He turned back. “Come on, aren’t you gonna show me around?”
It took a few seconds for Fyodor to realise what Chuuya was implying. He smiled and caught up with him, his hand behind his waist.
“Of course, Chuuya.”
I’m finally letting you go.
Chuuya closed his eyes with a smile of accomplishment.
Goodbye, Dazai.