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Chuuya is eighteen years old, which means he can legally make his own decisions and no one can force him to do otherwise. He wishes that would apply to his family though, because his brother and Rimbaud aren’t going to give up on their idea so quickly. Which is fucking stupid, if he is asken his opinion. But apparently he is the idiot for not sensing the danger of trusting Dazai, and now he has to go through it without complaining.
The problem started when Chuuya received a text from Verlaine, informing – not even asking – him that he and Rimbaud were coming to Yokohama for business and they had thought of spending some time with Chuuya as well.
Now, that would not have been a problem. If only Verlaine hadn’t decided that Chuuya was the one who was gonna offer them a place to stay in the meantime.
“You must be joking,” Chuuya texted Verlaine as a reply.
“Why would I?” Verlaine retorted almost immediately, “I wanna spend some time with my beloved little brother.”
“You don’t give a shit, you two are just too lazy to find a place to stay,” Chuuya texted.
Verlaine’s reply had been a vocal message. Chuuya sighed and pressed the play button.
“Hello, Chuuya, it’s Arthur Rimbaud here,” the voice said, only making Chuuya sigh even louder, “And what you said is not true at all. Both me and Paul do care about you and we would be extremely grateful to stay at your place.”
“What if I lived with someone else?” Chuuya typed back, “Maybe I have a boyfriend and I haven’t told you.”
“I have my sources and that’s not true,” said Verlaine’s text, “Just give up already, Chuuya. We’ll be there in two weeks.”
Unfortunately, the two weeks have passed. It is the day of Chuuya’s eccentric brother and his even weirder boyfriend’s arrival, and when Chuuya sees them actually on their way, he is ready to smack his head against the wall.
Of course Verlaine is angrily talking about something and Rimbaud is listening as if his life depends on it – which is not necessarily wrong. Once he sees Chuuya waiting for them outside the Port Mafia’s building he lives in, though, he tells Verlaine something and they both wave to him, clearly happy to see him.
Verlaine doesn’t bother to ask for Chuuya’s permission before hugging him – and lifting him up as if he weighed nothing – and commenting on his height. Rimbaud hugs him as well, even tighter but at least without insulting his small stature.
The idea of having the couple around for the following few days doesn’t actually bother Chuuya that much – probably because Rimbaud is there, since he is the only person Verlaine actually listens to – or at least he thought it wouldn’t. Then, dinner time arrives.
After spending the afternoon in their usual chaos, Verlaine and Rimbaud finally settle down and go to a café near Chuuya’s house. They are meant to be there for business, Chuuya reminds them cocking an eyebrow, but Verlaine dismisses him saying that they can start doing all the paperwork the next day.
Rimbaud and Verlaine come back home for dinner, which Chuuya doesn’t really mind cooking. He had learned how to prepare a lot of different meals in no time, considering how little Dazai ate if the responsibility was up to him.
“Thank you, Chuuya.” Rimbaud says as Chuuya brought the food on the table. “It looks amazing, and I’m sure it tastes even better.”
Verlaine doesn’t say anything, keeping his eyes strictly focused on the spoon he is holding in his hand. Rimbaud looks at him before rolling his eyes.
“No problem,” Chuuya decides to ignore what is going on. “I wouldn’t say cooking is my passion, but I’ve learned how to. You must know at least the basis to enjoy wine, you know.”
“Do you still drink that much?” Rimbaud gives him his best “I’m-not-proud-of-you”-dad look. “Wine isn’t good for your health, especially when you are so young.”
“Speaking of wine, I brought you this bottle straight from France.” Verlaine speaks for the first time, showing Chuuya the bottle. “I know you’re a sucker for it.”
“Paul.” Rimbaud scolds him, exasperated.
“I’m his older brother,” Verlaine shrugs, as if it’s a reasonable justification. “It’s my duty to ruin his health as much as I can.”
“Thank you so much for the wine, Verlaine.” Chuuya completely ignores Rimbaud. “Can we drink it now?”
“It shouldn’t go bad with the meal you cooked, so why not.” Verlaine happily agrees.
“I can tell you why not.” Rimbaud sounds slightly disappointed. “Chuuya is only eighteen and he already drinks like a divorced dad of three who has lost his job at the supermarket.”
“Arthur, we are French.” Verlaine replies. “Europeans. Drinking is our fucking job.”
“I haven’t finished.” Rimbaud keeps saying. “As I said, Chuuya is young. But you, you can’t even drink two glasses without going insane. Your tolerance to alcohol is basically a joke.”
Chuuya pays attention not to mention he isn’t exactly a drinking master as well. He isn’t saying anything, actually. Mostly because he wants to see who would win, but also because Verlaine and Rimbaud arguing is always fucking hilarious.
“Who said I can’t tolerate alcohol?” Verlaine’s pride kicks in.
“I have multiple proofs on my phone.” Rimbaud replies just as easily.
“Maybe that’s because I was messing with you and pretended to be drunk.” Verlaine retorts.
Rimbaud looks ready to keep arguing, but then he seems to change his mind. Instead, he sighs.
“Fine.” he says. “Do whatever you want. You guys are adults and can take care of yourself especially since I am not the babysitter of any of you two.”
“And he gave in.” Verlaine smirks, before looking at his brother. “Do you still wanna drink the wine?”
“Of course.” Chuuya smiles.
“Cheers, Chuuya.” Verlaine offers him a full glass.
“Cheers, Verlaine.” he replies.
***
“You should totally come to France, Chuuya,” Verlaine is explaining with the most serious voice possible, considering he is blatantly drunk. “There are clothes.”
“It might surprise you, but there are clothes in Japan as well.” Chuuya replies. “Or do I look like I’m fucking naked.”
Rimbaud rolls his eyes for the seventh time.
“No, but French clothes are better.” Verlaine says. “They are cool.”
“I think what he is trying to say is that he likes French fashion more than Japanese fashion.” Rimbaud patiently translates Drunk-Japanese.
“Yes, this.” Verlaine gestures towards Rimbaud. “Look at Arthur, Chuuya. Look at how handsome he looks. It’s the clothing.”
“I’m not sure if this is a compliment or an insult, but either way go ahead.” Rimbaud encourages him. “I want to see how you get out of this situation, since almost nothing I’m wearing is typical French fashion.”
“Look at his shirt.” Verlaine ignores him. “It’s white.”
“Who would have guessed.” Chuuya sarcastically comments.
“And it’s thin, but you still can’t see his abs.” Verlaine keeps going. “It’s a shame. His abs are so beautiful.”
“What the fuck is he saying.” Chuuya tilts his head to face Rimbaud.
“I have no idea,” he replies, as perplexed as Chuuya. “But, unfortunately, I doubt he will stop.”
“Yes, like, look at his hair.” Verlaine “explains” again. “It’s so cute. I like it on my fingers.”
Chuuya chokes on water. Rimbaud looks like he wants to die.
“And it’s a shame that the pants he is wearing tonight don’t let him show his thighs.” Verlaine adds.
“I think that’s enough wine for tonight, Paul.” Rimbaud tries to act calm, even though you can tell he’s extremely embarrassed.
“His thighs are so soft against my face.” Verlaine mumbles.
“Enough, Paul,” Rimbaud repeats, voice a little sharper now, his cheeks flushing.
Verlaine agrees to shut up, but he wraps his arms around Rimbaud’s torso and buries his face in the crook of his neck. He’s probably muttering something Chuuya can’t hear, because Rimbaud’s expression visibly changes and he becomes even redder in the face.
Chuuya has seen enough. He brutally stands up and steps away from the table, looking – or pretending to look – for something.
“Where are you going?” Rimbaud asks, unease clear in his voice.
“Out.” Chuuya replies, quickly grabbing his phone and keys. “I’ll be back in the morning.”
“You don’t need to.” Rimbaud sounds exasperated.
“Goodnight to both of you.” Chuuya cuts the conversation short, slamming the door behind him.
He runs down the stairs as fast as he can and soon he’s in the street. He doesn’t even want to think about what he just witnessed, so he decides to focus on finding a place to sleep tonight. He already knows where he’s gonna end up, but he hopes he’ll have a more brilliant idea.
He doesn’t.
With a sigh, Chuuya begins to walk towards Dazai’s house.
***
Dazai only lives a couple of minutes away from Chuuya’s apartment, so it doesn’t take long before he arrives. Luckily, since it’s really cold outside and Chuuya can feel himself freezing. He knocks on the door and he hears a voice from inside.
“I swear Ango, if you’re here again to gossip, I’m not even opening the door.” Dazai threatens.
“You shithead. It’s Chuuya.” he rolls his eyes.
Chuuya doesn’t receive an answer but a couple of seconds later the door opens and he sees Dazai, still wearing his working suit.
“It’s late, mackerel.” Chuuya notices. “You should be asleep.”
“And you should be home with Wannabe Rapunzel and Pantene Testimonial.” Dazai retorts. “Why are you here?”
“Things didn’t turn out really well.” he has to admit. “I need a place to sleep.”
“They kicked you out of your own house?” Dazai smirks mockingly.
“They didn’t kick me out, fuckmunch!” Chuuya snaps. “Verlaine got drunk and began to say weird shit about Rimbaud. He tried to stop him, but I didn’t feel comfortable, so I left. Will you let me in?”
Dazai moves, so that Chuuya can enter the house. He knows that apartment well, since he spends almost half his time there. He doesn’t bother asking before throwing himself on the couch, while Dazai follows him curiously.
“What kind of weird shit?” Dazai asks, sitting on the carpet and crossing his legs.
“I don’t know. He was wasted. Stuff about his hands, his thighs, can’t remember. Rimbaud was close to passing out from embarrassment.” Chuuya answers, eyes shut.
“Did you leave because you were afraid they would have sex?” Dazai says, a hint of delight in his voice.
“You think it’s fucking funny, don’t you.” Chuuya says. “And no, by the way. Rimbaud would never.”
“They are dating, Chuuya.” Dazai reminds him. “I think it’s normal.”
“That’s not what I meant.” Chuuya exclaims. “I just don’t think they would when my brother’s drunk and they are at my place. Rimbaud wouldn’t let him.”
“But you still came here.” Dazai says.
“That conversation fucking traumatized me.” Chuuya retorts. “I’m sleeping here tonight. And for all the time they will stay in Yokohama.”
“Which is how long?” Dazai frowns.
“Ten days.” Chuuya answers.
“Absolutely not.” Dazai decides. “Tomorrow the three of you sit down together and calmly talk about this. You’re getting out of my house in eight hours.”
“Someone has something to hide?” Chuuya teases.
“Someone doesn’t want Chuuya to be with them after work too.” Dazai dramatically sighs. “I can’t lower my head every time someone talks to me, or my neck will break.”
Chuuya is close to throwing a pillow at him, but then he has a better idea.
“Help me deal with them.” Chuuya says. “Please.”
“Do you think my opinion has relevance in all of this?” Dazai cocks an eyebrow. “What would I do?”
“I don’t know,” Chuuya replies. “But for you it’s easy to make people uncomfortable.”
“You’re always so sweet, chibi.” Dazai says.
Chuuya pauses. Dazai is being sarcastic. He must be really pissed off to lose his composure. Maybe Chuuya can take advantage of it.
“We could give them tit for tat.” Chuuya mumbles. “So my brother will stop being a dick.”
Dazai doesn’t say anything. He clearly wants to know what Chuuya is thinking about before sharing his opinion.
“If you help me,” Chuuya carefully says. “I’m sure we’ll be just as annoying as they are. You just need to get along with what I say and I’ll do the same.”
“You aren’t asking me to pretend I’m your boyfriend only to piss them off, are you?” Dazai asks.
“Just for a couple of days.” Chuuya admits.
“Chuuya.” Dazai says. “We hate each other. Who would believe us?”
“It’s not like we have to act like we’re dating around everyone.” Chuuya specifies. “Verlaine and Rimbaud don’t come around a lot. I would understand if we were talking about Mori or someone who knows us, but the last time I saw my brother was six months ago. I think you still haven’t met them again since we defeated Verlaine.”
Dazai thinks about it for one or two seconds. For most people it would have meant very little time, but for Dazai it was unlikely to show he didn’t already have a plan.
“Okay, but only if you promise that as soon as you reach your goal you go back to your place.” Dazai says.
Chuuya is tempted to say “do you think I like staying here?” but he holds himself back not to lose this surprising opportunity. Instead, he nods.
“And we’re doing it my way.” Dazai adds with a cruel smile, the kind of smirk he only has when he’s plotting something.
Chuuya knows he is signing up for a disaster. Yet, he can’t do anything but agree to the second condition as well.
***
Two days later, someone is knocking on Chuuya’s apartment door. As soon as he hears it, Rimbaud lights up.
“Is it Osamu?” he asks, excitement clear in his voice. “Is he already here?”
“I don’t fucking know.” Chuuya replies. “Why don’t you go check the door?”
“Of course.” Rimbaud giggles, doing as instructed.
Chuuya has casually mentioned that he “is dating Dazai” yesterday, and Rimbaud hasn’t stopped talking about it ever since. He has repeated that he wants to meet him and was on cloud nine when Chuuya suggested having dinner together. Rimbaud was practically jumping with joy, and Verlaine didn’t seem to mind. He was probably still getting second hand embarrassment from the day before.
Rimbaud opens the door. Dazai, with his fakest smile, is standing outside pretending friendliness.
“Good evening, Rimbaud.” he cheerfully says, ready to shake his hand.
“Hello, Osamu!” Rimbaud exclaims, ignoring his hand and hugging him instead. “It’s so nice to meet again!”
Dazai freezes in shock, but not even a second later he is back to his happy face. He takes a look at the living room.
“Where’s Chuuya?” he asks casually.
“He was on the couch one minute ago,” Rimbaud says, disappointed. “While Paul was in the bedroom reading.”
After Rimbaud yells to come greet Dazai, Chuuya and Verlaine reluctantly join them. Verlaine manages to mumble a “hi” and nods, which Rimbaud’s attentive glance seems to accept. Then it comes to Chuuya, and he understands he is screwed.
Dazai is staring at him, obviously not collaborating. Rimbaud and Verlaine think they’re dating, so they probably expect them to kiss each other as a greeting. It’s the last thing Chuuya wants to do, but Dazai has been clear: he is only going do this if Chuuya plays by his rules. At the moment he is hiding a smirk that Chuuya can only recognize thanks to the four years they’ve been working together.
Chuuya wants to punch him. Instead, he takes a deep breath and leans out to kiss him.
He does the bare minimum, lightly pressing their lips together before pulling away after one second, but Dazai still seems surprised that he has actually done this. Chuuya is more stubborn than he predicted. Well, this means he can go even further with his ideas for the evening.
“Good evening, Osamu.” Chuuya forces himself to say, radiating hate from every word.
“Good evening to you, Chuuya.” Dazai replies, unaffected, “So, what’s for dinner?”
***
Apparently, Rimbaud and Verlaine are getting along well with Dazai. Yet, Chuuya knows he is witnessing the most insincere show Dazai has ever put on. He only hopes it will end soon, since they aren’t making any actual progress to send the intruders away.
Chuuya forces himself to focus back on the conversation.
“I think I have to apologize to Chuuya.” Verlaine is saying right now. “When you said you had a boyfriend, I didn’t think you were meaning it. I just assumed you didn’t want me to stay at your place but I really should have known better.”
“Well, luckily for you I still live in the same apartment as ever.” Dazai replies without hesitation. “But we were planning to move in together, right, Chuu?”
“Of course, darling.” Chuuya makes an excessively sweet smile, that Rimbaud doesn’t call out. He has either figured out they’re faking everything or is too blind to notice.
In fact, it’s most likely the second, since he chuckles and starts talking.
“You two guys remind me of Paul and me.” he tells them with his bubbly voice. “We used to argue so much when we were younger. I’m glad you two finally get along.”
“We really do.” Dazai says, matching his tone. Chuuya is pretty sure that now he is mostly doing it to mess with them, rather than because he asked him to help.
“And why, among all the other people, did you choose my brother?” Verlaine asks, more of a mocking question than a genuine one. “And viceversa, same goes for you, Chuuya.”
“I’m not really a person you easily get along with” Dazai dismisses the question easily. “I only consider close a couple of friends of mine.”
“They’re his drinking buddies.” Chuuya adds. “He’s okay with this Ango dude, but his favorite is definitely this guy called Oda. He talks about him all the damn time.”
“He just knows me so well.” Dazai justifies himself. “And he’s really nice. Not like some short ginger of my acquaintance.”
“Maybe it’s because some walking waste of bandages doesn’t let out a single fucking emotion.” Chuuya retorts. “While he just seems to adore his precious Odasaku.”
Rimbaud is freezing, clearly uncomfortable. Verlaine seems more amused now than he’s been all evening.
“So, the question lingers.” Verlaine giggles. “Why did you two choose each other, if Dazai prefers Oda?”
Chuuya suddenly remembers they are being watched and quickly changes his expression to his usual one. He doesn’t say anything though, and he is grateful when Dazai decides to be the one to handle the situation.
“I don’t prefer Oda.” Dazai says, even though Chuuya knows he does. “Chuuya and I often have our little arguments, but deep down we love each other. Furthermore, I would never date any of my other friends. Odasaku is like an older brother to me, in addition to this he is dating Ango.”
“Why don’t you tell us about them?” Rimbaud asks, looking more at ease.
“Well, Odasaku is an extremely interesting person and he’s generally kind, but when he thinks I’m going too far with my jokes he tells me to shut up.” Dazai begins to explain, visibly happy to talk about his friends.
“He’s the only one Osamu listens to.” Chuuya interrupts him; if they must pretend they’re dating, he wants to be one of those couples who embarrass each other every other minute.
“That is not true!” Dazai replies, “In fact, I don’t listen to him either. Ango is more testy though, which makes it ten times funnier to piss him off. But he knows how to be funny as well. Let’s just say that they work well as a couple, but I only see them as my family.”
“As your family?” Rimbaud asks what apparently is an innocent question, and Dazai, not seeing what’s coming, happily nods.
Rimbaud looks at Verlaine with something that only his boyfriend seems to understand. His eyes widen in what almost looks like fear.
“Arthur, no. Please, please, please, Arthur.” Verlaine begs, shaking his head.
“Consider this your punishment for the other day.” Rimbaud sternly says, before switching to a more cheerful, yet still fear-inspiring, tone. “My dearest boys, would you mind to call those friends Osamu just told us about?”
When they stare at him with a confused expression, he laughs it off and explains himself better.
“I was just thinking that Osamu thinks of Oda and Ango as his family and we are Chuuya’s, and since Paul and I are going to stay in Yokohama for very few days, it would be really nice if we could manage to meet.” Rimbaud says with the happiest expression he’s had all evening. “Of course you two are still very young, but you have such chemistry wich each other. Paul and I would be extremely happy to meet the people who matter the most for Chuuya’s boyfriend!”
His tone is light, but it’s obvious that he won’t accept a no as an answer. Chuuya, giving Dazai his most hateful look, grinds his teeth and gestures to Dazai to go ahead, since now the damage is done. Dazai doesn’t say anything to Chuuya, knowing that he deserves it. Instead, he replies to Rimbaud.
“Of course, Rimbaud.” he smiles, picking up the phone. “I’ll call Odasaku now.”
The phone rings a few times before someone picks up. Dazai puts on the speakerphone.
“It’s Oda Sakunosuke.” the voice from the phone says.
“Hey, Odasaku!” Dazai greets, cheerfulness only subtly fake.
“Dazai?” Oda sounds confused. “Why are you calling at ten pm? Don’t tell me you just failed another attempt and I have to pick you up.”
“Oh my god, that little fucker again.” Ango’s voice complains in the background.
“Don’t worry, I’m safe and sound at Chuuya’s place.” Dazai forces himself to laugh, ignoring Ango.
“I thought you guys hated each other.” Oda sounds even more confused. “Last weekend you were telling me that he hung you from the ceiling again and told you to eat shit and die.”
“You know he’s always like this.” Dazai tries to pull it off. “Telling me to kill myself is his love language.”
“Either you’re drunk or it’s too late for all of us.” Ango cuts it short. “Why don’t you call again tomorrow?”
“Good evening, mister Oda, mister Ango.” Rimbaud decides to interfere. “It’s a pleasure to talk to you.”
“Dazai, are you at the police station?” Oda now is more worried than weirded out. “Have you been kidnapped? What is going on?”
“Arthur, all of this is ridiculous.” Verlaine complains. “Please leave them alone.”
“Who was that?” Ango asks.
“No, you asked for it.” Rimbaud shuts Verlaine, before talking to Oda and Ango. “My name is Arthur Rimbaud and the one you just heard was Paul Verlaine, Chuuya’s brother.”
“Wasn’t he the one who tried to kill Chuuya’s friends a couple years ago?” Ango asks what is probably a genuine question but makes everyone in the room uncomfortable.
“We’re over it,” Chuuya cuts it short.
“Chuuya, you’re there too!” Ango exclaims, slightly happier since Chuuya is the one he gets along with the most. “Hello!”
“Hi, Ango.” Chuuya tries not to get second hand embarrassment. “Rimbaud, I’m begging you, can you and Dazai end this call already? Nobody is enjoying it.”
He isn’t wrong. Verlaine has been holding his face in his hands for the past five or so minutes, Dazai is visibly tired despite all his efforts and Chuuya is dangerously close to throwing something against someone.
“Paul, Osamu and I were having dinner at Chuuya’s home tonight, when Osamu told us about you and how he considers you two his family. Since we are also the closest thing to a family Chuuya has, we were thinking about having dinner all together to meet. Since our boys are dating, you know.” Rimbaud quickly sums up.
There are a few seconds of silence, before two different questions break it.
“He thinks we are his what?” Ango says incredulously.
“Dazai and Chuuya are dating?” is what Oda says instead.
“I have to go to the bathroom.” a third voice, Verlaine, announces, running away from the dining room before Rimbaud can yell him to sit back down.
“We don’t mention it a lot,” Dazai explains, more to Rimbaud than to Oda. “But yes. We have been dating for a while.”
If Chuuya didn’t know he was lying, he would believe him too.
“He called us his family, Sakunosuke.” Ango tries to get Oda’s attention. “We’re screwed with this kid for the rest of our lives.”
“I’m still trying to process the dating thing.” Oda says.
“I am too young to be a father!” Ango becomes hysterical. “I don’t want that creature to consider me his wise uncle or anything!”
“Our kid has a boyfriend…” Oda, instead, sounds touched. “He grows up so quickly…”
Dazai is loudly banging his head against the table. Chuuya’s anger exceeds the limits.
“Long story short, how about we all have dinner together on Saturday?” Chuuya decides to take the matter into his own hands. “It’s been a pleasure talking to you, now goodnight.”
He hangs up before anyone can react. Rimbaud is speechless. Dazai still hasn’t stopped slamming his forehead on the table. Chuuya would love to see him passing away from it, but unfortunately he has to spare his life to have the pleasure of killing him later. Without much kindness, Chuuya grabs a lock of Dazai’s hair to stop him.
“Hey,” Verlaine appears from the corridor, back from the bathroom. “What did I miss?”
***
It’s Saturday night and Dazai regrets not trying to commit suicide earlier. Now he is waiting for Oda and Ango to pick him up and go to the restaurant Rimbaud chose – he used to like the guy, but now he’s rethinking his choices.
For some reason, after the initial shock, his friends seemed happy to acknowledge that Dazai and Chuuya are “dating” – which only means it’s going to be even harder to “break up” once all this shit is over – and gladly accepted Rimbaud’s invitation. Verlaine didn’t look particularly excited for the dinner but he probably decided that the better he behaves the sooner it’s going to be over. It makes Dazai smile a little when he thinks that this is the same Verlaine that almost destroyed Yokohama and the whole world two years ago. It’s not going to be a boring evening for sure.
The brusque horn of Ango’s car signals Dazai that they’ve arrived. He takes a deep breath and gets out of the apartment. Once he’s outside he gets in the car – on the passenger seat, since for some reason Oda is sitting on the back one – and he puts on his cheerful face.
“You know, Ango, other people live in this neighborhood.” he lightheartedly says. “You might have bothered someone with that horn.”
“As if you didn’t have enough authority to suppress any eventual complaint.” Ango points out. “Hello to you too, by the way.”
“Hello.” Dazai smiles, turning around. “Hi, Odasaku.”
Oda is silently staring at him, with his angry expression. Dazai knows it’s all an act, though; he’s seen Oda being genuinely angry, and this is not the case.
“What’s wrong, Odasaku?” Dazai asks, playing his part. “You look upset.”
“You didn’t tell us you were dating Chuuya.” Oda frowns, crossing his hands but yet smiling. “We would have celebrated. Maybe we’d have thrown a party or something.”
“And this is the exact reason why I didn’t tell you.” Dazai replies. “Other than Chuuya not wanting Mori to know.”
“He didn’t have problems telling the French people, though.” Ango expresses his disappointment with the mocking nickname.
“Maybe it’s because Verlaine is his brother?” Dazai sarcastically suggests.
“And so? Didn’t you say we’re like a family to you?” Oda teases, back to his small proud smile.
“Rimbaud likes to overstate things.” Dazai skillfully dismisses him. “By the way, I’m not sure if you guys actually have an idea how this dinner is going to be. I only met them as a couple once and it was enough to exhaust me.”
“We’ll show them we aren’t any less, then.” Ango’s competitive streak kicks in. “We can be just as proud dads for you as they are for Chuuya.”
“That’s what I wanted to hear.” Oda adds up. “And we’re already winning, since we didn’t try to destroy the world.”
“Oh my god.” Dazai sighs. “Don’t pick up a fight with them, especially with Rimbaud.”
“I thought Verlaine was the dangerous one.” Oda comments.
“Yes, but he doesn’t care about this dinner.” Dazai explains. “Rimbaud is the one who we should fear. He was scaring me the other day, both with Verlaine and with Chuuya and I.”
“Whatever, we’re here and we’ll handle it.” Ango cuts it short, as he parks the car, before adding with a mocking tone. “Get off, Dazai. I’m sure you’re looking forward to seeing your boyfriend.”
***
Dazai and his somehow-part-time-dads walk among the tables, looking for the number sixteen. Dazai is the first one who finds it, not because he saw the number but because he could recognize Chuuya’s horribly carrot-like hair. He points to the table and he, Ango and Oda reach it.
As they approach the table, Dazai can notice how differently the people sitting there feel. Rimbaud has seen them and is kindly waving his hand with a bright smile, obviously the happiest of all three. Verlaine is distractly imitating his boyfriend’s gesture, not smiling and with a hint of boredom in his eyes. Chuuya has his arms crossed and refuses to look up from the floor. Dazai wants to take a picture, but decides to act as if he isn’t delighted by the sight.
“Good evening,” Oda politely smiles, offering his hand to Rimbaud. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”
Rimbaud shakes his hand, throwing a dirty look at Verlaine. He sighs and does the same with Ango.
“My name is Paul Verlaine.” he introduces himself. “I’m Chuuya’s brother.”
“We’ve heard of you.” Ango says, acting casual. “The guy who almost offed Yokohama’s whole population, right?”
Rimbaud and Oda freeze in shock, but Verlaine’s eyes light up. Nobody has ever challenged him back in the previous days, but now he thinks he’s going to actually enjoy the dinner.
“You must be Ango, then.” Verlaine retorts. “Aren’t you the one who disowned Dazai during our phone call?”
“I think it’s enough, guys,” Rimbaud forces himself to laugh. “But it’s nice to see that you two get along.”
Dazai is attentively scanning Chuuya, so he notices when the boy rolls his eyes and shifts his position on the chair a little. Dazai sits on the opposite side of the table, so then they’re face to face. Oda chooses the middle seat, with Ango on his left, Dazai on his right and Rimbaud in front of him. In absence of choice, Ango is now facing Verlaine.
“So,” Rimbaud tries to start a conversation. “I didn’t really know which place to pick, but Chuuya said this one is nice. Have you guys already been here?”
“A couple times.” Oda replies. “I’d say it’s average, unless you like spicy food. In that case it’s one of the best in Yokohama.”
“Is this why you recommended it, chibi?” Dazai begins his all-evening-long teasing. “You and your taste in food.”
Chuuya is about to reply that Dazai fucking likes spicy food as well, but Verlaine speaks first.
“How about you tell us how you two begin to date?” he suggests. “Since we’re all here because of you two.”
Rimbaud shoots him a grateful look, which is probably what Verlaine was aiming for. He still managed to sound rude, but that’s not a surprise. Chuuya answers the question.
“I can’t really remember.” he decides to say. “It happened a few months ago, so…”
“I do remember” Dazai interrupts him. “Chuuya was drunk. You know, whenever he has a problem he comes to my place.”
It’s clearly a provocation, but Chuuya doesn’t pick it up.
“He blurted out something like that he had a crush on him and that he wanted to kiss me.” Dazai tells with an impressive spontaneity. “I know he’s an honest drunk, so it was true. The following day, I told Chuuya I liked him back, even though at the beginning it was only to mess with him.”
“You were lying?” Chuuya tries to sound offended. He shouldn’t be having this much fun with this fib they’ve been coming up with, but he is.
“I admit it.” Dazai dramatically says. “But then I began to actually enjoy your attention and the time we spent together. You know, it’s not the same as working together. You’re much nicer when you’re not stressed out for a mission.”
Chuuya is taken by surprise by how sincere Dazai’s voice sounds. He would say he’s being honest, but the four years he’s spent quarreling with Dazai can’t be denied. He quickly shifts back to a more neutral expression.
“I’m not surprised.” Oda comments on their “touching” story. “Dazai isn’t new to poker faces. What really amazes me is that he actually showed some human feelings.”
Dazai frowns a little at the term “human”, and Chuuya sees that Verlaine isn’t too happy with it as well. Oda probably didn’t mean to create tension, so Chuuya quickly changes the topic.
“How about we choose what to eat, before continuing the conversation?” he suggests. “I’ve seen two different waiters wander around our table at least five times.”
“Sure." Ango replies, immediately hiding behind his menu.
For the most peaceful minutes of the evening, everyone stays silent, choosing their dinner. It doesn’t take long before Chuuya makes up his mind, so he quickly looks at Verlaine. He looks bored as well, quietly playing with his knife and fork. Chuuya doesn’t look away, so they make eye contact pretty easily. Chuuya doesn’t know if it’s because they’re siblings or something, but it seems like they can communicate just with their eyes. Verlaine puts the cutlery down and sends a silent message to Chuuya. He somehow understands and he has to refrain from laughing, as he nods. Verlaine smiles as well.
Chuuya receives a kick from under the table and he breaks eye contact. Verlaine goes back to mindlessly staring at his menu, while Chuuya looks at Dazai, who kicked him. Dazai is looking at him with an interrogative gaze, but Chuuya tries to keep his own as neutral as possible. He doesn’t want Dazai to understand what he and Verlaine have just communicated to each other. Dazai eventually gives up, allowing Chuuya to relax.
A waiter arrives and asks them if they have decided what they want to eat. Once they’ve all made their decision, they tell the waiter and in a few minutes he’s going away with their orders, leaving Chuuya and Dazai with those four psychopaths they’re stuck with for the night.
“We were talking about Chuuya and Dazai earlier,” Ango surprisingly breaks the ice. “But how did you two meet?”
Ango’s question only has a hint of genuineness, but Rimbaud either doesn’t notice or doesn’t care. Verlaine is a little more at unease, but he doesn’t comment.
“I thought it was common knowledge that I’m one of the scientists who helped refining Paul, and Chuuya’s, identities.” Rimbaud says, as a matter of fact but still being extremely delicate about it. “Paul and I ended up working together as partners, which led to spending a lot of time together. I guess it just happened.”
“So we’re the only ones at this table who met casually, aren’t we, Ango?” Oda smiles.
As the conversation keeps going, Dazai stops paying attention. Everything is too boring and sappy and he hates it. Chuuya and Verlaine look bored as well, while Oda and Ango seem to get along well with Rimbaud. At the moment they’re all laughing together and Verlaine is pretending to be interested. Luckily, Dazai is saved from the conversation by the waiter, who comes back with their food.
“That looks good.” Verlaine comments. “We should thank Chuuya for bringing us here.”
“There’s no need to.” Chuuya replies, but with a huge smile.
Dazai wonders when Chuuya and Verlaine started to get along. He doesn’t remember Chuuya being anything but just as polite as he had to with Verlaine. Maybe their relationship is just complicated.
“Well, enjoy your meal, then.” Rimbaud says with the happiest smile Dazai has seen all evening.
Oda doesn’t say anything and just nods, while Ango replies with “enjoy” before eating his food. And, as soon as he swallows it, Dazai knows something is wrong.
Ango’s eyes visibly waden, his face becomes redder and he forcefully grabs the towel. Oda notices almost immediately and his gaze quickly shifts from neutral to concerned. He grabs the nearest glass of water and gives it to Ango.
“Are you okay? Can you breathe?” Oda asks, worried, gently patting on his back.
“Water won’t do much.” Rimbaud says. “He should drink milk, but I don’t think they have it. Try with some of my wine, here.”
Rimbaud passes the glass to Oda, who thanks him with his eyes. Ango takes a long sip and after a few seconds he looks more relaxed, even his cheeks are back to a normal pink.
“They didn’t say it was spicy.” Ango finally says. “It wasn’t written on the menu, and I am pretty sure I paid attention before ordering.”
“We’re going to tell the waiter, then.” Oda’s voice sounds calm, but there’s a clear hint of anger in it.
“You don’t need to.” Ango replies. “But I appreciate it.”
“You could have been allergic.” Oda says, anger a little more audible this time. “And you could have died. They aren’t getting away with this.”
Oda is generally a quite friendly guy, but when someone lays a finger on someone he loves, he forgets all his politeness and it’s practically impossible to stop him. Dazai knows it well, and he silently watches Oda calling a waitress with a determined expression.
“How can I help you, sir?” the waitress asks, with a smile.
“On the menu it wasn’t written that the meal he ordered was spicy.” Oda goes straight to the point, eyes deadly serious while Dazai tries not to laugh. “And yet he almost passed out, didn’t he?”
Ango looks extremely embarrassed. Dazai finds it hilarious and is relieved when he notices that at least Chuuya and Verlaine look like they’re about to burst out laughing as well. Even Rimbaud, who’s clearly forcing himself to keep a neutral expression, shows the hint of a smile on the corner of his lips.
The waitress’ face goes blank and she excuses herself to go call the waiter who served their table. He arrives in a heartbeat and his colleague immediately steps back and goes serve another table. She clearly doesn’t want to have anything to do with this.
“I have been told there’s a problem.” the waiter says.
“There is. The food he’s been served wasn’t like the one that was written on the menu. It wasn’t said that it was spicy.” Oda starts.
“It wasn’t written on the menu, I know.” the waiter nods. “But I’ve been told to make that meal spicy. I received a little hand-written note and I figured out your friend had forgotten to specify he wanted it to be more spicy than it would normally be. Customers often do this, so I didn’t really think about it.”
“I sure as hell didn’t write that note.” Ango says. “Are you sure it was the right table?”
“Yes, sir.” the waiter replied, without losing his composure. “I still have the note.”
He shows everyone the note, and in fact he is not wrong. The number of the table, the name of Ango’s meal with “+ spice” addition, everything seems perfect. Ango and Oda look confused, while Rimbaud’s expression suddenly turns angry. He manages to hide it quickly and decides to intervene.
“Well, could you please bring our friend another of these but without the addition of spice?” he asks, in a casually cheerful tone, “Thank you.”
The waiter nods and steps away. As soon as Rimbaud is sure he can’t hear them anymore, he picks up the note the waiter left on the table and turns his head to face Verlaine.
“Paul, dear,” he says. “Would you please take a look at this note for me?”
“Sure.” Verlaine replies. He silently reads the note, as Rimbaud stares at him. Nobody dares to say a word.
“Do you notice anything weird?” Rimbaud asks again.
“It looks pretty normal to me.” Verlaine shrugs, looking back at his boyfriend.
“I figured it would. Maybe it’s because this is your fucking handwriting.” Rimbaud finally loses his patience.
Dazai had never heard Rimbaud swearing and he is deciding if he should laugh, cry or run as fast as he can. That man might be kind and welcoming, but Dazai thinks he’s extremely scary when he’s angry.
“You’re right!” Verlaine doesn’t look afraid in the least. “Silly me. That’s definitely my handwriting.”
Dazai quickly glares at Chuuya and he can practically feel his amusement. It suddenly hits him that this is what Chuuya and his brother were “discussing” earlier. The little bastards. They had planned everything.
“Would you like to explain yourself, Paul?” Rimbaud bursts out. “I think you owe all of us, and especially Ango, an explanation.”
“What can I say?” Verlaine coldly smiles, purposely fixing his gaze on Ango. “Maybe a lab experiment like me simply doesn’t know any better.”
Ango doesn’t know what to reply. Oda’s expression is carefully blank, while Rimbaud’s is shocked. Chuuya is hiding behind his glass, trying to pass as invisible. Dazai mentally sighs and decides it’s his turn to solve the situation.
“Verlaine, if you really pay attention you will figure out that half of the people sitting at this table aren’t biological human beings. If you think that the slightly competitive approach Ango had towards you is a sufficient reason to potentially attempt on his life, I am nobody to stop you. But if you want to have a normal dinner and perhaps befriend the people your brother cares about, I believe Ango is willing to forgive you and let go. Is it okay for you, Ango?” he says in his oddly calm tone.
“Yes,” Ango says, his eyes betraying what he’s just said. “I don’t want this evening to be ruined.”
“Fine.” Verlaine rolls his eyes. He would clearly prefer the dinner not to go on. “I apologize.”
“Amazing.” Dazai grins, before switching to his happy voice. “Did any of you watch some interesting fantasy movie for kids, those days? I think Mori is running out of ways to keep Elise busy and he asked me for help.”
While everyone begins to discuss their favorite animated cartoons, Dazai looks at Chuuya, not surprised when he sees he’s already staring.
“Was that really the best excuse you could come up with?” Chuuya quietly asks. “As if Mori would show any weakness, especially when it comes to Elise.”
“They don’t know him well like we do, Chuuya.” Dazai giggles. “By the way, what a cute prank you and Verlaine did. Siblings supporting each other, I guess.”
“Don’t you dare judge me or him,” Chuuya snorts. “You always do stuff like this.”
“Why do you assume I’m making fun of you?” Dazai dramatically whines. “I can’t even compliment you anymore.”
“Have you ever complimented me?” Chuuya asks, back to his usual arguing.
“I believe I once told you that you had chosen a nice pen set.” Dazai replies.
Chuuya tells Dazai something like “fuck off” or “fuck you” or “fuck this” – honestly anything that begins with “fuck” works, when it comes to Chuuya – and they keep chatting in a low voice not to be heard by the others. Dazai hates that he’s actually having fun. He and Chuuya never spend a lot of time together; Chuuya is friends with a group of young mafiosi called the Flags, while Dazai has Oda and Ango. They both enjoy their friendships and have never thought about hanging out when it’s not for their job. Damn it, now Dazai knows he’s going to miss it once their fake relationship is over.
“Hey Oda, do you think it’s fair that Chuuya and Osamu whisper all the time and never tell us what they’re saying?” Rimbaud jokes.
“Let them be.” Oda smiles. “They’re probably embarrassed to be seen with old guys like us.”
Chuuya resists the urge to roll his eyes and smiles instead. Dazai fakes a giggle and they go back to chatting all together.
The dinner proceeds and everything goes normally, talking about normal things and generally without too many outbursts by any of the presents. Rimbaud easily gets along with everyone, while Verlaine is mostly ignored by both Oda and Ango, the latter still clearly sulking.
It’s not time to go yet, since Dazai is more than determined to eat the dessert and he hasn’t bothered hiding it. The conversation switches to the classic “what’s your hobby” and Oda is talking.
“I don’t have a lot of activities to keep myself busy, actually.” he is saying. “I take care of a group of kids sometimes, though. They’re all children who have lost their parents and I just want them to feel okay. The only other hobby I can think of is when Ango, Dazai and I meet at the Lupin, especially when Dazai challenges us at one of his absurd competitions.”
“He has the craziest ideas.” Ango laughs. “The owner of the bar must hate us. We have destroyed three dart boards and we’ve probably broken half the glasses they had. Let’s just say that none of our ideas was actually a good one.”
“You’re forgetting yourself, Ango.” Dazai jumps in. “Do you remember that one time when I wanted to kill myself by drinking and you said that if you drank faster than me I had to stay alive for that night?”
“How could I forget?” Ango asks. “It was my most glorious moment.”
“If I hadn’t told them to drink water instead of whisky, they would have probably died anyway.” Oda specifies. “But I was impressed by how fastly Ango can drink.”
“He was looking deadly serious that day.” Ango justified himself. “I had to overcome him.”
“You know, Ango,” Verlaine casually mentions. “I can drink pretty quickly too. Sometimes Chuuya and I did our alcohol competitions and he always lost miserably.”
“First of all, that’s only because you’re taller than me.” Chuuya retorts.
“So you’re finally admitting you aren’t still growing?” Dazai fakes a gasp. “I can’t believe what I just witnessed.”
“Shut the fuck up.” Chuuya intimates. “And second of all, you can’t stand too much alcohol as well. Remember that we’re literally here because you couldn’t shut up about Rimbaud.”
“I think that’s enough, Chuuya.” Rimbaud scolds him.
“Yeah, but now I wanna see who wins this.” Ango interrupts them. “I can’t let my pride be wounded like this.”
“What are you suggesting?” Verlaine asks, cocking an eyebrow.
“I’ll go get a bottle of water and we’ll see who drinks more of it.” Ango states. “Who loses pays for the dinner.”
“Guys, this is ridiculous.” Rimbaud tries to say, only to be cut off.
“Deal.” Verlaine approves. “We’ll be waiting for you, Ango.”
Ango silently gets up and goes looking for a waiter that isn’t one of the two they’ve already spoken to. He’s shown his displeasure towards them multiple times this evening and he probably doesn’t want to talk to any of them again. Dazai doesn’t have this problem though, so he calls the waiter and orders the most expensive cheesecake there is on the menu. Chuuya threatens him to give him some and in the end Dazai gives up, agreeing.
As soon as Dazai’s cheesecake arrives, Ango is back with a one liter bottle of water in his hand. He slams it on the table before sitting down again, staring at Verlaine. Verlaine doesn’t look away, clearly impatient to show his drinking skills.
“Normally I would ask an impartial judge to serve the glasses,” Ango says. “But unfortunately, we don’t have any at this table. So how about I pour your glass and you pour mine?”
“Sounds fair to me.” Verlaine agrees.
Rimbaud is holding his head in his hands, resigned. Oda’s expression looks bored and tired. Dazai and Chuuya have never been this eager, eating their cheesecake in the most silent way possible.
“Are you ready?” Ango asks once they’ve poured each other’s glasses, almost so full that the water is spilling.
“Born ready.” Verlaine smirks.
“Let’s drink on three.” Ango suggests. “One, two, and three.”
In a few seconds, the liquid in both of their glasses is gone. In another few seconds, Verlaine’s face goes from “I won, motherfucker” to “I fucked up”.
“Arthur.” he calmly says.
“What now?” Rimbaud raises his head to meet his boyfriend’s eyes.
“I just found out that what I just drank wasn’t water.” Verlaine says, “This little shit brought fucking vodka to our table.”
“You did what?” Oda asks, raging.
“My mind must have slipped.” Ango plays innocent. “Just like someone else’s hand when we were ordering our meals earlier.”
Now, that’s a plot twist. While Chuuya isn’t hiding his surprised but amused smile, Dazai still tries to cover his own by taking an enormous bite of cheesecake. His eyes betray him though, but nobody is looking at him.
“If I remember correctly, alcohol doesn’t kick in before thirty minutes or so.” Rimbaud says. “It’s okay. It’s fine. You just have to drink some water and avoid alcohol for the rest of the evening.”
“I guess it’s only fair.” Verlaine has to admit, ignoring Rimbaud. “I played dirty, but I didn’t expect you to do it back. I underestimated you, and kind of admire you now.”
“I am glad you figured that out. Sometimes we must let go of our pride and do what is requested of us.” Ango replies.
Verlaine’s expression literally lights up.
“Was that a Star Wars quote?” he asks, overexcited.
“Do you like Star Wars?” Ango replies, matching his energy.
“Of course I do, I love it.” Verlaine is happier than ever. “I tried to get Arthur to watch a few movies, but he always falls asleep.”
“Sakunosuke doesn’t appreciate it much.” Ango replies. “So I don’t have anyone to talk about it with.”
“You do now!” Verlaine exclaims. “I’m literally the biggest fan.”
“Who’s your favorite character, then, let’s hear.” Ango asks.
After that, Dazai is less interested in what they’re actually saying and more weirded out by the fact that Paul Verlaine and Ango Sakaguchi are having a civil conversation, and it’s about Star Wars. They look like they’ve forgotten all the subtle hate there’s been for all the dinner and it seems like they’ve just become best friends. Well, Dazai guesses, miracles happen sometimes.
Dazai and Chuuya finish their cheesecake with the best show they could ever ask for: two usually quiet, half-drunk men who hate each other talking about Star Wars while their respective boyfriends are either trying to pass out by hitting his head with the spoon or watching them with an unreadable expression.
Dazai really doesn’t want to go – and he suspects Chuuya is having fun as well – but they can’t deny that they’ve finished their cheesecake. As soon as Rimbaud notices, he suggests going back home “because it’s late and tomorrow we have to work”, to which Oda immediately agrees.
Verlaine and Ango try to protest, but they eventually listen to the others and all together they leave the restaurant. They must look like a weird group to the other customers; two men holding onto each other and ranting about nerd stuff, followed by two other guys with a mortified expression and in the end two teenagers that can’t stop laughing. But, for once, nobody cares about what the others think.
Ango and Verlaine exchange phone numbers, promising each other multiple times that they will meet again to go to a convention together. Oda and Rimbaud look at them, the first with a blank face, purposely disconnecting his brain from his eyes, and the second one looking done. Chuuya and Dazai are still chatting in the corner when Rimbaud decides he’s had enough and forces his boyfriend and Ango to say the last goodbyes.
“It’s been funnier than expected.” Chuuya smiles.
“Yeah.” Dazai agrees, matching his expression.
“Guys, it’s time to go.” Oda calls them, “I hope you two had a good time.”
As they approach the so-called adults, Chuuya’s smile fades a little. He slightly turns his head to whisper to Dazai, without stopping.
“You know we’ll have to kiss now, right?” he murmurs. “I promise it’s gonna be the last time, but we have to be believable. Otherwise, this has been nothing but useless.”
“Okay. Fine.” Dazai whispers back. “Just do it quickly. It’s well-known that slugs’ kisses are the worst.”
“I wonder where did you get that information from.” Chuuya replies, before switching back to a serious face. “Okay, I’m kissing you now.”
Dazai nods and allows Chuuya to press their lips together again. He notices Chuuya’s been gently holding his shoulders only when the other boy pulls them apart.
“Has it been that much of a torture?” he jokingly cocks his eyebrow, before letting go of Dazai, “See you at work, mackerel!”
The last sentence is more of a yelling, as Chuuya gets in the car. His brother and Rimbaud are already in, waiting for him, Verlaine probably sleeping. Dazai waves his hand before getting in Ango’s car, even though this time Oda is the one sitting at the driver’s seat. Ango is in the back, his head leaning against the window as if it was heavy.
“Is Ango in a coma or something?” Dazai jokes once the car begins to go.
“Even if he was, it would only be his problem.” Oda’s voice is harsh. “He did everything by himself.”
“But at least he won the competition.” Dazai smiles cheerfully. “He brought honor to our family!”
“You’re right.” Oda’s tone is a little lighter now, and it becomes even softer with the following sentence. “Even though there’s something I would like to ask you.”
“Go ahead then.” Dazai replies.
“Are you and Chuuya really dating?” Oda chooses his words carefully. “It might only be something I noticed, but you two looked really weird this evening. And everything about this relationship in general, I don’t know, it just seemed off to me.”
Dazai knows he isn’t forced to answer. He also knows he could tell the truth or lie and both of the answers would sound convincing. He wishes he could tell Oda what has really happened, but he stops. It’s better if he doesn’t, both because it would be unfair towards Chuuya – which is funny, since he has never cared about such things before – and because there are some new things that Dazai is feeling these days.
“Yes, we are.” he replies. “It’s strange for me as well, but what can I say? It’s just the way things are right now.”
“Okay.” Oda says, ending the conversation.
The only other words Dazai and Oda speak to each other are the “goodbye”s when Dazai gets off. He silently walks up the stairs and gets to his apartment.
Only once he’s taken off his bandages and he’s changed into more comfortable clothes, he allows himself to lay down on his bed, facing the ceiling. He already feels the tiredness hitting him, and he only has time for one last thought before falling asleep.
“Damned Chuuya.” is what he thinks as his eyes close. “I swear that if I actually fall in love with you, I will call you slug until the day I die.”