Work Text:
1950
Chuuya was walking in the woods, wondering how he got there. All that he knew was that he had fallen asleep while doing some paperwork.
And then he woke up in this incredibly bizarre and cold forest.
It didn’t take long for him to find a little house near a river. It looked like an old village house, but somehow in a better condition, like it was built a little time ago.
He takes some steps forward, asking if someone is home, which was true.
“Took Chuuya long enough…” he hears a soft voice coming from inside. Did Dazai mess with him again?
“How did I get here, asshole?” Chuuya asks as he enters the house.
He is surprised to see Dazai sitting on the floor with a book in his hand. He was wearing a blue kimono, but the biggest change was that the only bandages that he wore were around his neck.
“Is it the first time you time-travelled?” Dazai asked, raising his head from the book.
“What are you…”
“You’re slow like always, I see.” he hummed, making Chuuya’s blood boil.
“Just tell me what happened and stop your stupid singing.”
“Didn’t I say before? You can travel in time. But only I can get you back to the present.”
“What year is it?”
“1950”
Even though it was a lot of information, Chuuya started to understand what happened. The only thing that he didn’t comprehend now was Dazai.
He stared at him for a moment. Even if his body didn’t change much, you could see from his expression that he was younger. His eyes weren’t filled with that resentment towards life that he was used to.
“Than that means…that you are immortal?”
“Sadly.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
“That’s a matter for me from the future. You should ask him that,” he said as he got up and walked towards Chuuya. “I’ll help you with that,” then he slightly touched Chuuya’s cheek.
Present
Chuuya woke up at his desk with a little wince. Was it a dream or reality? He had only one way to find out.
He never liked to go to Dazai’s place because every time he saw that dumpster he remembers that he might be a manipulative asshole, but he has serious problems. And he hated to give mitigating circumstances.
The door wasn’t locked, as always, so he knocked.
“Does Chuuya need me?” he heard Dazai from inside.
He entered the dumpster. “Just had a weird dream.”
Chuuya takes a seat on the only chair and examines Dazai.
Normally, he wouldn’t ask questions before he thought of them twice. But the dream felt too real. “Are you immortal?”
Dazai starts laughing, making Chuuya’s heart race. Why can’t he be reasonable for once?
“I see… You discovered your other ability.”
“Why didn't you tell me?”
“For the surprise element. Isn't it fun?”
Chuuya instantly got near Dazai and prepared for a punch. “I'll have more fun punching you in the face if you continue to mess with me.”
Dazai raised his hands, trying to make peace.
“Fine, but there's not much to talk about. You will discover it while travelling more.”
Chuuya sighed and let go of Dazai's shirt. “Can I travel to any time I want?”
“Unfortunately not, you can travel just when you're asleep from what I know.” Silence took control over the room for some seconds. “Don't tell Mori about that.”
“I'm not an idiot.”
“And it would be nice if you tell me how many times you travelled.”
“Sounds fair.”
“But avoid talking to me as much as possible. Can you imagine how exhausting it's been having you around for so many years?”
The punch that Chuuya promised arrived at Dazai's nose.
February 1985
Dazai was trying to cook some crab in his new small apartment. He hated to admit it, but he was never a good cook.
But he was bored.
When he realized he was immortal he didn't feel happiness at all. He knew that he had to lower his status so no one would think he was suspicious. And, just like that, his life became so boring he started to think of killing himself.
The only interesting thing that happened to him was talking to Chuuya, which didn't happen as much as he liked, even though he hated to admit it.
And now, there he was, popping out of nowhere, that little redhead.
He looked a bit younger than usual, even though his dark circles were smaller.
Dazai sighed in disappointment. He was in the mood for a talk, but now he had to babysit the young version of Chuuya.
“It smells awful.”
“Well, I guess it's better than the last time when you told me: What did you do there, clumsy bandaged idiot? This thing smells worse than you, mackerel.”
Chuuya left a little laugh. “I guess that goes for this smell, too.”
“Always so rude. Let me guess, second time travelling?”
“Ya. Just punched you in the face 'cause you didn't know to keep your mouth shut.”
“My future doesn't look good for me.”
“I guess spending more time with your most hated person is a pretty bad lifestyle.”
Even though Dazai lived way more than he looked, he never understood himself at all. But one thing he knew about him was sure: Chuuya wasn't the person he hated the most.
“You know… If I spend time there… do I age?” Chuuya says as he rests his head on his fist.
Dazai knows the answer. But he knows how Chuuya discovered that too, so he doesn't respond.
Instead, he takes a knife from the table and cuts Chuuya's hand as lightly as he can.
“What a…”
He doesn't have time to continue because Dazai kisses him on the forehead.
Present
When Chuuya woke up, the cut on his hand had disappeared completely. So he can't age while he is in the past.
But his sleep was affected by it. It was 8 a.m., and he felt like he slept two hours.
This version of Dazai didn't seem as annoying as the others even if he almost puked from the smell of his food. He saw him trying to cook before, so he encountered worse.
Also, the idea of time-travelling didn't seem as weird as before, so he had hope that he'll get used to it. Travel, touch Dazai, and go back. Didn't seem that difficult.
1987
The next time Chuuya travels, he arrives in the same apartment as before. But Dazai wasn't there.
All that he found were some money on the table and a note: Relax for once, slug.
He stared for some minutes at that fancy writing that he knew for years. Maybe he was right. He can take advantage of time-travelling and go out without always checking his messages to see if he got a new mission.
He starts looking in Dazai's apartment for some clothes and somehow felt nostalgic when he opened the wardrobe even though he never lived those times. So many colours and good fabrics.
His jeans… were pretty ugly, but he couldn't find any better option. Thankfully he managed to find a decent black shirt and a leather jacket with a tiger in the back. In the end, he liked how the outfit looked on him, even if he always hated this style of fashion.
He took the money from the table and got out.
Chuuya took his time to eat at a restaurant, so he can walk on the street more peacefully.
When the sunset was near, he paid for his food and went for a walk.
The atmosphere was very different, even though it was the same city. Somehow the people seemed slightly familiar, though.
It was relaxing, looking at the river and wondering what to do next. He could buy a bottle of wine with the remaining money and drink it at Dazai's apartment.
The idea seemed fine to him because he still had to ask Dazai some questions, and he needed to sleep urgently.
So there he was, with half a bottle of wine on the table and a full glass in his hand while he lay on Dazai's couch. He still wasn't home.
“You know… I'm getting kinda bored…” He felt the alcohol taking its effect, making his body warmer.
He takes one more sip before putting the glass on the coffee table and falling asleep.
When Dazai entered the apartment, he already knew that Chuuya was there from the smell. The alcohol smell.
“How do you find these sleeping positions?” Dazai said as he tries to put a blanket around Chuuya while being careful not to touch him.
“I guess you're travelling for the third time. Older Chuuya would drink more than that.”
He takes a notebook from the drawer and marks a 3 in his list of times he met Chuuya.
“You still have a long way to go!” He said as he analysed a list full of numbers.
“Can you shut up? I'm trying to sleep!” Chuuya almost shouts at him as he arranges his blanket. “Also, I would've drank more if I wasn't so fucking exhausted!”
“But the smell of alcohol betrays you!” Dazai hummed into his year.
“Be quiet, for once!” He tries to punch Dazai but fails.
“If you don't stop, you'll go back!”
“Oh, yes. I want to finish that bottle.” He takes his glass and takes a sip. “By the way, thanks for the money. You can't believe how happy I was when I saw you weren't there.”
“Probably you time-travelled when I exited the house. You usually don't teleport that far away from me.”
“Then why did you leave me money?”
“Because your future self told me before about how you ate the best food in your life on the 13th of May 1987.” Dazai pours himself a glass of wine. “Besides, you probably wouldn't accept to go out with me.”
“You're right. Even though, thanks for the money.”
Present
In the next weeks, Chuuya learned that it was best not to sleep in his pyjamas, that he should always have something valuable with him and most importantly:
That he will time-travel less and less.
Which made sense, when he realized that all those times his body got weaker and weaker.
He tried touching Dazai as soon as he time-travelled, but he still woke up in the morning, feeling even more exhausted.
So his main scope when he got in the past was to sleep as much as possible.
Which worked sometimes.
Present Dazai was refusing to talk to him about Chuuya's new ability, implying that he had to travel more.
Which wasn't much of a choice for him.
1959
Chuuya woke up in the forest house where he was teleported for the first time.
Nothing changed much except the wood looking older and less shiny. But what made Chuuya's heart race was the blood on the floor.
“What happened there?” Chuuya rushed to check Dazai's wrists, careful not to touch them.
Dazai stared at him with an empty look and Chuuya understood instantly. He saw him like that before. He helped him with that before. But this time he seemed more helpless than ever.
“Hey, I'm there. I'll help you stop the bleeding.”
No reaction, not even when Chuuya rolled his sleeves and ripped his clothes to improvise some bandages. Good thing he fell asleep with his gloves on.
After he stopped the bleeding, he put Dazai to bed, prepared some tea and clean all the blood.
When he finished, he gave a cup of tea to Dazai.
“You scared me a little there.” He doesn't know what to say, even though he did this kind of thing before.
So he puts an arm on Dazai's shoulder and starts singing a lullaby.
After Dazai fell asleep, Chuuya had the worst time trying to stay awake. Unfortunately, he woke up in the present.
Another time, he woke up in a bus station feeling the coldness hit his skin. Dazai was wearing the biggest and fluffiest coat he ever saw.
“Let me go back.”
But Dazai took a step back and said in a weirdly serious tone. “Tell me the time first.”
“26. Now let me go, I'm freezing.”
Dazai wrapped his coat around Chuuya, ignoring his complaints. “We have to discuss my first time seeing you. Because I have some rules.”
“Then go ahead.”
“Not right now.” He reminded Chuuya that other people are waiting for the bus, too. It was a miracle they didn't see him appearing out of anywhere.
After some minutes, he realized that Dazai was starting to shiver, even though he was hiding it. So he wrapped his hands around him, trying not to touch him directly.
“Be careful-” Dazai said, even though he was responding to the hug with more power.
“Yes, I know, dumbass.”
Dazai took Chuuya to a café, so he won't ask his college roommate to leave the room.
“So you went to college? How bored were you?”
“You can't even imagine. Such a shame I can't show you my beautiful dorm room…”
“Well, I think it's not as bad as your dumpster.” He almost laughed.
The mandarin tea came pretty early, letting Chuuya enjoy the cinnamon smell.
“Do you want me to say anything to your past self?”
“Don't try to hang yourself. It's not worth it.”
“Oh, come on. Who tells that to a 15-year-old?”
“Then find a better quote. That kid was more mentally stable than me now anyway.”
“I can see that pretty easily. What are your rules?”
“Don't tell him he's immortal.”
“Makes sense.”
“Just tell him you're a time-traveller going to different places doing your stuff.”
“That's it?”
“Yes. You can talk to him a little and leave.”
“That sounds… easier than I expected.”
“He's still a kid, remember?”
Dazai remembered his first meeting with Chuuya like it was yesterday. A sleepy redhead telling not to mind him because he's a time-traveller, and he meets random people at random times. The weirdest thing was that he told him he was 27 even though he looked around 18, but that detail didn't matter until later. Before leaving, Chuuya pinched his nose, telling him he was doing great.
“You know…” Chuuya said as he stared at his tea, “All those versions of you that I've met those years always seemed the same to me. Maybe you encountered some bad times, but a part of that kid is still in you.”
That was the sweetest thing someone ever told Dazai. “I could say the same about you.” A little pause for Dazai to show a smirk. “Deep down, you're still my dog.”
“You asshole! Forget what I just said.”
Was there something bringing Dazai more joy than seeing Chuuya angry?
1979
“Ah, great. Hippie Dazai again.”
Dazai's hair in those years was the best thing he wanted to mess around. It didn't look bad, it just didn't match his face.
“Oh, angry chibi again. Do you want some wine?”
“Is there any point in asking?”
Dazai opened a bottle of decently-looking red wine, which seemed like the most expensive object in the room.
“I didn't know this apartment looked even worse before.”
“Just moved in. But I must admit, ten times better than the college room.”
“30”
“Oh, the slug finally remembered.” Dazai takes his usual notebook and marks the 30.
Dazai said that he'll talk to him when he time-travelled at least 30 times, which didn't make sense at all in Chuuya's mind.
Dazai took a cassette and suddenly the room was filled with the sound of classical music.
“Let me check those cassettes.”
Tens of cassettes were organized in that drawer like they were displayed for a shop. But nothing else than classical music.
“In my defence, they are from the previous owner.”
“I didn't even complain.”
Chuuya got back to his sit to take another sip of the wine.
“Oh, so you like this one.”
“It's decent. But if it's expensive don't bother the next time.”
Chuuya never understood how Dazai made his living, so he wouldn't like to make his life more difficult when he was rich in the present.
More glasses pass before Dazai said: “Let's dance.”
“Oi!”
Even warned, Chuuya was surprised when Dazai took his gloved hand and started waltzing into the little kitchen.
Chuuya felt the alcohol boiling his blood. Some part of him wanted to be sober, so he could stop dancing, but the other…
The other wanted him to dance without the concern that any touch can stop this moment.
The space was too little, the moves were too chaotic for him.
But he enjoyed it.
He enjoyed it so much that he didn't realize that Dazai kissing him meant goodbye.
Present
A lot of things started to make sense in Chuuya's head when he woke up.
Thankfully, he was perfectly sober to go and ask Dazai for an explanation.
So there he was, back at the dumpster, with his heart pounding incredibly fast.
“Can we continue whatever was happening that 30th time?”