Chapter Text
"Out of all the people in the world, why did I have to end up with him?"
Of course, almost everyone has that one thought or memory that replays in their head at least once a day. Nakahara Chuuya, the newest member of the Port Mafia, took this to a rather extreme level.
He had been acquainted with him for no more than a month or two. Yet, the first thought when he woke up, the last thought before he fell asleep, and everything in between was all about him. Usually, this sort of behavior is associated to people who have a deep love for another person, and Chuuya considered himself a living contradiction to that. Every time he laid his eyes on him, anyone around could see that they were filled with nothing but pure hatred. Even an utterance of his name, Dazai Osamu, would be enough to put him in a pissed off mood for at least a
minute or so.
Strangely, this hatred had not transformed into a desire to kill Dazai, nor would it ever become so in the future. Even despite his hatred, he couldn't deny that he was the perfect balancing element to him. Chuuya wielded a supernatural ability that was among the strongest in the entire country, and Dazai's antithesis ability could null any other ability regardless of its strength. The combination of the two was incredibly useful on a practical level, hence their nickname 'Double Black', coined by the Port Mafia boss Mori Ougai after seeing them in action together for the first time just a few weeks ago.
Beyond supernatural abilities and fighting as a duo, their personalities seemed to counteract each other equally as well. Dazai was on the soft-spoken side, yet ruthless, and took pride in his well above average intellect. Chuuya, on the other hand, was known for his poor temperament, yet he also had the level-headedness needed to keep Dazai's... strange tendencies in check. In this way, they were like yin and yang, except it was impossible to tell who was supposed to be which.
Put simply, Chuuya would be forcibly stuck to Dazai like glue as long as they both were in the Mafia, which due to Mori's iron fist would probably be till the day he died. Ironically, this and the way they matched up so perfectly made him hate Dazai's guts even more. As for Dazai himself, Chuuya was sure his hatred towards him was equal if not more. After all, he seemed to be quite cold when it came to his own feelings. Chuuya at least expressed his emotions like a fifteen-year-old normally would, but Dazai was a complete and utter mystery.
As usual, when his eyes sluggishly opened themselves one morning and his mind cleared itself from the grogginess of sleep, he started pondering about this very thing.
"If I get assigned to another dumb job with that mackerel, I swear! He says he's my age, but he sure doesn't act like it. When I say 'good morning', he just calls me some smartass insult. The few times so far I've tried to talk normally with him, he turns it into an argument. Like, what even is wrong with him? That bastard really needs to get off his high horse..."
Despite his strength, he still found great difficulty in forcing himself to escape the relative comfort of his thin futon in the Port Mafia basement. The room's walls were so cramped, sometimes he thought they would close in on him. When he finally succeeded in finding motivation to live through another day (mainly through his obligations), he wandered in a zombie-like daze around his room, because he was still partially asleep. As such, there was nothing to inhibit the freely flowing thoughts in his mind, which were running as a sort of constant background process. The only light guiding him as he sloppily got himself ready was emitted by the weak bulb literally hanging by a thread from the ceiling.
"Dazai really would be so different if I could get to know his true feelings... Is that what I've actually wanted all along? For him to open his heart to me, and me to be able to open my heart to him?"
It didn't take more than a few seconds for Chuuya to come to his senses about what these words coming from his mind truly meant. This shook him fully awake, and now he was thinking aloud whilst pulling at his hair in confusion and frustration.
"Dammit! What is this sappy shit spewing out of my dumbass mind? Remember, Chuuya, you're supposed to absolutely loathe this person. Now and forever, he will be the object of your hate!"
As he exited his room, he kneaded his forehead in an attempt to get his mind off the topic. His gaze was averted to the ground, and he wandered until he made his way out of the basement to the ground floor on the stairs.
He had been wandering around there aimlessly, until he heard someone cough. This caught his attention, and he stopped in his tracks. His head jerked up as his eyes darted around the room, looking for its source. They stopped when they caught sight of the flowing pink and white kimono of one of his superiors, who was the one who had coughed in order to get the boy's attention. Chuuya then made eye contact with her, noting the serious look on her face that she always wore when it came to business matters.
Her name was Koyo Osaki. Along with being one of the most fearsome warriors in Yokohama, a quality which had earned her some degree of trust with Mori, she was also usually entrusted with the care and training of the Mafia's younger members. At the moment, this entailed Chuuya and Dazai. Her strong will and patience enabled her to deal with the difficulties that came with looking after the duo, mostly endless bickering. Being accustomed to darkness and evil, she usually was cold as ice and never showed any emotion. Once in a while, though, this would crack to show the loving nature of a mother, something no other member of the Mafia shared.
Now was not one of those moments. She looked down upon Chuuya with her menacing gaze, although it showed neutrality rather than anger.
"Chuuya, you've woken up late. You look like you've been worrying about something, you were pacing back and forth for at least ten minutes. Is something the matter?"
The redhead waved his hands around frantically, trying to deflect the accusation.
"N-No! Not at all! I just... got up on the wrong side of the bed, er, futon today!"
The lady raised an eyebrow in doubt. By all means, she was not the type of person you could lie to. Nothing escaped her, especially when it came to the Mafia children she looked after. That said, she knew better than to force one of them to divulge information they were not yet ready to share. It was enough to her to make sure they knew she wouldn't be fooled, along with lending an ear when they were ready to speak.
"Hm, if you say so. Well, I trust you know why I've come to see you, no?"
She was right. It took less than a few seconds for Chuuya to put two and two together. Koyo mainly watched over him and Dazai when there were training sessions, or whenever they were put on watch due to an incident happening to one of them (this usually would be because of Dazai's frequent attempts at taking his own life). Other than that, she usually left the two of them to their own devices; she strongly believed in them learning how to fend for themselves. When none of the two situations applied, Koyo coming to get Chuuya and Dazai usually meant Mori had a job for them. The look on her face confirmed this.
"Mori wants me, doesn't he? But I already did shit for him the day before yesterday!"
Koyo quickly put a finger to his lips to shush him. She then proceeded to reprimand him in a rather grave tone.
"Hush! You know you mustn't speak against Mori, otherwise you know what will happen to you! You should be thankful for him taking you off the streets and putting a roof over your head!"
The last part of what she said had come out a bit strained. She had seen the full extent of what Mori's wrath could entail, so she did not quite agree with what she said herself. However, she had no choice but to say things like this, both to save herself and to prevent harm coming to Chuuya and Dazai.
"Take the elevator and go upstairs. Mori is waiting for you in his office. Hurry, go quickly!"
Patting him on the back, she turned him in the direction of said elevator. Not wanting to disappoint Koyo, he sluggishly dragged his feet into the metal cabin and pushed the uppermost button.
Given that the Port Mafia building was the tallest in Yokohama, the ride to the top floor where its boss's office was usually took around a minute at the least. To bide the time, Chuuya hummed and tapped his feet to the floor absentmindedly.
After that minute, the bell dinged and the elevator doors parted in opposite directions. The doors to Mori's office lay right in front of him as he stepped out. This was because it was the sole purpose of this floor's existence.
Obviously, the doors to the boss of an organization with this notoriety did not come unguarded. In the way between Chuuya and the door stood four of Yokohama's finest gunmen. Sometimes, if the Mafia was in crisis, even high-ranking ability users were set to guard the office.
The second the doors opened, the four men clicked their guns and pointed them towards Chuuya's forehead. Usually they recognized most Mafia members, but since Chuuya was one of the newest members, they still had not grown accustomed to him yet. This often caused misunderstandings like this one.
"Jeez, you guys really need to chill. It's just me, Chuuya Nakahara."
As the name finally rang a bell with them, they withdrew their guns. Mori had already informed them of his appointment with him.
The two of them standing closest to the doors, one on each side, bowed their heads in respect and apology. They were about to open them, when Chuuya heard a voice emanating from inside. It wasn't Mori's. Someone was already inside with him. The redhead had a gut feeling that he knew exactly who it was. It gnawed at him, giving him an undeniable urge to listen in on what was happening.
He held up a hand abruptly, and the two now confused guards withdrew from the doorknobs.
"Stop! Not now!" He demanded in a whispery tone, so as not to alert Mori that he was standing right outside.
Nearly on his tiptoes to further prevent noise, he made his way to the doors himself. Clueless as to what was going on, the guards simply made way for him.
Now face to face with the ornate wood, he pressed his ear against it. The further baffled guards thought it best not to question the youth's actions at this point.
The doors were a good deal thicker than your average building material, but it was by no means soundproof. If that were the case, the guards would have no idea if something happened to Mori inside. The fairly observant Chuuya knew this. He hoped to use this to his advantage as he listened in.
He could hear more noises, but couldn't decipher them into words or phrases. Whoever it was, they were speaking quietly enough so that what they were saying did not penetrate the walls to the outside. Just by pressing his ear alone, he would never get to the bottom of this.
"You." He turned his head and pointed to a random guard. "There's someone else already in there with the boss, isn't there?"
Despite being much younger and smaller than him, Chuuya's determined and threatening gaze, along with the rumors of how powerful his ability was, were enough to make the guard comply. He nodded in the affirmative.
In return, Chuuya decided to pose another question, the one which had been scratching at his mind.
"It's that suicidal maniac- I mean Dazai, right?"
Another affirmative nod.
That was one suspicion confirmed, at least. Whatever job Mori was sending him on, Dazai was going with him. The redhead began to grit his teeth. He was dreading the very thought of it. Mori knew how bad their arguments could get. As such, he actually refrained from sending them together if there was no need. Chuuya's ability being much stronger in the brute force department, so mostly he had been sent alone.
If Double Black was going together, that usually meant either one of two things. In spite of his short tenure so far, Chuuya already knew both of them. One, there was one enemy who had a particularly dangerous ability. Or two, the enemies weren't anything special, but their numbers were very large. He didn't bother trying to decide which scenario would be worse, trying to do anything with the mackerel made everything at least twice as hard. He had tried to reconcile their difference in personalities to make things easier, but for an unknown reason Dazai shut down all his attempts such that Chuuya eventually gave up.
All this aside, surprisingly none of this was primarily on the mafioso's mind, at least for now. Although he had not been able to make out what Dazai was saying, something about the noises just didn't seem... right.
"Should I just bust in there to figure out what the hell's wrong with him this time? No, if he knew I were there he'd never tell me! Alright, let's give it one last go..."
Again, he pressed his ear against the door, hoping dearly that the mackerel would be louder this time. Soon enough and with a stroke of luck, he got just that. He heard a distinct groan of what sounded like him complaining. Now, this really caught his attention. This groan of annoyance was common when he was with him, but he would never do something like that around Mori. This noise had also been broken a bit by... coughing?
Before he could consider the possible reasons for this happening, he heard the first concrete sentence from him.
"Mori... I mean, Boss! Please don't make me go! I can't, I just can't today... Not when I'm like this..."
"Hold up, am I sure that this is really Dazai? The voice matches, but the maniac actually saying no for once and not being Mori's dog? The hell?"
As he had expected, Mori did not take this lightly.
"I already told you, this is final! I thought you were a smart kid who knew better than to disobey orders, but clearly I was wrong... Need I remind you what happens when Mafia members decide to go astray? Or... would you prefer a personal demonstration?" Mori's voice while saying this was not one of clear rage, but nonetheless strong, sturdy, and as intimidating as could be.
The last portion of his response sent a shiver down the normally fearless Chuuya, as the hair on his body stood up on end. Although he had not had any personal experience with what Mori was describing, the rumors he had heard floating about were on their own enough to make even a lion cower like a rabbit. On the other hand, Dazai had been with the Mafia much longer, although he had never told Chuuya exactly how long. During this time, he would have surely witnessed this firsthand. He could only imagine what would be instilled in the brunette, with the threat of it actually happening to him.
As such, he was not surprised when he heard quiet sobs, which in reality must have been much louder. Even less surprising was the sound of a tight slap across the face in response, given Mori's dislike for anything that went against his twisted ideals of logic, which in his eyes entailed any human emotion.
Just like before, the sobbing noises were dotted periodically with coughs and heaving. Chuuya was completely at a loss; he never heard Dazai cry or act like this before.
In any case, he had heard enough. He resolved to find out what was happening to Dazai himself. If he played his cards right, he might be able to do this while also getting the job Mori had for them done.
He held a hand up once again, pointing to the door. The guards immediately obeyed this silent command and opened the door. Given how tall and heavy they were, it took a good few seconds for them to swing open fully. By the time they did, Mori and Dazai put themselves back to normal, as if none of what Chuuya heard ever happened. Mori stood in front of his desk gazing down at him. Dazai, on the other hand, was standing still next to him with his face turned towards the floor. Squinting his eyes to look closer, he could see him trembling ever so slightly as well.
"Ah, Chuuya. I've been waiting for you. Please come in." His voice had done a 180 back to its typical tone.
Resisting the urge to clench his fists and shout at Mori demanding that he tell him everything, he put on the most neutral expression he could and walked in to stand near him. He was some distance away from where Dazai stood.
"Right, I'll keep this short. Chuuya, you and Dazai are supposed to go down to the port. I've received word that an organization from the criminal underworld of Yokohama has made a threat against the Mafia. You already know well what we do with anything or anyone that goes against our values. Our investigation into them has revealed that none of the members of this organization have supernatural abilities. Be warned, though, they are well-known for how huge their ambushes can be. Still, it should be a piece of cake. Nothing that you and Dazai aren't able to do. Am I right?"
As he finished, he made eye contact with the redhead, meeting him with a seemingly caring yet secretly sinister grin. In return, he offered back nothing but more of his apparent obedience.
"Yes, you are absolutely right, Boss. Dazai and I will see to it that this mission is completed successfully and as efficiently as possible. Right, Dazai?"
He looked over to where the brunette was standing, but he didn't return his gaze. Without so much as a word, he nodded.
"Good. You have shown quite rapid growth to the standard required of the Mafia, Chuuya. You must keep on with compliant behavior like this. The same goes for you, Dazai. Now, off you go, Double Black. Remember, do not disappoint me."
Chuuya nodded promptly, and began to take his leave when he glanced back and again saw Dazai still as a statue. Was he doing this on purpose to annoy him? Was this all just another one of his mind games?
"Ugh! Come on, Dazai, let's get going already!"
Not wanting to stall any longer, he marched over and forcefully grabbed his wrist to drag him out.
"Holy shit! His skin is burning hot! Is this supposed to be normal?"
It certainly wasn't normal for him. However, he brushed off the sensation under the premise of everyone being different. He had never made physical contact with Dazai other than the one time he held his hand to activate his ability during the fight with Rimbaud shortly after they met, and at the time he was focused on not dying rather than the touch of his skin. Furthermore, with the god of calamity possessing him inside, he didn't consider himself human even if he appeared that away to everyone else.
"Maybe this is a human thing...?"
He tried to no avail to ignore the immense heat from his skin as he forced him to walk back to the elevator. During this time, Dazai was completely silent. Now, Chuuya was seriously starting to consider the possibility that he might have been replaced with an identical-looking copy having a different personality. No trying to pull away? No complaining about how annoying he was to him? Worst of all, no teasing him about his lack of height despite him being older?
Having had enough of whatever it was Dazai was trying to do, he decided to let go of him the second they were alone as the elevator doors closed, and interrogate him.
"Alright you suicidal mackerel, you damned idiot! The jig's up! I don't know what's got you acting all wonky and abnormally quiet today, but I'm tired of it! I'd rather have my, I mean, the normal Dazai back! Not that that's any better, but still... What's wrong, er, what the hell is wrong with you today!?"
Through his unfiltered venting of his frustrations, some things he hadn't meant to say slipped out of his mouth, hence the awkward interruptions in his speech. He stood seething at him, waiting for a response.
And yet, the only 'response' he got was some unintelligible groans and mumbles.
Being extremely fed up, he stomped over to him and grabbed him by the bottom of his chin, pulling his face upwards and forcing their eyes to meet. He wanted Dazai to see the burning anger in his eyes, which Chuuya hoped would make him divulge whatever secret he was hiding from him.
This gaze immediately broke and instead gave way to confusion when he took in Dazai's expression. His entire face was a light flushed red, and his eyes weren't looking back into Chuuya's. In fact, Chuuya couldn't tell where exactly he was looking. His eyes appeared to be glazed over, and he was entirely listless.
He had never seen anything like this before, so this piqued his curiosity. He wanted to observe his strange face more clearly, so he leaned his face in closer and closer... until he saw the string of snot hanging off his nose. He let go of Dazai's face and sprinted back to the other side of the elevator and outstretched his arm as a barrier between them, as if the snot was made of radioactive waste.
"Disgusting! Don't you know what a tissue is, you dumbass?"
Again, Dazai answered only in slurred nonsense. Thankfully for the both of them, the elevator dinged and the doors opened.
The port in question was about a twenty minutes' walk away from the Port Mafia skyscraper. It was a hotspot for not only Port Mafia activities, but also for the criminal underworld of Yokohama at large. As such, Chuuya and Dazai had to walk there often. When they did so together, they would normally pass the time bickering, sometimes stopping at the arcade on the way back from a job.
Today, however, it seemed to drag on forever. Along with Dazai being almost completely opposite of his normal self, he was lagging behind severely. On a normal day, he would be running and jumping from here to there, Chuuya behind him struggling to catch up. Now, on the other hand, he had to constantly remind Dazai to keep up. He also had to slow his pace to even less than a stroll, just so that he would not completely lose Dazai behind him.
After a few minutes of this tediousness, a new Dazai-themed obstacle came in Chuuya's way. He had begun to fall over every once in a while as they walked. To Chuuya's relief, he was usually able to pick himself up on his own. That was, until after some time Chuuya again heard the brunette collapse, followed soon after by a groan of pain.
The young mafioso rolled his eyes and let out a profuse sigh.
"Not this again! Get up now, we can't be doing this all day!"
He quickly spun around so that he could see what Dazai was doing. He saw his entire body tremble as he began to rise up. He was about halfway to standing when his wobbling knees gave out, sending him falling back down to the pavement. He let out that groan of pain once more.
For a moment, Chuuya reconsidered the possibility that Dazai might be faking this just to get a laugh out of him. It did sound like the kind of thing he would do. However, if he were faking it, his body wouldn't be trembling, and his groans would have been far more dramatic and dragged out.
Hence, Chuuya finally came to the conclusion that this was all the real deal, and that something was actually happening to Dazai. As a result, he reluctantly brought every muscle in his body to let go of just enough of his pride so that he could make his way over to where Dazai was laying and help him up himself.
"Come on, let's get your goofy ass off the ground." His voice had gone from loud yelling to soft mumbles, which almost made him sound caring.
Crouching down to Dazai's level in order to get him standing up again was incredibly embarrassing for Chuuya. That said, he actually didn't mind it much, for now. If this is what it took to get him to the port so they could complete their task, then so be it.
He nearly gasped with how sudden it was when, out of the blue, Dazai offered his shaky hand so that Chuuya could help him stand.
"Huh? Why would Dazai willingly do this? Isn't he supposed to hate me?"
Since it was the only choice he had, he accepted his offer. Their hands made contact for the second time ever as Chuuya interlocked his fingers with Dazai. His mind was immediately brought back to their struggle against Rimbaud. Unlike back then, they weren't actively fighting for their lives now. They were simply hanging out on a sidewalk, in the calm weather and peaceful atmosphere of the afternoon. Now, they had all the time in the world (so long as they made it to the port in time to fight against the enemy) to simply savor the feeling of the skin-to-skin contact.
Wanting to make up for what he couldn't do back then, he noted every fine detail of Dazai's hands. Despite being bandaged like a mummy from the wrist down, his hands themselves were free for Chuuya to notice how surprising soft they were. More importantly, though, he took note of how his skin was burning up even more than when he had grabbed his wrist.
This increase in warmth reminded him of something entirely different. Many times before, he had heard of how people would sometimes get 'sick'. Back when he led the Sheep, there were a few occasions when this would happen to one of his members. He never got to see them when this was the case, though, because they had a home to go to.
Unlike him.
When they were not sick anymore and came back to the Sheep, they would often talk about what happened to them. Chuuya had not remembered this until now, but an increase in body warmth might have been one of these things.
Still, sickness was associated with weakness, trips to the hospital, that sort of thing. Chuuya was in disbelief that Dazai, the Dazai that he knew, could go anywhere near being anything like that.
As such, he pushed this possibility out of his mind as he stood up, pulling on Dazai's arm. Sure enough, this made the younger get to his feet as well.
Chuuya was debating internally whether he should trust Dazai walk on his own, when he heard him cough loudly. He turned his head back towards him, and he saw him finally making eye contact. However, instead of disgust or annoyance, he looked up at him with the most desperate and emotional expression that Chuuya had ever seen out of anyone, let alone Dazai.
"Can't walk... Please, carry me..."
At least Dazai was actually speaking with words now. Nonetheless, the Dazai being too frail to walk? And asking his sworn enemy to carry him? Had the sun risen up from the west this morning?
Before Chuuya could properly process anything, his face went even redder than Dazai's. Even though they were holding hands right now, carrying him in his arms was still something that he could not picture.
He was trying to ponder other options when Dazai's body gave out once again. This time, he fell safely, his head resting on Chuuya's shoulder.
The redhead became even more flustered.
"I swear, Dazai, when this is all over I'm going to kill you...!" This thought was more of a reflex; even while thinking this, he was in doubt about its veracity.
However, Dazai's current position gave him an idea. Letting go of his hand, he moved his arm and swung it around Dazai's neck and shoulders. This way, he could support him as he walked without having to face the shame of having to carry him bridal style.
Having resolved this issue, they started walking again in this new arrangement. Since Chuuya had to support Dazai's body weight and make sure he didn't fall, he was going significantly slower than before. Nonetheless, this was better than having Dazai flop all over the ground.
"Don't worry, we're almost at the port, just a little bit further..."
Chuuya wasn't entirely sure whether he had said this to encourage Dazai or reassure himself. Either way, it was somewhat true; he could see the glittering of the sea in the sunlight come into his vision.
Strangely, the passers-by didn't seem to mind how they were walking, as Chuuya had been thinking to himself. There were a few with good intentions who tried to approach to ask where their parents were and if they needed a doctor, but a quick glare from the mafioso and they were back on their way.
Even with how annoying it was to him, their concern prompted Chuuya to ask Dazai about the scenario he had previously disregarded as impossible.
"Listen, mackerel. Are you... sick?"
The 'mackerel' in question lurched, and then nodded a 'yes'.
"Oh no... So Dazai becoming sick isn't actually bullshit at all!"
He had to remind himself that Dazai, despite his reluctance to show any genuine emotion, was still human. Humans get sick all the time, although his case was worse than some, exacerbated by the conditions he was forced to work under.
Even with this problem, they were finally standing in front of one of the port warehouses, after a long struggle.
"Okay, Chuuya, think. How in the world am I going to be able to fight like this?"
With the brunette still leaning on his shoulder, becoming increasingly incoherent, Chuuya began a one-man brainstorm session.
He didn't have time to think of anything useful, though.
"Well, well, well! Would ya look at what the cat dragged in!"
The mafioso turned himself and Dazai in the direction of the noise. There stood a tall man wearing ragged clothes, exactly reminiscent of what someone from a street gang would wear. Around his waist was a utility belt, loaded with the most lethal black market guns and the ammo for them. His face was covered with sunglasses and a bandanna.
"Okay, don't panic. Maybe it's just some random mugger?"
He was immediately proven wrong, as another man stepped up next to him. They were wearing the exact same outfit, complete with the utility belt and the face coverings. Chuuya disobeyed his own self, as his eyes widened with panic.
"It's those little brats from the Mafia that the boss warned us about."
"Shit! They already knew we were coming!"
Yet another man stepped up.
"Aww, one of them looks like he's too weak to even fight!"
"Who do these people think they are? No one gets to insult Dazai but me!"
He would never in a million years think he would end up defending Dazai. Unexpectedly, a million years shortened to mere seconds as he yelled back at the guy who made the insult.
"Shut the fuck up! He's not-"
Chuuya's attempt at a comeback was interrupted by Dazai lurching once again, this time regurgitating the little food he had in his stomach all over the ground. Regardless of how disgusting it was, the mess was the very last thing on his mind.
To make matters worse, Dazai's gaze went blank as he gave up the little strength he had left and collapsed limply to the ground.
He found himself helpless, as more and more men in uniform came seemingly out of nowhere, forming multiple circles which surrounded him and Dazai's now unconscious body next to him completely.
"Looks like these pesky motherfuckers will be a piece of cake to deal with... Get 'em, boys!"
One by one, the circle of gang members drew their guns. It should have been the opposite, but Chuuya found all his helplessness dissipate and be replaced by a surge of adrenaline.
"Am I really just going to give up like this? Leave everything I've become behind, and everyone? Although all I have left is Koyo..."
He took a quick glance at the younger boy lying next to him, still out cold, and sighed.
"...and Dazai. No... No! I ain't dying yet!"
He prepared himself to fight tooth and nail, maybe even to the death. Dazai, however, was obviously unable to do the same. Chuuya couldn't use his gravity manipulation ability to move him somewhere safer; he could null it out even while unconscious. Instead, the mafioso took off his coat and draped it gently and with care over the brunette's body to cover him. The coat wasn't bulletproof, nor did it have any special protective properties at all, but in Chuuya's mind it was better than nothing.
"I have to protect him, whatever way I can... Even if that crazy suicidal maniac doesn't value his life, I do..."
All pride had left Chuuya, which is why he was letting these thoughts come in his mind, in case this was his last chance to come to terms with them.
Taking one last look at his work partner, he shifted his attention back to the threat at hand.
He had two options. One, use the normal form of his ability. After all, he had used it to deflect bullets before. However, there was the possibility that the sheer number of the gang members would be out of its scope. It would be a long fight, and although there was a chance that he would make it out alive, the unconscious boy below him might not.
The second option might solve this. He could use his ability's true form, Corruption, by awakening the god of calamity. Its power could quickly decimate the enemy's numbers, and hence complete Chuuya's objective of protecting Dazai. This came with a huge catch, though. If he did this, he would become chaos itself, and as a result he would not be able to stop himself. Put bluntly, he would use up all his energy until his body could not physically take it anymore, resulting in his death. Technically, Dazai could null it out and stop him. The racket produced by the fight might wake him up somehow, and he could put a stop to Corruption with just one touch.
Realistically speaking, there was a very little chance that this would actually happen. Who's to say that he wouldn't have already be killed by then? Even if he didn't, his sickness would probably inhibit him from coming back to and neutralizing the destructive ability.
Two options, and either way one of them would live and the other would die. The only question left was, would Chuuya pick himself or Dazai.
It took him a while, but he made his decision.
"Alright, assholes! If it's a fight you want, it's a fight you'll get!"
One of the gang members smirked from under his bandanna.
"Ha, a fight? More like your dead, bloody body! Well, do you have any last words?"
Chuuya clenched his fists. As a matter of fact, he did have some words to say, which he whispered under his breath.
"O, you grantors of dark disgrace..."
He took a single deep breath as he saw red, beginning to fade away.
"Do not wake me again."