Work Text:
The sound of rain hitting plastic fills the air as footsteps thud on wet pavement. A few strands of lightning light up the sky while thunder rumbles in the distance.
Chuuya had just recently finished work, deciding to walk home instead of having a grunt drive him. He had originally taken his motorcycle that morning, but now that it was raining, he didn’t want to get it—and himself—wet. So, a risk had been taken when Chuuya grabbed the umbrella he left in his office and ventured out into the spring storm.
Really, Chuuya can’t complain. Walking home in a thunderstorm was a nice change to his routine, one he needed every once in a while.
Watching the streetlights flicker in the puddles littering the sidewalk, Chuuya lets his mind wander. The last few weeks had been particularly tough, especially since he had to wipe out multiple brave—but quite frankly, foolish—gangs trying to take over Port Mafia territory. Chuuya would have been done with work sooner, but on top of all that, he had to complete a mountain of paperwork. In the end, to say he is exhausted would be an understatement.
What also didn’t help was the fact that Dazai had been working on a difficult case during those weeks as well. It had been so difficult, in fact, that Dazai had been willingly working, even to the point that he didn’t get home till late at night. Because of that, it meant that Chuuya couldn’t relax with him in the evenings like they usually did, leaving him to nurse a bottle of wine alone before heading to bed.
Chuuya continues to listen to the sound of rain hitting his umbrella as he lets some of the pent-up stress leave his body. It was almost as if, with every exhale he took, all the stress he had been harboring joined and flowed away with the downpour. That all the tension in his shoulders disappeared with every clap of thunder and white-hot lightning strike.
As Chuuya watches the bright headlights of a car pass, it suddenly occurs to him that he can hear what sounds like faint crying. He elects to ignore it at first, claiming it wasn’t any of his business, but some instinct tells him to go search for the origin. So, he does.
It was a little hard at first, mainly due to the thunder rolling across the night sky, but Chuuya manages to pinpoint where the crying was coming from. Stopping in front of a dark alleyway, Chuuya hears sniffling and a couple of sobs coming from within. He lets his eyes adjust to the darkness first before venturing in, his shoes clicking on the concrete sidewalk and splashing through half-formed puddles.
When Chuuya finally does find the owner of the crying, he is met with a particularly gruesome sight. There, sitting on the alleyway floor, was a little girl slightly covered in blood, her tiny hand clutching a hand belonging to that of a corpse. The body wasn’t in decent condition, its limbs littered with stab wounds and dried blood. Its torso also seemed to be cut open, the skin around the wound shredded and bloody.
By the looks of it, there was no doubt in Chuuya’s mind that the action had been done in front of the girl.
Chuuya swallows the heavy, grief-filled sigh threatening to spill out as he takes slow and measured steps toward the girl. She had stopped crying when Chuuya first emerged, but now gut-wrenching fear filled her eyes. The redhead can see every muscle in her body tense as he keeps getting closer and closer. It isn’t until he’s squatting down in front of her, umbrella shielding her from the rain, that she lets herself somewhat relax.
Now that Chuuya is closer to her, he can see the jet black hair adorning her head and the pair of gray eyes looking at him. She was a thin little thing—probably no older than five—with a raggy shirt barely clinging onto her narrow shoulders. A layer of blood covered her, hiding away the layer of grim that was slowly washing away in the rain. A peel of thunder roars across the sky, lightning illuminating the tiny figure seated on the ground. A shiver runs through the girl’s body, the action making her curl into herself for a little warmth.
Being closer to the girl also means Chuuya is closer to the corpse. He keeps an eye on the girl as he inspects the body, looking for any identification as to who she is and her relation to the girl. Underneath all the blood, he could see it was that of a woman, and a gorgeous one at that. She had the same jet black hair as the girl—though it was far longer—and a beauty mark under her left eye. It’s while Chuuya is studying her that it clicks in his mind.
This lifeless corpse that the girl is holding onto is her mother.
A harsh breath catches in Chuuya’s throat as he turns his gaze back to the girl. Her small frame is shaking more violently now, the cold starting to settle deep into her bones. Immediately, conflicting thoughts begin passing through Chuuya’s mind on what to do.
One option is to leave her here alone. Let her fight and survive on her own in this dangerous world, but a sense of guilt forms in Chuuya’s gut at the thought. The other option he could… no. No, Dazai probably wouldn’t like that idea. They had only just started to get comfortable with their new relationship, and Chuuya knew he couldn’t just randomly bring a kid into their lives. Hell, they haven’t even discussed if they wanted kids, let alone adopting one. What if Dazai didn’t want to have kids? What if he didn’t even like them? No, no, he can’t risk it.
And yet, staring into those foggy gray eyes… the thought of letting this girl fight for herself, along with his own memories of being on the streets, puts a feeling of guilt into Chuuya.
Debate upon debate makes itself known in Chuuya’s mind as he ponders on what to do. It isn’t until a decision—one that, really, is not well-thought-out—is made that he lets out a sigh. The decision? He’s going to adopt her, and he isn’t going to go down without a fight (he just secretly hopes that, upon seeing her, Dazai will agree). With the argument now settled in his mind, Chuuya prepares to face the many hurdles he has to overcome. The first—and most obvious—is trying to convince the little girl to come with him.
Clearing away the sudden lump of anxiety in his throat, Chuuya says in the softest voice he can muster, “hey there, little one. My name’s Chuuya.”
Instantly, the girl’s eyes widen. Apparently, she hadn’t been expecting a complete stranger to talk to her or even address her. Tilting her head just a bit, she starts to study Chuuya as he continues to look at her. And here’s where the issue begins: Chuuya has no idea what to say to her. What, “oh, your mom is dead, so I, a total stranger, am going to take you with me.” Yeah, no. Chuuya has no doubt in his mind that that would not go over well. (It was times such as these that he wishes he had a fraction of Dazai’s ability of smooth-talking people).
Chuuya lets out a sigh as he racks his brain for an appropriate answer till a semi-decent one pops up. Taking the plunge, he first runs his hand through his hair before speaking. “Hey, little one. Do you…” god, how was he supposed to do this? “Do you know what happened?”
Unsurprisingly, tears instantly start to well up in her eyes. Internally, a wave of panic and regret take over as a chorus of “shit shit shit” and “nonononono” rings in his skull. Outwardly, he schools his face into calmness as he tries his hardest to calm her down with soothing words and reassurances. Once the tears start to subside, the quietest breath of relief escapes Chuuya. Not for the last time does he thank the skills he acquired during his time in the Sheep and helping Dazai during his panic attacks.
Seeing that she had calmed down enough, the redhead decides to tackle this another way. “What’s your name?” he asks. When she gives no response, Chuuya asks again. Yet again, she remains silent.
Maybe she can’t talk? It was a possibility—he knows some people can’t speak when in shock—so, to be sure, he asks her. This time, she gives a shake of her head, her wet hair slightly whipping with the motion. That… complicated things, but Chuuya can work around it. After all, with his line of work, he’s met all sorts of people with different speaking abilities.
Now opting to only ask yes or no questions, he says, “I… know you know what happened, but I need to ask if you know that it isn’t safe to be alone.”
She hesitates, but eventually, she gives a reluctant, sad nod.
It’s just as a precaution when he repeats himself, “so you know you shouldn’t be alone?”
Another nod.
Now here came the hard part: asking her to go with him. Chuuya knows there’s a good possibility she’s going to be scared of strangers for a while—who wouldn’t be after witnessing what she did—but he has to at least try. He could never forgive himself if he doesn’t.
It was time to jump the hurdle.
Making sure that the umbrella was properly covering them both, Chuuya opens his mouth and gently says, “I know that I’m a stranger and that you probably don’t trust me, but I know some people that can help me help you. They know how to take really, really good care of you. So, would you like to come with me and meet them?”
The following silence was deafening to Chuuya’s ears; even the thunder overhead could not be heard. To Chuuya, this felt like the most anxious thing he has ever experienced in his life. Not when he was the King of the Sheep, not when he was constantly saving Dazai’s ass from dying, not even when he used Corruption. Just now, asking this sweet little girl to come with him.
Chuuya doesn’t dare blink in fear of missing her answer.
When that precious head of hers full of black locks nods a minute later, Chuuya thinks he could cry. He lets a shaky breath pass between his lips before giving her a small, sincere smile. The only emotion Chuuya could describe going through him at that moment was relief. Pure and utter relief.
Chuuya wouldn’t have to leave her to fight on her own. He wouldn’t have that on his conscious. Instead, he could now protect her for as long as she wanted, as long as she needed.
With the decision in place, Chuuya moves to stand up, only to have the little girl suddenly spring forward and wrap her arms around his neck. He’s slightly caught off guard—wrapping his arms around her to steady her—but he does admit it feels… nice. It’s nice to feel those small, shaky arms cling to him like he is her lifeline. And maybe he is.
God, does he suddenly miss the feeling of having a kid’s arms wrapped around him, wanting some form of comfort that only he can provide.
After she answers Chuuya’s question about wanting to be carried, he slowly stands up, ensuring he doesn’t jostle her in the process. Now that she is in his arms, Chuuya can feel how skinny she is. At first glance, he had thought that the girl and her mom weren’t homeless, but now, with this small weight in his arms, that doesn’t seem to be the case. (At the revelation, something pangs deep in Chuuya’s chest).
Adjusting the umbrella so he was holding it with the same arm supporting her, Chuuya makes his way out of the alley. He fishes for the phone in his pocket, telling the girl he’s going to call someone before finding the contact he needs. Clicking on the call button under “Mackerel <3”, Chuuya puts the phone to his ear and listens to it ring. It’s on the second time he calls that a click echoes down the line.
“Hey, chibi~! What’s up?”
“I need you to do something for me.”
At the urgency in Chuuya’s voice, Dazai, in turn, drops the teasing tone he had donned. “What happened?”
“It’s nothing serious– well, okay, it’s a tiny bit serious, but I need your help.”
“Sure, I can help. What do you need me to do?”
“I need a shi– a lot of warm blankets, towels, a change of clothes, and a drink along with a bowl of warm food.”
The line is silent for a few seconds before Dazai answers. “Chuuya, what did you do? Wait– did you pick up another stray demon spawn?!”
“What– no! Just… get everything I asked for, okay? I’ll explain everything once I get to the Agency.”
A sigh from Dazai, one full of unspoken questions. “...alright. See you in a few, then.” With that, the line goes dead.
Chuuya slips the phone back into his pocket, adjusting the girl on his hip afterward. With the night sky bringing cold temperatures, he picks up the pace, not wanting the child in his arms to get sick.
A few more blocks later has Chuuya standing in front of the Armed Detective Agency’s building. He can see a couple of lights shining through the windows on their floor, indicating that someone is still there. Entering the building, Chuuya closes his umbrella and takes the stairs one at a time instead of his usual two.
Once he’s in front of their office door, he stops and takes a few deep breaths to calm the sudden nerves shooting up his spine. Opening it, they are immediately hit with the warmth permeating the office. Chuuya sighs in relief as he enters and sets the umbrella in the umbrella holder next to the door. After closing the door and walking further in, a familiar timbre of footsteps reaches Chuuya’s ears. Turning, Chuuya is greeted with the sight of Dazai walking out of the office’s hallway, his eyes blown wide with a towel draped over his arm.
Quickly, a mask of indifference is pulled over Dazai’s face as he approaches them. Without waiting for an explanation, he unfolds the towel and holds his arms out. At the movement, the girl curls herself further into Chuuya, gripping his vest with tiny, shaking fists. Seeing this, Dazai lowers his arms and takes a small step back to give her some space.
Crouching down, Chuuya sets her safely on the ground and motions for the towel. Dazai silently hands it to him, a barely concealed look of curiosity in his eyes. A warm and comforting smile curls at Chuuya’s mouth as he reassures the little girl. “Hey, sweetheart, it’s alright. All I’m going to do is dry you off, okay?”
A tentative nod was her reply. Chuuya takes a portion of the towel and begins to gently towel her hair. While he does this, the redhead continues to speak to her. “You see the man next to me? His name is Dazai. He’s one of the people who’s gonna help me take care of you. He’s also a really good friend of mine,” Chuuya says in a low voice, passing her a wink.
Some type of understanding dawns in her eyes as she looks at Dazai. Dazai, noticing the attention, gives her a wave. “Hey, there,” he says in almost a whisper, “what’s your name?”
Chuuya is the one to answer. “I don’t think she has one. She didn’t give any indication of one when I asked her. She also can’t talk, though I don’t know if it’s because of shock or because she’s mute, so we’ll have to find out.”
“...Ah.”
An awkward silence starts to fill the office as Chuuya begins to towel the girl’s arms. Thankfully, not one to be quiet for long, Dazai decides to break it. “I’m going to grab everything else you asked for. The shirt and pants are definitely going to be big on her.”
“That’s fine. Better than these soaked clothes.”
As Dazai leaves to get everything, Chuuya finishes toweling her off. The blood and grime had thankfully washed off in the rain, and whatever was left had gotten gently scrubbed off with the towel. Satisfied that she is dry, he folds the towel over his arm before taking the girl’s hand. He leads her over to the Agency’s sofas, picking her up and placing her down on one of them. Seconds later has Dazai returning with a blanket and clothes in his arms, food tray precariously balanced in his hands. Putting the tray on the table, Dazai hands the shirt and pants to Chuuya as he opens the blanket.
Pointing to her shirt, Chuuya says, “I’m going to change your shirt, okay?” Once he gets her nod, he raises her arms and carefully peels the wet, ratty shirt off. He then rubs the towel in circles to dry her torso off, pulling the new shirt over her head after and helping her with the armholes when she gets stuck. With the shirt finally in place, it engulfs her—the collar hanging off her shoulders and the hem resting at her calves. Instead of being annoyed by this, the girl's eyes widen immensely. Cautiously, she takes her hands and runs them over the fabric, an expression of pure shock appearing.
Chuuya has to hold back a chuckle at the sight. “You like it?” A smile comes up as she nods, entirely enamored by the shirt, “that’s good.” He then proceeds to do the same with the pants, again helping her where she needs it. In the end, the cuffs have to be rolled multiple times till her feet become visible.
With that done, Chuuya gestures over his shoulder at Dazai and says, “hey, Dazai here is going to wrap a blanket around you, and then we’re going to give you something to eat, alright?”
After she nods, Dazai opens the blanket with a flourish and carefully wraps the blanket over her thin shoulders, stepping back afterward. Grabbing the warm bowl of food, Chuuya is about to spoon some out when he notices something. Slightly furrowing his eyebrows, he glances over his shoulder at Dazai and sees the clearly faux innocence painted across his face.
“Dazai…” Chuuya starts lowly, irritation lacing his words.
“Yes?”
“Did you not eat your lunch?”
One too many doe-eyed blinks. “Whatever do you mean, Chuuya?”
“You know exactly what I mean, Dazai,” Chuuya growls, hand tightening minutely around the bowl.
An exaggerated sigh paired with an equally exaggerated shrug of the shoulders. “No, I didn’t eat my lunch. But on the bright side, if I hadn’t, then we wouldn’t have a warm bowl of miso soup for the little one!”
At that, Chuuya rolls his eyes in annoyance, accepting the fact that he can’t exactly disagree with him.
Scooping out some soup, Chuuya blows on it before feeding the girl. He knows she could probably feed herself, but with the way her body was shaking, Chuuya predicted there would be more food on the blanket than in her stomach. Once both the food and drink are gone, a content smile plays tugs at her lips. Laying down, she burrows deeper in the blankets, sleepy eyes blinking up at the two men. With Chuuya’s confirmation of “don’t worry, you’re safe. You can sleep” she succumbs to the warmth in and around her.
When her tiny, deep breaths fill the air, Chuuya stands up and drags Dazai a little ways away, intending to talk to him. Silence, though, is the only thing that comes. As Chuuya rakes a rain-soaked glove through his hair, his fingers snag on some knots. With an annoyed huff, he untangles them, slowly dragging his fingers through his hair to make it more smooth. It’s clear he is stalling—he knows, Dazai knows—but he really doesn’t want to bring this conversation up. He really doesn’t want to explain his actions, even though he knows, to some degree, that Dazai would understand the intention behind them. In the end, however, Chuuya gives in.
“I was on my way home when I heard some crying coming from an alley. I was planning on ignoring it, but… I don’t know, something in me told me I needed to investigate. So, I did. And I found her sitting there, crying, hand holding her… dead mother’s.” A haunted, distant, grief-stricken look makes its home in Chuuya’s eyes—one that he is, sadly, familiar with.
Even though Chuuya has seen—and exacted—plenty of gruesome deaths while a part of the mafia, he’s never liked the idea of a child seeing something like that. They were small and innocent, and something that terrifying would haunt them for the rest of their life. And for some reason, when it came to this little girl, Chuuya disliked it even more. She reminded Chuuya so much of himself when he first emerged from the lab that it made him want to protect her. It made him want to give her everything he had to fight for himself. He wanted to give her a warm place when it was cold outside; he wanted to give her a place she could call home; he wanted to give her love.
The only thing that could be seen in Dazai’s expression was neutrality.
A lump Chuuya didn’t know he had makes itself known as he uncertainly chokes out Dazai’s name. Eyes flick between Dazai’s russet brown as he waits for the brunette to speak. Somehow, without him realizing it, his bottom lip gets caught between his teeth.
“You want to adopt her, don’t you?” Dazai answers after a bit, blunt words scarily accurate as always.
Chuuya audibly swallows that lump as he steels himself, eyes narrowing in defense. Here it comes. “Yeah. Yeah, I do. Even if you don’t like it, even if you don’t want to, I’m adopting her. I will not allow her to go back onto the streets or into one of those fucked up orphanages… I can’t.”
A hum was the only response Dazai gives before falling quiet once more. Immediately, the nerves from earlier come back, settling even deeper into his bones. A silent Dazai was a thinking Dazai. And a thinking Dazai was most often than not a dangerous Dazai.
Not wanting to look away from the brunette, Chuuya watches as Dazai turns his head to study the girl sleeping on the couch. An indecipherable emotion seems to faintly appear in Dazai’s eyes. If he hadn’t been looking as intently as he is, Chuuya would have missed the slight upward curve of the other man’s lips.
Walking over to the couch, Dazai brushes a few strands of hair away from the girl’s face before gently adjusting the blanket around her. Then, to Chuuya’s complete astonishment, he kisses her forehead.
“Dazai…?” This time the call of his name comes out disbelieving.
A quiet chuckle is what fills the air in response. “My chibi’s stubborn,” Dazai says, like it's a fact of life, of nature, “and I know he isn’t going to go down without a fight. Besides, she’s kinda cute.”
“Wait- wait a minute. Hold up,” Chuuya says in disbelief, raising a hand in the air as his eyes widen in surprise. “You… you mean you’re okay with adopting her?”
The smile that’s adorning Dazai’s face becomes more prominent. “Of course, Chuuya! Why wouldn’t I be?”
“It’s just… we’ve never talked about having kids—I don’t even know if you like kids—and it’s a huge step–”
“So?” Dazai interrupts. He stands up and stops in front of Chuuya, that damn smile still adorning his lips. “We always used to take care of Odasaku’s kids whenever we could. The only difference now is that the kid would be ours.”
Chuuya pauses at this, pursing his lips in apprehension. Dazai isn’t exactly wrong, he and Chuuya would regularly babysit Oda’s kids. It’s just— “Are you sure? You don’t… you don’t have any problems with it?”
“No, no problems at all,” Dazai responds, eyes as warm and honest as they can be with him.
The hesitation must still be visible as Dazai opens his arms in a silent beckon, one that Chuuya answers. Comforting arms immediately wrap around him, surrounding him in a familiar warmth, in a familiar love and trust. Chuuya lets out a sigh as he nestles closer to Dazai’s chest, earning him a quiet chuckle.
This peaceful bubble doesn’t last long as a mischievous tone soon pops it. “Say, chibi, I guess this means we have to buy her things using your credit card, though, let’s not buy her tacky clothes like yours, hmm~?”
“Tch. Bastard,” Chuuya says with too much fondness, lightly smacking the brunette’s back. “At least my fashion sense is better than your bandaged ass.”
“Chuuya!” Dazai gasps dramatically, keeping his voice down to not wake the slumbering girl, “you can’t be using such foul language in front of the child! We can’t be corrupting her so soon!”
“Ha!? Corrupting her!? Please, with your bat-shit antics and personality, it’s safe to say you’d be the one corrupting her, mackerel!”
“Ah, Chuuya’s so mean~,” Dazai playfully whines, resting his cheek atop fiery curls.
The two of them grow quiet after that as they hold each other, the rain and thunder outside being the only sound in that space. At some point, Dazai starts to rock them back and forth, humming a random tune under his breath. A warm feeling starts to flow through Chuuya as he smiles into the taller man’s chest. He was so inexplicably happy that Dazai was okay with adopting the little girl, that it surprised even himself. He thought for sure the other man wouldn’t want to adopt her, much less due to a spontaneous decision. Chuuya knew that life was going to be different from now on, but knowing that he could provide her a home and future with Dazai made it worthwhile. He never had a family that he could remember before the Sheep—and from what he knows of Dazai’s own, they weren’t the greatest—so starting their own family was a dream come true.
A dream that Chuuya thought he’d never get to experience.
Adjusting his head so he could see the girl, a realization strikes Chuuya. “Hey, Dazai, we kinda need to give her a name, don’t we?”
Dazai stops his rocking motions as he, too, looks at her. “...you’re right. We kind of have to do that.”
“You wanna come up with names and ask her in the morning?” Chuuya suggests.
“Yeah, that sounds like a good idea.”
For the next couple of hours, Chuuya and Dazai cuddle on the other couch as they brainstorm potential names. A warm blanket Dazai had grabbed is wrapped around them, shielding them from the cold creeping into the office. It isn’t until late at night do the two of them fall asleep; Chuuya on top of Dazai, Dazai with his arms wrapped securely around the redhead’s waist.
The sound of rain and thunder follows them in their dreams.
—||||—
“Well, I’m grateful to say she isn’t showing any signs of pneumonia,” Yosano declares as she gets up off the floor.
When Dazai had woken up that morning, he had called Yosano and explained the situation. Without question she came to the Agency, her usual sadistic and terrifying smirk replaced with a tender and loving smile. Yosano had patiently and gently talked to the girl as she checked her, explaining what she was doing as to not scare her. It had come as quite the surprise to both men that Yosano could be so uncharacteristically sweet that it had made Dazai do a double-take.
Chuuya lets out a breath of relief he didn’t know he was holding. “That’s good. What about shock?”
“She doesn’t seem to be showing any signs of it, thankfully. My best guess is she slept it off. All I can recommend now is a few warm meals, blankets, and clothes that actually fit just to be safe,” Yosano says, brushing off her skirt.
“Good thing we were planning on using Chuuya’s credit card then!” Dazai chirps, sending a wink to the girl, who shyly nods in return.
A playful roll of the eyes from Yosano. “If he buys any ridiculous outfits, slap him for me.”
“Oh, don’t worry, I will.”
“Good.” With that, Yosano goes to her infirmary, the door closing shut behind her with a click.
Once she is out of sight, Dazai dramatically puts a hand to his heart and exclaims, “both of you are so mean! I would never dream of doing such a thing!”
“Uh-huh, keep telling yourself that, mackerel.”
“Oh! Why must you bully me so!” Dazai pouts.
A breath of laughter escapes Chuuya. Shaking his head, he makes his way over to the girl and crouches down in front of her. Smiling, he asks, “are you doing okay?”
She nods in response, wrapping the blanket that’s still around her closer. The smile she wears grows bigger as she nuzzles into the soft fabric surrounding her.
“Good,” Chuuya says. “Say, me and Dazai want to talk to you about something, is that alright?”
This time she tilts her head in confusion, but nevertheless, she nods in agreement (at this point, with her nonverbal communication, Chuuya’s pretty sure she’s either shy or mute—neither of which he has a problem with).
Getting up and sitting on the other side of her, Chuuya waits till Dazai is sitting on the other office couch to start. “Well, I know that this might be a bit abrupt—who am I kidding, it is abrupt—but… last night, me and Dazai talked about adopting you,” Chuuya says quietly, eyes nervously studying her reaction.
At Chuuya’s statement, her eyes grow wide in shock. A little bewildered, her gaze starts to flick back-and-forth between Chuuya and Dazai. Eventually, she points at herself, tilting her head in a silent question.
Dazai is the one to answer her. “Yup! Me and the slug decided that we want to make you our adopted daughter! Out of the blue, I know, but you’re just so cute we couldn’t resist.”
It takes a few seconds, but the moment the words register, tears begin rapidly falling down her face. Without a second thought, Chuuya immediately opens his arms in invitation, one she gladly accepts. She buries her head in Chuuya’s chest, arms thrown around his neck as her tears soak his shirt. Chuuya, in response, brings his arms up and wraps them around her; one hand splayed across her back, the other softly petting her hair. Quiet affirmations follow suit, naturally flowing from his lips.
In all honesty, Chuuya had expected a reaction like this. Despite her young age, he had a feeling she was bright, and she clearly understood the situation. What circumstances led to this, he doesn’t know, and, quite frankly, he doesn’t want to find out.
Her cries now dying into sniffles, she takes her head off of Chuuya’s chest and gives him a watery smile. Smiling in return, he wipes away the remaining tears with his thumb, surprised when she slowly leans into his hand.
The sound of a fond chuckle is what breaks Chuuya out of the moment. Looking over at Dazai, he sees the man in the final act of putting something in his pocket. It doesn’t take long for Chuuya to connect the dots, and when he does, a smug grin appears on his face.
“Oi, Dazai. Why’da take a picture?” Chuuya asks, narrowing his eyes in a playful act of suspicion.
“Well, Chuuya, clearly, your tiny brain didn’t think of the fact that we should start capturing moments like these with our daughter. So I, the genius that I am, have taken up the liberty of doing so myself!” Dazai replies, shooting Chuuya a mischievous grin.
Blinking, Chuuya fights the unexpected blush creeping up his neck at what Dazai just announced. It was one thing for Dazai to say they should start taking pictures; it was another for him—a man who never really cared about capturing the moments in life, much less reliving them—to decide to do it. Clicking his tongue, Chuuya looks away from the brunette’s gaze. “Didn’t know you could be such a sap, mackerel.”
“Neither did I~!”
Chuuya shakes his head in fond exasperation, turning his attention back to the girl. He proceeds to wrap an arm around her shoulders, tucking her securely into his side. She instantaneously melts into the action, snuggling close while simultaneously putting her head underneath Chuuya’s chin. Giving her shoulders a light squeeze, Chuuya brings up the other topic he and Dazai wanted to discuss. “Since we have that out of the way, Dazai and I have another thing we wanted to talk to you about.”
Raising an eyebrow, she looks between the two, silently wondering what the topic is. Seeing that both men were waiting for her confirmation in order to begin, she gives them a nod.
Chuuya is the first to speak. “I know yesterday you indicated that you have no name, so we wanted to give you a few options to choose from.”
This causes her eyes to widen once more. Obviously intrigued, she sits up straighter, eagerly nodding at the proposal. Chuuya lets out a chuckle at her enthusiasm.
“We have a few options to go through,” says Dazai, clapping his hands, “so how about we start with the name Keiko. Do you like it?” It’s a few seconds of pondering, but ultimately, she shakes her head.
“What about Kimiko?” A head shake.
“Kohana?” Another one.
“Mako?” The little girl sits there for a bit but still gives another shake.
“Nari?” A hard no.
“Hmm~? What about Sonoko? That has a nice ring to it!” Dazai suggests.
All three of them sit there with bated breath until the little girl—Sonoko—nods her head. Immediately, delighted smiles are directed at her.
“Glad you like it, kiddo,” Chuuya says, giving her another light squeeze.
“Of course Sonoko would like it, chibi! I was the one who thought of it first, after all!” Dazai declares. He playfully crosses his arms, a pout pulling at his lips to cover the grin threatening to break through.
A roll of Chuuya’s eyes, “whatever you say, mackerel.”
They grow quiet after that, enjoying the peaceful tranquility in the atmosphere. The only sounds heard in the Agency were their soft breaths, the A.C., and occasional honks from outside.
Snuggling even closer to Chuuya, Sonoko takes his hand, her shoulders shaking in silent giggles as his gloved hand engulfs her pale ones. A smile overtakes Chuuya’s face as he watches her take his fingers and play with them. Even though he is used to little kids, it still baffles him how tiny their hands are compared to his.
Minutes later, Dazai suddenly plops down on the couch next to Chuuya. Startled, Chuuya looks over to see a laptop settled in Dazai’s lap. Curious, Chuuya watches as Dazai opens it up, searches for a clothing website, and then places the device in his lap so all three could see the screen. “Hey, Sonoko,” the brunette says, “you wanna help us buy some clothes for you?”
The delighted nod was answer enough.
—||||—
It’s a month later of governmental negotiations—more like threatening—that Dazai and Chuuya are finally able to bring Sonoko home. During those months, Sonoko had been living with Yosano as Dazai dealt with the government and Chuuya got her room ready in the penthouse. When the girl had gotten the news, she had proceeded to twirl around in circles before excitedly grabbing their hands. The biggest smile either man had seen was on Sonoko’s face as she practically dragged them the entire way to the penthouse.
Once they were in front of the penthouse door, Chuuya disables the security locks before opening it. As they step through into the genkan, Dazai and Chuuya watch as Sonoko’s eyes grow impossibly wide as she takes in her new surroundings. It isn’t until they take their shoes off does she give them a slightly hesitant look. Chuuya is the one who nods, giving her the permission she needs to wander off and explore her new home. An amused huff leaves Dazai as they watch her immediately take off, glee written on her face as she disappears around a corner.
Going into the kitchen, Chuuya busies himself by getting a glass of water. Out of the corner of his eye, he sees Dazai sit at the island counter and glance around the place, one eyebrow raised in confusion. Confused himself, he turns to Dazai and asks, “what’s wrong?”
“Where’s the spawn of satan?”
A scowl of irritation settles over Chuuya. “Albey is at Tachihara’s. I didn’t want to overwhelm Sonoko with a new home and a hyperactive dog.”
Dazai lets out a hum of acknowledgment at that, propping his chin in his hand. “Makes sense. That dog is too hyperactive for its own good… kinda like Chuuya,” he tacks on at the end, grinning suggestively.
Chuuya levels a glare at the brunette, growling. “Watch yourself, Dazai. Sonoko doesn’t need to see your bruised up face her first night here.” A mutter of agreement is given as Dazai throws his hands up in mock surrender.
With that settled, Chuuya joins Dazai at the island, listening to the soft footsteps of Sonoko as she explores the second floor. Whenever a door squeaks, they can hear her feet do a little dance before running into whatever room she found. Equally amused smiles appear on the men’s faces as they softly chuckle at her antics.
As they listen to Sonoko, though, a sudden revelation hits them. Neither of them had realized until then just how much a little kid brought them so much joy. They had enjoyed watching her experience new things with the Agency. They had enjoyed watching Sonoko’s eyes light up as she looked at her new clothes when they arrived. They enjoyed listening to her run around her new home. They enjoyed this new and strange—but not unwelcome—presence in their lives.
It isn’t until Sonoko comes bouncing into the kitchen with a smile on her face that they are broken out of their thoughts. Attention fixed on her, they watch as she takes a hand from each of them and begins to tug. The two of them comply and follow Sonoko up the stairs to one of the bedroom doors. Hers—with the gold lettering of her name on the dark mahogany wood—to be exact.
Clearly, she wanted to see her room with her dads.
Sonoko takes a hold of the door handle, turns it, and gently pushes it. As it swings inwards, Sonoko’s room is revealed to her. The walls are painted a cream color, perfectly matching the light oak furniture. The furniture itself was nothing fancy, just a bed with pink sheets Sonoko chose, a nightstand, a dresser and small bookcase on either side of the closet door, and a desk and chair in front of the window. There wasn’t anything personal yet, save for the girl’s clothes in the dresser, but Chuuya was planning on taking Sonoko shopping.
Upon seeing her room, Sonoko does her little happy dance, clapping her hands in barely contained excitement before rushing in. A smile that rivals her earlier one is beaming on her face as she runs around and inspects everything.
The feeling from the kitchen continues to grow as Dazai and Chuuya watch their daughter—god, Chuuya still can’t believe it—jump onto the desk’s swivel chair and spin it around. Silent laughter shakes Sonoko’s shoulders as she stops the chair, head spinning just a little. At this, Chuuya starts laughing, soon followed by subdued chuckles of Dazai’s own.
Making his way over to Sonoko, Chuuya places a gloved hand on her head and ruffles her hair. Sensing something at the action, Chuuya peeks over his shoulder at Dazai and sees the flash of his phone camera. A smirk forms as Chuuya raises his brow in a silent question.
Dazai gives a grin in response, waving his phone. “Another photo for the family album! Sadly, I don’t think my phone is going to have enough storage for all the pictures I’m taking. Ah, why do my boyfriend and daughter have to be so cute~” Dazai whines, a dramatic pout on his lips.
The smirk turns shaper. “I don’t know, Dazai. Why are we so cute?”
The pout instantly turns into a mock-offended gasp with a hand to his heart to boot. “Chuuya~! You know that question is a loaded minefield! It’s not fair!”
“Is it?” Chuuya teases, having way too much fun.
“Chuuya~!” Dazai whines again, louder this time.
“Alright, alright,” the redhead concedes. Walking over to Dazai, he gives him a quick peck on the lips, effectively shutting him up. It isn’t until Chuuya feels arms wrap around his waist that he realizes he fell into Dazai’s trap. A grumble leaves him as he unsuccessfully tries to wriggle away from the brunette’s iron-hold clasp. Unsurprisingly, this gets Chuuya nowhere—leading to him giving in and wrapping his own arms around Dazai. With a sigh, he nuzzles his face in Dazai’s chest, welcoming the weight of Dazai’s cheek on his head.
The hug between the two doesn’t last long, however. Sonoko, who had been feeling left out, had come over to them and tugged on their pants. Looking down, Chuuya sees Sonoko looking up at them with the biggest puppy eyes she could muster.
It was Dazai who asks, “you wanna join the hug?” Upon her answering nod, Dazai leans down and picks her up, adjusting her in his arms till it was comfortable. Dazai then wraps his arm back around Chuuya, giving the redhead and Sonoko each a kiss on the cheek.
Smiling, Chuuya brings a hand up to Sonoko’s back. In the space between them, he whispers in a voice full of happiness, full of love, “welcome home, Sonoko.”
The wall going up the staircase soon becomes filled with framed pictures.