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Night had fallen over Yokohama, but Chuuya was still wide awake. His head was spinning as thoughts were running through his mind. Heaving a deep sigh, he rolled over onto his side, curling up as if to keep himself together in his lonely room.
It had been only days, but he was still thinking about his recent encounters with a certain brunet. The former demon prodigy, the previous strategist of the Port Mafia, the other half of Soukoku…
Dazai Osamu.
His old partner.
He had expected his forgone anger to flare up again, for red to take over his vision as it had so many times in the past whenever he had to work with the stinky mackerel. Yes, their relationship had certainly been a strange one, often their interactions relied more on reflex than on logical thought when it came to teasing and bickering and also fighting.
But he hadn’t expected to feel so conflicted, too. Although it was never explicitly stated, trust had been a big part of their partnership as well. And much to Chuuya’s surprise, that trust hadn’t diminished in the slightest.
Which surely didn’t make sense! After all that happened, it would be logical if he could only trust the other as far as he could throw him (honestly a bad idiom seeing as he could throw Dazai quite far even without his ability, fucking lanky bastard). But there had been no hesitation as he left his life in the other’s hands.
At the same time, he knew that things had changed somehow.
That much was obvious to him when they met again after four years. Although old habits die hard and they both fell quickly back into their usual back and forth, it had felt… stilted somehow. As if they had been performing instead of really interacting. Of course even after all that time the bastard still knew which buttons to push for him to succumb to his temper. And of course Chuuya had followed along, even bringing up one of their old inside jokes.
But had all that posturing really been sincere? Yes, he had been angry, furious even! But somewhere deep down there had been joy? Or relief? Something warm at least at seeing his old partner still alive and kicking. Too many times had he wondered in the dead of night if the mackerel ever went through with one his attempts or if he would ever see that dead-eyed stare again.
Even though their interaction had been cut short (too many outside factors were in place for them to waste time in a Port Mafia dungeon), he certainly had noticed the change in the other. Physically it was obvious: some missing bandages (had both his eyes always been so bright?), no permanent scent of iron and blood and a change in posture, as if a weight had been lifted off the other’s shoulders.
How much the bastard had changed otherwise, Chuuya wasn’t too sure. He couldn’t quite recognize how much of their “play” had been habit and how much it had been their current disposition.
So as soon as he had left the waste of bandages behind, he had started to question their whole encounter. Had he just played along to the other’s whim like always? Would that interaction set the tone for all the following ones?
Their next meeting during the battle against those Guild members hadn’t been more conclusive in that regard. Sure, the stakes had been higher and that inexplicable trust had been put to the test, but he still couldn’t get a deeper look into their dynamics. After all, corruption had always been the reason the two of them were pushed together, if they wanted to or not.
Their current relationship (or lack thereof?) aside, there had been no hesitation for him. Of course he had (at least shallowly) protested but in the end also given in quickly and without restraint. Because he trusted that if his partner (ex-partner, he had to remind himself) asked for it, corruption was the most reliable option. Same as he trusted his partner to stop him before it got too far.
Because he just trusted Dazai.
Even though the brunet hadn’t cut off his power immediately or followed his wish to bring him to the extraction point (but had at least cleaned him up perfunctorily and brought him his discarded coat and hat) Chuuya’s doubts focused more on his own behavior than on the other’s intentions. He knew if he expected honesty from his ex-partner, he would only end up disappointed.
And maybe that was exactly the reason why he was still overthinking everything. In the past, although they certainly never talked about feelings or anything of personal importance, just being with each other constantly meant you learned about your partner. You learned how to recognize their mood or what they were thinking about. One learned to predict the other’s actions. But was that still true after four years? Chuuya felt like he could still read the other like an open book but at the same time also as if he was trying to translate a foreign novel with the wrong dictionary.
Silently, the redhead rolled onto his back, staring at the ceiling as if it held the answers to all his questions. With the truce in effect, he was sure their interactions with the ADA and certainly his interactions with the mackerel would only increase. What could he expect from that? Of course they both had their responsibilities and loyalties. But what about just the two of them. Was there even a reason to think about that?
He needed answers. Some sort of conclusion, because he was sure if every time meeting Dazai left him in a daze like this, it was only a matter of time until he fucked up in some way.
Sitting up, Chuuya unlocked his phone but his fingers stilled as if frozen when he pulled up that nearly forgotten, old contact. What should he even say?
Shaking his head, he decided to keep it simple. It would be good, if they got the opportunity to just talk it out first. Really, there was no need to overcomplicate things just yet. With his luck, the phone number wouldn’t even be valid anymore and all these conflicting feelings were completely pointless.
With a slight tremor in his fingers he typed and retyped a message, letting out a heavy breath as he finally sent it. Closing his eyes, he clasped his mobile phone between clammy palms, resting his elbows on his raised knees and his forehead on his knuckles.
Not long after a buzz disturbed the quiet. With a start he unlocked his phone in disbelief. There it was already, against all of his expectations: an answer. His chest felt numb as he read the content and sent back a confirmation, letting the phone slip from his fingers as he fell back into his pillows.
Although he tried his best to calm his mind and relax, he would not get any sleep that night. His head was swimming again, this time with hopeful expectations as well as plenty of doubts.
---
Chuuya knew it was likely useless to arrive overly punctual, but with the minutes ticking down to their arranged time he couldn’t sit still any longer. With a sigh he sat down at the edge of the warehouse’s roof, dangling his feet as he watched the water ripple in the distance.
Yokohama Port could be beautiful at this time of day with the sun setting above the city and turning the water a kaleidoscope of colors. Of course the Port Mafia had a lot of dealings here, shipping and receiving different goods, so Chuuya knew this area quite well. Well enough, that it was easy for him to find a place outside their official territory which was typically deserted in the evening hours. Even more so now that the aftermath of the Guild’s demise had finally been dealt with and things had slowly returned to normal.
Lost in his thoughts, it felt like only seconds had passed as he heard footsteps getting closer. When he turned around to look, Dazai was shielding his eyes from the sun with one hand, slightly leaning forward as if he was trying to see something in the distance.
“Strange… My dog asked me to meet him here, but I can’t find him.” he stated with an upbeat tone, as if he was talking about a small inconvenience. Straightening up, the detective faked an overly surprised expression as he looked down.
“Oh there you are, buddy! You’re so small I couldn’t quite see you!” he grinned, burying his hands deep in his pockets.
As if on reflex, Chuuya clenched his fists, feeling his blood boil immediately. Of course those would be the first words out of that fucking mackerel’s mouth! But with a forced breath he relaxed again, trying to ignore the humming the other started in the absence of an answer.
“So quiet and serious today. Then again, the slug must have a good reason to call me out of the blue. What’s up? Stumped in a case? Did you reach your intellectual limit?”
“Oh god, shut the fuck up!” Chuuya yelled, jumping to his feet but stopping before he could sucker punch the bastard. Great, exactly what he wanted to avoid.
“Can you just… keep serious for like five fucking minutes! I didn’t call you here for a case or any Port Mafia business.” he grouched, taking off his hat to run his fingers through his hair. Surprisingly, the other’s demeanor seemed to change at his words, the false cheeriness bleeding out of his posture and his eyes turning dark. As if he wanted to hide his thoughts and feelings on the matter.
Dazai took a few steps back, mustering the redhead from head to toe after he brought more distance between them. Whatever he saw, he seemed to recognize how serious this was to him. So the brunet just gestured as if he wanted Chuuya to take the stage.
“Well, I’m already here, so let’s hear it. What does Chuuya need from me?” he asked without any inflection, completely leaving the conversation up to the mafioso.
With a sigh, Chuuya put his hat back on top of his head, starting to tug at the tips of his gloves in a nervous habit. Even with all the overthinking he had done before this meeting, he wasn’t sure how to describe his actual intentions. Then again… what did he have to lose? He could just be blunt about it.
“What is our relationship, now?”
When Dazai just raised an eyebrow in surprise, he decided he would need to elaborate more.
“Professionally, I mean! Not like I’d ever want to date you or something!”
“Not like I would ever sink so low.” the brunet replied with a smirk. Chuuya gritted his teeth, calmly breathing in and out to get his temper to settle again.
“I’m loyal to the Port Mafia. You’re a traitor and now a member of the ADA. Sure, we’re in a truce, but at bottom we are still from rival organizations. It should be clear. But if there’s anything I learned over the years, it’s that things are never that clear cut, especially with you.” he quickly added, hoping to just talk over the other so he wouldn’t be interrupted again.
“We have a history, but what does it mean to you. To us, I guess. Where do we stand?” he clarified. But the other didn’t react, fallen back to a blank face and just watching him. Lowering his eyes, Chuuya decided for one last push.
“I just… I need to how to handle future missions with you. I don’t want to just act like we’re still stuck in the past of four years ago.”
With a sigh, Dazai finally decided to engage with him.
“As you said, you’re Port Mafia, I’m a member of the Armed Detective Agency. Why would we need to plan for the rare occasion of a joint mission?” the brunet shrugged, waving his left hand up and down as if he was dismissing the point.
“You know as well as I do that Mori will keep pushing us together. We’re Double Black. Why change a formula that’s working?” Chuuya agitatedly countered. “And be honest with me: You know me, how I think and move in a fight. At the very least I’m a convenient weapon to you. So don’t lie to me and say that you won’t call on me if it fits your purpose.”
Seems like Dazai had no argument against that, as he just threw his head back as if the answer lied in the stars slowing appearing in the darkening sky. After a minute of silence during which the redhead tried to decide if pacing would help him get rid of his agitation or just be a show of vulnerability, the other seemed to come to a conclusion.
“You said it yourself: Why change a working formula. Why should we do anything different. Things worked out so far, did they not?” was the reply, but the tone it was spoken in seemed to imply that Dazai was still contemplating the details. Chuuya only huffed.
“But we’re not those two people anymore!” he countered, before hesitantly continuing when those brown eyes fixed their stare on him.
“Whatever we had was fucking terrible. It was toxic and… I don’t know what you got from it, but I knew I used you as a scapegoat for all my anger and troubles. To me our partnership was a burden more than it was a convenience. I mostly trusted you to act in my favor cause our partnership and my functionality was in the interest of the Port Mafia.”
He didn’t really want to add that against all odds his trust went further than that logic. He didn’t know why. Depending on how this conversation would go, he might not want to ever find out. Would knowing the reason just leave him with another weak spot to be used by others or could he tighten his defenses if he knew more? What would be the better decision?
“And now I’m not obliged to the Port Mafia anymore.” Dazai observed, brining Chuuya’s thoughts back to their conversation.
“Yeah, but that’s not the point! Or not completely… I think it’s clear to see that we’re not who we were before. So why would we try and stab each other’s back at every turn? I mean, fuck… I can’t stand you and you drive me crazy! I don’t think we’ll ever be able to just talk to each other normally. But there’s a difference between… bantering and trying to hurt each other, I guess.” he tried to explain.
The detective hummed, raising his gaze up to the sky again in contemplation.
“I guess I see what you’re trying to say… And I could surely live without the lecture from Kunikida about professionalism and efficiency and whatever else he would come up with if we were to work together more often.” Dazai mused.
Well, at least it seemed like the other was agreeing with him in some way. Nervously, the redhead tugged on his gloves again.
“So… where do we go from here?” he asked.
“Hmmm… I guess that depends on what Chuuya wants from this?” Dazai suggested, as if he didn’t want to set any terms himself. But that was the big question, wasn’t it?
“I don’t know?” was the unsure reply, because that was his crux. The redhead knew that their old relationship was not sustainable the way there were going at it. But what was the right way to change it?
“I never even really knew where we stood, even when you were still in the Port Mafia.” Chuuya tried to reason. Dazai just sighed long and loud at that.
“It’s one thing to know what we were, but what is it that Chuuya wants us to be now? Or potentially in the future?” he asked again.
“That decision isn’t on me alone.” He tried to evade. But the brunet’s look made him think deeper on that.
“I… kinda miss the good times on occasion. When it felt like we were not stuck with each other but together willingly. Friendly times. Like taking a breather after sparring or getting a coffee before tackling some paperwork. I guess I’d like those… tranquil moments back. Simply… the friendly times.” he elaborated quietly. But could he hope for that again?
“If… if there was ever another person beside Odasaku and Ango I considered a friend on occasion, it would have been you.” Dazai replied quietly, surprising Chuuya. With wide eyes he stared at the other, lost for words. The other just threw him an awkward smile, not one of his artificial grins. The redhead had to swallow down the lump suddenly appearing in his throat.
“Yeah, I… me, too. I don’t want to forget about that part of our past, to be honest.” he confessed.
“Would be dumb to let such an opportunity go then, right? If it’s something we both want.” Dazai observed, walking forward to extend his hand to the other. “Maybe we… just see where this takes us. If we just try and be as we are now. Keep the animosity in the past, try to see if we can rekindle the good parts.” he proposed.
Chuuya didn’t even have to think hard or long about it.
“Yeah, that… that sound perfect actually.” he breathed out relieved, gripping the other’s hand. After shaking once, they both let go at the same time, now just uneasily looking at each other. At the end Dazai just nodded at him and turned around to leave. The redhead felt his tension lower with the increasing distance. Well, at least their talk hadn’t turned into a disaster, right?
“However, I hope the slug doesn’t expect me to stop calling him out on his shortcomings. I mean, I still have to keep you on your toes, don’t I?” Dazai suddenly blurted out as he looked back over his shoulder. Surprisingly, it felt like a weight had lifted from Chuuya’s chest at those words. Seems like banter would still be an integral part of their interactions. They would just have to take care not to use that to consciously hurt each other.
“Don’t think I won’t be doing the same!” he replied with a boyish grin, a similar one mirrored on the brunet’s face, before the detective turned again and vanished into the night.
---
The beauty of scheduled days off should be that Chuuya caught up on the sleep he lost during the week. It was not like enemies made appointments or stuck to a strict schedule or even normal working hours when they brought trouble. The redhead had lost anything resembling a regular day-night rhythm when he got promoted to executive and everyone else’s problem suddenly was also his own. So he arranged at least one day per week where nothing except an emergency would get him to work.
So really, the only reason for his phone to ring would be an incident big enough to require him specifically on top of any other executive currently on site. Like, let’s say if a meteor was crashing into headquarters. Because if anything less was happening, then whoever was currently calling him would get fucking crushed by gravity real soon.
Chuuya groaned into the pillow he had buried his face into when the first notes rang out, all while blindly reaching out to grasp the offending piece of machinery. He tried blinking to get his eyes used to the brightness of the day, but still couldn’t make out the caller through his blurry vision. Cursing quietly, he decided to just answer.
“What?” he rumbled, rubbing his eyes in hopes to get rid of the crust that had built as he slept.
“Why so angry, slug! I haven’t even done anything! Yet.” a cheery voice greeted him. Chuuya immediately wished he hadn’t answered the phone. Although they had agreed on… something, there hadn’t been any further contact between the Port Mafia and the Armed Detective Agency. In conclusion, it had been a few days ever since his meeting at Yokohama Port with the mackerel.
“Why the hell are you calling?” he grumbled, just to fall back into his cushions now that he knew nothing important was going on.
“I heard you had a day off today! And I told myself that you must be terribly bored all on your own.” was the cheeky reply.
How the hell did the other know? Only awake for a few minutes and Chuuya could already feel a headache forming. He definitely was not awake enough to deal with it.
“What time is it anyway..?” he mumbled, only realizing he had asked out loud when the brunet answered that it was already noon. So at least he got about seven hours of sleep. Small blessings, the redhead thought to himself. But then another thought rose in his mind.
“Wait a minute… It’s Tuesday. How come you are off work today?”
“Ah, I might have decided to take an unannounced break.” Dazai said. Even without seeing him, Chuuya could just imagine how the other would simply shrug his shoulders and smirk as if this was a normal occurrence. Fleetingly, the redhead decided he was glad that he didn’t have to deal with the other’s tardiness anymore. In a way he pitied the poor bastards that were stuck with the mackerel now.
“Heh, sure… and what was your grand plan? Calling me to just to annoy me?” he muttered. Deciding that sleep wouldn’t come even after this talk was finished, he sat up and stretched his arms above his head, keeping his phone awkwardly pressed between his ear and shoulder. Strangely, it took a while before he received an answer. What surprised him even more, was the lack of false cheeriness that could be heard in it.
“I thought it was worth a shot to try. To just meet and see where our moods would take us.”
That made Chuuya pause. Of course, if their work wouldn’t push them together, then meeting up on their own should have been the normal conclusion. But still, he was a bit taken aback that Dazai was the one to initiate it. For some reason, he was even slightly happy about it.
“I… I guess you’re lucky I don’t have any plans for my day off.” he hedged, still unsure if he could give in that easily without getting mocked for it.
“Then would Chuuya do me the favor and spend some time with me today?” the brunet deadpanned. But the redhead couldn’t quite shake the thought that the other was expectantly, maybe even nervously awaiting his answer.
“Yeah… sure. What did you have in mind?”
---
“You’ve got to be kidding me! Are you serious!?”
“Chibi, look out! Enemies to your right!”
With a quiet curse, Chuuya took aim and fired between the eyes of the approaching figure. His opponent fell with a long-winded groan, but a new wave of enemies was quick to follow.
“How much longer do we need to keep this up!” he bit out to his partner, careful not to jostle him too much as he bumped his shoulder into the other’s.
“Just a few more seconds! Counting 16, 15, 14…” Dazai replied, helping the redhead defend the small area they had found themselves in. The exact moment that the brunet’s counter reached zero the screen in front of them suddenly exploded in a shower of confetti, the words “You survived” written in big red letters.
With bated breath, Chuuya stared at the screen. Any moment now… Yes!!!
“Hell yeah! That high score’s ours now!” he exclaimed jubilantly, turning towards Dazai with a raised palm. The other was seemingly awaiting the high five with a big smile, the sound of their hands meeting loud and clear.
Two hours ago, Chuuya had arrived at the arcade with a knot of nerves set in his stomach. Even as he had gotten ready for the day, multiple questions and doubts festered, leaving him wondering what would await him at the arcade the other had proposed for their hangout.
It was both a smart and terrible idea to have the first meeting after their talk here. On one hand it was neutral ground and in the worst case they could just split without the need to interact further. On the other hand… arcades were also a part of their past. How often had they met up to play and compete against each other, proposing bets and taunting each other by throwing insults and vitriol.
(A few times they had even been kicked out due to their antics. That just meant thier fighting often got more physical before they made their way back to the Port Mafia or their respective homes.)
So naturally, he had feared that this would have been a prime occasion for them to fall back into their old habits. Exactly the ones he didn’t want to follow anymore. But to his surprise, Dazai had seemingly considered this problem. So instead of competing in 1 vs 1 games, they instead stuck to the multiplayer options.
Even though they were often similar with a rather generic setup - defending against zombies, aliens or other monsters - just the feeling of standing side by side with his old partner, experiencing their nearly instinctual teamwork again… it lit a fire in Chuuya. One that he was quite sure also burned in Dazai’s chest.
So he had to admit, without hesitation or any doubts: he had fun! Somewhere in the back of his mind there were still questions and doubts. What if this was all a ploy? What if he was opening up too much too soon? Not even to mention that there were still so many unspoken words and missing explanations between them.
But then again, the whole reason behind even attempting to reach out to Dazai had been exactly this: retrieving the good parts of their partnership and using them to start anew.
While he had been lost in his thoughts, the brunet had already punched in ‘SKK’ for their team into the arcade machine, leaving them on the top of the console’s high score. Seeing those three letters up there heightened his elation of reaching this goal after trying and trying for the last half hour. It left a tingling feeling in his chest. At the same time, however, this throat felt quite parched…
“Ready for a break, mackerel? I could use something to drink. Coffee?”
Dazai nodded, wiping his brow with the sleeve of his shirt as he gave a short verbal affirmation. That had been another pleasant result of the evening: although he still got a bit worked up about the different insults the brunet often addressed him with, he noticed that they grew more relaxed with using them. Maybe just the knowledge that they were not quite as spiteful as they once were, set the tone to a friendlier one.
So even as Dazai joked that Chuuya should maybe consume less caffeine or it would stunt his growth forever, leaving the redhead to chase him around the different consoles, the fighting never escalated. The words were not that much different from what they were in the past, but still Chuuya felt lighter.
So really, it left him to ponder as they parted ways later on, how much they had changed but still stayed the same after all.
---
In the aftermath of that first hangout, the next ones were quick to follow. Not all of them were during Chuuya’s days off, sometimes they met during their lunch breaks or in the evening to just sit and talk. Some days the meetings were short with barely a word exchanged, others they would trade stories about their coworkers and day to day work.
However, their conversations always stayed superficial and firmly in the present. Even if they certainly were on better terms now, neither of them wanted to open up too much. Neither wanted to dig up the past. Too much hurt was still buried there.
Furthermore, the both of them had to learn how to thread the line between friendly teasing and hurtful taunts. It was a bit like walking on eggshells, never knowing when the border between still funny and too much would be struck. Their only saving grace was that they knew each other’s tells, as they were both too stubborn to outright state if a comment went too far.
The situation also wasn’t improved by them trying to keep a low profile. They had agreed already by their third meeting that this arrangement could not have any influence on their work life. Even with the alliance in place, they were both aware that preconceptions did not magically change. So while they were not completely hiding their meetings, they still took care to avoid places of high visibility.
(If they were ever seen, then they would just deal with it. But they also wouldn’t encourage a discovery. In the end, they both knew how members of their organizations might look upon them.)
Still, their trial seemed to work well. Chuuya had honestly wished that things would continue being this peaceful. However, this slight sense of complacency just meant that the redhead was thrown off his track quite hard when the tension between their organizations rose again.
Surely he should have seen it coming: just because they had banded together in the wake of the Guild’s attack on Yokohama, it didn’t mean their truce would turn into a permanent one. Not when the mastermind behind it all hadn’t been captured, yet. The mafioso had noticed a tension in Dazai’s shoulders the last time they met up and the other was lost in his thoughts often. Likely the mackerel had had some intel or even some kind of gut feeling that things would change soon.
So in a way, Chuuya had been expecting something to happen. Even if the both of them never talked about “work topics”, he had fallen back into the habit of mentally preparing himself in accordance with the brunet’s mood (something he was likely doing by instinct, even).
However, he felt nothing close to prepared when he got the news that the boss had been attacked, putting him out of commission. That sinking feeling in his chest only worsened when Ane-san solemnly passed him the letter detailing Mori’s condition and describing how that particular ability would proceed to destroy his body. Deep inside a sense of helplessness struck him, but he had learned to hide such feelings behind his anger. So he let out his agitation by crumbling the letter in his hands and pounding the table.
It was easy to see what the ploy was. Thoughts were running through his head and even as he tried to come up with some kind of strategy, he knew they had one grave problem. Because whatever game and whatever rules were set here, if they wanted to come up with a decent strategy…
“…two days isn’t nearly enough time.” he stated, knowing well that without the boss’s input, they would need more than 48 hours to come up with solid plan. Ultimately it was Kouyou’s and his duty as Mori’s proxies to decide on their next actions.
Still, even as Ane-san walked out of the room to rely their preliminary commands throughout headquarters, Chuuya decided to try, just once, to get a hold of Dazai. Yes, they had agreed to keep their respective businesses apart, but surely this matter concerned all of them as it was currently threatening the integrity of their truce. He was aware that his actions could reflect negatively on him as an executive, but still…
With shaking fingers, he pulled up the contact and called, tugging on his choker nervously.
“For fuck’s sake, please pick up…” he muttered.
However, his call was never answered that day.
---
Although he couldn’t show any reaction in the presence of the other Port Mafia members, his chest did… something, when the illusionist explained the ADA’s plan and the current whereabouts of Dazai.
He recognized that in part he was relieved, knowing that the other hadn’t willfully ignored him. At the same time, hearing that the mackerel was currently undergoing surgery after being shot made an icy feeling spread inside of him. Logically, he knew that the brunet would be fine, but with the current conflict there was this… uneasy thought that the other was in a very vulnerable position, especially seeing how his colleagues were currently busy with other tasks.
(He had this unexplainable urge to go and see for himself that the other was still okay, still breathing. But he knew that time was constantly ticking and that with all the people watching and relying on him, he couldn’t show this weakness.)
Suppressing any other emotion but the anger fueling him, Chuuya tried to distract himself by coordinating their forces and strengthening the defenses of their base, especially after the illusionist escaped. It was with a still turbulent mind that he finally decided to take action against the ADA himself after they had simply charged through their front door. Being accosted by that so called genius detective, however, was certainly beyond his expectations.
Still, hearing this smartass take a jab at his past, as if he knew everything about it (had Dazai told him? The whole agency? How could he? How?) made him seethe with rage. Overwhelmed by this sudden bout of anger, he activated his ability, forming a crater and raising a cloud of dust around him.
“You wanna feel what it’s like to be crushed by gravity?” he gritted out. He was aware that the taunt was likely calculated, but still charged towards the other. What he did not expect was for the detective to pull out a book of all things.
Only half listening towards the other’s explanation as he was sucked into the novel, the redhead could only worry about what would happen to the Port Mafia during his absence. Strangely, unbidden, his last concern before the world turned temporarily black around him, went towards a certain brunet.
“I better see you again when I get out!” he thought and vanished in a flash of golden light.
---
Chuuya didn’t know how long he had been stuck in the freaking novel. In the beginning he had still tried to figure out the clues and deduce the murderers as he didn’t want to just beat up potentially innocent people. That had quickly changed as soon as the first person tried to kill him, especially as he remembered that this was all an artificial realm created by an ability.
At some point he had completely lost track of time, constantly dodging, kicking and punching to just try and get himself some space in a mass of attackers. So it took him a few seconds to notice that no further enemies were coming for him and that his surroundings slowly started to disintegrate.
To the luck of the poor sod waiting for him outside of the novel, his exhaustion set in as soon as he stopped moving. Otherwise he surely would have ripped that gloomy guy apart, even if the raccoon he had was quite cute. Chuuya couldn’t resist the urge to give it a few scratches and head pats as he interrogated the man about his current whereabouts.
For a moment he thought about just stretching out on the ground and taking a nap, but then his phone started buzzing, all the messages he should have received over the last few days arriving all at once. So with a sigh, he bid his goodbye on wobbly legs, feeling the strain of all that fighting in his muscles.
As he found himself slowly walking along the streets in the light of the evening sun, he checked all the missed calls and messages. It seemed that word had spread quickly about his whereabouts, as his messages mostly consisted of status reports and updates. Chuuya was quite touched about the message Ane-san had sent, telling him that he didn’t have to worry about anything work related as she would take care of his tasks for a while. But she also wrote that it would still be nice to hear from him soon. Even the boss had sent a paragraph with similar context.
Seemed like everything had turned out just fine. Mori was still alive, the alliance was apparently back in order, even the fucking rat had been captured. With a sigh of relieve, he wanted to put away his phone again, when it suddenly lit up with a new message. From a person who until then hadn’t written anything in his absence.
>Is the slug out, yet? He should hurry or he might not make it to the sunset at the harbour.
The message was followed by a picture. It didn’t take him long to recognized the exact same spot that he had proposed during their initial talk, that view over Yokohama Port a familiar one. Quite suddenly he remembered his… his worry, let’s be real, he had been worried for the mackerel. He quite suddenly remembered how worried he had been, how he had wanted to see the other when he heard about his condition.
So with a bit of newfound energy, Chuuya changed directions.
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The water reflected the reds and pinks of the setting sun when he finally reached his destination. Dazai was already sitting at the edge of the roof, leaning back on his hands and watching the play of colors. Without saying anything, Chuuya decided to sit down beside him, leaving just a small gap between them.
For a moment that could have been just a few seconds or even multiple minutes, a comfortable silence stretched out between the two of them.
“How is your wound doing?” was his question when he decided to break the quiet. The brunet hummed and turned his head towards him with the slightest of smiles on his lips.
“All good, nothing too bad. It was a clean shot, nothing important was hit.” he explained. With a sigh, Chuuya’s spine relaxed, his posture loosening.
“Good,… that’s good.” was all he could respond to that.
“Don’t tell me the slug was worried.” Dazai teased and maybe it was just the exhaustion setting in, but Chuuya could swear that his tone felt off. But right now, the redhead was way too tired to keep up with any banter, any diversion. So he just decided on honesty.
“You know… yeah… yeah, I was worried. It was quite the shock to hear you had been shot on top of that virus clusterfuck going on.”
When he threw a subtle glance at the brunet he found him already staring back at him. But not in surprise or wonder, just in acceptance. So with a sight, he elaborated.
“I called you. When we first got the letter. Kicked myself about it afterwards when you didn’t even pick up. Thought you were just ignoring me. But still, when I heard about it…” he let out another long breath and evaded the other’s gaze, turning instead towards the water. In his chest, his heartbeat picked up. “… I wanted to see you… when I heard about it.”
It took a bit before the blood rushing in his ears subsided and he could hear the sound of the waves again. But still Dazai didn’t answer. He clenched his fists, preparing to call it quits here and just leave. The day (or rather the last few) had worn him down and he wasn’t sure if he could take another hit on top. However, just before he could move another muscle, a whisper reached him.
“I’ve been moody the last few days. Or at least that is what the others have told me. Knowing Chuuya’s proficiency, I knew he would get out even without solving all the puzzles. I even estimated when…” here Chuuya just huffed out a quiet “Oh really?” but didn’t dare to interrupt the other further.
“But still, the wait was unpleasant. Nerve wrecking even! So I wondered why for quite a bit. But it’s really quite simple.”
Dazai slid closer, eliminating the gap in between their bodies and nudging Chuuya’s shoulder with his own.
“I missed Chuuya. I got used to our meetings, our talks, hell even to sometimes just seeing your contact on my phone. So really, I missed Chuuya and it got me in a bad mood.” the brunet declared. Locking eyes with him, the redhead tried to see if there was any deception in his eyes, but instead he noticed that all of Dazai’s masks were down at the moment. He only found honesty in those brown orbs. Chuuya could feel a warmth rising in his cheeks, but he refused to look away.
“I was a bit too occupied to miss anything the last few days, really, but… I certainly would be disappointed if our meetings were to suddenly stop.” he replied, trying to keep it simple and not show too much of his heart. But, wasn’t that what Dazai had just done? Offered his honest feelings? Wouldn’t it be alright to do the same?
“So I guess what I want to say… I like it. I like meeting and seeing you. I guess I could even say, I like being with you.” Chuuya confessed, but quickly turned away when the other’s focus on him got too much. Embarrassed, he rubbed his cheek with the back of his hand, trying to distract from the intense blush that was surely showing on his skin. An answering warmth had also nestled into his ribcage.
Before he could find his composure again, a weight suddenly rested against his side. Brown locks were spilling along his collarbones as a head nestled into the hollow of his shoulder.
“I like it, too. Spending time with Chuuya… Just Chuuya in general.” was whispered like a revelation, bringing an honest smile to the redhead’s lips as he laid his head on top of the others. The silence between them grew comfortable, both of them basking in this small connection they had formed.
“I’m glad, I decided to reach out to you.” Chuuya muttered absentmindedly, not even noticing that he had spoken out loud. With a quick squeeze to his wrist, Dazai sat up to look him in the eyes when he answered with a short but sincere “me, too.”
“Looks like it brought us luck, going with the flow and seeing where it takes us.” the brunet observed with a small smile that also lit up his eyes.
With a short affirmation, Chuuya took off his hat and let himself fall to the side so he could rest his head on the other’s shoulder this time. Contently, he relaxed into the warmth he found. Slowly, as if careful to not startle him, an arm settled around him, pulling him just that bit closer. With a sigh he settled in, wondering if it would be alright if he rested his eyes for just a minute… or… two…
He must have dozed off there. As if from far away he was aware of Dazai calling his name, but he felt too peaceful and cozy to react to it. Mutedly, he heard the brunet sigh fondly, before a hand brushed a few strands of hair from his forehead and something soft and warm pressed to it. The redhead had the vague thought that it might have been Dazai’s lips that pressed to his skin. But shortly after the sensation left him.
“What to do with you..?” came the whispered question as his partner shifted a bit to get in a more comfortable position. But Chuuya didn’t even realize that anymore, already succumbed to sleep.
He would only wake hours later, back in his bed with a teasing message on his phone as the only explanation. Still he would remember every word they had exchanged as the evening turned into night. And he would remember this interaction fondly for days and months to come, even though he never told Dazai that he heard and felt everything.