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It was supposed to be the perfect plan.
Phoenix, the organization that the Armed Detective Agency had been working to take out for the past few weeks, had been proven to be more dangerous than initially thought. Beating them with brute force wasn’t a risk that they were willing to take, so Dazai had decided that a more unconventional approach was necessary. The idea hadn’t been met with enthusiastic responses at first, but eventually he managed to get the President’s approval. Dazai had spent several days making sure nothing would interfere with his plan, working on every single detail in order to ensure their victory.
There was just one thing that he hadn’t taken into account.
Chuuya blankly stared at the new announcement on the board. He had lost count of how many times his flight had been delayed. By that point, he was supposed to be well on his way to Germany, a meeting with a client planned for him only a few hours after his landing, but a violent storm had left him stuck at the airport watching flight after flight get postponed for the past ten hours. Since his flight had been scheduled for 9 PM the previous day, Chuuya had worked all day and counted on getting some sleep during the flight. Needless to say, at five thirty in the morning, sleep deprived and stressed, he had definitely lost all his patience and hope that he would make it to his destination on time.
He let out a frustrated groan that gained him a few looks of sympathy from the people sitting around him that suffered the same fate and reached into his pocket for his phone, deciding that it was time to give up on getting out of the country anytime soon and call the client to attempt to rearrange the meeting. Before he could unlock his phone though, it lit up with a notification. Chuuya, curious about who could be trying to contact him at that hour, quickly unlocked it and clicked on the message without looking at the preview. It was a text from Kouyou that read:
[ Chuuya, call me when you can. ]
It sounded ominous enough that Chuuya immediately clicked on the call button, a frown making its way on his face. Kouyou had said her goodbyes to him in person the previous day before he started his drive to the Haneda airport. He had already promised to give her a call once he landed safely.
“Hey, Ane-san,” he greeted once she picked up.
“Chuuya? Aren’t you still supposed to be on the plane?” Kouyou naturally wondered. Chuuya had sent her a text about the initial delay of his flight, but he hadn’t updated her since, not wanting to disturb her in the middle of the night.
“The weather hasn’t been cleared to be safe to fly yet so all flights are still postponed, I don’t think I’ll be able to leave today.”
There was a pause before Kouyou spoke again. “So you’re still in Japan?”
“Yeah, on the same damn chair I’ve been sitting on since yesterday,” Chuuya groaned again. He expected Kouyou to scold him for his manners in public, something that she still did no matter how old Chuuya got, but instead, she stayed silent.
“Did something happen?” he asked, getting worried again. The Port Mafia did tend to fall apart whenever he was away.
“Something did happen, yes.” Her tone didn’t betray any emotion, but Chuuya knew her well enough to understand from her elongated pauses and her reluctance to immediately inform him of the subject that he wasn’t going to like what she had to say.
“Tell me, Ane-san,” he insisted anyway.
“It’s Dazai.”
“Dazai?” The name caught Chuuya off guard. “What did that bastard do now?”
“It looks like…” Another pause. “ It looks like Dazai was killed during an altercation with an enemy organization.”
Chuuya’s heart stopped beating for a few seconds before his brain could make sense of the words. “Right.” He snorted. “What's this? The fourteenth time he's faked his death? Someone should tell him it’s getting repetitive.”
Kouyou was silent for a moment. When she spoke again, she used the soft tone that she only used with him when they were alone. “Listen, I know that despite your constant arguing you really cared about that boy—"
"Like hell I care about him,” Chuuya interrupted her, and for once, she didn’t reprimand him for it. “But there’s no way that bastard’s dead. I would have felt the shift in the world if earth was finally saved from his existence.”
"Chuuya," she said, tone still soft. "I don't think it's one of his games this time. There is a funeral planned in the morning."
That got a chuckle out of Chuuya. “Impressive, he’s never gone as far as organizing his own funeral before. I bet he’s gone all out for the occasion, that freak is probably enjoying this a bit too much,” he continued nonchalantly. He could imagine Dazai’s joy at having to pick a casket for himself.
“Chuuya.” This time his name was said more firmly. "Akutagawa-kun already saw the body. He's really dead."
"Well, I wouldn't be too shocked if Akutagawa fell for something like that. That boy is smart but he lets his emotions get the best of him." A hint of doubt appeared in Chuuya's mind but he immediately pushed it away. Dazai couldn't be dead.
"I know you don't want to admit it, but he is dead, Chuuya. I didn't know if it was right to tell you while you were away, but since you are still in Japan… the funeral—"
"There will be no funeral. He's not fucking dead." Chuuya argued, uncaring of his tone. Dazai couldn’t be dead. He wouldn’t go out like that, there was no way. It couldn’t happen without him knowing.
Kouyou sighed. "Listen, how about you come over and we can talk about it more?"
“Where is he?” Chuuya ignored her suggestion. He had to check for himself, he had to see him.
Kouyou wisely gave him the answer he wanted quickly. “The body is in the agency.”
Chuuya didn’t like how sure of Dazai’s death she sounded, but it was fine. She hadn’t seen the body, and even if she had, she didn’t know Dazai like he did. Chuuya was going to drive to the agency and beat up whoever he needed to beat up until Dazai showed his face. He was going to punch him hard enough that he would wish he really was dead and then he was going to go back to the airport and catch the next flight to Frankfurt. Even with all that in his mind, Chuuya still drove faster than anyone should in that kind of storm.
The agency’s building looked like it always did. As Chuuya walked up the stairs, soaked from the rain, it didn’t feel like he was there to identify a body. The place looked far too peaceful to be holding the corpse of his ex partner. Once he reached the fourth floor, Chuuya didn’t lose time in kicking down the door.
“Where is he?” he demanded, grabbing by the neck the first person who came to greet him that happened to be the boy Dazai had taken under his wing. A few surprised glances and yells were thrown his way, but no one was answering the question he wanted, so Chuuya tightened his grip around Atsushi's neck. The boy tried to put up a fight, his arms transforming into those of a tiger’s, but very few people were a match against Chuuya’s gravity. He unceremoniously threw Atsushi on the floor and stepped on him, making sure he wasn’t able to move no matter how much he struggled.
“Let him go!” Kunikida yelled at him, writing something down on his notebook which ended up being a gun. Chuuya almost laughed. Kunikida looked irritated by his presence, but he didn’t look devastated, not how he should have looked like if his partner had just died. The atmosphere in the agency wasn’t exactly happy, but Chuuya struggled to see how everyone there would have looked so collected if the rumor really was true. Even someone like Dazai deserved better than that.
“Where is he?” Chuuya tried again. He didn’t want to resort to more violence, but if no one gave him his answer quickly, he was ready to make the next person who approached him join the boy on the floor. “Tell me where the fuck Dazai is if you value your lives.”
Kunikida took a step forward, but before either of them could make a move, a door to Chuuya’s right opened and the agency’s doctor walked out, leaving the door behind her open.
“If you want to see Dazai, his body is in here,” she said. Kunikida immediately tried to argue with her, but she cut him off. “He’s not going to leave until he sees him.”
Chuuya, ignoring both of them, lifted his gravity off Atsushi and rushed into the room, half expecting Dazai to start laughing at him for throwing a tantrum about him the moment he walked in. Instead, what greeted him was the sight of an unmoving body on top of a hospital bed. There was no shout of his name or of whatever stupid nickname Dazai had chosen for the day. No grunt of annoyance or sarcastic comment thrown his way. There was silence. Endless silence. Chuuya felt himself getting sick as he approached the bed, barely registering the presence of another person following him inside.
A breath caught in his throat. The body looked too much like Dazai. Too much for Chuuya to keep refusing the possibility that he could really be dead. Chuuya couldn’t take his eyes off him.
“I’m sorry.” A voice broke his trance. Chuuya confusedly moved his gaze away from the body on the bed, finding Atsushi standing on the other side of it. What he was apologizing for, Chuuya wasn’t sure, but there was such a profound look of sadness in his eyes that made something inside Chuuya’s heart break. Could Dazai really be dead?
The desperate urge to check overwhelmed his mind. Without replying to the boy, Chuuya took his gloves off, letting them fall to the ground. He reached out and carefully wrapped one hand around the exposed skin of Dazai’s hand.
It was cold, so cold. Dazai had always run cold, and Chuuya had made sure to complain about it the few times they had had to share a bed during their days together in the Port Mafia, but it had never been like that. It had never been that cold, that lifeless. Chuuya wasn’t sure what kind of noises or expressions he was making, but the boy across from him started apologizing again. Chuuya ignored him in favor of doing the test he was dreading to make. With his hand still holding Dazai’s, he attempted to activate his ability. For the first time in a very long time, the sight of glowing red on his skin didn’t fill him with confidence or security. The feeling that overtook him was so intense that Chuuya momentarily thought he had accidentally activated corruption.
But there was no God of destruction trying to take over him. Chuuya, quietly standing in the agency’s infirmary with his partner’s cold hand in his, came to the crushing realization that he had lost the one person he had always wished to keep close.
There wasn’t even anything he could do. No enemy for him to kill, no doctor who could bring someone whose body had already turned cold back from the dead he could beg for help. All he could do was stand there, quietly looking at his partner's bluish skin.
Dazai looked wrong, so wrong. Chuuya had sat by his bedside many times in the past. He had looked after him while he was sick and seriously injured, he had patched him up himself after missions, he had rubbed his back while the other boy threw up. None of those times had he looked so lifeless. It looked wrong on him. No matter how much Dazai had talked about wanting to die, Chuuya didn’t think it suited him.
Voices joined the room. Chuuya couldn’t understand who they were or what they were trying to say. Atsushi, still standing across from him, was the only soothing presence around. Without looking up from Dazai, Chuuya asked quietly, “The funeral… will there be a problem if I come?”
“I’m— I’m sure there won’t be,” the boy replied. Chuuya decided not to think too much about the obvious hesitation in Atsushi’s voice. He didn’t have any plans to interfere with something sacred like that after all. If Dazai’s coworkers had the nerve to care about him attending then it was their own problem.
The voices grew louder. Atsushi was talking to someone else who must have moved closer to them. Chuuya’s gaze stayed on Dazai. He didn’t want to let go of his hand. He was well aware that the moment he did, it would be the last time he ever held him. He wondered how long he could keep standing there before someone inevitably told him to leave. His presence wasn’t wanted. Those people probably didn’t even think he had the right to mourn Dazai like that. Even Atsushi with his kind eyes would eventually tell him to get out.
Before he could get kicked out, Chuuya gave Dazai’s cold hand one last squeeze and managed to let go of him. His hand immediately felt even colder than it had while holding a dead body, but Chuuya knew the Armed Detective Agency wasn’t the place for him to break down. With one last nod to Atsushi, Chuuya turned back and walked out of the agency, thankful that no one tried to get in his way.
The time between leaving the Armed Detective Agency and the funeral was a blur. Chuuya didn't remember where he went or what he did. He must have certainly gone home at some point, for he showed up at the funeral in a different suit. It was one of his most expensive ones, though he had always found it too plain. There had been one time during a rare joint ADA - PM meeting where he had worn it and Dazai had complimented him on it, although knowing him, it had most likely been a joke. Still, it seemed like Chuuya had chosen it anyway.
Funerals hadn’t gotten any more pleasant than they had been when Chuuya had been sixteen. He didn’t want to be there, he didn’t want to look anyone in the eyes, he didn’t want to accept any words of sympathy from the people Dazai had chosen to stand by. Even Atsushi’s soft voice had started irritating him.
Why did they let this happen? Did they send Dazai there without backup? Why were all of them left without a scratch while Dazai’s body had lost its life? Why didn’t they do anything? Were the people responsible for this left to walk freely? Didn’t Dazai know that he would have offered him his help about anything if he asked? How could he die without Chuuya having any idea about it? What kind of partner was Chuuya to not even realize Dazai was in danger?
Once the ceremony was over, Chuuya left without saying a word to anyone. He took out his phone and made the few necessary calls to get the information he needed.
"Atsushi-kun! You're finally here, I'm starving!” Dazai greeted Atsushi the moment the front door of his temporary hideout opened. “Tell me, how was the funeral? Ahhh I wish I could have been there. Come on, sit down, I need a detailed list of who cried and how much,” he continued nonchalantly despite the frown on the boy’s face. He was well aware that his coworkers didn’t share his enthusiasm about the plan. Dazai expected Atsushi to let out an exasperated sign, maybe make a comment about how the situation wasn’t enjoyable, and then join him on the couch and comply to his requests, despite begrudgingly.
But Atsushi didn’t move from where he was standing in front of the door. Taking a closer look at him, Dazai noticed that the boy looked more upset than he had calculated him to be.
“Did something go wrong?” He asked him, trying to understand what had caused that reaction. They had agreed that for the plan to work they would avoid phone calls unless there was an emergency so Dazai doubted it was that.
"Do you think we can tell Chuuya-san about the plan?"
"Huh? Chuuya?" Dazai was caught off guard. “Why are you bringing him up all of a sudden?” Chuuya was unpredictable in his predictability; Dazai had made sure he would have been too far away to intervene with the plan. He had postponed his fake death for as long as he could have gotten away with just to make sure that Chuuya wouldn’t be in Japan the night of his ‘death’.
“He came to the agency in the early morning,” Atsushi informed him and it suddenly clicked . The storm. Dazai had thought of it as a blessing at midnight when they had to successfully switch his body with the fake one. The cover of rain combined with Tanizaki’s ability had made the exchange flawless. Nonetheless, good things rarely came without a drawback.
“He saw the body?” Dazai couldn’t help but ask. Atsushi nodded and Dazai felt his face frowning. “He didn’t buy it, did he?”
“He didn’t seem to believe you were dead when he first came to the agency but then he saw the body and— he definitely bought it.” Before Dazai could ask any follow up questions about if Atsushi was really sure Chuuya had fallen for a fake body, the boy continued. “He was really quiet.”
“Quiet?” Chuuya was a lot of things, but he had never been quiet. Never, apart from— apart from the days after he had lost his friends at sixteen. Dazai, then still unfamiliar with grief, had expected Chuuya to go back to his usual loud and expressive self once he recovered from the physical wounds of the battle. It had fascinated him when he didn’t; when he watched his partner withdraw from situations he would have loved to get involved in the past, when he didn’t accept invitations to hang out with people as easily as he used to, when he kept his words to himself instead of making them everyone else’s problem. Dazai had paid close attention to his behavior, trying to learn how humans worked. He had put in the effort to be the one who dragged Chuuya to the arcade whenever they had free time, he had shown up at his place to bother him when the other boy had been particularly quiet during a meeting, he had been loud to fill the silence when it felt too much.
Dazai hadn’t quite realized it back then, but he had really hated seeing Chuuya like that. His partner had eventually gotten better, but he had never gone back to the boy he used to be before that event. It had seemed like, along with his friends, a part of Chuuya had been buried too. Would Dazai’s death have a similar effect on him? Dazai struggled to believe it.
“Yes, he didn’t tell me anything but he seemed… he seemed really sad,” Atsushi replied. By the look in his eyes, there was no doubt that the boy truly believed that. And although Atsushi could be naive and gullible at times, there was no one who could read emotions better than him, Dazai wouldn’t dare not to believe him.
It wasn’t hard to imagine Chuuya being sad about someone’s death, even if that someone didn’t deserve to be grieved. Dazai had always thought that Chuuya seemed to experience all emotions more intensely than everyone else. He had often teased him when they were young about it, claiming that the other boy was too small to handle feelings inside of him without exploding. In truth, he had found that part of him captivating. At times, it had almost felt like Dazai could experience human emotions through him, like Chuuya was feeling enough for the both of them.
If he thought more about it, it wouldn’t be too outrageous to assume that Chuuya would be a little sad about Dazai dying. They had known each other for a long time after all. Nonetheless, telling him about the plan wasn’t a good idea, he would just have to deal with his inevitable anger once he found out.
“So should I tell him?” Atsushi asked again once it became clear Dazai was too lost in thought to reply.
“No, it’s alright, don’t worry about it. I’ll deal with him when the time comes.” It most likely wouldn’t be alright, and Atsushi’s expression certainly showed that he thought that too, but dealing with an angry Chuuya was one of Dazai’s specialties, he would find a way to fix it. “Tell me about the funeral now. I’ve been waiting all day to hear about it.”
Atsushi, with a tired sigh, finally joined him on the couch, handing him over the bag of take out he had brought with him. “Alright.”
Dazai was still in the middle of eating his meal when Atsushi’s phone rang.
“Put it on speaker,” he advised the boy once he saw who was calling. It had been more than twelve hours since the last time he had bothered Kunikida, his life as a dead man was quite boring.
“Atsushi, are you with him?” Kunikida didn’t lose time to say once the line connected.
“Oh my, Kunikida-kun! Have you missed me already?” Dazai also didn’t waste time to tease him, taking the phone out of Atsushi’s unsuspecting hand.
“Dazai, we really don’t have time for this, we have a situation.” The urgency in Kunikida’s voice was clear.
“What kind of situation?”
“Someone just attacked Phoenix’s building. The people from the Special Division haven’t gotten a clear look of them yet, but they believe it must only be one person.”
“One person?” Dazai questioned, already a feeling of dread forming in his stomach.
“Yes, I’m leaving the office now to go there. If everyone dies our plan will be ruined, the Special Division said they will also take action once they work out what is going on.”
“Kunikida-kun, I know what’s going on, come pick me up first before you drive there.” Dazai ignored Atsushi’s questioning look in favor of putting his leftover food back in its container and getting up to pace around the room, phone in hand.
“Are you insane? We’ve put this much effort in faking your death, you can’t be going outside, let alone to Phoenix’s headquarters!” Kunikida argued and although his arguments were understandable, there was no time to waste.
“Come pick me up,” he said much firmer. Then, because Kunikida wasn’t intimidated by him enough in order to comply with his requests without reason, he added, “It’s Chuuya. I know it’s him. His ability is too dangerous, if he goes berserk before I stop him, this won’t end well.”
“Nakahara Chuuya? Well, the Special Division is there so I’m sure they can handle him. You can’t take this risk right now.”
Dazai was losing his patience. He was ready to start running there if needed. “Kunikida-kun, you don’t understand, if Chuuya uses the full extent of his ability the entire city could be wiped out.”
“Fine, I’ll come.” The hesitation in his voice was still there, but his agreement was good enough for Dazai. Once the call was over, he headed towards the door to put his shoes and coat on, Atsushi following behind him.
“Would Chuuya-san do that?” he asked.
Dazai decided to be honest with him, knowing that the boy would understand. “No, Chuuya is responsible with his power. He wouldn’t do anything that would endanger innocent people like that. But— I can’t let anyone who works for the government get their hands on him.”
“I see,” was all that Atsushi replied. It was enough for Dazai to know that he could rely on him.
Chuuya wasn’t unfamiliar with passing out after overexerting himself. In fact, it was something that happened more times than he would like to admit, even if he had learned his limits better as he got older. Usually, unless his exhaustion was combined with a serious injury -corruption being the usual perpetrator- it wouldn’t take him more than a few minutes to recover enough to be able to move again. It was definitely rare to find himself waking up in a moving car with no recollection of how he got there.
There were voices in the car that Chuuya knew he had heard before, but couldn’t match them with a name or face. It was unclear what they were talking about; their words mashing together to form incoherent sentences. Chuuya fought to open his eyes properly, wanting to assess the situation. The moment he did, a much more familiar voice joined the other two.
“It looks like sleeping beauty is awake.”
Chuuya stayed unmoving for a few moments, unable to comprehend what was going on. That voice—
“Are you not done napping, chibi? You know, you’re not going to get any taller no matter how much you sleep.”
Of course, that annoying voice couldn’t belong to anyone other than Dazai.
He jumped from where he had been lying down (which his brain later provided him with the information that it had been Dazai’s lap) and turned to face the other man, his eyes scanning him up and down, still utterly confused. Dazai started saying something else, probably related to his size, but Chuuya ignored him in favor of grabbing his face with both hands to inspect him. It really was him. His skin was warm enough to belong to a living person, and when Chuuya attempted to activate his ability a bright blue light engulfed them. It was Dazai. Dazai was alive.
“Chuuya,” he said, attempting to talk even with Chuuya’s hands still on his face. “As much as I’m enjoying the attention, we have an audience here." He nodded towards the front of the car where Chuuya turned to see Kunikida driving and Atsushi trying to avoid eye contact in the passenger seat. It took seeing those two people for Chuuya to fully realize what was going on. The moment he did, he abruptly scooted back as much as he could, desperately trying to ignore how his hands already missed the touch of Dazai’s skin.
“Was this one of your sick plans?” He grunted, voice still rough.
“Why, yes, it was one of my amazing plans. It had been going so well until Chuuya decided to ruin it,” Dazai replied with his usual nonchalance.
Chuuya let out a dry chuckle. “Ruin it?” He shouldn’t have been surprised by this outcome, yet his stupid heart had betrayed him once more.
“Yes, I had put so much effort into it, you know. There was a reason why we wanted these people alive, but of course Chuuya is such a brute, he wouldn’t understand.”
His fist collided with Dazai’s cheekbone at the same moment a voice from the front of the car said, “Dazai-san—”
There were a lot of emotions flooding Chuuya’s body. Relief, anger, confusion, frustration, disappointment, but most of all; there was hurt. Dazai had once again acted with no consideration about how his actions would affect Chuuya. No thought was spared about his feelings. It wasn’t a surprise. Dazai had disappeared for four years without a word to him in the past, after all. It wasn’t a surprise, yet it still hurt so much.
“So sorry that my feelings inconvenienced you,” he couldn’t help but spat out, too exhausted to care about further humiliating himself in front of both Dazai and his coworkers. His hands moved to Dazai’s neck, squeezing hard enough to hurt. “I can guarantee I won’t be getting involved in anything you plan ever again.” He pushed Dazai towards the door, convincing his traitorous heart he didn’t care about the hiss of pain Dazai let out.
He couldn’t stay there, he had to get as far away from Dazai as possible. With a swift motion, he turned around to open the car door. A hand on his arm stopped him.
“What are you doing?” Dazai asked, followed by a cough.
Chuuya, despite himself, turned around to reply to him. Some childish part of him still wished Dazai would give him a good enough excuse. “What does it look like I’m doing? Let me go!”
“You can’t jump from a moving car, we’re trying to be discreet here.”
“Ahh so you still have to make sure I don’t ruin your plan.” Chuuya laughed humorlessly. “Well, good fucking luck with that because I don’t care.” He turned around to open the door once more but Dazai spoke again. There was a hint of desperation in his voice.
“Come on, Chuuya. I will explain things to you, just come with me.”
“Where? There’s nowhere the two of us can go together.” Chuuya turned to face Dazai just in time to catch an expression he had never seen before on his face. Dazai reached out and took one of Chuuya’s hands in his. Chuuya froze, his gaze moving down to their hands. The hand that he had used to hold what he had thought to be Dazai’s dead body hours before was held by the other man’s very alive hand.
“Come to my hideout. We can talk there.”
Chuuya wanted to refuse. What was the point of hearing Dazai out? It was clear that he wasn’t even an afterthought to him, he was just trying to do damage control. But Chuuya was so tired . He had been awake for more than twenty four hours, he was emotionally drained, he still couldn’t shake the relief that Dazai was alive off him.
“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” Kunikida said from the front seat. Dazai didn’t reply to him. He gave Chuuya’s hand a squeeze and Chuuya involuntarily leaned into the touch.
God, Dazai was alive. He hadn’t lost him; or at least, not completely. Even if there was nothing in the world connecting them anymore, Chuuya had that to hold on. No more words were exchanged between them, but Dazai understood what his silence meant.
“Start explaining,” Chuuya demanded the moment the door closed behind them. Dazai had had to argue with Kunikida about the risk of bringing a mafia executive to his hideout, but eventually the man had looked too tired of their drama to get involved further.
“How about we sit down first?” Dazai replied, pointing towards the couch. Chuuya wanted to punch him again.
“Dazai, I don’t have all day. You said you’ll explain things to me so you better hurry. If you don’t plan on doing that, don't waste my time.”
“I will, I promise.” Chuuya snorted at that. Like Dazai promising things meant anything. “Come sit down and I’ll answer all your questions.”
Arguing more would require more energy that Chuuya didn’t have, so he hesitantly moved to sit beside Dazai on the couch. His first question was decided. “What the fuck was the body I saw?” It had looked exactly like him; thinking about it was making Chuuya feel a bit creeped out.
“It was an ability. We worked on this case along with the Special Division for Unusual powers. They have someone that can recreate bodies just by seeing them, so No Longer Human wasn’t a problem. The bodies they make are 99% accurate and they can’t be alive so they are perfect for cases like this, I believe this person works in witness protection. They only last for about fifteen hours so mine must be gone by now.” Dazai surprisingly gave him a clear explanation.
“Who knew about you faking your death?”
“All the members of the agency, two people from the Special Division and the ability user.” Chuuya nodded. After his anger had mostly died down, he could understand that there hadn’t really been any reason for Dazai to inform him of his plan. They weren’t working together anymore, and he wasn’t needed for it. Why would Dazai bother to inform him?
“Was it necessary for you to do this?”
“It was the safest way to expose the organization.” Dazai’s answer was his usual level of vagueness. Chuuya decided to let this one go. There was something else he was more interested in anyway.
“They said you died around midnight. That means I was supposed to be out of the country when it happened. Did you plan that?” One didn’t have to know Dazai too much to realize the most likely answer to that question.
"I did."
"So what was the idea? You wanted me to be as far away as possible so I wouldn't ruin your perfect plan? Was I supposed to find out when I was too far away to do anything?" Chuuya couldn’t hide the frustration from his voice. Fuck logic, he was too tired to pretend it all made sense.
"I knew you would want to see the body and make sure it was really me,” Dazai replied, seeming to think his words carefully. “I figured, if there was anyone in the world who wouldn't be fooled by the fake body, it would have been you."
"Well, it seems like you were wrong about that,” Chuuya couldn’t help but spat out.
"But why?" Dazai sounded genuinely confused.
"What do you mean why? You said it yourself. It was a 99% perfect copy."
Dazai frowned. "For everyone else. But you know me the best."
Chuuya laughed bitterly. "Do I, Dazai? It's been years. And I'm not even sure the you I knew was the real one to begin with."
“Of course you do,” Dazai argued with uncharacteristic certainty. “We know each other better than anyone else. After all, we’ve been part—”
“Stop with the partners bullshit.” Chuuya couldn’t let him finish that sentence. “Maybe we were partners once, but we are clearly not anymore, you made sure of that.” All the bitterness and grievousness that he had tried to keep hidden away were making their way to the surface. “I don’t know you anymore, and neither do you. You should stop fucking claiming that you know me so well, the version of me you knew no longer exists. Four years is a long time, Dazai.”
“Not for us.” Dazai didn’t seem willing to give up on that claim. Any other time, Chuuya would have either punched him and stormed out or continued squabbling with him until their argument turned into something completely childish and petty. But whether it was because of his utter exhaustion or the emotional turmoil he had experienced, Chuuya couldn’t let it go just like that.
“You really have a lot of fucking audacity to say that after what you put me through. If you know me so well, woudn’t you fucking know how this would affect me? How I would react? I had to see your dead body, Dazai! I held its hand believing it was you! I went to that fucking funeral thinking I would never see you again! How could you do this to me if you know me so well?” Chuuya was no longer able to keep his voice down. He got up from the couch and turned his back to Dazai, walking towards the small kitchen of the house. Why were his eyes so blurry?
“Chuuya—”
“SHUT UP!” Chuuya had to lean against the kitchen counter in order to keep himself upright. Why was he there? Why did he keep trying? What was the point of him opening himself up in front of Dazai? He was only handing him more things that he could use against him.
“Shut up,” he repeated much more quietly. “Didn’t you think about how I would feel at all?” His voice almost came out as a whisper, he wasn’t even sure if Dazai could hear him. “If you really know me, and knew , did you just not care enough? Was whatever plan you had more important?”
Chuuya’s logical side was screaming at him to stop talking. He had said it himself, him and Dazai were no longer partners, Dazai hadn’t owned him to inform him of any plan that didn’t involve him. He hadn’t needed him, he had other people to rely on. Of course the plan to take down an organization that threatened the peace of Yokohama was more important than Chuuya’s meager feelings. Despite all that, Chuuya couldn’t stop the tears from rolling down his face.
It would have been better if he was just angry. He would have been able to turn around and press a knife to Dazai’s throat, yell one more insult at him and leave without looking back. If fury was all that there was on his mind, he wouldn’t be depending on a kitchen counter to keep him from collapsing to the floor, he wouldn’t feel relieved that he was even able to have one more fight with Dazai even as he used his bloodied hands to wipe away his own tears.
“Chuuya.” Dazai’s voice came from much closer than Chuuya expected it to. He hadn’t heard him getting up from the couch or moving closer. Chuuya didn’t reply, instead focusing on trying to get his breathing under control. God, he felt so drained. “Come back to the couch and I’ll tell you.”
“I can’t do this, Dazai.” Chuuya couldn’t manage to put any anger in his voice anymore. “Not again.” For a moment it felt like Dazai’s hand was reaching over to touch him, but no such warmth came.
“Come sit down. I still haven’t checked you for injuries,” Dazai insisted. “Come on, Chuuya, you’re going to fall down.” That time, a hand did reach him, hesitantly resting on his arm. It almost made Chuuya’s tears reappear.
Ignoring his better judgment, Chuuya let the other man turn him around and lead him back to the couch, a first aid kit appearing from under the coffee table. He tried his best not to make any sounds as Dazai’s unusually gentle hands started inspecting him for injuries. It hurt keeping his eyes open while Dazai carefully took his bloodied jacket and shirt off and meticulously disinfected and bandaged every wound he spotted, yet he was unable to stop looking at him. None of his wounds were serious, most of the blood on Chuuya’s clothes wasn’t his, but Dazai continued taking care of every single cut.
When he reached the one on his chin, he paused, a hand left on Chuuya’s jaw. “Are you cold?” he asked.
Chuuya narrowed his eyes. “Huh?”
“You’re trembling,” Dazai noted. Chuuya’s confusion lasted for a few more seconds before he remembered to focus back on his own body and realize that the other man was telling the truth. Dazai took his hand off his face and started getting up. “I’ll turn up the heater.”
“Wait.” Chuuya stopped him with a hand on his wrist. Even through the bandages, he could still feel his warmth. “It’s fine, I’m not cold, just tired.”
Dazai regarded him curiously for a few moments, but eventually nodded and went back to the last cut. Chuuya tried to stay as still as possible, focusing on the slight sting on his wound to keep himself aware of his own body. Pain had always helped him feel grounded.
Once Dazai was done, he briefly excused himself to what Chuuya supposed was his bedroom, coming back with a sweater. “Put this on,” he said as he handed it to him, Chuuya complied easily. “You can take a shower later if you want.”
Later? Chuuya was about to question, but Dazai spoke again before he could.
“There was a mistake in my plan.”
“ Mistake? ” Was Dazai Osamu really admitting that there was a fault in his plan? It was hard to believe.
“Yes. I thought I had taken every detail into consideration, that there was nothing that could go wrong that couldn’t immediately be fixed. But— but it looks like there was one important thing I didn’t take into account.”
“Which was?” Chuuya asked, impatiently.
Dazai took a deep breath before replying, “You.”
Chuuya’s anger started flaring again. “Are you seriously gonna keep accusing me of ruining a plan I had no idea about?”
“No, that’s not what I meant.” There was a brief hint of panic in Dazai’s expression. “I meant— I meant I didn’t calculate correctly how this would affect you, I didn’t think you’d care that much if I d—”
“Are you fucking stupid?” Chuuya couldn’t help but spat out. From all the idiotic things Dazai had told him through the years, that sentence somehow was taking the first place prize. “You didn’t think I’d care that much if you died? Dazai Osamu, you sure are dumb for a supposed genius.”
“Well, I know Chuuya is a caring person, but you hat—”
“Jesus, stop talking.” Chuuya had to interrupt him again. “You can’t be stupid enough to have no idea about my feelings, stop with these nonsense excuses. Just admit that you didn’t care enough about me being upset and I’ll just call you an asshole and leave. There’s no need to do this.”
“But you’ve got it wrong,” Dazai insisted, almost desperately. “I did consider the possibility that my death could upset you a little, that’s why I wanted you to be away. I didn’t think you would even believe it was true in the first place. I imagined Mori-san or Ane-san giving you a call while you were miles away to inform you and you just laughing at them for falling for it. And I thought— even if you did fall for it, it wouldn’t be as terrible. Maybe you would be a little sad about it, but you’ve lost and grieved a lot of people in the past, my death wouldn’t be that special. I thought, surely, Chuuya won’t care as much.”
“God.” Chuuya leaned forward, burying his face in his hands. “It doesn’t work like that, shithead. Just because I’ve lost people I cared about before, it doesn’t mean it ever gets any better.”
“But I said I made a mistake,” Dazai said quietly. “I was wrong about how you would feel. I really didn’t think—” He paused. Chuuya lifted his head to stare at him, beckoning to him to continue. “I didn’t think you’d care that much.” Dazai turned his gaze down, avoiding eye contact.
It was never wise to believe the words of Dazai Osamu. He was a self admitted pathological liar. If he wanted to achieve his goal, he would use all means necessary to make sure everything would work out exactly as he wanted them to. Lying for him came as natural as breathing. Or at least, that was the version of Dazai everyone in the mafia knew. And although it wasn’t exactly a lie, Chuuya did know that that side of Dazai wasn’t all there was to him. He couldn’t dismiss all the things he knew about the other man that no other living people knew.
So even if logically there was a chance that this could still be a lie, Chuuya believed him. It wouldn’t be unrealistic for Dazai to not feel like he deserves to be grieved after all. “You really are stupid,” he told him, but this time his insult wasn’t filled with venom, it almost sounded fond.
Dazai lifted his gaze to make eye contact with him again. There was an unsure look on his face. “So, will you forgive me?”
“Hmm.” Chuuya nodded. “You admitting you were wrong was satisfactory enough, it doesn’t happen often.” It had surely been the most surprising event of the day. “Though don’t think I’m not gonna make you pay for it,” he added as an afterthought, although he didn’t really mean it, not unless Dazai provoked him again.
“I look forward to Chuuya’s punishment,” Dazai replied playfully.
Chuuya rolled his eyes. “Let’s see if you’ll feel the same when I bury you alive six feet underground so you can really experience what it’s like to be a corpse.”
“Chuuya! You’re so cruel.” Dazai fake-pouted. “At least kill me first, being buried alive is too painful.”
“Well, sucks to be you, I guess,” Chuuya replied without missing a beat. It was almost reassuring that Dazai was still as annoying as ever.
The two of them went back and forth throwing petty insults to each other, until Dazai’s obnoxious ringtone interrupted them. Dazai spent several minutes reassuring Kunikida on the phone that no, Chuuya wasn’t actively trying to kill him right now, and that yes, Chuuya was going to spend the night there so Atsushi should bring food for two the next time he came.
After the call was over, Chuuya had to question that last statement. “I’m gonna spend the night here?”
“Well, considering that you meddled with a plan that involves people from the government, it’s best to lay low for a few days. I’ve already contacted Ango and told him to cover this up, but if you cause any more trouble it will be hard even for me to do anything about it. We’ll be done with this case before the end of this week anyway, it should be fine if you just lay low until then.”
“I get that, but do I have to lay low here? I can do that in my house, too. Or in Germany, you know.” Chuuya had no idea if someone had ended up contracting the client, it hadn’t been on the top of his list of things he cared about after all.
“The best option is staying here,” Dazai declared. Chuuya was still conflicted with the idea, so he opened his mouth to raise his arguments when the other man spoke again, noticeably less confidently. “Doesn’t Chuuya want to stay with me?”
A breath was caught in Chuuya’s throat. “Don’t do this,” he warned. He could forgive Dazai for not taking his feelings into consideration when he made his plans, if he really didn’t know about them, but he wasn’t going to let him use them against him now that he was aware of them. Suddenly all the exhaustion that Chuuya had momentarily forgotten came back ten times stronger. “Seriously, Dazai,” he continued before Dazai could start defending himself. “If you try to use my feelings for your benefit I will never forgive you. Don’t think I don’t have my limits.”
“I’m not. I just want you to stay,” Dazai said softly, looking down again. Chuuya watched him as he slowly lifted his gaze and asked, “Don’t you want to stay too?”
“Dazai, I already told you—”
“I know.” It was Dazai’s turn to interrupt him. “I’m not going to deny that I think staying here is strategically the best option, but it’s not the main reason I’m asking. This plan is very important, and I am going to continue doing my best to ensure its success, but— but it’s not the only thing that’s important to me.”
Chuuya swallowed hard before asking, “And what else is important to you?”
“You.” He said the word quietly, tone barely above a whisper. Yet in Chuuya’s head, it sounded almost like he had screamed it.
“Me?” He had to make sure.
“You,” Dazai repeated with more confidence than before. “I want to keep Yokohama safe, but I also want you to be safe and not upset with me.”
Chuuya stayed silent for several seconds, not knowing what to reply. Dazai’s words made sense, but they also didn’t. He was important to him? His feelings were important enough for Dazai to put them on a similar level as the safety of their city? How could this be the truth?
A hand reached over and gently cupped his cheek. “Chuuya’s life is precious to me.”
There were numerous thoughts and emotions going through Chuuya’s head, but he still could not manage to articulate any of them. He found himself leaning into the touch of Dazai’s hand, the warmth of it overwhelming him. Dazai was there with him. He was alive, and so warm. Chuuya wanted to be even closer to him.
“Chuuya?” Dazai’s voice broke his trace. He opened his eyes to stare at him; he hadn’t realized that they had closed.
“Hmm?”
“I know you’re tired, but I would appreciate it if you didn’t fall asleep in the middle of my love confession.” Dazai’s tone was teasing, but there was a certain hesitancy to it.
Chuuya snorted. “Your attempt at a love confession sucks.”
Dazai’s free hand moved to the back of Chuuya’s neck, lightly squeezing it. “Don’t be mean, I’m trying my best.”
“Well, try harder then,” Chuuya replied just to provoke him. He wasn’t sure what Dazai’s next move would be, though he was pleasantly surprised when the other man leaned forward, stopping only centimeters away from his mouth.
“Does Chuuya want me to prove my love to him?” he asked with an exaggerated sultry tone.
A chuckle escaped Chuuya. “That was disgusting,” he said, before leaning forward and connecting their lips, swallowing Dazai’s grumble of complaint.
Later, after they had both showered and were cuddled in bed, Chuuya, with his eyes half closed, felt the need to clarify, "It did feel wrong."
"Hmm?"
"That body. It didn't feel like it was yours. But I thought— I thought it was because you were dead, so you were no longer in there." Dazai held him closer, one of his hands rubbing his back. "I guess, I would have been able to tell if I hadn't been so tired and if I hadn't let my…" Chuuya hesitated before continuing, "My emotions get the best of me."
Even without being able to see him, Chuuya felt Dazai smile against his neck.
"Oi, what are you smiling for, bastard?" he asked, flustered.
"Chuuya has been talking about his emotions and feelings for me all day, how can I not smile?"
"God, shut the fuck up," Chuuya said, squeezing Dazai's waist. “I hate you so much.”
“I hate you, too,” Dazai mumbled, leaving a small kiss on Chuuya’s collarbone.