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It’d been years and Verlaine’s words still haunted him, lurking in quiet corners and taking the shape of hallucinations after one too many sleepless nights; never in dreams, he didn’t have those, after all.
“Fuck,” Chuuya muttered, setting down his wine glass and putting his head in his hands, suddenly feeling drained.
Arahabaki was making his life hell, constantly lurking in the back of his mind and filling his head with stupid, destructive ideas. All Chuuya wanted was one fucking moment of peace, but of course he couldn’t have that.
You never will have that peace, the voice of Arahabaki chimed in, all gravelly and proud. Not as long as I’m here— your soul doesn’t belong to you; you don’t even have one!
“Shut up,” Chuuya groaned, trying to tune the god’s voice out. He could feel Arahabaki clawing at his mental barriers, trying to tear them down and doing a damn good job— Chuuya could only pray he didn’t succeed.
There was a reason Chuuya hated Corruption, a reason greater than the fact he didn’t want to cause destruction. He hated losing control, hated feeling so inhuman and not knowing if he was going to die like that— a monster, soulless.
He could feel his resolve slipping, could feel the dark tendrils of Arahabaki coiling around his neck and squeezing. He probably shouldn't have drank so much, not when it left him so vulnerable to the entity that plagued his mind.
There were days he missed Dazai, missed the way he could silence Arahabaki with one touch, but he couldn’t have him anymore. It wasn’t enough that the agency and mafia had worked together a few times— what they once had was gone, shattered like the broken glass left behind after Dazai blew up Chuuya’s car.
Curling into himself, Chuuya tugged on his hair, his breathing shallow and his heart racing.
Pathetic, came Arahabaki’s growl. You long for a man who doesn’t even think about you. You cry and drink and pretend things are normal, when the very essence of your soul is chipping away with every passing moment; soon enough, you will be nothing but a passing thought and I will be the one in control, just wait.
Chuuya didn’t want to believe it, but there was a certain truth to the god’s words— he wasn’t wrong, Chuuya was growing weaker. He could feel his power draining him, taking and taking until he was nothing more than a shell.
Trembling, Chuuya reached for his phone. He scrolled until his finger hovered over a number he’d blocked ages ago— Dazai.
“Can’t fuckin’ believe I’m doin’ this,” Chuuya huffed incredulously, clicking the contact and beginning to type.
…
…
…
Of all the things Dazai had learnt to expect, he was not expecting a text from Chuuya, of all people.
The text was simple, a quick come over, please and it was so uncharacteristic of the ginger that Dazai’s blood ran cold. Their relationship was strained, to say the least, filled with nothing more than petty arguments and childish insults that never failed to bring a smile to Dazai’s face— this message was not either of those things.
Quickly, Dazai closed his phone and took his headphones off, dragged back into the reality that was the chaos that was his agency.
He blanched, watching as Kunikida screamed his head off about something Dazai couldn’t be bothered to care about. Whatever, that wasn’t important— quietly, he picked up his coat and made his way out the door, ignoring the concerned voices of his coworkers asking where he was going.
He took Kunikida’s car, anxious to get to his ex-partner’s apartment before something, anything happened; he refused to be too late.
The building was eerily quiet when Dazai entered, filled with only a few people walking around and going about their own business— it didn’t help Dazai’s anxiety as he made his way to the 39th floor.
“Chibi?” Dazai called out, putting on a false cheery tone as he knocked on Chuuya’s apartment door. He couldn’t hear anything for a few moments, left only with the sound of his own breathing.
After a few moments, shuffling came from inside the apartment and the door opened, only mildly startling the brunette.
Chuuya looked terrible, Dazai realized, looking the man up and down. His eyes were red-rimmed and teary, his skin was bruised and red, his hair was damp with sweat, and there was something haunted in his eyes.
Dazai was immediately concerned. Covering the majority of his skin, there were pinkish marks covering Chuuya, as if Corruption was trying to break through his very skin.
As if on impulse, Dazai reached out and grabbed Chuuya’s wrist, frowning when the man immediately fell limp in his hold, placing nearly all his weight on Dazai.
Fuck, Dazai thought, adjusting himself so he had a better hold on Chuuya.
“Okay, thats fine,” he muttered. “Come on, let’s get you to bed; you know tiny chibis like you shouldn’t drink so much.”
As expected, Chuuya immediately began to protest, though it sounded more like incoherent mumbling.
“Yeah, yeah,” Dazai grinned, pulling Chuuya into the living room and sitting them both down on the black couch. “Chibi’s so clingy today!”
”Sh’t th’ fuck up,” Chuuya mumbled, squinting his eyes up at Dazai though he only cuddled in closer, trying to leave no space between the two.
What happened to you? Dazai asked himself internally, looking at the dark circles under his ex-partner’s eyes and the tenseness in his posture. It had been so long since Dazai had been in Chuuya’s apartment— it was one of the few boundaries he swore never to cross until Chuuya himself asked him to come, and now he did. The space was unfamiliar and oddly hostile, a stark difference from the careless and comforting feeling it used to bring him.
The silence was stifling, but it was broken by Chuuya himself, “Sorry for dragging you into my shit.”
“Awe, don’t worry about it, chibi~! You know I love spending time with you!” Dazai grinned, trying to lighten up the mood.Chuuya didn’t answer, resting his head back on Dazai’s chest and waiting a few more moments. “You make him shut up.”
Suddenly, things were starting to make a lot more sense; Dazai’s gaze softened as he looked down at Chuuya, frowning lightly.
“I’ll be here whenever you need me,” Dazai said— he meant it, he would never leave Chuuya again, not even in death.
He hadn’t wanted to leave Chuuya in the first place, not really— why would he purposefully leave the one person who’s made an actual effort to understand him and still treat him like a person? But he did anyway, and their bond broke to something almost irreparable. It was more than he could’ve wished for that Chuuya was actually seeking him out, allowing him to enter his space; Dazai wouldn’t take it for granted, not again.