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For as long as Chuuya had been in the Port Mafia, Dazai had been a constant in his life. It felt like everytime he breathed Dazai was there. It was strange to feel so completely intertwined with someone. Even when Dazai wasn’t directly next to him, it felt like he was.
He affected everything in Chuuya’s life.
The effectiveness of his missions, his paperwork. Even the fact that a few mugs in his apartment were just above his reach. There wasn’t something the man didn’t seem to get his grubby hands on. And… Chuuya didn’t put up too much of a fuss.
He let him even.
Let the man walk into his life and touch whatever he wants, whenever he wants.
In the beginning it was a foreign feeling. His heart was still raw from the loss of the Flags and scars of his past he hadn’t even known coming to the forefront. But now, years into their partnership; it feels as natural as breathing.
Dazai’s clothes in his closet, the extra towel hanging in the bathroom, the second gaming controller laying out. It was normal.
It was right.
…But Chuuya’s lived long enough to know this isn’t how it stays.
“It appears Dazai has defected,” Mori stated after Chuuya had finished reporting back from his mission.
“...excuse me?” Chuuya asked stiffly, face flat.
“Defected. Left the Port Mafia. You wouldn’t happen to know anything about that, would you?” Mori’s eyes drifted from the paperwork in his hands to Chuuya’s own eyes. The icy cold look in them spoke volumes about what would happen had Chuuya lied.
“No, Boss.”
Mori’s lips pressed into a line before forming into a smile. “Good. Now run along, Chuuya-kun. I’ve got other matters to attend to.”
Chuuya stiffly nodded, placing his hat on his head and turning on his heel out the door. The gentle click of the big maghony doors shutting echoed throughout the hallway.
Chuuya took a deep breath before letting his feet carry him.
It was said so flatly. So matter of factly. ‘Dazai defected.’
Like it wasn’t anything.
Going to Dazai’s ‘apartment’ turned out to be a fruitless endeavor, not surprising Chuuya in the slightest, the man was rarely there anyways. The only thing missing was a few rolls of bandages and his phone, but Dazai didn’t go anywhere without them.
Chuuya checked Lupin next, not running into Dazai or any of his friends.
The bridge? Nothing. Bars? Clubs? Nope. Everywhere Chuuya checked with no sign of Dazai made his chest clench more.
It felt like he ran around the entire city looking for Dazai by the time he went back to his apartment. He didn’t know what he was searching for, maybe a sign he was still around, a sign that he still love-
He shook his head and sat back on the couch, blankly staring at Dazai’s console lying where he’d left it a week ago.
It was… quiet. The apartment was silent for the first time in a while and it felt… wrong.
He knew he should be happy. Dazai, the same man he couldn’t stand to be in the same room as without screaming his head off, was gone. And Chuuya felt… Chuuya felt…
…
What did he feel?
He knew what probably he should feel. Happy, angry, maybe even a little sad. But it was just… empty.
Chuuya sighed, removing his hat and placing it down on the couch next to him. Dazai just… left. Not that Chuuya honestly expected Dazai to ever tell him anything, much less something as big as this. But it still… stung.
“Whatever… hope he’s dead,” Chuuya muttered, standing and walking off to the kitchen to pour himself some wine.
A familiar feeling curled up in his chest. A feeling that grew larger by the day and got drowned in the pleasant buzz of alcohol when it got too much.
Loss.
Eventually days went by, then months; then eventually two years passed.
They felt long to say the least, even if Chuuya regretted admitting it. The explosion of his car and a few fraudulent charges on his credit card were the only confirmations Chuuya got over the past 2 years of Dazai being alive.
It had his grubby hands written all over it. And the man not doing anything to cover his tracks let Chuuya know that Dazai wanted him to see.
Chuuya never informed anyone of these signs, not even when Mori directly asked Chuuya about any signs of Dazai’s whereabouts.
It was a rainy day when he saw him again.
He had been going out to get dinner when he heard it. A laugh.
Chuuya gripped his bag tighter when he felt his grip losen. He leans over a bit, peering into the next aisle.
It’s him.
He looked quite different, to say the least. The tan coat hanging off his shoulders and how cleaned up he was were the first things Chuuya noticed, making him look almost unrecognizable. But that signature smirk was more than enough to confirm it was him.
He was standing with a long, blond haired man who seemed to be arguing with him about something. “Half of these things aren’t on the agency’s list, Dazai,” The blond haired man said, poking a green notebook into Dazai’s chest.
Dazai simply smirked, pushing the notebook away. “Now, Partner… Ranpo specifically said these things when I talked to him before we left.”
Chuuya tuned out the conversation after that, staring at Dazai. The man, like he did even when he was younger, noticed the eyes on him and looked over slightly; eyes catching with Chuuya’s. They both paused a moment before Chuuya adjusted his hat to cover his eyes and walked off.
—
Dazai wasn’t an idiot. He knew as soon as he was being watched, deciding to let the person think they were hiding before glancing over once Kunikida had looked away.
Locking eyes with icy blue ones made him pause looking over the spy more thoroughly.
It had to be him.
The atrocious outfit, the icy blue eyes, and the ginger curls spilling over the person’s shoulder all pointed to one man.
Chuuya adjusted his hat, covering his eyes before disappearing down the opposite aisle. Dazai stared for a moment, Kunikida’s words going in one ear and out the other.
Dazai turned and gently pats Kunikida’s shoulder. “Well if you want to infer Ranpo-san’s wrath then be my guest!” He then smiled and disappeared down the aisle Chuuya had gone down.
He followed a few steps behind the small mafioso as he paid and quickly left the store. Chuuya continued to walk a little ways away before ducking into a side street.
—
Chuuya knew he was being followed.
Knew as soon as he saw his old bastard of a partner that the man would follow him.
The ginger paused in the middle of the dark street before speaking, “What do you want, traitor?” The words spilled out of him like venom, even as he felt a familiar twisting in his chest.
“Now, now Partner… is that anyway to greet an old friend?” Dazai asked, a smug look plastered on his ugly mug.
“I’d hardly call you a friend,” Chuuya growled out. He turned to face Dazai, eyes looking over the taller man’s form before darting back to his eyes. “Leave, Dazai. Since you love doing it so much,” Chuuya added the last sentence in a bitter tone, practically spitting at the man.
Dazai’s features softened a bit; something that just highlighted how long the two men had been apart, “You know I had a good reason… don’t you?”
Chuuya just huffed.
Silence settled between the two of them before Dazai spoke again, “I didn’t want to leave you.”
Chuuya scoffed, rolling his eyes. “Cause you made that so obvious.”
Dazai sighs, walking up to Chuuya.
‘The audacity-!’ Chuuya thought before he whipped around, fist already mid swing.
Dazai side stepped and grabbed Chuuya’s wrist. “Swinging already? Still the same rabid doggy from before~”
Chuuya growled, pure rage crossing his features, swinging out again as the coil in his chest bursted at the seams. “You bastard! Thinking you have any right to speak to me after deflecting! I’ll make you regret ever having left!” Chuuya screamed between swings, feeling his throat going raw from the pure rage.
They played a familiar song and dance for a while, Chuuya swinging with Dazai expertly dodging every move. Chuuya eventually made contact with Dazai’s chest, flinging the man into the opposing wall. The taller let out a soft groan at the impact, slumping down a bit. “Ah… Still a brute…”
Chuuya took a deep breath before walking over. “I should kill you right now…” he growled, frame glowing with the power of ‘The Tainted Sorrow’ even knowing it would have no effect.
“But you won’t, will you Chuuya?” Dazai asked smugly, eyebrow raising.
Chuuya takes shaking breaths as he turns around. “Leave. I don’t want to see your face ever again.”
Dazai sighs and gets back up, a hand covering his chest. It sends another pang through Chuuya but he ignores it.
He walks closer before resting his chin on Chuuya’s shoulder. “I won’t say it, you know. I don’t regret it.”
Chuuya can perfectly read inbetween the lines for what Dazai meant.
I won’t apologize for what I did. I didn’t have a choice.
Chuuya was silent before simply shaking his head and turning on his heel. He picked up his bag and left the alley, already making his way to his apartment; and the comfort of alcohol that awaited him.
A soft click of a lock being unlatched echoed through the dark apartment as Dazai slipped inside. It’d only been two hours since Dazai encountered Chuuya again but the brown haired man couldn’t stay away for long.
The feeling of being around Chuuya was familiar to the feeling of an addiction.
A biting, snarling feeling that flared up again once being exposed again after being sober. Even a small taste had someone diving head first back in.
And Dazai wasn’t an exception.
He tsked as he entered, plugging his nose at the dreadful scent of wine. “Chibi, Chibi… What will you ever do with yourself?”
Chuuya lay with his cheek against the kitchen counter, eyes fluttering open and drifting up to meet Dazai’s.
He groans and turns his head against the counter. “I thought I… told you to…”
He pushes up onto his arms, water in his eyes from the alcohol, but trembles.
“To stay away? Yeah I heard you Slug,” Dazai said as he scooped up the glass from the counter and deposited it into the sink. “But you can’t honestly think I will.”
Chuuya weakly glares before reaching for the wine bottle, Dazai reprimanding him and taking it. “You’re a bastard… barely changed…”
Dazai ignores Chuuya as he puts away the bottle, but the ginger haired man doesn’t do the same.
“Think you can just- just waltz away from the Port…” Chuuya swallows as he continues. “And become some… goody two-shoes…”
Dazai stiffens and Chuuya smirks. “Yeah… I know that blondie you were with. Some dipshit from that ‘detective agency’.”
“Don’t call him that,” Dazai snaps out instinctively and turns back causing Chuuya to laugh darkly.
“Oh? Did that hurt your feelings? Maybe… step on your precious little ‘partner’?”
“Is that seriously what this is about, Chuuya?”
“You know damn well it’s more than that!” Chuuya yelled, slamming his hands down on the table and practically rumbling the whole apartment with his anger.
Silence settled over them again as they silently stared at each other.
Chuuya stands but wobbles and Dazai quickly takes Chuuya by the shoulders.
No words are said as Dazai drags Chuuya to the bathroom, holds his hair back, or even as Chuuya washes out his mouth after the fact.
Chuuya settles onto his bed as Dazai hands him a bottle of water. Chuuya lays down and stares at the ceiling when Dazai finally speaks, “I’m trying… to be a better man.”
Chuuya doesn’t respond, blinking up at the ceiling.
“...I’m not perfect. But… I promised I would.” Dazai sighs and settles down next to Chuuya.
“...then why follow me?” Chuuya whispers softly, “Why come back after I told you to stay away?”
Dazai bites his lip and turns his head to look down at the older man. “Because I can’t stay away any longer.”
Silence again. This time Chuuya breaks it. “What about our jobs?”
“We’ll make it work.”
Chuuya snorts and rolls his eyes, “Uh huh.”
“I’m serious Chuuya.” Dazai leans down so they’re eye to eye. “I want you… I need you.”
Chuuya breathes in and out before hitting Dazai in the face with a pillow. The man flops over like the dead fish he is and Chuuya rolls over, pulling the blankets around him. “We’ll figure it out in the morning.”
“...Together?”
“...Sure.”
Silence settles one more time.
“You’re hogging all the blankets.”
“Oh my lord-!”
Chuuya holds a coffee in his hand as he flips over a pancake. The kitchen speaker quietly plays music next to him as he hums along to the tune.
Arms come around his middle from the back and a weight settles on his head.
“Happy Anniversary,” Dazai mumbles from above.
Chuuya hums and sets down his coffee, hand coming up to pat Dazai’s cheek. “Happy Anniversary to you too.”
Dazai’s head drops down to kiss Chuuya’s cheek and the man groans.
“Your stubble’s scratching me…”
“Oops…” Dazai chuckles out which only earns him a glare.
“To four more years?” Dazai asks over the pancakes and coffee once they sit down, lifting his mug in a toast.
Chuuya rolls his eyes, trying to suppress a smile before lifting his own mug. “To more than four more years.”
Constants are a hard thing to promise but the gentle clink of their glasses coming together makes Chuuya hopeful that Dazai can stay one.
“Sap.”
“Shut it, ‘Samu.”