Chapter Text
'Dazai.'
'What?'
'Put your damn phone away.'
'I'm recording.'
'On your phone? Why the hell are you-'
'It's a voice memo, obviously. You'd think you would know that much.'
'Why the hell would you need a recording of Ace's presentation? No one wants to listen to that.'
'Well, I just thought it would be good to have just in case.'
'In case what? You know what, I don't care. Take it off.'
'Noo-'
-Click-
Reminder to self: Subordinate inspection at three, meeting with Odasaku and Ango at eight.
-Click-
'Can you say that again?'
'About the cats?'
'Yeah.'
'Jesus you're recording this.'
'Of course!'
'What, so you could deliver my opinion to the boss in a blackmail file?'
'I just want you on the record Chuuya, you'd rather have a stray dog over any cat.'
'God, you're insane. Fine, I confirmed it, you hear that? I'm on the record now, I'd rather have a dog than any cat. They're loads better.'
'What if Kouyou told you to get one?'
'That wasn't part of the scenario.'
'It is now. I'm showing her what you said when we get back"
'Don't you dare waste her time like that-'
-Click-
'Dazai, Dazai!'
'Oh look, you've found me.'
'How the hell did you even find yourself down here?'
'Luck I suppose. Though I'm still alive so I wouldn't call myself lucky.'
'Well now both of us are wet. What were you doing, taking pictures of your final moments?'
'No idiot, I was recording.'
'What were you recording that made you end up in a river?'
'My death in all its glory. As you can see, it didn't succeed.'
'…do you even listen back to those.'
'I haven't yet.'
'Are you ever going to?'
'Hm…I guess when I miss it.'
-Click-
The glowing red circle on the dimmed phone screen morphed into a square as it began recording, the sound waves immediately rising and falling as it picked up the soft rumble of the 1969 Dodge charger that was currently driving along the deserted road. The man that currently occupied the seat of the stolen car sighed when he turned to look back onto the road, silently contemplating whether or not he should swerve and crash into a nearby tree.
Deciding against the urge, he shook his head in an attempt to get the hair out of his eyes to see better. The rain fell heavily on the windshield, the wipers providing little help in allowing him to see the road. With the mist that shrouded the concrete covered by a thin layer of water, it felt more like he was driving on a river than a road.
Sighing again, he fiddled with the air conditioning settings, the rain falling providing a low enough temperature, before picking up his phone again and placing it on the dashboard. The phone slid along the sides but did not fall, before resting still near the window.
"The date is Thursday, July eighth, 2009," he paused for a moment to ensure the phone picked up his voice before returning his focus to the road.
"My name is… Oba Yozo," He groaned in distaste at the sound of the name, "And I've been lying to my partner since the moment I met him. I'm going on the record here to do something about it, to remember."
He pushed one of the buttons on his right-hand side to wind down the window, the small sliver of fresh cold air that seeped into the car. He took a few deep breaths, letting himself remain calm to continue speaking, lest he changes his mind and crashes the car before he even arrives at his destination.
"The time is six forty-three," the iPhone chimed and the brightness lowered further, a red notification popping up on the top of the screen. Noticing the indicator of his low battery, he reached one hand out into the passenger seat but found it empty. "And I've left my charger at Lupin. This means I have about thirty minutes, if even that, before this cuts out. So I don't have very long to convince him I guess."
The navigation app spoke out, signifying that he has to turn right to arrive at his destination. He swore, making a violent turn to the next street that he probably shouldn't have done given the current situation of the road if he didn't have a death wish. Almost colliding into a passing truck when he turned, he made another dangerous move to avoid it. The massive truck honked loudly when he drove by the driver let out a string of curses and without stopping for a moment he continued driving, slowing down as he drove to prevent another near crash.
He tapped his fingers on the wheel, listening to the combination of the rain and the monotone female voice that gave him instructions on where to go as he neared his desired location. He hummed along to the rain, absentmindedly bobbing his head from side to side as if he were listening to a song on the radio, despite the radio being off.
"Oh, I'm gonna die out here," He sang quietly, still tapping to the beat of the impromptu tune he had made. "There is nothing out there. Not even an A.M. radio station."
In the distance through the thick mist, a house came into view. Confirming that it was the one that he had been looking for, he slowed the vehicle, even more, to turn it into the driveway.
"I'm gonna die and they're gonna find my car. But all that will be left of me is my phone."
He pulls into the driveway, not bothering to take off the car's headlights as he hadn't had them on in the first place. Removing the key from the ignition, he placed it in his inner coat pocket and stepped out of the car. Immediately after slamming the door shut, he remembered that it was still raining. Deciding that he didn't care, he held his now soaked phone close to his mouth and continues to speak into it as he looked at the house before him.
"I've gotten to the ankle biter's place in one piece. I can see his country house or log cabin or whatever." He took a long look at the house, scanning it up and down, "It's hideous, I have no idea why he would want to live here. It looks quiet, remote I guess. The perfect hiding place, especially if you find out your partner has been lying about who he is and refusing to acknowledge it."
He made his way up the driveway, ignoring his bangs that are now stuck to his forehead. The combination of the rain and the stone made it slippery, and he felt like he would slip and crack his head against the pavement if he didn't walk carefully enough. So of course he walked as carelessly as possible. Passing the glistening red motorcycle, now dotted with small drops of rain, he scoffed with silent judgement at the fact that it had been left out despite the owner's obsession over it as if it was his child. His foot slipped on a certain spot on the driveway and he accidentally kicked a large sheet of metal that had been lying on the ground. The sound reverberated and even though the sound of the rain was loud enough that it could be heard from a great distance away.
"Oops. There goes the surprise." He paused, hearing the sound of an electric tool in the distance, "though it sounds like someone's drilling. So maybe he didn't hear me."
He kicked the metal to the side, no longer caring about the loud sound it made and kept walking. "Not that it matters, it's not like I'm plotting an assassination. Do you hear that future me? no matter how annoying he becomes you will not kill him. The mission is to salvage the, sadly, most important relationship of your life."
The drilling grew louder as he neared the door. Stepping on the soaked wooden steps that creaked underneath his weight, he made his way up until he was finally facing the door. An old burgundy door that looked like it might fall over if he knocked, next to it was a bronze doorbell. He pressed the doorbell, but no sound followed. Pressing several more times he concluded that it didn't work, or he broke it somehow.
The sound of the machinery continued, and he couldn't possibly have an idea of what someone could even be drilling in an old house like this. Did they not fear that it might fold in itself one day and crumble?
Despite being certain that it would fall when he touched it, he circled his hand into a fist and knocked a pattern on the door. It was a specific pattern they had planned a long time ago if ever one of them had gone in hiding. so unless he had forgotten or he had the wrong house, the inhabitant would know exactly who was standing outside as of now.
The drilling ceased, and the house turned dormant. He sighed and knocked again, already planning in his mind to go crawl through the window he saw at the side when he climbed the stairs if his knocking on the door wasn't answered. If he gets stuck the other will simply have to pull him out and that will be on him.
"Chuuuya," He heard a breath hitch, and the wooden floors inside betrayed their owner, creaking loudly as he moved. Why he didn't use his ability so that he wouldn't be heard was beyond him. "I can hear you on the other side of the stoor. Stop being a bad host and let your guest in."
The creaking of the wood continued, and the no longer concealed footsteps could be heard as Chuuya made his way further into the house. The rustling of a garbage bag, or several, was being made in the distance. He wondered whether he was planning to take out the trash in this downpour or if he was planning to stuff him in the bag and suffocate him that way, making cleanup easier since no one would find him in this secluded area.
"I'm slipping something through the mail slot." The rustling stopped. "It's not a bomb this time, don't have a fit."
He pulled out a brown envelope, dotted with darker spots from where the rain had landed. Without care he unceremoniously shoved it through the mail slot, listening to it as it fell on the other side. Waiting for the count of five to prove that it was, in fact, not a bomb. He heard footsteps by the door again, and a small movement indicating that Chuuya had picked up the envelope. No tearing sound was heard, so he had not opened it yet. Knowing him he deliberately wouldn't, in an attempt to make the entire trip there worthless.
"If you even bother to open it let me know. I'll be staring at your trees while you do that. Lovely, by the way."
Leaning against the door, he felt an irritating noise near his face, immediately pinpointing the location of the notice and smacking it. When he removed his hand he saw a small spatter of blood and what remained of the insect he had killed. Several more flew around him, growing slightly irritated he smiled as he waved them away, contemplating if it would be understandable if he attempted to shoot them all down with the pistol hidden in his belt.
"Mosquitoes! how delightful." he snarked sarcastically, "Okay, there are two options. Either you are Chūya Kashimura Nakahara, who resides at 520 Zodiaque drive. Also known as sheep king at one point in your life if you would like to get into specifics, dumb name by the way. Or, you're a stranger who just so happens to live in the house the member of a major crime syndicate and executive of the port mafia gifted to him. In either event, I would appreciate you opening the door before I do it myself."
He swatted away another pest, now thoroughly drenched by the rain. He was soaked to the bone, freezing and his bandages were beginning to feel unbearable now that they had gotten wet. He didn't mind all that much, he had suffered under much worse conditions. It was more the fact that he had chosen to come out, and chosen to stand in the rain when he didn't have to. For a stupid shrimp who wouldn't bother to open the door.
"Fine, I'll play your game." Giving up on standing right in front of the door, he took a seat on the wooden steps half wondering if it would break under his weight and leave him with splinters.
"Well, whoever you are stranger, you remind me a great deal of this annoying pint-sized guy that I worked with." He looked out into the long driveway, where the red motorcycle remained standing, its glistening metallic colour glowing under the fluorescent streetlight. "Well, you have the same ugly motorcycle. So either he sold it, which I would never believe he would do, or you stole it from him. If you did I applaud you, though I suggest you remove the plate number because they'll find you faster that way. I would know."
"Even if you aren't him, it feels rude to leave people out in the rain like this. I drove for hours just to get here and yet I'm sitting out in the rain. If it were him he'd open the door." He paused to think about it. "Actually no, I take that back. He'd also leave me out in the rain."
"I know you're listening to me, so there's no point in trying to ignore me. I don't care if it's a stranger on the other side of that door, currently, you have the same amount of trust in me that the person I've been looking for does, which is none. For whatever it's worth, I have absolutely no clue who I am either."
He felt his phone chime in his shirt pocket where he had placed it so it wouldn't get rained on, notifying him again of the dwindling battery life. He contemplated turning off the recording, but moving his arms with the state of his bandages felt uncomfortable, so he left it where it was.
"So whoever you are stranger, I'm going to have to bother you a bit longer. Because I'm not leaving until someone lets me in and hears me out."
He swatted another horde of insects flying near his face, "And with the number of mosquitoes out here I might just do both you and them a favour and take my life in your driveway, so they could feast on my body in the rain."
After a moment of long silence and wondering if he was going to leave him out in the rain, a long sigh was heard and the movement of keys knocked against each other as they were inserted into the lock. The lock clicked and the door swung open, and he looked over. Unlike him who was drenched head to toe and shivering slightly from the cold, Chuuya Nakahara stood in the now open doorway. Dressed in a simple black shirt and long red pyjama pants, the man scowled at him from his place by the door, looking like he already regretted opening it in the first place.
"I'm only letting you in so you don't take your life on my driveway."
The other boy cocked his head to the side and smiled wryly "So you're saying I won't be dead in the house?"
"Not by your hand. Close the door behind you."
Rising from his place on the stairs and nearly sliding down the soaked wood, he followed Chuuya inside. The atmosphere felt immediately warmer as he crossed the threshold of the house, the flickering yellow lightbulb's glow offering as much light as it possibly could. Before he could even utter a word, Chuuya briskly walked away from the main area where they stood to where he couldn't be seen. Soon after the sound of the drill started again and letting out an annoyed huff, he pulled out his phone from its place in his shirt. After checking the battery life, which thankfully remained at five per cent, he examined the record app that had been picking up every sound that was made the entire time.
"For the record, I think Chuuya is still upset. I can see why someone would be upset I guess."
"I can't hear you!" Chuuya's voice called out from the other room, barely being heard over the sound of the drill.
The piercing sound ceased, and he heard Chuuya's footsteps enter the room again, followed by incoherent whispers that he made that he could not quite make out. Chuuya came into view, his hair that had been pulled back into a small ponytail somehow looking even brighter under the light. The scowl from before remained fixed on his face, though it didn't make him look unpleasant in the slightest.
"Who were you talking to? Do you happen to have other rain refugees hidden in the house other than me?" He smirked at Chuuya.
"I'll ask the questions. What are you doing here?" Chuuya watched him suspiciously, but instead of responding to him right away, he saw something else that caught his eye in other's hand.
"Is that your hat? Were you wearing your hat inside?" He did not attempt to mask his judgemental tone, "What kind of family sitcom were you about to participate in? Friends?"
Chuuya gently placed his hat on the dining table and looked up at him, the scowl somehow deeper. "Yeah sure. This is the one where we find out that the main character's partner is a compulsive liar and has been lying about who he is for the last three years. Even lying about his name, and so the main character gets rightfully pissed and says 'get away from me you insane maniac' and yet somehow the partner tracks him down even though he knows he never told him the address of this place."
"You think you're the main character?"
"Doesn't matter who I think I am, I don't know who you are."
"And I don't know if you listened to anything I said when I was outside, because that's why I'm here." He eyed Chuuya's hand sceptically, "Can you put the drill down? it's not that intimidating."
Chuuya dropped the drill, the heavy mechanical tool colliding loudly with the wooden floor. Miraculously the drill remained intact, the floor not so much. Chuuya didn't seem to notice.
"Do you know what you've done? Like do you actually know or have you lied to yourself so much that you gave yourself selective memory?"
"Let's see if I remember." He tapped his chin with fake thought "If I recall correctly, I gave you a fake name when we met and I continue to use that fake name while we worked together-"
"More than just a fake name, you think I give a damn about some fake name?"
"Clearly you do."
Chuuya paused, "Fine I do, but I care more about the fact I asked you directly and you didn't say anything at all, not like I ever expected that from you anyway. It makes you more than someone who lied. It makes you a liar."
"Okay."
"And I don't have time for liars, especially you."
"Okay."
"And I don't have time for," He paused again, noticing the other's short responses and the dimly lit phone in his bandaged hand that displayed a continuous line that moved up and down every second he spoke. "Why do you have your phone out? Are you recording this?"
His lips quirked in amusement, "Just a little bit."
"Are you being serious right now?"
"It's for me!"
"For you?"
He opened his mouth to attempt to explain when he got cut off by a deafening bark. A massive black shadow ran in and nearly threw him to the ground. Chuuya rushed forward and held the mass back, making it stand still long enough for him to see the adult kishu ken looking up at him with curiosity.
"That...is a dog."
Chuuya gently let go of the dog's paws as it shot away from him, running sporadically around the room. "What great observational skills"
"Where did he come from?"
Chuuya sighed, reluctantly answering his question despite wanting to get back on topic "His name is Diablo- don't give me that look it's a cool name- and I found him on the patio and let him in. He's been perfectly tame and I'm training him to be a guard dog and I don't think I should even have to explain myself to you considering how you refused to explain even the most basic things to me."
He tugged his hair in agitation. "What is your name, your actual one? where were you born? Do you actually need food or water to function or are you some kind of vampire? I don't need you to answer that last one, I've seen for myself that you think you don't."
The other man raised his hand to stop him, receiving a glare for doing so "For your information, I wasn't judging, it looks like an okay dog I guess." He eyed the dog, hoping it would sense that he didn't want it anywhere near him again. "If he helps you with this then whatever, I only came out here to ask you to do one thing."
"One thing," Chuuya laughed bitterly. "One thing. I came out here to forget about you, that was my one thing. You didn't give a damn about that, so why should I about you?"
As he spoke aloud creak sounded from another room, followed by a crash.
"What was that?"
Chuuya looked out into the dark hallway at the new crumbled mass of broken wood, "That was the sound of a shelf I just installed buckling under the weight of one hundred books."
"Ah…"
Another crash sounded from another unspecified area in the house.
"And there goes the cursed statue that was put here for safekeeping."
"Shouldn't you be more concerned about that?"
"Would you?"
He kept silent at that, knowing he in all honesty probably wouldn't. A muffled thump was felt beneath his feet on the wooden floor, followed by the vibrations of another clamorous crash.
"And- I have no idea what that was. Wait here a second." He walked down the hall. A clicking sound was heard from a light switch though no light followed. The scent of smoke wafted into the room, no comment was made by either man to signal it.
"I know I'm not supposed to be asking questions," he began, pulling at the soaked gauze that stuck to his skin, "but Kouyou does not care what happens to anything in this dollhouse, it doesn't even match her excessive taste. Why are you wasting your time doing all this work for her?"
"She doesn't know."
"She doesn't know you're trashing her house?"
"Trashing is a strong word." Chuuya returned to the main area where his guest stood, pausing as he noticed the clouded room filled with the charred scent of wood. He narrowed his eyes at the seemingly innocent bystander to the impending accident that would soon occur, visibly signifying an air of silent accusation. "Do you smell smoke?"
He shrugged, making sure to display his hands to show that he had nothing in his possession to be the source of the smoke. Almost as if to prove his point further, an explosion sounded from the corner of the room. A short roar of flames shot from the former appliance, perhaps a fan or heater of some sort, before shrinking tremendously and crackling menacingly at the two.
"And that's fire." Chuuya rushed forward, looking around for something to put out the fire. Pointing in the direction of the couch that had been pushed against one of the walls in the room, he directed his hand to what resembled a thick rug that lay neatly folded on the leather arm, "Be useful and hand me that blanket over there."
Taking as much time as possible, he leisurely strolled to the chair and examined the blanket. Lifting it in his hands, it felt soft. The design on either side didn't look modern, despite this, he took Chuuyas instructions and tossed the blanket. It landed upon his head, nearly falling into the fire and fueling the flames further. Snatching the blanket before it could fall, he began to fan out the flames in an attempt to put it out. The edges of the blanket began to char as the orange heat licked against the cotton, leaving dark marks in its stead.
Deciding he should point it out, he put the phone near his mouth again, "For the record, Chuuya's putting out a fire with what looks like an antique quaker quilt."
"What?"
Looking back at the blanket Chuuya swore and threw it away from him. Realising his mistake as the fire crept up the blanket, he moved to put it out, trying his best to put it out. The man watched in amusement, attempting to hide his laughter from the Chuuya, lest he tries to set him on fire as well. Chuuya kicked away the last of the fire on the blanket without it spreading further, the embers fading away to black. He turned face to face with the one who watched him struggle to put it out, the smirk still plastered on behind his hand that poorly hid his expression. Chuuya opened his mouth to speak, but nothing came out as he looked him in the eyes. He turned away and looked down at what remained of the antique charred blanket.
"Well as you can see your timing, as always, is impeccable."
"Thank you."
"That wasn't a compliment," Chuuya snapped back, kicking the blanket to the side as the black ends fell apart into smaller fragments on the floor. "I guess I learned something from this. One problem never stays one problem. All it takes is one thing for the entire line to come crashing down."
"For example?"
"Was all that you witnessed not enough?"
"I know those are probably not the only things you've ruined while you were here so far."
"For example, that lightbulb over there." Chuuya nodded his head in the direction of the lightbulb that hung in the centre of the room, the yellow light dim. "The damn thing has been flickering since I got it. Took me three days before I finally snapped and tried to fix it. So I drive to town and buy a new one, come back to put it in and the wires aren't connecting. The entire thing goes on the fritz and suddenly I need to rewire the ceiling on top of fixing the lightbulb."
"Uh-huh."
"So I go up to the attic and guess what I find in there? black mould, I've been inhaling it for days without knowing. So I had another thing to do."
"Yeah but my one thing is really just one thing so-"
"Shut up, I'm not done. Then I had to tear down an entire wall to look for more of the mould. I had to check the other places to make sure I got rid of everything."
Chuuya was cut off by the sound of a continuous ringing sound that reverberated throughout the house. The two looked expectantly at the front door, the sound unmistakably being the doorbell.
"And who's that?" a questioning glace came from the other boy, more wondering why the doorbell worked now and not when he had tried it outside.
"No one, you're the only unwanted visitor here. The bell just does that when it rains." Chuuya took two steps to the side and pounded on the walls, almost immediately the room quieted again, and the two left in silence other than the rain that continued to pour without showing any signs of ceasing outside and the distant bark of the dog that raced around the house. He clapped excessively to break the silence, the sound muffled by his damp bandaged hands.
"Well, I applaud you for attempting to fix this dump for Kouyou, no matter how little I'm certain she cares. It's almost impressive, how you managed to destroy almost everything in the house and yet not the house itself."
"But do you want to know what I think?" he took a step closer to Chuuya, leaning slightly to meet his face. "I think you're obsessing over things you can control. Hoping to control your feelings, you were never good at it. Maybe you're hoping that doing all this would help you control your feelings for-"
"What? No." Chuuya scoffed and pushed him away. "No, no. You're out of your mind if you think that is what this is."
He took another step forward as Chuuya took another step back, hit back hitting the wall of the room. "So you came here looking for something-"
"Stop. These things needed to get done – okay, okay Just... just... just stop moving towards me. Just stay on your side of the room, okay? don't come anywhere near me-"
"And that something," he stopped near the wall, no more than a few inches away, "Was to forget about me."
"Well, listen- If Ane-san is going be understanding to let me stay out here after what you did and respect my need to be alone the least I could do is go around and..." Chuuya struggled to continue explaining, finding nothing else to say in his defence, "Destroy her house."
They stood near each other, not speaking for a moment. There was not much to say. He stepped away from Chuuya and shrugged lackadaisically.
"Well, all I am asking is for you to do what is probably the last thing you might ever do with me before I disappear. After tonight, you'll never hear from me again. If that's what you want I don't care. Everything we need is inside this envelope. I'm asking for one chance, and I don't ask for things often."
He let Chuuya think for a moment, certain he would let him stay for a while longer and listen to him explain. There is always a possibility that he wouldn't hear what he had to say and kick him back out in the rain. In that circumstance, he might take his life on the driveway then. But in reality, Chuuya didn't throw him out like he half expected him to. Instead, he just sighed, as if he had given up on trying to get rid of him for once.
"Fine. I don't know why I'm taking you seriously but whatever, the sooner you leave the better. This would be the first thing we're doing together since-"
"You left without saying a word."
"Since you lied about your entire identity."
"Same difference."
"Okay whatever," he sighed and gestured to the phone that was still held in the other's hand. "The record."
"That's part of the whole appeal."
"No, the actual record."
He looked down in his hand for a moment at the dim screen, the timer signalling that it had been recording for well over ten minutes. He had almost forgotten he had put it on, and he didn't want to take it off. However, if it made Chuuya listen to him then it didn't matter. He'll just turn it back on when he wasn't looking later.
"Oh, right."
-Click-