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“It’s true,” is what Chuuya says after he confronts him about it. It’s uttered in such a breezy tone that he feels wrongfooted by how easy it has been to get this answer, especially since he’s prepared a hundred-step plan to trick the chibi into admission. “If there’s nothing else, stop blocking my way, I still need to finish some exercises.”
Dazai makes a face at the blatant dismissal. “You actually dare to shoo me away?”
Full of askance, “Why shouldn’t I?” This is followed by a series of rude gestures. “Get the hell away and stop infecting the air here with your fishiness!”
The current state of the mafia: booming first quarter profits, with the second quarter’s projected finances about to reach an all-time high. Soukoku is a name that strikes fear in the hearts of their enemies, and those foolish enough to get in their way are flattened by the slug’s gravity manipulation and his foolproof plans. Things are quite comfortable, to the point that he’s even concerned about the risk of dying of boredom before he could find the loveliest way of committing suicide.
“But you like me,” he says, words suffused with giddiness from knowing one more factoid about this dog. He’s on his way to filling the 35th notebook about details of his dog; knowing the enemy is the most important step in knowing how to kill them. Dazai’s pre-sleep ritual for the past two years of knowing the chibi is filled with closing his eyes and imagining ways of how to end the chibi’s life, complete with realistic squawking once Chuuya thwarts his murder attempts.
This time, it’s Chuuya who makes a face. “Yeah, I like you.” He says this in the same tone of someone finding out that he’s stepped on dogshit. “What does that have to do with me chasing you out of my room?!”
He clicks his tongue, one hand on his hip as he wags a chastising finger in front of the other’s nose. “Fufufu, as expected, shorties like you don’t even know how to treat your crush well!”
An irritated, “I’m this close to crushing you, orders from Boss be damned.”
“Wow, you’re even thinking of disobeying Mori-san for the sake of your feelings for me?” He claps his hands together, truly delighted, even though his stomach rolls with something that’s probably allergies towards a slug, with how much it twists and churns with excitement.
“My very murderous feelings,” comes the clarification. One middle finger is pointed at him, before Chuuya shoos him away once more. “Why aren’t you leaving yet? I have loads of plans today, I don’t have time to waste dealing with you!”
Of course, there are life-and-death missions. Of course, there are fights against enemy organizations. But those are taken care of easily with their combined might, so those don’t really count as obstacles—which makes their life in the mafia very smooth-sailing. And it’s due to this smooth progress that Chuuya actually has time to take several days off work.
It’s just a shame that this naughty tiny sheepdog is addicted to being a workaholic. Instead of spending his vacation lounging in his bed, ready to be at Dazai’s beck-and-call, this chibi is actually busy with… “Come to think of it, what are you doing now, Chuuya?”
“I’m answering mock exams for the university entrance exams.” Compared to what must be the entire population of examinees, Chuuya sounds unfazed and even a bit excited. It’s as if there’s a phantom dog’s tail wagging behind him. “And in the afternoon, I’ll take that online lesson on Python, before trying out calligraphy.”
Then, it’d be followed by the chibi’s recent obsession with following cooking videos so he could make homemade dinners, before going for a strenuous evening exercise in the mafia’s private gym.
It’s the chibi’s way of trying to amass so much knowledge about humanity in such a short amount of time. Chuuya seems allergic to having prolonged downtime, wanting every moment to be filled with vitality that he couldn’t sit still for long. It’d be admirable if it’s done by someone less like a dog who’s always cooed at by everyone around him.
So, he has no choice but to dampen the other’s spirits, “Even if you do all of those, you’re not going to get any taller.”
As expected, it makes Chuuya flare up like a cat whose tail has been yanked. “My height has nothing to do with this?! Plus, I’m just seventeen, I still have time to grow!”
For a brief moment, he entertains the impossibility of the slug growing tall. Maybe tall enough to be like Godzilla, and then he’d have clothing damage from suddenly growing so big? Urgh, that would mean there’d be a naked chibi terrorizing the city, a sight that should be enough to end the world. He shakes his head and decides that it’s really for the best that a tiny dog remains a tiny one. “Since you like me, you should just stay obediently short, so I can use you as an elbow-rest.”
“What the fuck does that have to do with this?!” Out of irritation, Chuuya rubs his hair, messing it up yet somehow still achieving a result that would be considered ‘artfully tousled’ by stylists. “Fuck, you know what? I don’t care if you stay, I’m just gonna ignore the shit out of you.”
Well, he has no plans of staying out even if the shorty chases him away, but it’s always good to know that his dog knows a losing battle when he sees one. “You’re using such acidic language towards the person you like. That’s not good, Chuuya.”
“Whatever,” is the dismissive response, the beginnings of Chuuya’s determination to ignore him.
That’s fine too, because he can take the chance to observe the little man in his natural habitat in the meantime.
His room is a mix of utilitarian and cozy. There’s no obvious opulence, despite the number of oohs and aahs his bank account could gather. A spacious one-bedroom, big enough that the bedroom is bisected by a row of bookshelves to separate a space for a home study. The living room’s couch doesn’t have any laundry haphazardly thrown about, and the floors are free of any wayward wrappers. For someone so busy with work and so resistant of strangers coming into his space, Chuuya’s able to maintain the cleanliness of his place by himself.
In fact, he even has time to scold Dazai while cleaning up his steel crate of a home, whenever they have to meet there. Gravity manipulation is very handy for household chores.
It’s quite disgusting to be liked by an idiot slug, but he supposes that there are worse things in the world.
Chuuya liking him is additional opportunity to slack off. Chuuya’s addicted to taking care of those he considers important to himself, so he can look forward to having homecooked meals more often, as well as someone looking after his state.
…Even if his dog is resolutely keeping his eyes on the reviewers, not giving him the attention that he deserves.
“Do you even know what it means to like someone?” He’s curious. They obviously hate each other, and Chuuya’s obviously an idiot when it comes to recognizing intricate emotions—there’s that new receptionist who keeps on greeting Chuuya with a honeyed tone, but he simply doesn’t sense her desire for him. How could a small-brained idiot even have the mental acuity necessary to recognize that he likes him?
That question makes Chuuya lift his head from his hyper-focused studying. Narrowing his eyes, he taps the worksheets as he talks, “You’re the guy I want to spend a lot of time with, because being with you is annoying, but also a guarantee that the mission will go well. You know a lot of things, so in areas without good reception, I can just ask you without the need to use Google. Your physical prowess is non-existent, but it’s pretty funny when you try to talk high-and-mighty and I have to come in and save you.”
He goes around the table so he can peer closer at the idiot slug, very dissatisfied. “Hey, why do you sound like you’re listing out my faults?!”
“It’s not my fault that you’re full of inadequacies,” is the equally-miffed reply.
“You really don’t know how to like someone!”
“I do know it!” Chuuya faces him fully, crossing his arms over his chest. “The girls at Ane-san’s place told me that if someone makes my heart race so much and my body heat up, then that must mean I like that person! I’m so annoyed by you that I nearly get a heart attack each time, but I also like you! Urgh, it’s disgusting!”
Thankfully, he’s smart enough to have started a recording the moment he’s entered this room, so he can savor such words at a later time. For now, he has to focus on the important bits: “Huh? Why are you hanging out with those pretty ladies? Are you trying to be an adult while finding a lovely courtesan to spend the night with?”
Chuuya gives him a look like he’s crazy. Slowly, “I came there during daytime.”
He wrinkles his nose. “So you’re that excited for it that you came there in broad daylight?!” As ladies working under Ane-san, they’re surely talented in the arts of charm and grace. No matter how small he is, Chuuya’s too big of an idiot to understand that he’s being seduced! “Did they touch you while chatting you up?!”
“They offered to call me an ambulance when I told them I like you.” Chuuya also wrinkles his nose, apparently disgusted by the recollection. “I was going to talk to Ane-san, but she had to go to an unexpected mission. I wanted to ask her if she had medicine for the dizziness I feel when thinking about you.”
…Hmm. Well, Chuuya’s words are very unskilled, but it’s that earnestness that makes him sound so appealing. It’s annoying being liked by a shorty, but there are surely silver linings to it, such as hearing him declare such embarrassing things.
However, there’s one thing he must clarify. “That’s because I’ve been adding slow-acting poison to your morning coffee.”
“I know about that,” is very casual. “I let you off the hook because it actually added a nutty aftertaste to the coffee, so it tasted even better.”
A harrumph. “One of these days, I’ll really manage to kill you, even if you’re so in love with me.”
“Ha? Who said anything about love?! I just like you and hate you, that’s all!”
“You’re saying incomprehensible words again,” he reminds, sighing. A quick glance at Chuuya’s worksheets show that he’s actually answered most of it correct, which is unacceptable. “Scoot over, I’ll teach you the right answers for the ones you got wrong.”
A probing look. “Tsk, knowing you, you’d just teach me wrong shit!”
“Chuuya, I’m generously letting you spend time with your crush, you should be thankful to me and kneel down and massage my legs in thanks.”
There’s a sound of gritting teeth. “As I’ve thought, I really hate you so much.”
“That should be my line. Now, try not to be so excited that you end up crushing my fingers when we hold hands.”
“HA?! Why should I hold hands with an asshole like you?!”
Dazai opens his eyes wide, painting an expression of someone so angelically innocent. “Hmm? Or do you want to skip immediately to kissing?”
“HAAAAAA?! Why should I?! In case you missed it, I hate you very much!”
“If you hate me so much that you wouldn’t even kiss me,” he enunciates each syllable slowly, as if to drill them into the slug’s brain, “then you can go ahead and quit liking me, Chuuya.”
That curdles the other’s expression so fast that he almost gets a whiplash witnessing it. “…Tsk. I’ve been told that liking someone is a regular part of a teenage human’s life, so…” With a face full of unwillingness and also competitiveness, Chuuya then squeezes his cheeks, before giving him a biting kiss. “There! That means that I like you, damn it!”
He blinks, before licking his lips. His cheeks feel warm, while his heart pinballs all over his ribs, presumably so disgusted by the contact that he couldn’t contain himself. “As expected, a dog only knows how to bite.”
“Ha?! If you continue yapping nonsense, I’m going to kill you!”
Their day-off passes like that, the two of them continuing to bicker, all while doing their version of an arm-wrestling while holding hands.
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end