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Chuuya stares at the invitation taped onto his desk. River Isles Private Wine Cellar Open House: 2nd Decemeber 3-5PM. Free wine-tasting and discounts off selected products. 4-167 Motomachi, Naka-ku, Yokohama 231-0861. He wonders who among the shitty mafia members had a kind enough soul to alert him of an event like this. Probably Mori-san. But then who the fuck broke into his room which is guarded with a thumbprint scan and 3 different passcode locks? Chuuya reminds himself to change the password soon and maybe install a security camera this time, just in case someone tries to trespass again.
He double checks the address even though he knows the city layout like the back of his hand. Sure enough, there is a new wine cellar displayed on his mobile map. The invitation isn’t someone’s fabulous idea of a practical joke then (checking information out for himself has long become Chuuya’s second instinct after getting periodically fooled by Dazai). He makes a note on his planner—two days from now, huh? That’s something to look forward to after their raid on the Armed Detective Agency tomorrow.
Hirotsu breaks down the door with his ability. Mori, at the very front of the squad (who knew the boss would personally lead this attack?), meets a frowning Fukazawa within the first two steps into the office.
“You came a day early,” the director states quietly.
Mori shrugs, unsheathing his scalpel from its protective pocket. Chuuya would laugh if it weren’t for the murderous intent glinting in the boss’s eyes: he thought Dazai was kidding when he said Mori used scalpels, but apparently this was no joke.
“Rather rude of you to greet a friend with a complaint, don’t you think?”
“Rather rude of you to show up armed at a friend’s house, don’t you think?” Fukazawa responds evenly then moves to knock the scalpel out of Mori’s hand. At the sight of their leader being attacked, the mafia surges into the small office, each one purposefully attacking a specific member of the agency. Is this meant to be a one-on-one fight? Chuuya was definitely not notified of this battle plan. He just thought they were going all out to crush the annoying organization once and for all. Well, it seems as though he missed a board meeting at some point.
Akutagawa brushes past him, eager—very eager to fling himself into Atsushi’s tiger paws and launch both of them backwards. Since when did the man jump into hand-to-hand combat willingly? Chuuya thinks that this is enough evidence for the recent rumors of the two getting over their differences and developing a budding friendship—or even something more. Dazai must be happy, he realizes bitterly, happy that a new “Soukoku duo” is being born, and under his guidance too. He watches the two exchange practice punches—Atsushi blocking Rashomon’s advances with his arms, Akutagawa whipping ends of his coat to strike a blow. He almost sees Dazai in Atsushi’s position and him in Akutagawa’s.
To his left, Yosano is locked in combat with Kouyou, but why the fuck isn’t Kouyou using her Golden Demon? They seem to be trading snide comments with every hit, their mouths never shutting properly before responding to whatever remark the other dished out. He sees Tachihara wrestling a…Tanizaki? He isn’t even sure whether that is the name of the guy with the useless illusion ability or not. Chuuya wants to yell at him for not using his pistol at such a close range, what the fuck finish him off.
Looking at all the laughable scuffles breaking out left and right, Chuuya’s starting to realize that something has gone really, really wrong. He spots Dazai in the middle of the room, alone, and approaches him.
“What the fuck did you do?” he snaps, jabbing a finger at the unimpressed man. “What did you do to the mafia members?”
Dazai’s gaze extends through Chuuya. He observes the fighting around him and sighs complacently, “How nice it is that the two organizations are play-fighting! You’re not going to ruin this by killing me right, Chuu-ya?”
Chuuya feels his face heating up in anger. It’s unfair how Dazai doesn’t look at him when he say that—he never does unless Chuuya forces him to with a grip on his black locks and scalp. So he opts for that, gloved hands reaching for the back of Dazai’s head, tilting his face down so he can be goddamn interrogated.
“Did you not hear me?” Chuuya hisses. “What the fuck did you do to Port Mafia?”
Somewhere, Tachihara whistles. Chuuya, completely focused on the confrontation, doesn’t hear him. But Dazai does, and he peers at the Black Lizard commander. Tanizaki frantically punches the offender across the face, hoping that the ex-mafia member would think no more of it.
“Sorry,” he mutters once he makes sure Dazai is forced to face down by Chuuya again.
Tachihara shoots him an offended look and then resumes tackling him lightly.
“—Chuuya got the invite—”
“—thinks it’s a trap—”
“Convince him—”
“—it’s tomorrow!”
“—why do you think we came early?!”
“Because you want to see me—ow.”
On the other side of the room, Chuuya scowls at Dazai, realizing that the genius isn’t giving answers up any time soon. He knees the taller man in the stomach, hand yanking hard on black hair. He hates Dazai for abandoning him, hates him for empty promises made so long ago, hates him for having the audacity to take the rest of the mafia away from him. He’s about to land a hard punch straight onto Dazai’s face, but Mori’s voice cuts through.
“Enough Chuuya. We’re leaving. Consider yourself spared, Dazai-kun.”
Chuuya turns, about to snap at his boss but stops when he sees the bodies lying on the floor of the office. The majority of the agency has been downed, ugly wounds marking every patch of exposed skin. What the fuck? Just a second ago the mafia was holding back all their abilities and firearms, how did this happen? He faces Dazai again, but the taller one seems to be as lost as him.
“This isn’t you pulling some tricks, is it?” he asks, just in case.
“I don’t—”
Dazai’s sentence is harshly cut off by a hard smack to the head by Gin. Chuuya has to resist the urge to catch his falling, unconscious body as it topples to join his unfortunate comrades.
“The cops will be here soon, we’re leaving,” Mori repeats.
Chuuya exits the office without looking back, avoiding the gross, bleeding bodies on his way out.
“Are you going to the wine cellar open house?” Akutagawa pokes his head into the executive’s room.
“So you were the one who broke into my room?”
“No, can you not respond to my question with another question?”
“Hypocrite.” Chuuya teases. “Anyway, yeah, why are you asking?”
The man waves a similar invite in his hand.
“Didn’t know you had a rich enough taste for wine.”
Akutagawa scowls for a moment before softening his expression. “Interests change, do they not?”
He leaves and Chuuya wonders why the fuck everyone was acting weird.
At 2:45 there are three knocks against Chuuya’s door and a scratchy voice asking if he’s ready to leave. Chuuya cloaks himself with a long coat and opens the door to greet a really-well-dressed Akutagawa. He scans the younger man from head to toe, noting how the other looks away immediately when he realizes it. They leave the complex and walk two blocks to the wine cellar, Chuuya catching a whiff of wine from open bottles despite the overwhelming stench of car fumes. He speeds up.
Then—
“Dazai-san, I’m sure your date is coming, you have to be patient!” Atsushi whines, dragging the taller man to stay next to the wine cellar.
“Oh Atsushi-kun, how could you understand my undying sorrow and limitless grief?” Ugh, that dramatic voice. “I have been lied to! A destined double suicide date gone to waste just like this. What have I ever done to deserve this?”
Chuuya freezes. He wants to turn and leave, but the wine cellar is right there in front of him—
“Come on,” Akutagawa says, and Chuuya feels a strong grip on his arm—when did that get there—tugging him forward. He stumbles a few steps and braces himself for the spark of recognition in his ex-partner’s stupid eyes. Suddenly, he is shoved forward and the hand on his arm releases its hold. Losing his balance, he crashes into Dazai with a thwap.
“Akutagawa!!” Atsushi calls.
“Atsushi!!” Fuck, did the port mafia guy just scream enthusiastically? How did he manage to pull that off with his permanent coughing and hacking? Chuuya suddenly has a lot of questions and he wants answers to all of them. But he doesn’t get to ask any because the two younger men are walking away from him and Dazai, Dazai, fuck—
“Eh, what a place to bump into you,” Dazai muses to himself, and Chuuya is surprised that he hasn’t been shoved off yet.
“Right back at you, bandage freak, this is a wine cellar.”
He straightens himself back up, daring the other to find a retort to that. Dazai grimaces slightly and Chuuya wants to high five himself for making the genius concede defeat.
“What, can’t find your date? Aww, poor you,” Chuuya continues harassing him—finally, finally a good chance after so many years of waiting. “I bet she saw your fucking face and ran away screaming.”
“That was weak, Chuuya,” the other says. “Also, no, my date is right here.”
Chuuya follows his finger and realizes that Dazai is pointing straight at him. “Huh?”
“Wow, you’re kinda really stupid, even after all these years.”
“Sh-shut up, Osamu!”
“We’ve been had, Chuuya. The fucking bastards set us up. For a date.”
“Who? What date? What?”
“Akutagawa and Atsushi, how dense are you? And the rest of Port Mafia and the Armed Detective Agency, I guess.”
“Oh yeah? How do you explain the fight yesterday then, huh?”
“Chuuya, oh my god. It wasn’t a real raid. They nearly fooled me but Yosano’s healing worked too quickly to escape my notice.”
Chuuya pauses to think back. That’s right, everyone was fighting so half-heartedly and barely anyone activated their abilities—
“How did you all get wounded so bad then? And why did Mori even order a raid?”
“Tanizaki’s illusion ability, probably. That’s why they had to knock me out so I don’t find out, ouch, what a harsh price to pay for a pathetic date with you, of all people.”
Chuuya punches him lightly in the gut. He can’t afford to attract attention here, that’s why he didn’t go all out, yep.
“They were exchanging intel,” Dazai continues after an exaggerated hiss of pain. “Intel on the plans for this fucking date. That’s why Mori came.”
“God, why can’t they just meet up in secret instead of orchestrating something so big like a fake raid?”
“Because I would know. I might or might not track where the agency members are going, and they might or might not have mics slipped onto them,” Dazai says sheepishly.
Chuuya’s lips thin into a line. His ex-partner hasn’t changed a bit. He turns to face the wine cellar entrance. So much for an exquisite, peaceful experience of wine-tasting.
“Well, since our colleagues tried so hard to organize this date, why don’t we make the most out of it?” Dazai sounds so cheerful that Chuuya finds himself hoping that it’s genuine.
“I’m going to the open house,” he says curtly.
“Okay, I’ll go with you then.”
Chuuya is surprised to hear no real edge or teasing tone in Dazai’s voice. He looks up and sees that the other man is indeed not smiling, and looking very serious. As if to further prove his genuinity, he slips Chuuya’s hand in his, entwining their fingers gently. Chuuya finds himself relaxing into the hold, not at all bothered by the sudden step his old partner has taken.
“Hey Chuuya, after this can we find out where Akutagawa and Atsushi are and fuck them over?”
He giggles.
extra shit part 01 ft. akuatsu
“You said he had pictures of Dazai in his drawer?!”
“Yes, three. Maybe four. The last one was really blurry so I couldn’t tell.”
“Blurry?”
“I think Dazai-san was naked in that one.”
“Eh?!”
extra shit part 02 ft. akuatsu
“So that’s where it went. Chuuya has been complaining about losing his favourite hat ever since we kidnapped Dazai.”
“I think Dazai sleeps with it next to him. He cuddles with it or something?”
“How do you know?”
“Akutagawa, are you jealous?”
“No, as long as I can cuddle with you.”
“…”
“…”
“Eh?!”
extra shit part 03 ft. tachihara/takizaki (aka earringship)
“I’m so sorry I punched you the other day, did it hurt?”
“Not really it was better than getting thrown out from the fourth floor window.”
“…”
“…”
“I’m so sorry Kenji-kun threw you out from the fourth floor window, did it hurt?”
“Not really it was better than getting stabbed 36 times by Gin.”
“…”
“…”
“Eh?!”