Chapter Text
Dazai is incapable of love. For as long as he’s known, he’s been alone, a tool, a weapon, something of use. Not a person, never a person. Never something to be loved. Did he even have a soul? He was fairly sure that he didn’t. At least, that's what those around him said, or, maybe they didn’t say it, but he was sure that they thought it. He could see it in the looks given, the curt answers to questions and the way people scurried away whenever he entered rooms, the bare minimum of courtesy given.
“The Demon Prodigy”, was what they called him. A demon, something not human. It was true. He was a demon, certainly not human. It was for that reason that Chuuya Nakahara, Dazai’s forced partner, consistently confounded him. Dazai was smart, but he couldn’t figure out Chuuya. Chuuya seemed so bright, and vibrant, full of life, shining where Dazai lurked in shadow. And yet, out of all people, Chuuya believed himself to not be human, because of Arahabaki. How could Chuuya see himself like that when Dazai was right there. If Chuuya, of all people, was not human, then what was Dazai? Certainly worse than a demon, much worse.
Dazai would never tell Chuuya all that, of course, their relationship consisted of endless bickering and fighting, not philosophical thoughts about morality and humanity. They were partners because they were made to be partners, forced, it was clear that Chuuya would leave the first chance that he got, and Dazai wouldn’t blame him, he would probably do it himself. So there was no reason to tell his thoughts to Chuuya, his unasked for thoughts that he found his mind drifting back to in moments of silence during missions, spent peering out of the corner of his eye at the boy next to him. To tell him how alive he looked as he celebrated victory after a mission, when all Dazai could do was look at him and want.
Chuuya mystified him. He was a Port Mafia member one second, and the next he was a normal teenager goofing off at an arcade, and Dazai didn’t know what that was like, wanted to know what that was like. But that wasn’t what Dazai was. He wasn’t a normal teenager who could just forget about things and go play games and get so frustrated over them that he started yelling in public.
In truth, Dazai liked being around Chuuya. Seeing him be able to just exist, with no worries, was fascinating. Dazai liked it. He might even be a little bit sad if the boy left him, but that was just Dazai being greedy, like he always was. He wanted, and he shouldn’t want, shouldn’t watch the boy before him and long for something that he knew he couldn’t have.
Being with Chuuya felt like drowning.
Being with Chuuya felt like the first breath of air after being underwater.
Being with Chuuya felt like-
“Oi! Mackerel!”
Dazai’s head snapped up, away from where his gaze had been stationary for who knows how long.
“Slug!” He masked on a smile, and put on a sing-song voice as he looked up at Chuuya, who was currently stomping towards him, hands in the pockets of that stupid jacket he always wore and an annoyed expression painted on his face. “Why are you here this time? Worried I would be committing suicide again? What a loyal dog!”
Chuuya scowled at him, close enough now to give Dazai a kick in his side.
“I’m not your dog!” He brought his hands out from his pockets, hands balled into fists at his side as he yelled at Dazai. Dazai only laughed and teased him more, egging Chuuya on.
Finally, after minutes of squabbling, Chuuya seemed to remember that he was actually there for a reason, one that was not ‘beat Dazai senseless.’ Smoothing his hair down, and giving a final glare to Dazai, who shot another cheeky grin at him, he stepped away, disengaging himself.
“Mori gave us another mission for tonight. Looks pretty simple, just making sure a smuggling operation goes smoothly, but we’ve gotta get there soon.”
Dazai huffed, “Chuuya couldn’t have given me any more warning? Isn’t it a bit late notice.” He whined at Chuuya, who scoffed and shoved him with his shoe.
“Why do you care anyways, what do you have to do? Plan new ways to kill yourself,” He grimaced, “Maybe you would have gotten more of a heads up if you decided to actually come into work so I don’t have to spend an hour looking for you!”
Dazai pouted, but got up anyway, begrudgingly following Chuuya as he led the way to the car, berating Dazai the whole time.
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Positioned comfortably at their stake-out spot, Dazai and Chuuya sat in silence, watching over the port and waiting for the ship that would be carrying their shipment to arrive. The night bathed Yokohama in quiet, the usually bustling sounds of the port muted as the stars soothed the city to sleep. The only people awake at this hours were the underworld of the city, those who had no business to be out roaming during the day.
Dazai was tucked up into an uncomfortable position, knees tucked up under him as he scanned the port below, refusing to let his mind wander with Chuuya right next to him. The other boy looked almost peaceful, features that would usually look sharp while on a mission dulled by the pale moonlight that washed over him, his fiery hair was muted, and the usual fire in his eyes seemed to have been put to rest by the calm of the night, though it was clear that he was still focused.
Lulled into a sense of calm by the night and gentle lapping of the waves on the docks, Dazai let himself be drifted into an almost-tranquil like state, his mind’s focus drifting as he surveyed the quiet scenery below him. Unfortunately, his brief respite was broken by Chuuya’s restlessness. It seemed that Chuuya was incapable of sitting still for long periods of time, fidgeting next to him until he finally decided to speak.
“Hey, Dazai?” His voice was quiet, and if Dazai hadn’t been listening because of all the fidgeting that Chuuya was currently doing, he might have missed it.
Dazai only hummed in response to show Chuuya that he was listening, still keeping his eyes ahead of him, despite noticing a shift next to him that signaled Chuuya had turned to look at him.
“You seem quiet today.” Chuuya looked at him, as if trying to analyze him, but Dazai knew that Chuuya preferred to be direct, instead of trying to figure things out based on body language or clues.
“Shouldn’t Chuuya be excited about that?” He turned his head, giving in and turning to look at Chuuya, trying to decipher what he was getting on about. Chuuya only looked more puzzled. His brows furrowed.
“It's just, I don’t know,” He huffed, “usually-” Chuuya was cut off by the sound of gunfire from the docs below. “Shit!”
In a second both of them were up, their conversation forgotten in favor of the commotion going on below.
“What the fuck happened?” Chuuya was cursing under his breath, making his way down below, Dazai following behind him, on alert while Chuuya rushed ahead. “We barely took our eyes off of them!”
Rolling his eyes, Dazai took the lead, “What did you expect, a quiet night with nothing happening? Chuuya is silly.” Said boy leveled a glare at Dazai’s back, cursing again and following him until Dazai reached a warehouse on the edge of the docs right next to the ocean, where the gentle waves of before had turned into a choppy current.
Dazai crouched by the door to the warehouse, remaining out of sight but with enough vantage to peer around and look in, and after assessing the situation quickly flashed a signal at Chuuya, and without waiting to check if he had seen - they were in sync, of course he had. Dazai stepped back, allowing Chuuya to go ahead and do what he did best, brute force. Dazai followed after him, more careful, focusing on dissecting the situation rather than actually fighting.
It didn’t take long to find out that the information they had been given was wrong, clearly the operation that they had been sent to oversee was much more important that they had been told - and that meant that it was more dangerous than they had been expecting to handle, luckily, being in this line of work, they were always fully geared for even the smallest of missions.
Regardless of the lack of information, the mission shouldn’t be that difficult. This was Soukoku, after all, the very duo that had taken out a whole organization single-handedly overnight. Unfortunately, that didn’t mean that they were unable to get injured, as Dazai had found out that night as Chuuya had laid on the ground bleeding out and panting. Dazai had only been able to stare at him, eyes fixed on the blood as it left Chuuya, not doing anything, until the cleanup had arrived and he had blearily dragged himself away, feeling numb. It had felt like a bullet, they had been on top of the world, had felt unbeatable, but yet it still wasn’t enough. Dazai hadn’t been enough. All he could do was stare as the life left Chuuya, watch as the most lively boy he had known lay unconscious on the ground.
Dazai wouldn’t let it happen again-
Why did he care?
He had cursed himself after for caring. For what felt like the nth time in such a short period of time wanting what he knew he couldn’t have. Maybe it would be better if Chuuya died - no, no - Dazai was the one who should die. It wasn’t Chuuya’s fault that Dazai was like this, he shouldn’t have to deal with that. Dazai should be punished.
Still, it seemed that even after the close incidents they had had with corruption and Chuuya, they hadn’t learned their lesson. Or at least, Chuuya hadn’t. Dazai had. Chuuya was still just as cocky and confident as ever, bouncing back from his injuries as if nothing had ever happened.
Right now, in the dimly lit warehouse next to the sea, it looked almost like Chuuya was glowing, and Dazai couldn’t help but pause, mesmerized by the wrath that was Chuuya, and this wasn’t even the sheer destruction and beauty that was corruption. And maybe Dazai was just standing there, not doing his job, admiring his partner, but he couldn’t help it when Chuuya was right there and Chuuya was glowing, powerful, and Chuuya was-
About to get hit by a stray bullet?
Dazai moved before he could even really process what he was actually doing. He registered a brief call of Chuuya’s name - from him - but Chuuya didn’t react. This was Dazai’s fault - if Dazai had been watching and doing his job like he was meant to, Chuuya wouldn’t be in danger. If Dazai hadn’t let himself want, Chuuya wouldn’t be about to get hit by a bullet. If Dazai hadn’t-
Dazai’s vision flashed red, unaware of his surroundings, vision going increasingly blurry and ears ringing, he stumbled, bringing his hand to his abdomen and frowning when it came back red. He teetered, heard the surprised and frantic shout of his name, and then fell with a splash into the cold sea below. Waves enveloping him with their chilled embrace, soothing him under the glassy silver light of the moon. He registered movement above him, but didn’t process it, couldn’t.
He was tired. He hadn’t been so tired just a second ago, speaking of, what had he been doing a second ago? He could make out the blurry image of Chuuya, but that was it. It hurt to try and think about, and damn, he was tired. He closed his eyes, just a quick nap, he thought, he hadn’t slept in days after all, it couldn’t hurt, and he was so, so tired.
Chuuya could only watch frozen in horror as the water below him stained increasingly red, the shape of Dazai below the waves getting increasingly farther away.