Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Dropping into the past again was not on Chuuya’s bucket list. Honestly, the first round trip had been pretty fun. After seeing the Flags, he’d been so happy that he bought random gifts for the entire mafia. He’d even spent some time with Dazai. Then a little more time. Then some more time. 

Dazai seemed hell bent on reconciling, and honestly, Chuuya hadn’t complained. He was glad, actually, that Dazai was even willing to open up. And, as the agency and mafia grew closer into a partnership, Dazai and Chuuya grew closer than they’ve ever been before. 

Kouyou had started calling their outings dates, like she had before, though she no longer seemed to be joking.  

Then, about a year after Chuuya’s little journey to the past, they began to date officially. Chuuya was still surprised that they’d managed several heartfelt conversations that didn’t evolve into verbal battles, eventually turning into a soft kind of relationship that Chuuya didn’t hate.

And then he was sent to the past. Again. 

Now, Chuuya wasn’t the easiest to piss off typa guy (despite all his documented interactions with Dazai) but when he got a call that the time travel ability user got out of captivity… well, he might’ve overreacted. 

Was it really necessary to levitate a rope and a paddle and attack the guy with them? Probably not. But what other choice did Chuuya have? Dazai wasn’t there, so Chuuya couldn’t just touch him. 

“Hah! Nice try, but I’ve been working on my rope and paddle dodging skills!” The ability user shouted, jumping around frantically. 

“Are you fucking kidding me?” Chuuya muttered. “What kind of guy practices rope and paddle dodging?”

“Apparently him,” Akutagawa said dryly, his face serious as he surveyed the situation. 

“I appreciate you coming, Ryuu, but I can handle this shitwad myself,” Chuuya replied. 

Akutagawa frowned. “But the boss told me to come.”

“Yeah, and now I’m telling you that you should just go rest, or something.”

“But you haven’t actually captured him yet,” Akutagawa remarked.

“Yes, I see that,” Chuuya said, kind of annoyed. 

Akutagawa lurched forward without any warning, Rashoumon reaching out to turn the ability user into nothing but a splatter on the ground. 

“Wait—” Chuuya groaned and jumped in front of Rashoumon, creating a giant crater in his wake. “Don’t touch him—!”

“Gotcha!” 

Chuuya felt a pair of extremely sweaty hands wrap around his neck. He could only get out two words before a vortex swallowed him whole: “Get Dazai.”

The next thing he knew, he was smack in the middle of the boss’s office, kneeling next to Dazai. Chuuya’s head snapped towards Dazai. He looked about five years younger. Eighteen years old. 

Fuck me.

Younger-Dazai (Chuuya couldn’t really tell if he was better or not, yet) gaped, his eyes wide. 

“That hasn’t happened before,” Mori, with a slightly less receded hairline and slightly less wrinkles, observed. 

It has, Chuuya thought, but didn’t say. 

“Hello, boss,” Chuuya said in greeting. “How are you today?” 

“Interested,” was all he got in reply.

“That doesn’t make sense,” Younger-Dazai butted in. 

“How so?” Mori asked, as if actually interested. Chuuya suppressed a scoff.

“I thought the boss of the Port Mafia knew basic grammar, but I guess not,” Younger-Dazai replied snidely.

Chuuya clenched his jaw to fight back a laugh. He’d almost forgotten how funny Dazai could be when he wasn’t whining. 

Mori shook his head, smiling. Younger-Dazai made a disgusted face, and a small huff of amusement escaped Chuuya’s mouth. Immediately, Younger-Dazai turned to face him, a bright sort of excitement in his eyes. 

“I suppose you’re from the future, Chuuya-kun?” Mori asked. 

“Yes, boss,” Chuuya answered. Dazai rolled his eyes. “What day is it today?”

Mori rubbed his chin and checked his phone to tell him the date. “So, how far?” 

“Five years,” Chuuya replied. 

Mori leaned in, curiosity leaking into his normally perfect mask. “Then I must ask about the mafia’s future.”

Chuuya managed a smile. “I don’t think my boss would want me to share that information.”

Not true. Mori would benefit greatly from knowing Dazai was probably a month or so away from leaving, but Chuuya wasn’t about to tell him that. 

Mori raised an eyebrow, humming in thought. Younger-Dazai groaned loudly. “There’s no point in questioning Chuuya about the mafia’s future. I doubt he knows anything, anyway. He likely zones out during every meeting.”

The boss was still eyeing Chuuya, but finally, he nodded. “I suppose you’re right, Dazai-kun. How long do you think you’ll be stuck here, Chuuya-kun?”

“One day.” Chuuya winced at the confidence in his own voice. “Probably…”

“Ah…” Mori narrowed his eyes. “Alright. I trust you to handle yourself, then. Dazai-kun, a word alone?”

Younger-Dazai glanced at Chuuya quickly and nodded stiffly. Taking that as his cue, Chuuya backed out of the boss’s office. 

Chuuya hadn’t felt such distrust from the boss since five years ago, when Dazai left the mafia. No matter how many mind games they’ve played, Mori had always entrusted the mafia’s future to Dazai, right up until the very end. 

A few minutes later, Younger-Dazai came out of the office, a stormy expression on his face. His eyes darted around, as if calculating the best ways to run away.

“Everything good?” Chuuya asked, like he used to, when Double Black was still thriving.

Dazai shrugged. “As much as it can be.”

Chuuya grinned, unable to stop himself from ruffling Dazai’s hair. 

“Hey! I’m not a kid this time.” Younger-Dazai ducked away.

Chuuya started to laugh, but something about Younger-Dazai’s words made him pause. “This time? You remember the last time? Dazai remembers the last time?” He blinked. 

What the fuck. 

“That bastard,” he swore to himself. “That bastard knew exactly what happened and he still pretended to be an absolute idiot—!”

Younger-Dazai huffed out a laugh. “Hah. Good to know I ruined that man-child’s act.”

“You are better-Dazai, after all.” Chuuya smiled widely, wrapping an arm around Dazai’s shoulders. He was just as cute as last time, even if he was a little taller and a little more mature. “You know what, I actually like this situation.”

The tips of Still-Better-Dazai’s ears flushed. He opened his mouth, as if to retort, but closed it after a moment. “I’m…” he looked away from Chuuya. “By the time I got there, there wasn’t anything I could do. For them.”

A sudden urge to squeeze the kid in front of him—until all the burdens he held on his shoulder trickled away—washed over Chuuya. “It’s not your fault. It was inevitable.”

“And my… farewell to the mafia… When—I mean, I haven’t left yet because,” Dazai exhaled through his mouth in a controlled breath, “I can’t leave. You said it was better for me, but my friends are here. And you. Younger-you—he’s here too. I can’t leave unless they all come with me.”

Oh. 

Goosebumps rose all over Chuuya’s arms. “Dazai, don’t worry about me, of all people.” He couldn’t help but chuckle. “Hell, I didn’t even know you could worry about me. The time will come. And when it does, don’t look back to search for me . I’ll be fine. And we reunite many, many—almost too many—times in the future.”

Doubt clouded Dazai’s normally sharp and calm expression. 

“Trust me,” Chuuya said confidently. “I’d never lead you wrong, right?”

“I suppose not. Chuuya is an awfully loyal dog after all…” Dazai mumbled under his breath. 

“Hey, where’s my respect, hm? Last time, you were so polite!” Chuuya teased.

Younger-Dazai’s eyes widened by a smidge and his mouth parted slightly. A rush of satisfaction ran through Chuuya. He wasn’t happy to see Younger-Dazai embarrassed. It just gave him a little more to live for, that’s all. (Although, his Dazai’s embarrassment was far more fulfilling, though it rarely happened.)

“Do we have any missions today?” Chuuya asked. 

“Uh… No,” Dazai said, shaking his head a little. “But it’s probably a bad idea for you to visit anyone. It’d be a tiring amount of explaining.”

“I’ll just stick with you,” Chuuya offered, another wave of satisfaction washing over him when Dazai fidgeted. 

“Fine, fine. I guess.” He pouted. “I’ll only be seeing three people today, anyway.”

“Oh?” Chuuya tapped his chin. “Your friends? And… Ryuu?”

Younger-Dazai’s gaze darkened. “Ryuu?”

“The boy, Akutagawa,” Chuuya corrected himself. 

He nodded in response, taking on a broody-teenager posture. “The boy. Yeah. Sure. I’m supposed to train him, or whatever.”

Chuuya frowned, growing annoyed. Sure, an 18-year-old Dazai meant that he didn’t act like a man-child every single day, but it also meant that Dazai was at his cruelest period of his life. This Dazai wouldn’t hesitate to kill a child if it meant gaining a piece of vital information. 

“Let’s go?” Chuuya prompted, his hand lingering near Younger-Dazai’s shoulder. 

“Yeah.” 

Akutagawa was a baby. Chuuya hadn’t realized it the first time around, but Akutagawa was really, really young. And desperate. He snapped to alert immediately when Dazai walked in. Confusion filled his face, which was thin from malnourishment but still filled out with leftover baby fat. Either way, he was really cute. 

Chuuya had to resist hugging him and twirling the boy around. He wasn’t sure if Baby-Akutagawa could handle any hugging. 

“Who’s that?” Akutagawa asked quietly, though his eyes were bright with suspicion. 

About a month before Dazai’s departure, so I’ve met Ryuu a couple of times already, Chuuya thought to himself. 

“Dontcha remember me? I’m a little taller and about five years older than usual,” Chuuya teased gently. 

“Chuuya-san?” Baby-Akutagawa guessed hesitantly. Chuuya nodded. 

Dazai scoffed and clapped slowly. “Congratulations. You figured out the hardest riddle yet! I suppose we should all give you a standing ovation, but there’s no time for that.” 

Akutagawa shrunk back, his expectant and hopeful expression falling. Chuuya couldn’t help but grimace. It was likely that most of the damage Dazai had done to Akutagawa had already been done. Chuuya couldn’t reverse any of that pain for the boy, but maybe, just for the last month… 

“Hey,” Chuuya began, stepping between Akutagawa and Dazai, but what he wanted to say died in his throat. 

What if this ultimately convinced Dazai to stay in the Port Mafia? Dazai would remember all of his words from today, after all. What if Chuuya was taking away from Dazai’s eventual development into a kinder, better man? But what else could he say that would save Akutagawa, just a little while? 

“What?” Dazai asked, the darkness in his eyes melting slightly when he stared into Chuuya’s eyes.

Chuuya tried his best to school his face. “Stop, this isn’t you!” He cried out in a high pitched voice, reaching his arm out and shoving a hand in Dazai’s face. Like an idiot. 

Silence. 

The tension in the room was so tangible, Chuuya could practically taste it. 

Then—

Dazai cracked a smile. “What the fuck?” 

Laughter bubbled out of his mouth, slowly turning into wheezing and guffawing. Chuuya allowed himself a small sigh of relief—he hadn’t been sure his joke would land with an 18-year-old Dazai—and joined in laughing. Akutagawa stared at them with his big doe eyes, light penetrating through the storm on his face. 

“There,” Chuuya announced, after he caught his breath, “stop being such an emo teenager. Give the kid a break today, huh? Let’s go get a drink or something.”

Akutagawa’s eyes were still shining. He’s never seen Dazai laugh, Chuuya realized. He probably doesn’t even think Dazai’s human. 

“Fine, I guess,” Dazai agreed after a moment’s hesitation. 

“But…” Baby-Akutagawa frowned. “What do I do?”

Dazai opened his mouth, no doubt to say something unnecessarily snappish, but Chuuya stopped him. 

“Enjoy the day with your sister,” Chuuya suggested. “Let’s go, Littlezai.”

“ Littlezai? ” Younger-Dazai scoffed. “I’m literally taller than you, right now.”

“Still five years younger.” Chuuya smirked smugly. “It’s a justifiable nickname!”

“Chuuya never changes. Always so bad at naming things,” Dazai huffed. 

“Watch it,” Chuuya warned. “Little me could kick your ass easily. Imagine what I could do to you now.”

Dazai bristled and pouted immaturely. “Whatever!” He declared. “Let’s go find Ango or something.”

Ango… Chuuya wiped his face bare of any distaste. He knew Ango had betrayed the mafia for his reasons, but that didn’t mean Chuuya had to like him. The best Chuuya could do was remain indifferent towards him. There was no way he was ever gonna be buddy-buddy with Ango , but he had his respectable moments. Very few moments, sure, but they existed. 

“You’ve met him before,” Dazai continued. “Is he still super uptight five years later?”

“Plenty,” Chuuya answered as they walked away from a stunned Baby-Akutagawa. “Asshole doesn’t know when to take a break.”

“Seems like you’re talking about yourself, Chuuya.”

“Y’know, maybe you should put some respect on my name! Chuuya- san , perhaps.” 

“Ew.” Dazai made a face. “Your super-little-self is in the future, right?” 

“Probably, yeah.”

“I hope he’s having a horrible time.” Dazai hummed. “I also hope my older self is having a horrible time.”

Chuuya coughed to cover up his laugh. “Unfortunately, I have no doubt that the mackerel is having the time of his life right now.”

“Chuuya better not like that man-child more than me!” Dazai announced loudly. 

“He won’t,” Chuuya assured, unable to resist a fond smile at the thought. 

“Don’t tell me you like myself in the future.” 

“I don’t.”

“Uh huh. You’re still too easy to read, Chuuya -san .” 

“Well, excuse me for not having control over every single muscle of my body,” Chuuya scoffed. “Don’t be such a brat.” 

They approached an office that Chuuya remembered belonged to Ango. Dazai nodded and called, “Ango!”

A moment later, the door opened to reveal a younger, less tired, and more conniving Ango. He still looked annoying, in Chuuya’s opinion. 

“Da—” He began, cutting himself off as soon as his eyes laid on Chuuya. His jaw dropped open. 

Ango openly scanned Chuuya up and down as he gaped. Dazai raised his eyebrows and Chuuya sighed. 

“Who… I mean… what—?” Ango sputtered. 

“Hello Ango,” Chuuya greeted, fighting down animosity in his voice. 

“Hi…” Ango squeaked. Chuuya could nearly see the calculations flying through his head. 

“This is Chuuya from five years in the future. He’s gonna drink with us today,” Dazai explained, walking into Ango’s office without another word.

“Right…” Ango’s eyes widened slightly, no doubt understanding that Chuuya already knew of his eventual betrayal. 

“Nice office,” Chuuya complimented without much warmth, before walking in as well.

“Thank you,” Ango murmured, closing the door behind them.

“Is Odasaku out on a mission?” Dazai asked loudly. 

“No, actually, he’s just at the orphanage,” Ango answered quietly, still staring at Chuuya. 

Orphanage? 

Truthfully, Chuuya didn’t know much about Oda. Dazai had told him about the reason why he left shortly after they reconciled, but he didn’t describe Oda in much detail. Back then, Chuuya hadn’t bothered getting along with Dazai’s friends. He’d been stupid and young. Maybe a little jealous. 

Dazai jutted out his lower lip. “When’s he gonna come back?!”

Ango shrugged. “In time to join us for a drink, I’m guessing?” 

“Boring!” Dazai laid on Ango’s desk, spreading out his limbs and knocking off several of Ango’s document piles. Chuuya snickered and Ango pursed his lips. 

“Let’s visit him at the orphanage, then.” Chuuya punched Younger-Dazai’s arm lightly. 

“Ugh, Chuuya likes kids too? Ew!” Dazai sang. “I’m totally using that to tease my Chuuya later.”

“Oh, yours? Really?” Chuuya asked coyly. 

Dazai fell silent for a second. “Yep! Mine. My doggy, obviously.”

Chuuya shook his head, unable to work up enough of his anger to slap him, or something. “Let’s go, then.”

“Join us later, Ango!” Dazai called as he left, swiping a random trinket from Ango’s bookshelf. Ango just waved goodbye pathetically. 

“Later.” Chuuya waved a hand back.

“Wait—” Ango whispered, grabbing Chuuya’s shoulder. “About the future—”

“Calm down, doc glasses. My lips are sealed, yeah?”

“Thanks,” Ango said gratefully.

“In no way am I doing this for you. But you’re welcome.” 

With that, Chuuya left.

Chapter Text

Dazai wasn’t sure what he thought of Older-Chuuya anymore. Two years ago, he had been star struck. His obsession of Chuuya bloomed into something closer to actual admiration and yearning, much to his despair. But seeing the same Chuuya again two years later (well, Chuuya was a year older, but he was pretty much the same), Chuuya seemed so much more… reachable. Still not exactly within his grasp, but almost. 

He wanted to trust Chuuya’s preaching and all that shit about his departure from the mafia being good for him, but he couldn’t. Not unless the impossible were to happen, like Odasaku or Chuuya died (which, clearly, he hasn’t). But Dazai would never allow that to happen. Never. 

Older-Chuuya was just as jaw-droppingly gorgeous as last time, which honestly made Dazai a little annoyed. He’d thought maybe he’d grown out of his illogical puppy crush on Chuuya, but surprise surprise! 

He hadn’t. 

Older-Chuuya wasn’t talking much as they walked towards Odasaku’s little orphanage. Maybe he wasn’t that fond of children after all. 

When they finally arrived, Odasaku was outside playing with some of his kids. They were laughing brightly, and Dazai’s heart ached. 

“Odasaku!” He yelled, running towards Oda and jumping without care. Odasaku’s eyes didn’t even widen as he caught Dazai like he was a stray cat. 

“Hey Dazai,” Odasaku greeted kindly. “What are you doing here? And what is…” He stared at Chuuya. 

“Chuuya from five years in the future,” Dazai introduced shortly. 

Older-Chuuya gave Odasaku a tentative smile. Why does he seem so uncomfortable? Future-me would’ve introduced the two, eventually. Do they not get along? Conflict?

He frowned.

But Odasaku doesn’t start any conflicts on his own, and Chuuya only ever gets in fights to protect his friends. 

He was missing something, and Dazai didn’t like it.

“Nice to meet you. Not officially, though, I suppose.” Odasaku smiled back, his expression a lot more genuine than Chuuya’s. 

“No, I suppose not. Cute kids. Mind introducing them to me?” 

Odasaku led Chuuya towards where most of the orphans were sitting. They seemed to be playing a game together. Older-Chuuya’s strained smile eventually gave in to a natural one as soon as the kids began warming up to him. He still seemed tense, though, as if he knew a secret about each of the kids and it was eating him alive. 

“That’s your partner, hm?” Odasaku patted Dazai’s head. “He grows up to be very mature.”

“I wouldn’t say that,” Dazai replied, raising his voice. “Chuuya’s super childish.”

“Hey! Watch your mouth, brat!” 

It seemed Chuuya was a lot more willing to scold and insult him this time, as well, though maybe that’s just because Dazai grew more daring. His younger-self had wanted to impress Older-Chuuya a little too much, so he’d kept his mouth shut most of the time. 

“You’re just as childish, are you not?” Odasaku asked innocently. 

“Hah!” Chuuya barked out a laugh. 

“My childish tendencies are cute!” Dazai protested. “On him, they’re just weird.”

“Don’t forget who you grow into, brat…” Chuuya trailed off as his phone rang. He glanced at the caller ID and groaned. “Speak of the devil…” He picked up. “Hey, mackerel. Apprehended the ability user yet?” 

His older self was on the phone. 

Yuck.

“Uh, I’m with your younger self and Oda, right now,” Chuuya said, his voice hesitant. After a moment, Chuuya put the call on speaker. “You’re on.”

“Odasaku!” Dazai’s older self sang in a terribly high-pitched voice. “Are you there?”

“Is that Dazai from the future?” Odasaku asked, walking closer to Chuuya. 

“Wowee! Odasaku! Yes, it’s me! Your favorite person,” Dazai’s older self (Oldzai, he decided) shrieked happily, laughing. A small smile spread across Odasaku’s face, serving to annoy Dazai even more. 

“Why don’t you pipe down?! Some of us still want our eardrums,” Dazai hissed into the phone. 

“Who the fuck is that? Chuuya! Don’t hand your phone off to pissy teenagers!” Oldzai whined. 

“Your voice is so grating—!”

“That’s your voice, Littlezai,” Chuuya sniggered.

“I refuse,” Dazai replied flippantly, just as Oldzai cried, 

“ Littlezai?! Chuuya. I was so much taller than you, even as a seven-year-old!” 

“He’s fuckin’ eighteen, you walking waste of bandages.” Chuuya rolled his eyes. Dazai couldn’t help but feel immensely grateful.

“Hey! Who’s on the phone?” Someone irritatingly familiar shouted. 

“It’s just me from the past and you from right now, Baby Chuu Chuu Train!” Oldzai’s voice crackled over the phone. 

“Don’t call me that!” Both Chuuya’s hissed. 

“Kinda cool, though! Hi, future me!” Dazai’s Chuuya said cheerfully. “Are we still awesome?”

“Whaddya think?” Older-Chuuya grinned.

“Fuck yeah!” Dazai’s Chuuya whooped. “Still kickin’ Dazai’s ass?” 

“Naturally,” Older-Chuuya replied.

“I kick Chuuya’s ass at arcade games,” Dazai grumbled under his breath. 

“Shut up, you’re not interesting. Where’s Odasaku?” Oldzai demanded impatiently. 

“Why are you so needy?! Go find Odasaku in the future and leave my Odasaku alone!” Dazai snapped.

“But I wanna talk to mini-Odasaku!” Dazai was sure his older self meant for the sentence to come off as whiny and childish, but his volume dropped by just a smidge towards the end. 

Dazai knew his own tells too well. 

He took a long glance at Older-Chuuya, who was tugging on a strand of his hair, his entire body tense and alert. Dazai’s mind started to race. His thoughts, which originally ran with a sneaking suspicion, now actively sought to confirm a theory he didn’t even want to acknowledge.  

My older self is lying about something. There’s no way he doesn’t want to talk to Odasaku, so there must be something else he’s lying about. The phrasing he used—what could have changed…? 

Mini-Odasaku, he said. Mini? Was he lying about the mini part? Does that mean that Odasaku doesn’t grow—or rather, age—into the future? Chuuya said I’d leave the mafia for a friend who changed me. I left the mafia for Odasaku, then. I left the mafia because—

“Chuuya. Where is Odasaku in the future?” Dazai asked directly into the phone before anyone could stop him.

His Chuuya went dead silent. 

His Chuuya couldn’t lie for the life of him. 

More importantly, his Chuuya wouldn’t lie about this . 

“Sorry,” Chuuya mumbled from the other end of the call. He must’ve been talking to Dazai’s older self, Dazai concluded. Then, in a clearer voice, his partner said, “He’s not here.”

Which could mean a lot of things. But in this context, there was only one rational conclusion. 

Dazai’s entire world crumbled around him. 

Logically, it shouldn’t. Dazai had long since torn away every ounce of his ability to feel, and yet, somehow, his heart broke. Odasaku wasn’t supposed to die. He isn’t meant to die. If anyone should die, it should be Dazai. He was corrupted and cynical—far too apathetic to do the same kind of good that Odasaku managed to do. 

“—zai. Dazai, look at me.” 

Older-Chuuya shook him again, forcing their eyes to meet. He’d known the entire time. And there was also no way he didn’t know that Dazai would’ve sacrificed anything to prevent Odasaku’s death. And yet he’d said nothing the first time, and he’d likely say nothing this time as well. 

“How–” Dazai started to say, but fell silent when he realized actual emotion was leaking into his voice. 

“I can’t tell you,” Chuuya whispered softly. “Sorry, kid.”

“Figures,” he spat. “You wouldn’t even save your own friends; who’d think you’d save mine?”

“Shut your mouth about things you don’t understand,” Dazai’s older self cut in harshly. 

“Why? I could save him–I can save Odasaku from dying and, of all people, my future self stopping me from saving him?! He’s my friend! He’s your friend, and you’re just gonna abandon his life like it means nothing?!” Dazai yelled into the phone.

“Dazai,” Odasaku interrupted, placing a comforting hand on his shoulder. “It’s alright.”

“No, it’s not,” Dazai replied, far more viciously than he intended, “you’re going to die, and neither me nor Chuuya from the future will tell me how to save you. How can anything be alright?”

Odasaku’s lips curved up in a small, resigned smile. “There must be a reason for that, Dazai. Your future sounds pretty great to me.”

“How would you know?” Dazai demanded, even though he wanted to tell Odasaku that he didn’t care about his future. Not when Odasaku didn’t have one.

“C’mon, surely you noticed it too. Your little laugh– it sounds so genuine, doesn’t it? I’m sure whatever future you’ve crafted yourself is a great one,” Odasaku comforted him. 

“He’s right,” Older-Chuuya agreed. “You wouldn’t believe how stupid your future friends are, but they’re fun. Your future home is fun and warm and nice, just like this place.” He gestured to the children, who were still playing. “Your family’s pretty cool too, though I don’t love the weretiger.”

A weak–almost wet–laugh sounded from the phone. “You’re just protective over Akutagawa,” Dazai’s future self chuckled. 

“See? You don’t need me; you have new people–and old friends,” Odasaku nodded towards Chuuya, “who are by your side. Whatever your future turns out to be, I’m proud of you. Don’t blame them . They know you the best. My death is inevitable anyway, Dazai. When the time comes, let me die without another worry in your mind. Just protect the kids, okay?”

But I don’t want a new family or new friends. I want to stay with you , Dazai desperately wanted to say. 

Older-Chuuya squeezed his arm gently. “If you don’t trust me and my Dazai, ask your Chuuya. He wouldn’t lie to you, would he?”

Dazai almost wanted to laugh at that, but he turned to the phone anyway. “So? How about my amazing future, slug?” Dazai asked flatly. 

His Chuuya hummed thoughtfully, though Dazai was sure he had an answer already. “As far as futures go… I hate to say it, but you got it pretty good, mackerel.” Dazai scoffed, but Chuuya continued. “You’re living in—I guess you could call it ‘the light.’ Sorta the place Detective Murase wanted to bring me to. It’s nice here, Dazai.”

With one last desperate attempt at denying reality as it was, Dazai rasped out, “Then why don’t— didn’t— you come with me?”

Silence, save for the quiet sounds of giggling in the background. Older-Chuuya stared at him, his eyes wide with unidentifiable emotions. 

“Are you serious?” His Chuuya snorted. “Even I know why you can’t do that. Did all this time travel nonsense mess with your brain? I have friends here. I can’t leave ane-san. Plus, what would the boss do? You got off scotch-free as far as I can tell, but… Mori has stuff on me. They still keep tabs on the sheep– you know that. Plus, from what I see here in the future, it doesn’t seem like we’re gonna get rid of each other that easily, anyway. Go fulfill your destiny, or whatever bullshit they say in Hollywood.”

Oldzai laughed in the background, and Dazai could distinctly hear the fondness and pure delight in his voice. “Jeez, Baby Chuu Chuu Train, when did you get so smart and mature?” 

“Since always,” Dazai’s Chuuya shot back. “And I’m right, right?”

“Of course you’re right,” Older-Chuuya said. “ I’m right. ‘Cause I’m always right.”

“Ugh, how did this inflate hatrack’s ego?!” Oldzai complained.

Dazai just… stood there, listening to his future self tease both Chuuya’s as if he was actually happy. He glanced at Odasaku, who was openly beaming. “You left the mafia.” Odasaku chuckled. “You left the mafia. Isn’t that amazing?”

“It is! I’m amazing! Say it again, Odasaku!” Oldzai trilled excitedly. 

“You’re really amazing, Dazai.” Odasaku couldn’t keep his laugh in. “What are you doing now?”

“Not sure I can say that in front of Littlezai,” Oldzai sighed loudly. “But I helped new orphans!”

Odasaku’s smile grew, if that was even possible. “I’m so proud of you, Dazai.”

Dazai’s future self whispered, “Thanks, Odasaku,” and went silent. 

Older-Chuuya turned off the speaker and murmured into the phone, “Hey, you okay? Mhm… ‘kay. I’ll give the phone to him?” He nodded, even though nodding during phone calls was pointless. “Yeah. I’ll keep him busy.” He let out a small laugh. “You owe me a drink.” He covered his mouth and whispered something else into the phone. Then, Older-Chuuya stepped towards Odasaku and handed the phone to him. “He still wants to talk to you, but we can’t let Littlezai listen.”

Odasaku gave Older-Chuuya a thankful pat on the shoulder. “Thanks, Chuuya. I’m glad Dazai has such a good friend like you.”

Older-Chuuya snickered, for some unknown reason, and nudged Dazai into the building. “Let’s sit.”

“And talk? I thought you were just gonna leave me completely in the dark. That’s what my future self wants, isn’t it?” Dazai huffed.

“Don’t be so moody, Littlezai. You were such an angel last time.” Older-Chuuya leaned forward and smiled, almost lovingly. “Y’know, you’ve always preached about how human I am and whatnot, but you’re always making dumb remarks about your own heart. Odasaku made you feel human, right? And now you’re afraid you’ll have no reason to live again.”

Dazai pressed his lips together tightly and tried to look anywhere but Chuuya’s piercing eyes. 

“I know nothing I say will convince you to leave his death alone, because you’d need tangible proof to actually listen to my words.” Older-Chuuya grinned. “But thankfully, I have this.” 

He pulled out a tiny photo with worn edges and triumphantly handed it to Dazai. Dazai could clearly make out himself and several other people, whose faces were blurred. He was smiling. Really smiling. Dazai could tell, because he’d only seen that smile on his face thrice before. Twice when he caught himself in the mirror with Chuuya, and once through the reflection of Odasaku’s glass at Lupin. 

“I took that picture when we were still on… non-speaking terms. Used to keep it to motivate myself–to work more and whatnot. Now, I just keep it for sentimentality. You are human, Dazai. That reaction you had out there proves it. This picture proves it. You won’t lose your humanity when Oda dies. In fact, I’d argue it’s because of his death that you have so many reasons to live today. And if there was anything your Odasaku lived for, it was to help children. Like you. Let him guide you, even if it’s in the way you hate the most.” He brushed his thumb over Dazai’s hand. “You can keep it, if you want. Just don’t look too deeply into their identities, ‘kay? Let everything happen the way it should. You’ll know them when you see them. I promise.”

And then, Chuuya left to join the children outside, allowing Dazai to wallow in his thoughts, weighing Odasaku’s life against a future that everyone seemed to love. 

Chapter Text

Truthfully, Chuuya was spent. Littlezai (yes, that was his official name now) was still lost in his own mind while they went out for a drink at Lupin. Chuuya actually had fun talking to Oda, and Ango wasn’t too bad of a conversationalist himself, especially when he was trying so hard to get on Chuuya’s good side. 

“So, Chuuya–uh, Chuuya-kun…?” Ango stumbled over his own words, smiling nervously as he adjusted his glasses. He asked about some mundane topics, never allowing Chuuya a single moment to say anything that wasn’t an answer to his questions. It was kind of annoying, since Chuuya had already assured the guy that he wouldn’t spill his little spy secret, but it was also pretty funny, so Chuuya let him be. Odasaku had been keeping an eye on Littlezai while effortlessly adding to the conversation (that Ango was wholly carrying). 

The night dawned on them sooner than Chuuya expected, though he supposed that was for the best. He still wasn’t sure whether Littlezai fully digested his words or not. Chuuya just hoped he wouldn’t have to go back to a world where Dazai was the Port Mafia boss, Akutagawa and the weretiger had switched organizations, and Oda was still alive, living in the agency. 

That would be weird. 

“I could just head to my room,” Chuuya suggested when Oda asked where he would spend the night. “I still remember where it is.”

Before they left the bar, however, Chuuya asked for a quick picture. He’d seen his Dazai’s version, but Chuuya thought that maybe he’d appreciate a picture where everyone was smiling (like they weren’t in the Port Mafia). 

“Everyone smile, even you, Littlezai,” Chuuya ordered. 

Oda and Ango both smiled, raising their glasses for the picture. Littlezai twisted his lips into an unhappy scowl, but eventually put on the fakest smile Chuuya had ever seen. The bartender snapped a picture for them, which Chuuya forced Oda to sign. Ango signed it too, which Chuuya was… not unhappy about. 

“You could still give me blackmail on your future self?” Chuuya suggested, lifting the picture towards Littlezai. He thought about it for a moment. 

“Fine, I suppose Chuuya would need my help in making Oldzai suffer,” he snorted. 

“Oldzai?” Chuuya repeated, before bursting out in laughter. 

“Yeah,” Littlezai confirmed, a tiny grin on his face. “Fits, right?”

“It does.”

They went to bed separately, and in the morning, Chuuya made himself scarce. He only had a couple of hours until he had to go, and he preferred not to be around Littlezai, just in case he asked questions that Chuuya might accidentally give the answer to. He visited Baby-Akutagawa again, though, popping in to say a small hi. Baby-Gin was there too, and Chuuya couldn’t resist patting them both on their heads. He’d searched for his friends as well, especially Hirotsu and Tachihara, but he realized they were out on a mission (which was stupid). 

On his little escapade, Chuuya bumped into Kouyou, who all but freaked out when she saw Chuuya. In a good way, though. “Chuuya?! You–you look so nice! Oh, but who in the world cut your hair? Not important.” She shook her head in disbelief. “I feel so proud, like a mama bear, or something.”

“Thanks, ane-san. Or rather, Kouyou?” Chuuya grinned. 

“Now, now, Chuuya. I was still born before you, no matter what kind of time travel is involved. Therefore, I am always your ane-san, even if you’d visited as an eighty-year-old,” she chided.

“Yeah, yeah.” 

They had tea, which was probably the calmest part of Chuuya’s entire trip. He talked about several things, though he left out the part where he and Dazai were… a little more than just reinstated partners-in-crime. At this period in time, Kouyou would likely throw a tantrum if she knew Chuuya had “handed himself over” to the likes of Dazai.

About five minutes before Chuuya’s trip back to the present, Littlezai appeared, seemingly out of thin air. Chuuya braced himself a little, but asked, “What’s up?”

He stared straight through Chuuya’s eyes, as if searching deep into his soul. A minute passed. “I trust you,” was all he said. But it was plenty for Chuuya.

“Thank you,” he replied sincerely, his hands twitching. He hadn’t hugged Dazai yet, Chuuya realized. He opened his arms in invitation, and Dazai stepped towards him hesitantly. Without waiting a moment more, Chuuya wrapped his arms around his younger-partner and breathed, “You’re a good person, Dazai. Even if you don’t believe in such labels.”

Then, like a heavenly sandstorm, the time travel vortex swept Chuuya away from the past and back into the present. He landed in his bed, for some reason, and glanced around to gain his bearings. 

Dazai was also laying on his bed, his upper body nude except for his bandages. He was kicking his legs up and down, and a limp rose was in his mouth. Was he in some strange alternate universe that happened because of the butterfly effect, or…

“Okay, what the fuck?!” Chuuya shrieked. “What the fuck were you doing to my barely-legal self?!” 

“It’s a prank!” Dazai caved immediately. “I’m not that much of a bastard!” 

“Oh you little–” 

Dazai blinked. “Aw dang it. Now I feel bad for pranking you, after all those sappy words you said!”

Chuuya groaned loudly. He’d almost forgotten Dazai would remember everything. “Oh fuck me.”

“Only if you ask nicely.”

“Fuck you!”

“That works too!”