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It was the night after a long, grueling mission. The infamous pair of Double Black were exhausted, just happy to have had a place to go afterwards instead of having to find a spot to sleep in the woods. This was an overseas mission, and unfortunately, their infiltration plan had a minor mishap. They were forced to resort to brute force to get the information and items from enemy forces. It was tedious and almost irritated them as much as the other did, these certain soldiers seemed to have an unyielding loyalty to their cause despite Dazai’s torture methods.
Once they returned to the shabby hotel and up the concerning elevator, Chuuya made a b-line to the balcony with a cigarette in his hand, clearly unwilling to say a word to the brunette, vaguely stomping. Dazai heard Chuuya mutter something incoherent though starkly angry under his breath, opening and closing the sliding door sharply to the outside before Dazai could get a word in. It would just be stupid of him if he were to try and engage with Chuuya in this manner. He was quiet in the elevator ride too, eyebrows furrowed and his hands stuffed into his pockets to try keeping himself calm. Definitely angry about something. Instead of making the older even angrier, Dazai decided to attempt to rid his clothing of other people’s blood. It wouldn’t matter much, seeing as how they were black, but he’d prefer to avoid any questions should he meet an unlikely member of the law enforcement. Being arrested for such a simple thing after doing so much worse would just be a waste of talent.
When Dazai exited the bathroom, clothes somewhat less bloody and his hair admittedly less tangled, his eyes automatically located Chuuya through the glass sliding door. He could see the wind nudging at Chuuya’s tangled hair and loose bits of his clothes to sway just a little bit. Chuuya sat on the edge of the balcony, one leg dangled off the edge between two of the protective bars, and the other with his knee brought up to his chest. He had one arm loosely wrapped around his lifted leg, holding his hardly touched cigarette in the other. Dazai stood, staring at the ginger illuminated by the faint blue hue of the city lights from behind for a moment. He wondered absently if he was taking the cigarette slowly this time because it would give him less time to bark and complain about his troubles out loud, but he pushed the thought aside in favor of deciding if he should join Chuuya or take the bed for himself.
“Brooding doesn’t suit you, Chuuya.” Dazai had said, closing the balcony door with a dragging sound followed by a soft click. Putting on a gentle but teasing smile, Dazai sat down next to the distinctly unhappy redhead, crossing his legs and resting his head against his palm.
“Fuck off, Dazai.” Chuuya had demanded, choosing then to take a drawn out drag of his only slightly neglected cigarette, and Dazai hummed as the unpleasant smell of smoke filled his senses overtop of the already loud crowd of honking cars and trucks beneath the pair.
The brunette tore his eyes off of Chuuya, who hadn’t even glanced at him, to look down on the bustling city through the bars of the balcony railing. It was chilly and windy, not exactly Dazai’s cup of tea, but the way the moon’s light lands on the roofs of far away buildings and homes makes the view feel a bit homier. However, it seems Chuuya isn’t happy with the outcome of this mission, or maybe something else if the almost lost look in his carefully hardened face meant anything. An unhappy Chuuya only leads to bad things, Dazai confidently told himself, so he should do the honors of cheering him up. Team spirit, and all. He’s not the best at this kind of thing, but he knows Chuuya enough.
“Is Chuuya bitter that I outperformed him today?” Dazai tries, doing the one thing that is familiar for the both of them and attempting to make Chuuya feel at least a little better by starting lighthearted banter. He turns his head to look to Chuuya as he speaks, tuning out the blaring noises from the streets below.
Chuuya, who had been repeatedly tightening and then loosening his hold on his ankle in an attempt to hone in his annoyance, responds with less fire than usual. “You couldn’t if you tried.” Chuuya seemed more interested in people watching, still not having looked at Dazai since he joined the sitting-on-the-cold-balcony club. For a moment, Dazai only looked on at Chuuya’s face, which was furrowed into an unpleasant frown, as he was softly illuminated by the moon and more harshly glowing with the varying lights of the city below. Dazai gets an idea of where this negative mood may have come from.
“Then, maybe Chuuya’s still mad at that tree root he tripped over yesterday?” Dazai tried a second time, his smile turning more into a smug grin. He leaned forward and off his hand so he could tuck some of his own hair behind his ear, the wind was getting a bit unruly. He was hoping Chuuya would grasp that he’s trying to ask what’s bothering him so he didn’t have to actually say it.
Chuuya only sighs at Dazai’s insistence, releasing his ankle in favor of rubbing his temples. He closed his eyes for a moment before responding with a bit more flavor. “That fucking hurt. You try eating the ground.” Then, he’s silent for a long while. The wind whistles tunes in both their ears as the silence, accompanied by the ever raging angry drivers, wears on in the dark urban night. Chuuya gives Dazai a lingering glance, clearly having been contemplating whether or not to tell Dazai why he’s feeling down. They don’t do this sort of thing. They fight and they bicker and they jab at each other, but this? This is uncharted territory. Dazai wouldn’t blame Chuuya if he just dismissed his clear attempts at questioning, he might actually prefer that option.
“If we were more careful…” Chuuya starts, brows furrowed more prominently and his voice uncharacteristically soft as he hardly speaks over the cacophony underneath. “We wouldn’t have had to get that kid caught between it all.” This time, when he brought his hand back down to hold his ankle, he didn’t loosen his grip.
The smoke of Chuuya’s cigarette was disturbed by a harsh gust of wind, Dazai held his coat to keep it over his shoulders. The kid? Dazai glanced away as he thought, eventually landing on a memory. There was a kid in the crossfire, wasn’t there? One of their subordinates had been required to report their findings during the post-mission survivor search. She was old enough have been accepted into The Sheep. Is Chuuya still mourning his loss of The Sheep? Maybe he’d just prefer if no innocent kid had a premature death. He did always have a soft spot for brats who didn’t know any better. Although, it could be because he used to be one.
“Maybe.” Dazai finally answered, “But, there were unexpected liabilities. No one knew she was there.” He attempted to use logic to soothe Chuuya’s nerves. She was hiding behind a flimsy wooden box that was unluckily shot at. “It was likely she died painlessly.” Maybe if Chuuya knew this, it would calm him.
Chuuya hardly softened at this. He looked to Dazai for a moment, possibly trying to decide if it was a white lie to make him feel better if the lingering anger and disbelief on his face meant anything. Dazai didn’t waver, Chuuya sighed and looking back to the street below. He released his ankle, which was now red with the pressure he was applying, and let his leg dangle off the balcony along with his other. Dazai watched curiously as Chuuya took in another breath of his pungent cigarette, exhaling the smoke as he hunched forward with his head against the cold bar. It was clear Chuuya was not satisfied with Dazai’s answer.
Dazai wasn’t sure if Chuuya was mourning the girl, The Sheep, or something else entirely. But for once, he didn’t try to fill the silence with a jab or two. Dazai dissected Chuuya’s distinctively saddened posture, eventually turning to people watching as well. The first thing he noticed was that the unruly wind died down a bit. He wasn’t sure where to go from here, thinking on it as his eyes wondered from a group surrounding a fight on the street and two people on the sidelines sitting against a building and chatting. The cars had cleared slightly, offering a bit of a break from the angry drivers and a look into the softer shades of calm traffic and exhausted drivers going home from work.
It had to have been at least a couple minutes before either of them spoke again.
Chuuya gives his half finished cigarette a glance before shoving the nub into the balcony to put it out. “And.. you? Does this shit not bother you?” He sat up a bit straighter as he halfheartedly tossed the bud over the edge.
Dazai thought for a moment, before shrugging. “Not necessarily.” He was certainly not very fond of this fact about himself.
Chuuya was silent, and Dazai could feel his gaze lingering on him. Chuuya huffed in an almost bitter amusement. “Yeah, figured.” But this time, his voice wasn’t full of malice.
“Awe, that hurts my feelings, Chuuya.” Dazai finally brought his gaze over to Chuuya with a small and teasing smile plastered onto his face once more.
Chuuya couldn’t stifle a small laugh at that, “like hell it did, you bastard.”