Archive of Our Own

Kunikida looks into the sky, eyes darting back and forth, his fists clenched and shoulders tense, until he spots a helicopter in the distance. 

“Thank God,” Atsushi whispers beside him, and he couldn’t agree more. 

After things have somewhat calmed down and the Agency reunited, they got Ango to check on the status of the Meursault prisoners. Ango had not been able to access any of the cameras, and he mentioned that one of the towers was completely destroyed. When he said that, the Agency automatically assumed the worst. 

Ranpo had cut in then to say that Dazai was fine, but even then, Kunikida was unable to relax. Who knows what that idiot is going to come back with? Probably a knife wound or something. Maybe a severed limb. Maybe a severed limb that isn’t his.

Anyway, the Agency is waiting on the helipad above the airport. They back off when the helicopter comes closer and lands, rotor blades spinning furiously until they slowly come to a stop. When the doors open, Dazai’s head pops out. 

“Dazai-san!” Atsushi yells, dashing forward, but another hand pops into frame and stops Atsushi by the chest. The hand is strong enough that Atsushi stumbles back upon impact, which is pretty impressive. 

“Chill out, Weretiger. He’s injured.”

A lock of ginger hair comes into view and Kunikida sighs deeply. Of course. 

Dazai grumbles in an over dramatic manner. “Chuuya is always so annoying. After he almost killed me with—”

“I saved you, dipshit!”

They continue arguing as Dazai shifts, Atsushi supporting him. Kunikida notices the makeshift splint on Dazai’s leg, made of metal bent in ways it really shouldn’t be. He assumes Chuuya must have used his ability to create it. 

“Did you get shot in the head?” Kyouka interrupts their argument as Dazai comes closer, the Agency careful with the hugs they give him. A maniac grin spreads on Dazai’s face and Chuuya covers his face with a loud groan. 

“Funny story, Kyouka-chan! Did you know—”

Dazai begins recounting their adventure and how he almost died maybe seven times in a few hours. Chuuya disappears into the helicopter while this happens. Kunikida can’t find it in himself to pay attention to Dazai’s story, distracted by who knows what. When Chuuya reappears, he’s carrying a body. 

“Who’s that?” Yosano asks with a frown. 

“None of your business,” Chuuya mutters. “Where’s the vampire?”

“Bram? He’s with Aya somewhere in the first terminal.”

“Okay. If one of you could bring me to him?”

“I’ll do it,” Kunikida says the moment he hears Aya’s name. He’d like an excuse to go check on her anyway. Chuuya glances at him in surprise, then nods. 

“Don’t shoot Kunikida-kun, Chuuya!” Dazai calls as they turn to leave, and Chuuya bares his fangs (when did he have those?) at him threateningly. 

Kunikida heads to the airport terminal where Bram and Aya are at. They’re settling things with Akutagawa right now, though Kunikida doesn’t know the details. Chuuya follows behind him relatively quickly, considering he’s carrying someone twice his size. 

Kunikida attempts to look discreetly at the person he’s carrying. Their eyes are wide open and rolled over and their hair falls over their shoulder, brushing the ground. Kunikida must not be very discreet, though, because Chuuya gives him a look before sighing. 

“This is Sigma. They’re part of the Decay of Angels. I’d like to bring them to Bram to see if he knows what’s wrong with them.”

“What’s wrong?”

“They touched Dostoevsky before this. I’m not sure why that bitch chose not to kill them, though, but they’ve been stuck like this since then.”

Kunikida hums. Upon closer inspection, he swears he sees a glimpse of red on Sigma's otherwise white and lilac hair. "Are they bleeding?"

Chuuya grimaces. "Don't ask."

Yikes. Kunikida doesn’t want to delve into the ethics of this whole thing right now. “I see. Aren’t they… heavy? But I suppose with your ability…”

Chuuya snorts. “I’m not using my ability, dumbass.”

And isn’t that an implication. Kunikida restrains himself from asking an unsolicited question about whether Chuuya could carry him without using his ability and clears his throat. He reminds himself that Chuuya is a Port Mafia Executive and could kill him right now should he choose to. That doesn’t really help. 

“Right. Okay. Anyway, they should be in there.” Kunikida gestures to the sliding doors ahead of them, nodding. “Nakahara-san—”

Chuuya fake gags, cutting him off. “Don’t even. Call me Chuuya or don’t call me anything at all.”

“That’s quite impolite of me.”

“Okay, Kunikida-kun. I don’t care. What is it, though?”

Kunikida pushes aside his pride, taking a deep breath. “Well… I’d like to thank you.” 

Chuuya has the gall to look startled after all that bullshit about not caring. “Eh?”

Kunikida bows deeply—as far as he can manage, with a hand placed on his chest. Chuuya makes a noise of surprise. “Thank you for looking out for Dazai. And for assisting the Agency throughout this whole thing. When we’re back on our feet, I’ll make sure to repay you as best as we can.”

Chuuya remains silent, which makes Kunikida look up with a confused frown. When he does, he sees Chuuya staring at him with his mouth hanging open. Chuuya’s face contorts, looking a mix of embarrassed, angry and… something else Kunikida can’t place. 

“Chuuya-san? Are you feeling alright?”

“I said it’s just Chuuya, dimwit!” he snaps, gritting his teeth. He doesn’t really succeed, considering his fangs that get in the way. Chuuya turns away, huffing loudly. “You broke Agency losers couldn’t repay me anyway.”

He all but stomps off, still holding Sigma effortlessly in his arms, and Kunikida watches him go with something akin to glee in his eyes. 

He suddenly recalls that he was here to see Aya and mentally slaps himself, checking his watch. The glass covering is cracked and the whole thing is broken, which is unfortunate. Deciding that his schedule for the next month is already irreversibly fucked, he chooses to ignore it and hurries after Chuuya. 

Unbeknownst to himself, there is a smile on Kunikida’s face. 

The next month is an utterly hectic mess. 

They start off with rebuilding the Agency so that they would have a place to go. It takes a huge chunk out of their monthly budget, which Kunikida is a little irritated about. The government didn’t have to destroy the entire office on their hunt for them. 

Sigma has been placed under Yosano’s care and remains in the Agency’s infirmary. Her ability wasn’t working on them, which is a bit concerning, so they’re just sitting around waiting for Sigma to wake up. 

A lot of diplomatic appellations are made. The moment the office was rebuilt, they were swamped with visitors and apology gifts. Fukuzawa hadn’t wanted to attend to any of it. Kunikida and Ranpo did most of the talking, though it was more like Kunikida subtly trying to close the door and Ranpo seeing how fast he can kick these people out of their office. 

Dazai’s leg is still healing, but at least he didn’t suffer any life-changing injuries to the head. A fucking miracle, honestly. Him and Chuuya must be really good at the whole fake bullet thing. Kunikida doesn’t want to know how often they practised it. 

The kids are put on indefinite leave until things calm down. Kunikida doesn’t want any of them working at a time like this. Kenji spends most of his time with Tetchou, which Kunikida was extremely wary about, but after a few weeks he decided to let it be. Atsushi, Kyouka, and the Tanizakis chose to help out at the café downstairs, though Kunikida suspects they’re just there to gossip with Lucy. But as long as they’re resting, he doesn’t mind. 

Fukuchi’s funeral is planned by Teruko and is an extremely small gathering. The only Agency members who went were Fukuzawa and Ranpo. They come back with sombre expressions and nobody says a thing. 

There’s also the issue of having a tall vampire occasionally hanging around their office because his coffin has been destroyed and there’s nowhere else for him to go. That hasn’t been settled yet. Kunikida is also looking into getting Aya out of her home, but he hasn’t had the time to do that—

“Kunikida,” someone calls, snapping him out of his thoughts. He realises he’s been scribbling nonsensically into his notebook and he isn’t writing any real words at this point. 

Kunikida holds back a weary sigh and looks up, realising that it was Ranpo who called him. “Ah… yes?”

“Your hands are shaking. You should take a break.”

He flushes, not realising he’s been caught. He’s about to argue back when Ranpo gives him a deadpan stare, which is a pretty rare occurrence. That shuts him up quickly. 

Ranpo pulls his drawer open and throws a lollipop over. Kunikida fails to catch it, watching it thump heavily on his desk. “You haven’t eaten since yesterday. Go get a meal. It’s going to be dinner soon.”

“What?” Kunikida looks at his wrist, then curses under his breath when he realises that he hasn’t replaced his broken watch yet. He looks up, the Agency’s clock showing that it’s nearing 5pm. “Oh. Maybe I’ll squeeze it in later—”

“Nope. Do it now. If you want to feel productive…” Ranpo grabs a piece of paper from the stack on his desk and stands up, walking over. He slaps the paper onto Kunikida’s table. “You can run some errands. After you eat.”

Kunikida picks up the piece of paper. It’s a shopping list, consisting mostly of office supplies that they need to replenish. He sighs. “Okay. I’ll do that.”

“Mhm. Get yourself a new watch too while you’re at it.”

“That’s too expensive, Ranpo-san,” Kunikida says with a tired laugh. “It’s not a priority right now.”

“Whatever! At least take a look. Oh, see if the shop can repair your watch.” 

That’s… not a bad suggestion. Kunikida can’t believe he didn't think of that. He nods, muttering a thank you and standing up, stretching his stiff bones. 

As he leaves the office, Kunikida realises how hungry he is. He hurries to town where the things he needs to get will be and picks a random restaurant. And he probably should eat his noodles slower, but now that he’s outside, Kunikida doesn’t want to waste a second of time. 

He speedruns the shopping list all in an hour, then stops by a different store to get Aya some new shoes. Kunikida knows he doesn’t have to, but her shoes got pretty battered up since the airport incident, and she deserves to wear some nice sneakers after all she’s been through, and he can squeeze it into his budget for sure! He just needs to push getting new glasses back another two months. They were dented during the battle and keep slipping off his face, but it’s really not the most pressing issue. 

Lastly, Kunikida heeds Ranpo’s advice and heads to the store he got his watch from. He won’t admit it, but it’s been messing him up a little in terms of organisation and routine. 

When he enters the store, he bumps into somebody. “Sorry, I didn’t see you—” he begins, but cuts himself off when he sees a familiar black hat. 

The person takes a step back and looks up with a harsh glare, revealing none other than Nakahara Chuuya of the Port Mafia. “You didn’t see me? I’ll let you see my fist next.”

Kunikida blinks. Recognition fills Chuuya’s eyes and he laughs in disbelief. “Oh, it’s you.”

“It’s me,” Kunikida agrees lamely. Chuuya’s presence reminds him of the fact that he hasn’t dealt with the Agency and Mafia issue yet. Fukuzawa and Mori both called for a truce, but the official paperwork isn’t done, which means another thing added to his schedule. Time is ticking. “Sorry. I have places to be, so I’ll see you when we have another official meeting.”

“Eh… I don’t think I’ll be there. Ane-san is dealing with you Agency losers,” Chuuya replies, folding his arms across his chest. “Why are you here? I didn’t think your finances could afford a place like this.”

Kunikida grimaces. Any other day, he’d refuse to be caught interacting with someone of the Mafia. It goes completely against his ideals. But, well, everything’s still a big mess, so what’s one more to add to the list? “I’ve had this watch for over seven years. It broke, so I’m here to see if they can repair it.”

Chuuya looks at his wrist and his lips curl downwards in judgement. “Hm… I don’t think you can fix that one, pretty boy. It’s probably easier to buy a new one.”

Ignoring the fact that Chuuya called him pretty boy, Kunikida clicks his tongue. “You said it yourself that we don’t have the finances for that. If you think it’s a lost cause, then I’ll just make do without it. Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m really busy.”

He turns, ready to leave the store, but a gloved hand catching his wrist makes him freeze in his tracks. He stares at Chuuya with wide eyes, who barks out a laugh. “Don’t look so flabbergasted! I don’t bite. I’ll get you a new watch.”

Kunikida thinks he has every right to look as flabbergasted as he wants. “You what? I refuse.”

“Why, because I’m from the Mafia? My income is still real money, you know.”

“Wh— yes because you’re from the Mafia, actually! We’re not friends! I shouldn’t even be talking to you! I’ve wasted—” he looks at his wrist out of instinct and immediately feels like sinking into a hole— “um, time. I’ve wasted so much time standing here chatting with an enemy. I should really go.”

Chuuya levels him with a look, and when he opens his mouth again, Kunikida notices the fangs are gone. They looked pretty real. He wonders how he even got them on. “Huh. Okay. I don’t consider you an enemy, though.”

Kunikida pauses. He supposes that after everything, they’re not enemies anymore. They haven’t been enemies in a long time. In fact, standing here with Chuuya, tired and defenceless, he doesn’t feel an ounce of fear. 

Kunikida clears his throat, nodding. “Right, I apologise. I’m still very busy. There’s lots to do at the Agency.”

Chuuya rolls his eyes. He’s still holding on to Kunikida’s wrist. “Like getting Dazai to do his paperwork, huh?”

Kunikida’s lips quirk up. “Part of it, yes.”

“By the way, your glasses are bent weirdly. You should get them changed.”

Any amusement that Kunikida was feeling vanishes into thin air. “What— that is none of your business.”

“Can you even see? That lens is scratched.”

“It is not any of your concern!” His voice cracks.

“It’s a genuine question, don’t look so high-strung. Relax.”

Kunikida wants to throw Chuuya out the window. He believes that with enough rage and the element of surprise, it would be possible. But he’s a respectful and good citizen of Yokohama, so he doesn’t.

The moment Chuuya lets go of his wrist, Kunikida leaves the store in haste, face burning. He doesn’t know what he expected, but he decides that Nakahara Chuuya is one tiny, infuriating man. 

Kunikida enters the office the next day at 7am sharp, not exactly well-rested but not as exhausted as he was yesterday either. He opens the door and is surprised to find Kenji inside, seated on his table, legs swinging. 

“Good morning, Kunikida-san!” The boy greets with a bright smile, and Kunikida immediately feels himself relax. He’s missed his presence in the office. “I was getting the mail this morning! You have a parcel.”

“Huh? I haven't ordered anything recently.” Perhaps it’s yet another diplomatic apology or whatever. Kunikida thought Ranpo wrapped those up a week ago, but oh well. 

He puts his things down while Kenji tells him about his recent adventures with Tetchou. Kunikida still isn’t used to hearing a Hunting Dog’s name being thrown around so casually, but Kenji has the widest smile on his face, so Kunikida lets it be. 

The infirmary door opens and Yosano appears with a yawn. “Good morning. Didn’t you go home last night?” Kunikida asks. 

Yosano shrugs. “I’m off today, so I thought I’d pick up a night shift before that. Sigma’s vitals had a spike and I got excited. But they’re still unconscious. Could someone look after them today while I’m gone?”

Kunikida nods. “I’ll get Dazai to stay with them. He can’t do much on a broken leg anyway.”

“Hah! Don’t underestimate him. If you’re sure, though.” She takes her lab coat off and hangs it over her desk chair. “Ooh. What’s that box?”

“Ah, I’ve not opened it. It came in the mail today.”

She grins, running up to his desk. “I wanna see it before I leave! Open it!”

Kenji and Yosano continue prodding him until Kunikida gives in. He supposes he could get this out of the way first. 

He opens up the parcel and pulls out a smaller, velvet, square case. They lean in curiously. When Kunikida opens the case, his mood immediately goes crashing down. 

Inside the case is a brand new watch, its strap made of a sophisticated black leather material. There’s no note or anything, but it’s not necessary. Kunikida knows exactly who this parcel came from. 

“Woah, that looks expensive, Kunikida-san! You can finally replace your old watch!” Kenji cheers. 

Yosano hums suspiciously. “When did you buy this? It’s not your usual style.”

“I didn’t buy it,” Kunikida mutters. 

“So it’s a gift? Where’d you get yourself a sugar daddy, huh?”

If Kunikida could, he’d start shooting lasers out of his eyes. Or dig a hole in the ground and disappear forever, ideals be damned.

“What’s a sugar daddy?” Kenji interrupts, still smiling about Kunikida getting a nice watch. Yosano cackles and Kunikida shoves her out of the office, scolding her for teaching Kenji a term he should not be learning. 

Eventually, Kenji leaves the office to tend to his farm above the building. Ranpo and Fukuzawa come in a bit later, passing Kunikida some bread for breakfast. He promises them he’ll eat it later. Kunikida notices Ranpo’s gaze zero in on the watch he had (furiously) put on and pretends not to notice his knowing smirk. 

A few hours later, when Dazai comes in for work with his crutches, he limps over to his desk and flops onto his chair. Kunikida feels a little bad about asking him to work, but it’s time to get things back to normal anyway. 

“Dazai, could you look after Sigma for today? Yosano-sensei said they might wake up soon. Also, I still need your report on what happened in Meursault.”

“Yeah yeah,” Dazai grumbles, resting his cheek on his hands. “I’ll do it later and— is that a new watch?”

Kunikida curses himself. He should’ve known Dazai would immediately notice it. “Oh. Um, yes. It was a gift.”

“From who?”

“…An unknown person.”

“Hm…” Dazai squints at the watch and Kunikida can picture the gears turning in his head. “Strange. It looks awfully like the ones Chuuya buys.”

Kunikida bristles. “Well, it’s definitely not him,” he says through gritted teeth. “Could you do your report now?”

“Oh my God. You’re so full of shit! How did you persuade Chuuya into buying you expensive stuff? He never lets me swipe his credit card!”

“It’s not from Chuuya-san! There’s no proof of that!” Kunikida snaps. “And do not steal his credit card!”

Dazai gives him a shit-eating grin. “You should ask him for some new glasses too. I’m sure it wouldn’t make a dent in his bank account.”

“I don’t— why does everyone keep mentioning my glasses?!”

“In fact, I’ll call the slug right now~”

Kunikida regrets ever asking Dazai to come in for work. He puts his head in his hands and attempts to count to ten, but is sorely interrupted by Dazai’s giggles. “Chuuya! What a delight to hear from you!”

“Bastard. I’m hanging up,” Chuuya says, his voice as clear as day despite it only coming from Dazai’s phone. 

“No! I’m simply calling because it seems that Kunikida-kun liked your gift,” Dazai says, and Kunikida seriously considers moving to another country. 

He can hear Chuuya snickering and Kunikida wants to strangle him. “Oh, that’s nice. I didn’t think he’d like it. Not his style, you know?”

“You picked out something you thought I wouldn’t like on purpose?!” Kunikida interrupts, fuming. “I will break this watch right now, I swear!”

“Careful. I’d send over ten more.”

Dazai bursts out laughing and Kunikida wonders why he ever respected Chuuya. He’s just as much of a misfit as Dazai is. No wonder they were partners.

“Chuuya, I think he’s embarrassed. He can’t even show his gratitude! How shameful,” Dazai mocks. 

Kunikida groans. Dazai’s right in that aspect. His ideals state that he should be grateful and always express his thanks when somebody is kind to him. And Chuuya bought him a well-made, high quality watch. Even if he did it to tease him, he still took the time to pick it out and send it over. 

With a deep sigh, Kunikida snatches the phone from Dazai’s hand. “Chuuya-san,” he says into the speaker, and he can hear Chuuya’s responding eye roll, “forgive my brashness. The watch is beautiful and I’ll use it often. I’d appreciate it if you'd stop spending money so carelessly, though. But thank you very much. I suppose I have to find some other way to repay you.”

There’s a few seconds of silence. Then, Chuuya does the fucking unthinkable and hangs up. Kunikida thinks that if it were possible, steam would be flowing out of his ears. He takes in a deep, deep breath and shoves the phone back into Dazai’s hands, who’s still grinning like the cat who got the cream. 

“Give me your report, Dazai,” he says before Dazai can make an unnecessary comment. From the other side of the office, Ranpo laughs. 

Two months after the terrorism situation, Kunikida finally feels that the Agency is stable enough to let the kids resume working. He speaks to Fukuzawa about it and he agrees. The children come back to work at the office and with more manpower, things begin to feel a lot smoother. 

Their first meeting is with Mori, Kouyou and Hirotsu. They’ve finally found a time to sit down and form an official truce and partnership, together with a written document. Kunikida, Ranpo, Dazai and Fukuzawa participated in the meeting. Ranpo is mostly there to spot any loopholes that may be used to trick them, while Dazai is there because he’s nosy. Eventually, the meeting is concluded and their official partnership begins. 

The Mafia still has their own matters to attend to, but they’ve agreed to not meddle with each other’s business. Instead, they’ll come together to protect Yokohama in the face of external danger. They’ve agreed on certain suggested partnerships that would work well, like Atsushi and Akutagawa or Tachihara and Tanizaki. 

As Kunikida and the rest head back to the main office, Ranpo looks at Fukuzawa with a grin. “Hey, we should have a party! A celebration of some sort.”

“That’s a good idea,” Fukuzawa agrees, because he always agrees with Ranpo’s ideas. 

“Ooh. Let’s have the Mafia plan it so that we don’t have to,” Dazai chimes in. 

Fukuzawa attempts a disapproving look, but Kunikida can see him struggling not to smile. “Now, that wouldn’t be a partnership anymore. It’d be much better to plan a party together, as two organisations.”

Kunikida nods, taking his notebook out. “It might be quite a big celebration, so we should book a cruise like last time. I’ll take charge of this, if none of you mind.”

Fukuzawa gives him a pat on the shoulder and Kunikida internally cheers. “Thank you, Kunikida. I’ll contact the Mafia for you and ask them to send a representative so you two may work together.”

Kunikida beams. “Got it.”

It’s fucking Chuuya.

He has to plan the celebration with Chuuya. Chuuya.  

Maybe Kunikida should’ve seen this coming. But he kind of expected Kouyou or Hirotsu, hell maybe even Akutagawa. When Fukuzawa tells him the news (in front of the entire office, mind you), Kunikida has to force the fakest smile he’s ever made in his life. Dazai guffaws in the background. Atsushi pats his back sympathetically. 

“Oh man, Chuuya’s really scary. But you’ll be okay!” Atsushi encourages him. 

“That… that is not the concern at all, but thank you,” Kunikida mumbles. 

“We’re having a party?” Kyouka asks. 

Her eyes are shining with hope. Kunikida gathers energy to send her a soft smile and nods despite his feelings right now. “Yes. I’ll add crepes to the dessert list, don’t you worry.”

She beams and quietly goes back to her work. 

Kunikida sets up a meeting with Chuuya the coming weekend. He had wanted to do it during work hours, maybe in the Agency meeting room again, but Chuuya was busy with missions. He suggested meeting at a café to do it instead, and proceeded to attach a location that Kunikida has never been to before. 

He wonders if he’s getting kidnapped. But he accepts the invitation and writes it in his schedule. 

Saturday rolls around and Kunikida spends the whole morning hyping himself up. He checks his bag at least ten times, bringing his notebook and an extra one for brainstorming and budgeting, and even then he’s feeling nervous. He makes lunch for himself and Kenji, who comes back from farming with dirt on his feet, and eating it doesn’t quell his stomach. 

After Kunikida calls Tanizaki over to watch Kenji while he takes an afternoon nap, he leaves the house and heads downstairs. 

When Chuuya realised Kunikida had never been to that part of Yokohama before, he insisted on giving him a ride there. He claims that it’s only fair, since he’s the one making them work on a weekend. Kunikida couldn’t argue with that. 

He waits downstairs and checks his bag another three times, tapping his foot against the sidewalk. Chuuya hadn’t specified his licence plate, so Kunikida doesn’t know what to look out for. He is also uncertain why he gave out his location so easily to a Mafia Executive, but it’s too late to back out now. 

Kunikida wishes he could back out, though. Because Chuuya rolls up at 1pm sharp on a bright red motorbike.

“Absolutely not,” Kunikida blurts, staring at the vehicle. “Nope. I’d rather walk.”

Chuuya lifts the visor of his matching red helmet up, squinting his eyes at him. “Seriously? Don’t tell me you’re scared, Kunikida.”

Kunikida is absolutely, 100%, most definitely scared. From the stories Dazai’s told, Chuuya is not a safe driver! And on a motorbike no less! Kunikida is going to end up with his skull split in two before they even reach their destination.

He voices this out to Chuuya, who throws his head back and laughs. It’s an attractive sound, a thought that Kunikida quickly scraps. “Don’t worry. I won’t let you die, pretty boy. I promise I’m a safe driver.”

Chuuya tosses him a black helmet that Kunikida almost fails to catch, distracted by the fact that Chuuya called him pretty boy again. As if the first time wasn’t enough. He glares at the redhead, who’s gesturing to the helmet expectantly, and after fighting an internal battle, Kunikida puts the damn helmet on. 

Chuuya shifts forward and pats the space behind him. Kunikida swings a leg over and only after he’s seated does he realise how close this forces the two of them to be. 

“Hold on,” Chuuya mutters, guiding his hands to circle around his waist. Kunikida sucks in a deep breath and tries to pretend his heart isn’t jackhammering right now. “I promise we won’t fall. If anything goes wrong, remember that I manipulate gravity, ‘kay?”

His words do help, not that Kunikida would admit that. “Fine. But do not attempt a wheelie.”

Chuuya snickers, and Kunikida can physically feel how his smaller frame shakes when he laughs. “Sure, sure. Let’s go!”

Chuuya, to his word, is a pretty safe driver. Kunikida is quite sure he didn’t have to swerve that hard at certain turns, but it’s alright overall. He does tighten his grip on Chuuya at those points, though, hissing death threats, and it makes Chuuya laugh unabashedly. 

When they arrive, Chuuya parks outside the mall and pulls off his helmet. Kunikida follows suit and they head into the mall where the café is. 

It’s a nice place, admittedly. Deep brown tiles and wooden tables, along with candles and antiques that give the place a cosy feel. Chuuya picks out a window seat and throws his bag down, then takes his hat off to place beside it. 

“I’ll get us drinks,” Chuuya says, walking off without another word right when Kunikida puts his own bag down. He’s about to ask what Chuuya’s getting, but the mafioso is already joining the line. 

Sighing to himself, Kunikida decides to trust him on this one. It’s not like he was given much of a choice. 

When Chuuya comes back, he’s holding two cups of hot chocolate, topped with whipped cream. For some reason, that makes Kunikida laugh. 

“What’s so funny?” Chuuya asks with a narrowing glare. 

Kunikida coughs into his hand. “Nothing, sorry. I thought you’d get black coffee or something. Maybe even tea, since you’re so refined.”

Chuuya’s eyebrows furrow. “I didn’t know whether you drink caffeine or not. And nobody hates hot chocolate.”

“Jun’ichirou does.”

“How?!”

“He’s lactose intolerant.”

“So is Gin, but I see them getting milkshakes with Tachihara every week,” Chuuya mutters. 

Kunikida shrugs, picking up his cup and sipping from it. When he puts it back down, he notices Chuuya staring at him expectantly. “…What?”

“Well? Is it nice?”

“Oh.” Kunikida considers the taste for a bit. It’s creamy and rich and definitely made of good-quality cocoa. He just wasn’t paying much attention. “Yes, it’s wonderful.”

Chuuya nods with a satisfied grin, and Kunikida wonders if he was, just maybe, waiting for his approval this whole time. He brushes away that thought and pulls out his notebook and a pen. The table’s too small for a laptop, so this’ll do. 

“I’ve split the event into sections that need to be handled. There’s budgeting, catering, the location, the guest list, the dress code…” Kunikida lists. 

Chuuya looks a little constipated and Kunikida wonders if he’s also lactose intolerant. “Dude… why don’t you relax for a bit?”

Kunikida narrows his eyes. “I am relaxed. I’m just planning. Like you’re supposed to as well?”

“Well.” Chuuya looks to the side a little awkwardly. “I thought we could get to know each other a little better first.”

Kunikida blinks. Maybe he should get his ears checked, because there is no way he has a terrifying mafioso with an even more terrifying reputation, sitting in front of him and looking so nervous. It’s almost endearing in a way, and Kunikida has to remind himself that Chuuya could kill him in three seconds without batting an eye. 

“Oh. So we may obtain better work chemistry together?” Kunikida asks, setting down his pen. “I understand. What would you like to know?”

If anything, Chuuya looks even more constipated. Maybe he really is lactose intolerant and is just really fucking good at hiding it. “Right… sure. What do you do in your spare time?”

Kunikida takes some time to ponder. He does his errands, he spends time making sure members like Dazai and Kenji remember to eat, he schedules his next work day, he plans meetings… 

He voices this out to Chuuya. When he finishes, Chuuya has an odd look in his eyes. “Huh. Dazai was right when he called you a workaholic.”

“He called me a what?!”

“Haha! Yeah, he’s right for once. You must be pretty stressed, then.”

“I…” Kunikida feels heat rising to his cheeks and he reminds himself to calm down. “It’s nothing. The Agency depends on me. I like being reliable.”

Chuuya sighs, leaning back in his seat. “I get that. It’s a responsibility, a burden that never leaves your shoulders. You either let it consume you, or you find the joy within it.”

“Is that how being an Executive feels?” Kunikida asks curiously. He’s not one to be privy about the Mafia’s business—he’s not sure if he’s even allowed to ask. But Chuuya doesn’t seem to mind, instead giving him a small nod. 

“There’s only me and Ane-san ‘cause one died and Dazai left,” Chuuya says. “Oh, and Verlaine I guess.”

Kunikida does not want to know. “And you two manage the whole Mafia with your boss?”

“Somewhat, I suppose. There’s the smaller units that others are in charge of, like Akutagawa-kun with the Black Lizard. And different members are in charge of different businesses we run. But the paperwork comes to me, mostly,” Chuuya laughs. His eyes seem to glow when he does, but the exhaustion in his voice is evident. 

Kunikida feels some sort of empathy towards Chuuya. Because now that he’s looking more closely, he can see the tension in Chuuya’s shoulders and the bags under his eyes, like he’s always shouldered by his work. It reminds him of himself, a little bit. 

With how powerful and confident Chuuya is, Kunikida never considered him to be on the same level as them. Someone who gets tired and frustrated and maybe a little embarrassed sometimes. Who is dedicated and enjoys hot chocolate and whose eyes light up when he laughs. It’s a new perspective. 

“I admire that, Chuuya-san,” Kunikida admits. “Your dedication to your work is respectable.”

“Oh,” Chuuya breathes. He’s staring at Kunikida with wide eyes. After a few seconds, Chuuya ducks his head, hiding behind his auburn locks. “Thanks, I suppose. You too. We should get started on the planning now, I think.”

Kunikida smiles in amusement. “Sure. So as I was saying…”

Following the official truce, the first pair mission happens on a regular Tuesday. It’s to catch an ability user with the ability to poison whatever they touch. 

They send Dazai to nullify the user, along with Atsushi and Akutagawa, since they’d be familiar with working with each other. Atsushi had given Kunikida the most betrayed look when he was informed, as if it was torture to send him on a mission with Akutagawa. Kunikida had not seen the issue until Atsushi came back with his clothes all tattered, carrying Akutagawa in his arms. 

Kunikida lets out the deepest sigh he has in a long time. “Okay. Where’s Dazai, first of all?”

“He caught the ability user and is with the police right now. He’s staying close for safety reasons,” Atsushi mutters. 

Kunikida looks over his shoulder, noticing that Akutagawa is unconscious. “And what happened there?”

“He used Rashoumon, and the ability user was able to poison her, which seeped his strength. He eventually fainted and he’s been like this even after Dazai-san nullified the guy.”

Yosano stands up from her desk and walks over, and Kunikida does not miss the fact that Atsushi grips Akutagawa’s body tighter. 

They disappear into the infirmary and Kunikida wonders if sending them together was a good idea or not. Maybe he should go on the next joint mission, just to see if this arrangement is even beneficial. 

About an hour later, there’s a harsh knock on the door. Kyouka goes to open it, and when she does, it reveals a familiar Mafia member. 

“Where’s Akutagawa-kun?” Chuuya asks in lieu of greeting, looking right at Kunikida. Kunikida sits up straighter at the direct gaze and clears his throat. 

“Please don’t show up uninvited like that, Chuuya-san,” he sighs. “He’s with Atsushi and Yosano-sensei. He’ll be fine.”

Chuuya crosses his arms. “I don’t believe that. I’ll wait until I can see him.”

Kunikida raises an eyebrow. “Don’t you have things to do?”

“My subordinates are more important, obviously. Shut your trap.” He marches into the office and sits on the chair in front of Kunikida. It’s Dazai’s desk, but Kunikida chooses not to mention that. 

There’s many things Kunikida wants to say at the moment. The Agency and Mafia may currently have a truce, but ultimately, Chuuya is not one of them. He is part of the Mafia, and that will forever run in his blood. Kunikida knows he should be wary, and knows that the truce is simply a business partnership and nothing more. 

But he can’t find it in himself to say it. The sight of Chuuya in their office should be odd, but it really isn’t. Maybe his clothes look a little out of place, but something about this scene screams right. And isn’t that food for thought. 

“Hey, Mr Fancy Hat,” Ranpo calls from the other side of the office. Chuuya looks up with an irritated twitch of his eye, where Ranpo is waving at him. “Do you want to do something productive?”

“What? Uh—”

Ranpo throws a paper aeroplane over and it lands right in front of Chuuya. Kunikida’s kind of impressed with the accuracy. Chuuya goes to unfold the aeroplane, revealing a crossword puzzle. 

“Solve that for me, thanks.”

“Hah?!” Chuuya makes an affronted noise, giving Kunikida a disbelieving look. Kunikida simply shrugs and goes back to his work. It’s not like this is out of ordinary behaviour for Ranpo anyway. Chuuya’s just the newest victim. 

Surprisingly enough, Chuuya grumbles and plucks a pen from Kunikida’s pen holder, getting to work on the crossword. His eyebrows furrow and his left hand taps on the table as he reads the clues. 

Now this is a very odd sight. And very distracting. Kunikida has to tear his eyes away and remind himself to focus on his schedule.

At one point, both Kenji and Kyouka not-so-subtly come over to Dazai’s desk, peeking over Chuuya’s shoulder. Chuuya doesn’t seem to mind, simply leaning back so that they’re able to see better. The office grows quiet, save for the sound of keyboards clacking and writing. 

About another half an hour later, the door to the treatment room opens and Yosano walks out. She stops in her tracks when she sees Chuuya, who hasn’t looked up, still engrossed in the crossword. She gives Kunikida a questioning look and a thumbs up, signalling that Akutagawa is fine. Kunikida nods, then glances back at Chuuya. 

The crossword must be getting frustrating, for Chuuya is chewing harshly on his lip and glaring daggers at the paper. The chair Chuuya is sitting on lifts just ever so slightly, glowing a faint red. Kyouka takes a few steps back. Kenji stays in his spot, either unaware or uncaring about Chuuya’s growing annoyance. 

“Chuuya-san,” Kunikida calls before things escalate. Chuuya jumps and his chair drops back down. “You can go see Akutagawa now.”

“Oh!” Chuuya shoots up and the chair goes flying back. Kenji picks it up. “Shit. Sorry, you didn’t hear that. Thanks.”

The mess of words make Kunikida huff out a laugh. Chuuya heads into the room with Yosano and the door shuts with a soft click. 

“I think we all just almost died,” Tanizaki sighs from his desk. Kunikida would like to agree. 

“Does this mean Chuuya-san will be coming over from now on?” Kenji asks. Tanizaki mutters something that sounds suspiciously like ‘I hope not’.

“No. He’s busy with the Mafia,” Kunikida replies. 

Kenji looks crestfallen and Kunikida seriously considers inviting Chuuya over next time, just to get rid of that look on his face. 

“Whatever. Did he solve the crossword?” Ranpo asks. 

Kyouka picks up the paper. “No.”

“Hah! Yeah, I made it myself. It’s unsolvable.”

“I heard that!” comes a shriek from the treatment room. Kunikida winces. Ranpo doesn’t seem to care one bit. 

The door flies open and out comes a furious Chuuya, an amused Yosano, an exhausted Atsushi, and an even more exhausted Akutagawa. “You,” Chuuya hisses, pointing an accusatory finger at Ranpo, “you are the bane of my existence. I’m gonna poison your food at the party, watch out.”

“Please don’t,” Kunikida says, taking the crossword from Kyouka. He glances at it, seeing many question marks and cancelled letters scribbled all over the page. “You made a valiant effort, though.”

“You’re not funny, Kunikida!”

“I’m being serious,” Kunikida insists, but the more he looks at Chuuya’s frustration manifested on the paper, the more he wants to laugh. “You tried really hard!”

“I hate you. I do not look forward to seeing you next time. Akutagawa-kun! We’re leaving!”

Akutagawa sighs in response. Chuuya hooks his arm with Akutagawa’s and drags him out of the office, not even bothering to close the door. The most heinous of crimes. Kunikida cannot believe it. 

Well then. He takes the crossword and folds it in half, putting it in his drawer. It’s a funny memory he’d like to keep, but if anyone asks, he’s simply saving the environment. 

On a regular Friday, at two in the afternoon, Sigma wakes up. 

The commotion in the office is outstanding. Yosano’s door all but slams open, and her eyes are filled with caution. “They’re awake,” is all she says. 

Dazai stands up first, grabbing his cane, which had replaced his crutches after a while. He doesn’t gesture for anyone to follow, and the Agency members know it’s not their place to interfere. Even after Dazai’s report was submitted, Kunikida still doesn’t know much about Sigma. It’s part of their mystery, he supposes. 

About an hour later, Dazai comes out again, Sigma following nervously. Dazai announces that Sigma will be staying at his dorm, a wide smile on his face. 

“Don’t torture them like that,” Yosano calls from inside the infirmary with a laugh. Sigma grimaces, but bows and apologises for taking up their space. 

When Sigma leaves with Yosano to go get a much needed meal, Dazai drops back onto his office chair, leaning over the table with pleading eyes. Kunikida can already feel the headache incoming. “What?”

“I think Sigma-kun should join the Agency,” Dazai declares.

Kunikida sighs. They could always do with more workers, but Sigma was previously associated with the Decay of Angels. They had also just awoken from a long coma, which begs the question of what Fyodor did to them. 

It doesn’t help that Sigma was written into their world by the book. They may not be the enemy anymore, but they’re not a friend either. If Kunikida were to accept them into the Agency, and it ends up costing them something terrible, he would never forgive himself. 

“We can’t trust Sigma yet, Dazai,” Kunikida says. “Besides, they just woke up. Give them a little break.”

“They don’t have to join as a detective. They can work alongside the clerks.”

“Ooh!” Naomi pipes up from where she is. “I’d love that! It’s always nice to have an extra set of hands, anyway.”

“Hm.” Kunikida flips open his notebook, writing it down. “But we’ll have to check if Sigma is still a threat to us, and ask the President as well.”

“Bram is here all the time and he’s not a threat,” Atsushi points out. “I’ll vouch for Sigma too.”

“Me too,” Kyouka says with a nod. 

Kunikida breathes deeply. He supposes he should take the words of his coworkers. They have more experience with Sigma anyway. 

Still, there’s something about the situation that’s making Kunikida uncomfortable. Maybe he’s being too wary. His coworkers are smart people. 

It does make him feel a bit singled out, though, for being the only person against this. So despite the mistrust pooling in his gut, he relents. “Okay. I’ll set up a meeting with the President and Sigma. But nothing is confirmed, okay?”

Dazai’s eyes twinkle, and he doesn’t say anything else for the rest of the day. 

The next time Kunikida and Chuuya meet, it’s at the same café, and Chuuya looks utterly exhausted.

His hair is a mess, which Kunikida has never seen before. There’s dark circles under his eyes, and to top it all off, Chuuya gets himself a black coffee. Kunikida needs no further proof. 

“You look a little tired,” Kunikida says. 

Chuuya glares. Kunikida is impressed that he even has the energy. “I’m not. Let’s get to work.”

Kunikida gives a wary hum before taking out his notebook. He flips to the page with budgeting and shows it to Chuuya, who squints at it in confusion. “I’ll break it down. It’s between these two businesses for cruise booking. So this one is less expensive, but this one provides better—”

“Just get the more expensive one.” Chuuya shrugs, waving his hand. “The Mafia will pay.”

“…Okay. Then for the food—”

“Buy whatever you want. We’ll pay.”

“Um. I mean if you insist, but it’s a joint party. The Agency can take up some funds.”

“Please. You guys can do the details. We’ll settle costs. That’s an easy win.”

“Fine,” Kunikida grumbles. He spent all this time pondering for nothing, it seems. “Right. Then let’s confirm the guest list.”

Chuuya digs into his bag and pulls out a strip of paper, placing it in front of Kunikida. Kunikida is surprised to find a full, complete list of people discussed from their last meeting, backed with their relation to either the Mafia or Agency. 

“Did you sleep at all this past week?” Kunikida accuses. “This is incredibly well done. When did you have the time?”

“I made it in between my missions, ” Chuuya shrugs. “I had an overnight one yesterday, so there was a lot of spare time. No need to thank me.”

Kunikida narrows his eyes. That would explain why Chuuya seems so tired today. “I see. So you’re a hypocrite.”

“What?!”

“You called me a workaholic!” Kunikida says, crossing his arms. “When did you last eat?”

“Uh… before my mission, but why does that matter?”

“The nerve you have,” Kunikida scoffs, packing his things up. Chuuya watches him with a confused frown. “Stand up. I’m going to make sure you eat a full, healthy meal. Not eating for so long is ridiculous.”

“It’s not that big of a deal!” Chuuya complains, but he stands up anyway. “Don’t you have to stick to your schedule? You said we only have two hours for this meeting.”

“My ideals state that one should keep their body healthy first. The mind can’t prosper without proper rest and nutrition,” Kunikida says. He feels like the greatest philosopher alive. Chuuya doesn’t seem to share that sentiment, if his deep frown is anything to go by, but Kunikida ignores it. 

He brings Chuuya to the first restaurant he finds and gets them a seat. The waiter passes them a menu and Kunikida gestures to it. Chuuya refuses to move until Kunikida literally picks it up and shoves it into his face. 

“You’re so pushy,” Chuuya huffs, flipping through the menu. Kunikida crosses his arms, hoping it sends a message. 

Since Chuuya has offered the Mafia’s income, Kunikida doesn’t have to worry much about budget anymore. He can instead focus on making the party a good experience for everyone involved. That removes a considerable amount of work from his plate, so he can afford to sit here and have lunch with Chuuya. 

They order their food and Kunikida’s mind flashes to Sigma. He wonders if Chuuya will want to know. He was the one who carried them back to the airport, after all. 

“Sigma woke up yesterday,” Kunikida says, breaking the silence. 

"Actually? How's their head?"

"...What? It's fine, I think. Why?"

Chuuya shrugs, looking at his own hand. "No reason."

“Right. Well, we’re offering them a job as a clerk at the Agency.”

Chuuya raises an eyebrow. “Wow. Dazai’s request?”

“Huh. Yeah, how’d you know?”

Chuuya huffs out a laugh, crossing his arms. “It’s something only that bastard would do. I was wondering how Sigma would be like once they wake. How are their memories?”

“I asked Yosano-sensei about it. She said Sigma cannot recall anything past touching Dostoevsky, but it should come to them slowly.”

“That sounds tough.” A waiter comes by and sets down two glasses of water. Chuuya picks his glass up and takes a small sip. “Dazai was determined to save Sigma back then. I did all the heavy-lifting, but it was on his request. I didn’t really get it back then, but I guess I see why now.”

Kunikida presses his lips together, frowning deeply. “If I’m being honest, I don’t trust them.”

“Really?”

“Dazai and the others were pretty relaxed about it. But… Sigma was our enemy just a few months ago. It doesn’t bode well with me that we’re just accepting them to work with us now.”

“Doesn’t the vampire stay with you guys?”

“Bram comes and goes as he pleases,” Kunikida huffs with an eye roll. “He mostly comes when Aya visits us. And he’s a little different. He never had a choice, did he? The sword held him captive. He aided us, eventually. And Aya likes him, so…”

Their food arrives. Chuuya picks up a fork and smiles gently, an expression Kunikida never expected to see. His heart skips a beat. “Your doubt isn’t wrong. You’re trying to protect your members. I’d be mistrusting too.”

There is something so ironic about this conversation—Kunikida telling Chuuya he is hesitant about an enemy-turned-ally when that is exactly what Chuuya is. 

But he’s different, Kunikida wants to reason, even though it’s not backed by logic. He’s special.

“I feel like I’m the only one, though,” Kunikida says. “Dazai, Atsushi, Kyouka. They were all vouching for Sigma. Do they know something I don’t?”

“Well, I don’t know much either. But Sigma is an odd case. They were written to be used. However, Sigma did aid Dazai back in Meursault, and risked their life to get information on Dostoevsky. I think that counts for something.”

“I suppose it does,” Kunikida admits. He takes a deep breath. This situation had him feeling a lot more jumbled up than he thought. “Sorry, that was heavy. Thank you, Chuuya-san. You can be quite kind.”

“What do you mean by can be?” Chuuya scoffs, shoving a spoonful of rice into his mouth. He chews rather aggressively, but it doesn’t stop Kunikida from seeing the splash of red dust on his cheeks. 

Something in his stomach flutters. He shoves that feeling aside. 

(When they leave, Chuuya actively fights to pay, pushing Kunikida so hard that he almost knocks over a potted plant. Kunikida is insulted, considering that he’s the one who made them get lunch, but Chuuya grins like he won the lottery and doesn’t let him protest.)

On Monday, Kunikida waits for Aya outside her school with his arms crossed. 

He likes to use his off days to pick her up from school and spoil her a little before she goes home. Bram doesn’t pick her up because he can’t go outside without attracting stares. Besides, he doesn’t like the sun. 

When the children start to appear, Kunikida spots Aya immediately. She’s with some friends of hers, laughing as they walk, and it makes Kunikida smile. 

Aya spots him just as she leaves the gate and she beams like the sun, dashing up to him. Kunikida ruffles her hair, messing up her red locks, and she screeches indignantly. 

“You’re terrible!” she claims, but she’s still smiling. “Where are we going today?”

“I’ve asked Naomi-chan to order takeout for you. It’s from that noodle place you love. You can eat at the Agency while I catch up on some extra stuff,” Kunikida says, proud that he remembers. Aya’s eyes shine just a tad bit brighter. 

“Yay! Is Bra-chan there too?”

Kunikida rolls his eyes. “Yes, your favourite vampire is waiting for you.”

“He is not my favourite.”

“He spoils you. He treats you like a princess.”

“I am a princess,” Aya huffs. “Maybe you’re just jealous that no rich man is spoiling you.”

Kunikida knows she meant it as a joke, but his mind flashes to a certain ginger Mafioso who insists on paying for anything and everything. He discreetly hides the watch on his wrist behind his back. “Keep quiet.” 

They walk back to the Agency together. It’s not a very far walk, only about 20 minutes. Aya tells him about her day at school and a transfer student she’s been trying to befriend, and Kunikida listens intently to every word. She talks about wanting to make her something fun, like a friendship bracelet or a card, and Kunikida files that thought away for later. 

When they arrive at the Agency’s office, Kunikida opens the door for Aya. She skips in, yelling a greeting, and Kunikida watches how she lights up the whole room. Everyone smiles and greets her warmly. Naomi hurries forward to give Aya a big hug. Bram kneels and presents her food like it’s a sacred artefact, and Ranpo passes her a candy generously. She bounces over to Yosano’s desk, who offers her the seat so she can eat.

“Spoiled, I’m telling you,” Kunikida mutters, pretending he wouldn’t do the exact same. 

As he looks away from Aya and approaches his desk to maybe finish some paperwork early, he notices someone leaning against his table, looking awfully lost. Dazai is busy tormenting them, though he’s getting ignored. 

“Chuuya-san?” Kunikida calls, and the man looks up. “Why did you break into our office again?”

“I didn’t break in, I was allowed,” Chuuya sniffs. “I’m visiting.”

The fact that seeing Chuuya so often is becoming the norm should be very concerning. Kunikida cannot find it in himself to care. 

“Visiting,” Kunikida repeats in a flat voice. He hopes his disbelief bleeds into his words. “For what?”

Chuuya smirks, reaching into his pocket and pulling out a rectangular box. It looks like a casing of some sort. Kunikida eyes it warily. 

“Open it,” Chuuya insists. 

Kunikida takes it with hesitant fingers, giving Dazai a curious look. Dazai doesn’t offer any explanation—he never does when it comes to his shenanigans with Chuuya—but he is watching intently. That doesn’t make Kunikida feel much better. 

“Is this a prank?” 

Chuuya levels him with an unimpressed look. “Do I look like the type to pull pranks?”

“Absolutely,” Kunikida mutters, but he opens the box anyway. 

When he lifts the cover of the box, it reveals a pair of gold-rimmed glasses. 

Kunikida blinks in confusion. He looks at Chuuya, trying to figure out what his expression means. “You’re getting glasses?”

Even Atsushi snorts from where he was pretending to type on his laptop. Chuuya throws his hands up. “No! They’re for you.”

“What.”

“Your glasses have been bent weirdly ever since the terrorist incident,” Dazai points out. “Did you not notice?”

The familiar words make Kunikida’s eye twitch. “I did notice, thank you very much. But my glasses still work. ”

He picks up the new glasses and holds it up, looking at the frame. It’s slightly rounder than his current ones, but ultimately it looks pretty similar. “How did you get my degree?”

“I stole your documents,” Chuuya answers flatly. 

“Huh?!” Kunikida groans when he sees Chuuya’s grin, realising he was just messing with him. He probably got it from Dazai. “From the bottom of my heart. I despise you.”

“I’m not hearing a thank you!”

Kunikida sighs. This feels like a repeat of the watch situation. He huffily takes his glasses off and puts the new ones on, upset to realise that they feel comfortable. As he blinks to readjust, he is even more upset to find that his vision is perfectly clear. 

Chuuya got him the perfect pair. Kunikida wants to punch him. His fingers clench by his sides. 

“Thank you,” he says through gritted teeth while Chuuya preens. “But you need to stop buying me things.”

“Maybe I enjoy it,” Chuuya replies, giving him a look that says what are you going to do about it?

“Eww.” Kunikida whips his head around to find Aya pointing at them with a stink eye. “You do get spoiled. You’re a hypocrite, Kunikida.”

Kunikida doesn’t even bother correcting her. He takes a deep breath. “I do not. Believe it or not, I am being mocked.”

Chuuya has the gall to look offended. “I’m not mocking you!” He turns to Aya. “Also, I am not spoiling him!” 

“Yes you are,” Aya replies. 

“I just can’t stand his broken glasses. They look silly. So I got him new ones.”

She squints with that judgemental look that kids get because they have no filter. “Hm. I’m Aya. What’s your name?”

“Chuuya…” he replies hesitantly at the topic switch. “Why?”

“You’re a liar, Chuu-chan.”

“What?!” Chuuya gapes, looking taken aback, and Kunikida hides a laugh behind his hands. “I am not a liar!”

“You spoil Kunikida. He can afford glasses for himself,” Aya sniffs. “Admit it.”

Chuuya wrinkles his nose, wagging his finger at her. She doesn’t waver one bit. “Aya-chan, if you choose to shut up about this situation forever, I’ll buy you something cool too.”

Aya’s eyes shine with mischief. “Right now?”

“Yes.”

“Wait, you are not taking her with you!” Kunikida cuts in. Just because Chuuya is their ally now, doesn’t mean he’s going to trust the strongest the Mafia has to offer with a ten year old girl. 

It’s perfectly reasonable, but Chuuya and Aya roll their eyes in sync and Kunikida thinks he just lost half of his lifespan. 

“Fine, if you’re so worried, you’ll just have to come with us,” Chuuya says. 

Kunikida must be dreaming. There is no way that Chuuya of all people is suggesting he skip work. “I am not going to abandon my duties.”

“Dazai says you’re not on shift today,” Chuuya replies, and Kunikida seriously considers maiming his work partner. Dazai whistles innocently. “Come on. Relax. It’s your day off.”

“…But—”

“I will accompany the lady instead if you are not interested,” Bram says from the corner he’s been ominously lurking in. That seals the deal. 

“Fine! I’ll go!” Kunikida slaps his hands on his desk. He glares at Chuuya’s smirk. “Do not look so proud. You’re a scheming bastard.”

“Ooh, I thought I was the scheming bastard?” Dazai pipes up. 

“I know you planned this somehow! Shut up!”

Chuuya sticks his tongue out at Dazai. Kunikida swears he’s gonna kill him one day. He takes Aya’s hand and marches out of the office, not caring to see if Chuuya is following him. 

Aya glances at him, lips pursed in judgement. “Your face is very red.”

“Really,” Kunikida deadpans. He hears footsteps from behind them and quickens his pace in spite. “I had no clue.”

Chuuya still catches up, which is extremely unfortunate. He leads them outside the building, where a black car is parked. Kunikida has to take a second to pick his jaw up from the floor. “So, where shall we go?”

“You had a car this whole time?!”

“Jeez. Yes, obviously,” Chuuya grumbles. He opens the backseat door for Aya, who happily hops in, a wide grin on her face. “Why is that so shocking?”

Kunikida fumes. “You made me sit on your terrible motorbike for no good reason! Did you enjoy seeing me afraid? Huh?!”

“I did,” Chuuya laughs, gently closing the door. Kunikida cannot believe him. “I’m kidding. It’s faster with a motorbike, isn’t it? And it wasn’t that bad.”

It really wasn’t, but Kunikida feels embarrassed about how strongly he rejected that motorbike at first glance. He fixes his glare on Chuuya, who opens the passenger door for him with a bow, as if to tease him further. Kunikida is going to lose it. 

It doesn’t help that Chuuya gets this smug, dastardly grin whenever he riles Kunikida up like this. It’s almost like this is his new hobby, and Kunikida keeps falling for it. Maybe he should create a page in his notebook on how to deal with cocky mafiosos who think they are funny when they are not.

Kunikida grouches as he gets into the car, tugging on the seatbelt with more force than necessary. He glances at the rearview mirror to check if Aya is seated safely, and is pleased to find her buckled up and ready. As Chuuya climbs in, he takes his hat off and puts on a pair of sunglasses, smirking at him. 

He… doesn’t look cool. Like, objectively, super not cool. Kunikida is not going to blush.

“Is the princess ready?” Chuuya asks, tilting his head back. Aya laughs and nods rapidly. “Good. What about you, pretty boy?”

Kunikida’s face goes up in flames. 

After a rowdy shopping trip, Chuuya generously sends Aya home with his car. Aya, holding on to the biggest bat stuffed toy and a sparkly shopping bag, attempts to hug Chuuya to express her gratitude. Chuuya gets down on one knee so she may do so, and Kunikida watches it happen with a fond smile. 

For how brash and annoyed Chuuya acted towards Aya, he warmed up to her at the speed of light. Anything Aya laid her eyes on, Chuuya’s hand was already halfway into his wallet. Kunikida had to stop him a few times, reasoning that Aya is going to seem interested in everything, and they just have to look out for what interests her the most. 

After Aya goes home, it’s just the two of them in the car. Chuuya leans back on his seat, glancing at Kunikida through the rearview mirror. “That’s what I’d call a day off.”

Kunikida rolls his eyes, but he must admit that he enjoyed the trip. Seeing Aya happy automatically relaxes him, and Chuuya gets along with her perfectly. He couldn’t have asked for a better day off. 

“I can drive you back to your place,” Chuuya offers. He says it casually, but his eyes avert when Kunikida looks at him in surprise. 

“You’ve done more than enough,” Kunikida says, briefly touching the glasses he’s wearing. “I really don’t—”

“—Look! Sorry, sorry, it’s a dog!”

Kunikida’s eyebrows rise as he watches Chuuya frantically pull his seatbelt off and dash out of the car to where a dog has just disappeared into an alleyway. He sighs and goes after him, only to make sure he doesn’t run off too far. 

When he turns into the alleyway, Chuuya has already coaxed the dog into his arms and is petting it, a wide grin on his face. Its fur is matted and dirty, so it’s hard to tell what colour it is. There’s no leash on it either. The only prominent feature it has are large, round eyes, the colour of deep ocean blue. 

“It’s a stray, Chuuya-san. Don’t get so close to it.”

Chuuya looks up at him with a pout. An actual pout. From Mafia Executive Nakahara Chuuya, strongest ability user in all of Yokohama. Kunikida cannot believe what he’s seeing. 

“It has to be cold all by itself. And it’s starving! I’m gonna bring it home.”

“Please don’t. That’s how you get diseases.”

“I’m strong enough, it doesn’t matter!”

Kunikida sees the insistence in Chuuya’s eyes and knows there’s no point in convincing him otherwise. He makes a compromise instead. “We can bring it to the vet to get it checked. Then you can bring it home.”

Chuuya honestly has no reason to listen to him, but he nods and cradles the dog, standing up. “Okay. Let’s go now.”

They hurry back to Chuuya’s car. Chuuya takes his hat off to place the dog inside it, which is quite surprising, considering how attached he is to that hat. Kunikida supposes everyone has their soft spots. He then passes the hat to Kunikida with a warning look, as if to say that if he doesn’t protect the dog with his life, he’ll kill him. 

As they drive to the nearest clinic, Kunikida says, “I didn’t know you were a dog person.”

“I adore them,” Chuuya says. He sounds a bit defensive. “Don’t you?”

“Ah, I’m not really an animal guy. I think it’s nice that you’re so passionate, though. Do you own pets?”

Chuuya huffs. “No. One of my friends had a hamster for a few days, but then it died somehow. He had named it Hamstertross. It was a ridiculous pet.”

Kunikida snorts. “That’s a horrible name.”

“That’s what Doc said, and we kept it anyway because no one could think of a better alternative. Iceman threatened to kill Hamstertross too, but it died before he could.” Chuuya speaks of these memories with a fond smile, but his voice is dejected. It’s weird, considering it has to be a funny memory, but he speaks with an air of loss more than anything. 

Kunikida has never heard of these names. Either they’re underlings in the Mafia who wouldn’t have connections with the Agency, or…

Carefully, Kunikida asks, “How are your friends now?”

There’s silence for a few seconds. When Chuuya answers, his voice is empty. “They’re doing good.”

Kunikida doesn’t need to prod any further. He already understands. 

Loss is a definite when it comes to the nature of their jobs. Kunikida knows the feeling all too well—the shame and frustration when you simply cannot save someone. 

It makes him go mad. His lungs collapse and his fingers shake, as if desperate to hold onto a pen for some semblance of routine, and he wants to scream but never makes an ounce of noise. When his voice does let loose, it’s raw and hurts his throat and he’s usually rendered speechless for a few days after. 

Chuuya speaks of his friends like they’re a bad movie. He sounds like he wishes he could forget, like it’s all just a memory that will fade with time. But the truth remains that while time heals all wounds, they still scar. And scars don’t disappear no matter how hard you try to cover them up. 

“Well, at least,” Kunikida begins, “this guy will be saved. It’s thanks to you.”

The dog in the hat barks, and Chuuya smiles. It’s barely there; but that’s more than enough. “Yeah. I guess so.”

On the day of the joint party, Kunikida arrives extra early to check out the venue. 

The person in charge brings him around the main areas. The ballroom is massive, much bigger than the last time, and a gleaming chandelier hangs from the ceiling. The stairs from the ballroom lead to two different areas with numerous cabins. Since the party will end at night, Chuuya had suggested they book the cruise for an overnight stay so that people wouldn’t have to walk home late. 

The cabins had to be booked individually. Kunikida had booked just one floor after counting the total number of people staying over. 

There aren’t that many cabins per floor, only ten in total, but each cabin has enough space for two people. They’ve split it into five rooms each for each organisation. Kunikida already informed the rest of the Agency that they’ll need to pair up. For the children, Fukuzawa is taking Kenji and Yosano is taking Kyouka, so Kunikida isn’t too worried about that. He’s not sure what the pairing will be like on the Mafia’s side, but that’s for Chuuya to settle. 

The ballroom is incredibly large for the amount of people they have. They didn’t invite too many guests, wanting to keep things downlow. There are guards on the Mafia’s side, though, as well as lower-ranking members, but they aren’t staying the night as far as Kunikida is aware. 

Lucy and Poe are coming, only because it feels wrong to not invite them after how much they aided the Agency. Lucy’s leaving early because she has a shift at the café tomorrow, and Poe’s accompanying her back because he prefers staying at his own home. 

Sigma, Bram, and Aya are also invited. This was based on Dazai’s request. Aya’s not allowed to stay past 10pm, though, so Bram is taking her back home. Kunikida had argued about it for a long time, considering the vampire does not know how to drive. It was until Sigma stepped in to say that they will be the one driving that Kunikida relented. 

Kunikida goes to talk to the captains of the ship, then to the chefs, then to the rest of the staff on the ship. By the time he’s done, it’s almost 4 in the afternoon. 

His phone begins to ring and Kunikida sighs when he hears the familiar, grating ringtone. He picks up the call with a huff. “Yes, Dazai?”

“We did the pairings for the rooms! I just sent it to you!” Dazai chirps. “But there’s one problem. We have an odd number.”

“Ah…” Kunikida runs through the Agency members, realising that they have eleven people. But with only five rooms allocated to them, that’s not enough. He curses himself for the oversight. “I’ll check with Chuuya-san, then. I will probably stay alone.”

“Hm,” Dazai hums. “Maybe. Don’t worry, Kunikida-kun! You can always squeeze in with me and Ranpo-san!”

Kunikida’s eye twitches at the mere idea. “I appreciate it,” he says through gritted teeth before hanging up. 

He pulls out his notebook and counts the number of people staying overnight. He knows he didn’t underbook. The Mafia’s side has nine, which means twenty in total, which means…

“God, there you are. This ship is massive, isn’t it?”

Kunikida jumps, whipping his head around. He relaxes when he sees Chuuya approaching, accompanied by a member of the cruise staff. 

“Oh, good afternoon. Yeah. Um, about the rooms—”

“Right! I’ve not checked those out. Bring me there, please,” Chuuya asks the staff member, who bows politely and gestures to the stairs. 

Kunikida follows them with a sigh. He supposes he could deal with this problem later. 

They head up the stairs and to a long hallway, where there are five cabins on each side, evenly spaced out. Chuuya peaks into the first one on the left, nodding approvingly. He turns back to look at Kunikida. “You booked a nice cruise. Where are your things?”

“In the lobby. The rooms haven’t been allocated yet. That’s the issue I needed to talk to you about.”

Chuuya raises an eyebrow. “Go on.”

Kunikida takes out his phone, glancing at the list Dazai has sent. “There’s eleven of us and nine of the Mafia staying over. Ten cabins is enough room, but one of us has to stay with one of you.”

“Oh.” Chuuya remains unfazed. “Yeah, I know. The Mafia already paired up. Aren’t we rooming together?”

He says it so casually that Kunikida wonders if he misheard. There’s no way he missed this piece of information. “We are?!”

Chuuya startles, beginning to look unsure. “…I thought it was obvious? Who else would share a room? Akutagawa-kun and the weretiger would maim each other by the end of the night.”

“I-I mean, maybe you and Dazai…”

Chuuya seems to pale at the idea. “You did not just suggest that. Do you not want to room with me?”

Kunikida flushes. “It’s not that…”

“Good. Then it’s settled. We’ll take this room.” Chuuya nods at the staff member who led them here. “Thanks. We’ll be fine from here.”

As the staff member walks away, Chuuya pats Kunikida’s shoulder. It feels more like a slap. “Okay! Who’s staying with who on your side?”

“Ah. The president is staying with Kenji, Yosano-sensei and Kyouka, Dazai and Ranpo-san, Atsushi and Jun’ichirou, and Naomi and Haruno.”

“Cool. The boss is staying with Elise, obviously. Then there’s Hirotsu-san and Tachihara, the Akutagawa siblings together, and Ane-san and Higuchi. Anyway, you should get ready. I’ll bring our bags up myself.”

“Alright. Thanks,” Kunikida says, heading into the cabin. Chuuya waves, leaving. 

When Kunikida enters the room, he takes his shoes off and walks in to look at the layout. The first thing he sees is a fireplace and two maroon couches, creating a cosy living space. There’s also a coffee table sitting on top of the hardwood floors. To the side of that is the bathroom, complete with complimentary toiletries, towels, and bathrobes. When he walks in further, he sees a sliding door that leads to the deck, and another door that must be the bedroom. 

Kunikida opens the sliding door and pops his head out, seeing that the deck is connected with the other rooms on the floor. It’ll be easy for communication purposes in the case of an emergency, he notes. 

He closes the door and opens the bedroom door, and his smile immediately drops. 

…There’s only one bed. 

This can’t be right. He’s certain he booked separate beds for every room. Kunikida dashes out of this cabin and to the one directly next to them, not bothering to put on his shoes. When he looks at the bedroom there, there are two separate beds, just as he booked. 

“What the fuck,” Kunikida mutters. 

Like a crazed man, he proceeds to check every single room down the hall. They all come with separate beds, which begs the question: Why is it just their cabin?

As Kunikida walks back to their cabin, he wonders how he will break the news to Chuuya. It wouldn’t be too weird to just change their cabin, right? They could switch with Haruno and Naomi, for example. The girls won’t mind sharing. 

Don’t be ridiculous, he hears a voice whisper in his mind, it’s just Chuuya. It’s not a big deal.

“It is a big deal,” he says out loud to himself, and no one replies. 

Grumbling, Kunikida enters their cabin again and heads straight for the shower. He’s already wasted time checking all these rooms. He had set aside time to get ready for the party, so now he has to catch up. He can deal with this later. 

After a boiling shower that Kunikida thoroughly enjoyed, he dries himself and puts on a bathrobe, humming at how fluffy it is. He steps out of the bathroom and heads to the bedroom, noting the extra pair of shoes at the entrance. Chuuya must’ve brought their bags up already.

Kunikida notices that the bedroom door is ajar and he pushes it open, freezing in his tracks when he sees Chuuya inside. 

No, not just Chuuya. Chuuya’s shirtless.

He has pitch black trousers on and is holding a purple dress shirt in his hands. He startles and turns, revealing things Kunikida should not be looking at. Kunikida doesn’t have his glasses on—he left them on the coffee table—but it doesn’t take a genius to know what expression Chuuya has right now. 

“Um…” Chuuya begins, laughing softly. “Need anything?”

Kunikida averts his eyes, flushing. “S-sorry. My bad.” He slams the door shut, pulling the bathrobe tighter around himself, and scurries back to the bathroom in shame. 

“I did not see anything,” he mutters to himself, attempting to erase the image from his mind. “It’s fine. Just an accident.”

When he looks at himself in the mirror, his cheeks are a ruddy red, the colour flooding all the way down to his neck. Kunikida groans, burying his head in his hands. 

Chuuya’s hot, Kunikida’s traitorous mind whispers. He wishes to take it out and throw it against the wall for thinking such indecent things. 

A few minutes later, there’s a soft knock on the bathroom door. “Hey. You can come out now.”

Kunikida steels himself, then opens the door and sees Chuuya waiting with his arms crossed. He doesn’t have his jacket on, but the purple shirt is now on and buttoned, save for the last one at the top. Kunikida mumbles something unintelligible and pushes past him, hurrying to the bedroom to grab his clothes. 

He pulls the black suit—the one he uses for all formal events—out of his suitcase, along with a white dress shirt. He ensures to lock the door this time, and Chuuya doesn’t try to come in. 

He had brought a hairdryer as well, because one can never be too prepared. After he dries and combs his hair, putting it up in its usual style, his watch reads 4.55pm. Just in time. 

He comes out of the bedroom to grab his glasses and sees Chuuya on one of the seats, flipping through a magazine. Chuuya gives him a small smile, which Kunikida assumes is forgiveness, but it doesn’t make him feel any better. 

“You don’t have to look so constipated. You barely saw anything,” Chuuya laughs, but when Kunikida puts his glasses back on, he notices the pink on Chuuya’s cheeks. 

Kunikida grimaces. “Of course. We should head to the ballroom. The others are probably here already.”

Chuuya closes the magazine and tosses it onto the coffee table, standing up. “I already informed the staff about the rooms, so they’ll deal with baggage. Let me grab my jacket and we can head down.”

Chuuya disappears into the bedroom once more and Kunikida makes a mental check on his things. He has his phone, his notebook and pen, and his wallet on him. He also has an extra hair tie on his wrist in case of an emergency, and he can’t wear his ribbon with this shirt, so it’s tied around his other hand. 

When Chuuya comes back out with a black jacket, he also has on a black tie and gloves. His dress shirt, however, remains unbuttoned at the top, so his tie looks a lot more loose rather than formal. Kunikida tears his gaze away from the bare skin showing and clears his throat. "You look… presentable."

Chuuya snorts. "A compliment indeed. Ane-san texted me. They've already kickstarted the appetisers. Also, your main detective is terrorising the food table."

"Main detective? Oh, Ranpo-san." Kunikida sighs. "We better get going then."

They leave the cabin together, walking down the hall and towards the stairs that will lead them to the ballroom. When they do, Kunikida is impressed to see the food table filled with appetisers, along with a chocolate fondue that the Black Lizard are gasping over, and actual tables and chairs this time. 

Kenji, Naomi, and Kyouka are seated together, chatting over a plate of takoyaki. Sigma is with Dazai and looking increasingly tired, which isn't very out of the ordinary. Fukuzawa and Ranpo are together, talking quietly among themselves. Poe and Lucy are together too, though Poe is hovering awkwardly near Ranpo and Lucy is busy entertaining Karl.

He sees Aya talking to Higuchi and Elise, and while his instincts tell him to cut between them, he reminds himself that this is the whole point of the party. To celebrate the union between the Agency and the Mafia, and to make good relations with those of the opposite side.

They walk down the stairs together. Yosano is the first to spot them, and she waves, holding up a wine glass. Kunikida wants to chastise her for drinking so early, but Chuuya's eyes shine and he doesn't get a chance to do anything before he's quickening his pace.

"It's five, Yosano-sensei," Kunikida grumbles as they approach her. She laughs, punching him in the shoulder.

"It's just juice. The real wine comes later." Chuuya's face falls.

"Why are you using the wine glass, then?"

"For aesthetic purposes."

Kunikida wonders why he asked. 

Dazai begins approaching them and Chuuya immediately makes a run for it. He dashes off to join Akutagawa and Bram, who are surprisingly having a conversation. Kunikida does not want to know what they could possibly be talking about. Dazai comes up to him with a pout, leaning on his cane and holding a plate of fried gyoza. 

"He runs every time I come close," Dazai whines while offering up the plate. Yosano swipes one off and Kunikida rolls his eyes.

"Go figure. I haven't seen Atsushi or Jun'ichirou yet. Where are they?"

"Still in their cabin. Atsushi-kun can't find his compression gloves. He doesn't know that I already brought extras because I knew he would forget!"

Kunikida hums. Dazai is awfully thoughtful in that aspect. "That's alright. How is everyone finding the rooms, by the way?"

"It's great!" Yosano pipes up. "I love the shared deck. The adults can hangout there at night. It'll be like a fun afterparty!"

"Ooh, speaking of rooms, how's yours and Chuuya's?" Dazai asks.

Kunikida narrows his eyes in suspicion. "It's fine… it's unlike you to ask."

"Maybe I'm just wondering how my two favourite partners are doing living in a shared space!"

Something in Kunikida clicks. He restrains himself from grabbing Dazai's collar, only because he needs to look presentable in a place like this. "You! You meddled with the beds somehow, didn't you?!"

"Kunikida-kun, don't be silly. How could I do something like that?"

"You tell me," he grouches. "Whatever! It's not a big deal, so your meddling is ineffective."

"Hm. Your red face doesn't agree with you."

"I am going to get a drink," Kunikida snaps, glaring. Dazai shrugs, stuffing a gyoza obnoxiously into his mouth. Kunikida stalks off, heading to the drinks pitcher.

As he's pouring himself a glass of whatever that red liquid is, someone comes up to him. He turns, startling when he comes face-to-face with Kouyou. He can't seem to catch a break with these Mafia executives.

"...Hello, Kouyou-san," he says, hoping he doesn't sound as nervous as he feels. "How are you enjoying the party?"

"Oh, it's great." She beams, but her expression sombers quickly. "What are your intentions with Chuuya?"

Kunikida blanches. "Sorry?"

"Yes, you heard me. I have asked this same question to the weretiger about Akutagawa-kun. I must know your answer as well."

Kunikida pauses. What do he and Chuuya have to do with Atsushi and Akutagawa? Their partnership? Kunikida and Chuuya have never been on a mission together before, though, so that must mean—

"Oh." Kunikida grimaces hard. "You're misunderstanding. We are not like that. At all. "

Kouyou looks unfazed. "You're a strong member of the Agency, Kunikida-san. I respect you and your work very much. However," she points a finger at him, revealing sharp red nails that could probably poke his eyes out, "if you lay a finger on Chuuya, you can kiss the Agency goodbye. If you hurt him in any way, I will find you. That is, if Chuuya himself doesn't find you first."

"What are you two talking about?" Chuuya asks, seemingly popping out of nowhere.

Kunikida jumps. He can't say it out loud, but sometimes he genuinely does not see Chuuya coming towards him. It doesn't help that Chuuya doesn't have his hat on, which makes him even shorter than he already is. But Kunikida has spent enough time with him to know that if he voices that out loud, Chuuya will levitate the whole night out of spite. For the sake of peace, he keeps his mouth shut.

"Just formalities," Kouyou replies smoothly. "I will go talk to Kyouka now, if you don't mind." She nods at them both and leaves, not before giving Kunikida a warning look. 

Chuuya peaks into his cup. "What's that?"

Kunikida shrugs, bringing it to his lips to take a sip. He winces at the overtly sweet flavour. "Cranberry juice, I think. It's very sweet."

Chuuya wrinkles his nose. "Yuck. Oh, there's the weretiger and the illusionist." 

Kunikida follows his gaze and sees Atsushi and Jun'ichirou running down the stairs together, both looking frantic. He shakes his head in amusement. He watches as they both bow apologetically for being late. 

Ranpo drags Jun'ichirou away to try some food, whereas Atsushi remains to catch his breath. Surprisingly, Akutagawa walks up to Atsushi, a frown on his face. He gestures to his hands while talking, which makes Kunikida notice the lack of gloves.

Atsushi waves his hands around as he replies, bouncing on his feet. He tends to do that when he’s stressed. Akutagawa rolls his eyes and even from their distance, Kunikida can hear him call Atsushi a fool. In a split second, Rashoumon manifests, huge and threatening with its presence. Kunikida instinctively steps forward, but then Rashoumon shrinks until it twirls around Atsushi's fingers, wrapping his hand with the cloth and tightening. Atsushi's shoulders, which were tense beforehand, drop as he relaxes. 

There's an obvious flush on Akutagawa's face as he snaps something unintelligible while Atsushi gapes at him. Kunikida wonders if that's what he and Chuuya seem like to others. He erases that thought before it can fluster him.

"I've been begging Akutagawa-kun to confess for so long," Chuuya mutters, crossing his arms.

"Confess? You think he likes Atsushi like that?"

"Uh, obviously. Do you know how much he talks about your weretiger? It's constant. It's so annoying," Chuuya scoffs, but he's smiling as he speaks. "I'm happy for him."

His mind flashes to Atsushi carrying an unconscious Akutagawa, holding his body close, a protective glint in his eyes. Kunikida nods in understanding. "I see."

"Yeah. I bet they'll get together by tonight."

Kunikida winces. "I don't want to imagine them like that. Keep that to yourself."

Chuuya bursts into laughter and Kunikida hides a smile behind his drink.

…It's still too sweet. He's going to pass this off to Ranpo later.

The evening drags on with lots of delicious food and even more chaos. 

Kenji befriends every single Mafia member there is. Tachihara has somehow gotten a knife pointed to his throat twice, one from Kyouka and one from Gin. Lucy and Atsushi stand in a corner gossiping the whole time, glaring at anyone who tries to interrupt. Dazai and Ranpo chase each other around with a lighter. Kunikida has no clue where they got one but he refuses to interfere. 

Fukuzawa and Higuchi are having a delightful conversation about cats. Hirotsu and Tanizaki are also engaged in conversation, which is the most surprising duo of the night. Chuuya is being dragged around by Aya and Elise, who insist on feeding him every dish there is. It’s amusing to watch. 

Poe, Bram, and Sigma stand in a corner together, each doing their own thing. They loom over everyone ominously, and the only person who has not steered clear of them is Ranpo, who tries to drag Poe into his and Dazai’s game of catch. Poe vehemently denies. 

When night falls and the moon rises high, some guests begin to go home. Most of the Mafia’s members take their leave. Aya goes home with chocolate smeared on her lips and a wide smile, holding onto Bram’s hand. Lucy and Poe leave together too, not without waving goodbye to everybody in the room. 

Kenji grows sleepy first due to his ability, so Fukuzawa carries him back and bids them goodnight. Mori also retires for the night. Hirotsu is about to, but Tachihara convinces him to remain. Kyouka insists that she wants to stay up, and it is a celebration, so Kunikida relents. 

“Kunikida! Come drink with us!” Yosano yells, holding up a wine glass with actual wine this time. 

Kunikida begins protesting, as he always does, but Dazai appears by his side, knocking his shins with his cane. Kunikida hisses in pain and glares at him. “Come on, just a glass. It’s just adults now.”

“Atsushi and Jun’ichirou are not what I would consider adults,” Kunikida hisses. “Naomi too. And Kyouka! You’re setting a horrible example.”

“Atsushi-kun and Jun’ichirou-kun can drink!”

“What about Kyouka and Naomi then?!”

“It’s not like it matters. I’m an ex-mafia member. Anyway, Gin-chan drinks too.”

“…How old are they, actually?”

“I dunno. It’s ambiguous in the Mafia. Anyway! Join us!” 

Dazai physically drags Kunikida to where a small circle has formed. A wine glass ends up in his hands, filled with a pale pink liquid that’s fizzy at the surface. He swirls it slowly, watching the bubbles rise, and someone sits next to him. 

“It’s Rosé champagne. A classic. And the colour is gorgeous,” Chuuya says. Kunikida looks over at him, noting the soft flush on his cheeks. He knows from Dazai that Chuuya is a lightweight, so he wonders if he’s already tipsy. 

Kunikida holds the glass next to Chuuya’s face. “Hm. Matches your cheeks.”

He immediately regrets those words, especially after Chuuya’s eyes grow wide. He looks away hastily, cheeks darkening. 

Desperately needing something to do, Kunikida downs the whole glass in one go. Yosano and Tachihara cheer him on while Atsushi makes a panicked noise, yelling at him to slow down. 

The liquid slides down his throat. It has a fruity flavour that lingers in his mouth. Dazai yells out that they should head outside, and the party shifts to the deck.

Outside, there’s a gentle breeze creating a cool environment. The night’s still young, and there’s a full moon hanging majestically overhead, casting a soft silver glow over the ship. There aren’t any chairs, so people either lean on the railings or sit on the floor chatting. 

Ranpo convinces everyone to do a drinking game. Kunikida is pretty sure it’s only because Fukuzawa isn’t around to send him a disapproving look. He wasn’t going to join, but even Kyouka joins the circle, and Kunikida needs to make sure she isn’t actually drinking, so he has to join them too. 

He ends up in between Kyouka and Dazai, who looks like he’s already cooked up seven mischievous plans. 

“Never have I ever!” Dazai shouts, holding his glass up, and Kunikida can already feel a sinking regret in his stomach. “Never have I ever gone to jail!”

“You did go to jail stupid!” Chuuya hollers back from the other side of the circle. “I broke you out!”

Dazai cackles, taking a massive swig of his glass. Kunikida thinks he just wanted an excuse to drink. 

Weirdly enough, no one else in the circle drinks. Considering that all of them have engaged in illegal activities at some point, it comes as a surprise. 

“I technically went to jail once,” Kyouka says with a frown. 

Dazai leans over. “You can give me a sick fist bump for that.”

They fist bump over Kunikida’s lap. He sighs deeply. 

Atsushi is next. He holds his glass with tentative fingers, shrinking under everyone’s stare. “Uh… I’ve never… had my first kiss?”

There’s a collective groan around the circle. More glasses are raised this time around. Kunikida attempts to be discreet, but unfortunately he’s seated next to Dazai, so he cannot escape. 

“You’ve had your first kiss, Kunikida-kun?” Dazai gasps. “When?”

“Piss off. I was 16 and curious, okay?”

Dazai does not, in fact, piss off, and continues badgering him until the next person goes. 

The game continues round the circle. There’s some that are obviously targeted, like Higuchi saying she’s never been a part of the military police, or Yosano saying she’s never stolen a car. Kunikida had glared at her as he drank, which prompted a lot of laughs from the Mafia side. 

Halfway through, the turn is passed to Chuuya, who already looks severely drunk. “Never have I ever…” Chuuya slurs, and the circle waits with bated breaths, “used a gun.”

“What the fuck!” Tachihara jeers. “That has to be a lie!”

“Come to think of it, he always just throws bullets with his ability,” Atsushi muses. 

“Not fair! You pointed one at me three months ago!” Dazai whines. 

“No, that doesn’t count. It was a trick, so I didn’t actually use it.”

“That literally makes no sense,” Higuchi mutters as she sips. It’s a testament to how drunk Chuuya is getting, Kunikida supposes. 

The only people who don’t drink are Gin, Haruno, and Kouyou. That probably says a lot about the group of people here.

Kunikida doesn’t actually end up drinking much for the night. By the time the clock hits two, he’s only slightly tipsy. They finally stumble back to their respective cabins together, some hanging on to others. 

“Enjoy your night, Kunikida-kun,” Dazai chirps from beside him, wobbling slightly. Atsushi places his hand on his shoulder to steady him. 

Kunikida scoffs. “Even when you’re this out of it, I’m sure you’re plotting something evil.”

“You wound me! It looks like Chibi’s gonna pass out, though. You might want to help him.”

Kunikida turns around, seeing that Dazai is in fact right. Chuuya is laughing and barely standing, using Akutagawa as support. With a deep sigh, Kunikida bids his friends goodnight and approaches his roommate. 

Akutagawa glares at him warily. Chuuya doesn’t seem to have noticed his presence yet. “I’ll take care of him, don’t worry.”

“…You won’t hurt him?”

It sounds like a stupid question, but Kunikida understands where he’s coming from. They’ve had a rough history. After being enemies for so long, it could be considered instinct to fight each other, to bare your fangs and go out for blood. However, thinking about it now, Kunikida only has one answer. 

“I swear on my life I won’t,” he says, placing a hand over his heart. 

Akutagawa gives him a long look before bowing his head and handing Chuuya over. Chuuya stumbles into his arms and Kunikida grabs his shoulders to steady him, letting him lean his weight on him. 

“I think Atsushi is waiting for you. Go on,” Kunikida encourages, seeing Atsushi lingering outside his cabin room, rocking on his feet. Akutagawa stiffens, clearing his throat and nodding. He stalks off and Kunikida turns his attention back to the mafioso in his arms. 

“Come on, Chuuya-san. Our room is just the next one from here.”

“Mm. Okay.”

Chuuya slumps further and Kunikida wobbles trying to hold him up. With a sigh, he slides an arm under Chuuya’s knees and sweeps him up entirely. 

It should’ve been expected, considering his stature, but Chuuya is pretty light. But knowing how much muscle he’s packing, he’s surprised at how easily he lifts Chuuya up. 

Chuuya grumbles and wiggles in his arms, mumbling something Kunikida can’t catch. He tightens his hold and heads into their cabin, kicking off his shoes. From there, he lays Chuuya down on one of the couches. 

Chuuya’s eyes are drooping heavily. Kunikida kneels down to pull his shoes off for him, placing them next to his by the door. He then heads to his bag and takes out a water bottle, finishing the whole thing in one go. 

He spots Chuuya’s water bottle—a dark red plastic one with a sheep sticker on it—on one of the nightstands, and walks over to grab it. Coming back out, he sees that Chuuya has given up on sitting upright and is now slumped to the side. 

“Chuuya-san,” Kunikida calls. “You should drink some water. It’ll help with the hangover.”

Chuuya makes a noise of acknowledgement but doesn’t move an inch. Kunikida squats beside him, nudging the bottle to his face. That makes him blink his eyes open, though they remain unfocused. 

Trying to move Chuuya when he’s this out of it is surprisingly easy. He melts in Kunikida’s hands, going along with every action or motion. For how powerful Chuuya is on the regular, Kunikida is surprised. If he didn’t know any better, he’d think that Chuuya trusts him with his life or something. 

While Chuuya takes small sips from his water bottle, some clarity returns to his eyes. Kunikida encourages him to take a quick shower and change into more comfortable clothing. Chuuya hums an agreement and grabs his clothes before making his way to the bathroom with slow, heavy steps. Kunikida prays he won’t fall over in the shower. 

When he hears the water start running, he heads into the bedroom to take his pyjamas out. It’s just a loose t-shirt and grey pyjama pants. After he changes, he turns on the nightshade, encompassing the room with a dim, golden glow. He then takes out his notebook and climbs into bed, checking his schedule for the next day. 

Fukuzawa had allowed a day off at the Agency after the party, knowing that they’ll be staying up late. It’ll be a Saturday tomorrow anyway, and he encouraged them to relax. Kunikida knows he should rest, but he can’t help feeling unproductive if he doesn’t have anything scheduled at all. So he is planning to head to the office and do some simple logistics work, as well as plan the Agency’s budget for the next month, and…

As he’s scribbling away, he hears the bathroom door open. Few seconds later, Chuuya appears, wearing a bright red pyjamas set that looks entirely too loose on him. He seems to be drowning in the fabric, and Kunikida… Kunikida kind of wants to hold him. 

Chuuya doesn’t say anything, probably exhausted enough as it is. He doesn’t even mention the shared bed, instead choosing to flop dramatically on the mattress and bury his head into the pillow. 

Kunikida snorts. “Your hair is still wet. Don’t fall asleep just yet.”

“Shut the fuck up,” Chuuya says. Kunikida huffs. At least he’s coherent now. 

He shuts his notebook and places it on the nightstand, takes off his glasses, and stands up to grab his hairdryer from earlier. After a bit of persuasion, he manages to pull Chuuya into a sitting position. 

As Kunikida dries his hair for him, he runs gentle fingers through his locks, feeling how soft Chuuya’s hair is. It makes sense—he must have good products at home. He uses his fingers to comb through his hair, letting a peaceful moment envelop them. 

When he’s done, he turns the hair dryer off, running his fingers through one last time. It suddenly occurred to Kunikida that he didn’t ask for permission. Chuuya just let him do so. Let him dry his hair with no questions asked. 

It feels domestic. Kunikida’s heart rate jumps.

Chuuya turns around, mustering up a smile. It’s tiny and barely there, but so, so genuine. Kunikida thinks that he should smile like this more often. He looks radiant, like a sprouting flower in an empty grass field. The centre of attention.

“Thank you,” Chuuya says. “No one’s done that for me before.”

“O-oh. Yeah, no problem,” Kunikida replies. His voice is shaking. It’s utterly embarrassing. 

Silence ensues as Chuuya doesn’t say anything else, instead watching Kunikida with lidded eyes. Kunikida finds himself pinned under that stare, unable to scurry away, unable to move closer either. 

From this distance, Kunikida can see freckles scattered on Chuuya’s skin. They look like tiny constellations of stars and he wonders if he could trace every single one, connecting the dots. Kunikida can see the exact shade of brown Chuuya’s eyes are—a soft muted colour that could tell a million stories. The light from the lamp gives his hair a majestic hint of gold. He can probably count every eyelash, feel every breath, and he’s so close—

Chuuya leans in, and Kunikida’s heart jackhammers at a rapid pace. Something in his head screams yes, and he feels desperation in his veins to bring Chuuya closer, to intertwine their bodies until their breaths mingle with every touch. 

He wonders if Chuuya can tell—if he can sense the yearning that runs through his bones, encapsulating his beating heart. He wonders if Chuuya feels it too. Wonders if him leaning closer means that he shares that same sentiment—that devilish crave for more. 

Except…

Kunikida pulls away. Chuuya doesn’t move back, but his eyes do widen a little. Before he can say anything, Kunikida places a hand on his shoulder, maintaining that distance. “You’re drunk, Chuuya-san. You’re not in the right headspace.”

Chuuya’s lips part. Kunikida’s eyes are drawn to that miniscule movement, and he’s hit with the deep urge again to just go for it, but he cannot. If he gives in to his desire, he’ll never forgive himself. 

Because he wants Chuuya so bad, but he cannot be sure if Chuuya wants him, or if he just wants someone. 

“Kunikida,” Chuuya begins, but Kunikida shakes his head. 

“Whatever it is, you can decide if you still want to say it tomorrow. But not right now, Chuuya-san.”

“…Can you at least just call me Chuuya?”

Kunikida’s breath hitches. Chuuya stares at him with expectant, pleading eyes, and Kunikida is weak. He feels a part of his restraint crumble under that look. 

“Okay. Goodnight, Chuuya.”

Chuuya beams, and Kunikida thinks that he would give up thousands to keep that smile there, however selfish it may be. 

He shifts to turn off the lamp. He checks that both their phones are charging and that alarms are set for the next morning. 

Now, shrouded in darkness, he is unable to see Chuuya, but he doesn’t have to. He can feel every dip in the mattress, hear every breath he takes, even smell the flowery scent of the cabin’s provided shampoo. They’re on different sides of the bed, but Chuuya’s right there. Kunikida can easily reach over and embrace him, hold him tight for the night, and just overall exist together. 

He would like that. To simply exist with Chuuya, not as a detective and a mafioso, but just as themselves. Just the two of them. 

With that thought in mind, Kunikida drifts off into a deep slumber.

Kunikida is used to waking up early. 

It’s part of the reason he struggles with days off. No matter how hard he tries, his body gets up at 6am like clockwork. Even if his alarm is set for a few hours later; even if he had a late night. 

So like clockwork, Kunikida blinks the sleep out of his eyes at 6 in the morning, groaning. It’s not that he isn’t tired, but he knows it’ll be difficult for him to go back to sleep like this. 

He tries to roll over to grab his glasses—maybe he can get some work done at least—but he’s stopped when he realises that something is holding on to him. Or rather, someone. 

Somehow, in the middle of the night, Chuuya has managed to roll all the way over to Kunikida’s side of the bed and wrap his limbs around him like a koala bear.

Kunikida’s cheeks flush. Chuuya isn’t just holding onto him, he’s actively snuggling into the embrace, his face buried in Kunikida’s chest. It’s like his body has claimed Kunikida as a bolster. The grip is impossible to escape from without waking him up. 

Kunikida hesitates, then brings his arms down. He places them around Chuuya’s head, holding him close, hoping his rapid heartbeat doesn’t somehow wake him up. 

Chuuya is so holdable like this. He’s extremely powerful and loud and could create black holes, but he’s also… small. Incredibly so. Kunikida wonders if it’s the reason Chuuya is so outspoken. 

Kunikida loves being able to hold him close like this. He loves that Chuuya fits right into his arms, that their bodies meld together like a glove. And he knows this isn’t fair—for him to consciously keep Chuuya in his embrace while he remains dead to the world—but he can’t help it.

He wants to move. He doesn’t deserve this. But it’s so early, and if Chuuya wakes up without enough sleep it’ll worsen his hangover, plus he’s seen Chuuya’s working habits and knows that he doesn’t sleep much. If Chuuya is sleeping so soundly right now, resting his exhausted body, who is Kunikida to wake him?

Chuuya shifts and one of his hands loosen. Kunikida thinks for a moment that he had woken up anyway, but then Chuuya rolls over, flopping onto his back. He’s laid out like a starfish now, one hand still splayed on Kunikida’s chest, but at least he isn’t clinging anymore. 

Kunikida kind of misses it. 

Sighing, he pushes himself into a sitting position, careful not to move Chuuya too much. When he’s up, he fumbles for his glasses and phone, glancing at the time. 

6.19am.

The light is blinding, even with the brightness lowered to the minimum. Unlocking his phone, he notices tons of messages from the Agency’s group chat, mostly from last night. 

There’s a lot of incoherent messages on Dazai and Yosano’s parts. Majority of the notifications are from Ranpo, who had sent a bunch of photos and videos from the night before. 

Kunikida clicks on the photos and scrolls through them, chuckling quietly. There’s one of Aya sitting on Poe’s shoulders, some photos of the Black Lizard playing Uno, many of Dazai annoying various individuals with his cane. Some photos are posed for, like the one with Bram and Karl, Tanizaki and Kenji, or a group Agency photo that Kunikida doesn’t even remember taking. 

The videos are all blurry and horribly filmed. Ranpo’s commentary is in all of them. 

— “Akiko is trying to show Ed a magic trick,” Ranpo says as the camera pans to the two of them. Yosano is holding a bunch of poker cards. Poe looks completely lost. “She’s so full of shit.”

— “I have seen Atsushi-kun fail at beer pong four times already. Dazai-kun is gonna piss himself laughing.” 

— “Guys, Tachihara is getting hunted with a knife. I thought he could manipulate metal. Why is he running?” The camera pans to Gin chasing Tachihara around the deck. Higuchi is cheering them on.

— “Oh, look! There’s Mr Fancy Hat. He’s so out of it. He’s been staring at Kunikida-kun for the past ten minutes.”

Kunikida pauses, rewinding that video. He probably heard it wrong. Or Ranpo’s just making shit up so he can entertain the viewer. 

The video zooms in on Chuuya, who has a wine glass in his hand and is staring into the distance. His stare is hazy, and he remains unmoving as Ranpo talks. When the camera pans over to his line of sight, it shows Kunikida speaking with Naomi, laughing together. 

It is undeniable, but Kunikida wants to deny it anyway. Because Chuuya has a dreamy, faraway look in his eyes, and if he acknowledges that he’s the subject of that look, then that means… 

Whatever. He was probably just dazing out. Chuuya wouldn’t look at him like that.

Kunikida continues looking through the messages, even trying to decipher some of the typo-filled texts Yosano sent. The clock hits seven by the time he’s done, and the sun has begun to rise. 

Deeming this a socially acceptable time to get out of bed, Kunikida gently moves Chuuya’s arm off him and stands up. Once he ensures that Chuuya remains sound asleep, he leaves the bedroom and heads to the bathroom to wash up. 

As Kunikida washes his face, his mind flashes to Chuuya again, specifically last night. It’s a little bit hazy—maybe Kunikida was intoxicated too—but he can remember the distance between their lips and the desire pumping through his veins. 

He wonders if Chuuya will say anything when he wakes up. After all, Kunikida is sure that he and Chuuya will not work out like that. Truce or not, they’re on opposite sides. They grew up different. 

Kunikida had a relatively normal childhood. He went to school, applied for a teaching job to gain some extra cash, moved to Yokohama on his own and so on. He’s had his moments of rebellion and such, but it was fine overall. He was allowed to run and scream and laugh and be a child. 

Chuuya knows fists and blood and the cold blanket of loneliness that shrouds you when you grow up too fast. Kunikida notices it sometimes. How he seems like a hardened soldier, with the way he walks and speaks to others. Always alert. Always guarded. 

Last night… that was an exception. Chuuya was drunk, openly so, and vulnerable. Kunikida still doesn’t know what to think about it. That must mean that Chuuya considers the Agency a safe place, and that he trusts that Kunikida won’t lay a finger on him. 

He won’t. He never will. But he didn’t think Chuuya would think so either. 

Kunikida, at the age of 17, wrote down a list of ideals for his future partner. He hasn’t reached the age to meet them yet. 

But his ideals state that he’d like someone who is strong, kind, and loyal. Someone who fights in the face of failure. Someone organised and responsible.

Chuuya is the strongest person Kunikida knows. He’s kind in a silent manner, in the way he comforts stray animals and kneels when speaking to children and is thoughtful about Kunikida’s taste in things. He’s loyal, maybe to a fault, and won’t ever leave the Mafia. 

And Kunikida doesn’t need him to say it—he knows Chuuya and him are bonded by that shared scar of failure . Kunikida has failed to save many, and has kept going despite it, because one life lost means he must save five more. The way Chuuya speaks about loss is no different. He understands what it means for a loved one to slip from your fingertips. However far you reach, they’ll always be a league above. Unattainable.

Chuuya, like Kunikida, dedicates his soul to his work. It may not be the best behaviour, but that’s where routine and familiarity is. Chuuya spends his free time doing mission reports or organising parties like these, and he has been surprisingly easy to work with this whole time. He’s brave and dives headfirst into dangerous situations with nothing but fists and fury. He doesn’t back down.

If Kunikida didn’t know better, Chuuya is his ideal type. In every sense of the word. 

But there are many ideals that Chuuya doesn’t fit either, in regards to morale. Could Kunikida really be with someone who murders for a living? He isn’t a saint either—he has spat in the face of the law many times, but Chuuya’s an Executive. He’s used to blood on his hands and the awful sound of bones being crushed. Could Kunikida live with that knowledge, that Chuuya will always be a criminal, and he’s forced to either accept it or pretend it isn’t real?

It’s a dilemma that Kunikida didn’t think he’d face. He isn’t even supposed to be considering this now. He has work to do and reports to submit and friends to take care of. 

But still. He thinks of Chuuya’s warm smiles and husky laugh and horrible jokes that Kunikida now realises was flirting, and he wants. He’d let Chuuya ruin his days; let him smear blood onto his face and sink his fangs into his neck if he promises to soothe it with a kiss after. 

Chuuya isn’t easy by any means. But he’s worth the struggle and all the ideals he’ll go against. Kunikida knows it. 

After changing into some brown trousers and a black t-shirt, Kunikida heads back to the bedroom. Chuuya is still asleep, somehow sprawled out even further than earlier, and Kunikida chuckles at the adorable image. 

He notices a few messages on his phone and picks it up, rolling his eyes when he sees who it’s from. 

From: Dazai

> kunikidaaaa!!!!! good morning!!!!!!!!!!!!!

> the agency’s going for brunch after we checkout

> kenji’s idea!!

> are u coming????

From: Kunikida

> Just the Agency?

From: Dazai

> if you want to bring the slug he can come i guess

From: Kunikida

> Shut up

> Give us thirty minutes

He sighs, putting his phone down. They do have to check out by 9, so it shouldn’t hurt to wake Chuuya up now. 

With reluctance in his bones, Kunikida puts a hand on Chuuya’s shoulder, shaking it lightly. “Chuuya. Wake up.”

To his credit, Chuuya’s not that deep of a sleeper. His eyes blink open groggily and he groans, which, relatable. Kunikida waits for him to sit up before inviting him. “Good morning. The Agency is going to get brunch. Would you like to come?”

“Huh? Fuck.” Chuuya presses his palm to his forehead. Kunikida remembers last night and concludes that he must have a hell of a headache right now. “Ugh, whatever. Yeah.”

Half amused and half concerned, he sends a confirmation message to Dazai and grabs some water for Chuuya, pushing it in his hands. He also grabs some medication that is consumable without food, and would help with the headache, which Chuuya takes without complaint. It must be really bad, then. 

“You still have about an hour before we leave. Is there anything I can do?” Kunikida asks. 

Chuuya glares, though it’s weak. “How are you fine right now? No thank you.”

“I’m not as much of a lightweight as you are,” Kunikida laughs. He stands up, deciding to give Chuuya some space. “I’ll be in the living room if you need me.”

He heads towards the door, and right before he steps out of the room, Chuuya speaks up. “Kunikida?”

His voice is small and reminiscent of the night before. Kunikida’s breath hitches. He stops in his tracks, but he doesn’t dare turn his head back, not wanting to see what expression Chuuya has right now. 

“Yes?”

“…I’m sorry if I said anything weird last night.”

Kunikida’s heart drops. “You don’t remember?”

“Uh. It’s a little blurry right now. It’ll probably come back to me sooner or later.”

Kunikida doesn’t know if that’s a blessing or a curse. His throat feels awfully dry. “That’s alright. You didn’t say anything funny.”

Chuuya audibly swallows. “If you say so.”

Kunikida leaves the room, feeling like his heart is about to lurch out of his chest. He shuts the door and collapses onto one of the couches, covering his face with his hands. 

If Chuuya can’t recall anything, he supposes there’s no point in making a big deal about it. At least now, Kunikida is glad he didn’t give in. Chuuya wouldn’t have remembered it anyway. 

That thought creates a bitter feeling in his chest. 

After Chuuya is stable enough to stand without complaints, they pack their things up and leave the cabin, heading to the lobby. Chuuya’s in a stylish leather jacket and matching leather booths, and normally Kunikida would cringe at the sight—it reminds him of his younger self in his rebellious phase—but somehow Chuuya makes it work. Chuuya makes a lot of clothes work. It’s both impressive and infuriating. 

As they walk down the hallway together, Chuuya glances around. “Hm. I don’t remember walking back to the room. Was I really that drunk?”

“Ah, yeah.” Kunikida coughs into his fist. “I carried you back, that’s why.”

Chuuya gapes at him. Kunikida watches as a blush slowly forms on his cheeks while he attempts to respond. “Y-you..! What?!”

He shrugs. “You don’t need to be embarrassed.”

“I’m not!” Chuuya shouts. It echoes down the hallway and they both cringe. “I just don’t believe that.”

“You don’t believe I carried you?”

“I don’t believe you can,” Chuuya corrects, crossing his arms. 

Kunikida rolls his eyes and puts his bag down. He didn’t think Chuuya would underestimate him like this. He’s a martial artist. He’s going to prove it. 

He opens up his arms and Chuuya gives him an affronted look. They stare at each other, locked in a silent argument, before Chuuya throws his bag down and glares darkly. “Fine. Show me.”

With relative ease, Kunikida does what he did the night before, sweeping an arm under Chuuya’s knees. Chuuya yelps as he’s tilted sideways, scrambling to grasp Kunikida’s clothes. After making sure Chuuya’s head is supported, he lifts his arms higher, drawing Chuuya closer to his chest. 

With flushed cheeks, Kunikida gives him an expectant look. Chuuya makes a mess of expressions, ranging from fury to embarrassment and even defeat before he relaxes in Kunikida’s arms. “Fuck you. You win. Put me down.”

“Maybe I won’t, seeing as how rude you are,” Kunikida sniffs. It’s half a joke and half an excuse to carry Chuuya for a longer time. 

“I don’t think you’re weak or anything! But if I was drunk, I would’ve been deadweight! You didn’t even struggle carrying me back?”

“I don’t know if you forgot, Chuuya, but you’re quite small.”

“You—” Chuuya snaps, but he cuts himself off, eyes wide. Kunikida doesn’t understand why he looks so surprised until he says, “You called me Chuuya.”

Last night comes flooding back again, and Kunikida is reminded of the bitter knowledge that Chuuya cannot recall it. At least not now. Maybe never. 

He tears his gaze away from Chuuya, who’s still looking at him like he hung the stars. “Whatever. So what?”

Chuuya grins, looking all smug, and it hurts. “Aww. Are we best friends now? You don’t have to look so shy.”

Any other day, Kunikida would have dropped Chuuya out of pure embarrassment. But after the night before, all he feels is silent resentment. 

It’s not Chuuya’s fault, but Kunikida wants to believe it is anyway. How could Chuuya not remember? Is it not important enough?

Kunikida puts Chuuya down, picking up his bag. “The Agency is waiting. We should go.”

“Eh? Wait, Kunikida—”

Kunikida begins walking and he hears Chuuya follow after him. “I was just kidding. But I do want you to call me Chuuya. It’s not a bad thing.”

“I know,” Kunikida bites out, unable to help himself. “That’s what you said last night.”

Chuuya stops in his tracks and Kunikida cannot find it in himself to feel guilty. “…What?”

“Sorry. It’s whatever.”

“So I did say something stupid,” Chuuya sighs. He sounds resigned. “I should’ve known.”

“I’m not blaming you,” Kunikida says, feeling the need to clarify. “It was a party. You’re allowed to get drunk.”

“But I say dumb things when I’m drunk.”

“I won’t take it to heart.”

“No, Kunikida. Ugh, look at me.”

Kunikida is forcefully turned around by a firm grip on his arms. Chuuya has a fierce look in his eyes and his lips are set in a grim line. Kunikida is once again reminded of how gorgeous he truly is. It’s unfair, being pinned by that stare. It makes him feel weak. 

“I say dumb things when I’m drunk, but they’re not untrue. They’re just… things I won’t normally say. But whatever I said, it isn’t the way I wanted it. And for that, I’m sorry.”

Kunikida takes a deep breath. “I don’t need an apology. It wasn’t that serious.”

“No. You’re hiding something from me. What did I say to you? Tell me, and I’ll let it go.”

It’s not what you said. It’s what you almost did, Kunikida thinks. What we almost did.

Kunikida swallows, eyes dropping to Chuuya’s lips. It’s only for a split second, but Chuuya must’ve caught on, because he lets go of Kunikida’s arms and takes a small step back. 

“…Oh.”

“Chuuya—”

“Shit, I can’t believe I went that far. I’m really sorry. You don’t have to keep pretending it’s fine, I get it—”

“Did you mean it?” Kunikida interrupts. “Or was it just the alcohol talking?”

Chuuya winces. Kunikida pushes on. 

“Did you mean it?” he repeats. He takes a step forward, narrowing the gap. Chuuya looks conflicted, eyebrows furrowed in the way they do when he’s debating extremely hard about something. “Tell me. Please.”

“I…” Chuuya whispers. Kunikida’s fingers tremble as he reaches out, slow and steady. When Chuuya doesn’t pull away, he cups his cheek, brushing a strand of hair away from his eyes.

Chuuya’s feet shift and his body tenses, like he’s getting ready to run away. And he honestly could—he could easily rip himself away from Kunikida’s touch and make a dash for it, and Kunikida won’t be able to catch up. But despite the tremble of energy in his body, Chuuya remains rooted to the ground. 

A fighter, Kunikida thinks, his ideals singing. 

“I meant it,” Chuuya finally admits. “Every action, every word. It’s how I feel.”

Kunikida feels a rush of relief and delight and desire, all at once, flooding his every sense. He lets out a shaky breath and musters up a smile. “I’m glad. I feel the same way.”

Chuuya’s eyes light up. “Really?”

“Why don’t you come find out?”

With a wide grin, Chuuya grabs Kunikida’s shoulders and pulls him down, crashing their lips together. 

Chuuya kisses like fire. Hot and raging and fierce, relinquishing all forms of control. He holds on to Kunikida tightly, like he never wants to let go. 

His mouth is warm and it ignites something deep within Kunikida’s core. He kisses back with just as much hunger, letting go of all doubt and hesitance about Nakahara Chuuya. In this moment, Kunikida drops everything he’s planned for his future. He doesn’t need to wait any longer. His ideal love is right here in his arms, with kisses that feel like a never-ending dream.

He can feel Chuuya smile into the kiss and it makes laughter bubble up his throat. When he pulls back to catch his breath for a brief second, Chuuya’s eyes are glittering. He grins up at Kunikida with a look similar to the one in the video—a little hazy, but so undeniably in love. Now, Kunikida can acknowledge it. And he relishes in it. 

“You’re pretty good, sweetheart,” Chuuya says. 

Kunikida’s heart skips a beat. “Another nickname? You’re endless.”

“That blush on your cheeks is telling me that you’re not complaining.”

“I didn’t say I didn’t like it, pretty boy,” Kunikida laughs. 

Chuuya flusters almost immediately. His cheeks turn as red as his hair. It’s adorable. 

“Huh. You can’t take what you dish?” Kunikida asks, just to be a little bit annoying. Chuuya glares, but the effect is weakened when he looks like a tomato. 

“Shut the fuck up. I hate you.”

Kunikida hums, leaning down to kiss him again. He pours as much love and admiration as he possibly can into the kiss. 

He hopes Chuuya can feel it. Every bit. 

Feeling bold, Kunikida places a hand on Chuuya’s back and presses him closer. Chuuya’s gasp is muffled into the kiss. Another rush of desire floods his veins. 

“Kunikida,” Chuuya whispers when they part. “May I be yours?”

There’s something so vulnerable about that request. The request to exist together, just as themselves, for as long as life saw fit. Exactly what Kunikida wants.

Still hugging him close, Kunikida nods, huffing out a laugh. “Of course, Chuuya.”

Chuuya beams brighter than the sun. 

They end up late when meeting up with the Agency, who are all standing in the lobby with their respective bags, talking among themselves. When Kunikida and Chuuya enter, lips kissed swollen and clothes a little more ruffled than when they put them on, they’re met with various boos. 

“What took you guys so long?” Yosano complains from where she’s sitting with Kenji and Atsushi. There’s playing cards on the table. 

“Yuck. Dazai-kun, you owe me,” Ranpo says. There’s no doubt he already caught on.

Dazai whines, flopping sideways on the couch. “Seriously?! You guys hate me.”

Kunikida watches in bafflement as Dazai hands over a ridiculously large amount of candy to Ranpo, who takes it with a barely concealed grin. Chuuya huffs out a laugh from beside him. 

“Alright! Atsushi-kun, you and Akutagawa-kun are next,” Dazai cheers, doing a complete 180. Atsushi flinches at being addressed, then has the gall to look horrified by the suggestion. 

“No! We’re not like those two!”

“You absolutely are like us,” Chuuya argues, using his ability to levitate up to Kunikida’s height and kiss his cheek. Kunikida snorts, but he’ll admit that it made his heart swoop. 

“You’re so silly,” he mumbles as Chuuya drops back down. 

“You’re the giant, not me. I’ll kiss you from the ceiling next.”

Kunikida laughs at the mental image. “Romantic. I’ll wait for the day.”

“Ew,” comes Kyouka’s voice. She looks at them with both disappointment and disgust, and Kunikida is feeling very judged. 

“Ew?” Chuuya repeats in offence. His cheeks are slightly red, which leads Kunikida to believe that he’s feeling a lot more shy than he’s letting on. “I’ll show you ew!”

“It’s about time we go, isn’t it?” Tanizaki calls with a nervous laugh. 

Kunikids glances at his watch, the knowledge that his now boyfriend was the one who gave it to him making it a precious treasure. “Yes. We’re already off schedule. Let’s go, everybody.”

They leave the cruise together, thanking the staff on the way out. Chuuya walks by his side the whole time, fingers brushing with each step, and Kunikida links their hands together.

Chuuya’s cheeks burn. “Don’t say a word.”

“I didn’t,” Kunikida replies, choking back a laugh. Chuuya huffs and squeezes his hand tighter. 

Nakahara Chuuya, Port Mafia Executive, coldhearted killer with arguably the most powerful ability in Yokohama, who goes against everything Kunikida stands for. 

Nakahara Chuuya, kind and loyal, who flirts badly and is an animal lover and whose heart bleeds with devotion for those he cares about, who is everything Kunikida could wish for. 

When Kunikida goes home, he is going to tear a few pages out from his notebook. His ideals can change. This feeling—this beautiful leap in his heart every time he catches Chuuya’s eyes—this won’t change. 

“Hey, Kunikida,” Chuuya calls as they walk to the place Naomi had suggested for brunch. 

“Hm?”

“After this, shall I take you out on a date?”

Kunikida flushes. “I was going to do some work at the office today, but if you’re insisting…”

“I am,” Chuuya says, firm and sure. “I’ll make you swoon, trust me. You’re gonna be head over heels. Over the moon. Delighted—”

Kunikida bursts out laughing, his chest feeling warm. “Alright, alright. Hit me with your best shot.”

Chuuya grins, and Kunikida is never going to get sick of that smile. “It’s on, sweetheart.”