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Day 5 - Soulmates | Alternate Universe
Dazai was having a pretty shitty day.
First of all, he was exhausted—more so than usual. He had spent most of the night and early morning fretting over his partner, who was still recovering from his usage of corruption the night before, and had completely forgotten to get even an hour of sleep for himself. Thus, his mental walls were far weaker than normal. It had been years since he’d forced himself to stay awake for days on end, he’d allowed himself to get complacent with at least a couple hours sleep during his time at the agency and it showed. To top it all off, he also had a raging headache.
Or at least, he was pretty sure he had a raging headache. It was kind of hard to tell where his own aches and pains began and ended when all he could feel was the intense anger and hatred coming through his soulmate bond. Normally he was able to block it out, have it be a slightly uncomfortable background noise and nothing more, but apparently the bond had sensed the weakness in his defences and taken full advantage of it.
You’d think the worst part about being hated by your soulmate would be just that—being hated by your soulmate. For Dazai, however, it was definitely more the fact that his soulmate had hated him before they’d even had the chance to meet, feeding him with their intense hatred ever since his soulmate bond had first kicked into action at the tender age of seven. He didn’t even know what he’d done to earn his soulmate’s ire. It couldn’t have been any of the stuff he did in the Port Mafia, he hadn’t even joined yet when he was that young.
Well, maybe his mafia links did have some influence, he had noticed the anger and hatred getting more intense as years passed by, flaring to be near unbearable by the time he was eighteen but thankfully dying back down to manageable levels before he’d joined the agency.
Staring at the ceiling, emotionally raw with a pounding headache, Dazai wondered if he’d be able to sneak out of Chuuya’s flat unnoticed. The short mafioso had been alright through the night, and the worst of corruption’s after effects should have definitely worn away by this point…
Forcing himself to get up felt like the most painstaking task he’d ever taken. He was so exhausted, so worn thin by something that everyone he’d ever met had said was supposed to be comforting, that he just wanted to lie down and sleep forever. He couldn’t though, because he was at Chuuya’s, and Chuuya probably wouldn’t take too kindly to Dazai crashing at his place forever. So he stood, and robotically walked himself out of the room he’d been sitting in.
The first thing he noticed was that Chuuya was awake, which came as a bit of a shock to him considering that the man had definitely been fast asleep last time he’d checked on him. He was certain that hadn’t been too long ago…
He mentally noted that he should be more careful about letting time get away from him, there was no use in getting distracted by a soulmate that clearly didn’t want him. Not when he had his partner right there, who actually did care about him.
He watched silently as Chuuya darted around the kitchen, clearly preparing some kind of food for himself. He caught himself forlornly wishing that the ginger had been his soulmate, a thought that wasn’t particularly uncommon for him, but one he quickly stomped out all the same. He already had Chuuya as a partner, he shouldn’t try to ruin him further by intertwining their souls.
Eyeing the door, Dazai considered making a run for it. Maybe Chuuya would forget he’d even been here in the first place, and he could just go to the agency dorms and sleep—sure, Kunikida might throw a fit about him missing work and messing up his schedule, but his coworkers were always going on about how he didn’t sleep enough, so he was sure they’d understand. That was, if he bothered to explain it to them, which he probably wouldn’t…
Just as he’d settled on his plan to leave without notice, about to head for the door, it was immediately foiled.
“Oi, Mackerel, can you pass that plate from over there?”
Damn it.
“Yeah, I got it. Look at me being a responsible owner for my little dog!” He teased as he handed over the delicate plate.
“I’m not your damn dog! Quit calling me that!” A spike of anger shot through the bond in time with Chuuya’s shout.
Oh.
“You say that, but you lost the bet which made you my dog for life!”
Oh no.
“Oh my— get out of my apartment, you bastard mackerel!”
Not like this.
“Aww… but how will Chuuya get all his silly looking plates without me?”
Not Chuuya.
“I’ll manage, now get out! Don’t you have a job you need to be getting to?”
…
“Yeah, but staying with Chuuya is so much more fun!”
Fuck.
“Well I have shit to do too, so unless you’ve suddenly decided to return to the mafia, you should really be leaving. Right now.”
Forget sleeping. Dazai had bigger shit to deal with now than a bit of tiredness.
“Alright… but Chuuya can’t call and say he misses me if I go now like he asks!”
“Wasn’t planning on it!”
Dazai left Chuuya’s apartment with a heavy heart and a numb buzzing in his head. This was so unfair.
He’d known his soulmate had hated him for years, and he was fine with that. Really, he was. He was fine with it because he knew that no matter what that he’d always have Chuuya, but now… if Chuuya really was his soulmate…
He felt so stupid. He’d been hanging around Chuuya constantly for the past however many years, even checking in on him in secret when he was meant to be in hiding, how had he never noticed?
…He’d thought that Chuuya liked him. Or at least that he was fond enough of him to put up with his antics.
When he had wished that Chuuya was his soulmate, this was not what he’d meant! He wanted a soulmate that liked him, not for Chuuya to hate him!
Okay. Sure, he’d been annoying over the years—very annoying—and a bit of a bastard—the worst of the worst—but surely even he deserved at least one living person that didn’t hate his guts. Wasn’t that the whole point of the stupid soulmate system in the first place? Or was he that inhuman that whoever had put him on this earth, forced him to live through this miserable existence, hadn’t seen him as worthy of being loved by the one person who was supposed to know him best.
One might say that if even his soulmate couldn’t bring themselves to care about him, why should anyone else. Maybe he just wasn’t built to be cared about. It sure would explain a lot about his life.
He’d thought that he’d gotten away with the impossible, with having people care about him. Between Chuuya and Odasaku and the Armed Detective Agency, he’d figured that he had gotten off rather lucky, but Odasaku was dead, and if it turned out that Chuuya actually hated him, who’s to say that the agency wasn’t the same? Maybe he just wasn’t as good at reading people as he thought he was.
He was brought out of his spiralling thoughts to the sound of a blaring car horn and tires screeching. He felt a hand on the back of his coat, dragging him out of the road.
He hadn’t even known he’d been walking.
He should probably have been more concerned about that fact than he was, but he was so tired, and now there was someone yelling at him and— oh. It was Chuuya.
Shit.
He knew Chuuya was probably saying something important, but it all was going in through one ear and out the other. All he could feel was the same old overwhelming anger through their bond. Not panic, not fear, not relief that he wasn’t hit. Anger.
Chuuya hated him.
When he came back to himself, he was sat under a tree with a heavy black coat resting over his shoulders.
He blinked once, twice, three times, before giving the coat a little tug. It fell into his arms easily, but he didn’t need to see it to know it was Chuuya’s. He knew the texture of it as intimately as his own skin, and the smell was so obviously that of his partner that he barely registered it as being out of place.
“So. You gonna tell me what that was about, or am I gonna have to guess it myself til I get the right answer?” Dazai nearly jumped out of his skin as his partner’s voice rang out, breaking the silence. Turning to look at him, Dazai could see the concern etched into his features, but he felt none of it. Either Chuuya was a brilliant actor—which he was, but still—or something fishy was going on. Maybe Dazai had jumped the gun, and this was all just a coincidence and Chuuya wasn’t his soulmate and didn’t hate him. Dazai had never wanted to be wrong so badly in his life.
“I thought Chuuya said he was busy.” Dazai tests, feeling out to see if the anger in his bond would spike again.
“Yeah. That was before I watched my soulmate stroll into oncoming traffic like he was going for a walk through the park. Dazai, what the hell were you thinking!?”
Dazai’s world froze. Soulmate. Chuuya had called him his soulmate. Which meant he knew about their bond. How long— why didn’t he tell him? Dazai could practically feel himself shutting down again.
“Honestly, Dazai, do you know how fucking scary it was to feel a sudden wave of grief and misery through our bond, just to look outside and see that!?” Chuuya looked like he was fighting a losing battle to restrain himself from shaking his partner in his incredulity, “I was fucking terrified!”
“No, Chuuya. I don’t know how that feels.” Dazai comments, sounding about as dull as he felt.
“Of course you don’t, you never see me pulling stupid shit like tha—“
“I don’t know what that feels like because all I ever feel through my soul bond is anger and hatred. All the fucking time. Nothing else.”
The uncomfortable silence that settled over the duo was so unbearable that Dazai almost wished he could take back what he said, but he couldn’t. Chuuya looked as baffled as Dazai felt at this whole situation.
“What— hatred? I don’t— Dazai I don’t— I— Dazai, I swear, I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“I dunno Chuuya, it seems pretty simple to me—“
“It’s really not—“
“—all I have ever felt through my soulmate bond is anger and resentment towards me. You are now claiming that we are soulmates. The only logical conclusion is that you hate me.”
“Then the logical conclusion is wrong, because thats not true.”
Dazai felt something snap within him.
“Oh. Its not true is it Chuuya? How the fuck am I supposed to believe that? I— It feels like everything I’ve ever known about us is wrong, that a rug has been ripped out from under me revealing everything to be a lie! So— what am I supposed to do? What am I supposed to believe? That this whole soulmate bond thing is a lie? That this system that has been revered for centuries has been wrong all this time, just because I got a bad hand—?”
“Yes!”
Dazai could’ve sworn that Chuuya was teary-eyed, but the other man looked away before he could determine if it was a trick of the light or not. His soulmate bond clearly wouldn’t tell him, that was for sure.
“Yes…? Yes what?”
“Yes, you’re supposed to believe that its wrong, because it is! I don’t— Dazai, I swear I don’t hate you. I know we argue all the time, and that it can sometimes get nasty, but I swear on everything I have—everything I am, even—that I do not hate you. I swear that I’m not always angry at you, and I don’t know why your end of the bond says I am, but I do know that it’s wrong.”
Dazai remained silent this time, just picking at his fingernails in a half-assed attempt to distract himself.
“Dazai— Osamu, look at me.” Chuuya had never sounded so serious in all the time Dazai had known him, not like this anyways, not when they weren’t in active danger. He can’t help but be compelled to do as he says.
Chuuya grabbed his face, gently resting his hands on Dazai’s cheeks. Dazai thought his heart would beat out of his chest. This was wrong, this was all wrong! Chuuya was looking at him so tenderly, but their bond was still so angry.
“Osamu. I love you. I don’t know what bullshit is being fed to you, what thoughts are racing through your head right now, I just— I need you to know that much.”
“Chuuya—“
“I mean— I thought you already knew, but clearly not, so—“ Dazai cut him off by crashing their lips together.
It wasn’t a particularly pleasant first kiss, but it wasn’t meant to be, Dazai was just so overwhelmed and it was the only thing he could think of to make it all stop.
And it worked.
It worked.
It worked too well.
Their bond was silent. Completely silent. It was as if some raging dragon-demon-god thing had been pacified after centuries of torment. It felt the same as when he nullified Chuuya’s singularity-fuelled corruption—
Oh.
“Chuuya, I’m so fucking stupid…” he whispered as he pulled away, careful to keep his hand on Chuuya’s bare wrist. He wasn’t sure why this… thing… wasn’t nullified through clothes, like he could do with abilities, but he was too relieved to finally be rid of the negative feelings after fifteen whole years that he refused to allow it to come back so easily.
“Huh…? Wha’?” Chuuya fumbled out, and oh.
There it was.
It was so faint compared to what he normally felt, but it was there.
Confusion. Chuuya’s confusion, wrapped in a fuzzy feeling that could only be some form of joy.
He wanted to cry. He didn’t, because he was Dazai, and Dazai never cried, but he wanted to. He wanted to cry, fall asleep, then cry some more.
“My ability. I— I can feel you now…”
Chuuya immediately perked up, and Dazai barely avoided getting knocked over by the other man in his eagerness.
“You can?! Wha— what happened? Why couldn’t you feel it before?!” Chuuya must’ve fired off a good twenty questions by the time Dazai got him to settle down so he could answer any of them.
“I have a theory… that I can only feel your emotions when I’m nullifying your ability.” Dazai started carefully, the last thing he wanted was Chuuya blaming himself for anything, not when he’d just gotten to know how nice it was to feel your soulmate feeling anything positive.
“…Why?”
Shit… Dazai knew that face. The ginger haired man definitely knew something was up…
God— he’d have to go with the brutal truth, wouldn’t he? Damn it.
“I think, and again this is more a theory than anything, that all that anger and hatred I was feeling wasn’t so much from you, as it was your… singularity-god-thingy…”
“Ah yes, my singularity-god-thingy, how articulate.” Chuuya retorted, though he was clearly more ruffled by this than he was letting on.
Dazai let the silence sit between them, both because he wanted to allow Chuuya time to process this, and because he was falling asleep where he sat. He really didn’t want to disturb Chuuya, but he also really didn’t want to fall asleep in public like this, even if this place was quite out of the way.
After the ninth time his head fell forwards with exhaustion, he’d finally had enough, silently noting down to make something nice for Chuuya later to make it up to him.
“Can we go home now…?” He yawned, barely holding himself upright, “I’m exhausted.”
“…”
“…Chuuya?”
“Mackerel, how much sleep did you get last night?”
Ah shit. He was done for.
“Uh…”
“Dazai.”
“Enough…?”
“You were awake the whole time, weren’t you.”
“…yeah.”
“Goddamn it— why didn’t you say anything when I told you to leave this morning?!”
“I’d literally just realised you were soulmate and thought you hated me?”
“…oh.”
“Yeah. Oh.”
“…”
“Okay but seriously, I feel like I’m gonna pass out. So unless you want to carry me home—?”
“I’d carry you home regardless, c’mon dumbass.”
“Wha— oh! Wow, Chuuya’s being so nice to me today!”
“Yeah, yeah. Don’t make me regret it.”
“I would never.”
“…”
“…”
“Did you just fall asleep on me?”
“…”
“…”
“…”
“…Goodnight, Mackerel.”
“…”
“I love you.”
“Mmm… love Ch’ya too…”
“…I should’ve seen that one coming, course you wouldn’t fall asleep that fast.”
“Mmm…”
Dazai woke up the next morning tucked nice and snug into Chuuya’s bed, feeling oddly well rested, and as a bonus, he had a certain slug clinging to his side, purposely keeping skin to skin contact.
He smiled.
They were gonna be alright.