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On one of his rare day offs in the morning, Chuuya decided to pass the time by taking a stroll through Yokohama. Because somehow, despite all of his time living here, he’s only rarely been given the free time to truly walk through and appreciate the city’s beauty, especially considering that since for most of his life, he’d been living in Suribachi City and worrying over things with the Sheep or more recently, been too invested into work and going out of town for missions with the Port Mafia. And this is even less so during the mornings, since he’s usually heading to the Port Mafia offices—typically by car too—or is in them already doing work by then.
He was currently strolling along the seaside in Yamashita park, the walkway not too busy, yet still had a good handful of 8 A.M. joggers or dog-walkers who were currently enjoying the early morning day as Chuuya was. He’s been here many times before, both on and off missions with the Port Mafia, yet most of them were either in the afternoon or at night. He’s never really been here in the mornings, and Chuuya took note of the fact that it was much different than the afternoon and night. Yet a difference that he didn’t seem to mind.
For one, the warmth of the rising sun cancels out the chilly breeze of being so close to the water, causing a comfortable temperature that isn’t too warm or too cold. That’s one of the downsides of coming here at night. You don’t have anything to block out the chill of late night winds mixed with water, unless you have a jacket or layers on. While a slight inconvenience, it was one Chuuya was used to, honestly. Although nevertheless, he doesn’t mind the warmth the sun provides right now. Truthfully, it’s a warmth that you could get in the afternoon as well, yet the park can be crowded at that time, especially on the weekends. Right now, there isn’t too many people out and about, and it’s nice to have a moment where the only sounds you hear are the winds rustling the trees, the waves crashing alongside the ports, and the seagulls tittering away, with background noise of overlapping voices to a mere whisper instead of a shout.
“Chuuya!” Somebody exclaimed from behind him. How ironic. Especially considering that this “somebody” was one that Chuuya unfortunately knew way too closely, much to his despair.
Stopping in his tracks and taking a deep breath, Chuuya prepared himself to turn around and be met with a tall, lanky figure, a lopsided grin that did not make Chuuya’s heart flutter every time he saw it, fluffy dark brown hair that Chuuya could tell was soft to the touch and tousled in a way that screamed “messy on purpose,” working for him in all the right ways, and dark, void-like eyes that seemed to go on forever and ever and Chuuya could just be hypnotized by one look into them—
“Fancy seeing you here, Chibi.”
Okay, when the hell did he get in front of him!? Masking his slight shock for a bit, Chuuya stared up at Dazai in all his bandaged glory, his mind going haywire for a second as Dazai tilted his head to the side slightly when Chuuya didn’t answer, reminding him of a lost puppy if not for that malicious, yet charming grin that was more akin to the slyness of a fox, a contradiction that had Chuuya captivated by the man in front of him—fuck, he’s getting off topic.
“Don’t call me that,” Chuuya stated with a sneer, narrowing his eyes at his . . . He doesn’t even know what. Former partner? Current partner? They were rivals, by technicality, like their workplaces weren’t exactly friendly with one another, except they’re in some sort of peace period right now which—honestly that doesn’t matter. He and Dazai are rivals. That should be the end of the story, but it’s unfortunately not, and being completely honest, it’s messing with Chuuya’s head. Dazai’s his former partner, he’s known the mummy for seven years and worked alongside him—albeit reluctantly—for three. So they’re work partners, right? Wrong. During that time, Chuuya’s traitorous brain decided to think Dazai may actually be, kind of, maybe, just a little bit—not a little bit—handsome. “Fine,” if you will. And even throughout the four years of not seeing the fishy bastard, that thought apparently hasn’t gone away. Just great! Whatever, right now, his feet are walking alongside Dazai’s, and he had no idea when it started.
Taking a deep breath, Chuuya silenced his inner panic at Dazai’s sheer beauty, turning to look at him with a questioning expression, eyebrow raised quizzically. “Shouldn’t you be at your work right now?” He accused, hoping Dazai didn’t catch on to his inner turmoil. But knowing Dazai, he probably did. Fuck.
“Shouldn’t you?” Dazai countered with a lazy voice, looking down at Chuuya with another one of his infuriating smirks. Even without doing anything, Chuuya still wants to sock Dazai’s handsome face just to wipe that stupid smirk off of him, and totally not because it's way too devilishly gorgeous for any man to have.
“I’m off today,” Chuuya said, smirking slightly at the fact that Dazai's quip didn’t work, not this time.
“Well then, me too,” Dazai said in response, and while Chuuya had some questions about the odd way of phrasing, he didn’t bring them up. He just let himself fall into a comfortable silence with Dazai, looking out towards the sea as the two walked. Weirdly enough, Chuuya didn’t mind this—waking along the seaside with Osamu Dazai in step next to him. Even if he hates the guy with every fiber of his being yet simultaneously wants to kiss him with every fiber of his being, he’ll admit that this is nice. Unfortunately for him however, he was too immersed in the mesmerizing way the waves crashed alongside the ports and his own thoughts that he didn’t hear the bell of a cyclist coming from behind, causing Chuuya to step out of the way last minute—and into Dazai. What the fuck, this day just keeps getting better worse.
He turned towards Dazai in a way that would be cliché, slowly, like this is some sort of romantic comedy—nope, nevermind, ignore that thought! Firstly this isn’t romantic whatsoever, and secondly, Chuuya isn’t trying to be comedic! But even if Dazai chuckles at his expression, one arm gently wrapped around Chuuya to tug him back from the cyclist while preventing him from falling over, looking down at Chuuya with sparkles of light in his usual void-like eyes as if Chuuya is his light, lips quirked up at the corners in a soft smile—oh my god, Chuuya knew it was bad, but he’s smitten with Dazai. Like genuinely, wholeheartedly, embarrassingly in love with this man, it is both insane and makes Chuuya want to kill Dazai for merely existing so handsomely. How dare that stupid Mackerel, being born with a face like that?
And to make matters worse—oh Chuuya just wants to beat the shit out of Dazai for this one—that bastard had the audacity to make a joke as if he could read Chuuya’s mind.
“I didn’t know Chuuya fell for me?” Dazai remarked smugly, a very obvious taunting tone to his voice. Chuuya shouldn’t rise to the bait, that’ll just give Dazai more material to work with. Really, he should just apologize for bumping into him then go on his merry way—
“Have to say I’m flattered Chuuya couldn't resist my charm. But to be quite frank, you’re too much of a Chibi for my tastes. Not to mention hotheaded and a brute.”
Okay fuck it, if Dazai’s asking for a fight, then a fight he will fucking get . . . At a later time, because they’ll still in public, and Chuuya can't exactly go around kicking people in some random park. He settled on shooting the meanest death glare he could muster at Dazai while furiously fighting down a blush he hopes isn’t making its way onto his face, and putting the most venom in his tone.
“I hate you,” Chuuya seethed, yet even as he did so, he saw Dazai’s mouth curl into one of his charming smiles again and Chuuya was so close to throwing his public image away for kicking this man square in the jaw.
“Kidding, Chibi,” Dazai backtracked, his hands up in mock surrender. It seems that he was able to sense the wrath in Chuuya’s voice and decided to back off, at least for a little bit, because Chuuya swears the next thing Dazai says is just to mess with him, even if he knows deep down that it isn't. “You’re perfect the way you are.”
Okay, if Chuuya was having a hard time fighting down his blush then, then he has no chance now, his face is as bright red as a tomato, he is sure of it. It’s just the way Dazai said that—his expression going softer, his voice lacking that teasing tone to it and instead replaced with something gentler, the way he looked at Chuuya as if he was his world—there is no way Chuuya just cannot be affected by it.
Luckily for him—or unluckily, depending on how you look at it—Dazai noticed Chuuya’s brain just stop working, smirked at him, then immediately jumped into small talk as he started walking again, causing Chuuya to come back to his senses as he followed, right in step with Dazai.
“Yamashita Park is peaceful in the mornings, isn’t it?” Dazai remarked, and honestly Chuuya would be lying if he said he wasn’t grateful for the topic change. He replied in a normal manner, walking off with Dazai to wherever they end up.
And, well, if his hand ended up sliding into Dazai’s during their little walk, then Chuuya will just have to fret about what it means later.