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Ryuunosuke, for once in his life, wished he hadn’t listened to his superiors. Yes, Chuuya was an executive in the Port Mafia, and yes, he had a fearsome and powerful ability. But at this point in the night, Ryuunosuke would have preferred to deal with the fallout of disobeying an order rather than… whatever this was.
It had begun when Chuuya had invited him out for a drink to a local bar, saying he didn’t get outside and actually socialize enough. If it were anyone else, Ryuunosuke would have responded with an austere ‘Socializing is not what accomplishes missions’ and declined the invitation. But Chuuya had seemed so enthusiastic… and he was Ryuunosuke’s superior, so there had really been no room for refusal.
And to his surprise, as he’d followed Chuuya out of the headquarters, he’d actually felt slightly… happy? Excited? The sensation had been subtle and mildly surprising, but he’d been naive enough to consider it a good omen for the rest of the night.
The bar had been noisy and crowded -- such an uncivilized rabble, he’d thought. Chuuya had ordered both of them wine, going on about the history of the bottle and how Ryuunosuke needed to learn how to enjoy himself. Despite the chaos around him, sitting with Chuuya had been almost pleasant.
At least until his mentor and mortal enemy happened to walk into the bar. He’d straightened with a gasp upon the sight of Dazai, and his awe had turned quickly to fury when he noticed the weretiger trailing behind.
Chuuya had jolted upright, already mildly drunk, and growled something incoherent about the stench of a mackerel. With determination he’d stood up, making his way over to their rivals with only a few stumbles along the way. Ryuunosuke had reluctantly followed him, bringing his barely sipped wine glass.
For the next half hour, the ex-partners had griped nonstop at each other, Dazai succeeding in getting Chuuya stone drunk (not that such a feat was particularly difficult, but you would never hear Ryuunosuke say such a thing. He didn’t have a death wish).
During that time, Ryuunosuke had been forced to remain within ten feet of his mortal enemy. His only consolation was that the weretiger had looked equally uncomfortable.
He wasn’t sure how it happened. He wasn’t sure when Chuuya and Dazai united against him, only that suddenly, a shot was being forced into his hand. The weretiger also looked bewildered and was holding a shot of his own.
“It’s a competition, Akutagawa!” Dazai announced, sounding much too delighted for Ryuunosuke’s liking.
“What sort of competition, may I ask?” he replied, casting a glare at his mortal enemy for good measure.
“Shitty Dazai ‘n I bet on which o’ you could drink more,” Chuuya explained, leaning heavily on Dazai. “You… you gotta win for me Aku…”
Ryuunosuke instantly felt a surge of anger and betrayal. Dazai had chosen the weretiger over him? This was nonsense. He obviously had to prove his worth and his strength via this strange drinking contest. “Very well,” he snapped. “The weretiger likely can’t hold his alcohol anyway.”
“Hey!” Atsushi protested. “I bet I get out more than you!” Which was probably true, but Ryuunosuke would never admit it.
“So is the contest on?” Dazai asked with a sly grin. When both of them nodded resolutely, he cast them a cheery smile. “Well then, drink!” He gestured to the cups in their hands, somehow managing to smack Chuuya in the face. This led the executive to once again start complaining drunkenly about bandaged freaks and their lack of coordination, both in regards to combat, daily life, and the bed--
Ryuunosuke quickly stopped listening, absolutely certain he did not want to hear the rest of what Chuuya was rambling about. Instead, he downed the shot, nearly choking at the taste. At least the weretiger also grimaced, looking disgusted. But upon seeing Ryuunosuke looking at him, Atsushi straightened defiantly. “I’ll have another!” he declared, stifling a cough.
“I too will take a second,” Ryuunosuke cut in, not about to be outdone by his mortal enemy. He glanced to see if Dazai had noticed, then looked away almost instantly. Dazai had gotten… distracted. Yes. And Chuuya, Port Mafia executive, was definitely not fraternizing with the enemy in a way that could have been considered inappropriate had they not been in a crowded bar where a quarter of the inhabitants were doing the same thing.
Ryuunosuke saw nothing. As far as he was concerned, this incident would never be spoken of by any of them.
Instead, he stared resolutely at Atsushi, who appeared to have come to the same conclusion. Together they downed a second glass. Then a third.
At this point, Ryuunosuke’s vision was getting foggy, and the room was spinning intermittently. Luckily, the weretiger didn’t look any better off.
In any other situation, Ryuunosuke would have sacrificed everything to compete against his mortal enemy. However… “Weretiger,” he announced, trying to force some semblance of dignity into his voice and posture, “Perhaps we should bring our superiors home.” He had to fight a sudden wave of nausea, but he somehow managed to keep his face composed.
In any other situation, Atsushi would have likely bristled at the comment, saying he wouldn’t take orders from a mafioso. However, he looked as bad as Ryuunosuke felt, and only nodded in response. The pain on his face was almost cute-- that was definitely the alcohol talking, nothing was cute about his mortal enemy whatsoever.
Fortunately, when both of them turned to face their mentors, Dazai was simply supporting Chuuya. Ryuunosuke took a brief moment to thank the gods before saying, “Perhaps we should help Chuuya-san home.”
“Oh certainly,” Dazai said breezily, looking only mildly drunk. “I know where his penthouse is--” I am honestly unsurprised… “--but you two, as my current and former subordinates, must help me on this perilous journey.” He smirked.
Something was definitely going to go wrong; he wasn’t as naive as the weretiger and knew that this had to be one of Dazai’s schemes. But there was no way he was going to do something as extreme as refuse Dazai, so he replied, “Of course, Dazai-san. I will assist you in whatever you require.” He spoke slower than usual, but he would not let the alcohol compromise his eloquence.
“So will I,” Atsushi chimed in hurriedly, shooting Ryuunosuke a distrustful look. “W-what do you need?”
“One moment,” Dazai responded cheerfully. “I have a chibi I need to take care of.” With an impressive amount of grace (that implied the action had been repeated many times), he slung Chuuya over his shoulders such that the executive was effectively piggybacking him. “Alright! Let’s go!”
Ryuunosuke obediently left the bar. He was an extremely professional person, displaying only strength to prove his worth--
He was throwing up on the sidewalk. His sudden movement had caused Atsushi to yelp, leaping a literal five feet in the air as his legs transformed spontaneously into a tiger’s. The motion also must have triggered a fresh wave of nausea, because a few seconds later Atsushi had doubled over and vomited alongside Ryuunosuke.
“Aku, you’re makin’... mess,” Chuuya slurred, voice muffled from where his face was buried in the crook of Dazai’s neck.
“I apologize,” Ryuunosuke managed to gasp out before he was overcome with a fit of coughing, his lungs contracting painfully and a small splatter of blood joining the vomit on the ground.
“It’s blood!” Atsushi squeaked, staggering over to him. “A-Aku, are you going to die?” His eyes went wide with-- was that fear?-- at the prospect. “Dazai-san what if Akutagawa dies?”
“Oh look, alcohol only increases his anxiety.” Dazai sounded bored. “Come along now, you too. You have to survive for all the activities I have planned!” And his giddy facade had returned.
Atsushi looked terrified. Chuuya sighed, mumbling a string of creative curses.
Ryuunosuke was merely thankful that his nausea had subsided somewhat, though he was still seeing double and he still felt like diving under a blanket and never emerging again. But he followed Dazai through the streets of Yokohama, refusing to waver while the weretiger was still standing.
Soon they reached Chuuya's place, and Dazai deposited his partner unceremoniously on the couch before spinning around (only a little tipsy, how was this possible?) with a wide grin. “Now then, have you two ever played Dungeons & Dragons?”
Ryuunosuke blinked, wondering if he’d heard right through the intoxicated haze in his mind. “Pardon?” he mumbled.
Atsushi squeaked, looking terrified. “Um, um, uh huh like once I was a gnome and uh I--”
“Perfect!” Dazai cheered. “Now Aku, does the Port Mafia still hold weekly sessions?”
“Yes?” Is this really happening? Am I in some demented fever dream?
“Alright, I’ll be right back!” With that, his previous superior spun around, waltzing into Chuuya's bedroom before reappearing with his arms full of various D&D materials. A dice tray, character sheets, a laptop… Briefly, Ryuunosuke wondered if this was some elaborate set-up… but it couldn’t be, right?
Dazai moved over to the sofa and coffee table, dumping everything down and opening the laptop. Then he plopped down onto the couch, on top of Chuuya’s stomach. Chuuya’s eyes narrowed a little in irritation, but he made no move to shove Dazai off.
Ryuunosuke was NOT going to think about where exactly Dazai was sitting and how that related to Chuuya’s current compliance nope he was not, this train of thought never existed.
Instead he stumbled over to the table, sitting on the floor with less grace than he would’ve liked. Atsushi sat down beside him, nearly falling over onto him. The slight shock Ryuunosuke felt at the possibility of-- this was most definitely disgust and nausea, not anything that could be interpreted as a liking of his mortal enemy.
“Now, you, Atsushi, are a paladin!” Dazai announced, sliding a character sheet the weretiger’s way. “And you, Aku, are obviously a warlock.” He was silent for an awkward 30 seconds in which he folded a character sheet into a paper airplane, then threw it at Ryuunosuke’s face.
Ow. The airplane was a trivial flesh wound, but it cut his heart deeply.
“Let us begin!” Dazai said dramatically, pulling his computer onto his lap and shifting in his seat-- no nope he was not doing that, he wasn’t doing what Ryuunosuke thought he was doing and this was all his imagination. The alcohol playing tricks on his mind.
Ryuunosuke decided to suffer looking at the idiot weretiger instead of the drunken smirk on Chuuya’s face.
“So: You two must rescue a fabled princess from an underwater castle!” his mentor declared, sounding much too pleased. “But first, you must defeat an evil snowman!”
“A snowman? Evil?” Atsushi squeaked.
“Yes,” Dazai said, voice dropping to a dramatic whisper. Now, it was getting difficult for Ryuunosuke to focus, his thoughts caught in an inebriated haze. So he almost thought he hallucinated what happened next.
“But first,” his former superior continued, “You must pass through the Door.”
“The Door!” Chuuya announced, his voice louder than it should have been.
“The… Door?” Ryuunosuke clarified weakly, wondering if the two were teaming up against him and Atsushi.
“The Door!” Dazai affirmed, a bright, innocent smile plastered on his face.
“What is the Door?” he inquired in response, trying not to slur his words.
“I, er, think he means something that opens?” Atsushi tried, then yelped as Rashoumon nearly skewered him. “Aku, what did I tell you about lethal stabs?!”
“The Door is everythin’,” Chuuya said dramatically, inhibited only by his clear inebriety.
“All that once was and will ever be!” Dazai chimed in, waving his arms.
“The Door controls time and space!” The room flashed red and trembled with subtle gravity manipulation.
“Life and death.”
“The Door can see into your mind.”
“The Door can SEE INTO YOUR SOUL.”
Finished with their duet, both Chuuya and Dazai were now staring at them.
“Er, the door can really do all that?” Atsushi asked, casting a look at Ryuunosuke that seemed to say, ‘ Why did we ever agree to this?’ And just this once, Ryuunosuke found this sentiment most understandable.
“Heh, no.” Dazai shrugged.
“ What?” Ryuunosuke demanded… but without much force behind it. He felt like passing out on the floor, come to think of it… maybe he could find a blanket and hide from the world.
“Well, if a door could do all that,” Dazai said matter-of-factly, “it would be able to make Chuuya taller and give him a better fashion sense, which is impossible, so--”
“Bastard!” Chuuya swatted him clumsily. “You’re the freak with the bandages here.”
To dispel the thickening sexual tension in the air, Ryuunosuke interjected quickly, “Well then, I step forward and open this Door.”
“Roll for dexterity,” Dazai said, typing something on his computer. However, when Ryuunosuke reached for the dice, he raised a chastising finger. “ Nuh uh uh, both you and Atsushi need to roll! You’re lovers~, after all.”
Atsushi’s eyes widened. “ What?”
Ryuunosuke tried to question his mentor in a dignified manner, but all that came out was a squeaky, “Uh-- Dazai-san--?”
“You cannot move without each other and you cannot cast magic without each other,” Dazai continued, as if he wasn’t infuriating his players. “Now roll for dexterity, both of you.” His smile was devilish.
The weretiger gestured desperately. “But-- but he’s--”
“He’s sparklin’ threateningly at you,” Chuuya mumbled, sounding resigned, “you just need to do what ‘e says.”
Hm. Logically, it would make sense that if Ryuunosuke agreed to collaborate with the weretiger and be his lover first, then that would make him superior to Atsushi. This was the only logical option and Ryuunosuke was not doing this because of the strange, unidentifiable flutter in his stomach at the thought. “Let’s roll together, weretiger,” he said decisively, picking up a d20.
“My mortal…,” Atsushi said meekly, before sighing, his shoulder slumping. “ Fine.” He grabbed a d20, casting it into the dice tray. Ryuunosuke rolled his a moment later.
“17,” he announced, smiling blearily at what was sure to be a superior roll.
“Ha! 18!” Atsushi’s triumph was dampened by his terrified squeal as he dodged another Rashoumon.
“Atsushi helps Akutagawa open the Door,” Dazai stated primly.
“I don’t need help from the weretiger!”
Atsushi smirked suddenly. “AS IF, bruh.”
This was the last straw. “RASHOUMON WITH DESPAIR!”
Dazai sighed, reaching out and poking Ryuunosuke’s neck. The black tendrils of death disappeared moments before hitting Atsushi, who had screamed. Alcohol clearly just heightened the weretiger’s anxiety. “Pay attention, my young players! For, up ahead, you see a whale!”
Chuuya gasped, sitting up. “It’s the whale!”
“...What?” Atsushi looked as hopelessly confused as Ryuunosuke felt.
“Nooo!” Dazai clutched his heart, “It’s the WHALE!”
“The whale, ” Chuuya agreed, wrapping his arms around Dazai’s shoulders before falling back down, this time pulling his ex-partner with him.
There was an uncomfortably long period of time filled mostly with silence (Ryuunosuke wished with all his being that it had been silent the whole time). The laptop fell on the floor. Ryuunosuke once again decided that he could suffer focusing on Atsushi.
Then Dazai’s head suddenly snapped up. “The whale leaves,” he said brightly. “What do you do?”
“Clearly we were meant to defeat the whale,” Ryuunosuke stated, casting the weretiger a condescending look. Unfortunately, at that moment, he slipped, accidentally falling into Atsushi, who yelped but didn’t move clearly out of confusion yes of course his face wasn’t red at all.
“Um, um, but we have to find the snowman, right?” the weretiger squeaked out. “We have to continue onwards!”
“I don’t take orders from you, a lowly animal,” Ryuunosuke muttered in response, glaring up at his mortal enemy.
“But what if the whale’s actually nice? He could be an ally!”
“It’s not that big a deal, okay?!”
“ As you’re arguing, ” Dazai cut in, grinning, “A dangerous gas--”
He was interrupted by a well-aimed punch from Chuuya. “Just let ‘em make a decision, you ‘mpatient ass!”
Dazai gasped dramatically from where he was still sprawled across Chuuya. “ Atsushi! It’s an attack from the Port Mafia! I’ll give you Chuuya’s wallet if you defeat him for me!”
“You BITCH!”
Ryuunosuke stood up. Turned around. Walked into the closet. Reluctantly let Atsushi in too, because escaping psychological scarring in the form of soukoku was always a relatable and respectable (though sometimes impossible) venture.
For a second both of them stood in the closet, staring at each other.
“Thank you for letting me in here,” Atsushi said eventually. “It was really nice of you.”
What was this warm feeling flooding through him? Why was he nearly speechless? He tried opening his mouth to say something but--
Atsushi grinned again. “Yeah, as if.”
Ryuunosuke lunged at him. But, in an abrupt twist of fate, their fight just happened to transition into something else, where their lips connected instead of their attacks.
~~~
“Be quiet, Dazai,” Chuuya hissed as soon as Akutagawa had shut the door. He shoved the damn mackerel off of him, climbing over the couch and pulling his partner behind him.
Both of them stopped outside the door, both listening intently.
‘ Yeah, as if!’ Sounds of fighting, and then…
Mission accomplished.
Chuuya hated Dazai, obviously. But sometimes, playing his game (and pretending to be drunk) was just a little too fun.
“Hey Chuuuuyaaa,” the bandaged maniac whispered, “Wanna try to open the door to the bedroom? You’d need to roll for dexterity…”
Chuuya smirked. “Lovers roll together, idiot.”
As he dragged Dazai to the bedroom, he typed Mori a quick text that he and Akutagawa wouldn’t be coming to work tomorrow.
Cause if Chuuya had anything to do with it, it was gonna be a long night.