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1.
If someone had asked Chuuya when he was fifteen, he would’ve said that the word ‘friend’ just wasn’t in Dazai’s vocabulary.
There were ‘people he could use’ and ‘useless, therefore boring’ for sure, but friends? Chuuya would’ve happily reported that the Demon Prodigy was simply incapable of the human emotions necessary to be friends with another human.
That is, until he ended up striking up the weirdest friendship known to man with the guy. In fact, most outsiders wouldn’t even call them friends. Mortal enemies or begrudging colleagues seemed to fit better on the surface. But none of those people knew what Dazai looked like under all the bandages, both literal and metaphorical.
Within a year of being partnered, Chuuya had seen just about all of the bits Dazai hid away from the rest of the world, and had shown some of his own in return. It was shockingly therapeutic to have another know those types of things, and it was especially satisfying to Chuuya to know such things about his partner. Not to say their relationship was normal in any way. All the bits that they ended up showing each other had to be pried out after weeks of odd behavior, or spilled like blood in his bathtub after a particularly rough job.
But no matter the method, it lit up some part of Chuuya’s brain that he was the exception. He was the one that saw Dazai, who knew parts of him that he hadn’t told or shown anyone else willingly. Being that person for Dazai was not unlike what he assumed it felt like to be the only one an especially feral cat would allow to pet them. Chosen.
So to say that Chuuya disliked Sakaguchi would be an understatement. And he didn’t even want to think about the redhead. Well, the other redhead. Chuuya took no small amount of pleasure in the fact that he was the first ginger Dazai had met.
There was absolutely no reason those two should be all over Dazai that Chuuya could think of that wasn’t them being pedophiles. And so it falls to Chuuya as Dazai’s partner to make sure nothing of the sort happened. Sure Dazai could take care of himself under normal circumstances, but he’s practically obsessed with the older men, and as such is incapable of being rational.
Which is how Chuuya finds himself sat outside some dingy bar in the middle of the night, with Dazai standing over him, looking for all accounts like this is the funniest thing that’s ever happened to him. Chuuya wants to strangle him. So what if he’d followed Dazai to this bar, what did it even matter?
“This is low, even for someone like Chibi~” Dazai’s grin is nearly splitting his face, and Chuuya is again struck with the desire to just crush his bandage-covered throat. But more than that, he feels the need to defend his actions. If he could just make Dazai understand, he’d stop hanging out with those creeps, and he’d have the other all to himself. And Dazai would be safe from pedophiles, of course. He just needed to explain that all to his partner in a neutral, clear and concise way, without coming across as some jealous idiot.
“Oh well excuse me for not wanting my partner to get molested or some shit. Do whatever you want.”
Shit.
That sounded far less neutral when he said it out loud.
Dazai’s grin faltered ever so slightly, and his eyes narrowed. He was thinking, which was never a good thing for Chuuya.
Eventually, his grin toned down into a smirk, and he patted Chuuya’s head condescendingly. “Don’t worry, Chibi is still my dog for life! It’s natural such a loyal doggie would be so clingy~” Dazai all but cooed the words out, and as much as Chuuya wanted to pummel him into the ground for saying them, they did settle him a bit.
But clingy wasn’t the word Chuuya would use. Clingy would imply that Chuuya was dependent on Dazai, and that wasn’t why he was pissed at all. It was just that Dazai is his friend, and nobody else seemed to understand that Chuuya knew him the best.
Maybe Dazai wasn’t the only weird one in this partnership.
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2.
Most organizations that have the balls to stand against the Port Mafia are horrifically, and often fatally, stupid. Of course, there was the occasional group that could actually pose a threat, but they were often underprepared for the devastation Double Black would rain down on them. But those groups were few and far between. Most are just dumb.
In any other respect, Chuuya is glad that the majority of foes they face are moronic, as it makes them laughably easy to deal with. But all of the dumbass groups they deal with all seem to come up with the same dumbass plan. It’s like they’re connected through a sort of dumbass hive mind.
Because all of them think that kidnapping the Demon Prodigy is the way to go.
It isn’t. It never is, and yet Dazai keeps letting it happen. Chuuya is fully convinced that he only allows it because he thinks it’s funny to watch For the Tainted Sorrow crush people into liquid. He’d even once compared it to a juicer, which had been an image that had stuck with Chuuya for far longer than his pride cared to admit.
There’s a part, now steadily growing, of Chuuya that thinks that Dazai is setting up all these kidnappings with the sole purpose of pissing him off, or even just getting his attention. Especially now. They’d had a bet going about how long Chuuya could ignore Dazai. It had come about when Dazai had teased him about being obsessed, and that particular argument had spiraled into Chuuya completely ignoring Dazai’s presence for a week.
It had only taken a day before Dazai had started to actively sabotage Chuuya. He had started with just being annoying, but that had devolved into falling in front of him, feigning sickness, and even some impressively realistic tears. But Chuuya had stayed strong through all of that. The closest he had come to breaking was on day four, when Dazai took advantage of the fact that some of the lower level members were too new to realize how insane the Demon Prodigy is. He’d found some grunt with too much confidence and staged it so Chuuya would walk in right as the idiot was trying to convince Dazai to go out with her. Chuuya really hadn’t liked the look of smug determination on Dazai’s face when he saw that it had almost worked.
So there was an extremely good chance Dazai had completely fabricated this kidnapping so as to make him lose their bet. Chuuya knew that. He also knew that Dazai wasn’t called the Demon Prodigy for nothing, and could absolutely get out without any help whatsoever.
And yet here he stood, in some decrepit old warehouse, with the walls newly painted crimson.
And Dazai, in the middle of it all, yet completely devoid of any of the gore that covered the walls, the floor, even the ceiling. There was something oddly poetic about it, but Chuuya’s brain was far too cloudy to put the pieces together. Dazai was in front of him, and that’s all that really mattered.
Not a drop of blood had been allowed to land on Chuuya, a fact that was very much intentional. It meant he was free to sling the lanky mackerel over his shoulder without chancing some nobody's blood getting on his partner. And carrying Dazai ensured he wouldn't step in any. Chuuya truly couldn’t care less that No Longer Human allowed blood to splash up on to his own shoes, not when it meant that none of the people that would forever stay in this room would ever get to touch Dazai again.
Chuuya was grateful that he’d come alone, as he was sure that was the only reason Dazai wasn’t actively fighting against being carried. But unfortunately, that did not make him exempt from the other’s smart mouth.
“I knew it! I won the bet, I knew Chibi was obsessed with me!” Dazai wasn’t even trying to hide the smugness in his voice, as if he hadn’t specifically arranged this scenario. But for the first time, Chuuya was content to just let him. Even though he wasn’t obsessed, just a good partner.
But as Dazai repeated those last words over and over in a sing-songy voice, something that should’ve made him furious, Chuuya could do nothing but smile.
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3.
Unfortunately for Chuuya, the four years apart did little to change how he felt about Dazai. Was he unimaginably pissed at him for leaving, and for blowing up Chuuya’s car while he was at it? Yes. Did any part of him want to just pick up where they had left off with no repercussions? Absolutely not. But his knee jerk reaction to seeing Dazai hanging off different members of the Agency was still exactly the same as it would’ve been four years ago.
And that smug bastard knew it.
The Port Mafia and the Detective Agency were technically allies now, but surely no one would really mind if Chuuya just killed Dazai. Lord knows it would make his life easier.
How was Chuuya supposed to work with these people when all he can imagine is twisting their hands until they become mangled unusable messes because they’ve touched Dazai. And his traitorous brain keeps whispering that he’d need to get rid of the doctor first, to make sure she wouldn’t be able to heal any of her colleagues.
The more logical part of his brain recognizes that maiming the entire Detective Agency is a very bad look for him as an executive. Plus, it would completely demolish any grounds he had to make a claim about no longer giving a shit about Dazai.
At first, Chuuya’s ire had been directed at Kunikida. But Dazai had called Chuuya partner after the mess with Lovecraft, and that had— annoyingly— evaporated the majority of his anger toward the blonde. His brain was too busy preening like some sort of house cat at the fact that Dazai still considered them partners. Which is absolutely idiotic considering Dazai was the one that left.
But speaking of house cats, the Agency’s resident one was getting on his last nerve.
The kid looked at Dazai with honest to god stars in his eyes, and it pissed Chuuya off to no end. Not only because Dazai did nothing to stop it, but also because it reminded him heavily of the way Dazai used to look at Oda.
Chuuya’s only real consolation is that the kid clearly didn’t know much about Dazai, or he’s sure that look wouldn’t be quite so adoring. And that with Oda dead and buried, Chuuya had no competition when it came to who knew Dazai best. It was unquestionably him.
“Something funny, Chuuya?”
Fuck. He must have been smiling or something, like some sort of creep if it was enough to make Dazai comment on it. Chuuya had completely forgotten Dazai was even there. He’d gotten used to conducting stakeouts alone over the past four years, and was still adjusting to doing them with Dazai again. But now that the other had clocked that something was on Chuuya’s mind, he wouldn’t drop it until he found out.
“Just that you’ve got the entire Agency fooled with that dumbass act of yours. The weretiger practically worships the ground you walk on.”
…Even to his own ears, that last sentence came out bitter. There was absolutely no way Dazai hadn’t picked up on it. He almost didn’t even want to look at the other. But his eyes acted independent of his brain.
The expression on Dazai’s face could only be called considering. Maybe a touch of confusion, but whatever he found by looking at Chuuya’s face cleared that up in an instant, leaving nothing but a strange sort of fondness. It was weird. That wasn’t a look Dazai ever wore, and it made Chuuya’s hackles raise.
If Dazai started to say anything that could be considered emotional, Chuuya would officially believe that this wasn’t the same Dazai. In which case he could just dropkick the imposter off a building and be done with it, garnering himself all the satisfaction of the act without actually having to deal with the repercussions of killing Dazai.
But fortunately— or perhaps unfortunately— Dazai did no such thing. In fact, the fondness migrated to just his eyes, leaving his lips free to pull into a shit eating grin.
“Don’t tell me, Chuuya is jealous? I can’t help it that I’m such a good mentor, but I’m sure Chibi will find someone looking for bad fashion advice that he can pass his wisdom to.” Dazai’s words come out somewhat trembling, though that is likely more due to the way Chuuya is shaking him than any sort of emotion.
For such a genius, Dazai could be damn stupid sometimes.
But Chuuya wouldn’t complain. Anything to avoid having to tell Dazai that he wasn’t jealous of him.
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+1
The last thing Chuuya remembered was Akutagawa entering his office. He had assumed that the boy was there to give some sort of report, or summons from the Boss.
It wasn’t until he’d felt fangs in his neck that he’d realized he was mistaken. But by then it was far too late.
Consciousness had returned to him much like waking up after Corruption. As in, with no recollection of going under, and in a completely different place. But when his eyes had opened and taken in the sight before him, it had felt like being dropped into a nightmare.
And it was a nightmare Chuuya was all too familiar with. He’d woken up many times before with images like that seared onto the back of his eyelids. Dazai hanging from a ceiling fan, Dazai dripping wet and breathless with blue lips, Dazai covered in blood from a lucky shot on the battlefield.
But in none of those nightmares had Chuuya been the one to Dazai in that state. It was a mercy Chuuya didn’t even realize the universe had granted him, and thus one he had taken for granted.
He knew now why his subconscious hadn’t ever proffered that scenario, even in the throes of his worst night terrors.
Because it knew he’d never be able to handle it.
And it was right. Chuuya just lay there, curled up around Dazai’s steadily cooling body, feeling every bit like the dog he’d been called throughout their youth. He was soaked through with blood, blood that he knew came from the wound in Dazai’s forehead. It was tacky and cold now, matting his hair down. The areas with less blood were dry and itchy, and Chuuya would’ve scratched his skin off were he not terrified to let go of the other.
Dazai was limp in a way that made Chuuya want to scream. His entire body was just still, but Chuuya couldn’t simply close his eyes and pretend his mackerel was sleeping. Because even then Dazai had never been so motionless. He’d been an absolute menace to share a bed with, the way he just threw his entire body around when he wanted to adjust. They’d only shared a few times in the past, for missions mostly, and Chuuya feels the loss like a physical stabbing pain in his chest.
He’d never get the chance to share a bed with him for real. Never get the chance to wake Dazai up by shoving him off the bed, or even just look at him in the moments before he falls asleep.
Well. Chuuya is sure he’ll see Dazai’s face every night before he falls asleep, but not in the way he wanted.
..
Chuuya isn’t sure if he’s glad to not have heard Dazai’s last words. It’d just be another thing to haunt him for the rest of his life. But on the other hand, he’ll never know what Dazai was thinking in his last moments.
Was he scared of Chuuya? Disappointed? Had he tried to get through to him and failed? Or was he glad? Content with the fact that Chuuya was finally giving him what he had longed for since before they had ever met. Or maybe just happy Chuuya was putting him out of his misery, what with the several other gunshot wounds he saw on Dazai’s body before he collapsed to the floor.
He liked to think that Dazai had somehow known that Chuuya wasn’t in control, that he didn’t want to do it. Dazai was smart like that.
Even when he’d been wrong, he was always right. Dazai had called Chuuya clingy, and obsessive, and jealous. And every time he’d been wrong. But Chuuya would say he was right, he’d admit to all of that and far more if it meant Dazai would be there to gloat about it. Dazai was wily like that too. Staging his death just to make Chuuya admit he was in love with him. Sounds about right. If… when Dazai miraculously comes back Chuuya will beat the shit out of him for this stunt.
He just needed to wait. Chuuya’s nothing if not a loyal dog, after all.