Work Text:
THE NIGHT AFTER
A phantom thief Soukoku oneshot
by Yumeirei
꒰ྀིㅤㅤ ಿㅤ ﹒ ׅ ㅤׂ ݃
July 1st, 1952
Drip, drip, drip.
a rainy forecast ambushed the entirety of London. unannounced, and unwelcome by most people, except for the ones who find solitude in the tears that spill from the clouds, and the sounds it makes as it hits the pavements. Detective Nakahara was one of them, a raven-colored umbrella in hand as he made his way through the busy streets, his black leathered-shoes making clicking sounds as he walked, sometimes it made a few splashes due to the puddle of water on where he's going.
he wasn't entirely focused on where he’s going, he had his mind on something else.. almost everything around him felt foggy, thoughts were sliding into his mind as he thought more and more about the events that happened last night.
him and the phantom thief were enemies, and yet, the ginger found himself helping the taller man. Why didn't he detain him, why didn't he just capture him right then and there? He wasn't even sure himself. Was it pity? Seeing the once mysterious and untouchable Dazai Osamu turn into a sobbing and vulnerable mess in the alleyway must have something to do with it. However, that doesn't explain why his heart beat faster when he finally let the younger man into his unorganized and small home, as if he was afraid that the thief would judge him. no, the truth was…
The thoughts were cut short as the older man bumped his head against a wall accidentally—wait, wall? He was on the sidewalk a few minutes ago!
turns out, the detective bumped into the wall of the metro station. Great, just great. “...bloody hell..” wincing as he rubbed his forehead, he continued down to where the ticket booth was. God why did his workplace have to be far away from his apartment.. it was a pain in the arse to even get here, it takes at least an hour! the metro station gets crowded and suffocating in workday mornings.
Enough internally complaining, after talking with the ticket clerk at the booth, and paying. Chuuya waited for his train, paper ticket in hand. it was around.. 9 pm, which was earlier than his usual work-leaving time. Perhaps his boss noticed how those grey irises had dark eyebags under, the usual spark was slowly disappearing, and that's why he sent the young lad home. Days, he spent tracking down the phantom thief of London and—once he found him, dazed, panicked and trembling in the dark corner of a small alleyway, and yet, he didn't arrest him, no, instead it turned into some stupid teaparty at his apartment. the sound of smoke puffing and iron scraping approaches. His train is here
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11:26 pm.
July 1st, 1952
Chuuya inserted his key into the door, and gently opened it.
Ah, home sweet home.., the small apartment was just as messy as he remembered, the smell of a bit of tobacco, and burnt papers. He flicked on the light switch and he flopped onto the couch. Groaning in frustration because even at home, he still had to deal with paperwork, and here he thought his boss would give him a break but NOPE, bye bye to “happy hour" this weekend..
and just when it couldn't get any worse—a click of a lock being undone was loud enough to make him flinched
“Nakahara Chuuyaaaaaaaa!”
Oh god the devil is here. The detective immediately jumped off the couch and went to the small balcony and sure enough.. Dazai Osamu has braced him with his presence in his all black with purple accent clothing, accompanied by a top hat and a cloak. “What in the actual fuck are you doing here, you wanker?!” The older man sputtered as the thief came into his home unbothered by the redhead’s hot temper and how his eyes looked like they were about to kill. As always, the Dazai Osamu, was amused and not negatively affected by Chuuya's fieriness. He walked around the detective’s home as if he owned the place, the audacity! Before the ginger could open his mouth further, the brunette waved a dismissive hand as he spoke in a sarcastic but well-meaning tone, “my, my, what a mess your property has become since I last came here!” his cloak flocked as he sat down on the couch. “Oh wait.. it was already a mess when I came here last time.” He chuckled, while Chuuya made his way to the small stove in the kitchen, the sound of the wooden doors of Cabinets being opened filled the once silent flat. Black teapot in hand, he turned to Dazai who was sitting with his legs crossed, with a tired, somewhat warm irritated expression on his face. “Are you here for more tea or what?” he mused as he poured water from the tap into the raven pot. The fire on the stove was already cackling, filling the room with a bit of warmth.
“Oh Chuuya, you already know I'm here for something more…” the gentleman thief teased with a wink. Offering a sly yet soft smile. He leaned back on the couch “but I suppose tea is fine~”
Chuuya held back a snort of soft laughter, but couldn't hold back a heartfelt smile “Don't get all mushy on me. Jesus Christ, you're a fool..” the hot water bubbled in the black pot, before the older man switched off the stove, then he poured it in a mug with a tea bag. “Here.” From the kitchen to the living room, he walked over and placed the cup on the coffee table.. despite Chuuya thinking about why he invited the thief into his home last night… he did it again this time, why? He doesn't even know himself. It's confusing.. he sat beside Dazai who was already drinking the tea. “Bland as always..” the younger lad exasperated before placing the drink on the counter. “Were you expecting some grand high-quality tea? Because if so, you should know I don't have that sort of dosh to throw around as a detective in the streets of london..” Chuuya rolled his eyes, before they narrowed, searching for any interior motive in Dazai's windows to his soul. “..but seriously, why are you here?”
“Why, my, my. It was to see you, of course!” Now he's just acting like Nikolai, a well-known magician whom Chuuya had the displeasure to interview due to a case. But back to the point, he doesn't know whether the criminal is flirting or being unserious.
“Just answer my question without indirectness!”
silence filled the flat with a slight tension, it wasn't suffocating, but it felt like a sense of impending doom. The detective’s hands started to feel a bit clammy as Dazai went from playful to dead serious in less than seconds. ‘I can't take this..’ Chuuya thought to himself as he turned away in an attempt to avoid the tension. ‘..did I say something wrong..??’
“Well….truth be told, I just wanted to see you, mister detective, there's nothing more to my motives, trust me.”
….
Huh.
What, I, what?
Nakahara felt like wanting to bury himself into a hole where he can't be found again, he didn't realize that his body is almost replicating that thought by stiffening up and curling into himself a bit, why did his cheeks feel warm? What is this feeling? He blinked twice, unable to look at Dazai, he didn't even wanna look into the windows to his soul, he’d die out of awkwardness before the grim reaper would even have a chance to greet him. He’s barely able to comprehend what Dazai just said before he finally blurted out a mumble
“I—what?” Finally, the ginger is able to look at the phantom of the night again, but not without looking like a tomato with wide grey eyes and furrowed eyebrows. “ok, that was way too blunt! uncalled for! Absolutely unfair!”
“So, you feel the same?”
….
Well fuck.
Dazai is looking at him with an all-knowing smug smirk just as he asked that, quite aware of what would happen when he just let the words do the trick.. and well, Chuuya is internally panicking, there's no way. Right? He didn't help Osamu last night because he…loved him, right? It could be pity or just something else? Right???
“I don't—”
“Then why the red face?”
“IT'S A NATURAL REACTION!”
“Here comes the denial” the brunette sighed, as he ran his fingers through his hair. well…it's honestly fine for Chuuya to not like him back or anything.. afterall, in this time and age, there's few chances of them living happily ever after.. no one is accepting them into society. It's not that Dazai cares whether others would hate him for being into gentlemen, but since Chuuya cares.. all the thief can do is accept that, and let him have his moments. It's a common fear to have after all. Life is cruel.. and so are the people living in it.
꒰ྀིㅤㅤ ಿㅤ ﹒ ׅ ㅤׂ ݃ ♱
2:34 am
July 2nd, 1952
It took a long while for the detective to finally calm down, Chuuya had been pacing around and his speech was barely clear. It went from rambling, stammering, to quivering.. and now, silence. Loud silence, the older man looked and was defeated, staring at the floor. He didn't know how to feel about self-discovery about his homosexuality. He should be ashamed of it, but he isn't, and he is scared of that. The feeling was terrible. isolating, suffocating.. all the awful emotions and thoughts you can think of, it was making a mess in the detective's head which was usually organized and controlled.
The scent of the tea he made for Dazai earlier slipped in, the phantom thief pushed the mug to Chuuya, as a gesture to take it. Although, it made him more hesitant. Confused.. more lost. It wasn't until the brunette poked his shoulder that his ambush of thoughts came to a halt.
“You need this more than I do.” soft, and caring melted-chocolate gaze met with tired and once down gaze stormy-grey ones. The investigator finally picked up the mug, and slowly drank from it. The cold liquid slides down his throat as he gulps. It wasn't warm and comforting, but it was better than nothing, And that's enough for the ginger headed man. It's..hard, to think, to talk, to breathe. However, his rival’s voice was enough to soothe him for now “we’re in the privacy of our home.” The thief would add “no one is going to arrest us or fine us.” when they say that love makes a man crazy, they mean it. Dazai is either fearless or just incredibly shameless in his fancy for Chuuya. The more the detective thinks about it, the more Osamu’s behavior towards him makes sense.
First, he revealed the reason why he didn't like using his real last name to the detective, which gave him more insight into the thief's home life. Cold and alone. even though the first initial excuse was “ ‘Ougai’ didn't sound like a fit next to ‘Dazai’ ” that piece of information was really intimate. Why else would the phantom thief trust Chuuya to not reveal that information? And why that fact specifically?
Second, he leaves weird notes after he steals things. Whether it’d be gems, necklaces, and bracelets or even portraits. they would always be something incredibly cheesy, like : “I would steal more paintings if only they were of you!” And, speaking of stealing, the thief had admitted to taking some of the gingerhead’s things. Including his black ribbon, and they’d usually be replaced with something more meaningful in return, but even then, Dazai wouldn't steal things that are really, really important to Chuuya. Photos of family, his notebooks, hell even the casefiles of the phantom thief himself. It's odd, since that would have been a big advantage for the criminal, yet, he didn't take them.
Third of all, and lastly, Dazai went out of his way to save Chuuya from being framed, suspected, and even arrested. Even when the situations were not that dire, the phantom thief always made sure that the detective’s safety was his top, utmost priority. For example, he was the reason why Nakahara was led away from the place where a crime was committed, with multiple witnesses, granting the older man a really strong alibi. And other times, he left clues for Chuuya whether it’d be notes or items he found.
The pieces are starting to come together. Those weren't just things that a friend would do, combined with Chuuya's weird feeling of ‘fear of getting judged by Dazai when he shouldn't be caring in the first place’, it paints a really clear picture, the gentleman thief doesn't just love the detective.
“ He trusts him, even with the most intimate of information and details. He adores him, more than just a muse and a gem, but a person he considers his beloved. He is protective of him, throwing away his supposed responsibility as the phantom thief just to make sure Chuuya is ok. ”
Truth be told,
Dazai genuinely does love him, and…undoubtedly, as much as Chuuya is afraid to admit it, he feels the same way about him. The trust is mutual, the care is received and sent with the right amount from both sides.
The detective crosses his arms before it turns into a hug to himself. His eyebrows knitted together, uncertain and a bit sad.. he let out a breath that he didn't even know was being held, giving himself a few moments to process before he finally faced Dazai, who was waiting patiently with a blank expression. “..fine..!” he stumbled out “you win! I love you! you’re an idiot, but I love you! Are you happy?!—”
He was almost finished with his imperfect but honest confession, when the thief stole a soft kiss on the cheek. Pulling away slowly with a satisfied grin forming on his stupid smug face “i like words when they're messy and unscripted~” it wasn't a tease, it was something more, though Chuuya can't exactly pinpoint what it is.. but it made him feel…content, calm, warm, just mushy on the inside. It was driving him nuts! His body automatically wanted to scramble out of the situation out of overwhelming emotions and nervousness. He wanted to hide. Before he even had the chance to move out of sight and off the couch, he was pulled down again roughly and pinned into the soft material, Dazai's lips landed on Chuuya's, softly and gently. A quick one before the phantom softened his grip. “Apologies..” the word came out pathetic but genuine, and to be honest, Osamu didn't care how he sounded. “I don't like seeing you run away and hide over and over and over again.. it gets boring after a while.” He pouted, then burying his face into Chuuya's chest, his hold on the man’s petite waist was firm but not tight…the gingerhead sighed, he can't stay mad at this dumbass for long.. because he's right, as he hates to say it : he’s been hiding from his own feelings for years, every emotions was pushed to the side in favor of working.. he doesn't remember the last time he let himself breathe freely “I’m sorry, I just—” Chuuya groaned before admitting weakly, well, Dazai's not the only pathetic one here.. everyone has a weakness, and the detective looks adorably weak. What's the shame when it makes him more rawly human? “I’m not good with romance and relationships…”
“But you watch romance shows all the time, chibi.”
Silence.
“I DO NOT!”
And with that… the old banter came back, but this feels…intimate, Dazai would guide Chuuya through the connection they share.. they're not just in a room, they're in their own little world where they could marry afar, kiss, hug, all the stuff any man and woman would do together.. except, without shame. The lovers can dream about it as much as they’d like.. but they're never gonna end up together…married, happily. Peacefully.
꒰ྀིㅤㅤ ಿㅤ ﹒ ׅ ㅤׂ ݃ ♱
10:53 pm
July 1st, 1962
“ You'll never know how much it hurts to see you sit and cry
You know you need and want my love, yet you're afraid to try
Why do you run and hide from life, to try it just ain't smart
Why can't I free your doubtful mind and melt your cold, cold heart ”
— Hank Williams
The radio buzzed, playing their favorite song as they danced in a dark room, with only the moonlight guiding their steps, their every action. Dazai's hand around Chuuya's waist as the other held the other's soft hand. They danced in a familiar waltz. Today exactly, is their 10th anniversary, their love for each other just as strong as any other. The phantom thief's eyes were closed as he hummed along with the song.. while Chuuya smiled at the sight.
“I missed this, Chuuya.” Dazai remarked as nostalgia washed over him, yet, a hint of sadness can be found.. it made the detective’s smile falter, but his grey eyes even softer. But the yearning ever so so strong, especially from the thief “even if I turn myself in.. even if I become a good man, I'm afraid that our fate will end the same..” he added, silently grieving over the loss, but it wasn't about the love and bond the lovers had together.. As they continued to dance, they exchanged words with each other. Chuuya gave Osamu a gentle and reassuring smile, the hand that was once on the younger’s shoulder was now caressing the thief’s cheek, ‘Maybe in another life, we wouldn't need to be in an affair together, to hide ourselves from the world’ was the silent message with just one gaze.
꒰ྀིㅤㅤ ಿㅤ ﹒ ׅ ㅤׂ ݃ ♱
Maybe in another life, Chuuya wouldn't be forced to marry a woman that hurt him so much.
Maybe in another life, if the world wasn't so cruel to them, they would have loved freely.
Maybe in another life, there's no judgment, no rules of society to decide the limits of love.
but even here, their love will always have no bound, no leash, no cage, even if it feels like it.
" There is no real limit of love, and there shouldn't be. Doves may represent love, but unlike Doves, Love can never be controlled in a cage. "
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The End.