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Day 7 - Free Day
Dazai really should’ve expected this.
It all started with him hearing a weak meowing as he passed a small alleyway. Normally he would’ve ignored such a thing, but he was bored, and in no hurry to get back to his paperwork, so he decided to check it out.
Fully prepared for an ambush, he was surprised to see only a cardboard box, soggy from the heavy downpour earlier that day.
He paused, remembering a prank he’d recently pulled on his redhead partner. This wouldn’t be something like that, would it? If he opened this box, would he find some creep pretending to be an animal in there?
He was aware of the irony in calling someone doing the exact thing he’d done a creep, but he justified it in his head by saying that he was less creepy, as his was a targeted prank for a person he already knew. If this box was hiding someone doing the same thing, they were worse than he was because they were targeting completely random and unsuspecting strangers.
With that reassurance in his mind he slowly edged his way towards the cardboard box, hand outstretched to flip open the flaps from as far away as he could get. He needed distance, just in case this really was a creep or an ambush.
He couldn’t help but cringe as the texture of wet cardboard brushed against his fingers. He was used to dealing with disgusting things on a day-to-day basis, his job basically required it, but even during his mafia days he’d never really gotten over how gross certain things felt to the touch. He much preferred to avoid the parts of his jobs that involved interacting with peculiar objects, passing them off onto someone else whenever he got the chance.
“This is really gross y’know.” Dazai commented, waiting for some weirdo to pop out of the box, dressed up like a cat.
He waited.
And waited.
And waited.
After realising that no one was going to pop out anytime soon, he slowly inched his way towardw the box, peering over to try and get a look without being in direct line of fire. One could never be too careful, after all. He’d rather not meet his end by a weapon hidden in a soggy box, that would be both painful and embarrassing. Not an ideal way to go at all.
To his surprise, he didn’t see the hair of a human, or the glint of a gun, no. Instead his eyes landed on a small puff of fur. He stared uncomprehendingly at the ball of black fluff, almost falling back in shock as he realised that amongst the fur were two big brown eyes staring back at him. The thing slowly uncurled, meowing curiously as it went to put its two paws on the side of the box’s walls so it could gain a little height. It’s dreams of seeing more were frantically crushed however, and Dazai could barely restrain a small laugh as he watched the small kitten scramble back, letting out a distressed yowl as it’s paw touched the soggy cardboard.
“You don’t like the feel of that stuff either, huh?” Dazai mused, a lot more at ease now that he’d found the true source of the noise. The kitten scrunched up its nose indignantly, as if it could understand his words, staring up at him expectantly. Dazai raised an eyebrow, and the cat quickly became impatient, meowing for attention when it didn’t get what it wanted.
Dazai wanted to let it go on the record that he was not susceptible to the wiles of a stray kitty.
Yes, he had picked the fussy thing up, and yes, he’d immediately started cooing at it, tickling under its chin with his finger, but that was entirely because it was what he wanted to do. It had nothing to do with the kitten looking up at him with it’s big pitiful eyes. Definitely not. He surely didn’t take pity on it because of the way it shivered, and how it clearly hadn’t eaten much recently.
No.
He’d brought the cat with him of his own volition. He didn’t have a weak spot for cats. He didn’t!
Thats why he definitely didn’t hide the kitten inside one of his inner pockets to bring it into the agency dorms, nor did he painstakingly cook a small meal for it on his basically unused stove.
…He really hoped it was okay for cats to eat tinned fish.
Keeping an eye on his new companion, Dazai settled on his futon to contemplate what the hell he was supposed to do next.
His first dilemma was quite a glaring issue. That being, the agency dorms didn’t allow pets. At all. Under any circumstances.
He remembered joking about how lucky they’d been to be able to house atsushi there in an attempt to fluster the new recruit. This must’ve been some sort of karma for that. Of course him joking about the weretiger being a cat would come back to bite him in the form of an actual cat. Of course it would.
Falling deeper into contemplation, he frowned at the realisation that even if he did manage to keep the kitten hidden, he was hardly the ideal owner. He could barely look after himself! How was he meant to look after a whole other living being, with wants and needs of its own, if he could barely meet his own needs without outside influence?
Brought out of his thoughts by his new pet scratching at his trouser leg, meowing to be picked up again, he came to a conclusion. There was only one solution to his problem.
He could only hope this wouldn’t end with him and his furry little friend being kicked to the curb.
-x-
If anyone asked, Dazai would say that the position he was in was completely intentional on his part. At which point one would have to remember that Dazai is, in fact, a massive liar. Dangling half-way out of a window on the top floor of one of the largest residential buildings in Yokohama was not how he’d planned to spend his afternoon, but as time crept by it seemed more and more likely that he’d be there until sundown. With his cat cradled safely in his arms, and his legs kicking not so safely in the outside air, Dazai had nothing to do but curse himself for his stupidity.
Of course it would be more difficult to break into Chuuya’s flat with a cat in his arms, he couldn’t do half the manoeuvres he usually did to sneak in!
Normally, he would scale the fire escape, shimmy over to one of the open windows to Chuuya’s flat, and push himself through. This time, he’d forgotten to take into account that his arms would be full and he wouldn’t be able to push himself through without dropping his companion, something he wasn’t willing to risk no matter how agile cats could be.
He must’ve been stuck there for hours by the time his partner got home, and it was quite frankly a miracle that the petite mafioso hadn’t noticed him before entering the building.
Unfortunately for Dazai, this meant that he had to sit tight for a painful few minutes whilst Chuuya laughed his ass off about the brunet’s newfound misfortune. It was only after the black ball of fluff in his arms started meowing impatiently that the short man finally calmed down enough to assess the situation.
He almost got set off again when Dazai hissed at the same time as the cat as Chuuya lifted it out of his arms so he could help him through.
“So…” Chuuya raised a brow at Dazai as he passed him a mug of hot chocolate, knowing that the man would need something warm in him after being stuck in the cold air for so long.
“So?”
“…Dazai.”
“What? I haven’t done anything, I swear!”
“Getting stuck half-way through my window isn’t ‘nothing’, sweetheart.”
Dazai pouted, grumbling something about Chuuya being mean, and how he should be able to figure it out himself.
The mafioso sighed, setting his coat on the back of his chair and scooping up the nearby cat, who had been curiously batting a tasseled blanket.
“You gonna explain what this is about,” he bounced the cat for emphasis, “or am I going to have to complain to the front desk that a mysterious man has broken into my flat. Again.”
Shit. Chuuya definitely looked less amused than he had when pulling Dazai in.
“…Agency dorms don’t allow pets.”
“Uh-huh… and what does that have to do with me?”
“I was hoping…” Dazai bit his lip in a tell of nervousness that he’d only display around the people he trusted most, “…that you could, maybe, possibly, help me look after it.”
“And?”
“And take it in.”
“Right. Of course you’d visit for something dumb like that.”
“It’s not dumb—!”
“Yes it is! God, why don’t you ever visit for me huh?”
Dazai couldn’t tell if the other man was just teasing, or genuinely annoyed at him.
“…I do visit just for Chuuya.”
“Sure.” He didn’t look convinced.
Signs were pointing towards genuine annoyance, which sucked for Dazai, because he really needed Chuuya to agree, and he didn’t want his lover to be mad at him.
“Do you even know what gender this thing is?” Chuuya squinted, lifting the cat above him as if it would reveal life’s mysteries to him. “Where’d you get it, anyways?”
Ah.
Dazai hadn’t thought far enough ahead.
Now he had to admit that he’d found the poor thing and an alley, and whilst Chuuya was a bit of a bleeding heart when it came to animals and the like, Dazai was not in the least bit convinced that the man would be happy about the potential for the creature in his hands to be infested with fleas.
“Dazai? C’mon, I don’t have all day, where’d you get her?”
“Her?”
“Yeah, ‘her’. She’s a girl.” Chuuya gave him a look as he went back to petting the small kit, as if daring him to keep straying off-topic.
“…a box.”
“Oh yeah, real informative of you there, bandage-waster. Where was the box?”
“…in an alleyway…?”
“…”
“…”
“Please tell me you cleaned her before coming here…”
He hadn’t, but at least Chuuya wasn’t blowing up at him like he’d expected. Maybe he could pull this off!
“Dazai! Focus! Was she washed or not?”
“…not.”
“Fucking course she wasn’t.” Chuuya groaned, passing the kitten back to Dazai whilst cursing under his breath.
“She’s a good girl, really—“ Dazai attempted to ease the older man’s temper
“Yeah, I’m sure she is. I’m not worried about that! What I’m worried about is her possibly carrying fleas, or diseases, or whatever else into, what, both of our homes? Did you take her to a vet, at least?”
Dazai didn’t even need to talk for Chuuya to know the answer.
“Of course you didn’t. God, Dazai, you don’t half make this shit difficult.”
Wisely, Dazai chose to remain silent as his partner rang a number, presumably that of a vet, instead choosing to entertain the cat that was clawing at his bolo tie.
Chuuya had been on the phone for a good thirty minutes by the time the cat finally tired of Dazai’s clothes, instead opting to nose at his finger. Silently, Dazai worried about what was taking so long, but he ultimately pinned it down to vet appointments being a lot more complicated than he assumed they’d be.
When Chuuya finally hung up, Dazai couldn’t help but breathe a sigh of relief. The cat had been eyeing his fingers like her next meal for the past few minutes, and he wasn’t sure he could distract her for much longer. He’d rather not get bitten, thank you very much.
“We have an appointment with the vet this Saturday, it was the earliest they could book us in, because it’s not an emergency or whatever. They’re gonna do a bunch of basic shit, scan her to see if she’s microchipped, the lot.” Chuuya explained, wrapping his arms around Dazai’s shoulders from behind, resting his head atop of his messy hair.
“…that’s good, yeah?”
“Yeah. Might mean we find her original owners and can wipe our hands clean of this ordeal,” Dazai frowned at that, “or—don’t give me that look Mackerel—or it means we could officially take her in as our own. Depends on the results really.”
A comfortable silence rests over the duo as they watch the cat, newly released to the floor, dart between the table legs, rubbing against them with a pleased purr.
“…she looks healthy enough, don’t you think?” Dazai hummed, relaxing into Chuuya’s embrace.
“Yeah. She does.”
After a couple more minutes of watching the cat in silence, Chuuya slowly got up, letting out an exaggerated groan as he stretched his limbs.
“Well. I’m gonna check what products are safest for a cat to bathe in, then we’ll handle that. You can keep an eye on her, yeah?”
“Yeah…”
Chuuya waited, sensing that the man wanted to say something more.
“You’re not… you’re not mad at me are you? Like— like actually mad?”
“No…?”
“Right. Its just— earlier— when you said about me never coming over just for you— y’know?”
“Oh. That.”
“Yeah…”
“…I’m not mad.”
“You sure?”
“Well not if you keep asking I won’t be!” He chuckled.
Dazai wasn’t as amused.
“…Yes, Dazai. I’m sure that I’m not actually mad at you,” he paused, “not actively, at least. Not over anything like that.”
Dazai accepted that answer, nodding silently as he turned back to their new kitten. Hopefully their new kitten, at least. Though with the way he’d found her, he doubted there’d be anyone rushing to claim her even if she was microchipped.
“…Love you, Mackerel.”
“…”
“…”
“Love you too, slug.”