Work Text:
Dazai was expecting a normal day for the most part.
Certainly, cases with Kenji were always entertaining. Dazai always got a kick out of how differently Kenji approached situations that he couldn’t help but watch him go with both fascination and delight. The boy managed to get by in the world with a genuineness and kindness that was entirely foreign to Dazai, who’d used his brains and manipulation, so he took the chance every now and again to observe his cases. It was chaotic in a way that was a sharp contrast from dull office work.
Not to mention all the free stuff he managed to get just by standing at Kenji’s side and being associated with him!
So overall, a case with Kenji always made for a wonderful workday as it also got him out of doing paperwork for a while.
It was also why, when they finally arrived back at the agency, Dazai fully expected to return to the boring mundane schedule of paperwork and teasing Kunikida.
He certainly didn’t anticipate the commotion they walked into.
“Dazai-san!”
He recognized the tone. The words, the slightly panicked edge, the gratitude coloring them at his presence, those were all familiar to him.
The voice, and its much higher pitch, were definitely not.
Dazai blinked down at the young woman before him.
She had the worst haircut he had ever seen, choppy and uneven where it fell just below her chin like someone had taken an axe to it instead of scissors. But while the style was different, he knew that white hair with a single streak of black anywhere.
The clothes, slightly too big on her frame except for around the chest area, were also a very large clue.
“Atsushi… kun?” He couldn’t help but turn it into a question.
Her anxious smile was filled to the brim with relief. “Oh, good! You recognize me!”
“Atsushi-san!” Kenji also recognized her immediately. “Are you trying out a new haircut? You look very nice!”
Atsushi spluttered at that, easily taken off guard, but Dazai couldn’t blame her.
After all, normally Atsushi was a he.
And he wasn’t the only one who was different as Dazai looked around the room.
Kunikida must’ve either had an outfit already prepared in case of this happening or stopped by a store on the way back (though Dazai had a feeling it was the former for some strange reason), but she had changed into a woman’s business casual outfit that was appropriate for the office and supported the ample breasts she now had that would’ve strained her usual work shirt. She was furiously completing paperwork at mach speed, clearly trying to use it to distract herself.
Kyouka didn’t have many visible changes, due to still wearing the usual kimono, but his hair did have a much shorter cut — his normal pigtails having disappeared — and as Dazai squinted, he noticed that the kimono looked a bit shorter than usual. Kyouka must’ve gotten a bit taller. That didn’t detract from his porcelain doll-like appearance.
And over on the couch…
Gin was patting Akutagawa on the shoulder where she’d gone from sickly Victorian child aesthetic to full-on Victorian waif. He’d never imagined she could look so delicate, though the way she was glaring at anyone who looked twice at her belied that delicacy. Dazai knew full well that if pushed, she would still live up to her title of Rabid Dog.
“Atsushi-kun, what happened?” Dazai cast his mind about trying to remember what case Kunikida and the others had been working on, because he was fairly certain they hadn’t been partnering with the Port Mafia on anything.
“Well…” Atsushi fidgeted, before she had to push her suspender strap back over her shoulder as it’d been slipping. “We were pursuing that thief that’s been robbing various high end stores lately…”
Ah, yes. A thief who’d been making headlines in the paper for making off with the best products luxury stores had to offer. They’d been running rings around the police, making it unclear who exactly was stealing the goods as footage was either tampered with or showed a person who was never seen actually entering or exiting the store taking the items. The rich folks in town had been frothing at the mouth to catch them as their favorite stores had grown more cautious and someone flaunted their ability to infiltrate their spaces.
The police had finally called upon the Armed Detective Agency, suspecting that the culprit was using an ability to avoid capture.
Ranpo had told them straight to their faces that, of course, an ability was being used. He’d also determined where the ability user would strike next though he’d decided to leave the actual capture to the other detectives’ hands.
Perhaps on purpose. Dazai mused as he narrowed his eyes at Ranpo and Yosano perched on top of Ranpo’s desk, watching the chaos around them. Yosano certainly wasn’t hiding how entertained she was.
However, Dazai probably wouldn’t be able to prove whether Ranpo had suspected the culprit’s ability or not, as it was usually better to keep him away from arrests. So there was no need to stay on that track.
“As it turns out, the culprit did, in fact, have an ability.” Kunikida tersely said as she turned around in her chair, pen gripped tightly in her hand. “Apparently, they can freely switch their gender and the gender of anyone they manage to touch.”
Kyouka nodded in confirmation. “They would enter the chosen store as a woman, steal the goods as a man, and then walk out again without anyone noticing.”
Yes, a change of gender and probably some small wardrobe changes in the camera’s blindspot — evidenced by how no one’s clothes seemed to change besides Kunikida’s — and no one would easily make the connection between them.
Still…
His gaze drifted over to the Akutagawa siblings on the couch, a silent question in his eyes.
Akutagawa gave a small cough before she spoke, her voice uncannily like her sister’s now. “We were attending to business on the same street.”
Ah, probably ensuring the collection of a late protection payment. Most likely someone who had an ability user on hand or enough muscle to be a potential problem considering this would normally be beneath these two’s skill level. Or perhaps someone with enough influence that a reminder of what would ensue if they didn’t pay was needed.
Akutagawa lightly touched her long locks that were now pulled back into a ponytail — almost resembling a dog’s tail in Dazai’s opinion. “The culprit ran into us as your incompetent colleagues were giving chase.”
True, having your gender suddenly changed would be enough to throw anyone off. It created the perfect opportunity to get away. That was most likely another reason why the thief had yet to be caught, though now Dazai wondered if there were other gender-swapped victims out there.
“Oh, as if you were so much better at catching them!” Atsushi shot right back, immediately stomping over to glare at Akutagawa directly.
“I was still more helpful than you, who was slipping around like a newborn foal.”
Atsushi’s face immediately reddened. “My clothes started to fall when they changed me! What was I supposed to do? Flash the entire street!”
“I don’t see why you’re angry with me over your impractical clothing.”
“Why you —”
“All right, let’s settle down.” Out of habit, Dazai immediately got in between the two and grabbed them before they could start a more literal cat fight than usual.
Of course, the moment he touched their skin to properly scruff them, No Longer Human flashed and instead of two girls, he was holding onto two boys.
Dazai hoped he hid his disappointment well. He’d been hoping this was a case where he needed to touch the ability user if only to mess around with these changes a bit more.
Atsushi, however, gasped with delight and leapt out of his grasp. “I’m back to normal!” He automatically began to adjust his suspenders to accommodate his returned height.
Akutagawa merely huffed and sat back on the couch, but Dazai could tell that he was quietly pleased as well.
Kyouka was at his elbow in a moment. “Dazai-san?”
Dazai couldn’t say no to those eyes, even if they currently belonged to a boy. A quick touch of his hand and Kyouka was her normally cute self.
Oh, well. How quickly things were going back to normal. Perhaps he could find a way to have fun with this later.
He turned to Gin. “Well, it was nice to see that you came with your brother to make sure he returned to his normal self, but it seems you can both leave now.”
Gin blinked at him before sighing. “Dazai-san.” Oh, wow, that voice was a lot lower than normal. “I got changed, too.”
He stared for a moment, wondering if he’d missed something.
No, as far as he could tell, there was no visible indication that Gin’s gender had been changed.
Oh, well, gender presentation thoughts aside, this was still an easy fix.
A ruffle of hair was sufficient enough to turn Gin back into a girl. Though she playfully slapped his hand away, he couldn’t help but chuckle as he looked over the kids who’d been rightfully restored to their normal gender.
His work here was done.
“Dazai.” Kunikida growled. “Are you forgetting someone?”
She tapped her foot against the floor — jeez, she actually went for heels instead of a more sensible shoe — and she clearly was attempting to burn a hole in his head with her eyes considering how intense her glare was.
“Ah, are you sure you want to change back?” Dazai made sure to keep a proper distance so Kunikida couldn’t force No Longer Human to activate by grabbing him. “After all, women do live longer than men. It’d give you more time to achieve your ideals.”
That actually gave Kunikida pause. “I have heard that before…” She warily mused.
Yosano popped that potentially fun balloon. “Statistically on average, perhaps.” A smirk glided across her face. “But do you want to deal with all the potential issues that women have to deal with? Including a certain monthly pain?”
The blood drained from Kunikida’s face at her words and honestly, Dazai couldn’t blame her for that reaction. From what he understood of it, he too had no desire to face the monthly curse. He did hate pain, after all.
Kunikida rallied and determination shone in her eyes. “Dazai.” She said, pushing up her glasses. “Nullify this ability. Now.”
Dazai debated for a moment what his play should be, because he really should —
“Kenji, grab him.”
“Okay!” The decision was wrenched from him as Kenji held onto his arm with his usual smile. And even with his ability nullified, Kenji was a strong kid. “Are we playing a game now?”
“You could say that.” Kunikida stalked over, knowing he was cornered.
“Ah, Kunikida-kun, I was totally going to nullify it!” Dazai protested. “Besides, don’t you want to wait a bit so you can —”
“And let you wriggle out of changing me back? I don’t think so!” Kunikida’s hand snapped forward, wrapping around his neck, and the effect was instant.
With a flash of light, Kunikida was back to his usual self.
Though his clothes, which had fit perfectly only moments ago, now either sagged or were too tight in completely different areas.
Dazai had wondered if Kunikida had shaved his legs to fit into the appearance of the pencil skirt he wore, but that must’ve been a woman-Kunikida exclusive considering the hairy legs now emerging from beneath the skirt.
“I was going to ask if you wanted to wait a bit so you could change back into your regular clothes before turning back.” Dazai weakly pointed out.
Face red from his unintentional crossdressing, Kunikida barely restrained a scream as he immediately released Dazai, turned on his heels — which had to be hurting given the difference in foot size — and stomped out of the office towards the locker room to change.
“Well,” Dazai straightened and brushed off his hands, Kenji letting him go now that Kunikida was gone, “my work here is truly done now.” If he wanted, he could probably skip out now and Kunikida could hardly complain.
“Unless,” he turned to the other previous victims, “there’s others that were affected as well that need to have the ability nullified.”
Atsushi and Kyouka exchanged a glance; Atsushi was notably nervous though that wasn’t necessarily a red flag as initial encounters with new situations could usually throw him off at first.
However, the way Akutagawa and Gin looked at each other, certainly was.
He hadn’t been told everything yet.
Dazai narrowed his eyes and Atsushi cracked.
“Well, not as far as we know…” He glanced away. “Or at least, no one’s come forward.”
“I suppose we can ask the ability user to know for sure, since they’ve been arrested.” Dazai dug a bit deeper. “You did manage to capture them, right?”
“Ah, yes! Of course we did!”
Akutagawa snorted at Atsushi’s assertion. “Oh, so you were the one to capture him. Is that the story you’re going with?”
Atsushi’s attitude immediately switched and he whirled on Akutagawa. “Hey! Like you have any room to talk!”
“I, at least, am not seeking to take credit where it’s not due.”
“Are you kidding me —?!”
Ah, sometimes Dazai wondered if he made the right decision putting these two together. They could work so well together, their abilities complimented each other and were so versatile when combined, and yet…
Their bickering made him so nostalgic.
Their hatred for each other did help push their limits, but it could certainly become grating if he let it go on long enough.
A tug at his sleeve redirected his attention from the fighting.
“Dazai-san.” Kyouka solemnly looked up at him. “Chuuya-san was the one who captured the ability user.”
His eyebrows instantly raised to his hairline.
That didn’t make sense. Chuuya was at too high a level to really concern himself with pushing for protection money, especially for anything local. There was no reason for him to be present anywhere near the high end shopping area. Not to mention, it was a work day, so really, Mr. Work-a-holic would’ve been —
“Chuuya-san had the day off.” Gin supplied, sidling up to his other side to observe Akutagawa and Atsushi’s clash from a safer distance. “He stepped in and took care of the culprit when he walked out of a store and saw us all after them.”
Yes, that sounded like Chuuya. Sticking his nose where it didn’t belong and helping when as a supposedly scary mafioso he really had no obligation to.
“And he didn’t get hit?” Dazai prodded, because he was getting a feeling…
“Of course, he didn’t!” Kunikida reappeared faster than Dazai expected, his usual attire back in its place. “Unlike the rest of us, he didn’t look different at all.”
Dazai didn’t look at Gin, who was proof that a change in gender didn’t necessarily mean a change in looks when androgyny was on your side.
Not to mention that Dazai knew something the rest of them didn’t.
“In any case, I will be contacting the police to see if there is anyone else affected that will need your help.” Kunikida pushed his glasses up his nose. “In the meantime —”
“Ah, Kenji-kun! You’re big enough to handle the paperwork yourself now, right?” Dazai ignored him and turned to Kenji instead.
Kenji naturally grinned right back. “Of course I am, Dazai-san!”
“Then I’ll leave it up to you!” Dazai gave a cheery wave and swiftly headed for the door before Kunikida could catch him.
“Wha—?! Dazai! Get back here!!”
Unfortunately for Kunikida, Dazai had much more important matters to attend to.
Nakahara Chuuya was a self-made man.
Most people were aware of that fact regarding how he’d worked his way through the ranks of the Mafia after leading his own organization. They knew of his skills: in fighting, in his ability, in negotiations. They knew that he had very much earned the life he currently had.
However, most were not aware of exactly how accurate that statement was in a very different sense.
Now that Dazai thought of it, perhaps only he, Kouyou, Mori, Hirotsu, and whichever medical staff were assigned to Chuuya were aware of this little tidbit within Yokohama.
(That android detective was probably aware of that truth, but if the remnants of the Sheep never figured it out, Dazai wouldn’t be surprised. It would be like them to take advantage of Chuuya in this regard as well.)
And if what Dazai suspected was true, even if the words were often used interchangeably in many contexts, then technically what the ability was doing was a sex swap, not a gender swap. Though, of course, so far that hadn’t made much of a difference for the victims affected.
Chuuya, though, would be a different matter.
So Dazai wasn’t surprised when he broke into Chuuya’s apartment and found it surprisingly quiet. If not for the shoes and hat by the door, Dazai would’ve suspected that Chuuya was still out and about. He only gave those a glance as he made his way further into the apartment.
And the fact that Chuuya hadn’t immediately burst out to try throwing something at him the moment he sensed his presence — because Chuuya’s senses were just as sharp as his when it came to somehow knowing when the other was near — was more than enough proof that Dazai’s suspicions were true.
He found Chuuya in the bedroom standing in front of the full-length mirror in the corner. His shirt and flannel were strewn on the bed and in his hand was his final upper garment, leaving him with his chest bare and only his pants and socks still on.
Dazai drew his gaze away from there for the time being, instead looking at the reflection of Chuuya’s expression.
Dazai couldn’t read him at the moment. Chuuya’s face was carefully neutral, the way it did whenever he became overwhelmed with emotions but was trying to desperately control them. Or at least not show his vulnerability.
But Dazai knew Chuuya. Even like this, he knew where to look to gain a glimmer of insight.
And Chuuya’s eyes were the best window to view his soul.
And in those, Dazai found…
Uncertainty. Curiosity. Disquiet. Fascination. And a whole host of emotions Dazai couldn’t pin down as they came and went too quickly.
Huh. That wasn’t the reaction Dazai had been expecting at all.
“What the hell are you doing here?”
Dazai hid the slight jump at the unexpected words as Chuuya’s eyes met his in the mirror.
“I don’t remember inviting a vagabond into my house.” Chuuya continued, a sharp glare making his displeasure known.
Dazai heaved a dramatic sigh. “Well, it couldn’t be helped. A little birdie implied that a certain slug may have gotten hit by an ability user and needed it nullified.”
Chuuya scoffed, redirecting his gaze back towards his reflection. “If I needed ya, I would’ve called you.”
They both knew that was a lie. Even after all these years, Chuuya had to practically be on Death’s door before he’d allow himself to “burden” others with his problems.
(Another strike against the Sheep in Dazai’s mind.)
And even then, he would rarely come right out and ask for what he needed.
He and Dazai were far too alike in that regard.
Most likely, he would’ve waited until he had stabilized his emotions and then sought Dazai out. Either demanding Dazai fix it or subtly trying to get it nullified without saying a word.
Still, Dazai was here now, so there was no way for him to get around this.
Dazai decided to be magnanimous and not point all of this out for once. Instead, he steered them back to the matter at hand. “So…” He drawled, slowly letting his eyes lower to look at Chuuya’s torso. “What do you think?”
It was a very nice looking body to be fair. Pecs and defined muscles (the only reason there wasn’t a full six-pack was due to Chuuya actually trying to stay hydrated and well-fed and he was all the better looking for it) characterized it. Even now there were errant freckles here and there, especially on his shoulders, though they were fainter than when they were fifteen as Chuuya’s higher position resulted in more office work and indoor negotiations. Scars marked the skin as well, ranging in size and color from faint and small to distinct and prominent. The one in Chuuya’s back from a certain blade drew Dazai’s attention but he ignored it for now in favor of taking in the whole picture. All in all, it was the body of a man who was athletic and, despite the past wounds embedded in his skin, took care of himself.
It was also notably different from Chuuya’s usual body.
Chuuya didn’t respond to Dazai’s question. His expression twisted again — was that a hint of dissatisfaction? — as he studied himself.
So, of course, Dazai had to lighten the mood. “You know, with pecs like those, they aren’t all that smaller than your usual boo—!”
Chuuya’s binder smacked him in the face.
“Shut yer trap, ya degenerate!” A bright blush began to spread across Chuuya’s cheeks even as he yelled at him, reaching all the way to the tips of his ears.
Dazai hid a grin as he bent to pick up the fallen binder. Chuuya really was at his most fun when he was flustered like that. However, his grin faded into a frown as he studied the binder.
“You took down the culprit, right?” Dazai asked. The grunt he got as a response was answer enough. “You fought while wearing a binder?”
“It’s not like I expected to fight today; it was supposed to be my day off!” Chuuya immediately protested, but Dazai had heard too many similar excuses when they were younger. Kouyou had delivered many a lecture regarding it that Dazai had caught the tail end of when coming to pick up Chuuya.
“And how long were you wearing it?” Dazai narrowed his eyes as he studied Chuuya again, as if he could determine the time from simply staring at his chest.
Chuuya just rolled his eyes. “Well within acceptable limits.”
“And you haven’t been wearing it while fighting?” Dazai pushed, because that’d been the bigger issue.
“Fucking hell, check my drawers! It’s mainly sports bras that are designed perfectly for that kind of shit!”
Dazai conceded the point, taking his word that he’d found a proper workaround for that particular problem.
Dazai hadn’t been lying; or at least, not quite. Admittedly, Chuuya’s breasts were bigger than the pecs he was now sporting, but they’d been on the smaller side of average. He hadn’t really begun to develop in that area, a bit of a late bloomer, until he joined the Mafia. Most likely due to that fact that, while the Sheep had certainly been better off as Chuuya protected them and consolidated their territory, Chuuya still had that nasty habit of giving up what he had to those who he felt needed it more, much to his detriment. Kouyou had fussed over him like he was a half-starved pup in those early days as he’d basically been surviving on just above the bare minimum.
(Oh, look, three strikes. Dazai had been well within his rights to take the Sheep out even without all his other grievances against them.)
And once Chuuya had breasts… Well, his biggest beef with them seemed to be that they could get in the way of him fighting. Hence the issue of wearing a binder when he really shouldn’t be fighting in it, given his vigorous nature and propensity to lead with his fists or feet for dealing with his problems.
Dazai remembered that Chuuya had considered getting top surgery at one point — not necessarily because he needed it nor particularly wanted it; he just wanted to explore the options available to him — but then the one doctor he would’ve trusted to supervise or do the procedure himself had been killed by Verlaine and he hadn’t talked about it since.
Given all of that, Dazai had assumed that Chuuya would be happier with this current turn of events.
But not a single inch of Chuuya showed a shred of happiness as he ignored Dazai and once more studied how he looked.
Dazai’s brow furrowed slightly.
Dazai was the person who knew Chuuya the best, but even then, there were things he knew he would never quite understand. This had always been among those things, but Chuuya always surpassed his predictions.
Though this time, he’d thought that his prediction might actually be to Chuuya’s benefit.
“Is Chuuya upset that he didn’t get taller due to the ability?” Dazai prodded, despite it being a lie. Chuuya actually did appear to be one inch taller now — he really hoped Chuuya hadn’t noticed that.
In any case, he couldn’t just ask Chuuya what was wrong, so he needed to get him to talk somehow.
And of course, the mention of his height worked like a charm as usual.
“That has nothing to do with —” Chuuya whirled to glare at him but cut himself off abruptly with a sharp tch.
Dazai narrowed his eyes. He’d been so close to getting answers, but Chuuya knew his tricks too well.
Though it also meant that Chuuya could read his unasked question in the tilt of his head before he turned back to the mirror.
“It’s…” Chuuya bit his lip, a moment of hesitation, before he continued. “It’s wrong. Like this.”
Dazai blinked, not having expected that. He had thought that the ability would cause the opposite effect on Chuuya.
“It’s just —” Chuuya stumbled over his words, vulnerability such as this always a struggle for both of them, even if it was easier in some ways when it came to each other.
So Dazai stayed silent for once, not wanting to disrupt such a delicate process.
As Dazai watched, Chuuya clutched his right wrist, thumbing a dark mark on his skin there — a habit that Chuuya had gained in the four years of Dazai’s absence.
“It’s not me.” Chuuya finally spoke, grimacing at his reflection. “This isn’t my body.”
And Dazai suddenly understood.
Chuuya had had bouts of body dysphoria before, but notably, most of the time it wasn’t due to his gender or its presentation.
No, the cause of Chuuya’s body dysphoria laid in a child from a tank who looked exactly like him, except — Chuuya swore to Dazai once when he was drunk off his ass and hurting in more ways than one — his eyes had been kinder and body more fragile. A child who should’ve lived instead of him, no matter which of them had been the original or the clone.
The dysphoria came from footage of Corruption that a subordinate had been stupid enough to film and then even stupider to share with others until Chuuya had the chance to view his ability’s ultimate form for the first time from an outsider’s perspective.
Dazai had eliminated the foolish grunt and every witness who dared to fear and isolate Chuuya due to it, even though it’d been too late.
Chuuya was a self-made man.
And it was hard-earned for Chuuya to get to that point.
But at the end of the day, Chuuya’s normal body was the one that Chuuya had claimed as his own. It was the one that he had accepted and molded to his preferences. His body was the way it was because that’s how Chuuya wanted it.
If Chuuya wanted differently, he had enough money and resources to make it happen. The fact that he hadn’t was proof that he was content with the way things were.
“Ugh, whatever.” Chuuya groused, trying to move on and pretend he hadn’t been vulnerable and honest mere moments before. He turned back to Dazai and held out his hand. “Just be useful for once and nullify it already.”
Dazai didn’t take it though, leaving him hanging.
Dazai couldn’t leave things like this. Not sober and honest and ugh, sentimental.
Chuuya’s brow furrowed. “Well?” He wiggled his fingers. “What are ya waiting for?”
Luckily, there was another question that had been bugging him.
“Are you sure you want to go back to normal before we… explore the possibilities of your body like this?” Dazai rocked back and forth on his heels.
“Hah?” Chuuya squinted in suspicion. “What the hell are you babbling about now?”
“Well, you know,” Dazai brought his hand up to rest on his chin as he thought back, “the peons are always going on about you having “big dick energy” so shouldn’t we take this opportunity to see if it’s true?”
Chuuya’s mouth dropped open at his audacity and he could only stare at him.
“Come on, don’t you want to compare? After all, I’m sure in this regard I’m also big—”
“You goddamn pervert!”
Dazai should’ve expected the slap.
Really, he should’ve expected some sort of physical retaliation due to the violent shorty’s nature.
No Longer Human flashed as Chuuya’s palm met his face, but as Dazai regained his bearings in the aftermath and looked over at Chuuya, he noted that the transformation back had done nothing for the vehement blush that had taken over Chuuya’s face.
However, more importantly, Chuuya’s body was back to normal!
“Don’t know what the fuck I expected from a no-good degenerate like you.” Chuuya growled, hands on his hips, as he glared down at Dazai with disgust.
“Chuuya!” Dazai whined. “It was a legitimate question!”
“I highly doubt that. It was more likely for your own sick curiosity.” Chuuya huffed before walking over to the dresser and pulling out a sports bra to slip on.
As he moved, Dazai noted just how much more at ease he immediately was. There was a lightness to his steps that had nothing to do with his ability. A smile flickered at his lips before Dazai regained control of himself.
“And this is the thanks I get for nullifying the ability.” He grumbled. He twirled Chuuya’s binder around his finger, though he knew that Chuuya had others he could’ve grabbed instead. “Aren’t you staying in? Can’t you just let yourself hang loose?”
“With you sticking around? I don’t think so.” Chuuya rolled his eyes, despite the fact that he’d gone without plenty of times when Dazai was over. He watched Chuuya pull his shirt back on as well.
“Besides, I still got shit I want to do before the end of the day.” Chuuya shooed him away. “You can stink up some other joint since you’re done here.”
“But Chuuya…” Dazai made sure to draw out his name in the way he hates. “Shouldn’t I get some sort of reward?”
“For what? Doing the only thing you’re useful for?” Chuuya shot him a disbelieving look before leaving the room.
Dazai trailed behind him and into the kitchen. “I came out of my way just to help you and this is the thanks I get.” Dazai pouted as he sat down on one of the bar seats and then draped his body across the counter. “This is why I never do anything nice for you.”
“As if you didn’t make it clear that you had your own agenda for coming. You never do me any favors.” Chuuya groused, but Dazai hid a smile as Chuuya pulled out some fresh crab as well as other ingredients that made up his favorite dish.
And enough ingredients for two, no less.
Gratitude would never pass through either of their lips, but they knew each other well enough to know when they’d done right by the other.
Because for as much as Dazai would tease Chuuya for — and there were many things that he would and did harass him over — this was one of the lines Dazai would never cross.
Because a Chuuya who was uncomfortable in his body wasn’t any fun to tease at all.
And personally, Dazai hated Chuuya as the man he was.
Just like Chuuya, he wouldn’t have him any other way.