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The snow crunched under his expensive boots, slightly heeled so that although he stood an inch or two taller, it wasn't noticeable enough that comments would be made about his sudden growth spurt. His partners seemed to have found those remarks particularly appealing within the past few weeks, and he certainly wasn't keen on receiving any more. The bite of the cold rushing wind was almost comforting to his rapidly overheating body stuffed in layers of jackets. Pfft. If only his penthouse didn't require such a long walk from the carpark to the goddamn elevator, perhaps he wouldn't be sweating his ass off and getting hypothermia at the same time. The things he did for an ounce of refinery in his life.
Once the lobby doors opened and caused a rush of warm air to spread over him, a minute portion of tension lifted from his shoulders. A small wave to the receptionist was enough to be granted a wide smile.
"Ah, Nakahara! Welcome back. How was your trip?"
"Fine," a gruff shrug was enough to convey his exhaustion as he pulled his heavy coat off of his shoulders.
Tachihara’s smile turned sympathetic. "Still haven't caught him?"
"No, but close to it. That son of a bitch won't get away this time." Chuuya's posture gained a bit of energy with that confident affirmation.
"You'll get him soon. You always do, after all." Tachihara oozed confidence in him, in his ability to achieve what he'd been working towards for years.
Tch, if only it was that simple. This particular bastard was as slippery as an eel, and as dangerous as a goddamn piranha in a goldfish bowl. It'd take more than a positive reputation and experience to catch a fish this big.
But, he was closer to doing so than ever before. So, the kind words weren't wasted on him. "Thanks. Have a good night, 'hara."
A wink and a nod was Tachihara's final response before Chuuya stepped into the elevator and pressed the button for the thirteenth floor. It took a moment before the doors closed and the ascent began, swiftly rising floor by floor until a pleasant ding signaled his arrival. The doors slid open and he was met with the sweet sight of his living room, untouched and as clean as he'd left it only five days ago.
God, he'd missed this place. The only stagnant part of his sanity lied within this walls, embedded with photos of his loved ones and cushioned by lavish furniture that was as comfortable as it was high-end.
Gingerly taking off his suit jacket and lying it atop of the barstools, he reached into the cabinet besides the fridge to grab a newer, but nonetheless pricey bottle of wine. Chuuya didn't hesitate to then collapse into the cushions and slowly unbutton his vest until it was just loose enough to let out a deep and much-needed exhale.
One reach to unscrew the bottle was all it took for his night to fall into a familiar pattern. Small gulps of wine ran down his throat and warmed up his insides until that ease ran through his entire body, eyelids drooping with tiredness. He didn't resist sleep as it fell atop him, beginning yet another night where his tired puffs turned into a moment without urgency.
—
His morning routine followed the same pattern as always; as if this day didn't have the potential to end his suffering incarnate of the past seven years. He drank a particularly large mug of black coffee, brushed his teeth, slipped on a tight-fitting button up, and headed for the door. He grabbed his keys and his usual hat in one motion, using his other hand to jab the elevator button with just a bit more force than was typical for eight-am on a Saturday. Hmph. It's not like you could blame the man, a lot was on the line today; he was a perfectly reasonable amount of tense.
After descending the elevator and nodding hello to the morning crew in the lobby, Chuuya stepped through the parted automatic doors and into the frigidity of a January winter. He made his way to the carpark where his motorcycle was parked, hopping on top and preparing himself for the onslaught of cold wind on the highway that would nearly freeze his clothes right off of him.
Of course his car had to be decimated right as the coldest part of the year emerged. It was hard to dismiss that occurrence as anything but intentional; his car being blown up as soon as he'd be using it most screamed the style of the particular weasel he had yet to get his hands upon. Jesus, at this point the man was straight up toying with him.
Nakahara Chuuya was, in simple terms, an assassin. An expensive and heavily renowned one at that.
Dazai Osamu just happened to be the man he'd been on a mission to kill for over seven years. Although this man was as evasive as a needle in a haystack, a business kill quickly became personal— because this man had to be some form of immortal. Fuck.
However, Chuuya's new lead was more than promising. With a godly amount of skill and a pinch of luck, he'd finally put that sleazy bastard to rest.
The only unfortunate prospect of this fortunate turn in circumstance, was the man that could lead him to such a desirable outcome as the death of his mortal enemy. This man happened to be the only kind of brilliant that Chuuya despised; unreliably genius. This may or may not be due to the dozens of chemical explosions exploring the properties of nuclear lemons, but such was expected of someone like Kaji Motojirou.
In any case, Kaji owed him a favor for killing off the president of a company that threatened to suspend his chemical license just a year prior. He'd better come through this time. The man certainly had a brain on him, it's just what he chose to use it on that was concerning at times.
He was at their meeting place before he knew it, parking carefully before shaking his head to loosen the knots in his hair due to the whipping wind of the highway. After letting out a deep sigh of pent-up anticipation, he opened the front door and stepped into the somewhat familiar lab. (Somewhat only because of the fact that Kaji was prone to reorganizing everything when his newest lemon-based hypothesis didn't go as planned.)
Chuuya peered warily around the doorway, knocking on the wall loudly enough that it resonated. "I'm here."
There were a few brief moments of silence before Kaji seemingly appeared out of thin air, goggles askew and wearing the most misshapen grin. "Ah! You made it in one piece!"
Chuuya raised an eyebrow. "Why wouldn't I?"
Kaji waved him off. "Ah, no reason, no reason at all." He took Chuuya by the elbow and pulled him out of the room, but not before he realized Kaji's suspicious glance towards an oddly shaped contraption above the entryway. Some sort of protection service that went haywire, presumably.
After being guided through a few hallways and into a surprising amount of black-light study rooms, Kaji finally stood them in front of a citrus-printed curtain with flourish. While the man seemed very confident in what laid behind the fabric, Chuuya was far less certain of its usefulness.
"You remember what my request was, right?" Nobody could blame him for initially distrusting the capabilities of someone, to put it bluntly, who far surpassed the legal definition of clinically insane.
Kaji's grin somehow got wider, which a second ago Chuuya would have deemed physically impossible. "Of course!" He lowered his voice, presumably to impersonate the man in front of him. "Cook me up something magnificent enough to kill my (im?)mortal enemy, or at the very least, wound him permanently."
Chuuya sighed deeply and rubbed his forehead. "Close enough I suppose. What've you got?"
Kaji winked rather obnoxiously, closing his eyelid to do so rather than lifting his cheek, making the whole movement look closer to a blinking frog. "Oh, you're going to love this one. You ready?"
"Sure."
Kaji swept open the incredibly tacky curtain to gesture to a table which held a.... Box. A metal box. What the fuck? Chuuya looked up at the other man with an expression that implored for an explanation, half expecting the reveal to have been a poorly timed joke.
Kaji, however, seemed to be surprised that Chuuya hadn't fallen to his knees in awe instantaneously. His eyes narrowing as if wondering why Chuuya hadn't broken out into singing the hallelujah chorus.
"I don't get it." Chuuya said, monotone and unamused.
It took a second before the glimmer in Kaji's eyes slightly dimmed in realization. "Ah. I suppose it's hard to tell from first glance. But it's quite spectacular, I assure-"
"Jesus. Get on with it already."
Kaji hummed. "Alright. In short, what you're looking at is not an ordinary box." He gestured for Chuuya to step closer. "Go on, open it."
Quirking his eyebrow as if to jab Kaji with his low expectations, he stepped to the edge of the table and carefully pried open the (surprisingly heavy) lid, metal hinges creaking as he did so. Peering into the box, he was not met with anything particularly remarkable, only two aspects were noticeable.
First, there was a small square screen that was lined against the bottom of the lid, conveniently placed so that only when you opened the box it became visible. The screen was on, and it appeared to be some sort of GPS judging by the aerial map and coordinates visible. As for the actual contents of the box, all there was seemed to be a large and centered red button; comically flashing like one you would see in a cartoon.
It seemed to be a contraption that was well thought out, but Chuuya didn't particularly get how this would help him incapacitate Dazai of all people.
"So?" Kaji examined Chuuya for his reaction.
"What exactly is it?" Chuuya scratched the back of his neck at he peered at the box closely.
"Oh." Kaji, again, looked disappointed. However, he shook himself out of it and turned back to Chuuya, finding some excitement in getting to explain. "Well. It took a great amount of time to think of a proper idea, one that you hadn't already tried that could catch Dazai. But then!" He clapped his hands and looked toward the ceiling, imitating revelation. "It came to me. You've been trying to hurt him physically, correct?"
Chuuya blinked, caught off guard by the overwhelming stupidity of that question. "Well, yeah. Obviously."
"Mm, exactly. You see, I did quite a bit of research and he has a history of suicide attempts, does he not?"
"He did, but they stopped right around the time I started trying to off him myself. Jesus, if he wanted to die you'd think he'd fucking want me to finish the job for him!"
Kaji's eyes glimmered from behind his off-centered goggles. "Sure, sure. But I figured a change in method might be to your advantage. You see, if you destroy this man's life— eliminate those that he cares for the most, he'd most likely finish the job himself, would he not?"
Chuuya began to see where Kaji was going with this. "Oh. I see."
"Indeed. So! Back to this trinket. You see the button?"
Chuuya almost scoffed as he nodded in confirmation. How could he not? The thing took up the whole box.
"Spectacular. If you press it, the map shown on the screen will give you the current and exact location of the person Dazai cares for the most."
Chuuya's eyes widened. "Is this a joke?"
Kaji looked offended. "I would never kid about serious matters such as this!"
Well, in that case... Kaji's method actually didn't seem like a bad idea. It wouldn't hurt to try a new tactic, especially since he'd been failing for the past several years by using his own. In fact, the more he thought about it, Chuuya became increasingly confident about the results that this contraption could gift him. Huh. Kaji really was a genius.
"How do you suggest I use this?" Chuuya had plenty of his own ideas of course, but since Kaji had hit the mark with this one, he figured it didn't hurt to pry for some more insight.
"Hmm." Kaji placed his forefinger and thumb under his chin thoughtfully. "If I were you, I would threaten him with it. A barter, if you will. His life, or his loved one's. But. That's just a genius's humble opinion!" He threw another comedic wink in Chuuya's direction.
Although the wink was incredibly repulsive, Chuuya didn't hate the idea in and of itself. In fact, he was rather considering it.
"Alright. Is there anything else I should-"
"Oh! Would you look at the time!" Kaji stared at an imaginary watch on his wrist before shoving the box into Chuuya's arms and pushing him through the citrus curtain. "You really should be going. Defeating your arch-nemesis and all that."
Chuuya's protests at being manhandled were muffled by the absolute speed in which Kaji was guiding him through the many hallways and doors that they had entered through. In seemingly no time at all, he was standing at the entrance once again. He was slightly dizzy and frustrated, but there nonetheless.
Kaji continued his cascade of words. "Well, here we are! No need to thank me, what use is a genius if he doesn't share his work! Let me know when he's dead— I'll help with the cremation! Good luck!"
With that, Chuuya was shoved out the door, which closed behind him with a loud slam. Slightly dazed from Kaji's change of pace, he stared out in space for a few seconds before sighing and walking back to his motorcycle.
The things he did to get rid of Dazai.
—
Chuuya took a long drag of his cigarette, making sure it settled into his lungs before dropping it to the ground and stamping out the lit end. He looked around the park, empty due to the time of night and only illuminated by a few scattered lampposts.
He made sure not to look behind him, where he already knew a man was standing. Dazai was frankly, horrible at following him discreetly. Whenever the man had dared to do so in the past several years, (usually in attempt to figure out Chuuya's upcoming method of murdering him) Chuuya could see him coming from a mile away.
The only reason why Chuuya hadn't lost Dazai's pathetic attempt on spying an hour ago, is because it actually went in accordance to his plan.
He reached into his deep coat pocket, extracting a small folded note. Looking around once more to make sure no passerby would see, (only Dazai should read this paper) Chuuya lifted his arm in the air and made a show of dropping the note onto the ground.
Dazai would positively know the note was for him. Even an idiot would get it from such an obvious stunt like that, and Dazai was far from imbecilic.
Well, his job for today was done.
The ball, unfortunately, was in his enemy's court as of now. But, if he was lucky, Dazai would fling himself right into Chuuya's trap.
—
Chuuya leaned up against one of the many cement poles holding up this unused parking garage, every movement he made echoing in the empty space.
He'd chosen this place for many reasons, but the most prevalent one was the fact that it was secluded and far enough away from city traffic that nobody would happen upon him. Open space also contributed; he had to make sure that if this interaction escalated into a fight, he wouldn't be cornered.
However, his whole plan functioned under the assumption that he would be met up with in the first place. It wouldn't be unreasonable for Dazai to simply not show up, especially since he knew that Chuuya had been trying to kill him for over half a decade.
In fact, Chuuya would have brushed a possibility of a meetup completely aside if he didn't know Dazai's nature. Despite working directly against him for so many years, he felt that he knew the man incredibly well. It was only natural to be connected to someone that you had spent so much time studying and observing; even if the nature of such circumstances were... violent to say the least.
But, Dazai was unlike anybody he'd ever known. Despite dodging Chuuya's every attempt to slaughter him, he didn't seem to fear death in the way that a normal human would. In fact, Chuuya was quite sure that he would have readily accepted his life ending if it was on his own terms. His previous suicide attempts proved that notion. The thing that seemed to cause Dazai to avoid his demise was purely the thrill of being chased. As odd as it was, he enjoyed being hunted, found every one of Chuuya's attempts to slaughter him energizing, even humorous. To Dazai, it was a game. An elaborate round of chess, or of Russian roulette. He was more than willing to put his life on the table so long as he could torment Chuuya further, so long as he could dangle the fact of Chuuya's failure as an assassin over his head with every breath he took.
Dazai was absurd. Insane. Repulsive. Chuuya hated every part of him.
Which is why he was sure that Dazai would show up today. There is no way that man could resist an opportunity to provoke Chuuya, nor contain his curiosity for the reason of their meetup.
His hand itched towards his pocket, aching for a cigarette. He was far too tense in this moment, even considering what was at stake. Perhaps if Dazai didn't show up in the next five minutes, he would oblige himself. But for now, Chuuya checked his other pocket to insure Kaji's box was intact, leaned his head against the concrete, and waited.
Exactly four minutes passed in silence before he heard the soft echoes of confident footsteps slowly making their way towards him. Dazai. Chuuya immediately stood up straight, and waited for him to come into sight.
Dazai stepped out from behind the cement pole facing Chuuya, and the first thing that Chuuya's eyes fell upon was his devilish grin.
God, he despised this man.
"Hiiii Chuuya! You look as grumpy as always." He cocked his head and widened his grin until his eyes were squinted from the force of his smile.
Chuuya was tempted to throw back another insult, but he was sure that was what Dazai wanted, and he really didn't want to oblige him. So instead, he gave the bare minimum. "You're here."
If Dazai was disappointed by the lackluster response, he didn't show it. "Of course I am, you're the one who invited me after all, mmm?" He took Chuuya's note out of his pocket and held it in the air. "'The abandoned carpark at the north end of town. Sunday. Nine pm.' I appreciate the gesture, really, but it was a little boring, now wasn't it? Really lacked the Chuuya-esque flair."
Chuuya scoffed. "It did not! Plus, there's no such thing. I owe you no pleasantries."
Dazai hummed before tucking the note back into his pocket. "I suppose. Now! Let's get onto business. Why are we here? Did Chuuya just want to get me alone for once?"
Completely ignoring the last sentence designed to embarrass him, Chuuya rolled his eyes and reached into his pocket. "Actually, I wanted to show you something."
"Ooh, okay! Not what I was expecting, but I'm intrigued. What is it?" He pretended to think for a moment. "A grenade perhaps? Although you already tried that and it didn't work. Plus, you aren't the type of person to repeat a method. That characteristic would be admirable if you weren't—you know—trying to kill me and all that."
Keeping his breath steady, Chuuya took his time pulling the box out of his pocket, treating it gingerly, as if it was incredibly important to him. (It was, just not personally. More so important because it could get rid of his personal problem.) By the way Dazai's eyebrows raised, he could tell that Chuuya wanted to preserve the state of this object.
Schooling his expression into a poker-face, Chuuya plainly looked back up at Dazai, making deep eye contact with the other man. "I suppose you've heard of the scientist Kaji Motojirou?"
Dazai nodded slowly, unsure as to where this was going. "Only in his relation to you."
Of course this bastard kept tabs on Chuuya enough to know that he and Kaji interacted, even if their exchanges were infrequent. Although this information unsettled him, Chuuya didn't let it show on his face.
"Well, this box is actually an invention of his. I had him craft it specifically with you in mind."
Dazai's eyes grew comically wide. "Oh. Is it meant to kill me?"
Dazai went straight to the point as always, never bothering to beat around the bush. Chuuya shrugged. "Not directly."
"But indirectly?"
This is where Chuuya would catch him, hook, line, and sinker. "Well, that part is up to you actually."
Dazai's eyes narrowed. "What do you mean?"
Chuuya slowly opened the box, turning it around so that Dazai could see the inside button and screen. Dazai took a few steps closer to inspect it, but wisely still staying a distance away so that he was reasonably out of reach. Once he was sure that Dazai had a general idea of its contents, he began to explain.
"This button, once pressed, will then show on the screen the exact location of the person you love the most. I will be able to track their every move, and I will be able to kill them." Seeing how Dazai immediately tensed, he continued with a grin. "However, I will give you the choice. Either I kill you now, or I kill this person. Choose."
After a few moments of tense silence, Dazai hesitantly spoke up, pointing to the box warily. "Are you sure that thing is... accurate?"
What kind of question was that? "You heard what I just said, did you not?"
Dazai blinked. "Well, yeah. I was just making sure." He coughed, voice raising to a squeak. "But. You're sure? Positive? It's up-to-date and everything?"
Jesus, what was wrong with this dude? Chuuya threatens to kill his most loved one and Dazai's wondering which side-hoe is gonna be taken to the slaughter? This guy was seriously fucked up.
"No shit, of course it fucking is! Do you think I'd be standing here if it wasn't?"
"Ah, okay."
Dazai didn't seem to be relieved by even a minuscule amount. In fact, he looked absolutely terrified. Chuuya soaked it in with pure satisfaction. He'd been waiting for this moment for a long time, one where he knocked the bastard down a peg and squeezed a human emotion out of him. He really should have used this method sooner, Dazai looked like he was about to shit his pants in fear.
Although he doubted Dazai's stunned expression would ever grow old, Chuuya wasn't about to let the guy stew in his terror without being gifted a proper response.
"So? What is it gonna be?" Chuuya raised an eyebrow. "You? Or them?"
Dazai scratched his temple, visibly shaking. "Ehehehe, I don't think that's a very easy question to answer."
"I don't care," Chuuya announced, plain and simple.
A bead of sweat formed on Dazai's forehead. God, this was getting good. Every moment Chuuya spent chasing this bastard's ass was building up to this incredibly cathartic moment where he witnessed Dazai visibly unsettled.
"Uhhhhh..... Um......" Dazai looked back and forth, as if plotting out an escape route.
Chuuya tapped his foot, growing more impatient with every passing second.
"Errmmm.... Ehhh....."
His line of patience snapped. "Fuck this!"
Chuuya reached to press the button, ready to take back Dazai's autonomy and choose for him. Dazai saw him start to move to press it, eyes immediately bugging out of his skull as he screamed for Chuuya to stop.
"Wait!!! Don't!!"
But it was too late. Chuuya's fingers hit the button, a ding sounding as the screen immediately zoomed into the map to pinpoint the exact location of Dazai's loved one.
Chuuya squinted, trying to recognize where the person was located, before realizing how familiar that arial view seemed to be.... He cast a quick look down at his watch (which displayed his coordinates on top of the time, he'd gotten it to be able to find Dazai’s loved one with more ease) and darted his eyes back to the coordinates listed at the bottom of the screen back and forth repeatedly. No, this can't be.
Why the fuck were both coordinates listed the same exact numbers?!
After almost dropping the box in shock and rage, Chuuya whipped his head back to Dazai, who looked on the verge of throwing up in anxiety.
"BLEGHSMERH!" Chuuya was so confused and upset that he couldn't even form proper words, instead evoking a very terrifying mix of sounds.
"Look!" Dazai's face blanched until he was as pale as a ghost. "I can explain!"
Chuuya just stared, looking as if he’d just witnessed the most traumatic event in all of existence. However, he didn’t seem capable of forming any protests right now, so Dazai assumed this meant that the man was waiting for him to continue.
“You see- it’s not like- I don’t-!” Dazai sighed, blood rushing back into his face just as quickly as it had drained just a few moments ago. He struggled to find words, but once he opened his mouth it was as if he couldn’t stop; the word vomit pouring out a secret he’d never thought would ever leave the crevices of his mind.
“It’s just, you’re so passionate about your line of work. I know you’ve been trying to kill me and all… but I dunno, nobody has ever put this much effort into me since, well, ever. Even if the effort is to make sure I’ll end up dead, it’s kind of flattering— that you think I’m worthy enough to monopolize your time. I’d never really enjoyed living before I met you, before I found someone that was on my level, that could keep up with me and actually wanted to. Sure, we’re enemies, but I’d be lying if I said I wouldn’t be upset if something happened to you.”
Chuuya’s eyes grew even wider, until they nearly popped out of their sockets. He opened his mouth to speak, but no words came out. His face grew redder by the second, and whether it was due to embarrassment or rage was impossible to tell.
Dazai winced as he processed what he’d just said, wanting to bury himself alive and erase every memory of his existence from every person he’d ever interacted with. He let out a wary and frankly terrified chuckle, reaching forwards towards the assassin. “Uh, Chuuya? You look like you’re going to pop a vein.”
There were a few tense moments of silence that seemed to last an eternity, before Chuuya threw the box on the ground and started aggressively kicking and stomping on it, shouting only partially coherent profanities as he did his best to absolutely demolish the object. “STUPID—FUCKING PIECE OF—USELESS GARBAGE!! CAN’T EVEN—FUCKING DO ITS—JOB RIGHT—FUCK!”
Dazai was caught entirely off guard- fully expecting himself to be the one getting a beating and not Kaji’s device, but stepped forward and placed a wary hand on Chuuya’s shoulder, attempting to calm the man down before he decided to move onto Dazai next.
“Erm, it’s not exactly the box’s fault, is it? Want to, uh, punch the concrete pole instead?” He grinned weakly, which immediately fell as soon as Chuuya looked up at him, his expression so conflicted that even Dazai couldn’t distinguish what the man was feeling.
Chuuya let out a hoarse chuckle, narrowed eyes meeting Dazai’s. “You’re right. It isn’t Kaji’s stupid fucking box that is the problem, it’s you.”
Okay, now Dazai was a little more on edge. He didn’t know what to say to call the man down, but honestly, he wasn’t sure if he could in the first place. It wasn’t that unreasonable for Chuuya to be upset at the notion that the man who he’d dedicated his life to kill not only didn’t equally despise him, but quite the opposite.
Before he could think of a reasonable thing to say, Chuuya spoke again. “Of fucking course you had to throw another wrench into my plans! GOD! I really thought I got you this time too!” He scoffed before punching Dazai’s chest (hard enough to knock the air out of Dazai’s lungs), rolling his eyes and starting to walk away. “I swear I’ll get you next time, fucker.”
Dazai wheezed and coughed air back into his lungs as he processed, dazed expression hazily (and more than slightly indulgently) watching Chuuya stride away until he was completely out of eyesight.
A slight grin growing on his face, he waited a few moments before following behind. It seemed that Chuuya wasn’t any more deterred from his mission despite the what had been revealed; and Dazai was more than willing to continue to oblige his efforts so long as it meant that he got to see more of the other man.
After all, he knew that he was far from unattractive, who could truly blame Chuuya if today’s interaction sparked a new train of thought? Dazai certainly knew that he would be looking for opportunities to cause a new emotion to bloom into the other man.
After all, they truly did seem to be made for each other— constantly at odds, and always on-par. If they could spend the rest of their lives swooping around each other, outwitting and leveling the bar, Dazai would be more than satisfied.
He stepped out of the parking garage and hummed a jaunty tune, eagerly awaiting the next time that he and Chuuya would be inexplicably intertwined.