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Chuuya was walking out to his garage when he saw Dazai, his partner since 15, under his car planting what looks to be bombs. He was originally going to be going to a mafia meeting. Dazai hasn’t noticed him yet, so he walks over to his car and crouches down, looking into his partner's eyes.
“What are you doing here, Dazai?”
He blinks in surprise, and that makes Chuuya smirk. He’s surprised he was able to get Dazai caught off guard. “Uh–” Before he can get any words out, Chuuya is already pulling him out from under his car. “There. Now speak.”
“I was hoping you wouldn’t end up finding me.” He says, honestly. Chuuya lifts up his eyebrow in question, but doesn’t say anything in response. Dazai rolls his eyes and continues. “I’m leaving the mafia.”
Ah, that explains it. Also explains why he left bombs under Chuuya’s car. “So, you didn’t want me following you? Really?” He laughs at that, and Chuuya just rolls his eyes. “Why the fuck are you leaving anyway?” He asks. Dazai has never just tried to up and leave randomly like this.
“He killed Odasaku.” Dazai responds. Chuuya’s eyes widened. He was never very close with Oda, but the few times he did he thought he was a fairly nice guy. Never did Chuuya think that Mori would go so far just to get Dazai to obey. “Oda’s last wish was for me to become a good man. Who would I be if I didn’t follow his wishes?” He asks, somber. “He was my only ever friend, after all.”
Chuuya would be lying if he said that didn’t hurt. He always knew Dazai cherished his time with Oda. He felt normal around him. A feeling most don’t get in the mafia, one Chuuya was stripped away from. It’s addicting, really, but there’s no way Dazai valued his friendship with Oda more than Chuuya, right?
“Well, if you’re leaving it seems like I’m leaving too.” Chuuya shrugs, walking back towards the door of the garage to go pack a bag. “Wait, Chuuya!” Dazai yells after him, making Chuuya stop in his tracks.
“There’s no way you could come with me. We can’t easily leave with two people. You realize how hard it would be to pull that off, right?” Chuuya smirks, leaning closer to where Dazai is standing. “Osamu, you realize that we’re Double Black, right?” Chuuya replies mockingly. “And, either way,” Chuuya slowly stalks over to Dazai, pinning him to the nearest wall. “If you dragged me into the mafia, it’s only fair you’ll be the one to drag me right back out, wouldn’t it?”
He only lets go when he hears Dazai let out a small sigh, knowing that means he finally agreed. “Great, I’ll pack. Did you already grab bandages?” He notices Dazai wince when he realizes he forgot them at his place. “Seems like I’ll pack my stash, then.” Chuuya says.
Two Months Later
It’s been an official two months since Chuuya and Dazai have left the mafia, and they’ve been on the hunt like wildfire. Both of them have had to move safe houses twice now due to the mafia raiding them, and how they were able to find them in the first place isn’t the first thing on Chuuya’s mind right now.
Today is the 2nd year anniversary of the flags deaths. Last year, he spent the day in his home back near the Port Mafia base drinking a bottle of his favorite wine and then visited their graves, but this year that of course isn’t an option.
Dazai has been on his back for going outside in public spaces due to his hair. Chuuya can only remember a few times he’s been out since they’ve left, but he honestly thinks he’s the happiest he’s been in a while. Other than that, of course Dazai is as annoying as ever. That’s normal though.
So, here he is with a hoodie on that makes him look stupid, as he sits at his friend's graves. He was able to, thankfully, conceive himself to where nobody around noticed him even with the several wanted posters around the city. He fills his wine class back up every now and then with some cranberry juice, and he likes to pretend it’s actual wine because he was stupid enough to leave his entire collection back at the house.
He sits at the graves for what feels like hours. He thinks of everything and nothing, until he can’t help but think of Dazai. Of their history, of them together. He dozes off multiple times, just thinking of his life in the mafia. Sometimes, it’s weird to think how he simply left his whole life behind for Dazai.
Chuuya and Dazai are seated in the Port Mafia headquarters library. Recently all they’ve been doing is work on Chuuya’s reading and writing skills, because when he agreed to be in the mafia he had no idea how to read or write.
Surprisingly, Dazai never makes fun of Chuuya when they have these lessons, ever. Everytime they sit down at this very table, the only words that come out of his mouth are helpful ones. No snarky remarks or rolling of the eyes. Just pure patience.
“Hey, Chuuya.” Dazai asks, snapping Chuuya out of his focused state. They’ve been working on writing longer sentences lately. “Would you ever leave the mafia?” Chuuya blinks in surprise. He wasn’t expecting a question of that nature. “It depends on the circumstance, I guess. Why?” He tries to pry something out of Dazai to no avail. After a few more short seconds, Chuuya goes back to his work, leaving the conversation with a “If you do end up leaving, just promise to end up taking me with. We’re partners after all.”
Dazai simply smiles and points at his paperwork, telling him to finish it. Chuuya knows that likely means he wouldn’t ever tell Chuuya he was leaving beforehand, but for a second Chuuya can’t help but think he would. Their entire relationship is based off of trust after all.
Chuuya is snapped out of his trance when he feels a tap on his shoulder. He looks up to see it’s a smiling Dazai. “C’mon Chuuya, visiting time is over. We have work to do.” Chuuya picks himself off of the ground, taking one quick glance back at his friends. He leaves the grave site with a smile, and doesn’t realize him and Dazai were holding hands until they’re long down the road.