Chapter Text
Chuuya had just woken up with a hangover, he felt something soft underneath him. Although it is harder than his bed in the apartment.
Something was wrong. He knew he had drunk a little too much for his tolerance, but he still shouldn't feel like he had just died.
Slowly opening his eyes, he saw a dark musty street.
"Someone dropped me off here?" Chuuya thought, slightly irritated that someone dares to leave him, Nakahara Chuuya, a member of the port mafia, in that ugly dirty musty alley after he just got drunk in a bar!?
"No.... Decisively, this is not it, no one could dare to do it." he thought after a while.
Slowly getting up, he took a closer look at his surroundings. Some graphite... bottles.... container for garbage.... Bandages..... WAIT! BANDAGES!? What is it..... It was then that Chuuya noticed what exactly he was sitting on, and it was better to say on whom. NO WAIT, I change my mind, on WHAT NOT ON WHOM. Chuuya noticed that the person he was sitting on was unconscious, at least he thought so, because although it can be said in a normal person whether he is conscious, in this smelly mackerel it is impossible, because the bastard can control breath and heartbeat.
Being Chuuya, of course the first thing he would do is, get off this waste of bandages as soon as possible, and then quite seriously kick his ribs.
"AUUH!" Dazai was surprised by such an awakening, and as soon as the pain was recorded by him, he immediately began to rub the place with his hand, and his expression on his face gave Chuuy satisfaction.
The satisfaction, however, quickly left him , "Get up damn mackerel," he said with an audible irritation in his voice, already pulling Dazai up by his shirts.
"Chuuya, what a bad dog you are!" Dazai shouted dramatically, but he did not object and stood up to a standing position. Without even looking around where I was, he bypassed Chuuya. Chuuya gnashed his teeth in irritation, but followed Dazai, God knows where.
Leaving the street, it was a surprise for both of them that there were mutated people on the street. Leaving the street, it was a surprise for both of them that there were mutated people on the street. In addition, it was definitely too colorful for them. In addition, it was definitely too colorful for them. There were bright shop windows everywhere, people dressed brightly, there were lights on everywhere. There were bright shop windows everywhere, people dressed brightly, there were lights on everywhere.
Definitely not for them the climate.
Chuuya, being behind Dazai, saw that he was not wearing garniutur, and in the detail of his coat, he was dressed in some large black sweatshirt and tracksuits, for this there had to be sneakers.
"Dazai you don't wear—"
"I know Chibi" Dazai interrupted him, forcing Chuuya to take his mind off this for a moment. "How many times have I told you not to call me that!" exclaimed an appalled Chuuya.
"Yes, yes Slug" Dazai said, closing the conversation. Chuuya adapted and shoulder to shoulder walked through the bright streets. It was probably the longest record of not teasing each other, possibly by being in unfamiliar territory that neither of them knows anything about.
Walking in silence around the city, they both felt the presence as if someone was following them. Passing through one of the shop windows, Chuuya finally noticed that there were figurines, gadgets, comics, and even outfits. Everything there was looking like a superhero theme.
Chuuya looked at Dazai, asking for confirmation. Dazai slightly, almost imperceptibly, for a normlan person to see, bows his head, that was enough confirmation for Chuuuya, and thus making him confused in the head. After all, they should not be in a society of heroes, where they are criminals themselves!