Chapter Text
A man sometimes devotes his life to a desire which he is not sure will ever be fulfilled. Those who laugh at this folly are, after all, no more than mere spectators of life.
When Dazai first met Chuuya, he found himself looking into the most beautiful shade of blue he’d ever seen.
It didn’t take much for Dazai to deduce that it was quite out of character for him to think that, so he merely brushed it off and played the most obnoxious character he knew of. Secretly, he wondered if riled up enough, will Chuuya’s face glow just as bright as his hair?
Following his trail of thoughts, young Dazai Osamu poked and prodded young Chuuya’s defences until he reached what seemed to be his limit. He couldn’t help but laugh his ass off whenever young Chuuya would snarl at him for whatever comments he’d make, because watching that normally impassive or irritated face twist into a bright shade of red was unbelievably fascinating to young Dazai’s mind.
To him, to a bastard that breathed in the staleness of death, Chuuya radiated life. It was blinding. It was almost a breath of fresh air.
As Chuuya joined him as his partner, and as they went on more missions together as Double Black, Dazai progressively found himself indulging in the fleeting moments of joy in life more and more. As Chuuya used that wretched Corrupted ability of his, and as Chuuya relied on him to bring his humanity back, Dazai progressively found himself caring for a certain Chibi redhead more and more.
As Chuuya swore his loyalty to him when he ascended as the boss of Port Mafia, and as Chuuya finally became his, and only his dog, Dazai found himself unable to turn away from the brilliance of those bright Blue eyes, and that fiery Red hair that burned just as intensely as his temperament did.
Without him noticing, Dazai slowly found himself associating the colours red and blue with the enigma that was Nakahara Chuuya. Or perhaps he noticed, but neglected to acknowledge it, because if Dazai acknowledged it, he would’ve stopped himself from jumping into this rabbit hole… he would’ve never ended where he was now.
Now, overlooking the two children he entrusted the future to, he smiled, mind wondering anywhere but Red and Blue. “The time has come. The fifth stage, the final stage of the plan.”
He continued to speak, left his mouth running with barely a filter through his brain because Dazai knew. He knew if he were quieted, if he lost focus for even a moment, he would hesitate.
Dazai Osamu was a man that could never afford a moment of hesitation.
If he hesitated, he would never achieve his stupid suicidal dream.
If he hesitated, four and a half years of planning would crumble.
If he hesitated, he might not live to write novels anymore.
If he hesitated…
Dazai stopped himself from continuing that train of thoughts. Instead, his mind all but focused on the very motivation that started everything: Protect this world, for this is the only world in which he lives and writes novels.
A long awaited moment– a moment where even the original Dazai Osamu had yet to achieve.
He took a step back.
Dazai would then privately admit to himself that he had one regret.
Gravity took him. Hands flailed, scarf trailed in the air.
Dazai humourlessly remarked to himself that the red of his scarf was a tad too dark, too grim; the blue of the sky didn’t twinkle like jewels, too stale. Regardless… his lips slipped into a smile that seemed almost amused.
Hands flailed as if reaching to take hold of something only he could see.
Red scarf trailed against the Blue sky.
At the young age of 14, Dazai Osamu was dubbed the Demon Prodigy of Port Mafia; blood running Mafia Black; the devil’s incarnation itself.
People took one glance at him and decided it was perhaps in their best interest not to interact with a monster wearing human skin. Those bandages around his face, neck, forearms… Rather than feeling concern over what could have possibly happened to warrant such a worrisome wardrobe on such a young fella, they instead felt fearful, for they must know the implications of bringing such a child into the Port Mafia.
It did not take much for members of Port Mafia to acknowledge Dazai Osamu’s abilities. Nothing more was needed to be said when said individual succeeded in his first ever mission with flying colours.
Mori’s orders were to infiltrate an organisation that opposed the Port Mafia, and gather information so they could plan their next course of action.
Dazai responded with a ‘fuck you’ and murdered everyone on sight in cold-blood.
He did not go against Mori’s orders. At least not entirely. In fact, Dazai had properly infiltrated the organisation, and gained more information than what was requested. It was just that, such a mission was too tamed. He made an agreement with Mori; in exchange for his intelligence, Mori was to provide him with the means to see the nature of humankind. After all, wasn’t the human condition such a fascinating thing!?
Regretfully, Mori did not uphold his end of the bargain for his first mission, and he took it upon himself to improvise.
Given, this was one single safe house among many others this particular organisation owned, and there were probably less than fifteen people manning the damned warehouse. So frankly speaking, it was not the act of killing and violence that really gained him the reputation of Demon Prodigy. Rather, it was the undeniable glee he felt, being in control of a scum’s life.
Needless to say, Dazai was quickly reputed amongst the mafia ranks as the unhinged bandage kid that fitted perfectly into the mafia; a being that lived and breathed death. Though it was a regret to inform you that Dazai was not exempt from consequences; his killing spree only created more problems for Mori to deal with now that they had shown hostility towards each other.
The grunts sent to support Dazai as a fail-safe all remarked on the absurdity of the situation. Mori couldn’t help but be amused when his subordinates begged him to never send them on a mission with the bandaged freak anymore - to think a 14 year old could instil such fear. Truly, the human condition was fascinating.
A lone figure standing amongst an ocean of corpses, blood practically coated its entire being. A devilish grin on its face that mocked the misery of the suffering. A maniac-like cackle that would forever haunt their dreams. An eye gleamed with nothingness as it stared down at them.
Nothingness; no remorse, no joy, no spite. Chilling to the core as they listened to the crazed laughter while looking into the depths of hell itself.
Truly a devil incarnate.
Dazai was a demon. It killed regardless of allies and enemies.
Yet, Dazai did not understand. Why were people overreacting to this degree? He merely helped Mori take out an enemy organisation! He even took them down single handedly to save resources. If anything, he should be properly thanked and compensated for his contribution!
Evidently, young Dazai did not have enough adequate human interactions to understand the nuances of social cues… not that there was much going for murder in terms of social skills, but I digress.
From that day onwards, Dazai was to be situated under Mori Ougai’s direct apprenticeship, and the organisation would accept that it was just in Dazai Osamu’s nature to be cruel.
An absolute clown and mockery of a human; a being that can no longer be justified as a human.
~~~
Hirotsu wondered who he had wronged in his past life to warrant chaperoning the Demon Prodigy through the entire wasteland that was Suribachi City.
A year ago, right after the previous boss’ death, Mori Ougai rose as the new boss, and brought along an individual named Dazai Osamu with him.
The two silenced anyone who supported the previous boss, and Dazai stayed in Mori’s shadow. It wasn’t that Dazai possessed combat ability far surpassing that of Mori, or even the lower ranked mafioso. No, what made Dazai so fearsome was his lack of humanity; the ability to shoot without remorse, and his contempt over life and death.
Even now, Hirotsu watched Dazai plaster on a welcoming smile as he extracted information out of eye witnesses; it was pure manipulation in its most magnificent form.
As much as it was cruel, Hirotsu was thankful that Mori personally disciplined Dazai on human nature. The Dazai in front of these people almost looked artificial to trained eyes, but those who didn’t know him would be none the wiser.
Hirotsu sighed as he continued watching the young mafioso explain the situation at Suribachi, wearing a smile as he continued on the phone with Mori, as if he was slightly amused that the very thing Mori feared was coming back to haunt him. “The previous boss was here. He’s risen from the pits of hell.”
Well, his job was done, so he might as well head back now—
Huh?
Dazai found himself staring at the sky.
He never did understand why people enjoyed cloud gazing, nor any of the panoramic views they gushed over so much. From what Dazai could see, the sky was merely a wide expanse of space inhabited with the most ordinary blue he’d ever seen. Nothing special at all.
His thoughts were promptly interrupted as a little boy stepped over him, blocking his view of the sky.
Dazai stared blankly at the kid on top of him as his body finally registered the pain. He did not enjoy pain, but watching the face in front of him twisting into all sorts of emotions felt refreshing. It almost made the pain worth it. One moment, the brat laughed at his powerlessness, in another he mercilessly interrogated him, and finally, back to that cocky attitude.
Dazai could see it already - a sadistic and twisted part in him laughed in manic - he could see all the ways to rile him up and manipulate him.
As expected, the kid pulled him up close by the collar; frankly, it was quite a cliche attempt at threatening him, it was laughable. Yet instead of the psychopathic glee he was used to, Dazai felt an odd sense of intrigue at the expressive individual.
It was then that Dazai decided this individual - Nakahara Chuuya - was unbefitting for the underworld, for he was undoubtedly a complete human.
A pitiful soul that belonged to nowhere; an underworld that guided upon the tainted sorrow.
“O, Woe is me! To start the day greeted by a slug! I can only hope the Chibi-germs are not contagious!”
As expected, Chuuya lashed out in return. “Who the fuck are you calling a slug!?”
“Ohoho? Is the Chibi admitting to being a Chibi!? I guess this day is still salvageable after all!”
“Excuse you! You bandage-wearing waste-of-space! My day was going perfect until I saw your admittedly very punchable face! Too bad I don’t wanna go near you since you stink of sewer fish!” Chuuya responded to Dazai’s dramaticism with his own, pinching his nose as he scrunched his face.
“Gasp! The audacity to see this immaculate face as anything other than flawless!”
Ahh yes, another normal day at Port Mafia, another normal occurrence where you could probably hear the youngest executive in Port Mafia history banter with the strongest martial artist from miles away. Unfortunately for them, a certain mafia boss was ready to ruin their fun.
What better way to start the day than flirt banter with your ‘partner’, only to be interrupted by their big bad boss, amirite?
With a pout, Dazai strolled along the long corridors with Chuuya right beside him. “What do you think we’ll be assigned this time?”
“Does it matter? It’ll be all over once I use Corruption anyway.” Chuuya shrugged, as if he was talking about the weather rather than an ability that could very well kill him if he didn’t have Dazai with him.
Dazai responded as such, “Don’t forget that Chuuya can’t use Corruption if I don’t agree to it! Do you know that small dogs are more prone to violence? It’s almost like they’re always angry and unsatisfied, like our Chibi here!”
“Who the fuck are you calling small!?”
Dazai ignored him, “Goodness! Is that barking I hear? Where might the tiny puppy be!? Maybe it’s just too small to be seen!”
They continued bantering all the way to Mori’s office, only starting to quiet down somewhat as they reached the highest floor of the headquarters.
Dazai took on a grimmer look as they approached the doors.
It didn’t seem out of the ordinary. In fact, it was quite a simple mission. “Eliminate the traitors”; too simple for people like Dazai and Chuuya. Chuuya might not even need to use Corruption! What a nice change of pace.
Mori didn’t miss the sceptical look Dazai threw him, yet all he responded with was a smile and a dismissive wave. All the warning bells in Dazai’s head were alerted that something more would happen, and it frustrated him all the more to be in the unknown. Yet there was no time to consider all aspects of the mission as Chuuya had already stormed out of the office, and Mori had the audacity to give him a mission with less than twelve hours of prep time.
Well, it wasn’t like Dazai hadn’t gotten worse before. As all other missions that involved eliminating traitors of the Port Mafia, they were usually quite time sensitive. After all, as ex-members of Port Mafia, they must’ve known of the severe consequences of betrayal. No one could escape from the Port Mafia unscathed.
Even so, Dazai spent a little more time staring at Mori, hoping to gain some more information through those impassive eyes. It would be a regret (not) to inform you that he had failed to do so. Mori didn’t become the boss of the Port Mafia for no reason, after all.
Without another word, Dazai strolled out of the room to catch up with a Chuuya that was already nearly out of sight.
It didn’t matter if Mori was going to withhold information from him, Dazai was going to make sure this mission was a success either way.
Chuuya, that unsuspecting lamb he was, didn’t even question the simplicity of the mission and left everything to Dazai as always.
“Chibi, don’t you think there might be something more to this mission than the boss lets on?”
As the idiot he was, Chuuya focused on the one thing that was the least important in this discussion.
“Don’t call me Chibi! You bastard Dazai! You good-for-nothing waste-of-bandages Mackerel!” He grumbled back, hands kept inside his pockets, else he lost control and strangled Dazai again. With a mission set with so little time to prepare, the last thing Chuuya needed was Dazai playing dead after Chuuya’s feeble attempt at murdering him.
“Excuse me?! Chuuya’s the useless sidekick in our partnership! All you got is that ability of yours; your brain is so slow, just like a slug!” Dazai was evidently not immune to Chuuya’s provocation despite being deemed worthy of the title ‘Demon Prodigy’. A poker face was expected, but perhaps not so much when someone as stupid as Chuuya was involved. After all, Dazai was a considerate fella who cared so much for the Chibi! How would poor Chuuya feel if he could see the difference between their intelligence?!
“And the whole reason you’re still alive right now is because I always save your sorry ass!”
“And the whole reason you’re still alive right now is because of my ability!”
Chuuya was tempted to punch a hole into that bastard’s face. Right here. Right now. To hell with their mission.
But no! Chuuya was a sensible individual, and he decidedly ignored Dazai the entire way back to his (Ane-san’s) office even as the bastard whined for attention.
Yet, right before they reached the point where they had to separately go to their respective locations, Chuuya stopped in his tracks.
Curious, Dazai stopped right behind the Chibi.
“You’re right. I don’t have much to offer to the Port Mafia other than my ability, and even then, I can’t make use of its full potential unless you’re there with me.” Chuuya said carefully, aware of the sensitive relationship between them. He turned slightly; talking with your back against your conversation partner was bad etiquette after all!
With a slight quirk to his lips, “So, as the brains in our partnership, I’m sure you’ll be there to figure out what might be wrong with this mission, right? Mr Youngest Executive in the History of Port Mafia?”
Trust. A word so delicate and barely spoken about in their partnership.
Chuuya trusted Dazai when they had to work together as Double Black.
Chuuya trusted Dazai’s plans even without prior communication, especially when they encountered unforeseen changes.
Chuuya trusted Dazai with his entire being when he threw himself into the battlefield as he activated Corruption. Trusted him to bring his humanity back.
Dazai sucked in a breath, not quite expecting this sort of confession from Chuuya today, if not ever. Suddenly, it felt like the room was too bright for someone as tainted as Dazai - too much colour for such a sullen and monotonous soul.
It seemed like Dazai Osamu would always fail to become the demon he was meant to be whenever an individual named Nakahara Chuuya was with him.
Chuuya snickered, seeing that dumbfounded expression on Dazai’s face; he must’ve realised he had finally one-upped him.
Satisfied with this result, Chuuya continued on his way back to Ane-san’s office.
With the sudden influx of colours in his vision, Dazai didn’t miss the dust of Red on those ears. He noted to himself that it pleasantly complemented Chuuya’s hair.
~~~
When Dazai and Chuuya met up by the vehicle that would take them to the mission point, there was no additional manpower around them.
Fundamentally, Dazai understood it was a necessity to keep a low profile so their traitor would not be alerted, yet to be told by Mori specifically to omit any plans that involved the inclusion of grunts was a tad bit concerning.
As much as Dazai wanted to figure out what was wrong before the mission, it was quite impossible considering the information was withheld from him by the boss himself. Not that Dazai hadn’t tried. Of the eight hours of prep time they got, six of them were used to mull over what the old man was thinking.
Silencing a former mafioso was not a hard task, there was barely anything they truly had to plan for. And while it was suspicious how Mori insisted only Double Black was needed, that man never risks anything that could jeopardise Port Mafia, so Dazai wasn’t worried about Mori’s true motive. When he realised this amidst his mulling, Dazai had become rather intrigued instead.
Perhaps Mori was planning a surprise gift by the end! Oh, who am I kidding, that’s too OOC!
“Are you done spacing out yet?” Chuuya sighed exasperatedly. The mission hadn’t even started yet, and he was already exhausted beyond relief, “Now who’s the real airhead, huh?”
“Why, of course! That maintains to be our resident slug!”
Within seconds, they were back at each other’s throats with Dazai laughing like the maniac we all know he was, and Chuuya screaming into his ear. They perfectly emulated an air of ‘pedestrians stand back’, because you may very well anticipate the possibility of having a decapitated head if you ever interrupt the mating ritual of two idiots.
After an undisclosable amount of time, they finally remembered why they were waiting by a car to begin with. Undisclosable, because it would plainly be embarrassing if it ever got out how long they managed to stay within each other’s personal spaces.
“I’m driving, and that is the end of this argument. I will not relive last week’s horror again.” Chuuya said grimly as he rounded the car to take the driver’s seat, shooting daggers at Dazai with his eyes as he did so.
Dazai laughed as if he hadn’t sped, ran over a pedestrian (thankfully did not die, but not that it mattered with Dazai’s long list of crimes), and nearly crashed the both of them into a police station while attempting to outrun a high speed chase.
Well, at least life wouldn’t be boring when Dazai’s there. Limited time offer: a package deal of Dazai + excitement, all for the generous price of $free.99!
Dazai didn’t even bother refuting him as he manoeuvred himself into the passenger seat. “Aw, a pity, really. Though I certainly don’t mind being the slug’s passenger princess. Wink wink.”
“Get your bandaged ass away from me, you piece of shit!”
An outsider seeing a vehicle moving so violently might be suspicious and ultimately disgusted by the conclusion they would undoubtedly come to. To a member of the Port Mafia, you would either consider this as a normal occurrence, or be killed by one violent redhead for thinking… otherwise.
After another undisclosable amount of time, the pair finally made a move to actually drive off to their mission point. Thankfully, Dazai had the insight to actually allocate some time for their usual banter, and they were in fact, not late. A pity.
There was still a little bit of time before the traitor showed themselves, so Dazai and Chuuya opted to sit back and relax for a bit. Not exactly a location suitable for banter either, so it was truly quite boring.
The sun had only started setting, and Dazai estimated the ex-mafioso wouldn’t appear for at least a few more hours for no reason other than it’d simply be idiotic to make a run in broad daylight. But really, when one considers the darkness mafias thrived in, who was the true idiotic one here?
And so, with nothing better to do, Dazai would normally take out his phone for some mandatory Snake game. Unfortunately, today he felt like annoying Chuuya, so that was exactly what he did: annoy Chuuya. Not in the way he was best at; Dazai wouldn’t risk jeopardising the mission for momentary satisfaction. As improbable as it might seem, it wasn’t completely impossible for the traitor to turn up early in broad daylight. So instead, Dazai thought it would be a great idea to annoy Chuuya by just staring at him. Because surely, Chuuya wouldn’t be able to stand his obnoxious gaze for a few hours, right?
As time passed, Dazai grew bored of the action of staring for the sake of staring, especially when Chuuya didn’t seem like he was even aware of Dazai’s failed attempt at annoying him. As a change of pace, Dazai took it upon himself to observe this time.
It certainly helped that the Chibi lacked situational awareness - it lessened the embarrassment that was certain to come.
As someone working for Port Mafia, it was required to have skills sharp enough to detect danger from miles away. It was essential to keep them alive, really, just basic survival instincts. Not to mention, Chuuya was a pawn stationed right at the front and centre of the battlefield, so Dazai going undetected by Chuuya was basically a death wish regardless of whether or not Dazai carried any kill intent.
So unguarded, so vulnerable. It was unbefitting of Chuuya’s calibre, yet Dazai couldn’t help his brain from providing him with the most logical explanation.
“I’m sure you’ll be there to figure out what might be wrong with this mission.”
Trust. A straightforward and simple explanation. An explanation Dazai didn’t know what to do with.
Dazai was not someone who trusted easily. It would be hard to, especially when he had undoubtedly made quite a number of enemies. It was unavoidable, especially so since he was the ‘Demon Prodigy’, and it certainly did not help that he was made the youngest executive.
However, Chuuya… he was someone who blindly trusted Dazai. Someone who saw through - no - someone who tore through Dazai’s facade like the aggressive little gremlin he was.
For someone like Dazai in whom the ability to trust others is so cracked and broken that he became wretchedly timid and forever trying to read the expression on people’s faces, he thought, for the first time in 15 years of his shameful existence, that he was willing to put his trust in Chuuya as well.
They never really talked about the implications of their partnership, never really discussed how much trust existed between them nor the boundaries of how far that trust ran.
As the other half of Double Black, a fundamental level of trust was required, and Dazai was certainly willing to trust Chuuya to execute his plans flawlessly. Outside of that? Dazai was not so certain.
Would they trust each other outside of their missions as Double Black, and share some of their burdens?
Dazai reached out a hand to brush a lock of hair behind Chuuya’s ear.
Chuuya’s brows furrowed, slowly blinking his eyes open–
“Rise and shine, sleeping beauty!” Dazai practically yelled into Chuuya’s ear.
Chuuya predictably jumped up and spat several profound curses.
I wonder where that resolve to not jeopardise their mission went.
Chuuya grabbed the collar to Dazai’s shirt and shook it violently, hoping Dazai’s brain might come off like a coconut nut falling off a coconut tree.
Dazai laughed freely even in the face of Chuuya’s assault, feeling more human than he ever had.
At that moment, as Chuuya shouted profanities to his face, Dazai decided there was a secret he would be taking to the grave with him.
Dazai smiled gently, heart bursting with a feeling that was infinitely alien to him, yet he knew instinctively that this was what humans called fondness and adoration .
An expressive face that twisted along with his fluctuating emotions - so human . Those normally sapphire Blue eyes that twinkled viridian under the setting sun.
Treasures.
He wondered if it was normal to feel an irrationally strong desire to keep those eyes on him for the remainder of eternity.
~~~
Chuuya fell in battle, littered in marks of Corruption that was slowly fading as Dazai held him in his arms.
Dazai had never felt so defeated before. His grip tightened around Chuuya’s limp body as he eyed the elusive traitor of Port Mafia.
He gritted, “What is the meaning of this, Mori-san?”
The traitor, the very person their boss called to eliminate, was… the boss himself? Dazai’s brain ran tirelessly, yet he couldn’t find a reason that could justify such peculiar action from the boss.
Mori Ougai was the person who killed the old boss in order to rise in power despite being a lowly physician before. He clearly wanted the power for his own motivations, so there was absolutely no justifiable reason to label himself as a traitor.
Perhaps he was planning to eliminate Dazai and Chuuya?
Dazai was mindful not to tighten his hold anymore than he already had as Chuuya was still unconscious and exhausted after pushing his body longer than intended.
Mori knew the weakness of Corruption: time. He needed not to win in a fight, but to simply survive long enough that Dazai would have no option but to prioritise saving Chuuya from his own ability, because Mori knew Dazai would definitely save Chuuya.
Mori won, not because he was stronger than Chuuya, not because he was more cunning than Dazai. No, he won because he knew Dazai, he knew Chuuya, and he knew Double Black.
Dazai considered his options. He lacked combat strength, and his ability was only useful if he could touch his opponent, which was impossible with Elise here. He couldn’t risk leaving Chuuya alone either…
With every second he wasted mulling over his course of next actions, he could risk Chuuya’s life more; his own be damned.
Before his thoughts could spiral out of control, Mori recalled Elise and walked leisurely until he was right in front of Dazai.
Dazai stared straight back with a defiant gaze. At this distance, he might be able to pull off killing the boss.
“Don’t even think about it, Dazai-kun.” Mori was promptly answered with a click of a tongue. “Dazai-kun, we both know what you are planning to do; I can see it in your eyes. Won’t you consider listening to what I have to say first?”
“After what you did to Chuuya? I must say I’m not quite interested anymore.” Dazai answered snarkily, yet his expression lost all its childish playfulness it usually held.
Mori smiled, and there was no way for Dazai to interpret what hid behind that expression. It was just as unreadable as ever, even to Dazai’s perceptive eyes.
“From today onwards, Mori Ougai, the ex-mafia boss of Port Mafia will be labelled a traitor for daring to harm one of Port Mafia’s most important assets; Double Black. The members of Port Mafia will unanimously agree to the rise of a new leader; Dazai Osamu.” Eyes closing in tranquillity, as if imagining a world where Mori Ougai was not the feared boss of Port Mafia. “What do you think? Quite poetic, if I do say so myself.”
“And what’s the motivation behind such… questionable actions?” Dazai gritted out, cautious of his words.
Mori hummed as if he was genuinely considering the question, as if he didn’t already have an answer on his tongue. Yet all Dazai got as an answer was:
“Who knows? Will you believe me if I tell you I want to turn over and start over anew?”
May this be a knowledge that exists solely between you and me; in the new world Mori Ougai imagines, he is but a humble orphanage director with his problem child Nakajima Atsushi.
That day, as Chuuya laid limp in his arms, Dazai made a promise to himself that he would never let anyone hurt Chuuya under his watch ever again.
~~~
When Chuuya woke up, Dazai was right by his side. It seemed they were back at their shared apartment. It almost amazed Chuuya how Dazai managed to drag them back home even after facing off their worst opponent to date – their very own boss.
Chuuya asked Dazai what happened after he blacked out, and Chuuya didn’t know what he expected as a response from the menace.
“Hmm? How did we get back and did we win the fight against Mori-san? Well, no thanks to a certain slug, the battle was really gruesome! Don’t you see these scars?!?!” Dazai pulled up his sleeves, and Chuuya stared at the usual clean bandages, wondering where the scars were. Dazai quickly pulled back, “But of course, since the great Dazai Osamu was there, our little Chibikko came back alive! Isn’t it about time you show your gratitude to your amazing owner, my little doggie?!”
Nothing changed between them, even though it was a bit strange that Dazai didn’t laugh at him for failing his mission despite activating Corruption. They continued their usual banter when Chuuya was still bed-bound, and Dazai even stayed with him for an entire three days before he was forced back to work.
Despite this, Chuuya was not oblivious to the fact that Dazai had avoided talking about what happened that day, and what would happen to them now that they fought Mori. Would they be hunted down as traitors for daring to retaliate against the boss, even if it started as self-defence? What was Dazai facing at the mafia now that the executive and the boss were fighting?
Chuuya received his answers on the fifth day of recovery when he was good enough to walk around. He didn’t tell Dazai he was visiting Port Mafia, thinking the idiot might reprimand him for over exerting his body.
When he reached the boss’ office, the guards didn’t bother announcing his arrival before opening the doors. The voice that greeted him, however, was not who Chuuya was expecting.
“Ah… I’ve been expecting you, Chuuya.”
Chuuya gawked incredulously as he was greeted with Dazai’s usual cheeky smile. He trembled slightly at the implication of this turn of events.
“What–”
“Chuuya, from this day onwards, you will be my most loyal dog. You will serve as my hands… which you’re already doing, so it won’t be that different from before!” Dazai snickered at Chuuya’s expression, his hands interlaced in a manner that was reminiscent of Mori. “The only difference is that you’ll be doing all these as the newest executive of Port Mafia. What do you think?”
“It’s not like I have a choice, do I?” Chuuya chuckled lowly. Even though he had pledged his loyalty to Mori, the incident five days ago had pretty much negated it. His life was filled with betrayals, and he wished desperately that this would be the final time he had to bare his soul out to someone.
Chuuya knelt down on a knee.
If Dazai Osamu became the boss of Port Mafia at the young age of 16, the other half of Double Black, Nakahara Chuuya, would follow him to the ends of the world.
One fateful day, Dazai stumbled upon a peculiar book on his desk.
It looked like any other ordinary book, but Dazai instinctively knew it was the Book. He had no idea why it appeared before him, nor how it ended up in front of him. All he needed to do now was to take advantage of such a god sent.
He reached out to take the book, intending to put it away in a place where only he had access to. What he did not anticipate, however, was that his ability would react so vigorously with it.
The next thing he knew, memories of various lives flashed in his mind.
He felt his consciousness slowly fading away, but not before he felt a pair of arms cradling his head firmly. He knew he was in safe hands.
~~~
Dazai woke up that night feeling a bit too hot to his liking. He felt his head still pounding at the sudden influx of memories, and his heart aching with a perpetual sense of melancholy; something he could feel from every single timeline’s memories.
Before he could properly sort through all the information and decide what to do with them, he decided he needed to move elsewhere as the heat was seriously bothering him a bit too much. Yet he found himself unable to move his body due to a certain weight on his left side.
A human furnace; one with hair red as flames.
Dazai heaved a sigh. He supposed his plan of relocating was all in shambles now. Not for any reason other than that he knew Chuuya would complain, and start screaming in his ears for fainting so randomly out of nowhere, of course.
Well, now that his thoughts had calmed somewhat, Dazai realised the heat didn’t bother him that much anyway. So instead, his thoughts focused on the memories he received from the book, and a person he had never met in this world.
Oda Sakunosuke… for some reason, Dazai could feel his heart squeeze tightly just thinking about that man even though they had never met. He logically deduced that these were emotions from the Dazai of the original universe, because there was no way the Dazai in this world, one where he became a mafia boss could ever feel anything to anyone.
Beside him, a certain red haired chibi whined in his sleep and turned uncomfortably. Dazai carefully swept his bangs from his face, and carded his fingers through those loose knots of hair. Dazai watched with a fond gaze and a fonder smile as Chuuya leaned into his palm. The frown lines between his eyebrows eased as he went back to what seemed to be a peaceful slumber, snoring softly.
With these emotions and memories though… Dazai found himself unable to think about anything but to create a world where Odasaku could live his dreams in a more peaceful world.
In this world, where Dazai was the one with the Book , the one with control over the Port Mafia, and subsequently half of Yokohama… a world where Odasaku hadn’t strayed into the path of the underworld…
Dazai knew these emotions and memories did not belong to him, and he would never care for Odasaku the same way the original Dazai cared for him. Yet Dazai also knew this was the only world where he could do anything for his most precious friend, Odasaku.
He looked towards the peacefully sleeping figure by his side, and he thought to himself…
Oh, it’s quite an easy decision, isn’t it?
(It wasn’t, but that traitorous part of his heart had always been locked behind a facade he could not afford to abandon.)
When Chuuya wakes up the next day, Dazai would make sure he was no longer in the room. He would make sure he was sitting on that godforsaken mafia boss chair, ready to crank out some obnoxious order to his little loyal dog.
But for now… Dazai swept another glance at the normally infuriating slug. Gentle arms cradled the small figure.
Knowing the treacherous journey he was about to go on, Dazai certainly wouldn’t mind a bit more restful sleep.
~~~
When Chuuya barged into his room, Dazai was not in the least surprised. It happened often enough that he was almost anticipating Chuuya’s daily visits. Same time, same place, same way of kicking down his door, and most important, the same person. Always Chuuya, only Chuuya.
However, this time, Dazai had initiated his visit as he summoned the little chibi. With his very recent acquisition of memories, Dazai figured this might be the last time he could enjoy a peaceful moment with his beloved slug before he had to… leave.
Ahh… well wasn’t that just poetic? Dazai gave a little chuckle as he thought of all the worlds where Chuuya was abandoned by him.
In his memories, there was not a single universe where Dazai wasn’t acquainted with Chuuya, and their dynamic would stay the same throughout. They bickered and they fought, but they always had each other.
Like Odasaku in this world, Dazai might not always meet his other acquaintances from the original world. It was funny, and frankly intriguing. Dazai wondered why he was stuck with the slug… but perhaps that was a question for another time.
For now, for this day, and for only the remainder of this day, Dazai would give his undivided attention to Chuuya. Every fibre of his being would be laser focused on the slug.
Dazai thought this slug ought to be more grateful to receive such attention from him, yet all he received was Red and more spluttering. He secretly revelled when he received the attention of those Blue eyes as well.
Eyes that had stayed on him no matter what universe they're in.
~~~
Dazai brought Chuuya to the cemetery where Odasaku was buried in the original world. He thought it would be fitting since this was the place the original Dazai had shown the most vulnerability in.
In the original universe, this was a place for Dazai and Odasaku.
In this universe, Dazai wanted this to be a place where Chuuya would forever remember him by.
It didn’t seem like Chuuya understood the importance of this cemetery, and Dazai intended to keep it that way. Understanding the sentiments of a dead man walking would be effort in vain; Chuuya was better off hating him.
Still, seeing Chuuya so upset over their date spot was slightly disappointing. He admitted he was not the most well-versed in emotions and sentiments, so being a good ‘boyfriend’ was foreign to him. Logically, he knew even though this was a place he allowed himself to be vulnerable at, Chuuya wouldn’t know that as long as Dazai didn’t communicate this idea properly to him. Alas, as all Dazai’s tended to be, there was absolutely zero chance for such things to be said openly to an idotic Chibi.
There was a tiny voice in him. Just a very tiny one. One that Dazai almost failed to hear over the mess in his head. One that wondered what Chuuya would do if Dazai told him his plans… wondered if Chuuya would follow him. That was such a selfish desire though… The thought was abandoned and silenced as soon as it appeared.
Chuuya didn’t belong to him, nor was it his right to request such absurdity from Chuuya especially when said slug was life itself.
“Chuuya, if you are given two things of equal importance, how will you choose?” He asked, as if he hadn’t already made up his mind to pursue a peaceful world for his precious friend.
Chuuya… or Odasaku? A slug he was stuck with (in love with) in every single world… or an irreplaceable friend that met his doom in every single world except for this?
~~~
After an afternoon of basking in each other’s presence, Dazai decided it was about time they head back. Of course, as all romantic dates were supposed to be, flowers must be involved.
Dazai took Chuuya to stroll the humble little garden fertilised by neutralised cremation ashes - at least, that’s what they advertised it as. Dazai knew there was no way for cremation ashes to grow such vibrant and beautiful flowers.
Regardless, it was the thought that mattered, so Dazai knelt down to pick out the prettiest flower he could find.
He was originally going to pluck the rose, but that thought was quickly brushed off. No matter how stupid a slug was, there was absolutely zero chance for Chuuya to not understand its implications… right? (Wrong, because Chuuya would 100% fry his brain thinking what it meant. Dazai was not known for soft gestures, per se. Chuuya argued that it was justified! Dammit!)
Also because Dazai didn’t prick his fingers from the thorns, he added it as an afterthought, because it’s obviously the main reason he didn’t pick that flower! He hated pain!!
So instead, Dazai picked out a tiny Blue flower.
He strolled back to Chuuya, and looked back and forth, comparing Chuuya’s eyes with it. Disappointingly, Dazai noted the flower was still not vibrant enough, and didn't scream life the way Chuuya’s eyes did. Perhaps it was because Dazai plucked the flower? Being stuck with its roots and stems were the reason flowers had life , after all. Without them, the flower would inevitably wilt, becoming nothing but a husk of its former self.
Dazai stared unblinkingly at Chuuya’s eyes. He smiled secretively to himself, thinking those were eyes that would never wither and die away.
“Myosotis sylvatica . Ever heard of it?” Dazai doubted he had. Perhaps Chuuya would recognise its more common name, but that tiny brain of his definitely wouldn’t know of its scientific name.
The flower was of course nothing special when placed beside Chuuya - nothing could compare to Chuuya’s beauty. Dazai was just being objective, and he definitely didn’t mean anything more than stating the obvious. Still, the slightly uglier Blue flower served its purpose well enough by bringing out the most beautiful parts of Chuuya - namely his shimmering Blue eyes, as Dazai carefully slipped its stem behind his ear.
Dazai could observe the immediate effects of his actions when Chuuya flushed Red all over.
Red against Blue. Blue against Red.
Dazai truly, positively did not hate the dumbfounded expression the Chibi wore. He almost found it… endearing. Almost.
A possessive side of Dazai hoped that such expression would forever be directed to him and him only. And when he leaves… he hoped that such expression would never show itself again.
…
Forget Me Not; to the Dazai Osamu that will no longer be. May this be a memento to the Dazai you loved .
The Atsushi in the original world was nurtured. He was nurtured because the Dazai that picked him up belonged to the side of the light.
Dazai stared unblinkingly at the almost corpse-like body lying on the ground, writhing in pain.
“You have overexerted what your body is capable of. Any more of this, and you will lose yourself to the beast.” Dazai started, slowly walking towards the limp body and loomed over him. “I don’t need a beast with neither fangs or claws, nor do I have any use for a beast that cannot adhere to my command.”
Atsushi chanced a glance at the kind man who took him in, only to recoil immediately at the sight he was treated with. For a moment, Atsushi even questioned if he was still in the orphanage, and if he was even saved by a kind man in the first place.
Dazai stared at him with not a smile, not a frown, not… nothing, really. It somehow felt worse than the scrutinising looks he got back in the orphanage. It felt like Dazai was seriously considering disposing of him for being so useless, and there was nothing he could do about it.
Atsushi was a coward. He didn’t want to die, and he would even fight Dazai if it meant he could continue to live on. Despite the rumours of a sheepdog Dazai owned, Atsushi would still try to fight if it meant he could live another day. But Dazai was right, he was too weak.
Just as his survival instincts were kicking in, and he was prepared to prance the moment Dazai made a move, he felt a hand on top of his head.
“Rest, so you can grow stronger, until you will not fear even death.”
Let it be known that Dazai Osamu was not a sentimental person. This gesture was merely what the Dazai from the original timeline would’ve done.
~~~
When Dazai assigned Atsushi to be situated under Chuuya, he fully expected the Chibi to lash out violently.
He wasn’t blind to the way Chuuya would so frequently glare at Atsushi for simply breathing in the same room as him. It was quite amusing, but it also made a part of him that was less twisted to be filled with satisfaction and warmth.
So it was certainly a surprise when Chuuya not only did not throw a fit about the situation, but also somehow looked relieved?
Dazai laughed mutely as he watched Chuuya scrunch up his nose almost cutely. Almost, because it certainly wasn’t cute at all! It had merely been a month since Dazai received The Book, and a month since his bidding of farewell to Chuuya, yet it already felt like a lifetime. It felt like an eternity since the last time he sat down with Chuuya and just… existed.
(The last time… an ethereal beauty that belonged not of this world, a reflection of everything that Dazai Osamu found worthy in this miserable life.)
Dazai Osamu was a wretched being in a wretched world, so he pushed past the momentary longing and went straight back to their usual routine of bickering. Because constant was comfort, constant was manipulable.
In a world where Dazai could make no mistakes, there were no rooms for hesitation, and no rooms for fluctuating variables. Yes… this was good, to stay unchanging, to stay constant.
Dazai was aware of Atsushi’s potential from what he saw in the original world, so he wasn’t particularly worried about handing Atsushi over to Chuuya. Fighting wasn’t Dazai’s strongest suit. If he truly wanted to make this world a peaceful place for Odasaku to be in as soon as possible, he needed someone strong to train his pawns. Someone he trusted.
When Atsushi hesitantly followed Chuuya out of the room, Dazai had an inexplicable urge to hold Chuuya back and tie him to his side forever.
…
Dazai was a goal oriented man.
He simply smiled sharply at the two retreating figures.
~~~
Deja vu. A feeling of having already experienced the present situation.
Dazai cradled the injured Chuuya in his arms, carefully manoeuvring his body so his back wouldn’t touch the ground. A huge slash right across his back, bleeding excessively.
It was red, and it was red all over. It was not the red he liked.
It was Dazai’s fault for underestimating the tiger’s strength. Of course it would be different from the original Atsushi, he thought bitterly. This Atsushi was guided to the path of darkness. To live in a world of darkness, his desperation and the need for power over control should come as no surprise. It was his oversight, and the price he had to pay was a broken promise.
There was nothing he could do to alleviate Chuuya’s pain. He did his part and nullified Atsushi’s ability, but all that he could do now was wait restlessly for backup and the physician to arrive.
Indeed, Dazai had followed his instincts and decided to follow Chuuya to his mission, only to be met with a phone call and an alarmed voice suddenly cut off with a loud pained screech. Without another word, Dazai knew what must’ve happened and hurried over with renewed urgency.
Now, surrounded by the bodies of insignificant Port Mafia grunts, Atsushi lying somewhere nearby (he couldn’t be bothered to learn of his specific location), and an unresponsive Chuuya lying in his arms, Dazai could only grief for the sacrifices yet to be made in order to create a peaceful world for Odasaku.
He already knew he would inevitably continue with the plan no matter what. But right now, in this moment where Chuuya was so unnaturally quiet, he had to find some ways to distract himself from the fear of losing Chuuya looming over him.
No one spoke a word when help arrived. Chuuya was rushed to the infirmary for stitches while Dazai drowned himself in his plans and manipulation. Only when Chuuya was allowed visitors did he finally leave his office.
He stayed by Chuuya’s bedside the entire time he was asleep, carefully eyeing the peacefully sleeping form, wishing for those Blue eyes to blink open right at this moment.
It filled Dazai with infinite disdain towards himself for being the one to drain Chuuya of life.
Chuuya was salvation. Like an oasis in the vast expanse of the dying desert, and Dazai was but a struggling miserable life form in desperate need of water. He drank out of desperation. Life was too dreary to endure, so as the parasite that he was, he drank and drank and drank, until nothing was left to give in this beautiful oasis. And finally, as he sat on this dingy chair in Port Mafia’s infirmary, he was met with nothingness again.
Transformed into a horrible vermin. Dazai was once again confronted with the reality that Chuuya was not made for the vile underworld.
He wasn’t sure if he should hate himself more or Atsushi.
A knock sounded from the door, and Dazai was promptly pulled away from his spiralling.
“Dazai-san…” Atsushi hesitantly entered the room and approached him, steps light as to not accidentally trigger Dazai any more than he already did. He stood behind Dazai silently and waited to be addressed.
“I remember mentioning I have no use for the weak, and especially so for those that can’t follow simple instructions.” Dazai’s gaze did not stray from Chuuya’s peaceful form even once as he stated evenly, his voice betrayed nothing. “Tell me, Atsushi-kun, why should I still keep you around?”
Atsushi wanted to argue back, that he didn’t do it on purpose, that there wouldn’t be a next time. He said nothing, because he knew nothing he said would change the fact he had harmed Dazai’s most prized possession.
Dazai could only smile bitterly to himself, cursing the vow he made to create such a world where Odasaku could live. It was a world which could only be achieved if he led Atsushi on the right path. Regardless of whether he liked it or not, Dazai couldn’t dispose of the kid. Besides, he had a sneaking suspicion that the original Dazai wouldn’t like the idea that his protege was so promptly dismissed.
Dazai wordlessly threw a thorned collar in Atsushi’s general direction. He caught it and stayed silent, understandingly wrapped the collar around his neck as he silently waited for his punishment.
“Aren’t you lucky, little beast? You’re not allowed to die before I do.” Dazai did not say that out of mercy, not out of his kindheart. No, Dazai was far from kind. But he knew Atsushi was not allowed to die, whether it was merely for the sake of his original self, or for a better world to exist.
To create an ideal world where Odasaku could live peacefully… Atsushi’s power was needed. One or two small sacrifices for such a noble cause was worth it. Wasn’t that right, Chuuya?
Dazai could only hope that when Chuuya finally realised his plans… whether that’s before or after his death, he could forgive him for all the betrayals in all the different lifetimes. Because just as it was inevitable that they would meet in every single universe, Dazai would also inevitably leave Chuuya no matter what. But perhaps, if Dazai angered him enough, Chuuya would consider following him to hell just to beat the shit out of him?
Such wishful thinking was reserved not for sinners. An intelligent and logical bastard like Dazai would know that sinners like him were undeserving of forgiveness.
Dazai was yet a human, and he foolishly continued to wish for a world where Chuuya would follow him.
Atsushi was unceremoniously kicked out of the room after he was told to never take off the collar. He quietly thought to himself that he would’ve left even without being told to, as he saw how desperately Dazai needed to be with Chuuya right now.
That was the day Atsushi realised the demon with blood that ran as cold as the mafia itself had a fatal weakness. One Atsushi wouldn’t exploit, but it gave him an epiphany.
A demon that loved was not a demon at all.
Knowing this, Atsushi decided he would work extra hard to help lessen his workload, just so he could spend more time with Chuuya. Not to mention, he had to repay Dazai for everything he did for Atsushi - that even though he kept messing up, Dazai still chose to forgive him. Atsushi was certain that he was wrong in the past– Dazai really was a kind person after all.
~~~
When Chuuya woke up, Dazai stayed by his side for another half a day before he finally left the infirmary for the first time in nearly four days.
He couldn’t risk Chuuya getting in the way of his plans now that he was so close to succeeding, so there was really no choice.
(He couldn’t risk getting attached to Chuuya any more than he already had. He feared that his plans could be ruined by such a tiny slug. Seemingly so insignificant yet held so much power over him… Dazai feared and he feared and he distanced himself until he could no longer think of his fears.)
Dazai looked from outside the infirmary, through the tiny glassed windows on the doors as Chuuya talked animatedly with his subordinates, reassuring them for the umpteenth time that he was fine .
Chuuya would definitely complain to him about them when he’s better and could stand by his side again, and yet he would continue to put up with them with fond exasperation.
Chuuya was so kind, and Dazai…
A movement caught his attention, a calico cat appeared in his field of vision.
Dazai silently observed the cat, and the cat stared back. “… You must be Natsume-sensei. Mori-san mentioned you once.”
The cat meowed in response. Dazai had no idea what it was trying to say, so he started walking towards his office, unwilling to be seen as a lunatic by the other members of Port Mafia.
“May I know the reason you’re here?” Dazai didn’t look back. He was sure the cat was following closely anyway.
The cat meowed again, and Dazai still had no idea what it said. Somehow, he still responded like they were having a normal conversion. “You must know I’ve come in contact with the Book. Are you wondering what I’m doing with it? Or do you know already? Mori-san did say that you’re all-knowing. I wonder to what extent does that statement stand true?”
He was met with another meow, and this time, it sounded like it was teasing him. Dazai frowned, slightly frustrated by the lack of actual conversation and comprehension. He sighed and ignored the cat, adamant on getting back to his office without another fuss.
His hopes and dreams were shattered just as Dazai was about to enter his office. A soft meow sounded behind him, and when Dazai turned around, it was no longer there.
A cat should not be able to express complex feelings. Dazai wondered how Natsume managed to sound so patient and questioning, with a hint of pity as if asking him “are you sure this is the right path for you?”
Dazai could confidently say that he was not certain. Life was built on uncertainties anyway. Yet to be human was to persevere. Dazai was no exception to that.
He hoped his plans could come to fruition sooner. Sooner, so he could finally be rid of this wretched world.
Standing atop of the building, Dazai watched as tiny ants scurried along the streets. Loud cries and crumbling could be heard in the background as he hummed the tune to a song he could no longer remember.
As the bouts of battle noises started to quiet down into hushed conversations, Dazai knew it was his cue to perform the finale to this grand stage play.
He spoke of liberation, of aspirations and his visions for the better world. A world where Odasaku would not be in danger as long as Atsushi and Akutagawa were there to maintain the peace.
His thoughts never strayed from its intentions. He dared not to think of a mop of Red hair that was probably still unaware of what was about to happen, dared not to wonder if a pair of Blue eyes would lose its shimmer when he was gone.
“It’s quite a strange feeling,” Even at the final moment, Dazai still refused to let down his guard. “Like the feeling you get the day before you return to your hometown.”
With the knowledge of the Book passed down onto Atsushi and Akutagawa, there was nothing else to do other than complete the final stage of the plan. Ashes to ashes, dust to dust.
Now with neither happiness nor unhappiness, everything would come to a pass.
Gone were his shackles, he let gravity guide him to his freedom.
Indeed, there was still one regret. Dazai could never read the book Odasaku would finish. How unfortunate… he wanted to know more about the man he worked so hard to save, after all. To know him as the Dazai of this world. How wonderful would that be?
…
Hmm? Is that all he will ever regret, you ask?
… Of course not! There was still so much to do in this world. Like… banter with Chuuya, order Chuuya around like a dog, tease Chuuya about his ugly hat collection, force him to make random drunken confessions and use them for blackmail material when he wakes up, make random bets with Chuuya where he will never win, play arcade games with Chuuya… spend more time with Chuuya, watch the sunset with Chuuya again, make Chuuya blush a thousand shade of Red, make Chuuya look at him like he’s the only person to exist in the entire universe… make up for the last four and a half years where he neglected to just be with Chuuya.
Ahh… Dazai felt some strange moisture soak the bandages that wrapped around his left eye. It must be raining.
There was so much yet to be done, and still Dazai chose to be selfish and abandon everything. If ever there existed a world where Dazai could exist along with Chuuya without worrying about the future of Yokohama, conflicting sides of justice and morals… a world where they could just be normal humans . In such a world that surely did not exist, perhaps that would be where Dazai could finally treat Chuuya properly - the way he deserved.
That would surely alleviate the grief in his heart, no?
…
Did you know? Seven seconds feels like a lifetime when all you’re doing is waiting for death to consume you.
There was so much to think about, yet thoughts of Chuuya became this all-consuming being that refused to leave his mind. Dazai was at a loss.
He had always been dreaming of this day, yet why did it feel so soul-crushing when he was only seconds away from achieving it?
(Chuuya… what have you done to me?)
In a different world… one where even the Book did not tell him about…
Dazai Osamu was not a religious person, yet he hoped and he prayed for a world such that he and Chuuya could live with happiness.
But happiness is being able to hope, however faintly, for happiness. So at least, we must believe if we are to live in the world of today.