Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Morning light seeps through the curtains. A few rays graze the tall figure wrapped up in a haphazard blanket burrito on the king-sized bed. The door to the room slams open and the figure curls in on itself further as it answers with muffled groaning. In the doorway is a redheaded man with a tray of delectable breakfast in one hand. He halts at the edge of the bed, setting the tray on the nightstand gently, a contrast to his treatment toward the door.

"Oi. Breakfast is done, shitty Dazai," he grumbles as he nudges the mattress with his knee. He watches a mop of dark hair emerge from the comforter and finds the bane of his existence, looking up at him with a scrunched up expression. He thinks to himself: " Why did I ever think this was a good idea? "

Chuuya, trying to be a good, loving boyfriend, had bought a coupon book filled with cute little date ideas or acts of love to give to Dazai four days ago. It was embarrassing when the taller man had taken it, but began comparing Chuuya to a lovesick teenager to really drill the nail in Dazai’s metaphorical coffin.

"I bought it to make him feel better. But he's actually starting to use it. After poking fun, the asshole."

"Chibi is gonna spoon feed me."

Chuuya’s anger comes immediately. "Hah? Why the fuck should I? You have working hands!"

A lethargic yawn and long limbs burst forth from above the sheets into a stretch. The redhead grimaces at the amount of cracks popping through the air. Finally, Dazai relaxes with a subtle smile. "I'm too tired. Chuuya should make it up to me for waking me up so rudely."

"I literally made coffee and breakfast for your ungrateful ass," Chuuya deadpans while the other’s expression ceases to change, much to the redhead's dismay. "Plus, 'rudely' my ass. I have half a mind to chuck this in your face."

"Chuuya, you don't have half a mind because your brain is too tiny. Not only that, it got shrunk down from being eaten by your hat,” A salacious grin. “You know, the tacky one you always wear. I’ve told you before, it’s cursed."

The shorter man is surprisingly silent and Dazai blinks, wondering if he broke Chuuya already and almost voices his curiosity until Chuuya speaks in an abnormally sweet tone. “I suppose I can indulge in feeding you a little bit.” To Dazai’s horror, he sees a smile so innocent, it could have fooled him. “Open wide, Mackerel."

Could have if he didn’t spot the numerous hardback cover books floating around Chuuya, that familiar red tinge glowing along his frame. Chuuya proceeds to make Dazai regret asking him to feed him.

Dazai is under a few books Chuuya had thrown at him as he groans out, “You’re not cute. Not at all. I take everything back."

"If you can start making the same shitty jokes, then you have the energy to eat your fucking food," the ginger hisses exasperatedly, "With no assistance."

Before Dazai can even think of responding, he feels the tray rest against his lap and actually takes a good look at what Chuuya’s prepared today. Dazai has to admit to himself, it makes his mouth water: the subtleness of cinnamon from the bread and hazelnut from the coffee wafting his nose.

Dazai lifts the mug to his lips, sipping the coffee carefully while Chuuya recovers the books. He releases a low hum of approval shortly after as Chuuya turns away to hide his pleased smirk. "Now I'm gonna get my coffee. It'll only be a minute. Don't make a mess," the ginger warns before storming out of the bedroom.

"You already made a mess from being violent as usual, my love," he calls out, chuckling when he hears a muffled “Go to hell'' from Chuuya. 

Dazai's focus shifts back onto the large plate of food in front of him.

Eight finely browned pieces of French toast made with the baguettes Chuuya ordered from his favorite bakery, drizzled with kuromitsu. There's color along the edges of the plate from thinly sliced strawberries and a scoop of vanilla ice cream. It appears slightly more bon vivant than he's used to, but it wouldn't be his lovely Chuuya without his adopted standards (courtesy of big-sis figure, Kouyou).

He starts digging into the bread, practically moaning when its tender texture and vanilla sweetness bursts in his mouth. Suddenly, he thinks about certain members of the agency that talk about the joy of cooking meals together. He’d been invited a few times, but couldn’t bring himself to join. The euphoria of being taken care of and treated well via home-cooked meals seemed something he wouldn’t be able to have, much less deserve. Dazai wonders if Chuuya would mind making a big feast, but granted they’re still from opposing organizations, it wouldn’t be easy to mediate the tension. Still, Chuuya gave him another chance and Dazai thought that it would be fruitless at first. It’s given Dazai more hope in giving things a try.

Chuuya returns, nursing his coffee mug, but noticeably pauses by the door. Dazai looks up at him and finds him smiling rather softly in the brunet’s direction and it causes Dazai’s brain to short-circuit for a few seconds.

"What's that face for, Slug?" Dazai inquires between chews, "You're scaring me."

The latter's smile slips away from its sincerity into a huff. "Good. Maybe you'll get a heart attack if I keep at it."

The redhead settles down next to him, procuring his own fork to grab a piece when Dazai leans against him.

"Chuuya~"

A grunt of admission and Dazai coos at Chuuya's slightly chubby cheek, fighting the temptation to pinch it. The brunet instead whispers into the other man’s ear, "Feed me like a good servant."

"Don't make me punch you in the mouth."

Dazai pouts before dutifully going back to eating his portion, ignoring Chuuya's gripes that demand he pace himself.

“Here, dumbass. You eat like an animal.” Chuuya tuts, stealing the fork from between Dazai’s fingers. He uses his own knife to slice smaller pieces, dabbing them in a mix of the dark, sweet syrup and the slowly melting ice cream. He stabs a piece and lifts it near Dazai’s lips, who happily bites it off. Chuuya is masking his thoughts on how adorable his boyfriend is acting (and failing miserably due to his flushed cheeks).

Once Dazai finishes the four slices reserved for him, he attempts to steal some of Chuuya’s, earning him a halfhearted slap. He whines a bit before surrendering. He hears the other man sigh before feeling a gentle nudge against his bicep.

Dazai turns to see Chuuya's averted gaze as he offers his last piece. Dazai gleams and takes the piece, taking his time to savor it before swallowing. It’s come to Dazai's attention that he’s definitely full and he is overcome with a slight weight of guilt, but he shrugs it off. He tries to hold onto what Chuuya told him roughly a week before.

"What's eating you now, Dazai?"

Dazai couldn't see his beloved. He was too keen on keeping his head submerged under the covers, suffocating him. But he knew it wasn't enough to take his last breath. He felt the edge of the bed dip, but nothing else.

The two of them had been dating in secret for about five months since their truce against the Guild. For the sake of Chuuya's sanity, he doesn't mention his suicidal tendencies. Although he was aware it wouldn't stop Chuuya from knowing about them.

"Why do you still care about me?"

"Do I need a reason to?"

"It just doesn't make sense. I'm anything but caring towards you."

"Yeah. You're also notorious for being full of shit."

Dazai gave a wry smile. Chuuya tugged the covers away from Dazai and the moonlight was more ethereal than any other night. The way it flowed beyond him was beckoning him from the covers. Chuuya looked angry, but not in the usual way in which he's pestered or an opponent gets the drop on him. His gaze held the ferocious love Dazai's come to know.

"You still have unfinished business. So, I'm not gonna let you rot. Even if that's what you want." Chuuya waited for Dazai to respond, before adding, "You can't keep feeling guilty over good things happening to you."

Dazai breathed in those words, for they became another forgiveness he couldn't see coming. "...There's still a lot I haven't answered for." 

"Well, instead of apologizing, since I know that's hard for you, why don't you say—"

"Thank you, Chuuya."

The mug Chuuya brings to his lips stops and he lowers it. Chuuya, slightly taken aback by the genuineness, presses a light kiss to Dazai's lips. They share a subtle tasting sweet blend of cinnamon and vanilla.

They separate as Dazai opens his eyes to Chuuya's, and he feels like he's truly awake now. His soul has slipped into crystalline waters. It's that shock of coolness overwhelming him. Not downright freezing like Yokohama Bay's water during the harsh winter he jumped into a few times, but more like a cold hand caressing him down, promising he won’t be hurt as the currents cradle him along safely. At first glance, it terrified him to be this close, but all Dazai wants to do is sink down further.

His Chuuya, coming to his rescue, riding the white caps to pull him back to safety and Dazai comes to the conclusion he wouldn’t mind waking up to more of this.

"You're welcome, Osamu."

For the first time in years, Dazai Osamu wakes up to a beautiful morning; a morning he doesn't contemplate taking himself out of the equation.

Chapter Text

The moment Chuuya opens the door to his apartment, he can hear a familiar tune from the television. It seems Dazai is still playing Final Fantasy IX, which is what he was doing before the shorter man left for work. He caught him starting the game yesterday morning, but forced him to stop around bedtime. He refuses to let Dazai go back to his horrible habit of pulling all-nighters. Even if Final Fantasy IX happens to be one of Chuuya's favorite video games.

“I’m home,” he announces, slipping out of his loafers to transfer his feet into his more comfortable house slippers. He sets his hat and keys down on the slim table next to the door. There’s no reply. Dazai’s too engrossed in the game, which Chuuya admits is a bit adorable, but it won't stop him from tying the fucker to the bed and forcing him to sleep if he has to. Although, he would definitely make too many kink jokes about it, so Chuuya discards that thought. His worried frown morphs into an annoyed one while approaching the couch Dazai is sprawled across. He analyzes Dazai’s face, definitely seeing dark circles underneath his eyes. “You look like shit. Did you eat the leftovers from last night?”

“Yes, mom. Very good,” the brunet says without a blink, eyes still glued to the screen. Dazai winces when he is promptly smacked atop the head. “Ow! Violent rugrat!”

The redhead ignores him and wanders into the kitchen. He finds there is only one plate soaking in the sink, which slightly gives him relief. Having Dazai eat at all without telling him to is a miracle in itself. Chuuya opens the fridge, eyes calculating something feasible to cook. “Hey, I'm thinking of omurice. Does that sound good, Dazai?” 

Dazai brings up the game’s menu screen at last, the nostalgic world map theme chiming in the background. “Actually, can you come here for a second?”

Chuuya lifts his brow, but doesn’t protest. After shutting the door, he pads back over to Dazai, who is now sitting up with his hand held up. Chuuya's mood instantly sours. Pinched between his fingers is a slip Chuuya’s become well acquainted with. If Dazai wanted to get out of a chore or responsibility, he’d give Chuuya a ‘Chore Free Day’ coupon. If Chuuya was angry and about to take it out on Dazai, the fucker would have a shit-eating grin on his face while tauntingly flicking the ‘Get Out of Jail’ coupon in front of him. The purpose of that particular coupon: Dazai wins by default, so even if Chuuya happened to start an argument, nothing would come of it. Dazai must go unpunished according to this coupon’s terms.

He doesn’t know who came up with these baffling ideas, but naturally, Dazai is abusing this newfound power. Chuuya only thought this annoying little book was going to be full of tickets for nice gestures. Certainly not weapons used against him. In order to keep it fair, Chuuya would accept just one coupon per day, which Dazai accepted with a bit of reluctance. Much like Chuuya currently had reluctance taking this coupon and reading it. He reads out, “Game on?”

Dazai nods. “I can order take-out so you won’t need to cook dinner. We’ll play whatever game I want.”

The redhead immediately leans over to wrap his arms around the other man, craning his chin on that broad shoulder. He slumps into Dazai’s chest like a weight has been lifted off him for not having to cook, especially after the mentally-draining day he’s had. “I accept if you're ordering from Sukiya."

Dazai sets the controller down and reaches for his phone while keeping an arm draped around the shorter man. He quickly orders gyudon for Chuuya and tempura-don for himself. Upon seeing the receipt on his phone screen, he tosses his phone back on the cushion and it lands near the controller.

“In about twenty-six minutes, it’ll be here.” Dazai runs his hand down Chuuya’s back, receiving a relaxed hum which rumbles into his ear. “Busy day?”

A much more displeased hum graces Dazai’s ear and he feels a sympathetic smile coming. “So much paperwork. It’s the actual worst. I know it’s necessary, but it’s the one thing I dread after a fuck-ton of field work.”

“Mm, but Chuuya’s very much a workaholic,” Dazai muses out loud, continuing to rub the small of his boyfriend’s back. “Paperwork happens to be something I still need to do at the agency. Who knew switching sides wouldn’t relieve me of such a taxing task?”

A snort and Chuuya turns to fix the brunet with an unamused gaze. “First of all, you hardly ever did it. You would usually push that shit onto me," he grumbles, brow furrowing at the other man's scoff. "Second of all, I don’t even have to be at the agency to know you’re not doing paperwork. I just know you’re still not doing it. Definitely shoving it toward some poor soul.”

“Chibi knows nothing of what I do.”

It's Chuuya's turn to scoff. He slides off of Dazai's lap into the empty seat. He glances at the screen, observing the stats of Dazai’s party. “Level fifty-two? Fuck, you've been at it.”

"I was eager to see what Chibi loves so much about this game."

"You didn't have to rush through it. You could've taken breaks."

“I'm almost done with the main game. Not sure if aiming for full completion is in my sights, but it’s been very easy to get through so far."

Chuuya sputters. It never ceases to amaze and piss him off in equal measure how efficient Dazai is at playing video games. “Oh yeah? What about finding Black Mage Village?”

“Of course you struggled with that.”

“Fuck off. You must've looked it up online or something!” he exclaims, watching Dazai stick his tongue out. Chuuya gets startled by the hand ruffling his neat hair.

“Chibi’s just jealous he can’t finish a game as fast as me.” Chuuya huffs and crosses his arms, simmering down when his stomach decides to grumble. Dazai retrieves the controller and proceeds to poke around Mount Gulug while the man next to him watches. They fall into a conversation about the game, its design and story, what's impeccable about it and the things that happen to frustrate them (mostly on Chuuya's end). Dazai can't help but smile as he hears Chuuya go on and on about the protagonist, Zidane. "It sounds like you have a crush on him."

Chuuya chuckles. "Used to when I first played. I think I was seventeen by that time. Now, I just admire him."

Dazai notes how wistful he sounds. He surprises himself with the burst of eagerness he suddenly gains, wanting to finish the game more than before.

"Well, at least your taste has gotten better since," the brunet comments.

"Are you claiming to be an upgrade?"

Dazai fakes a pout. “So Chuuya would rather be with a guy that has a literal monkey tail. Furry.” He hops off the couch, narrowly dodging the punch coming at his shoulder with a laugh.

Their budding shenanigans come to a halt when they hear the doorbell chime. “Must be the food.” The redhead stands and shuffles toward the front door. He cracks it open and greets the delivery woman bowing casually, presenting the bag of food which Chuuya takes. “Thank you,” he says, watching her smile and turn away without a single word.

Dazai approaches from behind and wraps his arms tightly around Chuuya as soon as the door closes. “I could dress up as him one day to appease your fantasy,” he whispers.

“Enough! I had a crush! Past tense, you mummy,” Chuuya groans, freeing himself from the embrace. Dazai follows him to the dining room table, where Chuuya places the bag to open it. The smell hits both of their noses, and if Dazai hadn’t realized how hungry he was, he certainly did now.

“Let’s eat so we can start our little competition.”

Chuuya is setting their plastic take-out bowls on the table with chopsticks and napkins. He asks near absent-mindedly, “Competition? What do you want to play?”

“Smash. We’ll make it a bet too!”

“Huh? Why?”

Dazai brings up his hand, attempting to cover his growing smile. “What’s this? Is Chuuya afraid?”

“Like hell,” Chuuya mutters, his brows close-knitted in thought. “It’s just that you’ve chosen the game, you’re going to set a bet, all because of the coupon you gave me that I have to entertain! This is all some sort of scheme of yours.”

“The game’s more exciting that way! But okay, if Chuuya doesn’t want to pursue the bet...”

The shorter man’s eyes narrow. “What is it?”

“If I win, Chuuya must make a big feast for me and my coworkers.”

“Excuse me?!”

The brunet placatingly puts his hands up. “And if Chuuya wins, well, I'll let you decide what you want me to do.”

The shorter man sets his bowl down, staring at Dazai as if he had grown a second head. “Hold the fuck up, Dazai. What the fuck do you mean I'll make a big feast for you and your coworkers? I don’t mind cooking, but did you really forget that we don’t get along? Opposing organizations and all?”

Dazai reaches out to cup Chuuya’s face delicately. “Don’t fret your pretty, little head over that. I’ll take care of it, dear. You just focus on losing.”

“Oi, I’m not just gonna let you win,” he deadpans.

“I’m obviously going to beat you.”

"Fuck you. You're on, you bastard!" Chuuya fires, picking his bowl back up to start chowing down.

"Don't choke before it’s even started!" Dazai teases before focusing on his own meal.

Chuuya does end up choking. With loss.

They played three rounds with five stocks. In addition, they couldn’t pick the same character they already played in another round. Despite that, Dazai still triumphed. Chuuya ended up winning one round (Dazai claims he let him win that one, but Chuuya told him to “eat shit.”), so it wasn’t a complete annihilation of his damaged pride.

The brunet turns toward his dispirited opponent, poking his cheek as a method of taunting him. “Too bad, Slug.”

Chuuya lets out a groan, letting his head drop against his knees. “A big feast, was it? So want to tell me when the hell that’s happening?”

The taller man blinks, almost forgetting what was at stake. “I’ll let you know with another coupon,” he says, grinning at the other’s scowl. “You can choose what you want to end up making. Make it easy on yourself,” planting the suggestion just to see the other’s reaction because taking it easy is never Chuuya’s style.

He gives Dazai a flat look as if to say “ Do you know who I am? ” and a knowing smirk spreads on the brunet’s face.

Chuuya stands up, eyes brimming with determination. “I’m gonna show those assholes how great of a cook I am!” he shouts while Dazai applauds with a cheer. That is until Chuuya turns to him and points. “And you’re gonna help.”

Dazai pauses. “Eh? But Chibi didn’t win. He can’t order me around!”

“Do you want your crab croquettes that day?” When Dazai remains silent, ultimately nodding with a grimace, Chuuya feels the high of a real winner. “That’s what I thought.”

Chapter Text

Dazai blearily opens his eyes. He pokes his head out from the blanket. Chuuya’s nowhere next to him or anywhere around the bedroom. No noise from the adjacent bathroom. He waits for about two minutes to gauge his presence in the kitchen, finding it empty. He fishes out his phone and checks the time. It's almost noon and he has seventeen missed calls from Kunikida (each one having a voice-mail attached), two missed calls from Atsushi with one voice-mail, and a text from Chuuya.

He immediately taps the alert from ‘Slug’ and reads the following message: Don't forget to eat. Breakfast is in the fridge. AND FOR THE LOVE OF GOD WASH YOUR FUCKIN DISHES!!!!

He smiles before going to Atsushi's voice-mail.

"Dazai-san, please come in. Kunikida-san's, um, y'know. Losing it," A brief pause. "If you aren't feeling well, please let any of us know."

And then, nothing else. Not a 'hope you're feeling okay' or whatever fake pleasantries and well wishes sound like. Although Dazai would be foolish to expect that from his fellow detectives. If Atsushi knows he’s not feeling well, then of course, Dazai’s just being cruel for prolonging the inevitable return. He always goes back as if nothing happened.

He pushes himself to sit upright and stares at the window. Chuuya seems to have left the curtains closed as a mercy, but it wasn't necessary, for the sky's overcast. He sighs heavily before standing up.

He wonders if it'll rain, not that he’ll bother to take an umbrella.

He stands for a while, mulling over if it’s worth going into work today or not.

"Look who finally showed up after a week of complete silence," Ranpo calls out from the other side of the room, waving at Dazai who just entered the office.

The droning of shuffled papers, typing, and calm chatter ceases. Everyone turns their heads toward the door.

"Ah, Dazai-san—!" Atsushi rises from his seat and is about to greet Dazai, but is interrupted by a loud screech from one office chair skidding abruptly across the floor. It’s Kunikida, standing up.

"Where the hell have you been?! I've called you two-hundred and forty-seven times throughout the week! I even texted you if it was such a bother to talk on the phone, and nothing came from you!"

Dazai cups his own cheek, playfully batting his lashes. "Kunikida-kun was worried about little ol’ me?"

"No!"

Tanizaki and Atsushi offer each other exasperated but relieved smiles as they observe the exchange.

"Just admit it! You missed me."

"You have been avoiding us!"

Tanizaki pitches in, "We even knocked on the door to your room, but you never answered."

Kunikida nods. "Because of this, I used my ability to make a spare key. But when we checked inside, you weren't there. However, Ranpo-san told us not to worry."

Dazai starts to actually feel guilty. Especially at the mention of Ranpo, who he definitely feels staring at him. It’s at that moment, Dazai ponders, “If I don't say anything, Ranpo might. If he hasn't already...”

Since he’s been dating Chuuya in secret, he has a strong feeling Ranpo might know. Nothing really sneaks past him, so Dazai had taken it upon himself to be handling the pick-up of Ranpo’s favorite snacks while splurging a bit more as a form of incentive. However, not coming into work for the past week may have screwed that up. Dazai doesn’t pin Ranpo to be the kind of guy to dish out secrets like gossip. However, even snack-delivery being delayed can gray the man’s morals.

"I've been staying with someone."

"Who? It can't be any of us. Unless someone's been hiding you away," Kunikida surmised, shifting his gaze at everyone present.

"Nope," Ranpo quickly dismisses as he puts a hand in the air to shoo the idea away.

Kunikida crosses his arms, tapping his foot with impatience. Dazai calculates he’s two ticks away from popping a blood vessel. "Is this person you're staying with a client?"

Dazai chews the inside of his cheek, trying his best to not glare at Ranpo for looking way too smug at his current predicament. "No. I've learned not to do that again."

Kenji interjects like it's a game now. "Someone we know then?"

Dazai debates whether to tell it to them straight or if it should be a surprise. He wants them to be aware of Chuuya, but revealing it now could possibly jeopardize their relationship, especially by making it known to the Port Mafia. Both he and Chuuya share a fear of Mori and Kouyou finding out. Mori would never let Dazai live it down and Kouyou, well, she’s always disliked Dazai. She’d probably kill them both (Chuuya for being stupid enough to interact with a traitor and Dazai for being Dazai). Although putting it as a surprise is more or less asking the agency to be more on guard, so he should rip off the bandage now. He has faith in them after all.

"Yes," he says with a smile to Kenji, watching him start to think. He looks around the room to find that everyone is heavily deep in thought.

"Katai?" Yosano offers. Dazai scowls, shaking his head and she laughs out loud. "Worth a shot."

He doesn't miss the way Ranpo so stealthily puts his hand close to Yosano's ear, shielding his mouth as he whispers. The way she parts her lips slightly with genuine surprise. He must have given her a closer hint. Ranpo's enjoying this way too much. Does Dazai deserve it? Maybe, but it doesn't make it any less cruel of him to literally watch him squirm.

"Who is it?" Kunikida groans as he unfurls his arms and steps closer to Dazai. "I can’t entertain this guessing game! We're too far behind on schedule as—"

"Chuuya-san," mutters a gentle voice. A hush falls over the room. His heart is pounding and he’s unsure if everyone can hear it. Dazai looks at Kyouka, meeting her bright gaze. "It's him, isn't it?"

His hands fidget in his pockets. "How did you guess?"

Before she can give him an explanation, multiple cries from shock arise, ultimately startling her into quietude. Dazai feels if it were any louder, the windows would’ve shattered. He’s unsurprised when Kunikida grabs him by the front of his coat, no doubt preparing to yell at him.

“Explain,” he growls. “What the hell are you doing with a Port Mafia Executive?”

Everyone’s eyes are on them, silently waiting; some with trepidation, some wary, and at least one person who’s very relaxed like everything will be fine at the end of the day. And that’s all Dazai needs to remain calm if that look means anything to him. It's going to be okay. It has to.

Atsushi looks like he wants to speak up from behind Kunikida, but isn’t sure what to say. He’s watching Dazai’s collar bunched up in the blond’s hands with such nervousness, Dazai wants to smile and tell him not to worry. Smooth things over by saying something stupid like ‘not in front of the children, Kunikida-kun ’.

But he has a mission and jokes are unfortunately out of the question. He needs to be serious.

“Well, as some of you know, I have a history with him,” Dazai starts. Yosano and Ranpo snort, but pretend to look unamused when Dazai whips his head to scowl at them. He feels the fists bundling the fabric of his coat shake angrily, calling him back to focus. Dazai sighs. “To put it delicately, we’ve been seeing each other for the past few months.”

“Any reason for that?” Kunikida prods tersely.

“We're friends?” Dazai tries, sounding slightly resigned, as if he already knows what Kunikida is thinking. That perhaps Dazai shouldn’t be trusted. Their partnership has been a ruse since the beginning.

However, his partner says none of the sort.

The tension is broken when Yosano says with a mirthful gaze that Ranpo's sporting as well, "Very close friends."

Dazai blinks, seeing this as a good sign. No one also seems to be upset by the looks of it, just surprised. Except Kunikida.

“I don’t want this to jeopardize this agency. If you are in contact with a Port Mafia Executive, then I must bring it up to the President. This is a considerable offense and threat he needs to be aware of.”

He's still not accusing Dazai of anything traitorous, and that's puzzling enough.

Dazai sighs, shrugging off his hands. "Then I'll tell him. This is my matter to deal with."

"I'll still accompany you to be a witness."

"Suit yourself, Kunikida-kun~"

With that, Kunikida and Dazai make their way to the door of the President’s personal office. Kunikida knocks, waiting until he hears a commanding ‘enter’.  When they walk in, Dazai sees three sets of eyes on them. Naomi and Haruno are in one corner of the room, probably chatting with each other before Kunikida knocked. Fukuzawa is seated on a chair with Haruno’s cat on his lap.

The moment the door is shut, Kunikida bows. Dazai follows suit. “President, apologies for the disturbance. We’ve something that needs your immediate attention.”

“Kunikida, what have you discovered? Do the girls need to leave the room?”

His partner looks at him and gestures to the president. Dazai supposes that is his cue to start speaking. He breathes in to soothe his nerves and he goes, "They can stay. Everyone needs to hear it. I've been dating Nakahara Chuuya from the Port Mafia."

Kunikida's jaw drops. "That's—That's not what you said out there!"

The girls gasp and Fukuzawa’s brow furrows. He doesn’t look as angry as Dazai thought he’d be. It reads more to him as concern. “For how long?”

“Five months. It’s been under wraps. For the past week, I've been staying with him.”

“And you were staying with him of your own volition?” At Dazai’s responding nod, Fukuzawa’s stern gaze relaxes a touch. “Well, I hadn’t guessed you were seeing each other for that long,” he muses, nonchalantly petting the cat.

Kunikida whips his head so quickly, Dazai hears his neck crack and normally, he would’ve laughed, but he’s stunned from the fact that Fukuzawa had known.

“You knew of this, President?”

Fukuzawa calmly plays with the cat’s ears. “Ranpo had told me Dazai and Nakahara were meeting in secret. I only asked if it would bring any harm to Dazai and the agency in the future, but he said no with utmost confidence. I didn’t press on the matter if the meetings were meant to be casual.”

So, Ranpo had known about it since the beginning. And if Ranpo vouches for anything, Fukuzawa listens. Kunikida seems to finally relax his posture, but all it takes is one glance at his expression to know he’s still troubled by it.

“What if it’s a trap?”

Dazai’s only slightly annoyed at his partner for suggesting Chuuya could even act and play Dazai for a fool. But he supposes it’s a valid concern.

“Then of course, it will be a matter I’ll handle personally with Mori,” Fukuzawa mutters distastefully, but regains his composure quickly. “I won’t doubt Ranpo’s judgment. Much less Dazai’s. It’s undisputed that he knows Nakahara more than anyone else. If their relationship is truly casual with no ulterior motives from either end, then there’s no reason to be involved.”

The girls in the room squeal from their corner, "Dazai-san dating? Now that's rich!"

Dazai rubs the back of his neck sheepishly at their reaction. He peeks at Kunikida, seeing that the man looks down in surrender.

“Is that all, gentlemen?”

Kunikida sighs dejectedly. “Yes President. We’ll take our leave.”

He grabs Dazai’s shoulder and tugs him out of the room, back into the main office where everyone tries to seem like they’ve been busy. Definitely not eavesdropping.

"All of this could've been avoided. I made an ass of myself back there because of you. I'm almost half an hour behind schedule, you bastard! You are not missing a day of work, no matter if you retreat to Nakahara’s! You pay your dues today! I’ll tape you to your chair if I have to so you can get it all done!"

Dazai pouts. “Why is Kunikida acting like I’m the reason he wasted time?”

“Shut up! I’m going back to my desk! Don’t bother me!” The blond man grits his teeth, flipping his notebook open to quickly switch some tasks around to remediate all of the time he’s lost. He retreats to his own desk.

“So,” Ranpo whistles nonchalantly, “Mr. Fancy-Hat, huh?”

Yosano smirks. "See, I couldn't really put my finger on it, but knew there had to be something spicy going on between you two."

"Oh, wouldn't you like to know, sensei?" Dazai teases.

"Please don’t. I’ve had my fill," Ranpo groans, taking his feet off the desk to plant on the floor. One step closer to standing up and retreating out of the room. Yosano points to Dazai.

“Text me the details of you getting together,” she says with finality before heading back to finish cleaning up the clinic room. Dazai makes his way to Kunikida’s desk and everyone promptly goes back to work.

“Kunikida-kun~”

The blond man hunches further into his desk, scribbling furiously and pointedly not raising his head to address Dazai.

"Earth to Kunikida—"

The pen in Kunikida's hand snaps in his grasp. "What!? I told you not to bother me! I'm behind enough as it is."

"What if you were to meet Chuuya tomorrow?”

“I’ve already seen Nakahara and I don’t care to see more of him. Work-related meetings are enough.”

“Oh come on, Kunikida-kun! I’ll be better about coming into work!”

Everyone pokes their heads out from their own task, stunned.

“Without being late,” the blond adds.

“Alright, fine.”

“And you’ll remain productive for as long as you are here, meaning you do everything that’s stacked up on your desk and don’t even think about handing it off to Atsushi or anyone else.”

Dazai sounds less willing, but he doesn’t whine or roll his eyes. “Whatever Kunikida requires, I'll do all of it.”

Everyone is looking at Dazai with actual wonder, especially Kunikida, who looks like he’s either going to cry or go into shock. Some of them stare at him to gauge whether he’s serious or playing a really drawn-out joke. The agency is certainly a tough jury to convince, but he’s trying not just for Chuuya, but himself. 

The blond man regains his composure, pushing his glasses up. “Well, you’ll be working a bit late to catch up on your work. I’ve already spent so much time dividing it among the rest of us for the past week that there shouldn’t be much left.”

Dazai blanches when he looks over at the stack on his own desk. The resolve he built up is moments away from crumbling. “It still looks like too much.”

"Just do it! Now, if that is all, get to work!"

Dazai’s suddenly struck with an idea. “Hold on. What are some of your favorite dishes?”

His partner's face scrunches up in confusion. “Why?”

“It’s a surprise~!”

Dazai makes his rounds to everyone, asking their favorite foods before settling back to his desk begrudgingly.

…

After an hour, he finishes looking over three reports, before he procures a headache. He throws himself back against his chair, a groan escaping from him. Atsushi completely stopped looking in his direction by the fifth outburst. Dazai motions for Kyouka, who’s sitting near Atsushi.

“Kyouka-chan, may I ask how you guessed it was Chuuya? You didn’t get to answer me earlier.”

“He looked pretty sad after you left. Even months after, there was a look that never went away. You two were close, even though you both made it seem like you hated each other,” she pauses before gazing directly at him. “Sometimes you have a soft look when you’re staring off into space. That same look comes when you hear about Chuuya-san.”

“Observant, aren’t you,” Dazai mutters, a bit perturbed at being analyzed by a fourteen-year old.

She shrugs. “Take care of him. Or someone else will be mad at you.”

He doesn’t ask who that someone else is. It’s just a bit surprising getting a shovel talk from a fourteen-year old as well. Atsushi lets out a nervous chuckle.

Hearing Atsushi, Dazai grins at him and asks, “By the way, Atsushi-kun, do you have Akutagawa-kun’s number?”

“Did you go back to hating me?” Chuuya scrunched his brows together, so Dazai specified, “After I left.”

They were out, staring at the night sky from Chuuya’s balcony. Dazai was sitting on a dining chair Chuuya pulled out for him to relax. The shorter man was standing and having a cigarette to incinerate some complicated thoughts whirling in his head in silence. And here was Dazai, just dumping more of his issues onto him, but they’d put it off to the side for so long, he just had this childish inclination to know.

“I thought I did. I was pissed off with you.”

A wave of relief smoothed over him. “But you didn’t hate me?”

“No,” Chuuya paused, tapping his cigarette against the bars, knocking off some built-up ash, “Initially, I was angry at you for leaving without a word. But then, I thought maybe I wasn’t a good enough partner. That somehow, I made you feel like you couldn’t trust me.”

He had another drag of his cigarette, trembling slightly. Dazai’s heart cracked at the sight.

“Of course it wasn’t you, Chuuya. You were fantastic. You are fantastic.”

Chuuya blinked at him and smiled. “Why are you trying to convince me? It’s in the past.”

Because reassurance never occurred to him. That his past can’t change, but it could help heal the wounds that still stung. Dazai’s hardly ever been reassured, but if it’s all he can offer Chuuya now, he’ll fucking do it. For the times Chuuya sat alone on the couch, mocking terrible shows to be answered back in echoing silence. The times he bandaged up his own wounds after missions that caught the mafia by surprise. The times he made meals for two out of habit and just chalked it up to being ahead on meal prep.

He’ll spend the rest of his life (however long that is) to remind Chuuya how much he wants life with him in it. Especially if it’s these small strokes of ordinary life to come back to. That’s what he wants.

But he settled with, “I'm not sure.”

He was, and Chuuya knew it was bullshit.

Chuuya walked over and captured his lips. It was so light, so fleeting. The exact wonder of a feather floating through the air before Dazai. His angel pulled away, bringing him back to Earth. “You can be so cute sometimes.”

The clouds are broken by hues of oranges and yellows by the time Dazai returns from work, caught up on his reports for the first time. It’s very rare that he actually gets here after Chuuya, but he had been hunched over his desk, reading until the letters jumbled to mere black lines. He kicks off his shoes and calls out, “I’m home, Chibi!”

Jazz music is playing out loud. Music that Dazai doesn’t particularly care for, but watching Chuuya wiggle around to it when he’s unaware of Dazai watching makes for a good pass time.

“Welcome back, asshole. Where’ve you been?”

“At work.” Chuuya sends him a look that challenges that notion. “I’m not joking, Chibi! I’ve been working very hard today.”

“This is all sorts of fucked up. I must be dreaming,” he mumbles, going back to the book sitting on his lap. 

Dazai drops a coupon onto the open book, giggling at Chuuya’s squawk.

"How is it you always have one of these? I hate you," he grumbles out with absolutely no bite, snatching the paper. His brows shoot up. “Body massage?”

In that brief pause, Dazai manages not to laugh as he watches the other man’s face turn to a brighter shade of pink. “If Chibi doesn’t mind. As I previously stated, I worked so hard today. His touch could really help me relax.”

“Please stop talking.” he releases a staggered exhale, staring at the coupon a moment longer. “Fine. I’ll massage your back.”

Dazai pouts. “But what if I want Chibi to massage something else?”

A smirk. “Should’ve given me a coupon that said something about handjobs if that’s really what you wanted. Too bad.”

“It’s a job that uses hands.”

“Dazai,” he warns.

“Fine, Chuuya.” he mutters, laying on his stomach on the couch. He wriggles out of his coat and tosses it over the couch’s backrest, ignoring how Chuuya clicks his tongue with irritation. He adjusts his body so his head is more comfortable against one pillowy arm. “Ah, before we start, I’m gonna tell you, the coupon I’m giving tomorrow is for the big feast.”

Chuuya sputters, his sleeves readily rolled up as he’s pulling the coffee table closer to the couch. “That soon? Fucking hell, Dazai. I have a meeting tomorrow.”

Dazai waves his hand. "No you don’t! I've pulled a few strings.”

The mafioso sits on the table, frowning. “What? What the fuck did you do?”

“Well, first off, you’re welcome. And I just told Akutagawa to let Kouyou know you were struck with a terrible cold.”

“Dazai, why in the hell would a cold keep me from going into a meeting?!”

The brunet deadpans, “Chibi’s stupidly putting others at risk with his nasty germs. Very inconsiderate of him.”

“I’m not even sick, asshole!”

“Your answer to the scenario says otherwise. You’d go to this meeting even if you had pneumonia. But being dumb is a debilitating disease.”

“Fuck you! I have responsibilities besides the meeting!”

Suddenly, Dazai lifts himself up to sit, appearing very serious. “Chuuya, are these other responsibilities the kind that only you can do?”

Chuuya huffs, chewing at his bottom lip. “Well, it’s sort of a day where I run training drills, and then if I have free time, I just spar. Mostly with the Black Lizard.”

The taller man reaches out to graze his cheek gently. “So nothing anybody else can’t handle for one day. Let Akutagawa-kun do the drills, or even Hirotsu-san.”

“That’s exactly why I’m concerned. You told Akutagawa of all people to handle it!”

“I did tell him not to send any trainees to the hospital. I know you’re a softie.”

Chuuya throws his head back with a grunt. “Can’t it wait some other time?”

“Nope.”

“I don’t even know what I’m gonna make!”

“I took care of that too,” Dazai says, twisting his torso to dig through his coat. He retrieves a folded piece of paper from the pocket to hand to Chuuya. The mafioso snatches it, unfolding and quickly scanning it. His jaw drops, for it's not some joke. Dazai really went out of his way to get an organized list of everyone’s preferred foods, about two or four options per person. Chuuya reunites with his eyes, such tenderness brimming in them.

"Okay, I don't hate you."

"You never hated me to begin with," he states matter-of-factly. His smile widens when Chuuya purses his lips, but doesn't protest. “So, are you still going to go to work, or will you trust the baby vampire to take care of it?”

Chuuya chuckles. “Fine. I’ll stop by the store first thing in the morning. Ready to be lulled into sleep?”

Dazai snorts at his boyfriend’s confidence. His crippling insomnia is hardly defeated by anything.

However, Dazai ends up falling asleep after half an hour of Chuuya rubbing soothing circular motions along the expanse of his back. Kissing his muscles with the heels of his palms. Dazai forgot how warm Chuuya’s hands are. They’re miniature heaters. Plus, he cheated by using the silkiest lotion Dazai’s ever felt on his own skin.

Chuuya plays with his brown locks for a bit, brushing some away from Dazai’s sleeping face. The mafioso plants a chaste kiss on his forehead before hauling Dazai up from the couch as gently as possible to take him to their bed. They have an early start ahead of them tomorrow.

Chapter Text

Chuuya opens his eyes, enveloped in warmth. Before he joined Dazai in slumber, he had his arms wrapped around Dazai's middle, ear pressed against the brunet's back to fall asleep to his rhythmic heartbeat. He took full advantage of him falling asleep first because he didn't have to ask (and be ridiculed) to be the big spoon for once. He releases a groan, recalling a time Dazai called him the cutest backpack. Somehow between falling asleep and waking up now, he's become the little spoon.

Chuuya slowly cranes his neck to check if Dazai's still asleep. His eyes are shut. Slowly, he lifts Dazai’s arm and rolls himself away from his hold, stilling whenever a grumble escapes from the sleeping man. However, Dazai remains blissfully undisturbed by the time Chuuya’s completely free. The redhead turns to check his phone on the nightstand and sees it’s almost five in the morning. Dazai’s nearing nine hours of sleep which fills Chuuya with so much satisfaction. The redhead pushes back his lover’s bangs and places a gentle peck on his temple.

The most the detective usually got was six and that in itself was a rarity. The mafioso will have to massage him more often.

Chuuya’s quick to shower, wanting to spend as little time as possible to go to the store, grab a few vegetables he’s missing for certain dishes he’s picked to do for the agency members, and ultimately get started on everything without Dazai.

Even though it would have been nice to have complete help for once, the idiot must go to work and Chuuya would spend way too much time teaching him how to do a lot of things. Especially when Dazai is eager to be a menace rather than helpful. He figures by the time he returns, his boyfriend will be up and complaining about how Chuuya abandoned him.

Dazai wakes up to find that Chuuya is gone from his arms. He pouts before wiping the sleep from his eyes. He rolls onto his back to stare at the ceiling and can draw the conclusion he slept for a very long time from the way his bones ache terribly.

He really regrets promising Kunkida he’d improve his work attendance and his work flow (or lack of) in general, but surely he can be granted a pass today. No one can drop their bad habits cold turkey after all. He can definitely trick Kunikida into thinking so. Just one more pass.

He doesn't move until he hears a presence moving about, presumably in the kitchen. The brunet stretches before hoisting himself out of bed. He doesn't bother brushing his teeth or hair. Instead, he trudges to the kitchen and the one thing he hears clearly now is the whirring of the dishwashing machine.

“Finally awake? You had me thinking you were actually dead,” Chuuya says, already packing bentos with finishing touches. From across the island counter, Dazai watches him place diced carrots that are shaped into flowers and the leftover discs the shapes were stamped out of into each box, dispersing them evenly. Some even go on top of freshly steamed broccoli to resemble flower bushes.

“Aw, you’re packing lunch like a stay-at-home mom.”

“Fuck off. You have kids working there, so it’s warranted. No one complains about a nice-looking lunch.”

Dazai put his hands up in mock surrender. “It wasn’t meant to be offensive, my dear. It’s just cute how much effort you put into this,” he chuckles at Chuuya’s subtle blush and averts the glare to scrutinize all of the boxes sitting on top of the counter. Every single box is filled, save for one that's only filled with a scoop of rice, burdock salad, and the cutesy carrots.

"Well, Chuuya seems mostly done. Except, he's not done with this one. It's missing something.”

"Ah, that’s yours. You want your crab croquettes, right?" Dazai nods and then freezes when Chuuya's smile turns cunning. It's not fair. That's his thing. "And you remember saying you were gonna help me?"

The detective whines. "Chibi, I just woke up. I haven't had breakfast yet."

"Eat toast or something,” he grunts as he briefly looks at the time on his phone. “You’re supposed to be at work in an hour. It's not gonna take that long to show you how to make them."

“Well, I can't deny spending more time with my hat rack. So what if I were a little late? It wouldn’t be so bad because I’m bringing lunch!”

“I’m the reason they have lunch to begin with, bastard.”

“Eh, semantics. The point is, Kunikida will simply cry at my kind consideration of his lunch money that he'll have no choice but to forget about the promise I made him yesterday.”

Chuuya just shakes his head, grumbling, “Give me a break.”

The detective walks over to Chuuya’s side, inspecting the bentos closer as the redhead pokes at onigiris with tweezers to make smiles with pieces of nori. “I had no idea you had this many boxes though. You practically have as many hats.”

Chuuya shrugs. “Too many of them look nice to just stick with one. Now, go wash your hands.”

He drags himself over to the kitchen sink, surprised to find there’s no dishes in it whatsoever as he starts rubbing his hands together with water and a bit of hand soap. Chuuya’s better about his efficiency in cleaning up as he cooks. When they were teenagers, there’d always be a huge stack waiting for them. Dazai would never help, content to watch the redhead angrily wash the load himself. When he finally heard about dishwashing machines from Kouyou from a time he ranted about dishes taking so much of his time, Chuuya immediately purchased and installed one in his home.

Dazai’s gaze passes over the boxes as he counts all of them, summing to eleven. He feels one is missing and mentally goes down the list: Atsushi, Kunikida, Kyouka, Kenji, Yosano, Ranpo, the Tanizaki siblings, Haruno, the president, myself. He gasps. “Chibi, aren’t you going to make lunch for yourself too?”

“Huh?” Chuuya looks at him, puzzled. “What are you talking about?”

“You’re coming with me!” Dazai beams. His face doesn’t fall when Chuuya still looks unsure.

“You know I’m not really supposed to be over there unless I have an order from Mori to do so. We’re only allies in some state of emergency issue. Not buddies.” 

“Chibi, we’re more than that now.”

“I know we are,” he stammers, “but didn’t we agree to be a secret? It’ll be suspicious as fuck if I come with you! One of them will know something’s up.”

Oh fuck. I forgot to tell him. Dazai swallows a lump in his throat, suddenly feeling a hot flash under the collar of his shirt. “Well, you see, about that…”

Chuuya narrows his eyes and grits out, “What?”

“I may have told them that we’ve been dating all this time,” Dazai mumbles. Chuuya inhales sharply through his nose and his eyes bulge. Yeah, he’s livid. He quickly adds, “It’s fine though! No one’s really alarmed by it. Ranpo knew without me telling him anything!”

Chuuya's frown doesn't go away. He releases his breath, fully turning to Dazai. “And what about the mafia? It’s only a matter of time before they find out. I can’t fucking believe you did this without consulting me,” he lets out a sardonic chuckle, “Actually, who am I kidding? You would! You do shit like this no matter how much it bothers me!”

Dazai winces, allowing the other man to smack his chest a few times. He thinks maybe it will help the redhead blow off some steam, but he pulls away, still fuming as he seals the bento boxes. Even the one meant for Dazai. Without his crab croquettes.

Yeah. I deserved that.

Dazai stands there, watching him neatly arrange each box into a hefty bag for Dazai to carry. Once he makes sure everything is secure, he shoves the bag into Dazai’s arms.

“Now get the fuck out. You’re walking to work and you’ve still got a nice fifty minutes to make it on time.”

“Chuuya, this is cruel. Even for you.”

“That makes two of us,” the shorter man retorts, folding his arms.

Dazai continues to whine regardless of Chuuya’s budding irritation, “Do you think I can carry this by myself? All the way over there?”

“It shouldn’t be a problem! You’ve carried heavier.”

“Yeah. I’ve carried you.” Though it’s never bothered me much.

Chuuya merely scoffs, the angry air around him suddenly dropping to a simmer while he turns on his heel, facing away from Dazai to start collecting the remaining ingredients from his cooking marathon. Dazai watches him storm around the kitchen for a few seconds. He sets the bag right onto the counter. The moment Chuuya closes the pantry door, the taller man takes the opportunity to wrap his arms around the shorter’s waist and pepper kisses to his cheek and neck. Chuuya’s rigid form melts into him. He glances at the brunet with less fire in his eyes. There’s a cautious flicker as he calmly states, “Acting like this isn’t gonna make this problem go away, Osamu.”

That settles Dazai’s nerves to know Chuuya’s not actually mad at him. He did make a mistake by not telling him. “I know you haven’t known many of the agency members on a personal level, but you can’t be so sure this will end up being a problem.”

“Did you forget why I’m concerned about the mafia knowing in the first place? I thought we shared the same pants-shitting thought of Mori and Ane-san finding out. We don't really know what he's gonna think about this, but Ane-san will definitely kill me when she hears I’ve been dating you.”

The corner of his lip quirks in amusement at Chuuya’s graceful tongue. “I didn’t forget. But do you want to hide it forever?”

Chuuya sighs somewhat blissfully, leaning his head into Dazai’s chest. “No,” he admits. “Of course not.”

"We'll figure it out," Dazai assures, giving Chuuya's core a light squeeze. "Together."

Chuuya doesn't say anything, but Dazai can see the beginning of a smile.

“Now then, will you go with me to the agency? Or would Slug rather stay and laze around as I slave myself away at my desk?"

Chuuya rolls his eyes with a scoff. Then, he feels Dazai slide his palm into his hand, a slip of paper between. He doesn't have to look to know what it is. “What’s it say?”

“Picnic time.”

A snort escapes. “You're typically supposed to have those outdoors. Like in a park, for instance."

"Well, I'm breaking tradition!" Dazai says.

"Idiot," Chuuya mumbles, nudging himself away from Dazai's hold. "Come on. We've wasted enough time."

Dazai watches Chuuya open the pantry door again to bring out some ingredients he put away in the heat of the moment. His heart flutters in his chest. "You mean…?"

"We have to be quick about it, but yes, we’re gonna make those croquettes."

Dazai cheers, following Chuuya's every move for the next twenty minutes with a dopey smile on his face the whole time. Mainly because Chuuya told him his attempts at shaping were lovely, even if they are pretty lumpy and deformed.

Chuuya states, "If they taste good, that's all that matters. And these are gonna taste like fucking perfection."

"Chuuya's food is always perfect."

The mafioso’s cheeks flush as he hoists up the bag on his shoulder and lets out a quick breath. He grabs his car keys and looks over to Dazai. "Okay. Let's go."

“We have to do something different.”

Dazai blinked away the dark spots from his staring contest with the ceiling. His eyes wandered to the direction of Chuuya’s voice. The bathroom light streaked a beam across the darkness and Chuuya’s frame glowed in its warm light. He was so beautiful and Dazai couldn’t fathom why this man loved him. A dog loves unconditionally, he supposed. But this dog was always different. “Different?”

“This thing between us," Chuuya wildly gestured with his hands, as if their dynamic was an indescribable phenomenon. Perhaps it was to other people.

Dazai frowned. He thought Chuuya wanted things back the way they were. To be like they used to be when they were teenagers, putting up with each other and having an unbreakable bond, despite all the vicious bickering and the trials and errors they came across. Entwined in the misery of their existence, breathing life into one another. That was not good enough anymore apparently. All good things do come to an end.

He put on a mirthless tone and said, “So Chuuya decided he’s had enough of me.”

Chuuya huffed, stomping back into the bathroom. His voice came out faint. “Asshole. That’s not what I meant and you know it.”

Dazai sat up when Chuuya didn't sound frustrated like usual. There was trouble and an urgency not unlike that of a dog whining. Of course, he knew what the redhead meant. Talk about their feelings, what’s troubling their minds, be functional human beings in a healthier relationship. But Dazai doesn’t do any of that. He's incapable of doing it.

At that moment, he felt a familiar sense of insecurity. He has it fixed in his mind that Chuuya deserves more than him, but the mafioso is too stupid to find it. He can’t provide anything better for him, but Dazai loves him too much to let go again. A day never went by where he hadn’t thought about Chuuya when they were separated. He’d been afraid of crawling back only to discover the root of his fear coming true: the redhead moving on.

The light was shut off and Chuuya stepped around in a blue hue. “Don’t twist my words. I like what we have, but it could be better.”

Dazai raised a brow. “How so?”

The redhead settled next to him on the bed, their thighs brushing. “Well, I want you to understand, I’m here for you. Even if your safety net’s gotten bigger, I’m here too.”

Chuuya must have meant the agency, but they’re undoubtedly tired of him as well.

“I want you to talk to me about stuff that’s on your mind before it’s too late. If you wait too long to clean a wound, it becomes infected, right?” Chuuya mumbled, tenderly pushing away some of the brunet’s hair. Dazai held his breath, leaning into the touch. “It won’t ever heal properly unless you do something about its festering.”

Dazai snorted. “Has Chuuya been getting more in touch with his poetry lately?”

A light shove against his arm. “Quit deflecting me.”

“Chibi, I’ve never really opened up like that. Not until Odasaku and Ango,” he smiled bitterly. “That went over well, didn’t it?”

Chuuya frowned. “So you think terrible things happen if you open up about yourself? Is that it?”

Dazai nodded mutely. He was aware of how ridiculous it sounded. He didn’t want it to be denied either. He doesn’t need pretty white lies he could see through, plain as day.

"What happened was out of your control."

"But it doesn’t change the fact I could have done something… different,” the brunet's lip twisted to a grimace. How annoying he couldn’t provide another word. Chuuya stayed still against his side, silent. “I keep thinking about how his life had ended for him before his death. Nothing could tether him once he became absolutely broken. I couldn’t even try to pick up the pieces. He had already made up his mind.”

Suddenly, Dazai felt a gentle stirring next to him and watched Chuuya, who had his head down, face hidden. “When you defected and I didn’t know where you were, I couldn’t stop thinking about you being dead out there and me not knowing. That you might’ve finished yourself off because it was the last straw.”

“Chuuya…”

“You give me a real scare every time you talk about offing yourself. I’ll bring you back to life and kill you myself if you do that, you bastard,” the redhead choked, turning his head away. Dazai swallowed the lump in his throat and reached for Chuuya’s wrist to get those gorgeous eyes to meet his. There were floods held within and it only took a merciless nudge from Dazai’s thumb for them to come out.

It was rare for Chuuya to cry, but Dazai had seen him hold back quite a lot. When they started to spill, something had pooled in his gut. Something akin to protectiveness.

“I didn’t think it’d hurt you so much,” he said, circling an arm around Chuuya’s waist.

“Yeah. Well, I care about you, dumbass."

He never knew what it meant to be struck by lightning, but Dazai felt it was close to hearing that confession, crystal clear. Dazai absolutely crushed Chuuya into a kiss. When Dazai pulled away, he hid into the crook of Chuuya’s neck and breathed him in. They fell onto the bed, arms wrapped around each other’s torsos, building a nest for their hearts.

“Did it help at all?”

Dazai pulled away slightly to meet Chuuya’s gaze and answered, “It’s hard to tell right now,” he noticed Chuuya’s frown and added, “But at least, I know where we stand. It might take a while.”

“Then I’ll wait. Just don’t forget that I’m here.”

“That might happen because you’re very hard to see at times.”

He felt a kick against his leg and chuckled as he grabbed Chuuya’s thigh before it could retreat. “I’m being serious. Don’t shut me out. Please.”

“I hear you, Chuuya. I know what you want,” he murmurs. He doesn’t express it, but he wants it too.

He braced himself against the stormy sea to find the gleam of the lighthouse in Chuuya’s eye. “Good.”

Dazai and Chuuya are climbing the stairs of the Armed Detective Agency’s building, making idle chatter on the way up. Chuuya could’ve made fun of Dazai complaining the whole time about them not using the elevator and how winded the man’s become, but he’s fighting an internal battle. The absolute dread of the current situation. He’s been an enemy to these people. Dazai’s friends. Now, they've been reluctant allies for the past few months.

When they finally reach the door, Chuuya stands a few feet away. Instead of reaching out to open the door, Dazai, seeming to sense Chuuya’s stress, turns back to him and offers what he hopes to be a soothing smile. “Are you ready?”

A grimace. “It’s just your shit friends. Nothing scary about that.”

“I didn’t say you were scared, did I?” Dazai quips as Chuuya sputters, before he opens the door. Kunikida fully comes into view, red in the face. He visibly tenses upon seeing Chuuya. Both of their demeanors are so identical that Dazai can’t contain his laughter. Kunikida straightens up and pushes up his glasses.

“Nakahara. May I speak to Dazai alone?”

A blink as he shifts his weight on his feet, hands in his pockets. “Don’t let me stop you from lecturing him.”

Kunikida looks somewhat puzzled. “Thank you,” the blond says quickly as he grabs Dazai by the collar, dragging him in through the agency’s doorway. 

The brunet dramatically draws out his hand toward Chuuya, yelling “Chibi, attack! Don't let him do this to your owner!” Chuuya promptly flips him off while the door shuts between them.

Everyone looks to them before deeming nothing is out of the ordinary. Kunikida releases his grip on Dazai, and looks rather calm. “You’re about ten minutes late. And what do you know, you brought Nakahara Chuuya here. The day after you admitted you've been dating. You get comfortable quickly."

"But I'm earlier than I've been in the history of ever!" Dazai says with a smirk.

"That may be true, but why the hell did you bring him here?!"

Dazai lifts up the bag and the blond stares at it. "He dropped me off so I could bring everyone's lunch quicker."

“Wha-?”

"Lunch? Is that why you were asking everyone that question yesterday?" Kenji asks, lifting himself from his seat. There’s sparkles in his eyes.

“You know, I was going to go to the cafe to grab something, but I won’t turn down free food,” Yosano comments, walking over to accept the first lacquered black wooden box from Dazai. She opens it and her eyes light up. “Oh my. That’s stunning.”

Naomi skips forward. “Is everyone’s lunch different? That must’ve taken so long!”

“It was all done this morning,” Dazai chirps.

Haruno wipes tears pricking the corners of her eyes. "I get one too? I'm so thankful!"

Dazai goes around handing out the remaining boxes to eager hands. Everyone looks moved to some degree, especially Atsushi. Poor kid started to cry when he saw the smiley-faced onigiri.

“I don't accept this! What if it's laced with something?” Kunikida questions, gaze burning holes into the bento box Dazai gave him. The brunet's aware of his curiosity.

Dazai gasps, clutching his chest with a hand. “You think I’d let my dog poison you? How cruel of you, Kunikida-kun!”

“For all we know, he probably only poisoned Dazai’s,” Ranpo jokes, then laughs at Kunikida’s alarmed face. “I'm obviously kidding. Seriously though,” the detective lifts his open box with crispy pieces of pork cutlet over rice, bloomed with vegetables on the sides. “This isn’t bad at all.”

Dazai pouts. “After the love and care I put into this idea, this is how I’m repaid? Being joked about?"

Fukuzawa raises his voice among the commotion. “Where’s Nakahara?”

“Ah, President. He’s just outside the door. Kunikida-kun rudely slammed the door in his face to lecture me instead of inviting him in as a guest,” the brunet reports, amused by Kunikida’s jaw drop.

“Best invite him in,” Fukuzawa says nothing more, but no one protests, so Dazai heads back toward the entrance.

Dazai opens the door, ready to call Chuuya in. Only to find he’s not there. A surge of panic runs through his veins. Dazai walks out, searching around the corridor. He sees a flash of red turn the corner. Chuuya’s heading back down the stairs.

“Chuuya! I almost didn't see you!” he calls out, rushing over. He hears the soles of shoes scuffle to a halt on the steps. Dazai fumbles down the flight and finds the redhead staring back at him over his shoulder. Dazai takes in his defeated expression. He calmly asks, “Where are you going?”

His posture slumps as he draws out a sharp breath. “I don’t think I’m welcome there.”

“Nonsense, Chibi. Don’t listen to Kunikida! He’s always a party-pooper. Everyone else is pleased. Just stick around a bit longer.”

The mafioso bites the inside of his cheek, ultimately giving in to Dazai's pleading gaze. "Alright, fine."

He lets the detective grab his hand and they weave their fingers together. They share a light kiss that does a lot to relax Chuuya before they climb back upstairs. He doesn’t let go of Chuuya’s hand when they walk in either. He’s running his thumb along the back of his hand to comfort him.

“Welcome, lovebirds,” Naomi greets, her voice muffled by rice. She’s sitting very close to her brother.

“Naomi, that’s rude,” he mildly scolds in a hushed tone and then offers the two men an apologetic smile.

Chuuya pointedly doesn’t look at them, though he does groan in annoyance. Dazai chuckles as he squeezes his hand. He watches the redhead shift his gaze around the room, finding Dazai’s coworkers indulging in their lunches with a smile or a relaxed expression.

“Oh, Chuuya-san!” Kenji exclaims, waving an arm in the air. “This food is amazing! The beef just melts in my mouth!”

“Same with my eel,“ Yosano adds with a genuine tone. “I will say, you’ve outdone yourself. Nobody asked you to do this, and yet, this is incredible.”

“I can hardly wrap my head around the amount of time it took to do all of this,” Atsushi remarks from his seat, briefly standing to give a respectful bow alongside Kyouka, who bows her head gracefully. “Thank you so much, Chuuya-san!”

After lifting her head up, Kyouka has a carrot flower pinched between her chopsticks and comments, “These are cute.”

Ranpo gives him a thumbs up from his desk. “No complaints from me.”

Kunikida observes the behavior of his coworkers, unanimously satisfied and won over by the mafia executive’s culinary prowess that he gives in, dubiously eating his lunch. He chooses to ignore Dazai’s  grin entirely as he gives Chuuya an intense glare. “It’s delicious.”

The redhead coughs into his free hand, ducking away to mask his reddening face. Dazai laughs, tugging Chuuya’s hand. “See hat rack? It’s fine. Come on, let’s sit over here,” he says, dragging Chuuya to the couch. They settle down as Dazai procures the final box, the one meant for him. He readily digs into his beloved croquettes as Chuuya watches him with a slightly disgusted frown.

"How many times do I have to tell you to slow down?" he grunts. Dazai smiles, crumbs littered on the corners of his lips as he offers Chuuya a piece. The redhead shakes his head. "All yours."

"Let me feed you at least one piece, Chibi!"

"Keep your voice down," Chuuya hisses. Dazai pokes his side and the shorter man yelps. The brunet deviously takes advantage of this window of vulnerability and pops a piece of croquette in Chuuya's mouth.

The redhead glares daggers, preparing a plethora of insults to sling at Dazai as he begins to chew.

“Nakahara,” a voice booms and Chuuya nearly chokes, startled. No one pays much attention to that, but rather the fact Fukuzawa is suddenly standing near the couple. “Can I see you in my office?”

Chuuya blinks multiple times, tensing up. Dazai tries to coax him to relax by rubbing his back. “Don’t hog him for too long, President!”

There’s a faint amused smile on Fukuzawa’s face. “It won’t take more than ten minutes.”

Chuuya slowly stands up and follows Fukuzawa, not bothering to glance at Dazai. He knows that honeyed gaze will assure him everything will be fine. He can feel a comforting aura against his back.

“Wonder what they’re gonna talk about,” Haruno muses aloud. A couple of the members express their agreement.

Kunikida sighs. “It’s their business. Everyone get back to work!” A pregnant pause. “After we’re done eating, preferably.”

Everyone goes back to their food and quiet conversation. Dazai turns to the President’s door every few seconds, chewing his food absent-mindedly.

If Dazai could provide him warmth from a spiritual thread, the sensation is cut as soon as he steps into the threshold of the President’s office. Chuuya wonders if his heart is too loud. If the older man can hear him swallow whatever’s lodged in his throat. The door closes behind them as Fukuzawa rounds over to a seating area, motioning for Chuuya to join him. His expression is always so stern, Chuuya can’t help being a bit intimidated. He was almost adjusted and kept his nerves in tune with the ten people out there, but now they're all frenzied again.

He didn’t want to turn Dazai down though because it seems like Dazai wants him further into his share of the world than be stuck only in the underworld. Chuuya doesn’t back down from anything that scares him after all. He isn’t entirely sure why he’s afraid to begin with, but he knows it has to do with the agency’s overall impression with Chuuya.

Fukuzawa interrupts his train of thought. “Would you care for some tea? It’s jasmine.”

“Oh. Sure.”

Chuuya mentally flings himself out the window at how woefully uncool he sounds as he sinks onto the other matching couch. Fukuzawa doesn’t seem to care about the redhead's manners, pouring a second cup. He pushes the coaster closer to Chuuya’s side of the table and stares at him.

“So, what did you want to talk about?” Chuuya begins, eyeing the steam rolling from his cup. It’s a good excuse to not stare at Fukuzawa’s steel gaze for too long. At least until he gets his bearings could he stand to look him in the eye.

“I’m sure you’re aware of how dangerous it is to be with Dazai. A Port Mafia Executive with one Armed Detective Agency member in a romantic relationship.”

“I am," Chuuya answers immediately with a glare, reading the tone as if the older man took Chuuya for a fool.

“I have no intention of stepping between that. As long as it doesn’t harm Dazai, it’s none of my concern.”

Chuuya blinks, confused. “So this is all just some kind of shovel talk then?”

“I suppose it was, but I can understand he’s in the hands of someone who cares more than enough.”

The redhead leans back into his seat. “I don’t really get what any of this is. I just cooked you guys some food. It’s not a big deal. Dazai asked me to do it anyway.”

“So humble as well,” Fukuzawa remarks, sipping his tea.

The redhead vigorously shakes his head. “Hardly. I was doing it to show off.”

“And you have impressed us. I’m sure it will happen again some time in the future.”

He’s certain he didn’t hear correctly. “Come again?”

Fukuzawa continues, “I did want to run something by you. The possibility of you operating as the new mediator between the organizations during joint missions. Initially, it was Dazai, but I think the two of you could be co-mediators in this manner.”

“Well, he was always the brains between the two of us,” the younger man mutters, although without a hint of discontent.

“That doesn’t mean he shouldn’t value your input. I’m sure this should help him do that.”

This causes Chuuya’s mind to wander when he had talked to Dazai about being more open with each other. If this could really accelerate it forward, he wouldn’t mind. It might be a positive for the mafia, but that’s largely Mori’s decision more than his own. There’s a good chance Mori will agree though. He should bring it up to Dazai when he’s thought about it for himself.

“If I accept, this would reveal our relationship to the Port Mafia.”

Fukuzawa merely nods. “Feel free to give me your answer when your mind's made up.”

The two men drink their tea quietly. Chuuya doesn’t gain the soothing effects he hopes for. Their relationship as Double Black has always been under considerable pressure, the title still holding merit after all these years and breathing down their necks. But now, it’s suffocating. Chuuya needs to get back home, where he’ll have the time and atmosphere to think uninterrupted.

He finishes off the rest of his tea, ignoring how it scalds his tongue and lets out a breath. 

“Thanks for the tea and chat. I’ll be going now,” Chuuya says, lifting himself from the couch to make a beeline for the door. 

"Nakahara?"

Chuuya halts before the door and turns back to Fukuzawa. "Yeah?"

"Make sure you talk to Dazai or myself before you talk to Mori. Am I clear?"

Chuuya finds himself nodding. "Will do."

With that, Fukuzawa remains silent, so Chuuya proceeds to exit the room. The moment he steps out, he’s immediately bombarded with the expected question.

“What were you talking about in there?” Dazai asks. Some of the members glance in his direction, causing him to freeze.

“I’ll talk about it later,” Chuuya says, keeping his gaze on the brunet only. Dazai frowns quizzically, seeming to question if he’s being genuine, so Chuuya does his best to offer a small smile until it’s reciprocated.

“I’ll hold you to that, Slug.”

“Get to work Dazai. This break is over,” Kunikida calls out.

Dazai sighs, rubbing the back of his neck. “Yes, Kunikida-kun. Give me a minute.”

The brunet tilts his head to the front door, non-verbally asking to be joined out in the hallway, so Chuuya follows him.

“Bye Chuuya-san!” Kenji hollers. A majority of the detectives add on to build a chorus of farewells. 

“Later,” the redhead gruffs in the silence that follows. Chuuya doesn’t know how to feel about any of it, but he doesn’t look back at them either. He doesn’t think he can stomach it. Dazai shuts the door behind them.

“Is it something serious?” the brunet asks so gently, his voice doesn’t echo through the hall.

“Yeah. I promise I’ll tell you, but I need to figure out how I feel about the whole thing first.” Chuuya looks up at him. “Is that okay?”

Dazai doesn’t look too upset by it. He whispers, “Of course.” 

“Now get back in there or else you’ll get the wrath of Glasses,” Chuuya jokes.

Dazai grimaces. “Like I don’t already.” His expression softens up. “I’ll be home soon, Chibi.”

“Yeah yeah,” Chuuya says dismissively, clapping the brunet’s shoulder. “Don’t forget to bring all the bento boxes back.”

Dazai pouts. “You can’t say something like, ‘Don’t work too hard, Osamu’ ?”

A smile eases on Chuuya’s face as he turns on his heel. “In your dreams. See you at home, Mackerel.”

As the mafioso begins heading down the stairs, his fears and hopes jumble into one mess. He definitely needs a drink to clear his head.

Chapter Text

When Chuuya said he would relay the conversation between him and Fukuzawa to Dazai at a later time, Dazai didn’t expect three days to pass without the mafioso ever talking about it. The redhead’s been a bit more quiet. He isn’t giving Dazai the cold shoulder by any means, which is good, but Chuuya is obviously occupied with whatever happened in that room. Dazai’s tempted to just confront Fukuzawa, but he promised Chuuya he’d wait.

He wonders if this is a repercussion for his mistake. He had admittedly put Chuuya through something he didn't want to, which isn't inherently new from Dazai. However, Dazai truly sees the possibility of Chuuya and the agency members getting along. It'll not only influence him to want to come to work more, but Dazai figures it could be good leverage against Mori, in case the mischievous bastard still hasn’t let him go. There is value in Chuuya being friends with his coworkers. It can extend the safety net to him as well.

It’s not often Dazai feels like he’s made an incredible miscalculation, but here he is, slowly seeping into his regret. He understands he doesn’t have a good track record of communicating in a way that’s crystal clear. Since he’s known Chuuya, just between them, that has never really been a problem when it boils down to a job. Outside of that, Dazai didn’t think it would be much different, but he’s learning otherwise. He's always known the little redhead to be predictable to a certain degree. Dazai can hardly remember a time where he couldn't tell what Chuuya was thinking. Just like now. It’s frustrating to realize he can’t actually read Chuuya’s mind.

He should have asked, but the entire arsenal of love coupons made it so that Chuuya would supply his every whim. It never fails to make Dazai smile when Chuuya obliges because of something so stupid. The redhead is willing to entertain and stay honorable to the value of his gift. But now, Dazai hasn't bothered to use them the days after. He’s unsure if using one would uplift the mafioso by forcing him to stop his own tiny brain from imploding. However, he could tell Chuuya needed space about the subject matter and Dazai did promise he would wait, but that doesn't mean it isn't difficult to sit through.

It’s getting to a point where Dazai is beginning to worry that he’s conditioned Chuuya to walk eggshells around him. What if his dog thought Dazai would play the ‘Get Out of Jail’ card so he couldn’t say how he really felt about what happened? Did he truly think Dazai would silence him? Likely.

That has to be why he said the following: “Yeah. I promise I’ll tell you, but I need to figure out how I feel about the whole thing first.”

Dazai is fully aware he’s a manipulative person. It’s probably why Chuuya bought him those coupons to begin with because he knew Dazai would enjoy them (and he truly does). Just putting that into perspective, it definitely makes the brunet feel like a piece of shit.

The longer it takes for Chuuya to address the conversation at all, the more Dazai starts to spiral. He really should have just told Chuuya what he'd planned from the start, even if it only occurred to him right after outing their relationship. It genuinely did slip his mind to tell him he broke their secret to the agency. He hadn't meant to either, but the excuses keep piling up instead of apologies and wow , Dazai can't believe he still hasn't told Chuuya he's sorry. He throws his head back with another drawn-out breath, twirling a pen between his fingers.

He only came to work because it was suffocating enough to not bring it up.

And he came to complain about Chuuya’s behavior at work and, of course, no one is indulging him. All Ranpo did was spin in his chair and tell him to be patient, whereas the rest of his coworkers neither cared nor saw what the problem was.

"Why don't you take your mind off of it by visiting these witnesses?" Kunikida suggests as he places a file onto Dazai's desk and slides it. The edge of the folder bumps against the brunet's hands, bringing him out of his cluttered mind. Dazai chews the inside of his cheek, pretending to sneer at the file.

"You were ready to give me that," he mutters, flipping the file open and scanning through the case summary of the collected missing person reports. All of the supplied photos of the victims happen to be young children. His eyes narrow as he releases an inquisitive hum. "A kidnapping case?"

Kunikida nods, clearing his throat. "The police have been having difficulty pinning down a suspect. Security footage shows the victims carry on, unperturbed and definitely unaware they are about to be captured.”

Dazai drums his fingers against his desk. “If we are dealing with an ability user, and that’s the most likely scenario, it could likely be an ability that transports victims to another plane of existence.”

“Like Lucy’s ability?”

The brunet affirms with a curt nod. “That's something any of us could guess. We'll just have to see.”

“One caller claims to be an eyewitness to the latest disappearance. They’re adamant on it being a kidnapping, so I’ve added them to the bottom of this list,” Kunikida taps a sticky note attached to the top-right corner of the first page as he continues, “I’d handle it myself, but I’m waiting on the intel Katai is due to send me today on a different case. So, unfortunately, I need you to seek them out.”

Dazai gasps, sitting up straight while appearing affronted. “Unfortunately? Kunikida-kun is cruel. I’m plenty reliable,” he whines. His partner flips open his trusty notebook with a frown.

“Take Atsushi and Kyouka along and divide the interviews amongst yourselves."

The two young detectives perk up at their names and glance at Dazai and Kunikida. The brunet fixes them with a cheery smile and claps his hands together. "Come along, children! We're going on a field trip."

Kunikida seems satisfied enough and ventures back to his desk. Dazai eyes the file again, snatching the list of newly added witnesses. It also contains their phone numbers and the addresses of locations they wanted to meet. Atsushi and Kyouka follow him out of the agency. He briefly goes through the information they have as he hands the list to Atsushi, who’s listening intently. Once they've entered the elevator and begin to descend, Dazai turns to Kyouka and Atsushi.

"As I’m sure Kunikida-kun wants us to be quick about this, we’ll be splitting up. I’ll handle the last two, Atsushi-kun. Take Kyouka-chan with you."

Atsushi blinks, confusion evident on his face. “Are you sure, Dazai-san?”

Dazai offers a flippant wave with his hand. "You have nothing to worry about! I’m a professional."

Atsushi's smile is hesitant at best, but he doesn’t argue. Kyouka fixes Dazai with a careful expression as she says, “Let us know if you need any backup or anything.”

"Likewise, you two," he responds warmly.

The three of them separate to conduct their assigned interviews. Dazai happens to have chosen the last two witnesses on the list because their residential blocks were next to each other, so he’d be done quicker. The brunet groans from the blaring sun.

It’s going to be a dreadfully warm day. The sooner he gets to the locations and asks what he needs to know, the sooner he’ll be at home, taking a nap with lovely air conditioning cooling him off. He begins to whistle to himself as he heads down the street.

By the time he’s done with both interviews, Dazai finds himself in a small 7-Eleven, weaving slowly through the aisles to cool off. He mulls over the details he gathered from the witness testimonies. Certainly, the ability has to be something else. The suspect appears to change from the two testimonies he had, so it could be an organized group, but if so, how have they not been caught?

His train of thought is interrupted when he hears a familiar message ping.

Dazai fishes his phone out from his pocket and confirms that Chuuya has sent him a text.

Slug:  Are you free?

The detective reads it and beams, quickly typing out his response.

Mackerel:   For you, I could be~! Where do you want to meet?

Slug:   I swear if you're in the middle of something, don't bother. 

Mackerel:   I’ve been out investigating with Atsushi-kun and Kyouka-chan. We’re almost done!

                We could go for ice cream…

Dazai attached a picture with his last message of one coupon that reads “Let's Get Ice Cream”. He lets out a chuckle when Chuuya’s response comes immediately.

Slug:   YOU HAVE THEM ON YOUR PHONE?

Mackerel:   No such thing as being too prepared. You've been slacking on deeds of love~

Ironic coming from him because Dazai hadn't given Chuuya a single coupon since the picnic one. Chuuya doesn’t point this out.

Slug:  Unbelievable.

          Fine. Bring the kids if you want and meet me at Kishine Park. I’m ready to talk.

Dazai's grin widens. He knows Chuuya is going to be waiting for him on the swings.

Kishine Park. That puts quite a bit of distance from  mafia territory for it to be deemed a safe meeting. This is the first time since they’ve been dating that Chuuya suggests meeting Dazai while on the clock and without it being Mori’s order. That’s when it starts becoming real for Dazai. There’s no professionalism and no need to act. It’s just him and Chuuya, the way he’s longed for it to be. He’s willing to brave the afternoon sun once more to meet his beloved hat rack. He scrolls through his contacts to dial his protégé, puts the phone to his ear and waits.

“Yes, Dazai-san?”

“Are you almost done?”

Atsushi’s voice crackles through the phone. “Yes. We’re still in the second witness’s home, but we’ll be on our way back to the agency soon.”

“Forget that. Let’s rendezvous at Kishine Park!”

“What? But that’s a bit far from the ADA–”

“Counting on you to make it! Bye-bye!” Dazai cuts him off cheerily and the boy lets out an undignified squawk as Dazai taps his screen to end the call. With that, Dazai waltzes out of the automatic sliding doors and sets off to his newly added destination. The detective's not even thinking about the case anymore. It’s on pause for now. He's buzzed with a mix of excitement and dread.

When Dazai arrives near the playground, he quickly heads toward an open bench covered by heavenly shade. He releases a relieved sigh from getting out of the blazing sun. He ignores some onlookers to check the swings several feet ahead of him. He smiles once he finds Chuuya perched on one swing. The other beside him is empty. His feet dangle underneath him, the tips of his shoes almost touch the ground, and, of course, the sun is absorbed in his hair, making curls of gold. He looks stunning, even if his brow is furrowed.

Dazai takes a quick picture to send to him along with the following message:   I spy a lost child.

Chuckling, he sends him the text. He watches Chuuya unclasp one of the iron chains to dig for his phone. He reads the screen, immediately whirling around to look for Dazai and the moment they lock eyes, Dazai gives him an innocent wave as he heads over to sit on the empty swing.

“You’re an asshole,” the redhead grits out once he’s close enough.

Dazai laughs, gripping the chains of his seat as he fixes Chuuya with a curious look. “Not busy today? You normally don’t have time to come to a place like this.”

Chuuya grimaces, lifting his hat slightly to fan out his hair. “Well, I’m not sticking around for too long to get noticed anyway. I let Ane-san know I’d be away for a bit, just in case.”

Dazai tilts his head and his breath is caught in his own throat for a moment. He thinks the current environment to be having such a serious talk is a bit silly, but it feels like the universe is letting them take the stage in this particular part of the world. All of the children are relatively far away. Their cries are so distant, they don’t stand a chance against Chuuya’s inside voice.

“So, you finally want to talk about what happened?”

“Oi, I didn’t take that long.”

“Chibi was keeping me on edge!”

Chuuya rolls his eyes at the childish whine, but he nods eventually. “Well, yeah. I can talk about it now. But first, didn’t you say the kids were with you?” he asks, looking around the area.

“Oh, I split up from them. They’re pretty far and they still need to finish speaking with a client so I’d say we have a little less than an hour to ourselves.”

Chuuya shrugs, apparently satisfied with that answer. He rests his forearms on his thighs as he fiddles with his own hands. Dazai just wants to reach for them. “Your president wanted to have me and you be co-mediators.”

Dazai blinks. He thought it was so much worse than that. “Is that it?”

Chuuya blushes, muttering defensively, “I did tell you it wasn’t serious.”

“I know, but Chibi was making me worried. I was starting to think you were genuinely upset with me for how everything happened.”

The mafioso deflates, putting a gloved hand near Dazai’s. The detective doesn’t hesitate to let go of the swing to clasp their hands together, building a bridge he feared was destroyed without him knowing. They gaze at each other and Dazai wants nothing more than to kiss him as an apology.

He doesn’t think he can ever be good at this.

“Osamu, don't beat yourself up. That's my job," Chuuya jokes with a small grin.

Dazai mimics his expression, his dimple showing. "So abusive."

The redhead lightly squeezes his hand. "I’m not mad at you. I was a bit heated in the moment, but I’m not mad at you.”

The relief washes over him easily. “Is it about the agency then?”

The silence that follows after his question is enough confirmation. Dazai doesn’t say anything. Instead he waits for Chuuya, coaxing him by gently rubbing the redhead’s hand with his thumb. “It’s just that it all felt weird being there. I’ve fought some of them. Now, being in the same room with them and not feeling dripping animosity from them it’s like…”

“Like it’s wrong somehow?”

Chuuya glances at Dazai and sighs. Of course he can empathize. “Yeah. It’s wrong.”

Somberly, Dazai dips his head lower. “Yeah. I didn’t really give you a choice. It was wrong to urge you to do it.”

Chuuya purses his lips as he reads disappointment in the other man's tone. He doesn't want to make the brunet feel guilty about their relationship. “Okay, I didn’t mean it’s wrong. It just felt that way. I didn’t hate it,” Chuuya swallows, avoiding Dazai’s hopeful glance. “I kind of did as it was happening, but when I thought about it for long ass times the days after, I didn’t think it was too bad. I think I can deal with it.”

Dazai stares at Chuuya for a moment and then blurts out a barely suppressed laugh. Chuuya’s expression sours comically at the sudden shift in behavior. “What the fuck are you laughing at, Mackerel?!”

The brunet wipes a tear as he reels in his laughter. “Chuuya, you sound so constipated about making friends! It’s never been an issue for you before!”

Chuuya lets go of his hand and smacks his arm, but his lips are twitching up. After Dazai calms down rather quickly, they fall into another pit of silence, but they catch each other with their hands again. It’s more welcoming when their fingers are laced together.

"Yeah. I knew eventually, I was gonna need to get somewhat along with them. And that we can’t keep this…” he urges pointedly with a subtle lift of their joined hands, ”...in the dark if I’m sticking with you. But it's all just happening so fast. I wasn’t expecting it."

"Your brain needed time to keep up, I understand," Dazai says half-jokingly. Chuuya doesn't dispute that claim nor does he look annoyed. "So, what do you want to do, Chuuya?”

The redhead blinks. He looks down at his own feet and that’s how Dazai knows he hadn’t been putting much thought into what he wanted to do. “I’m gonna have to tell them one way or another, right? So I want to do it as quickly as possible.”

“What’s your plan then?”

Chuuya bites his lips as his gaze shifts to a fallen leaf. “Probably tell it to Boss and Ane-san at the same time,” he lets out a nervous chuckle. “That way, I won’t be completely alone with either of them.”

“But you will be alone with both of them,” Dazai enunciates out loud, brow furrowed in confusion.

“Well, I mean, Ane-san will probably reel herself in from being outright pissed at me. I’m willing to bet she’ll conduct herself in front of Mori,” the redhead explains, glancing furtively at his boyfriend. “Him on the other hand, I’m slightly less worried about. I think he’ll see it as a good thing, but if he doesn’t and considers me a traitor, I won’t be alone in that room at least.”

“You don’t have to be alone. We can set up a meeting at the agency office and–”

Chuuya immediately shakes his head. That shuts Dazai up. “No.”

“Fukuzawa-san won’t mind,” he tries again.

Chuuya stares at him for a long while, seeming somewhat defeated. Dazai hates that. “Are you that worried it’s gonna go wrong?”

The detective thinks “ I’m worried more about you than anything ”, but he simply states, "There's no telling what Mori will do."

"That’s why I’m getting Ane-san. I don’t think Boss will execute me then and there if he deems me a traitor. But if he does, her presence alone will force him to do something else. Either kill me later or just anything else that isn’t death… Like maybe he’ll revoke my rank or something.”

Dazai can’t comprehend how Chuuya is explaining these scenarios so casually. He’s honestly impressed because while there’s a lot on the line for them, Dazai got off fairly easy. And he’s not sure if it’ll be the same for Chuuya.

“Why are you so adamant to do it alone?”

“Because you had to face the agency by yourself, Osamu,” Chuuya offers with a smirk, as if satisfied with the simplicity of his resolve.

His heart skips a beat. Chuuya is such an idiot. An idiot he loves so much. “Well, that’s my fault. They wanted to know where I was because I was missing for a week and I ultimately told them I was with you, and well, they know we’re together,” Dazai explains fervently. “It’s all my doing, so you don’t have to do this bravery shit. I got us into this mess, so wouldn’t it make more sense for me to help you out with revealing it to the Mafia?”

Chuuya bristles slightly, irritated. “Look, I’m not interested in the blame game, alright? Doesn’t matter to me. We’re past that. I’m doing it on my own because I also don’t want to involve the agency.”

"I get that you’re trying to make it seem fair, but me telling the agency and you telling the Port Mafia isn’t even remotely comparable! You don’t have to do it by yourself because I did it."

"Don’t you think it’s a good thing? Not just because we want to be together, but this will be the glue that binds our organizations with the goal of keeping this city safe. If I can present it in that way, they won’t really have a reason to complain. It’ll help keep the truce going. Most of all, Mori won’t really have a reason to keep asking you to rejoin."

The detective’s expression sours. It’s annoying, yes , but he’s mostly concerned about Chuuya. And Chuuya has the gall to be worried about Dazai when he's the one that is going to be on the chopping block. "I'm under the impression that once he hears about us, he'll be a creep and ask you to seduce me back into an Executive seat."

Chuuya reels back in disgust. "He wouldn't! Take that back!"

"Don't completely disregard the possibility,” Dazai trails off. He suddenly sighs and looks at Chuuya sincerely. “I know you’re loyal to him, but don’t forget he’s dangerous.”

The mafioso scoffs and lets go of Dazai’s hand to cup his face instead. He pinches his cheek painfully, causing Dazai to yelp and grip the chains of his swing tightly. His shoes scuff against the ground. 

Chuuya keeps hold of the chunk of skin between his fingers. “Osamu, stop talking to me like I’m stupid. I need you to trust me that things will be fine. Don’t you trust me?”

It’s Dazai’s turn to exhale and Chuuya releases his cheek. The detective rubs the stinging part of his face slowly. Of course he trusts Chuuya. “I do.”

“I get that you’re worried, but I’ve known Ane-san and Boss for a long while. I highly doubt they’ll cast me aside for this,” Chuuya says as he stands up and leans over to peck Dazai’s cheek. The one he pinched a moment ago. It somehow ceases all doubt in Dazai’s mind and it grows immensely as the redhead pulls away, gazing down at Dazai with a big, confident grin.

The brunet feels his lips tug into a trepid smile. He can’t change the mafioso’s mind on this. He lifts himself from the swing. “Wanna go for a walk?”

Chuuya’s eyes narrow slightly at a possible dog joke coming, but when it seems Dazai is asking innocently, he takes his hand and they stroll around. They walk along the bridges over Shinohara Pond, slowing down to watch the ducks and the fish. Chuuya chuckles to himself and points at one fish with a cheeky grin to Dazai. “Look. It’s you.”

Dazai points at a dog from afar, going on a jog with its owner. “And that is you.”

This sparks a heated argument, alerting people around the water’s edge. They turn their bodies in different directions to avoid the scene, but some eyes are glued to the action.

“Ah, Dazai-san!” Atsushi calls out from behind, startling both men. Dazai turns his head to see him waving while Kyouka walks beside him, her eyes flickering to the water. As they cross the bridge and come closer, Atsushi’s smile falls and his eyes widen when he sees Chuuya come into view from Dazai's side. He halts while Kyouka walks a bit further to stand in front of them. "Oh, Nakahara-san. I didn't see you at first."

Chuuya immediately tenses up and sends Atsushi a death glare that makes the boy jump and cower. Dazai turns to him with the most delighted grin and says, "No worries, Atsushi-kun. It's easy to miss him because of his shrimp-like stature!"

"It's because your big ass head was in the way!"

"Ah, so you admit you have a shrimp-like body?"

"Fuck you!"

"Chibi, careful. You are scaring the children."

Chuuya grits his teeth and glances around. No one is looking at them anymore. He only finds Kyouka staring at them with an amused twinkle in her eye. Atsushi doesn’t look too afraid anymore. Just confused. "Look, she's not easily startled."

She tilts her head up at him. “I wasn’t expecting to see you here. But I’m not surprised Dazai-san avoided his responsibilities to meet you.”

Chuuya releases a hearty laugh while Dazai gapes. “Kyouka-chan, I finished the interviews. I fulfilled my assignment for today.”

“Technically, not yet. You have to report back to Kunikida-san.”

Dazai narrows his eyes at her. “I’m taking a break. You would like a break too, wouldn’t you?”

Kyouka blinks. “At the park?”

“I’m sure Kunikida-kun won’t mind if we happen to be an hour late. Or two.”

Atsushi pipes up at last, apparently over his shock of the redhead’s glare. “I don’t think Kunikida-san will like that at all. You even said he wanted us to be quick about it and suggested splitting up.”

“Please. If Kunikida-kun is so bent on us doing everything according to rules, he shall also ensure his dear co-workers get proper breaks!” Dazai snorts, brushing some sweat from his brow.

Chuuya remains silent despite scrunching his nose in obvious disapproval. Kyouka glances at the redhead and murmurs, “Even then, it doesn’t explain why Chuuya-san is here though.”

Dazai turns to see Chuuya dipping his head slightly to her as he points his thumb toward him. “This bastard’s cheap and he wants ice cream so that’s why I’m here. I don’t mind buying for you kids though.”

Dazai grumbles sarcastically to himself. “Wow. Slug is so charitable.”

Chuuya dismisses him, “Whatever. Follow me. There’s a place closeby.”

They arrive at a small dessert parlor that sells crepes, taiyaki, and ice cream. Chuuya glances at Atsushi and Kyouka.

“Get whatever you want.”

Atsushi blinks, seeming to forget he’s included. The young detective stammers as he puts his hands up, “Oh, I don’t want to be a bother.”

“Nonsense, Atsushi-kun,” Dazai says.

Kyouka steps close to the mafioso, her hands clasped together before her in a pleading motion. “Can I get a strawberry crepe instead?”

“Yeah,” Chuuya affirms with a small smile. He turns his attention to Atsushi. “What do you want… uh…” Chuuya points his finger at him, blanking out. He snaps his fingers and then points again. “Atsushi.”

“I said his name a few times on the way here. Does my dog need hearing aids?” Dazai questions, hanging back behind Kyouka, mostly to use her as a shield. Chuuya wouldn’t harm her.

Chuuya sends him a seething glare. “Don’t start. I got it before anyone had to tell me.”

Dazai puts his hands up in faux surrender. With that, Chuuya faces the boy once again. "Okay. Atsushi-kun, are you up for ice cream or something else?"

The white-haired boy sputters, his eyes quickly moving toward the menu with the same urgency as a time bomb. "Um, ice cream definitely sounds nice. Vanilla is good. Yeah.”

Chuuya nods, trying not to appear amused. “Vanilla it is. You think you can finish two scoops?”

“I-I guess I can try.”

“Can you or can’t you?”

“For you, I’ll do my best!”

Chuuya’s brows shoot up. “It ain’t that serious, kid. It’s ice cream.”

“My, Atsushi-kun is surely sounding devotional, Chibi,” Dazai loudly proclaims, taking pleasure in teasing Atsushi, who’s growing redder in the face.

“What devotion? For ice cream? Dazai, what do you do for these kids?”

Dazai pouts at the accusatory tone of his boyfriend’s voice. “I do treat them to something nice every now and then.”

Atsushi glances at Dazai and firmly shoots back, “Yeah, with Kunikida-san’s money.”

Kyouka exhales, watching the three men in her company with budding disinterest at their prolonged exchange. She’s now here for her crepe and nothing more.

Chuuya mumbles out the orders to himself and Dazai perks up. He waits for Chuuya to look at him and ask what ice cream he’ll want, but the redhead turns to the woman at the register, ready to input everyone else’s orders and skip his. The brunet rushes over to slouch onto Chuuya, who squawks.

“What the– Dazai! Get off me!” he growls as his cheeks grow hot.

“Chibi is pretending to have memory loss. He glossed over me!”

“What the hell do you want then?”

Dazai pretends to think before craning his head onto Chuuya’s shoulder. “To share with Chibi.”

The color on Chuuya’s face darkens and the testy gaze from the woman at the counter isn’t helping. “Dumbass. What flavor?”

"Mmm, yuzu.”

Chuuya arches a brow, but orders it anyway. Once everyone has their treat paid for, they sit down at a table, an umbrella covering them completely. A slight breeze has come along as an additional blessing.

Kyouka is taking small bites of her crepe and savoring it blissfully with shut eyes. Atsushi’s melting in his chair the moment he gets the first spoonful of ice cream on his tongue. Dazai and Chuuya take turns scooping their share of yuzu. Chuuya glances at the brunet.

“So, yuzu, huh.”

“I suddenly had a craving for it when Chuuya was out in the sunlight,” Dazai gulps some ice cream, gazing at the mafioso softly.

“So cheesy.”

“But you like that!”

Chuuya hides his smile by turning his attention to Atsushi. "Atsushi-kun. Ever had stracciatella? It's kind of like vanilla ice cream, but with dark chocolate shavings whipped into it."

Atsushi's eyes brighten and Chuuya can't help laughing. "That sounds good!"

“Can’t really find a place that makes it, but if you like, I’ll try making it sometime so you can have some.”

Atsushi’s mouth falls open. “You’d do that? But why?”

“Just ‘cause simple joys should be shared.”

Kyouka pipes up. “I want to try it too."

The redhead chuckles. “Of course. You’re also welcome to.”

Dazai remains silent, repeating that line. Simple joys should be shared . That’s probably why Dazai loves this coupon idea. It felt ridiculous at first, but perhaps this was Chuuya’s intention in the beginning. And what has Dazai been wanting with Chuuya but a simple life?

Even if that’s nothing but a dream. Being with the redhead though, especially now, it feels possible.

Chuuya stands up suddenly, snapping Dazai out of his reverie. “Well, this has been nice, but I’m out. Duty calls.”

“Eh? Chuuya-san?” Atsushi calls out hesitantly.

“Chuuya! Wait!” Dazai whines, going after the redhead.

Chuuya turns, raising a brow. “Yes?”

The brunet stops and hesitates. Chuuya can see every protest flicker beneath those lashes. “Be careful,” Dazai settles, brushing copper bangs aside to press a gentle peck against Chuuya's forehead. Chuuya’s lips melt into a smile.

“Of course, ‘Samu. I’ll meet you at home.”

Kyouka and Atsushi hang back, watching the scene. When Chuuya waves at them, they return it with enthusiasm. All three members of the ADA watch him go through the green field until he vanishes under the shadow of a tree. Dazai turns back to Kyouka and Atsushi with a serene gaze.

“Let’s finish up so we can head back and piece together what we got.”

His protégés bob their heads in agreement, going back to their sweet treats.

Chuuya makes his way through the Port Mafia headquarters, nodding at henchmen left and right in greeting as they briefly welcome him back with a respectful bow. He appears stoic, but inside, every nerve is going haywire. He’s desperately trying to calm himself down by rehearsing lines, but he has trouble concentrating.

He stops before a pair of doors and knocks. He hears a curt, “ come in ” and opens one door.

"Ah, Chuuya-kun, you've returned,” a dulcet voice calls out as he steps into the owner’s office space. He bows before Ozaki Kouyou, who smiles at him. “Is there something you need?”

“Ane-san, I don’t know if you’re busy, but I need to discuss something with you and Boss.”

She puts her pen down gently and stares at Chuuya, calculating. There’s a considerable amount of distance between them, but Chuuya feels pins and needles against his skin from her glare. As if she’s prodding him up close, and he can’t even begin to think how this feeling will amplify with Mori. She shuts her eyes mercifully. “Is it urgent?”

“Y-yes. But it’ll be quick.”

She casts him a doubtful look, but offers a small smile nonetheless. “I’ll be up soon, lad. Go on and see if Ougai-dono isn’t currently preoccupied.”

Chuuya bows his head and turns on his heel, his heart pounding against his ribs ceaselessly. He has a small hope that Mori is preoccupied just so he can delay the inevitable, but no. He pushes down such foolish desires. He doesn’t want to hide what he has. Not anymore.

He pushes on ahead toward the elevator and presses the button to call it. Once the doors open for him, he steps inside the metal casket and pushes the button for Mori’s floor. He takes a deep inhale as the doors close, the jitters dispersing to his feet as he moves up. At his exhale, he opens his eyes, the glint turning sharp with focus. He’s rehearsed what he means to say. Every single line for every possibility. He can only hope when Kouyou arrives, he doesn’t choke up from the tension in the atmosphere.

This is his mission. Chuuya can’t fail.

Chapter Text

The elevator comes to a halt and a ding bounds off the walls. When the doors slide open, Chuuya is surprised to find the leader of the Black Lizard squad outside of them, assumingly waiting for the elevator.

"Chuuya-san. I wasn't aware you were still here," his gruff voice greets.

Chuuya nods toward Hirotsu and offers a grin to act cool. "Boss working you to your brittle bones, old man?"

Hirotsu steps into the elevator with a dry laugh as Chuuya moves aside. A beat of silence before he speaks, "There's rumors spreading of an organ trafficking ring that we’ve no record of. It's deplorable as well."

The redhead blinks, his smile dropping. “Shit. How bad is it?” He’s aware it's stalling for time at this rate, but it's still good to keep tabs on what's going on.

Hirotsu's grim gaze lingers on Chuuya. "A lot of children and women have gone missing. One of our own squad members has yet to report back from a stakeout and I suspect she's been taken as well."

A curse comes from the younger man. "What are you going to do?"

"I'm heading to where she was sent out to see if I find anything. I'm taking Tachihara and Gin along," Hirotsu sighs and lifts his head to the lights above the door. Then, he gives Chuuya a side glance. "I suppose you have business to attend to."

Chuuya blinks before he chuckles nervously. "Yeah, I’m gonna run something by the boss," he states, pausing for a reply. The only response from the old gentleman was a short hum. Chuuya shuffles his feet, caught between wanting to leave so they can carry on to their separate tasks and asking more. Hirotsu watches him for a brief moment as the redhead makes up his mind. "Do you know if he has an audience right now?"

"Not at this moment. You’re punctual."

Chuuya steadies the hat atop his head, muttering a succinct thanks and a bidding of good luck as he exits the elevator, the doors stuttering back open again. He likes Hirotsu, but goddamn, does that man never fail to make him feel like a socially awkward kid. Definitely didn’t help ease his mind from the meeting he’s about to establish, but he can’t blame Hirotsu after the grisly matter he needs to handle. They deal with a lot of darkness of course, but Chuuya never liked when kids were involved.

He stalks down the long halls and when he rounds the corner to the main hall heading towards Mori’s office, it starts becoming apparent that there is nobody else up on this floor, save for the two armed guards standing and making idle chatter. His echoing footsteps alert them to snap their heads in his direction and salute him as he approaches the entrance to Mori's office. He halts before the doors and one of the men begins to knock on the door.

The grunt brings up a hand to his own ear, a few fingertips touching the earpiece device planted firmly. "Boss, Executive Chuuya-san is out here."

A few seconds pass and both men grab a door handle and pull in unison. The polished wooden doors open with a brief squeak as the guards step aside. They offer a silent bow. Mori is a mere speck of darkness against the wall of books behind him, but Chuuya is starting to get a sense of dread.

Chuuya swallows before he saunters in, taking off his hat. Now isn’t the time to be having doubts. The doors close and Chuuya gets down on one knee, folding himself in a respectful bow.

"Chuuya-kun. I haven't seen you today. To what do I owe the pleasure?" Mori says as he leans into his plush chair.

"Boss," the redhead greets. He quickly shifts his gaze around the room for a sign of Elise and finds her playing with the stuffed rabbit toy he got her on their last shopping trip. It’s not much, but her presence is a small comfort. He rises from his lowered stance and turns his attention back to Mori. “If I could have a moment of your time. Ozaki-san will be here soon to listen to what I have to say as well.”

That gets Mori’s interest quick. “Oh? Well, so long as she’s on her way. This won’t take long, will it?” Chuuya shakes his head. “Good. Feel free to have a seat, Chuuya-kun. No need to stand around as you wait.”

“Thank you, Boss,” Chuuya replies as he puts his hat back on. With an exhale leaving his lips, he settles into one of the plush chairs. He tries to block out any noise in lieu of rehearsing mentally as Mori starts calling out for Elise. The girl brushes him off as usual. This goes on for a few minutes before a brief knock on the door interrupts the budding commotion.

“Boss, it’s Executive Ozaki-san,” the same guard outside of the doors announces from a little speaker sitting on the corner of Mori’s desk.

“Let her through,” he commands. The doors are opened in a similar fashion as when Chuuya was before them. Chuuya stands up the second Kouyou gracefully strides in. He gulps as he tries to settle into this feeling sinking into his gut. Sure, he feigned confidence with Dazai and it probably wasn’t convincing then. Chuuya just hopes it all works out to some extent.

He’s definitely certain he won’t die in this room after his confession, but other than that, every expectation he said to Dazai feels like some far away dream.

Once she’s close enough to Mori's desk, Kouyou dips into a deep bow toward him. He smiles and motions for her to take a seat, which she does, right in the chair beside Chuuya. Chuuya remains standing.

“So, now that we’re all settled, let’s get to the question we’re all thinking,” Mori says, shifting his eyes to Chuuya as he laces his fingers together and rests his chin on them. “Why have you arranged this meeting, Chuuya-kun?

Chuuya chews on the inside of his cheek. He practiced, but it's just never enough when the threat of failure is gripping him by the throat. He swallows before announcing, "I have been involved with Dazai Osamu."

Of course the not-smart move is to make his opening statement as vague as possible. Kouyou tenses up, looking annoyed, which Chuuya would have agreed with that look in the past. She’s probably peeved at his vagueness as well. Mori leans forward, his brow arched. "Involved in what exactly?"

Chuuya takes a deep breath. His next words manage to sound steady. "A relationship, sir."

“Speak clearly, lad. I thought you knew better than to buffer your thoughts,” Kouyou scolds.

Other than that, there doesn’t seem to be much alarm from that sentence, so Chuuya’s throat lodges up with a realization. " They don’t get it ."

"Well, we are in a truce," Mori points out with amusement in his tone. When he watches Chuuya's unrelenting gaze, he seems to come to an understanding the moment his eyes narrow. Definitely not good. "I see."

Kouyou snaps her head to Mori, clearly confused. "What is there to see?"

Mori's lips quirk up. He keeps his focus on Chuuya. "Would you care to specify for her, Chuuya-kun?"

Chuuya downright grimaces before turning to face Kouyou, his eyes scanning anywhere but her face. “I’m in a… a romantic relationship with Dazai.”

The moment he pushes that information out, he can’t help but zero in on her expression. He catches her eye twitching. The silence is deafening enough to pick up the sound of Elise’s crayon dropping yet no one spares her a glance. Chuuya wants nothing more than for the ground to swallow him whole. He can technically do that with his ability, but he’d level the rest of the building with him. So alternatively, he’s really thinking about breaking through the large glass window to escape. The life he’s known is about to change for good.

Because to say Kouyou looks pissed is an understatement. Mori only looks amused, but it does nothing to soothe Chuuya’s already heightened anxiety. He can never tell what the hell is on Mori’s mind. He’s probably smiling as he’s thinking of ways to make Chuuya’s life a perpetual state of despair. Chuuya almost feels himself smile because that's exactly what Dazai would think.

Kouyou doesn’t look at Mori. She keeps her eyes on Chuuya with a harrowing aura when she mutters, “That’s quite a problem, wouldn’t you say, Ougai-dono?”

Mori hums, laying his chin atop of his hands. “It does pose a risk to our intel, but that risk lies with the agency’s intel as well. It’s quite a standoff.”

Chuuya clears his throat. “There will be no spying from either party and we agree this relationship will strengthen the bond between our organizations. Dazai’s not interested in current mafia secrets. He wouldn’t have pried them from me or anything.”

“There’s no way we could possibly be certain of that,” Mori chides.

“But if he wanted to, wouldn’t you think he’d have done it beforehand?”

“Oh please, lad. You always fall for Dazai’s tricks. You are naive in comparison,” she reproaches, her frown deepening as he shrinks under her glare. Chuuya steels himself against the verbal blows because surely there is more to come. 

Mori puts up a hand in her direction as a means to soothe her. “Now, now. Let's hear this out, since it seems Chuuya-kun has thought of this as a benefit."

The tone indicates that Mori really believes none of this and is allowing Chuuya to dig his own burial site. However, Chuuya is almost thankful for the heat taken off his back. He’s still not quelled because he knows Mori isn’t doing it out of the kindness of his heart. The man is entertained. Kouyou releases a sharp exhale, almost looking murderously at their boss for being silenced before she shuts her eyes in surrender.

Chuuya breathes again, glancing at the two of them before he continues, “Dazai and I have demonstrated during the fight with those Guild members that we can still work in tandem despite being in opposing organizations. If it worked after four years since his defection, surely there’ll be other moments in the future where we’ll need to work together with the agency if we are to face any other organizations or powerful Ability users that mean harm to this city.”

Mori’s eye glints because while the name is unspoken, he knows Chuuya’s talking about their ultimate trump card, Corruption.

“That’s where I’m lost, Chuuya-kun. You mean to say you being romantically involved with Dazai is a boon? In what way?”

“W-well, Dazai acts as the mediator, right? He and I will be seeing each other more and working together with plans when it’s called for. That way, we’ll both be able to ascertain benefits and come to mutual decisions for either organization,” Chuuya tries, beginning to talk from his chest. “It won’t solely be on him. We’ll be co-mediators.” As Fukuzawa so humbly put it, but he’s trying to veil any involvement of the agency for the moment in case this entire meeting goes poorly (which definitely appears to be the case).

Kouyou’s voice lowers a tad bit softer, almost in the same sympathetic voice she offered when Chuuya was disheartened by Dazai’s lack of communication. “You hardly ever had an inch when it came to Dazai’s plans, Chuuya. He is just using you again.”

Chuuya’s jaw tenses considerably. He’s biting his tongue from yelling because he’s been told constantly from Mori, Kouyou, and Dazai that losing his cool is why he loses these sorts of battles. It’s always so fucking hard. “I’m not being used. What Dazai and I have been doing for the past few months isn’t some long-con trick. He couldn’t do that. He wouldn’t.”

It’s nothing short of an emotionally childish rant, but he can’t seem to appear as anything else in front of these two. It sinks in that they think he’s being tricked again and Chuuya knows he’s more or less lost their respect a bit. Mori and Kouyou exchange a look wordlessly before Mori glances at Chuuya again. “It does pain me to say it, but I can’t accept this. I’ll have to question the status of the truce, therefore, question extensively what you have shared with Dazai.”

Chuuya keeps his gaze on the crimson carpet beneath him. He blinks back a few tears and takes a deep breath to keep himself collected. This definitely isn’t how he mapped it out in his head. He suddenly blurts out, “We’ve shared kisses, embraces, long nights of passion."

The fabric of Kouyou’s kimono bristles as she gasps in slight mortification. “What are you on about?”

Mori appears thoroughly baffled as he hunches over his desk, tilting his head. “I don’t know if you’re trying to make me laugh.”

“I’m being serious, Boss!” Chuuya exclaims, lifting his reddening face. “We hardly discuss work! The only time was to… well, for me to announce it to the two of you.”

“Are you… is he living with you?” Kouyou asks, incredulous. He nods.

It occurs to him that the situation he’s put himself in is like seeking approval of a relationship from parental figures as he’s seen in a number of romance drama flicks. He grips the brim of his hat to hide his eyes and curses.

A sigh rolls in the tense air and Kouyou’s voice cuts through the quiet, “What are we going to do with you, lad?”

He merely shrugs and Mori lets out a light-hearted chuckle, which startles him. “I believe we’ve heard enough,” he says, turning serious all of a sudden. “Chuuya-kun. I’ll consider this after all. If your relationship is the genuine article, Dazai will take more care into your wellbeing during Corruption, which I can admit, is preferable. This shall be tested during a future joint mission, once I start having… negotiations with Fukuzawa-dono.”

Kouyou deflates as she brings a palm over her face. Chuuya knows he’s in for a stern lecture with her once they leave this room. “Unbelievable.”

The word is certainly a sentiment Chuuya shares with her. He can’t believe it actually seemed to work. He bows to Mori. “Thank you, Boss.”

Mori waves a hand dismissively despite his small smile. “Don’t forget it’s a test for you both.”

Chuuya gives a determined nod. There’s a gentle tug on his pant leg and he glances down to see Elise. She’s smiling as she hands him the drawing she’d been working on. He stares at it with a furrowed brow. There’s a gray rectangle with a yellow one right next to it and what he believes is him in it. “Is that… me in a closet?”

She giggles to herself. "Yeah! It totally resembles you," she says, pointing at a scribble of orange and a stout, black rectangle meant to be his hat. To drive the point home, the face is an exaggerated frown. There’s another face outside of the locker and he can assume it’s Dazai because of the brown strokes for the hair.

He doesn’t know what to make of this drawing, but she must be poking fun at him somehow. Dazai's portrait is able to help Chuuya suppress the irritation he feels because of how stupid the brunet looks. 

“Elise-chan~! Can I see?” Mori questions with a dopey smile.

“I’m not showing you,” she mutters with a roll of her eyes, taking herself and her doodle back to where she is situated on the floor.

Kouyou curtly addresses Mori before he can whine, "Ougai-dono, are we finished here?"

Chuuya's practically startled again when the mafia boss glances at him. "Well, that's all from you, correct?” A nod. “Then you're both free to go."

Kouyou stands up and exits the room swiftly. Chuuya offers another quick bow to Mori before he turns to leave. His pace is much slower than Kouyou. The minute Chuuya’s out of the room, he and Kouyou walk side by side toward the elevator in silence, passing the saluting guards. When they reach the elevator, Chuuya decides he’ll take the stairs to avoid the tense trip down with her. “Where do you think you’re going, lad?”

He stops at her voice and bites his own lip before he can even mutter a quick “fuck”. He looks at her. “I was just going to take the stairs.”

“I know what you’re doing. I’m no fool. Get in.” He tries not to scowl as he steps into the elevator with her. She sighs. “We’re going to have tea and you’re going to tell me everything.”

“Everything?”

“You were upset, Chuuya. Rightfully so. After the fight with those Ability users from the Guild, you told me he abandoned you in the forest. How could you have forgiven him?”

The way she says the last part sounds like he betrayed her somehow. Fury lights him up. “I know that it sounds like I walked into his fucking arms again without giving him hell, but I don’t appreciate you thinking I’m completely at his beck and call.”

Kouyou’s brows shoot up in alarm and he clamps his mouth shut. His rage simmers down immediately as the ride continues in stunned silence. Chuuya stares at the lights above the doors, watching one fade out from the floor they just passed and the adjacent light flick on at their current floor. The ding springs them out of their tense postures as Kouyou steps off the elevator. Chuuya follows her trail, all the way back to her office.

An itch to apologize profusely weighs heavily on his shoulders the closer they are to the door. He can see his outburst really surprised her. He’s surprised himself with it too. He never talks back to her like that because he knew it could never end well for him. However, his budding guilt doesn’t retract his statement.

Kouyou unlocks the door to her office and Chuuya grabs the handle for her. She makes an audible noise of surprise as she offers him a thankful smile. Once they’re inside and the door is closed behind them, she turns to him, clasping her hands together. “I want to apologize.”

“Huh?”

She chuckles, looking less disheartened at his confusion. “I want to say I’m sorry.”

Chuuya shakes his head. “I’m sorry for snapping.”

“I wasn’t considering how my words may have affected you. You’re capable of sound choices and I should have never called that into question,” she voices, matter-of-factly. She looks at him with regret in her eyes. “Will you forgive me?”

“Of course, Ane-san. I forgive you.”

She beams before opening her arms toward him. He blinks, his face heating up briefly. They rarely embrace, but he never rejects her because Kouyou’s hugs are another level of warmth and safety. She always puts a hand on his upper back and the other will always rest on top of his head. He steps forward and leans his head onto her shoulder, wrapping his arms around her. Kouyou sighs blissfully when he’s in her arms and they stay attached for a few seconds before she releases him.

“Thank you, lad,” she says as he steps back. She pauses a bit to consider her words. “I’m just curious as to what happened between you and him. It was like yesterday when you were cursing him to damnation.”

They share a quick laugh before Chuuya composes himself. “We might want to get started on that tea. It’s sort of a long story.”

Her eyes light up as she rushes to her desk. She fetches a gorgeous, orange tin from one of the drawers. “Perfect timing. I do have a new blend I have yet to try with me. To the cafeteria.”

Chuuya never really experienced dreams. He recalled at one point in time asking Lippman and Albatross what they’re like. Lippman said they were desires from another life one could’ve had if things were slightly different. Albatross said they’re like you’re in some sort of Disney movie where you could be living in the moment, multiplied by a thousand. And then it goes away like the flavor of chewing gum.

But Chuuya had heard from Dazai what it meant to dream.

“You’re not missing out, Chibi. Dreams are nothing but lies. Tricks. I bet that’s why you want to know about them. Dogs like tricks because they think they’ll get treats from them, hm?”

So when he found Dazai on his doorstep, he figured it was some sort of dream.

“What the fuck are you doing here?” Chuuya grumbled as he leaned against the door frame, still aching from the use of Corruption just the day prior. Dazai's eyes raked over his body and Chuuya’s eye twitched under their scope.

Here he was, after shamelessly lying to Chuuya and leaving him. Although Chuuya could admit he’s partially to blame for trusting Dazai to do anything but the bare minimum. Especially because they’re on opposite sides of the wall, but Chuuya likens Dazai to the actual wall itself. No one in their right mind would take care of their enemy, so Chuuya wasn’t even mad initially. It finally sinked in what he was to Dazai. Absolutely not worth his time.

Yet, here he was, offering an amicable smile, as if there wasn’t a four year gap in their history of knowing each other. The absence of Dazai’s presence caused Chuuya to question all he knew about him.

“Still hurts?”

Well, it’s not like Chuuya would ever have the fucker figured out.

“It’s nothing,” Chuuya urged, catching Dazai’s discontent frown. “Now, if you’re satisfied with that, get the fuck out of my face.”

The brunet smiled. “You can always close the door.”

“You’d lockpick it. Or whatever you can do to break-in.”

“Ah, but I knocked, didn’t I?” he countered.

He had a fucking point, but Chuuya didn’t want to cater to it. He was exhausted, and Dazai, not that the bastard would care, was draining him more. “What are you even doing here anyway?”

Dazai put his hand out and let it hover between them. It was set up as a handshake waiting to be reciprocated. Chuuya stared at it with caution and then he flicked his eyes to Dazai's to read his intentions, but he never could.

Didn't stop him from trying that night.

Dazai kept it there and watched the redhead. Eventually, his hand retreated with a flash of disappointment across his features. His smile was tense when he asked, “May I come in?”

The fact that he was asking civilly threw the redhead off. Chuuya wanted to close the door, to be the one to end it and leave Dazai hanging onto loose thread. He wanted it so desperately, just as much as he wanted to scream his head off. But he stepped aside silently, glaring at the floor. Chuuya’s not a petty teenager anymore.

Dazai stepped in. There was a long pause, and Chuuya knew the other man was staring at him in the prolonged silence.

“Take off your shoes,” he said for the sake of saying anything. Words felt meaningless.

Chuuya could count on one hand the times he’s known Dazai broke into his home for God knows what. He’d never see Dazai, but he always left a stupid prank behind. Who else could it have been other than the teen who’s enjoyed being the thorn in his side? Except, they’re grown men now and Chuuya couldn’t help thinking these pranks were messages now that he’s aware not only was Dazai alive, but he switched sides.

The pranks were as childish as before. Dazai was emptying out some of his favorite bottles of wine and replacing them with straight up vinegar or oil. Sometimes he would deliver packages or notes with a foul odor emitting from it. Chuuya would never open them; just threw them out. He figured if Dazai wouldn’t answer his drunk calls or texts (as embarrassing as they are), Chuuya would dump the obvious pranks and not give him the reaction he’d been longing for.

The bastard has always been cryptic, so the redhead needed to read between the lines, even if he didn’t know where the lines were drawn. Try as he might, but he couldn’t figure out why the pranks kept coming. Why they suddenly started showing up after he saw Dazai in the dungeon and the slimy brunet pretended he was locked up. Like Chuuya hadn’t been scrambling for information on dead bodies or ringing up hospitals on several burner phones every day, wondering if he was finally going to find him.

Then, the search stopped and while Chuuya felt relief, it was only instant before he was fuddled with more questions than answers. He could only be that way toward Dazai and be strung along, just completely lost and pitted against his feelings and responsibilities. For Dazai to show up in front of him now without means of breaking in felt like a prank itself. He’s suddenly playing nice because Chuuya used Corruption. After abandoning him in the forest, deliberately ignoring Chuuya’s requests to take him to the extraction point.

Dazai’s had moments where he wouldn’t be harsh with Chuuya after Corruption, and despite the amount of pain Chuuya felt, it strangely was worth it when Dazai would treat him better. He’d rather die than ever admit it out loud though. But after last night, Chuuya merely felt hollow.

There’s just no logical reason why he keeps bothering Chuuya. Why he’s here when he’s not obligated to help Chuuya outside of being the only key to disengage Corruption, so the redhead can still live. There’s nothing to gain out of being here and putting on a charade.

The moron glanced around the living area. His focus strayed onto a wall where Chuuya had hung photos of himself with various people in the mafia. He recognized a majority of them. There was even a picture of Akutagawa looking sour-faced as usual. “Not too many changes around here.”

“Tell me why you’re here, Dazai.”

“Always yapping,” he murmured. The detective plopped himself on the leather couch in lieu of answering Chuuya. The shorter man watched him, narrowing his eyes at Dazai’s clear dismissal. The taller man patted the area beside him. Chuuya didn’t make a move to sit. He stayed standing, arms crossed. Dazai sighed. “You should relax, Chibi.”

“I was before you showed your fucking face.”

“Please, you always do an absolutely horrible job of taking care of yourself.”

Chuuya staggered forward, barely yielding the venom in his voice. “You're one to talk. I did fine enough without you!” Something briefly flashed in Dazai’s face. Chuuya caught it and instinctively lowered his voice. “I’m tired of the games. I just want to know what you came here for. I don't need you to patch me up with your shitty fucking bandages.”

The brunet was quiet for a moment before he tilted his head slightly. “Does there need to be a reason for me to see my dog? Why not, for old time’s sake?”

Chuuya scoffed. “Yeah right.”

“Will any answer I give be good enough? It seems like a losing game to satisfy you.”

“You've never given me answers!" Chuuya choked before reeling himself in with a deep inhale. "I think it’d satisfy me if you left already.”

The brunet pursed his lips. “Now that, I know, is a lie.”

The mafioso snarled, clenching his fists. “What do you know?”

Dazai fixed him with a bored expression as he began raising his fingers in one lifted hand. “All the voicemails you left behind, the texts, your ugly cries. You were always whining for me to come back. I know how much you missed your master,” Dazai’s lips formed a cruel grin. “How much you missed me."

“So that’s why you’re here. To fucking shove it all in my face. Well congratulations, asshole. Feelings change and I definitely don’t miss you because I don’t even fucking know who I’m looking at anymore,” Chuuya spat, not even feeling triumphant for getting a strangled noise out of Dazai. “Now, do me a favor for once and get out. It’s too late to put up with any of your bullshit.”

Dazai turned his head away, contemplating. Chuuya decided not to wait for him and stormed off to the bathroom. The redhead couldn’t stand to look at him anymore. He felt a wave of dizziness hit him as the door shut and he crumpled against the wood, letting himself sink to a sitting position. He lowered his head against his knees.

He was trying desperately not to shed any tears. He thought he’d had enough crying over him by now, but it seems he was wrong.

A knock interrupted his train of thought and Chuuya groaned. “Go away.”

“Chuuya,” his voice whispered from above. The redhead felt tingles up his spine. “Come on. I… I came to reintroduce myself.”

Chuuya picked his head up from his lap. “Huh?”

“I know it seems like I’m not much different than before, but I'm not the same. You’re aware of that, aren’t you?” Chuuya didn’t respond. He heard a weary exhale. “I didn't mean any harm, really.”

“You left me there.” Chuuya hadn’t mentioned the forest.

“I know. It wasn’t ideal.”

“No. It wasn’t.”

A long pause, and Chuuya thought he was just imagining the brunet was here before he continued, “Will you let me make it up to you?”

“Huh?” Chuuya has expressed his astoundment a lot with that exclamation.

Dazai’s chuckle was light, hopeful. Youth bled from it and Chuuya craved it all over again. He really was weak. “Let’s get ramen. My treat."

The wall suddenly had a door built into it. And there Chuuya was on the other side, mustering up the strength to reach for the doorknob. Before he knew it, it was open.

"No more tricks," Chuuya muttered from his knees. He put one hand on the counter and tried to lift himself, clearly struggling. Dazai's hands were under his armpits to help, all with a clear smile.

From there, Chuuya recounts to Kouyou several moments in the past few months where they struggled and made an effort to improve. Of course, Dazai was far from the only one that needed to improve. Chuuya tried to better his own patience because he shouldn’t expect ideal results overnight, but he’s been proud of Dazai’s progress.

Hell, it’s the happiest he’s been with him and Chuuya can see less strain in the man’s smile. He knows Dazai still struggles to leave their bed and hits him with the “ what’s the point ” gaze at times, but Chuuya is not going to scream at him for that. He just has to remind him he’s not alone in his mind.

“That’s basically how it all went down,” Chuuya finishes, staring at his own gloved fingers. He flicks his gaze to Kouyou and takes in her neutral expression. She’s deep in thought, but Chuuya’s not worried. He always heard from her that he was a fool, but he doesn’t feel embarrassed by it this time.

He might be disappointed, but he'll understand. She was there for him as he processed Dazai's absence. When he found out the brunet was alive and how conflicted he was. Happy to discover Dazai wasn't dead, but hurt with the sudden distance, almost as if he had been the one that was dead to Dazai. To have to witness such a turnaround in a relationship would give anyone whiplash, so he doesn’t blame her at all.

“I see. You’re truly in love with him,” she observes with a sad smile. Chuuya takes a deep breath as he nods. She closes her eyes, appearing more blissful. “I’m glad."

His breath gets caught in his throat. "You are?"

"I couldn’t figure it out, but lately, you did seem eager to be at home. I was wondering who you’ve been with.”

He blushes at the teasing lilt in her voice. “Y-yeah. Bastard is very annoying when he’s clingy.”

She lets out a light chuckle. “You should get going. I’ve kept you around long enough.”

He stands up after finishing off the rest of his tea. He gives her a small bow. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Ane-san.”

She smiles. “Take care, lad.”

He leaves her office, taking a deep breath. He practically slumps along the doors as he can finally relax his poor heart.

His phone starts ringing in his pocket and he scowls. It seems he can't catch a break. He quickly fishes for it to check who's calling him. It’s Dazai, clearly ready to whine about being late again. Chuuya accepts the call and brings the phone up to his ear.

"Slug, I know you're slow, but this is ridiculous!"

"Nice to hear from my drama queen," he blandly retorts, starting to walk to the elevator.

"If anyone's the queen, it's you. Kouyou exposed you to the pampered lifestyle."

"And you've fit yourself into it,” Chuuya counters with a smile tugging at his lips. Dazai’s laugh comes through and embraces him against the cold air from the vents. The redhead lets out a small sigh as he hits the call button. “I’m on my way back now. Just waiting for the elevator.”

“Good. I’ve gone out of my way to order food again!”

“Wow. How considerate of you,” Chuuya murmurs, his tone actually thankful and genuine.

“Maybe Chuuya can do me another nice favor when we returns~”

The redhead huffs in response. He straightens up when the elevator dings open and he steps inside, hitting the button for ground zero. That floor is the lengthy underground parking garage for Executives and high-ranking members of the organization. “What kind of favor?”

He hears Dazai hum in deliberation. “Maybe you let me play with you as long as I want tonight. It’s been a minute since we had any fun…”

Chuuya smirks. “It has,” he admits in a seductive hush. He knows Dazai hadn’t expected the tone to be reciprocated when the other’s breath hitches over the line.

Then, Dazai clears his throat. “So Chuu… How did it go?”

The redhead blinks from the diversion then hums. “Honestly, it went better than I expected.”

“Ah, so Chuuya thought he wasn’t going to convince them after all,” Dazai teases.

Chuuya rolls his eyes and mutters, “Hey, it worked out. Mori said he’ll propose a joint mission soon as a test of our relationship.”

The detective groans obnoxiously and Chuuya clicks his tongue. “I don’t want to work so soon.”

“It’s a win, isn’t it? Better than me running to God knows where,” Chuuya mutters.

“Mhm. I can commend you for that. I’ll reward you with a good time after dinner.”

Chuuya suppresses a groan. “Already getting ahead of yourself.” The elevator doors open and he walks out, arriving to his vehicle in a few strides while he reaches for his keys. They jangle as he pushes a button on the fob to unlock his car. Chuuya speaks again as he opens the car door, “I’ll be there in fifteen.”

“Okay. Better hurry before I decide to eat your food.”

The redhead grunts while he slides into the driver seat. “Don’t you fucking dare.”

With that he hangs up and turns the ignition, powering up his car. He reverses out and hurries to get out of the garage.

He gets to his apartment building rather quickly, but exits his car to take a quick smoke. He deserves it after the constant jitters he had to suffer through on this day alone. He places a cigarette between his lips and lights it, inhaling till the smoke licked his sinuses. He blows it toward the night sky and feels at peace. He always admires the few stars he can see as they glint in the dark. They’re small to the glory of the moon, but beautiful all the same.

"My, aren't you rather dashing?"

Chuuya‘s grip on his cigarette tightens at the sultry voice. He glares at a shadowy figure coming from underneath one of the metal car canopies, devoid of any cars. "Oi, who the fuck are you?"

Instead of addressing the redhead or revealing himself, the creep continues his drawl, “Feisty.”

The unperturbed air from the mysterious man makes Chuuya’s skin flare with disgust. “Come out from under there and say that where I can see you, you fuck.”

The figure chuckles. Chuuya suppresses a shudder. "Unruly. No matter. You’re coming with me."

"Yeah. I don't think—"

A metallic clang fills the air and the redhead vanishes amid his sentence. The lone trace of his existence is the unextinguished cigarette he dropped, burning itself to ashes on the asphalt.

Chapter Text

This day has been a rollercoaster. The moment Chuuya can even feel slight relief, there’s always something in his way.

He’s aware that he got transported here by an Ability user. Chuuya didn’t close his eyes or pass out. He’s been conscious the whole time since the parking lot, but then he was stuffed into a pitch-black darkness. Somehow, the space enclosed around him was like a tight, cramped box. His arms and legs were folded into his torso uncomfortably and Chuuya couldn’t see a damn thing. He yelled curses, and that’s when he heard voices other than his own from beyond this space he was in.

After everything that’s happened, this isn’t how he pictured tonight going. Hell, this is all because of Dazai, despite the clear lack of intention. Chuuya can see it, the sight of Dazai greeting him, embracing him and looking at Chuuya like he’s the most precious being in the world. And Chuuya will race home every day, whether he’s overseas or minutes away, because there’s no one else he’d rather be with. For every breath, it’s always Dazai.

Tonight, he wants to eat whatever Dazai ordered out for them. He wants to melt with him and exchange feather touches in bed, where they ascend together. He wants to cuddle after and listen to Dazai’s voice with its soft timber, as it reminds Chuuya of his own beating heart. He wants to go to sleep feeling Dazai’s chest rise and fall. And then, the redhead will wake up to his favorite sight in the entire world: Dazai’s hair catching the sunrise as the brunet appears the most serene in his sleep, with his lips slightly parted. Chuuya suppresses the urge to kiss them because he waits until those eyes search for him.

It was all planned out in Chuuya’s mind. This is a version of their daily routine and one way or another, Chuuya will ensure it happens. So, Chuuya presses his back against one side of the box, an aura of crimson around him, brings his legs up to his chest and kicks out.

Chuuya was taking a while to get inside, Dazai noted. On his phone screen, he has a map of Chuuya's location open. He bugged Chuuya’s choker and his hat because those are two accessories that he wears the most, even outside of work. The redhead is indicated by a small chevron and he's been stuck in the parking lot for about five minutes now. Certainly taking his sweet time for some reason.

Dazai narrows it down to Chuuya having a possible smoke break, or he's preoccupied by something else. Regardless, Dazai is bored and wants his little mafioso to hurry up so they can eat and have a little fun in bed (as planned) before sleeping. He's stood in the same spot for long enough that Dazai has the urge to go down and meet him.

This excitement, it's a peculiar feeling to the detective. Sure, he's waited for Chuuya before, but this eagerness is eating him alive. Possibly because neither of them have to pretend anymore and that revelation is a breath of fresh air. It’s something worth celebrating. The brunet decides to throw his coat on and hurriedly slips his shoes on. 

Dazai walks briskly to the elevator, gets on, and rides it down. His eyes flick between his phone and the floor numbers above the doors. The second the number moves from the third floor to the second, Chuuya’s mark on the map disappears.

Dazai blinks and thumbs the refresh button, finding Chuuya’s new location. Dazai tries dialing the redhead, but there’s no response. Chuuya must have been hit by an ability and, if Dazai hurries, he can find out who the user is. Chances are, they’re the one behind the string of disappearances from his recently assigned case. The doors open and Dazai breaks into a sprint to reach the front doors, startling a few people in the lobby. He shoves them open and makes his way to Chuuya’s parking space, where he should find the car and any other clues.

When he rounds the corner of the building, there doesn't seem to be anything out of the ordinary, but the brunet catches sight of something on the ground. A few feet away from Chuuya's car is a cigarette from a brand the redhead smokes, halfway through its life on the asphalt. It’s his only clue until Dazai hears a faint voice somewhere ahead. He leaves the cigarette alone to follow the sound.

He's sure to keep his steps especially light to mask his presence. Even if Dazai's certain this suspect is no match for him in combat, he wants to have the element of surprise. Might as well have a little fun with this.

He keeps his head down near a low wall with delicate greenery ornating its flat surface as he sees his suspect speak on the phone. He's got slicked-back black hair, a standard gray suit, and he generally looks rather plain. He seems to be playing the part of an unsuspecting office worker.

“...should be there now. I put him in forty-one,” the man says urgently. He starts speaking again in a tone that brings a disgusting coil in Dazai's gut, “Red hair, pretty blue eyes. They'll love him. Make sure to take his phone and whatever other shit he has away. See you soon."

After that, Dazai hears the flip phone snap shut. He watches the man quickly scan the area before he walks down the street at a moderate pace. Dazai rises from hiding and carefully matches the pace with ease, keeping some distance to his prowl. He already knows where Chuuya is, so he’ll incapacitate the man in front of him quickly.

“Excuse me, sir?” Dazai calls out, watching the man in front of him stiffen. He glances over his shoulder at Dazai before pivoting his body to face him with a terse smile.

“Ah, are you talking to me?”

“Unless I’m speaking to a ghost,” Dazai jokes with faux chipperness. The man’s lip twitches and his brow furrows with irritation for a split second before he fakes a chuckle. Dazai dangles a thin leather-folded wallet. “You dropped this.”

The man pats himself down, feeling his pockets in disbelief of their emptiness. Then he grits his teeth, snarling at the smug detective. “You… How long have you been listening, asshole?”

Dazai can easily stretch out this charade for a bit longer by pretending to play dumb, but he is so over it. He needs to meet up with Chuuya. That’s where he hopes to find the victims and close this case. “Enough to know how much of an amateur you truly are.” The man’s eyes almost bulge out of their sockets as his face reddens with rage. Dazai continues, “I mean, honestly? You are terrible at this! I think whoever started the rumors played you up a bit too much.”

“What rumors?” he spits venomously.

"There are rumors of a grisly organ trade mainly targeting women and children. The pattern and method of the disappearances though, I just couldn’t shake the feeling that there were far too many people being taken. It seemed to be the work of someone who hasn’t been doing it very long,” Dazai relays, tapping his own chin.

The man’s face reddens as he furiously spits out, “Who the fuck are you anyway?”

Instead of answering, Dazai keeps going, “The recent surge of abductions has to do with you. You keep the victims contained until they are requested by actual trafficking rings. You are just the one that hunts and gathers."

The suspect goes bug-eyed at the accusation. Eventually, he collects himself with a derisive snort. “Alright. So that’s basically it. I still have no clue who you are, but there’s no way you’re getting me.”

Dazai smirks. “Do you think your ability will work on me?”

“You… That’s what they call it? You have one,” the man concludes, his voice wavering in surprise.

“I’m here to ruin your night, as you’ve nearly ruined mine,” the detective murmurs, eyes hollow and rid of the moonlight completely. The suspect steps back, fear evident on his face. “However long you’ve been kidnapping civilians who can’t defend themselves, it ends now.”

“Oh yeah? Just try and stop me!” the man roars as he turns to run to an alley across the street. Dazai gives chase, but it doesn't last long, for the man stops eerily once his whole figure is shrouded in the shadows of the adjacent buildings. The detective halts before the darkness, sensing something amiss as the man’s eyes are wide with focus toward Dazai’s feet, almost anticipating him to go further.

This may be how his ability is activated, but unfortunately for the suspect, Dazai won’t be the one who’s tricked. There’s nowhere else to run for this man. He was confident enough to flee into a dead end. Although Dazai’s not complaining because he’d rather not overexert himself.

The man’s grinning, and Dazai can’t wait for his hopes to shatter. “What’s wrong? Aren’t you gonna get me?”

Dazai matches the other man’s grin, hopping into the alleyway with a jovial spring in his step. The suspect’s jaw drops.

“Oh my… It seems like you’ve cornered yourself,” Dazai says in a feigned pouty voice. “Too bad!”

The man puts his fists up and adjusts himself into a fighting stance. “I’m gonna fucking kill you.”

“You’ve delayed my night for long enough,” Dazai mutters as he steps forward. The man rushes at him, a fist reeled back to sock Dazai. However, Dazai grabs his wrist with ease and uppercuts the suspect with the other hand, fist driving into his core. With a broken gasp, he falls limply, hitting his head against a trash bin. That knocks him out cold. Dazai sighs before quickly whipping out his phone once more to check Chuuya's location. He appears to be moving, so he needs to hurry. Dazai calls Kunikida and waits.

His voice comes through after the second droning beep. "Whatever it is, can it wait? I'm about to sleep."

The brunet has a small smile. “I’m afraid your schedule will be delayed again, but not for nothing. I’ve caught one.”

He hears shuffling in the background, which seems to be his work partner getting out of bed. Kunikida’s tone is impatient. “Caught what?”

“I’ve caught one of the perpetrators. The Ability user that delivers the victims is here with me. I’ve knocked him out cold.”

His partner sounds more alert. “Did you locate the victims?”

“That’s what I’m about to do now. Off to find my dog," Dazai chirps.

Kunikida sounds baffled. "What? Nakahara's there? Why?"

The brunet can’t help the grin from Kunkida’s acknowledgement of Chuuya as his dog. Instead of addressing it though, he lets out a sigh as he plants his foot on the suspect he knocked down. "He was taken, but he's moving about. I'm certain he's free and is on a rampage, so I need to go fetch him."

"I'll drive us there, just wait and make sure he doesn’t go anywhere. I'll grab Yosano-san just in case as well."

 "Alright. Chop, chop, Kunikida-kun!"

He hangs up, interrupting his partner's incoherent grumbles. Dazai keeps his eye on Chuuya's location as he fully sits down on the unconscious man's back, waiting.

“Goddammit! What the fuck are you?!” Chuuya’s opponent, a muscular man with a shaved head, who appeared to be in his thirties, bellows out, holding his broken forearm.

Behind Chuuya is a small group of twelve victims comprised of women and children. He freed them from their ‘cells’, which happened to be lockers. The ability user transported them to this dusty, off-putting locker room and confined their bodies inside. Most of the victims are children that were either on their way to school or their way home from school, judging from their rumpled uniforms.

The only conscious woman came forward and whispered to Chuuya that she’s a part of the Black Lizard and she’d provide him backup if needed. She must be the one Hirotsu is searching for. He ended up opening every single locker, some holding random belongings, but most held someone inside as they spilled out from the metal box, many of them unconscious.

After all of the thunderous noise the redhead must have been making, this man came up behind him at some point and tried to subdue him with a strange drug contained in a syringe. Chuuya barely felt the prick against his neck before reaching behind, grabbing the man’s beefy forearm and crushing it in his grasp.

The man howled with agony, dropping the syringe. And now, Chuuya’s wondering how many other perpetrators are involved. Whoever managed to whisk him here is not the man before him, that much is true. The voice is different.

Chuuya starts cracking his knuckles, glaring at the man. “Are you the only fucker here?” The man only grits his teeth in response. Chuuya smiles, but it doesn’t reach his eyes. “I won’t kill you if you tell me who else is here.”

“N-no one else is here. The guy who brought you here… Who brought everyone here is my brother.”

“So this sad excuse of a trafficking ring is run by the both of you,” Chuuya mutters, noting the man’s flaring breaths. “Tell me, what else have you done?”

“Nothing! We started this month! My brother’s the mastermind! I’m only the muscle!”

Chuuya narrows his eyes and mutters to himself, “Great.” He takes a glance at the victims behind him. Only one kid has regained consciousness so far. The redhead clicks his tongue as his gaze returns to the man, who’s not-so-subtly edging towards the door. “Your brother told you to keep innocent people drugged up? Even the kids too?”

“Y-yeah? We didn’t kill any of them.”

“You really don’t get it. You could’ve,” Chuuya says darkly, closing the distance as the man winces.

“P-please don’t hurt me anymore,” the man begs as he backs away, his back against the wall. He keeps his broken arm stable with the other.

Chuuya juts his chin, smirking at his opponent. “For being the muscle, you sure are easy to beg for your pathetic life.”

“I don’t have an ability like my brother, so I’m not the worst out of the two of us! You’re wasting your time on me!”

“Throwing him under the bus when the going gets tough? You have no backbone.”

The man growls, reaching behind his back in a quick motion. He whips out a pistol, aiming it at Chuuya and firing with no hesitation. The mafioso doesn’t flinch as the bullets freeze midair, a few feet shy of reaching him. There’s an audible gasp behind him.

If there weren’t civilians in the room, Chuuya would launch the bullets right back at the man, but he just lets them fall at his feet. No need to add further trauma to these poor people when they wake up. His only goal is to make sure none of them are harmed and that he and Hirotsu’s subordinate leave without a trace. The man starts to fidget, firing a few more times. Chuuya rolls his eyes at the futile attempt.

There’s a couple of clicking sounds from the gun, causing the man to snap his eyes to the weapon. In another desperate attempt to thwart Chuuya, he throws the weapon at him with all of the strength he has. The mafioso activates For the Tainted Sorrow once more, pushing the gun back towards the man. He lets out a shrill scream before the weapon strikes him at the temple. A grunt followed by a tumbling thud, and the man is down. The mafioso watches his opponent’s body for a few moments before deeming him completely knocked out. Chuuya’s lips form a small frown.

“Well, that was anticlimactic,” he mutters to himself, rubbing the back of his neck. Chuuya turns his attention back to the victims sprawled out in various positions on the grimy tile floor. The one kid and Hirotsu’s subordinate are still the only people awake and alert.

The child is watching him, amazement sparkling in his eyes. He scrambles to his feet before he points to the muscular man. “Is he… Dead?”

“Nope,” Chuuya replies easily. There’s a sigh of relief, but Chuuya notices his slight disappointment, which he can empathize with due to the lack of a decent fight. He pats the kid on the shoulder. “How are you holding up, kid?”

He glances at the mafioso shyly as he mumbles, “I’m good. I just wanna go home.”

“Me too. You’ll be going home soon. Just hang tight a little bit longer while I go get help,” Chuuya says in a gentle tone. The kid stares at Chuuya as he listens before eventually nodding. 

The redhead pointedly looks at Hirotsu's subordinate, Hoshino. She perks up and steps close to him, ready for an order. Chuuya lowers his voice as he says, “I don’t believe they don’t have some other asshole working with them, so I’m going to check outside. I’ll also call one of the Armed Detective bastards to handle the civilians while I’m at it. Stay here and make sure everyone’s safe until I get back and say the coast is clear.”

She whispers back with urgency, “What do we do when the agency arrives?”

“I’m sure they’ll get the police here sooner or later, so it’s best to get out before that happens. Use this on anyone who's not me," he orders, handing her one of his knives. She ogles at the weapon, inspecting its sharpness and craftsmanship with awe. "I'll twist the knob three times before coming back in.”

Hoshino dips her head in acknowledgement and with that, he starts moving. The redhead opens the door and sticks his head out, adjusting his eyes to the dark hallway. He shuts the door behind him and walks along the hall. As he continues down the path, he finds the occasional torn poster on the cracked wall.

This building they're in was once an office. There's a stack of keyboards in one corner of a passing room with a few desks lined together. The computer monitors are broken on the floor, bits and pieces of the screen scattered along with dust bunnies. The sight is repeated for the next few spacious rooms.

At the end of the hall, he finds what he presumes is the lobby with a staircase and the main entrance. He walks to the first step of the stairs and looks up, trying to gauge how far up it goes. He can only see the floor above, so he ascends. As he ventures forward to the hallway of the second floor, Chuuya notes that he's been hearing absolutely nothing aside from his own footsteps. Perhaps the coward was telling the truth after all.

Regardless, the mafioso keeps going. The second floor seems to hold nothing noteworthy, with the exception of one room having small old couches with pillows and blankets. He assumes this is where the brothers were squatting.

The mafioso takes out his phone. He opens to his most recent call with Dazai and taps the on the screen.

He puts it to his ear and, after the first tone, his boyfriend's delighted voice comes through. “Chibi! I take it you’re alright?”

“Yeah, yeah. Forget me, there’s a bunch of kids and women here that need help. They’re all unconscious save for one kid,” Chuuya mutters, starting his trek back to the locker room. “Did you get the other fucker?”

“Of course. He’s sitting peacefully next to me. He lives to see another day,” Dazai murmurs, glancing at the man that’s bound with rope Kunikida made with his Ability.

Chuuya snorts while descending the staircase. “What’s your ETA?”

“Seven minutes. We’d be closer if Kunikida-kun wasn’t such a grandma when it comes to driving.”

Chuuya hears yelling in the background, presumably from Dazai’s partner, and shakes his own head as he reaches the lobby. “Well, I’ve checked out the rest of the building for any stragglers, but it’s just one guy holding the fort. He and your captive are brothers.”

“Is that so?” Dazai muses with a nonchalant hum. "And what did you do to the brother on your end?"

“He’s still alive. I may have broken his arm and pistol-whipped him, but that’s it.”

Dazai chuckles fondly. “I expected nothing less from you, Slug.”

The redhead’s face flushes a bit. "Anyway, this place is just an office building that they squatted in. They kept everyone in the locker room on the first floor."

"Good to know, Chuuya. I'll see you soon! Love you."

The call ends before Chuuya can respond. His face is warm as he processes the last words. He replays it in his head as he makes it back to the door to the locker room, twisting the knob three times before pushing it open.

“Is it safe out there, sir?” Hoshino questions, having found her rightful purse with her belongings. It sits right between her and the boy on a bench.

He nods. "The coast is clear. Seven minutes. You need to get going. Go back to the base and let Hirotsu or Tachihara know you're alright and this situation was forwarded to the agency by me. I'll tell them the details later."

Hoshino stands, picking up her purse. She returns Chuuya’s knife and salutes him before walking out the door to carry out her new orders. The kid watches her go before glancing at Chuuya.

“How did you stop the bullets earlier?”

The mafioso blinks, screaming internally as his face is carefully fixed to display mild surprise. “Oh, right. You saw that, didn’t you?”

The kid gets off the seat and approaches him meekly. He must have been mustering up the courage to ask him. Chuuya taps his foot with slight impatience toward the agency. He really didn’t want to get into the whole Ability talk with this child. The boy remains quiet, gradually appearing more discouraged from being ignored.

Chuuya lets out a sigh and ultimately caves. “Watch closely,” he grumbles. The child perks up as Chuuya demonstrates by levitating his hat above his head.

The boy’s eyes brighten again. “Woah! Is your power telekinesis?!”

Chuuya scratches his own cheek, lowering the hat back onto his head. “Something like that. But you have to keep it a secret, okay?”

The kid nods again, more enthusiastic this time. “I will.”

Chuuya exhales, thankful at how surprisingly easy the situation was. Suddenly, Chuuya hears footsteps growing louder from outside the room. He squares his shoulders in case it’s an enemy. Kunikida bursts through the door, followed by Yosano. The mafioso relaxes his stance as Yosano offers him a quick wave before heading to the boy next to him.

The child clutches onto Chuuya’s pant leg out of fear, causing the mafioso to pat him on the head. “Hey, it’s okay. These two are gonna take care of you and everyone else.”

Kunikida glances at the boy beside Chuuya, who’s watching him with caution. Yosano steps in front of the boy, lowering herself so she doesn’t tower over him and agitate him further. She smiles. “Are you hurt anywhere? I’m a doctor.”

The boy tentatively lets go of Chuuya's leg and follows Yosano as she guides him back to the bench.

As the boy answers her inquiries, Kunikida and Chuuya divert their attention back to each other. “May I ask for a detailed account of how you ended up here, Nakahara?”

“Hey, I’d be down, but,” Chuuya grumbles, gesturing to his own being, “I’m not supposed to be seen here. It’ll cause too much of a mess.”

The blond pushes up his glasses. “Right. Feel free to send me an email then. Go ahead to the red car parked outside while I help Yosano-san. Dazai’s waiting out there.”

“Thanks. I’ll just… head out there then,” Chuuya says awkwardly, turning to the door.

Kunikida gazes at him, contemplating for a moment before speaking again, “I commend you for taking down this man and keeping the civilians safe.”

Chuuya stops. “It was nothing.”

The mafioso walks out the door, hearing the boy shout. “Bye, mister!”

Chuuya looks over his shoulder and waves back with a smile before closing it. He continues moving briskly out of the building and stops before the agency car. The backseat door opens, Dazai’s head poking out with a big smile.

“Chibi! Come sit on my lap! We don’t have a booster seat for you,” he says.

Chuuya groans in annoyance. “I wouldn’t even fit in something like that!”

Dazai tilts his head, a playful grin on his face. “Well I heard from this one before he passed out again that his ability transports whatever joins him in the same shadow into a container of his choice, so long as they are able to fit. He specifically chose lockers.”

The mafioso’s urge to kill the man next to Dazai increases tenfold. Chuuya might as well wring Dazai’s neck too. “I was thinking how nice it would be to go back home. How delusional am I with a shitty mackerel like you…”

“Chuuya’s a bully. He deserved to be stuffed inside a locker.”

“I’ll make you sleep on the couch, fucker. Watch yourself,” the redhead grumbles.

Dazai pouts. “C’mon, Chuuya. I was only kidding. Come here,” he urges, making grabby hands. Chuuya snorts before moving closer, allowing Dazai to embrace his waist. Dazai rests his cheek against Chuuya’s abdomen as the mafioso trails his hands into the brunet's locks of hair.

Chuuya’s able to peek at the other seat next to Dazai, seeing his slumped over kidnapper. “I assume that’s him. You gonna take him to Doc Glasses?”

Dazai nods. “Yep. Ango will show up with the police, so here,” the brunet steps out of the car, forcing Chuuya to step back. Dazai motions for him to sit, “You’ll wait here. They'll be here any minute now.”

Chuuya sighs, practically throwing himself into the car with how tired he is. Dazai chuckles and squeezes his arm. “We’ll be home soon, Slug. Kunikida and I will relay everything to the police and then he’ll drop us off at our place.”

The redhead gives a small smile. “Well, that ain’t so bad then. It beats walking home.”

With Chuuya’s spirit slightly lifted, Dazai shuts the door before he goes around and opens the other door to drag out the suspect with no regard for his restrained legs. It’s Chuuya’s only tidbit of amusement for the next half hour. He remains quiet, either fiddling with his phone or watching the scenes unfold from the window.

He watches all of the victims sluggishly file out of the building, Yosano and Kunikida leading the way while Kunikida drags out the other perpetrator Chuuya knocked out earlier. The police cars arrive, their lights flickering on and off. He watches Ango and Dazai exchange a few words, Dazai appearing unenthusiastic through the whole interaction as he trades off the Ability user. Chuuya starts drumming his fingers against his thighs as he continues waiting, clearly bored.

At some point, he reads a text from Hirotsu saying that Hoshino reported to him, and Chuuya’s invited for drinks tomorrow. Definitely a need to unwind. Chuuya looks up in surprise as the car doors open, the detectives sliding inside with a collective exhaustion.

Everyone wordlessly buckles up and Kunikida powers the vehicle on. Chuuya feels Dazai slide his hand into his own. The redhead squeezes it gently and doesn’t let go for the whole drive.

When Dazai and Chuuya return, they find a plastic bag on the floor, wedged into the corner next to the front door. The mafioso exhales through his nose as he glances at Dazai. “It’s probably cold by now, isn’t it?”

“Definitely. But it will still be good microwaved. Or are you picky about that now?” Dazai questions cheekily.

“You’re the picky bastard, not me,” Chuuya mutters as he reaches down to grab the bag. He unlocks the door to enter their home. The two men shrug off their coats to hang and kick off their shoes in a tranquil silence. Dazai takes the bag away from Chuuya, earning an annoyed grunt.

“You can go sit down and pick out something for us to watch. I’ll just pop these in the microwave,” he says as pats Chuuya on the head. He takes out the plastic food containers and saunters over to the kitchen.

Chuuya immediately beams. “Anything?”

“As long as it’s not a kid’s show.”

“Well, I wasn’t gonna pick that,” Chuuya huffs. He grits his teeth when Dazai makes a doubtful hum as he pushes a few buttons on the microwave. “Jerk.”

The brunet chuckles, but doesn’t reply, so Chuuya moves on to grabbing the remote and turning on the TV. He might as well pick a movie instead of a show because, knowing Dazai and himself, they’ll try to binge the series in one night. And unfortunately, neither of them can afford to do that tonight, so a movie it is. The redhead looks through his options, narrowing down genres when he suddenly discovers an interesting loophole in Dazai’s request. He stifles his own mischievous laughter as he looks through animated movies.

A loud beep comes from the kitchen and that’s his cue that Dazai’s coming over. He quickly picks out one movie and hits play. He pauses the second it fully loads, leaving the screen completely dark. Dazai walks over in quick strides, making small pained noises as he delivers the food onto the coffee table in front of the TV. The food is so piping hot, Chuuya sees clear steam rolling from it. Some of the vegetables in the stir fry have shrunk down.

Chuuya gapes. “Holy fuck. How long did you put them in there?”

Dazai fans his hands in the air limply as he ponders. He has a small smile when he answers, “Three minutes.”

The redhead sighs. “Next time, let it cool off before grabbing the shit.”

“Will Chibi kiss my hands better?”

Dazai is expecting his boyfriend to call him childish. He can see it in his eyes, but Chuuya pats the seat next to him. Dazai blinks, before eagerly sitting beside him. The mafioso tenderly takes both of Dazai’s hands and turns them over, checking his slightly reddened palms. He presses his thumbs gently, watching Dazai's expression with care.

"Still hurts?"

Dazai hesitates before shaking his head. He doesn't make a move to withdraw his hands. Chuuya exhales with a smile before planting his lips on the skin. His touch is light, his kisses are feathers, and Dazai's skin is warmer for that than having been burned.

The redhead pulls back, his hands still caressing Dazai's. "Better?"

"Yes. Slug germs have healing properties, y’know?” Dazai teases, pecking Chuuya on the lips. The redhead rolls his eyes before curling up against Dazai. “So, what did you choose?”

Chuuya points the remote at the TV and hits play. After a minute, Dazai gives Chuuya an unimpressed look. “Wall-E?”

“It’s a movie, not a show,” Chuuya drawls before grabbing his plate of stir-fried noodles and snuggling closer to the brunet, eyes glued to the screen. Dazai leans his head on Chuuya’s and says nothing more, completely content with rewatching this film again.

“I’m still going to have fun with you after this.”

The redhead laughs fondly. “We’ll have time for that. Now, shut up and watch.”

Chapter Text

It’s almost noon when Dazai and Chuuya return to the Armed Detective Agency. Mori and Fukuzawa had been waiting in Fukuzawa’s office for their results. They were tasked with tracking down the few trafficking connections to the Ability user that kidnapped Chuuya last night. It only took a few hours to destroy their hideouts.

“Here’s our complete list of the names involved as well as their ties overseas,” Dazai announces aloud, tossing the folder full of documents onto the table. His tone is a bit tense because Mori is sitting with them, casually having tea with the president. Some peaceful pretense for another bargain of some sort he assumes. Dazai keeps any snide remarks to himself however because Chuuya is right next to him.

Mori smiles at Dazai, not unlike a snake. “Well, I have to commend you two.”

“I’d rather you not,” Dazai grumbles. Chuuya not-so-subtly kicks his foot, making Dazai’s sour look worsen. Mori’s smile doesn’t falter. In fact, it morphs into something more cunning.

"Is there something you want to say, Dazai-kun?"

“What Dazai’s trying to say is,” Chuuya says with an edge as he glares at his boyfriend before returning his gaze to the two older men, “We’d appreciate it if you consider this mission substantial evidence for our current relationship."

Fukuzawa gives the Port Mafia boss the side eye as Mori ponders to himself. The agency's president did already offer his blessing and support. Plus, the test and mission was mostly Mori's idea.

"Yes," Mori says eventually, shifting in his seat to reach for his tea. "It should suffice." 

Chuuya lets out a breath he didn't realize he had been holding. Dazai stands up from the couch with a loud groan. "Alright, good talk. Chuuya, come."

The redhead whirls his head toward the brunet, fuming. "W-what the fuck," he grumbles to himself as his gaze follows Dazai exiting the room. The detective doesn’t even take a look back. Chuuya returns his attention to the other men in the room. "I'm gonna see what's up with him. I’ll be back soon, Boss."

Mori puts up a hand. “Hold on, Chuuya-kun.”

The redhead freezes after he gets up. “What’s up?”

“I’ll be discussing a few more things with Fukuzawa-dono before calling a car to escort me back. You’re free to take off. I believe you’ve earned it.”

Chuuya stammers, “Are you sure?”

Mori smiles, a mischievous glint in his eye. “Unless you’d like me to give you some paperwork, I wouldn’t mind either way.”

“T-that’s fine, Boss. Thank you for your kindness,” Chuuya responds quickly, rushing out of the room.

Fukuzawa glances at Mori, sipping his tea. Mori flicks his gaze to the agency’s president and quirks his brow. “What?”

“I wasn’t expecting you to let them go that easy.”

Mori leans back into his seat. "I feel happy for my Executive. My only worry is if it’ll serve as a distraction. As it turns out, there’s no change in how they work, aside from Dazai-kun taking extra care with Corruption, which will help keep Chuuya-kun out-of-commission less. I do see it as a benefit.”

Fukuzawa hums. "I'm surprised you feel happy for anyone, if we were to set aside your own gains."

“I’m not without a heart, Fukuzawa-dono.”

“Could’ve fooled me,” the president says dryly. He sips his tea as Mori physically recoils. 

When Chuuya exits the president’s office, he immediately glances around the room to look for his boyfriend. He finds him at his desk, trying to pester Kunikida.

Chuuya stomps over, catching everyone's attention. “Oi, what the fuck was that about?"

Dazai groans, leaning back into his office chair. "Oh please, Slug. He must have orchestrated you being stuffed into a locker. I'm not completely sure how yet, but I don't buy that he's not involved somehow."

Chuuya blushes, ignoring the distant snickers from Ranpo. "S-stop saying that shit. It's over anyway. I don't get why you're pissed over it."

"Because Chibi is so dumb," Dazai sighs with exasperation.

The redhead growls, ready to yell before Kunikida interrupts without looking from his paperwork, "If you're going to have an argument, can you do it outside? Anywhere away from me is preferable."

Dazai stands up. "No need to tell me twice, Kunikida-kun," he says, grabbing Chuuya and dragging him along by the wrist. They exit the agency and walk further from the door. Dazai's hold on Chuuya's wrist slips, but the brunet continues his pace until he stops in front of a window.

Chuuya glances at the distance they've traveled from the agency before looking to the taller man. "Why the hell are you acting like this, Dazai?"

"I don't have to act happy for Mori too, do I?"

The redhead's stricken by the tense forwardness, reeling backwards a few steps like Dazai just slapped him. He blinks a few times, watching his boyfriend, who's gazing out the window. Chuuya's throat swells up and he chokes, causing Dazai to finally look at him with a startled expression. He eventually mumbles out, "Have you been acting the whole time?"

The little acts of service Dazai asked for, their small and unconventional dates, Dazai's smiles after each day getting more relaxed and definitely less practiced.

Chuuya didn't want to believe it was all an act.

Dazai winces. "I didn't mean it that way," he murmurs, tone softening up as he approaches Chuuya's space. He's a bit hesitant to reach out, but he does anyway. Chuuya remains still as the brunet tenderly brushes his cheek. "No more tricks, remember?"

The redhead relaxes his posture, brows still pinched. "Yeah, but I thought you'd be glad to not have to see him anymore."

"I know you're not that blind, Chuuya. He sets up a 'test' after you tell him about us, and not even twenty minutes later, you get kidnapped," Dazai rambles, gesticulating with his hands. The redhead can't even get a word in. Dazai keeps going, and Chuuya doesn't interrupt him. He’s more surprised at the concern Dazai’s actually displaying. "Then the next day, his supposed test is having us find the actual traffickers so he can recruit them and build a larger force? I mean, this isn't the first time he staged something like this. You and I both know that."

Chuuya bites his own lip. It goes without saying, and these thoughts of Dazai's stem from worry and experience. "Look, I can admit, the coincidence is weird, but that would suggest he knew we were dating initially."

Dazai releases a sigh. He runs a hand through his own hair, deep in thought. The redhead watches him, his heart thumping against his ribcage. "I'm…" Sorry.

Nothing comes out. Chuuya understands the message and he slumps his shoulders, smiling faintly. He grabs Dazai's hands and holds them against his own chest. The brunet can feel his heartbeat.

"It's okay. Don't apologize. I know you have every reason to hate him," Chuuya states calmly, caressing Dazai's palms with his thumbs. "At the end of the day, he is still my boss."

The brunet wears a grimace. "Which is unfortunate."

Chuuya snorts, the spark in his eyes returning to life. He squeezes his hands in comfort.

"I never cared for Mori's approval," Dazai mutters. He pulls one of his hands away from Chuuya's hold to brush back his own bangs. "Although, I suppose he'll be less of a hindrance to me now. You’re right. I won't have to see him again after this, thanks to you."

A flush of pink coats Chuuya's face as he pulls away with a grunt. "Yeah, yeah. I do hope you're happy though."

Dazai exhales through his nose. He really wishes he could rewind time before he lost his cool. He didn't want to plant any more seeds of doubt in Chuuya's head. It's not the first time he's snapped at Chuuya since they've been together clearly. They never ceased losing their temper with one another, and they knew a mutual romance wouldn't fix it. But it's almost cathartic for the brunet to reach forward immediately to quell the nerves before Chuuya retreats again into anger.

Chuuya seems to recognize this progress as well.

"I am happy. But you know what would lighten up the mood even more?"

Chuuya quirks up his brow. "What do you got?"

Dazai purses his lips into a as he digs into one of the pockets of his coat. "Can't even pretend to be shocked anymore, can you?"

Dazai lifts up a slip of paper from his pocket and hands it to Chuuya. The redhead takes it, reading 'Coffee Break' on the coupon.

"That actually sounds good right now," the mafioso says, looking up to see Dazai's cheerful smile.

In the distance, the couple hear a door open. They turn their heads and see Ranpo and Yosano down the hall, coming towards them.

"I could really go for some strawberry shortcake at the café right about now," Ranpo exclaims to himself. He marches past the couple with a quick wave, heading for the stairs.

"The hell?" Chuuya mutters, lifting his brow. "We're also going."

Yosano slows down her pace as she gets closer. "Well, no worries. Ranpo and I will be at another table to give you two some privacy if needed," she says, mostly to Chuuya. "Just a warning: Dazai has acquired quite a hefty tab."

Chuuya sent the brunet a glare, the latter avoiding Chuuya's scathing eyes as he whistled to himself. "Is that so?"

Yosano's laugh is quiet as she's further down the hall, trying to catch up with Ranpo. When it's just the two of them alone in the hall again, no sign of other agency members coming, Chuuya fully faces Dazai.

"You wouldn't happen to be bringing me along so I can take care of your tab, right?" Chuuya asks in a sickly sweet tone, hands on his hips. Dazai gulps because of the shorter man's feral grin.

The brunet smiles innocently, batting his eyes. "I'm not sure what you're getting at. I just want to spend some time with my handsome, little, kind boyfriend."

"Oi. The inclusion of 'little' was unnecessary," Chuuya grunts. "Whatever. I'll pay the damn thing. If I hear you start another one after this though, you're dead."

Dazai releases a breathy moan, putting the back of his hand to his own forehead, as if he was feeling faint. "Don't threaten me with a good time."

Chuuya begins walking off. "Screw this. I'm going to sit with those two and pretend I don't know you."

Dazai blinks and rushes after Chuuya. They bicker nonsensically as they make their way to Café Uzumaki, no doubt disturbing the neighboring offices they pass by. Chuuya pulls the front door open, the bell jingling to announce their arrival.

Dazai steps through and Chuuya follows. They see Lucy, who looks mildly surprised at the two of them entering together.

"Slow day," she mumbles with a sigh. "Pick wherever you guys wanna sit. Not many people around."

"Thanks, Lucy-chan," Dazai says with a charming smile, ignoring her theatrical hurl. He saunters to a table with Chuuya as Lucy trails behind, asking what she can start them off with before leaving to fetch their coffee orders.

They slide into their seats and Dazai reaches for Chuuya's hands over the table. The redhead looks at their fingers before meeting Dazai's eyes. "You still got shit to do after this?"

Dazai frowns, releasing Chuuya's hands. He crosses his arms and leans them onto the table's edge. "No bringing up work on our date."

The redhead rolls his eyes, lips twitching to form an amused smirk. "Sorry."

"You bring it up again, I might do something to embarrass you."

"You do that every day, you mummy."

Dazai squints at his boyfriend. "Low blow, but that's to be expected."

Chuuya slams his palm on the table, causing the silverware and condiments to wobble. "You gonna finish that goddamn joke?"

" Ahem," Lucy's voice cuts in before Dazai can come up with a snarky response. The two of them turn their heads to acknowledge her. She musters her customer-service smile as she delivers their coffee. "Here you guys go. Have you had a chance to look at the menu?" 

Chuuya peeks at the paper that he had been ignoring since they arrived. His eyes trail down the list of items and categories as Dazai orders an egg sandwich with a fruit platter. Chuuya decides on a strawberry shortcake. Lucy nods before hurrying to the kitchen.

"Copying my order, Mr. Fancy Hat?" Ranpo questions from the booth behind them.

"So much for privacy," Chuuya scoffs, glaring at Ranpo over his shoulder. "Sorry. Had no clue it was off-limits."

Dazai chuckles, glancing at Ranpo. "Don't give him such a hard time, Ranpo-san. Chuuya couldn't see the menu since the table's too high for him."

The redhead reaches out and grips Dazai's collar. Their cups clatter against their saucers from the force. "Is the table too high now?"

The brunet puts his hands up in surrender. "Chuuya, you don't want to pay for my funeral on top of my tab, do you?"

"I'm honestly considering it."

Dazai whines as Yosano fails to stifle her laughter. Ranpo looks back at her with a fond grin as he takes a bite of his cake. The two detectives listen in on the couple's shenanigans for a long while, thoroughly entertained. 

They have concluded once again that Nakahara Chuuya is more than alright for their fellow office menace.

Chapter Text

It’s early in the morning. Dazai roams about the agency office, appearing to be back to his usual lazy self, but Kunikida doesn’t give him much flack for it because the agency isn’t busy at all today. However, there was a sudden shift in the bandaged-detective's behavior as the hours dragged on. His brow is furrowed in a state of concentration and he had an edge of nervousness in his gait while he paced around. Ranpo and Atsushi aren't the only ones who could tell something was amiss with the brunet. All of the members share furtive glances, wondering who will take the initiative.

The agency as a whole can work through Dazai’s disturbances and they have all mastered the art of tuning him out, but without many tasks to divide amongst each other, they are stuck with watching the brunet gradually burn himself out over something. Over what, they weren’t sure (with the exception of Ranpo, naturally). When everyone's eyes land on Atsushi, the young detective heaves a sigh. Of course , he's the one elected to check on his mentor. 

Atsushi turns in his own seat and begins, "Um, Dazai-san?"

The brunet’s stature goes rigid, startling the young detective. Dazai shifts his gaze to his protégé, offering a warm smile. "Yes, Atsushi-kun? Something you need?"

He puts a hand up politely and shakes his head. "Not really. Just wondering if something is on your mind."

"Me? Oh," Dazai chuckles, waving his hand. His tone is less convincing than usual. "I'm working through ideas of a painless way to suffocate."

Atsushi automatically looks resigned while Kyouka frowns next to him. She speaks next, "You can't do that. Chuuya-san will know about it."

Dazai sighs, dragging a hand down his face. "I'm not serious about it. Not anymore."

The release of that statement flows out, clearing the way for Dazai's muddled mind. He never put it into words until now. He had only realized how long it's been since he felt unsure of his surroundings, the current state of his life. Things have been going well and they actually have begun to flourish and culminate within the brunet.

These changes are actively affecting how he's perceiving life, and it's scary. It's gotten to the point where he perceives a future with Chuuya and an actual dog that the redhead will jokingly call their baby.

He doesn't feel out of his element as much anymore, whereas before, it was a constant challenge to remind himself that Oda implored him to be here. To at least go and utilize his intelligence to save others. He said it with his dying breath and only a fool would waste such a breath.

Despite what others have said about the man going forth in a suicidal mission, Oda Sakunosuke was no fool.

"Isn't that a good thing though?" Atsushi exclaims. He sounds weary, but his expression is borderline thankful.

The brunet shifts his gaze around the office, finding all eyes on him. The people he's grown to admire and care for, in spite of his best efforts to shake their foundation, to test their patience and have them be rid of him. He finds himself glad they never really took the bait.

Dazai starts to remember Chuuya calling them his safety net . Something to help him bounce back. He hasn't thought much of asking them for advice.

He takes a deep breath. They’ve given no reason to be untrustworthy. So, he imparts the one thing that's been heavy on his mind.

"I don't want to die. Not before I can marry Chuuya officially."

There's a collective gasp before a delighted scream rings out. It has everyone cringing away from the source. Naomi claps her hands together, all excited. "You're going to propose?! You need to do it in the most romantic way possible."

Dazai slumps onto the couch, all disheartened. "Well, that's my problem. The chibi is the one with all the money," he mutters. After a few seconds, the brunet perks up, eyes gleaming with mischief. "I'm sure he won't notice a few thousands missing."

"Shameless, even to your future husband," Kunikida comments.

Dazai's face warms up a bit, but he hides it with a short coughing fit. Kunikida quirks a brow. The brunet beams. "Chuuya is my husband. Even if I don't get him a fancy ring, there's no one else who would accept my proposal."

The blond halts his work and pushes up his glasses while staring at Dazai. "Do you have a ring prepared?"

Dazai's smile shrinks a tad. "Not yet."

"I know I call him Fancy Hat," Ranpo states, "But you should probably go less for a fancy ring and more of a ring that has meaning."

Well, who could argue that?

Kenji has a big smile as he jumps into the discussion. "Are you going to take him on a nice date?"

Not a bad idea. In fact, there is a coupon for Date Night that Dazai can give Chuuya later. Chuuya won’t suspect a thing.

"Correct, Kenji-kun."

The boy smiles while Naomi squeals. "That's so cute! Have you thought about where you’ll take him?"

The brunet has a few ideas. Chuuya has the heart of a romantic in him, so Dazai has planned a long date for them. "I have a few places in mind.”

“Well, hurry up and spill," Yosano urges from her seat at the side of Ranpo’s desk.

Everyone pays attention as he begins to lay out the plan. He wants to take the redhead to Motomachi first since there's plenty of restaurants he has enjoyed dining at.

Tanizaki chimes in, "It's also right next to Chinatown, so even more options for food in the area!"

"True," Ranpo comments as he munches on his potato chips. "You could take him out to some fancy restaurant. There should also be a really good dessert spot near there."

"He is a man of impeccable taste in wine, Dazai," Yosano adds. "The restaurant you choose must have a favorite of his. He'll know how thoughtful you're being."

Dazai makes a short hum at the suggestions, stroking his chin. "I suppose. I'll wonder if he'll care where we're going," the brunet starts to grumble to himself, but everyone catches it. "What if it's not enough?"

"It's rare to see you uncertain. Regardless, does it matter if he cares where the location is? As long as he's with you, that should suffice for him," Kunikida pipes up, stunning the brunet. "At least, that's how I see an ideal partner."

"It's even rarer for you to try and be comforting, Kunikida-kun! I could just hug you!" Dazai exclaims, standing up and rushing at his partner with open arms.

"S-stay away from me!" the blond man yells, swiftly leaving his seat to dodge Dazai's flimsy arms. They run around the desks for a few seconds until Atsushi speaks up.

"Kunikida-san's right though. I think Chuuya-san wouldn't mind being anywhere because you'll be there. I'm sure if he's been to a place before, he'll cherish his time with you over his previous experience there."

Dazai stops running and looks at his protégé. From his uttered words, there's several nods of agreement.

"Who knew I'd get a nugget of wisdom from you, Atsushi-kun?" Dazai eventually says with a small, grateful smile.

The white-haired boy flushes and he scratches his own cheek meekly. "W-well, I just thought that's what counts at the end of the day!"

Kyouka had been silently staring for some time, Dazai almost forgot she was present until she interjects, slightly on Atsushi's flustered behalf. "Do you plan on proposing at the restaurant?"

Everyone's really looking at him now with anticipation. Even Kunikida looks on edge. He has to admit, it's funny how invested all of them seem to be.

"No. I've chosen Harbor View Park nearby, when it's night time. On a clear day."

Yosano whistles. "Quite the romantic view. You'll woo him, no doubt in my mind."

Naomi enthusiastically nods. "You better report the results as soon as they come in!"

Dazai chuckles. "I'm sure you all will figure it out when it happens."

The brunet has one more piece to his plan. He'll make the phone call when the time comes.

It takes a couple of days to set the plan in motion after obsessing over the weather forecast to find a perfectly clear night. It's mostly because Chuuya loves the stars, but Dazai thinks he should have them as good luck or company in case something goes wrong.

It's a yes or no question. He really has to doubt his own worth to expect Chuuya to say no to him. He can predict the redhead saying yes, even shouting it.

But there's this small inkling in Dazai's gut that worries still. It's unfamiliar and he doesn't want to think about it, so he shoves his face into one of the novels Chuuya owns as he waits for the mafioso to come home.

Dazai is on the couch, resting on his elbows with the book in his hands. While he flicks through the pages, unable to focus, he hears the front door opening. The brunet lets go of the book and it lands on the couch cushion.

"I'm home," Chuuya calls out. He doesn't sound thoroughly exhausted today, which Dazai takes as a good sign to enact his plan for tonight. He rolls off the couch and springs up from the floor.

"Welcome home, Chibi," Dazai says, meeting Chuuya's amused gaze.

"What are you up to?"

The brunet approaches Chuuya as the mafioso toes off his loafers. "Was reading one of your boring books, but now I was thinking we could go out somewhere to eat."

The redhead chooses to ignore the jab towards his book collection and hums, setting his shoes on the rack close to the front door. "We have been having takeout more lately," he mumbles to himself. He glances at Dazai as he asks, "What are you in the mood for?"

"I do have a place in mind," the brunet responds with a cryptic smile.

"And that is?"

"You'll know when we get there."

The redhead blinks, lifting up his brow in mild surprise. "Well, you're gonna have to tell me if you want to take the car."

Dazai claps his hands together. "Actually, I was hoping to walk with Chuuya the whole way."

Chuuya furrows his brow, clearly not into the idea. Dazai musters up his best pleading gaze to make Chuuya cave. He almost gives up himself until the redhead draws out a sigh, scratching the back of his neck. "Alright. But it better not be a fucking hike to Hokkaido or something."

Dazai whines. "Would I really go that far? Put some thought into what you're saying, Chibi."

The mafioso exhales through his nose as a smirk spreads across his face. There's a joyous spark in his eye that Dazai actually hopes remains when he pops the big question. "You're not known to want to take strolls."

"We don't do many…," Dazai says, fingers grazing Chuuya's cheek. The redhead leans into the touch, fixing the taller man with curious eyes. Dazai clears his throat. " I don't do many things."

Romantic things.

Chuuya's mouth falls open slightly, brows knit together. "Osamu, you okay?"

The brunet shakes his head, a genuine smile on his face. "Never better, my dear. Let's get ready."

Chuuya stares at him for a while to assess his mood before returning the smile. "So, how's this gonna work? Are you gonna lead me everywhere by the hand?"

"You're catching on."

Chuuya pushes up, raising himself with the tips of his toes to give Dazai a brief, chaste kiss. Dazai doesn't have time to deepen it before the redhead pulls back. "You want to shower together?"

A sly grin. "Trying to foil my plan already?"

Chuuya laughs. "It's not my fault if you get carried away."

The brunet lets out a chuckle as he pushes Chuuya along in the direction of the bedroom.

Dazai was lounging on Chuuya's bed, pretending to be engrossed in his suicide guide. He found the instructions and facts drifting away from him, the letters scrambling and floating off into space. His mouth was slack and dry.

This too, has become uninspiring.

"Osamu, I have something I want to give you."

Dazai blinked at the use of his first name. Chuuya only uses it to get the brunet's undivided attention. He glanced from his book to the redhead, who was fidgeting.

"Is it a kiss?" Dazai questioned, partially joking. When the redhead said nothing else, the detective set his book aside with a sigh. He couldn't read it anymore regardless, but Chuuya didn't know that. "Alright. What is it?"

"It's uh, here," Chuuya stammered awkwardly, handing him a thin, horizontally long book. The title read Redeemable For Love Coupons: Date Ideas, Activities, & Much More. Dazai stared at the cover in silence and hadn’t so much as moved, further agitating the mafioso.

"Well? You gonna look at it?" he urged.

A long silence followed. Eventually, Dazai spoke, "Has Slug been watching romance flicks again? This is like a gift for high school sweethearts."

The redhead widened his eyes and snarled defensively. "No. I just thought you could look through it and find shit we could do. That you would want to do."

Dazai hummed, inspecting the back of the book and finding it blank. "Well, this doesn't seem like something we'd do. These are for new mingled couples that don't have an ounce of romantic flair in them."

The mafioso's face reddened. "So what?! Just look," Chuuya growled, his fists shaking with frustration.

"Nah. It's pointless," Dazai concluded, tossing it over his shoulder. "What a stupid gift."

From the corner of his eye, he saw his boyfriend's mouth hanging open. Chuuya released a sharp inhale as the book landed with a small thud. Dazai went back to flicking through his guide while sporting a bored expression.

After a few seconds of tense silence, Chuuya sighed in defeat and walked out of the bedroom. He didn't explode with anger like he should have, and as much as Dazai wanted to ignore it, that sigh pained him in a way. He spared a glance at the coupon book left behind, pitched up near the nightstand. Dazai caved after rereading the same sentence of his guide, despite knowing the method by heart. 

He knew all of it by heart. He knew Chuuya too, but that heavy sigh signaled something he hadn't explored yet. Chuuya reeled in his fury instead of unleashing it, something the brunet hadn't foreseen.

Why? Why did Chuuya spare him?

Was he giving up? Dazai at a time thought perhaps that would've been best. The mafioso could naturally do a lot better without him.

But he figured Chuuya must be changing. Or at least making the conscious effort to.

And something made Dazai’s heart lurch at the thought of Chuuya giving up on him. He grabbed the little book and opened it, reading every coupon and flipping through their duplicates.

Maybe he was rather callous. He'll give one to Chuuya as a way to apologize. Surely it wouldn't hurt to try it out either. Chuuya giving him acts of service to try pleasing Dazai?

On second thought, that doesn't sound bad at all.

When they arrive at Motomachi, Dazai leads Chuuya toward the entrance of a gastronomy restaurant, known for their French-style dishes and wide selection of wine. The redhead's eyes are wide as he turns his gaze from the place to Dazai.

"You're taking me here?"

"Don't look so shocked," Dazai grumbles. He takes Chuuya's expression as a good sign that he chose the right place. "You make it seem like I deprive you of joy."

Chuuya purses his lips as if what Dazai is saying is correct while the taller man lets out an affronted gasp. The redhead chuckles and leans into his side. "I'm only kidding. Let's go."

The couple are led to a table with a nice view of the shopping street, the afternoon sun gleaming against the tinted window. The server appears next to them shortly after, asking for their drink orders. Chuuya goes right for a single glass of their finest merlot as Dazai orders a glass of his favorite whiskey. It'll help calm the slow build-up of nerves sprouting along his limbs.

As the waiter leaves to fetch their orders and give them time to observe the menu, Dazai grins at his boyfriend. "Not going for a whole bottle?"

"Please. I have no reason to drink that much," the redhead mutters as he lifts his gaze from the menu to glare at the teasing detective. "Besides, you've got other places to take me, right?"

"You're right. I'm not the type of owner to take a dog on a walk and then carry him when he's too hammered to use his little legs."

There's a loud thud and the table setting shifts slightly. A few heads turn in their direction while Dazai hisses from the swift kick he received under the table.

"Can't have a nice moment with you without you making a fucking dog joke," Chuuya growls at him. "Don't make me strangle you here."

"You already hurt me!"

"It was deserved."

"I take you out to dinner and this is what I get," Dazai groans, pouting and laying his forehead against the table while he rubs his shin. It doesn't actually hurt.

"The way I see it, I'm still paying for it, scrub. Now suck it up. Our drinks are coming."

Typical Chuuya, alert when alcohol is calling his name. Dazai sighs, picking his head up as the server slides near them, delivering their drinks with poise. They bid their gratitude as the waiter leaves to start preparing the delivery of their courses. The redhead swirls his wine, stem pinched between his fingers.

"So are you going to tell me anything about what you have planned?" He questions. Dazai wags his fingers side-to-side as he sips his whiskey. "Not even gonna give me a hint?"

The brunet removes the glass from his lips to evasively answer, "You'll see soon enough."

Chuuya arches a brow, but doesn't press further. Time passes and they work through small talk and their food. At times they even share small bites like there's no one else in the world. 

After they finish their meal and the bill is paid, Dazai offers his hand out to his boyfriend, who smiles unabashedly and takes it. This feels good. Dazai must be doing this right if Chuuya's not nervous about displaying affection. As they leave the restaurant and step outside, he thinks about Ranpo’s suggestion. Dazai turns his head to address his boyfriend.

"Care for dessert?"

Chuuya blinks. "If you want some, I'm all for it."

Dazai purses his lips. "Maybe we can share. I feel pretty full."

"Sounds good to me."

With that, they head to a nearby dessert place with a menu full of traditional sweets. They decide to share an order of anmitsu. The clear jelly is bordered with a colorful arrangement of fruit and topped with red bean paste and sweet ice cream. After indulging in their treat, Chuuya insists they keep moving, much to Dazai's dismay.

"Chibi, let's rest a bit. I have a food baby," the brunet whines. He rests his cheek against the table.

"We've been here for almost ten minutes since we finished eating! You've had enough rest. We gotta walk this off. Your plan honestly didn't end here, did it?"

The way he asks makes Dazai bristle. "Of course not. I have about three other places to take you."

"About three?" Chuuya mumbles. Dazai doesn't elaborate further and Chuuya just sighs, but he shakes Dazai by the shoulder.  "Alright. Let's get a move on before it gets completely dark."

They leave and find the sky is turning into a hue of lavender, the sunset blocked by the buildings. Dazai hopes Chuuya is up for a stop at the arcade closeby. They haven't been to one since he was in the Port Mafia.

"Would you like to go to the arcade, for old time's sake?"

The redhead stops walking. His eyes narrow. "I could have my revenge on you for the last time we played Smash."

Dazai huffs. "I played fair and square. Chibi just has terrible reaction time."

"I'll show you, bastard! I'm gonna kick your ass in Street Fighter for real!" Chuuya declares, marching ahead of him in the direction of the arcade. Dazai laughs as he trails behind.

When they enter the arcade, there isn't a single care in either of them. In other words, nothing is weighing them down. If Chuuya wasn't relaxed before, he certainly is now even if he's slinging curses at Dazai. The two of them are smiling joyously and having fun in the midst of their yells.

He beats Chuuya in almost every game again. Although to the redhead's credit, Street Fighter was a close call. However, Dazai struck him with a parry and dealt a deadly combo at the last few seconds. The redhead did get a higher score in Taiko no Tatsujin than he did, but that was it. Chuuya broke the machine and they quietly had to leave because the children who were waiting for said machine caused an uproar.

After they exit the arcade, they double over in laughter while the front doors close shut. Pedestrians in the area stare at them as they walk, but the two men didn't care. They were young again. Dazai wipes a tear from the corner of his eye as he straightens up.

Chuuya gathers his breath before he turns to his boyfriend. "I needed that."

"You crushed their hopes and dreams, Chuuya. They were looking forward to that game."

"Oi. You were laughing too," he mutters with a weak glare.

He blows a raspberry at the redhead before he looks to the sky, now absent of its orange swirls. The coolness has settled and he can see the moon rearing its pale face. The stars will show themselves soon, but there's no rush. His heartbeat is gentle to him when he focuses back to Chuuya.

"Shall we?" Dazai asks, offering his hand again.

Chuuya takes it and they step into a rhythm together, watching the night shape around them. The street lights flash on, beacons along the dark road they travel. It takes about fifteen minutes for them to reach the outskirts of Harbor View Park. Dazai feels Chuuya's hand squeeze his as he slowly guides him along the arduous flight of stairs.

"I can't remember the last time I was here," the redhead muses. "This is lovely."

A small breeze brushes past the tree leaves, making a melodic fluttering noise that echoes beyond their ears. They reach the top of the stairs and Dazai lets his fingers slip from Chuuya's grasp.

Chuuya is taking in his surroundings like it's a home he's been away from for too long. Dazai breathes in the crisp air, his heart becoming one with the wind at the sight of Chuuya's serene expression. The brunet partially wonders if he displayed this amount of vulnerability to Chuuya when he showed up on his doorstep.

He figures yes, he had.

He loves him so much.

The colors that ran away from the night sky are here in the numerous flowers spread through the gardens. Chuuya is walking ahead and the brunet lets him, a loving smile on his face the whole time. The mafioso turns on his heel to glance at Dazai and wait for him to catch up when he knows he's strayed a bit down the path.

"You're free to run around if you want, Chuuya," Dazai says, half-jokingly when he catches up to the redhead for the third time.

"And I thought I was supposed to be Slug ," Chuuya teases, hands on his hips. He's getting too smug at this rate, Dazai thinks.

"You still are. Believe me."

"Hah?!"

Dazai grazes Chuuya's cheek with his fingertips, silencing him. Soothing him. "You haven't even caught onto what's going on." Chuuya's brows pinch together. The brunet continues as he wraps an arm around Chuuya's frame and holds the redhead close to him, "I'm sure you've noticed the lack of people around."

The redhead did, but he figured it must be because it's a weekday. Still, now that Dazai mentions it, it's weird how empty this place is. Usually, it's teeming with couples, sightseers, or the occasional jogger. So far, it's just been him and Dazai the whole time. "What did you do?"

Dazai chuckles into his ear, making Chuuya shudder against him. "There you go, accusing me."

Chuuya mumbles into the brunet's sleeve, "How can I not? You make it sound like you know something. You're capable of pulling some shit like this, even now."

"I suppose you could call me a magician. I made everyone disappear," Dazai wavers his voice like a ghost as he lets go of Chuuya. He holds up a finger and watches Chuuya's eyes follow his movement. "I have one more surprise. We'll have to reach the observation deck."

"Hah," Chuuya grins. "Consider it done."

The mafioso continues along the trail, passing through the next flower garden with plenty of benches and gorgeous small wooden arches. Dazai keeps his eyes on Chuuya the entire time, watching how he lifts his gaze to the sky and inhales.

They circle around the sunken fountain and continue onward to a straight and narrow bridge. When they are halfway through the walkway, they can see the empty observation area. Chuuya is entranced, for he walks up the steps under the baby blue shade. His hands perch themselves on the barrier while he takes in the scenery in front of him. Yokohama Bay Bridge is alight in the distance. The ports are glowing, joining the skyline. That glow extends to the reflection in the water. It's shimmering gold and silver.

"Pretty different without anyone here."

Dazai is only a moment behind. "It's peaceful, isn't it?" He reaches into his pocket, feeling the small box. His gaze moves to the sky; to the stars. They're here to witness.

"Yeah."

He gets on one knee and steadies his arms as he pops the box's lid open with his fingers. He swallows thickly before he calmly calls out the name he loves saying most, "Chuuya."

The redhead turns around and time seems to slow down from there. Chuuya's long locks flow against the coming gusts of wind as he fully faces the brunet. From there, Dazai can note the exact millisecond Chuuya understands what's happening. His reaction falls into place. His eyes double in size, his lips part, and his chest rises all at once. The blue irises begin to shine with the help of a nearby lamp post.

God, the sight is better than he imagined.

“It’s not the most impressive ring, but I hope it’ll do,” Dazai jokes, raising his arms slightly to present it more clearly to Chuuya. The band is a black titanium swirl. It starts at the top of the circular-cut gemstone that wraps around until it comes back to the gem, ending at the bottom edge. Sleek and eye-catching.

“You know I’d never care about that,” Chuuya whispers. He lifts his gaze away from the ring to the man presenting it. "It's beautiful."

"From the moment I said you'd be my dog for life, I have always wanted to keep you close," he begins. “I couldn’t forget you, even on the other side.” The mafioso suddenly squeezes his eyes shut while Dazai feels his own fingers twitch around the box. The brunet's heart pounds, screaming for the light of day to shine upon it. Eventually, he hears a sob.

"Chuuya?" No response except for trembling and clenched fists. Dazai pleads, "Chuuya, won't you open your eyes to me?"

A sharp sniff. The redhead takes a shuddered breath before he responds, "I'm trying, damn it."

"Oh, Chuuya... It's nothing I haven't seen before."

" This is different!" he argues in bubbly frustration, throwing his hands up in the air. Dazai laughs, the burn of dread completely extinguished now. Chuuya curses to himself as he quickly swipes the corners of his eyes. "Get on with it."

"I'm trying to be romantic here," Dazai titters while shifting on his bent knee.

"Oh, because calling me a dog is somehow romantic?"

"You're missing the bigger picture, as per usual."

"Oh my—! Just put the ring on my fucking finger, Osamu!"

Dazai's next retort leaves him. He sighs blissfully as Chuuya closes in. Dazai feels Chuuya grab his hands. However, the kneeling man doesn’t make a move to take the ring from the box. He schools his expression, his eyes gleaming a gold that rivals the city’s skyline. Chuuya is still against its glow.

“Humor me a little. I’ve spent a long time in the past wondering if this could ever be possible for me. You’ve given me a chance after I’ve hurt you and angered you," he pauses to wet his lips that have gone dry against the wind. His lips that await sealing. “And when we worked together again, I realized I still want you to be mine."

Chuuya gazes at him so tenderly as he whispers, "Osamu, I am yours."

The admittance he needs to continue. The stars are mere specks compared to Chuuya's shining eyes. Dazai feels the hands over his own slip away as he raises the box higher. "Chuuya, will you let me be yours?"

"Yes," Chuuya cries out, unable to stop the tears from flowing. “Fuck yes, I’ll marry you.”

While the brunet takes his hand to slide the ring on, Chuuya sniffles and wipes at his face with his free hand. Dazai rises from the ground, Chuuya grasping onto his forearms to steady him. When he's stood up, he hovers over, his eyes never leaving Chuuya's until he’s practically tackled. He braces against the attack with a fond smile, caressing Chuuya’s hair.

"Hurry up and kiss me," he pleads.

“What’s the rush, Chibi?”

The redhead whispers, “I feel like this is a long drawn-out dream.”

“Why’s that? Do I not feel real to you?” Dazai grasps his fiancé's hands and guides them to his own cheeks. “I can feel you. Can you feel me?”

Chuuya nods. He pushes himself on his toes to plant a kiss, which Dazai accepts, deepening it. When it’s broken, Chuuya gives him another one more gently. The redhead exhales through his nose as he caresses the brunet's cheeks. “Had another just to make sure.”

Dazai laughs as Chuuya wraps his arms around his frame and rests his head against his chest. The detective returns the embrace as he looks to the night sky. It's just the two of them, alone in this quiet corner of the world. He makes a mental note to send a thankful text to Akutagawa later for securing the perimeter.

The silence isn't forever, but he doesn't mind when it's Chuuya breaking it. "Do you know why I gave you those coupons, Osamu?"

Dazai blinks, lowering his gaze from the sky. "You wanted us to feel like a normal couple, right?"

"That's part of it, but the real reason was because I wanted you to be more open to getting affection from me. You don't have to confide in me for everything if you don't want to, but I'm always willing to be here for you."

He swallows thickly and his hold on Chuuya tightens. He’s never going to leave him again. Not unless he was asked to by the redhead. If Chuuya didn’t love him anymore. "I don't deserve you."

Chuuya's eyes blink, owlish from the admission. Then, they are fond. "Well, you're stuck with me whether you like it or not," he declares. He puts his left hand out, showing the ring off. "I never thought I'd be proposed to. I was thinking of doing it during our first official anniversary. You were one step ahead, as always."

Chuuya was going to propose. He wanted to be with him. Wants to be. Dazai slumps his shoulders in relief, the weight over him sliding off and setting his heart free. His eyes burn against the cool breeze. Chuuya sighs into his embrace.

“What’s the last place you have to take me?”

"Hm?"

Chuuya lifts his head to look up at him. "Earlier, after we got anmitsu, you said you had three places to take me. What's the third one?"

Dazai loosens his hold. “Home.”

"The longer I'm with you, the more cheesy you become," Chuuya comments. Still, it works like a charm, for a tinge of red dusts the mafioso’s cheeks. 

"That's because you make my heart melt, Chibi," Dazai rumbles, right as Chuuya is caught between a groan and a laugh.

Eventually, Chuuya brings a hand up to hold the one gripping his shoulder. "Let's go, 'Samu.”

And so, the two lovers return the way they came, hand in hand, Dazai caressing Chuuya’s ring along his finger the whole way back home. Their home.

Chapter Text

After following up on a lead with a case, Dazai ventures on a detour instead of heading straight to the agency. He walks through Motomachi to the usual flower shop he visits to pick up a bouquet. In the past, he'd merely be able to buy one on occasion for the anniversary while flirting with the florists on-duty (proposing double suicide as they politely decline), but now that he has the support of Chuuya's funds, he intends to purchase one more often.

Bouquet in hand, he leaves the shop with nothing more than a warm smile to the florist and continues on his way. He doesn't drag his feet, but he's certainly in no rush to be where he's going. The sun isn't blazing hot, so his bandages aren't sticking to him as they normally are. It's a refreshing walk on a clear day. His feet plant themselves into a soft patch of grass when he becomes aware that he's arrived. Dazai takes a deep breath when he sees him.

"Sorry I haven't been around for a while. A lot has happened and I can't wait to tell you about it."

A gentle breeze brushes Dazai's hair out of his face as he squats by the grave. He lays the bouquet carefully onto the ground as if it were a newborn being placed back in the cradle. The area around the grave remains clean despite Dazai's long absence. He hasn't stopped by once in almost a year. It's the only trimming he never allowed to get out of hand. His whole dorm room would be cluttered, his appearance drab and unsightly, but this? He never forgot to upkeep. This would be pristine.

It seems like another person is bearing the responsibility for it and he can definitely ascertain who. Even if Dazai doesn't have it in his heart to forgive Ango, he finds a shred of thankfulness within himself. He musters a short sigh before he beams, gentle enough to pair with the sunlight streaming from the shadow of the nearby tree.

"I promise I didn't forget about you, Odasaku," Dazai murmurs as if he isn’t the only one at the cemetery. He shifts to take a seat against the marker like always to rest his legs. "It's just that marriage has a lot of complications. It's kept me busy trying to plan it out. Kunikida-kun doesn't like me using it as an excuse. He keeps piling work on me. Claims I still have to pay my dues."

It’s been a constant feud and headaches all around at home for a few weeks with his darling Chuuya. The closer it gets to their wedding day, the more panicked the redhead becomes. At first, Dazai had poked fun at him for allowing the frantic nerves to take over, but he has been humbled himself. His brain is addled by thoughts of Chuuya in front of him on the altar, gorgeously donned in a white suit and that unruly hair pulled back into a delicate braid with some curls still framing his face. He hasn’t prepared a vow yet because as long as he packs it in with sweet nothings and sentimental notions like every other vow, it’ll be good enough to whoever hears it.

But is it good enough for someone like Chuuya?

He puts his hand out, an obsidian band showing on his ring finger. "I'm pretty sure you can guess the lucky beauty I decided to marry. You never got to properly meet him, but I'll be sure to bring him sometime. He knows a lot about you at this point.”

Dazai sighs to himself, glancing at the light seeping through the leaves. The wind has stopped, but he chose to come here at this exact time, where the sun is blocked by the tree providing him and Oda some lovely shade as the air hovers in a cool sensation along Dazai’s skin. In the past, it was only a matter of being more comfortable, but now Dazai can appreciate the simplicity of this beautiful afternoon.

“I’ll give you a hint: We're going to get married in the French countryside.”

Totally Chuuya’s idea to get married in France. Nothing to do with Dazai whatsoever. A lot of the work to send invitations and make traveling arrangements for members of the agency and the mafia had been done by Chuuya, with the occasional remark or overview of Dazai.

The breeze comes back gently.

“That’s right. It’s the hatrack," Dazai says with a chuckle. "Thankfully, he won’t be wearing a hat. I’m trying to persuade him to wear the veil at least, since he keeps refusing to wear a dress."

What they have settled on is that both of them are going to be wearing white suits and Kouyou would be in charge of accompanying them to their separate fittings, much to Dazai’s dismay. She grates his nerves with her snappiness and overall coarse demeanor. He’s no model compared to Chuuya, who has gotten accustomed to her fussing over his appearance. Dazai continues ranting and raving for what seems like an hour about their small arguments, eventually reminiscing about the rough start of his rekindled relationship with Chuuya and how he took strides along with the redhead to better themselves so there's less of a chance to tear each other apart.

He feels his phone vibrate short and quick, signaling he just received either a text or alert. Aware he’s been here for a while now, Dazai believes it’s the former and fetches it from his pocket. A text from Kunikida asking if he’s almost done. The brunet exhales, long and tired before thumbing out his confirmed response. He had started to wind down in small talk, only speaking about scenarios that could never be, like telling Oda he would’ve enjoyed Chuuya’s food. He should be getting back.

Dazai stands up from where he had been rooted on the ground and turns to glance at the grave. “I’ll come back again. I know you probably don’t want me to keep bothering you, but you’ll always have to put up with me, even in the afterlife. Even when I’m happily married. I have you to thank the most, Odasaku.”

With that, he leaves the premises with a soft smile. The rustling of the leaves dies down when he’s back on the sidewalk, heading back to the agency.

“Four hours,” Kunikida says with a blank stare. He doesn’t even snap his head toward the barely repressed giggles from Naomi and Yosano.

Dazai closes the door and shrugs. “I was being very thorough with my investigation. I know how detailed you want me to be in my report, Kunikida-kun. Or am I wrong?”

It’s obvious from the tired gaze his partner is giving him that he doesn’t buy Dazai’s claim at all, but Kunikida doesn’t bother. “So long as you type it up and send it to me before you leave,” he grumbles before he goes back to his own work with a drawn-out sigh.

Dazai smiles with a nod. He would get it done in less than ten minutes, which would be nice considering Chuuya will leave work soon. It’s no longer too much of a spectacle to see Dazai agree to work, but naturally, he will be out for questionable lengths of time on occasion.

He cracks his fingers and lifts his arms out before getting to work, the keys tapping at a consistently fast pace.

“Of course you have what you need to report all formulated and memorized,” Kunikida grunts with a touch of envy bleeding into his voice.

“I don’t know what you mean, partner, “ the brunet replies, not slowing down at all. There’s no response, but Dazai can see Kunikida shake his head. After he finishes the last details to his report, his fingers retreat from the keyboard and he slumps into his chair, stretching. “Done.”

“Well, that’s all from you. I just need to look it over and then I’ll be out of here myself.”

Dazai shuts off his computer and stands up. “Have fun! I’m going back to see my lovely husband.”

“To-be husband,” he hears Kunkida say. “Give him my regards. I will see to it that all the agency members are able to attend, if it can ease his mind.”

Dazai chuckles. “You’re a lifesaver, Kunikida-kun. See you tomorrow.”

The brunet exchanges quick goodbyes with the remaining members still lingering about the office until he’s ready to head out the door. When he gets outside he finds Chuuya leaning against his parked car. He must have gotten out and headed straight here.

“Chibi, you were waiting for me like–”

“Say dog and I will leave you in the dust,” the redhead threatens, glaring at Dazai with his arms folded. He pushes himself away from the car until he’s close to the brunet, who leans in with a smile, giving Chuuya a quick peck on the forehead.

“I was going to say like the dutiful husband I expect you to be. But if you want to be a dog, that’s all you have to say.”

“I want to kill you,” Chuuya deadpans. His words aren’t genuine obviously, but Dazai stops himself from saying he wouldn’t mind if his death is by Chuuya. The redhead has expressed his blatant dislike for that sheer amount of devotion. Although Chuuya seems to be aware it will persist even if unspoken because he tenderly cups Dazai’s face with both of his hands and gazes at him as if nobody else is on the street. Like they aren’t a window away from the prying eyes of Dazai’s coworkers.

His mouth feels dry as ever when he looks into those blue eyes, an oasis encapsulated by such a fiery being. Dazai managed to land this and he actually wants to shed tears thinking about it sometimes. He pushes forward and slumps himself onto the redhead, earning a comedic squawk. His chin is perched on Chuuya’s shoulder as he blinks away the tears, feeling Chuuya’s hands slowly trailing up along the expanse of his back in order to comfort him.

“Osamu, I’m lucky to have you too.”

Dazai lets out a short laugh. Unbelievable. “How’d you figure that out?”

One of Chuuya’s hands reaches into his hair now and it’s one of his favorite touches. He closes his eyes. “You felt it too. How I felt kind of lost without you near me. I owe you for keeping me grounded.”

“You’ve already repaid that. I have so much I need to do for you, Chuuya.”

It’s Chuuya’s turn to laugh. “I only need you and for you to keep staying honest with me. You’re not planning on running away from me now that we’re close to the big day, are you?”

“Never.”

It’s true. Chuuya’s hand stops in his hair, stunned by the serious edge in the brunet’s voice. The redhead chuckles a bit breathlessly as he whispers, “Good.”

In Dazai’s mind, this is where they are exchanging their vows, here and now. They’ve been doing it before the altar and it clicks to him that he and Chuuya are only having this wedding to show everyone else they are indeed married. He pulls away with a bright grin. “I love you.”

“As do I, Mackerel,” Chuuya replies, matching his grin. “Now enough cuddling on the street. Let’s go home. I’m gonna make you your favorite for dinner.”

He seals the redhead’s lips with another kiss that speaks for him, all his gratitude, his desire, his affection, his trust. They don’t delay getting into the car anymore than that, eager to head home, in their own piece of the world. A piece Dazai believes makes him think it’s a beautiful day to be alive and there’s sure to be more of those days heading his way.