Archive of Our Own

At 15, Chuuya Nakahara already knows he's not human.

It's no secret: he's always been aware that there's a god of destruction lurking just beneath his skin. He is Arahabaki after all, or at least his vessel, and when the god entered him, he probably merged with it.
It's a strange feeling, but the god is so deeply ingrained in him that he doesn't think he could be anyone without it. There is no Chuuya without Arahabaki, there is no Arahabaki without Chuuya.

(Although, of course, he can't remember who he was before he and Arahabaki merged).

(Has he ever been anyone before? He was destined for this, after all.)

He's not human when he escapes from a government lab at age 8 with no memory.
He's not human when he joins the Sheep and they make him their "King of Sheep."
(It's a stupid title. He never wanted to be king of anything. But the Sheep taught him about life when he knew nothing, welcomed him into their midst and were his first family, so he could never really refuse them calling him that.)
Nor is he human in the betrayal of said family, even if the pain of the dagger nestled in his belly seems very human.
(And it's strange because he's literally been stabbed, but the feeling of betrayal is somehow worse.)
(He ignores the voice in his head that whispers he should have known better anyway, because he's not human enough to make them stay, but he's still too human not to get attached to them.)

Chuuya isn't human.

This is what he tells Rimbaud when he meets the latter. And it doesn't end well, given that he escapes an assassination attempt, but the other seems to think that he's more than just Arahabaki, and that he might actually be more human than he thinks.
(He probably shouldn't lend too much credence to the last words of someone who's just tried to assassinate him, but when Chuuya receives Rimbaud's hat from Mori, he makes sure he always wears it from then on).

At 16, things are looking up.

He still doesn't believe he's human, but he's joined the mafia now, ended up with a partner who makes his poor nerves ache, completes lots of missions and doesn't really have time to think about his humanity anymore.
He's made friends, he completes his missions without any problems, and his partner isn't that bad.

Of course, being in the mafia isn't that simple. Chuuya isn't afraid to kill, but he has a great respect for life, and he doesn't think a person's rank makes them "wasteful". Somewhere along the way, he manages to detach himself emotionally enough to carry out his missions. (Empaths don't last long in Port mafia. )
Somehow, he gets used to his environment, copes with the constant killing and learns to survive.

He can't be human, though. A human being wouldn't be consumed by anger all the time, the one feeling that never really seems to leave him.

And then, of course, things get out of hand. Verlaine appears, Chuuya's past resurfaces and once again creates chaos in the life he's struggling to build.

He loses the Flags.

And, in the middle of this mess, he's somehow using corruption for the first time.

He absolutely hates it.

Corruption tears at his bones and skin, pierces him like a knife through and through, rips his soul to shreds. Corruption eats away at him, seeping into every pore and leaving ugly red marks on his skin. It destroys his body, erasing the part of him that was Chuuya, leaving only the god of calamity to destroy everything around him, including himself. Chuuya is no longer conscious, he no longer exists, there's only pain, emptiness, and Arahabaki who won't stop and won't stop, and his body that's slowly dying.

He hates the feeling of losing control.

When his partner gives him back control, he finds his body mutilated, his eyes weeping blood, and a fatigue -not just physical- that threatens to overpower him. He holds on.

(He has to.)

He doesn't get proof of his humanity or non-humanity.

(Maybe that's for the best, but the uncertainty is eating him up inside.)

(A voice in his head whispers that deep down, no matter what the answer, he's so convinced he's not human that he might not have believed it.)

Life goes on.

It's strange dealing with Dazai. His partner is the most annoying person he's ever met, but somehow he's like home.
He hates him with all his corrupt soul, but there's no one he trusts more.

They both think the other is more human. It doesn't make sense to Chuuya, because he doesn't know anyone more human than Dazai, even if his eyes are too empty. It's strange, he can't quite explain it, but when he looks at the other boy, he sees...a human, neither more nor less. Neither a demon, as his nickname suggests, nor any other kind of entity. Just a boy. (A traumatized boy, but who isn't in their milieu? The members of Port mafia all have a past that has thrown them down this road, condemned to wander through a desert arride all the way to hell. They'll all end up there, staring at their bloodstained hands. There's no escaping Port mafia).

Dazai's actions are far from moral, but neither are his own, nor those of any of the figures in his life, not even Hirotsu or Ane-san, who practically raise him and Dazai, so he decides that this is not a criterion for judging his partner's humanity, otherwise nobody in Port Mafia is human.

(Maybe they aren't, after all. Maybe you can't be human without light. And port mafia is definitely a place of darkness).

(It's almost laughable that they're each other's opposites, but see in the other the humanity they can't find in themselves).

(It's almost laughable that Dazai's ability to bring him back from corruption to the nearest thing to being human is called "no longer human").

(It's almost laughable, but there it is.)

Over the next two years, Chuuya makes frequent use of corruption: it's a destructive and powerful power, useful in a milieu such as port mafia, especially as combined with his partner's cunning, few enemies can resist them.

Every use is a torture. Thanks to his agility and combat training, Chuuya is rarely wounded in normal combat, but the use of corruption leaves his body and soul shattered in the middle of a devastated battlefield.

(Not remembering is perhaps one of the things he hates most about this. Maybe it's because he already has too many missing memories from his childhood, maybe it's because he can only see the damage he's caused and think "I did this", maybe it's because the accompanying sense of loss of control only affirms his certainty that he can't be human).

But, with every use of bribery, Chuuya knows his partner will be there, not far away, ready to stop him; he always stops him. He brings him home. It's a promise.

("You'd better stop me as soon as possible, you fucking idiot."

"Sure thing. As always, partner."

And Dazai may be a fool, but Chuuya trusts him anyway, and although his bandaged partner has an annoying tendency to break promises, he knows he'll always come if he uses Corruption. Even if he has no intention of using it without him. He's not the suicidal one between the two).

Besides, Dazai seems to think corruption is beautiful. He never says it to his face, but Chuuya sees it on his face when he wakes up. Strangely, it makes things a tiny bit more bearable to see that his partner can find a certain beauty in the destruction that whatever he does, Chuuya always seems to bring. Besides, Dazai always calls him Chuuya. Not Arahabaki, never Arahabaki. He talks about the god as a person completely separate from him, and somehow that feels good. It makes him feel like he could be 'just' Chuuya. Not Arahabaki, not the god of destruction, not even Nakahara-san, member of the port mafia. Just Chuuya. (He quickly asks all Port Mafia members to call him by his first name. It gives him an impression, oh, just an impression, of almost touching humanity.)

Since neither can convince the other of his humanity, they both decide that neither is. Neither of them believes it, of course, but it's a kind of pact between them. If they can't both be human, then they'll be non-human together.

They don't talk about feelings. Somehow, they don't need words to understand how they feel, nor do they need words to label their relationship other than "partners".
Above all, they don't talk about love.

(Can you love if you're not human?)

(At 18, alone in his apartment, a bottle of Petrus in hand, Chuuya'll decide that yes. )

They move in together when they're still 16. It's a mutual decision, although they didn't consult each other. One day, Dazai arrives at his apartment and stays the night. Then the next day. He never leaves. The only discussion they end up having on the subject is very brief.

("You know, I really can't stand you. We should stay together."

"oi, fuck you, I despise you too! ....I agree, let's stay together.")

There are days when Dazai's eye is so empty and dark that it looks like a black hole, others when Chuuya calls himself Arahabaki in the mirror, but they adapt.

For the next two years, life unfolds almost happily. (Not completely, never completely, happiness can't really be total at Port mafia, but it's more than he could ever have hoped for).

They do missions together, rarely on their own, fight sometimes, kiss on many occasions.

When they're together, Chuuya feels complete.

(Not completely. Never completely, because he's never learned to be anything other than an angry child, and that anger bubbles under his skin and explodes at the worst times. He's never really learned to express joy or sorrow, so he takes the easy way out and lets rage express what he's having such a hard time doing.)

Still, they're not glued together. Dazai spends time with his drinking buddies, Oda and Ango.

Chuuya has created links outside Dazai too. Tachihara, Hirotsu, Kaji, the akutagawa...all his colleagues have become a kind of family.

A dysfunctional family, but still a family, and Chuuya loves them (he's always loved too much).

At 18, Dazai beat him to become the youngest executive in Mafia history. He soon follows him in his promotion. Things change from then on: they have fewer missions together, and are busier. Their position has greater responsibility, and there's less time for moments like this.)

Despite his new rank, Chuuya refuses to consider his life superior to those of his subordinates. He can't save them all, of course, but he avoids unnecessary loss, and makes sure he knows everyone's name. (When they don't come back, he makes sure their loved ones are notified, or if they have no one, that they at least have a grave with their name on it. The idea of letting them disappear, as if they'd never existed, is unbearable to him for some reason). Dazai scoffs and calls him "too sensitive", but Chuuya doesn't care. He quickly becomes one of the most beloved executives.

("Chuuya is really fascinating. All these years, and you continue to be so...solar. "

"What does that even mean?"

"..."

"Hey, answer me, waste of bandages!"

"....I meant you're still as boring as ever. "

"huh? If you say so, liar. I'm going to hit you anyway"

"oh noooo, a little slug is trying to attack me…")

He's trying to be happy. He's really trying. ( And yet, he can't help feeling himself slipping into hell sometimes)

He accepts any job, even if it leaves him exhausted, even if it fills his body with scars, even if he starts to hate the color red a little from seeing it so often. It doesn't matter as long as he's useful. (If he's no longer useful, what is he?) He sometimes meets Dazai's disapproving gaze when he returns from a mission too banged up, but he ignores it. Why should he care what he thinks? He doesn't really take care of himself either).

They don't talk about it. Neither of them knows how to handle this kind of thing. (Deep down, Chuuya knows that his conflicted relationship with Dazai is a bit toxic, but he doesn't care. It's the mafia, after all. And then, some nights, lying with his partner in their bed, he cherishes what they have more than anything else).

This is life. It's his life.

The impossible happens on a night like any other.

Chuuya isn't there when it happens. He's been sent to France to settle a business deal which, if he succeeds, will bring the mafia an interesting commercial agreement. It's a big responsibility: he's proud of how far he's come, and of the trust the boss has placed in him. He's only eighteen, after all, and although mobsters tend to die young, he's proud of what he's achieved since his arrival.
That means he's not around when the mimic case happens, when the next collapse of the established order in his life occurs.

Until then, Chuuya has always considered the mafia to be a place from which one never exits other than in a coffin. It's completely impossible to hope to leave such a place without being immediately executed. A contract with the mafia is a contract for life. So, when he learns of Dazai's defection from his executive post on his return, his first reaction is total disbelief. It's not all that surprising, on reflection: Dazai has never had any regard for his life, and if anyone can risk the consequences of leaving the mafia, it's him. But still, Chuuya can't understand.

He ends the evening at home, in an empty apartment, a glass of wine in hand, not knowing what to do. And, because leaving the Mafia means death to him, he can't help thinking that maybe Dazai isn't some miraculous element who survived the Mafia's betrayal. He can't help thinking that maybe he finally succeeded in committing suicide somewhere, leaving his body to rot in a ditch out of sight. (It's an unpleasant thought, so he drinks himself into unconsciousness.)

(That evening, for the first time, he puts the word "love" to what he feels towards his partner.)

He finds the wreckage of his car, blown up the next day, and suddenly he's not sure how he should feel, because rage bubbles under his skin, burns like the remains of his car (he cared about that car, damn it) but the feeling of emptiness quenches his anger, and he's not sure how to act. (He's never really known how to deal with things any other way).

He's not angry with Dazai, not really. Because, whether Dazai killed himself or escaped (though he believes it less and less), he somehow managed to extricate himself from the darkness, and Chuuya wishes him nothing less. (He hopes that if Dazai is alive somewhere, he's free, far, far away from the battlefield that is the mafia, in a place where the sun isn't hidden behind dark clouds). He's not angry, but the swirl of conflicting emotions he's feeling isn't clear, and Chuuya hates not understanding himself, so he tries to pretend he's furious that this idiot hasn't said anything, left anything, not the slightest trace that could have proved that Chuuya had mattered during these three years of partnership. He's an idiot. Dazai owes him nothing, and if he's really gone, he'd better not have left behind any evidence that could be traced back to him. But anger has always been a driving force for Chuuya, what kept him going all these years, when he was living on the streets, when the Sheeps betrayed him, when he had to carry out all the mafia's missions, so, once again, he rekindles his anger, lets it guide him and proclaims loud and clear that he hates the bastard and is even glad he's finally gone.

He doesn't give in to his colleagues.

He doesn't give in to Ane-san's skeptical look. (She doesn't believe him, he knows, and she knows he knows she knows. It doesn't matter as long as he doesn't admit it out loud).

Nor does he give in to the boss, who questions him the very next morning, to "check he's not an accomplice". ("It's just a necessary procedure, for the good of the mafia. You understand, don't you, Chuuya-kun?")

(On his way home, Chuuya looks in the mirror at the scar on his abdomen that says "Arahabaki", drawn with a scalpel, burned to a crisp, imprinted on his body forever, and he almost manages to convince himself that his hatred for his ex-partner is real. Almost.)

It hurts. He'll live.

(He thinks. He thinks Dazai is probably dead, and the only thing he's able to tell himself is that he's glad he never had to become 'Dazai, head of the port mafia.')

With Dazai gone, this means he no longer needs to use corruption. It's a relief, for his body and for himself: he doesn't have to endure the loss of control again, the pain at its worst, the weeks of recovery. Still, it's strange. He was used to using it, betting on it. It's also further proof that soukoku, the port mafia's terrible duo, no longer exist. Worse than that, no longer releasing the destructive god within him somehow makes him more present. Chuuya had already noticed that long periods without its use made him feel restless, more aware of the god's presence in his body, but it's somehow worse now. He doesn't understand why: he survived years before the mafia without releasing the god, why is he unable to bear it now? Has his tolerance become lower? Has he become accustomed, slowly, to his ex-partner's touch canceling out contact with the god and making him 'just Chuuya', to the point of feeling his presence more keenly now? Frustration and pain built up. He never felt less human.

But it doesn't matter, because he's an executive now. He has responsibilities he can't put aside. His life didn't revolve around Dazai, anyway. The boss gives him fewer tasks, though. ( He's probably still suspicious that he knows anything about Dazai. Chuuya can't blame him. Everyone knew there was something between him and the ex-mafioso).

Mourning is a strange thing. Until then, Chuuya had thought very little about the Flags . He didn't have the time. Chuuya never let himself miss people. He couldn't: life taught him early on that people come and go, and that life must go on. So he put aside the people he'd lost, and moved on. Without really knowing why, the emotions he'd repressed for years chose this period to come back and hit him in the face. He thinks of the Sheeps, his first real family. He thinks of his friends the Flags, who are all six feet under. He closes his eyes and sees Albatross. Suddenly, he's 15 again and has a dagger in his belly, placed there by the man he considered his brother. He thinks of Dazai, too. He imagines his body lying motionless in a ditch, and the idea that Dazai will never have a grave is unbearable. He'll have to dig one for him, even if it's empty, when the courage comes. (He's searched for his partner's body all around, in ravines, in rivers, but he's never found anything). He thinks of all the people he loved (still loves), all dead or gone. His heart is a graveyard, but Chuuya can't help loving again, again, again. And he hates himself for it. Monsters aren't supposed to love. (He should have known better.) His heart burns in his chest, and he'd like to tear it out. (Sometimes, in front of the mirror, his gaze falls on the ugly scar on his belly and his eyes burn too.)
He's filled with grief, and as always this turns into anger and suddenly he's burning, his body, his heart are burning, and he wants to get this rage out of his system, he's so, so tired of burning all the time, but he can't help it, he's never been able to help it. The slightest annoyance and he'd explode, pouring out his bitter anger on everyone and everything around him. ( A tiny part of him can't help but think this is one of the reasons the Sheeps got rid of him. It only makes him angrier).

He wants, he needs, to get that rage out of his system. One evening, at the end of a mission, he looks at the clearing in the undergrowth where the action took place, and suddenly the rage returns. He wants to get it out of his system, he wants to get it out, HE WANTS TO- (he destroys the whole corner of the forest with his bare hands that night, leaving his fists flayed and the wood residue on the ground stained with blood).

Gradually, the boss gives him back more missions, and his wary gaze softens. Chuuya dives in headfirst. He has to stop himself thinking at all costs.

(One day, he's fed up with the scar and tries to tear it off. He tears at the skin, getting blood everywhere, but the writing is too deep and the god's name remains visible. He refuses to look at it from then on).

The missions he undertakes are increasingly dangerous, but he doesn't care. One evening, he comes home with a larger-than-usual wound. An enemy has managed to take him by surprise, despite his ability, and cut a hole in his chest just below the heart. The wound isn't fatal, but it's bleeding badly, and Chuuya knows he'll have to stop the hemorrhaging soon enough. He collapses in exhaustion on his mattress, promising himself to heal himself in the next five minutes. He just wants to rest for a few minutes. (And then comes the thought that he could just let himself die, fall asleep and bleed to death in his apartment. The shock of the thought makes him open his eyes. The thought of giving up never crosses his mind; he's not one of those who die, he's one of those who stay. So why can't he bring himself to move?) He's tired. He could just go to sleep. He could just... rest.
(That evening, a call on his mobile from Kouyou rudely awakens him, making him finally react and tend to the wound. There's blood all over the mattress, but nothing too serious. He buries the thoughts deep inside him and lies to the young woman when she asks why he hasn't answered her call).

Life goes on.

On his twentieth birthday, he reaches a climax. He's in his apartment, staring at the scar on his belly. Mori forced him to take a day off for the occasion, but he felt out of sorts all day. His colleagues threw him a surprise party, and Chuuya hadn't been this happy in a while. But now he's back home, alone in the apartment, and he can't take his eyes off the scar. He's no stranger to scars, but this one particularly bothers him, perhaps because it represents the god in him, his non-humanity, perhaps because it's placed on his abdomen, ready to be seen in broad daylight as soon as his shirt lifts. (Chuuya has made sure this will never happen.) This scar both fascinates and repulses him, especially today, because it's his birthday and birthdays always remind him of bad times. A new wave of grief and mourning has come over him and he doesn't know how to deal with it, especially after the joy he felt that very afternoon. ( Things are too confusing. Things are too fuzzy. Things are too heavy. Which is probably why he's more prone to mischief, more prone to listen to the voice in his head whispering that he could just pick up the gun next to him and stop all this, if he wanted to. All he'd have to do is pick it up, put it in his mouth and shoot-)
At the moment of the shot, Chuuya realizes that his ability has unconsciously activated itself and protected him. He spits the bullet out, unprepared for the wave of shame that crashes over him like a tsunami. (He doesn't cry. He hasn't cried since he was fourteen). Never again, he swears. He'll never do that again, whatever it was. Something clicked that night: despite the rampage his whole life has been, he actually wants to get through it. He's going to make it.

The next day, he approaches Kouyou and asks her to help him find a therapist (he knows there are some who know how to keep quiet, for people like him, who would probably belong behind prison bars). (He knows what they say: you can't heal in the same place that hurt you. But the whole world seems to have hurt him, so where is he supposed to heal? He'll always be Arahabaki in Thailand or France, and he doesn't want to leave the mafia anyway. He's built his life, his family, here).

Trying to get better means he has to make the effort himself. So he tries. He takes fewer missions, takes better care of his body, stops always blaming himself when subordinates die on missions. (He doesn't stop caring, though. He's never been able to stop caring too deeply).

It’s not every day easy, and there are more days, at first, when things are so bad that he laughs at himself for thinking about improving his situation. But over time, the good days seem more worth it. Over time, he manages anger a little better, grief a little better. (And it’s never perfect, it may never be, but it’s bearable and he thinks he could live with it)

He spends more time with his colleagues, his only family, too. It is not easy, because he has lost so many people now that the terror it is starting again leaves him inclined to isolate himself, to avoid forging relationships deeper than just superficial. Part of him begs him to remain alone, that if he relies only on himself, he will get away without having to worry about the lives of others and the consequences on his own. But he loves them, and cannot, he can never completely stop caring about others, so he faces his fear and lets himself love them. He goes shopping with Gin and his brother, accompanies Higushi to the cafe, jokes with Tachihara. And that’s good. Even when things aren’t easy, it’s good. Somewhere along the way, he also slowly learns to open up a little more, to let them care for him in the same way he cares for them.

A year passes again.

"Chances are there are a lot of snipers on this mission. You’ll have to think about protecting yourself at all times. Unless your ability instinctively protects you, of course." Says Ane-san one night as she reads him the summary of her next mission before they go out into town.

He nods distractedly by adjusting his hat, back to her, looking at a mirror.

"yes, it blocks the bullets even if I'm the one who shoot."

Silence.

"...and how would you know that?"

Only then did he realize the implication of his words, which he let slip. He freezes.

"and how would you know that, Chuuya?"

He could lie to her. Find a convincing lie in his past that would explain why he had to shoot himself, or pretend he shot himself in the leg to test the limits of his ability. But he knows she understood, and his lack of response only confirms what the woman thinks. Ane-san is not stupid, and she knows him, just as she knows the dark thoughts and pain that she must have faced also in her troubled past. He turns around slowly. (He’s not sure what to say. Is he supposed to apologize?) She looks at him for a moment without saying anything, her expression darkened, and he thinks she might yell at him or react violently. Against all odds, when she takes a step forward, it is to drag her into a tight embrace. At this moment, he realizes that Ane-san is only a young woman barely older than him, who had to learn to be a mentor, who practically raised him as a mother that she was far too young to be, who survived his own battles and probably has no idea how to handle certain situations or feelings. He squeezes her back, sore throat, and vows once again to never do it again, although he does not intend to. He never wants to see such an expression on the woman’s face. It’s not worth apologizing for, he decides, but he keeps her hugged until it’s far too late to go to the town store they were planning to go to tonight.

And then, when he’s 22, the impossible happens again. Dazai comes back alive. This time, he’s there to see it happen. When the announcement reaches him, Chuuya is initially incredulous. The idea of his former partner, chained in the basement of the mafia seems laughable to him. He joined the armed detective agency two years ago, he is told. And to imagine Dazai there, the same Dazai he knows, is no less laughable. ( it also hurts a bit to know that it’s been two years and he’s never heard of it before. Of course, if that’s really the case, Dazai had to avoid the mafia members as best he could, but still.) Yet, when he goes down to check himself, he cannot deny that it is his ex-partner, here, chained. He has changed a lot. The first thing that surprises him is to cross his two eyes, free from the bandage that hid one of the eyes for so long. Of course, when they lived together, he had sometimes had the opportunity to see his right eye, but seeing the man, like that, showing his two eyes in the open is...bizarre. The second thing he notices is the long beige coat that replaced Mori’s black coat. It’s brighter, probably more suited to the life he leads at the agency, but Chuuya wouldn’t know. They immediately fall back into their dynamics, their spikes, and it’s familiar, almost comforting to see that despite these four years and Dazai’s notorious change, part of what they were seems to still be there. Dazai mentions that Chuuya hasn’t changed, however, and it almost makes him want to scream, because that’s not true. Chuuya may have kept the same jacket and hat, but he has changed over those four years, evolving irrevocably in the face of the events he has been through, and if Dazai is not able to notice, So maybe the gap that’s been growing between them since he left is deeper than he thought.

He ends up letting himself being manipulated and gives his former partner the information he was looking for. (He never believed he was really kidnapped. Dazai knows better.) When he leaves the cell, he feels strange. Because he has spent the last four years almost convinced that the other man was actually dead, and the mourning he has begun is abruptly interrupted, and it takes him by surprise. It mixes in his chest a whole lot of feelings that he can’t really unravel. (somewhere in his mind, when he thinks of these two brown eyes, a voice whispers to him that perhaps, the man he mourned is really dead four years ago, leaving in the same body a perfect stranger, whose details he doesn’t know. It’s awfully selfish, but he doesn’t like the idea. ) Chuuya collapses on his bed on his way home and fixes the ceiling. For the first time in a long time, the apartment seems almost empty. He closes his eyes and thinks back to Dazai’s eyes. He keeps thinking about it. Because, his former partner has not only changed physically. His eyes have something brighter in them, something that did not exist when he was in the mafia. For once, Chuuya feels no anger. But he’s not sure it’s a good thing: anger is his pillar. When it goes away, it remains only a deep inconsistency and it does not know itself what it feels. The thing is, he’s sincerely happy for his ex-partner, for escaping the darkness of the mafia, for finding something or someone, who lights up his eyes a bit and pulls him towards the light. But to think that Dazai could have changed so much without him being there to see it and evolve with him, the thought of the gap that separates them now, that things have definitely changed and that nothing will ever be the same, somehow hurts. They managed to become strangers . Not to mention, that although it is selfish, he can not help but be furious for the grief he endured. He knows, he knows, rationally, that Dazai owes him nothing and that avoiding giving a sign of life was necessary to survive the defection of the mafia. (Only here is: Chuuya is 22 years old, head and heart upside down, feelings reversed and scattered around him, and he is allowed not to be rational, at least this time.)

If Chuuya has one ability, it is resilience. He will live with this new apocalypse of his world. He will survive. (as always)

When Chuuya receives Mori’s order to work on a joint mission with the agency, and more particularly Dazai, he is not sure what to feel about it. Of course, he is a little happy to find the familiarity of their duo. On the other hand, they both evolved differently. ( deep down, he wonders if they have not become incompatible). But things aren’t that different, after all. For a moment, Chuuya almost feels like he’s sixteen again. And then he has to use corruption again. This is no better than in his memories. It hurts, it hurts so much, he had almost forgotten how much it tore him apart. (However, releasing the god in him again is somehow liberating. He’s not sure it’s worth it, but that’s it.)

He wakes up alone. It’s no surprise.

What is a surprise, however, is to find Dazai at his door the next night. And he apologizes. In the three years he spent with Dazai as a partner, he never heard, even once, the man apologize. It is further proof that man has changed, proof that he seems to be trying to get better, to be a better person. Chuuya is so caught off guard that he slams the door in the man’s face. It’s cruel, it’s really cruel on his part to brutally reject what seems to be an attempt to be better, even perhaps an attempt to repair what’s between them, but Chuuya, despite the four years, is not ready. He is not ready to face this new Dazai that he never imagined a second exist in all the scenarios concerning his ex-partner that he imagined since his departure.

During the following weeks, he closely observe s the armed detective agency . He observes this small man who eats so many sweets that Chuuya is a little bit sure that he should have diabetes, the somewhat terrifying doctor with purple hair (he kinda like her through ), the young boy who turns into a tiger, who seems to have a strange connection with Akutagawa weaving over the days. He observes these two young brothers and sisters who have a.... special relationship, this blond boy who compliments his hat (Chuuya likes this one very much. He will teach him two three useful tricks on occasion.). And finally, he observes Dazai’s new partner, this man who always clings to his notebook and his ideals. He finds him common with himself, and many, many differences too. Comparing is nonsense, but there is a tiny part of him that has a feeling of bitterness in seeing the one who now has the title of partner of Dazai, which he previously had. There is some bitterness that takes him when he watches Dazai among his colleagues, smiling, looking happier than he ever was in the mafia. He really found a real family, and even if he is happy for him, a part of nostalgia still takes him in front of what time takes and changes.

Dazai is not completely happy either, of course, Chuuya suspects, one cannot erase in a few years a whole life of trauma, but he never looked so happy. He never looked more human either. (And although Chuuya never doubted the humanity of his partner, ex-partner, something in him bitterly whispers to him that he was not supposed to learn to be human without him .)

He keeps his distance.

Because Dazai is an unbearably stubborn being who swore to make his life hell, he does not give up. He comes back, again and again, a little more determined every time Chuuya slams the door in his face. Not always to apologize, because he remains Dazai after all and it seems that honesty, even since he joined the agency, is not his strong point. But he teases and insults him happily and it seems like he’s just looking to hang out with him, and he feels a little guilty, because Dazai shouldn’t have to make as much effort to apologize for leaving a toxic environment, but the worse he feels, the more he repels him. And h e can’t really help but respond to his insults and he knows he’s playing his game, and really, he shouldn’t, it’s a bad idea for a whole bunch of reasons, because Mori might want to use their relationship if they stay too close to drag Dazai into the darkness again and that’s the last thing he wants, because it could ruin his relationship with the agency by seeing him close to a mafioso (He’s not too sure about this one, because the tiger boy seems to be spending a lot of time with Akutagawa. He knows this, because he’s been keeping an eye on the boy since Dazai defected.) but also because things are a little different since he admitted to himself that he loved his ex-partner.

But Dazai has changed a lot, and he admitted to loving the old Dazai, but does that mean he loves the new? He is not sure and the confusion always gives him a headache, so Chuuya would like to keep his distance, but he feels gently sliding, yielding. He still closes the door in Dazai’s face.

(His therapist tells him that maybe the reasons he mentioned earlier are just excuses. That maybe he is afraid of himself. Fear of communicating, fear of learning to be healthier, because they both learned to kill before they spoke and this new thing terrifies him . He leaves the session early that day and explodes a tree on his way.)

Then one night, things explode. He had a bad day, and he knows that this does not excuse anything, but he had to bury about twenty lost subordinates on the same mission that failed, he just came out of the boss’s office and his look full of disappointment still weighs in his memory, And when he goes in front of his house and sees Dazai in front of his house, something cracks in him. He screams, he goes wild, and for the first time since he saw Dazai, the other one seems really shocked. He leaves without saying anything and while the door closes behind him, Chuuya feels the tsunami of guilt coming back in his face to drown him. He wants to scream but a man under the water carried away by the waves is incapable of it. He drowns on his bed, writhing like an ant that an idiot burns with a magnifying glass. He hasn’t felt so bad for days. He does not realize that he is crying for the first time in forever until a hand wipes his tears and someone puts a blanket on his shoulders.

"...why the hell are you still here..."

The other emits a reprobate and annoyed sound.

"because the stupid slug is apparently not able to take care of him self on his own."

"I can do it. You think my life revolves around you, that I’m just 'miserable Chuuya' who can’t get away without you?"

"...no, that’s not what I think."

"..."

"You’ve always been the strongest of us" the brown man mumbles.

"why are you here, Dazai?"

"I already told you. 'Cause the slug-"

"No. I mean, why are you really here? Outside my door? What do you want from me?"

Why are you coming back to me after you left the Port Mafia?

He does not ask the question, but Dazai, this bastard, has always been able to read him like an open book.

"I’m here because you’re my partner."

"That’s not true. That’s not true anymore. You’re part of the agency, Dazai, you have a new family, so I don’t fucking understand why you would want to come back?"

The ex-mafioso seems to be caught off guard.

"because you’re my partner…"

H e repeats softly and he gets closer and lies down next to him.

Things seem more intimate, more sincere, and it’s a look that doesn’t suit any of them . (For the first time, he admits that his therapist may have been right about him.)

"...go away, Dazai."

"You’re still mad at me for leaving, huh? Aggressive little dog"

Okay. Maybe the other one can’t read him as well as he thought. He explodes.

"I’m not fucking mad! If you’re my partner, as you say, shouldn’t you know that? Why the fuck would I be mad if you left the fucking mafia that tortured you for years! I’m not angry because you left, I’m angry because I thought you were dead for four years, Because I grieved your loss and suddenly you come back and you’re stupid enough to tie yourself to someone in the mafia who could bring you back to what you’ve been running away from for years, damn it!"

"oh." (he laughs bitterly. Of course, that would be Dazai’s reaction to a whole heated speech.)

"Chuuya, I’m not afraid of Mori."

The mafioso sighs and turns around, but Dazai stops him.

"No, I listened to Chuuya, you will listen to me too. I. Chuuya, I.. I’m sorry you thought I was dead, but I’m not sorry I left and found a family -you were right earlier, they’re my family- but, no, wait and listen to me, slug."

He stares at him now, resolute and yet hesitant at the same time .

"I’ll never let Mori ruin something I care about again. And, the agency may be my family...but Chuuya, you’re my family too."

The speech would certainly be more touching if Dazai’s words didn’t seem to burn his lips as he looked away, but after all, he is still learning and Chuuya assumes he can be accommodating this time.

(Dazai stays that night. And the next. They take things slowly, because learning to trust and know each other again is a complex task that takes time, but Chuuya wants, he really wants to give back a chance to what they are. It will never be like they were, because they both changed and grew, and Chuuya rebuilt a life, his life, without Dazai for four years, and he was happy like that, and Dazai found people who are healthier for him than anyone he’s ever known. It won’t be the same, but this new thing they’re building together could, in fact, be stronger, and better .)

It’s not perfect, because they learn every day to juggle their trauma, because Chuuya’s bad days at work are frequent and Dazai is still not completely honest, but they learn.

When Chuuya wakes up after fighting a dragon, floating in the middle of nowhere, his first desire is to hit the fool in front of him who gently caresses his cheek and has just brought him back once more to the living. (its him in the form of corruption has obviously not been deprived of it seen the marks on the skin of the other, and he seems to have been stabbed, so he restrains himself, because he has a little knowledge-live and don’t want to hit an already injured man. It’s not at all because he’s worried. Not at all.)

"You used corruption believing in me? How beautiful."

Of course, reconnecting with Dazai means telling Ane-san.

The woman looks at him as if she is done with him, then simply sighs.

"I guess it was inevitable.... and you both seem happier, so. ."

(It would be sweet if she didn’t add right after that she would cut him to pieces if he broke his heart. Although, it’s also a bit sweet in a way.)

Not everyone has such a good reaction.

The day Akutagawa catches them kissing, he first thinks that the other is going to assassinate him on the spot and tends a little by seeing the other’s ability activate, because he has no doubt about his ability to defend himself but he has no desire to fight against the youngest he came to appreciate as a little brother, even though he knows his tendency to seek Dazai’s approval at any price.

But it’s not him that Rashomon is targeting.

Stunned, he watches Dazai jump back and touch the ability to cancel it, looking a little shocked . Even he should not have expected this. Akutagawa looks absolutely furious, trying to throw himself at Dazai as if to gut him. They calm the boy, but he always casts a suspicious look at the ex-mafi oso .

"if he does anything to you, I smother him, Rashomon cancellation or not."

Before Chuuya’s questioning gaze, he explains a little.

".. I still want him to notice me and be proud of me. But if he hurts you, I’ll kill him. Because during those four years, you were there, Chuuya-san. You’re the one who forced me to go back to training when I wanted to give up, who spent time with me and Gin, and everybody. You. Not him."

And Chuuya.. Well, he can’t say he’s not touched to see yet again the clear evidence of the family he’s built and loves, again and again.

".. and stupid Jinko says I should give less importance to Dazai-san’s every move. Not that I listen to him!"

Add it up with a grunt.

"ah, the tiger boy. You seem to be spending a lot of time together. That’s good."

"We don’t spend a lot of time together!"

"sure."

"Chuuya-san!"

Turning to Dazai, Chuuya realizes he is smiling.

"...well, you’ve grown since I left. I’m proud of you."

The sound of Akutagawa’s fainting body makes him wince. He assumes that some things never change completely.

Time never stops, and brings with it new days. And days in the mafia are never easy, but looking at the life he has built for himself, the family that accompanies him, he realizes that if he had to start again, he would not change any of his choices.

(This does not mean that he forgets those he has lost. He carries with him his sorrows, the memories of the flags, his scars, and some days, grief is stronger than others and compresses the toracique cage like a vise. But good days are worth it, they are always worth it. And on a good day, their memories make him smile rather than scream.)

He even finds himself a little less angry all the time.

Dazai eventually left the dormitories of the agency and moved into his home again, because it was more comfortable and easier for both of them. They had not done so far and this new intimacy is almost strange. It had been a long time since 'Chuuya and Dazai’s apartment' became 'Chuuya’s apartment', and although he no longer lives in the same apartment he occupied when he was 18 years old, he had come to the idea that his apartment would remain...just his own. But it’s also familiar and comfortable, a constant rediscovery of habits that he had forgotten and is learning again, l earning things he doesn’t know yet. He listens to Dazai’s daily insults and childish complaints and threatens to hit him and their neighbors must think they are crazy, and maybe they are, but that doesn’t really matter.

They are both deeply traumatized adults, and therefore they both have bad days. Dazai’s bad days fill the bathroom with bandages and empty looks. Chuuya changes the bandages of the other and makes sure he has eaten properly. Chuuya’s bad days leave him filled with burning and destructive rage. Dazai lets him break whatever he wants, then he puts a blanket on his shoulders and holds him until the fire dies down.

(one night, after a bad day:

"It doesn’t surprise me that Chuuya expresses h is anger with such a fire. Chuuya has always been as hot as the sun."

"you already said that."

"what?"

" that I was solar. You said that once. What did you mean?"

"..."

"Osamu."

". .Chuuya.. is a bit like the sun. So stupid to bring light to others and warm them up. Your explosions are burning. And your gravity attracts everyone and everyone revolves around you, everyone gets attracted to revolve around you like dogs."

"ha! Who’s the dog now?"

".. I suppose that makes me Icarus. Because I want to let you burn me, consume me entirely."

".. You’re an idiot."

"Hey, that’s all Chuuya has to say about such a moving statement? The slug is so ungrateful!"

This is an honesty that Dazai would never have achieved a few years ago. He has really changed. And Chuuya loved the 15 and 16 year old Dazai when he was still a little brat who cheated at video games, the 17 and 18 year old Dazai and everything that went with it.

He thinks he might love this Dazai too.

It’s too much. He burns, he wants them to blend into each other, merge and become one, that their lips and their bodies unite until the boundary between one and the other blurs. The way Dazai responds to his starved kiss, he guesses he feels the same way.

There has always been between them after all a tacit understanding that guided them, in their mission against the guild, against Fyodor and Nikolai (although this plan was frankly unpleasant, Chuuya can still remember the taste of the glue he had to put to stick his teeth and play the vampire). This is why it may be surprising that Dazai did not see the scar earlier.

Chuuya had not thought about this scar for a long time. True to his word, he hasn’t laid eyes on it since his promise. He and Dazai have had intimate relationships, but never so much naked, never so intimate, because they both had body parts they didn’t want to think about, traces they weren’t ready to share. But tonight, as they slowly undress, as he caresses the scars on his partner’s arms and kisses every inch of his skin, Chuuya completely forgets the scar in the form of a god’s name, a scar that rests, faithful, on his abdomen, until he hears Dazai’s muffled inspiration as he discovers it.

Suddenly, as if they were only waiting for this moment to exist, he can again feel each letter engraved on his skin years earlier.

"Chuuya...who?"

Of course, Dazai is a genius. It does not take long for understanding to reach his eyes, and rage darkens them.

".. I will kill him. I will kill him, this time I will kill him ."

"You’re not going to do anything," Chuuya said authoritatively, taking the head of his partner into his hands. Because he understands the anger that drives him, is in the same state when he remembers what Mori inflicted on Dazai, but he is not a young lady in need of saving, he is an adult man member of the mafia who can defend himself and has already defended himself, and he won’t let Dazai jeopardize the truce between the agency and the mafia anyway.

In reality, he went through a myriad of emotions on his scar. Anger and hatred, fear and disgust too, and finally the shame that for a long time prevented him from meeting the look of the boss.

But Chuuya is no longer afraid and no longer ashamed. He’s not even mad at Mori anymore, at least not for that. (Thinking about what he did to people he loves sometimes makes him want to stick a knife in his belly.)

Mori is a horrible person and nothing will ever excuse his actions towards Dazai, him, or anyone else, and he will never forgive him. However, he is rational enough to know, that like everyone in the mafia, the boss probably lived an abominable childhood and life, and he knows that he had to make choices to, to survive, to reach his position, which made him a monster. That he probably has a long trail of abuse and blood behind him, because he doubts that he started the cycle of abuse. Chuuya understands. It still doesn’t excuse anything, but he can understand that. Mori is his boss and Chuuya will respect and be loyal to him as long as he is. That’s it. This may not be the best way to deal with a man who traumatized you, but Chuuya feels old enough to make his choices, and he chooses the family he made to the mafia, He chooses his life and he chooses not to give this man more importance than he deserves.

That night, he and Dazai became one.

Soon, without him really realizing, Chuuya is 25 years old, and he still does not know if he is human.

He hasn’t thought about his humanity for ages, not even when he sees the scar he has learned to accept. (He is Arahabaki after all, but that’s what he has allowed him to survive until then, so he no longer wants to be ashamed of it.)

He has an appointment with Ane-san to drink tea later, crossed Gin and Tachihara earlier and Akutagawa with Atsushi in town. The bandaged idiot will surely wait for him tonight in their apartment.

He will probably never know if this body, his body, is the product of the union of two people or that of a laboratory experiment, he will probably never know with precision if the god in him condemns any attempt at humanity, if he is a monster or just a boy.

But, strangely, it doesn’t matter as much anymore.

Chuuya is 25 years old, and he chose to be human, and no longer needs proof for that.

He’s finally home.