Chapter Text
Once a year, when the summer meets winter and the leaves explode with color and crumble, they meet near an abandoned port they claimed for their own centuries ago.
The greeting is always similar enough. Dazai strolls over, hands in his trenchcoat and a smile alight from the sight of Chuuya and the scent of a salty sea. Then, like some casted lead to a soap opera Chuuya has found himself watching every so often, he drops down to the floor in a kneel.
Through half lidded eyes, Dazai looked up at him. Soft smile, dull eyes, light clothes; life incarnate despite the bandages wrapped around him in a vice.
Chuuya stared down at Dazai, face blank despite the slightest tilt of his head. Rigid lines, bright eyes, dark clothes; death incarnate despite the radiance flowing off him.
Dazai reached out and brought Chuuya's gloved and weapon-clutching hand to his cheek using a hand wrapped entirely in bandaged. Such a scene would be fine, had they not been them.
"Kill me, Chuuya."
It took a touch from either deity to do their jobs. Their skin was just barely covered - it should do job for now. Such a scene would be fine if it weren't them, but Dazai is Dazai and Chuuya is Chuuya so decency was never their forte.
"Get off the floor, dumbass," He replied.
Blood streamed down Dazai's cheek as the blade nicked his skin. If it hurt, the diety wouldn't say so. Chuuya knew that much of course. The bastard had always been stubborn. Had always seeked to shirk his duties since the beginning of time.
Still, Chuuya stayed rooted to his spot. The Deity of Life itself chuckled.
"Chuuya must love me so much if he still won't kill me after all of this time."
The Deity of Death scoffed and allowed the sickle to poke at Dazai just a milimeter more. Just enough for a sprinkling of blood to bleed onto his cheek and jaw, down to his neck and onto the bandages. He could grant Dazai the small pleasure of pain - immortals could only find themselves wounded by his weapons after all.
If they wanted death, they would have to pry off his gloves first.
Ignoring Dazai's incessant whining about the sting on his cheek, Chuuya said a dismissive, "Don't be ridiculous, I could kill you now."
He speaks the words but makes no move to do so. His hands itch, can almost feel the momentary struggle of flesh and soul before the soul eventually falls into his hands. Can smell the scent of iron, the decay of a corpse.
He wants to reach into the abyss of Dazai's chest, into the abyss just behind his eyes and steal the life he exudes. Wants to steal it and keep it to his chest for the rest of eternity.
Chuuya must not though, for the diety before him has no soul.
He must stay away on the other side of the Earth where Dazai can't beg and tempt him. Where the heavens slotted them to be, as they are not meant to be this close to each other.
Dazai ignores this threat and this fact - he always does. He goes to stand, keeping Chuuya's weapon filled hand in his grasp. As he ascends to his height and looks down at Chuuya, he lowers the hand down to just below his adam's apple.
Chuuya presses his lips into a thin line but does not resist. Dazai's hand is warm against his and it's sending tingles down his arm despite the barriers of cloth and fabric. A wrong move and this dance of theirs is over, or so they say.
"They say that life gravitates towards death," Dazai starts.
Chuuya rolls his eyes, "And death gravitates to life. No one says it but you, shitty Dazai."
There's a beaming smile and a delightful spark in Dazai's eyess. "Oh? So you're keeping track of what I say."
"Only you track me down each year to bore me with your sentimental death wishes."
Dazai puffs his cheeks out and huffs. "It's not fair! Humans get to die by your hands every day."
Humanity was blessed that Dazai had the wits of a demon to balance out his incessant childishness.
Chuuya hums and in Dazai's loose grip, traces out faint lines against his neck with the sickle. Just enough to graze and itch, but never to draw blood. Not there at least. The mackeral would without a doubt take the opportunity to slit his own throat right there.
Then again, it had been over a century since Dazai had attempted. At the very least, all it would take was wrapping him up in those bandages specifically crafted by Dazai himself to heal any wound in seconds.
"Those deaths you talk so fondly of are usually full of grief. Humans wish to live forever."
The brunette smiles fondly. "There would be no grief if you gave me such a blessing. To die by your hands..."
The diety of life swoons then and there, pressing the dagger to his neck just enough for Chuuya to feel the change of pressure in his fingers. His palms itch, so he pulls the dagger back enough to return it to its light and ghostly touch.
"Flattery isn't enough for me to kill you," He's smiling despite this.
There's such a starry look in his eyes that Chuuya nearly takes a step back. Before he can express his disgust, Dazai's sighs wistfully and obnoxiously, "Mortals don't understand what it means to watch a day become several centuries."
"And they never will as long as I'm around." Chuuya states firmly. "I would never condemn them to such suffering."
"Because chibi is so kind! A softie for mortals and immortals alike!"
Gently, Dazai takes a step forward and takes Chuuya's wrist to pull him forward. They nearly collide right there if it weren't for Chuuya steadying himself by grasping Dazai's arm firmly.
Dazai's hair falls around his face as he tilts his head to meet Chuuya's startled gaze. "Won't you show me such kindness too, Chuuya?"
Acting as if this is entirely normal, as if they are allowed to be close enough to feel each other's godly presence, Dazai puts his palm where Chuuya's heart is.
Even Chuuya can feel the rhythmic thud now. "Your desire for life is unbearable. I can see how badly you want to take it from me."
Chuua grips his sickle and Dazai's arm tightly. In their jostling, he managed to nick the diety's neck. Enough for more blood to pour down. He grips both tighter and plants his feet into the Earth, though he can't tear his eyes away from the wound. Can't lever his eyes away from the blood trickling down from near his pulse point. Can't stop imagining how a good aim slashed would make his dreams come true, or so they say.
"Take it, chibi, you can have it."
He shouldn't, for the diety before him has no soul.
The Diety of Death manages to tear his eyes from the blood to Dazai's gaze. "As if you would give anything way so freely, mackeral."
For a fish wannabe, the warmth Dazai carries is enough to thaw the frozen feeling stuck in his chest.
Dazai is tracing the pulse point on his wrist through his sleeve. "I want to set us both free of our miserable lives."
Chuuya takes in a deep breath. This is the closest anyone has ever been around him. A wrong touch can kill anyone. Dazai's fingers against his heart and his pulse, a testament that he breathes and functions, but both dieties know that he does not live.
After all, Chuuya does not have a soul.
A wrong touch could kill Dazai instantly, but he is relaxed for one simple reason. "You want to die so badly but never make a move to touch my skin."
A strange expression crosses Dazai's face. A cross between calculated, grief and wonder. It throws Chuuya for a loop, but it's gone faster than a human's lifetime.
Dazai weazles his way even closer now. They end up in something of a hug now, with Chuuya's head rested against a clothed chest and Dazai's arms bandaged wrapped arms around him, taking great care not to linger to close to his face. Chuuya's sickle is still up to Dazai's neck, so he lowers his hand till they're resting at his sides.
They don't have too much time now, but Dazai never sounds rushed. They'll meet again, they always do.
"Because Chuuya would obviously miss me terribly!"
Because once Dazai dies, Chuuya would live as a mortal. A mortal but with the only companion he's ever had dead and erased for existence, for the diety before him has no soul.
Chuuya sighs against him, frustrated. He drops his sickle and wraps his arms tightly around Dazai's waist. He thinks his next words over carefully, knowing the bastard would tease him for a century to come depending on what he said.
"I'd never miss someone as slimy as you."
He gives Dazai's waist a squeeze and the diety returns it with one of his own, pushing him further into the embrace. They can feel the power radiating off of each other now. They both itch to take it, so their embrace becomes crushing on both ends.
A cosmic disaster only being prevented by both of them having wrapped themselves from neck to toe in clothes in preparation of this.
After all, life and death could never coexist together, or so they say. They'd done this many times by now. Life longed for death and death longed for life. Chuuys's hands itched to take the life hidden just beneath the deity's skin. Dazai itched for a death only Chuuya's hands could provide.
"Chuuya!" Kouyou calls out.
"Dazai!" Kunikida calls out.
So the heavens have found them already.
Chuuya groans and shakes his head. "Boss is going to kill me."
Dazai laughs in that way that makes Chuuya want to punch him despite the smile on his face. So he does, right in the ribs.
Dazai grunts and unwinds himself from the diety. He picks up Chuuya's sickle off the floor and tosses it to the other.
"Mori-san will only give you some overtime. It's Kunikida-kun I have to worry about."
"Dazai! Have you any idea how off schedule you are? It was not in today's schedule-"
"Chuuya!" Kouyou calls out, "Boss told you not to spend too long out. You have a lot of jobs today!"
Stifling his irritation, Chuuya looks at Dazai. It'll be a year before they meet again.
"Make sure to wrap up those wounds before they scar."
Dazai rests his hand against his chest with a dramatically proclaimed, "But how else will I remember you goodbye?"
"If you don't, I'll kick your sorry ass, you suicidal waste of bandages!"
"How will you do that when you're too short to look me in my eye?"
Kouyou and Kunikida have to drag the two dieties away from each other as the two quickly descend into a screaming match. Kunikida and Kouyou share a glance of condolence - they get stuck with this duty every year.
And they'll likely do so again, for the Diety of Life and the Diety of death can't seem to exist without the other, or so Dazai says.