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“When will we leave?” Naomi whines, fastened to her brother’s arm as usual. “It’s been an hour!”
In the office, the majority of members are lounging lazily atop desks and chairs. Only Dazai and Atsushi remain busy tidying up their looks—or more accurately, Atsushi is getting shuttled to and fro the bathroom by a fussing Dazai.
“Who am I even looking good for?” Atsushi says.
“You never know when a pretty lady shows up to take your hand for double suicide.”
Dazai looks dreamy for a brief moment before focusing on Atsushi again, unlatching the first two buttons of his black dress shirt. He mutters something suspiciously like “aaaand this will be the final blow”, then spins the younger boy around to display his handiwork to the rest of the agency. The combination of fabrics gets mixed review.
“No tie?”
“He looks surprisingly good in black for a change.”
“Dazai, this is the plainest outfit I’ve ever seen put together, and you spent an hour on it?”
“Why the choker?”
Atsushi has brought his fingers up to fiddle with said accessory. It feels tight on his neck, but not unbearably so. Dazai shrugs next to him.
“Aesthetic?” he offers, but everyone in the room knows that he has an ulterior motive—that is, apart from Atsushi himself.
“Alright, let’s go.” Kunikada says.
They file out of the office. The bar at which they reserved a table is a block away—owned by one of Fukuzawa-san’s acquaintance, apparently. Said owner also assured them peace and quiet to celebrate the defeat of the Guild. A nice little get-together, Dazai had cheerfully announced after doing most of the organization (for once), a chance to rest our nerves and let our guard down.
But Atsushi, though lacking in intuition and a sixth sense to detect danger, feels that something is fishy about this outing. First of all, when has anyone heard of Dazai taking the initiative to organize events? The scary enthusiasm and willingness means nothing but mischief. Second, he isn’t able to pinpoint exactly what, but the amount of attention Dazai is giving him makes him very, very uncomfortable. It’s almost like he expects something out of this celebration, like he expects something from Atsushi specifically. He cowers a little at the thought.
“After you,” Dazai keeps the door open and motions everyone to enter the bar.
“Oh what the fuck,” growls a deep voice as soon as the first agency member steps through. Atsushi pushes forward a little and goes on his tiptoes to see what the complaint was all about, and then—
“I’ll kill that shitty man-tiger if he’s here.”
“Hey now, why is the agency here to poop our party?”
“Dazai, what’s the meaning of this?” Kunikada turns from the aggressors to narrow his eyes at the grinning detective.
“Oops, didn’t know the mafia booked the same place.”
Kunikada is unsure about whether to proceed or not until Fukuzawa-san brushes past him and takes a seat at the table next to Port Mafia.
“Why that table out of all the others?” Atsushi whimpers quietly, sulking behind Kunikada.
“It’s the only one that has the ‘reserved’ sign on it.”
Atsushi makes another string of incoherent noises before following the others into the bar. He’s about to take the seat between Tanizaki and Kenji when Dazai tugs him by the choker and leads him (in a very humiliating manner) to the end of the table.
“You’re sitting here Atsushi-kun~”
He’s shoved into one of the chairs closest to Port Mafia, or specifically, the one closest to Akutagawa. Atsushi has a sudden worry that maybe Dazai turned traitor and is trying to hand me over to get killed, but why? There’s no bounty anymore. Maybe Dazai was never on my side to begin with—
Opposite him, Dazai has plopped himself onto the seat, looking particularly amused and pleased with himself. Atsushi doesn’t know whether this is a sign affirming his suspicions or not.
The first half an hour or so is spent ordering food and sorting out drinks (Ranpo ordered piña colada but wanted a coke float once he saw Kyouka’s drink arrive). Broken pieces of conversation float around the table as people are torn between studying menus and trying to ignore the daggers Port Mafia seem to be staring at them with. Atsushi, especially, feels Akutagawa’s hate emanating from the neighboring table.
“Now, now, Akutagawa-kun, there’s no need to regard Atsushi-kun here with so much hostility. We’re all here to have a good time, right?” Dazai says light-heartedly, half leaning over the table into the tiny gap separating the two groups.
Akutagawa’s mouth opens and closes a few times. Then he mutters a quiet “I guess.”
“In fact, let’s get you guys to know each other better! I know you cooperated to take Fitzgerald down—nearly brought me to tears, my two apprentices working together—but there’s still a lot of differences to get over, obviously.”
The cheery way Dazai is delivering his words makes Atsushi sick to the core. He sneaks a nervous glance at Akutagawa and finds the other regarding the conversation with a grim look bordering annoyance. However, he can tell that the Port Mafia member is still straining his ears to listen intently despite his otherwise uninterested expression. Atsushi wonders just what Dazai is trying to gain from all this trouble.
“Now, to make this easier for all of us, why don’t we make things lighter with alcohol?”
Atsushi waves goodbye to his plan to stay sober this evening. He accepts the glass of god-knows-whatever-it-is Dazai is waving in front of him. It reeks and the boy nearly throws up at the strong smell that he’s not entirely used to. He hears Akutagawa snort.
“So, why don’t we start from a well-mannered self-introduction, just like how normal strangers would do so as opposed to an instant murder attempt?” Dazai urges them on. “Take a sip; it’ll help both of you open up.”
It will have been comical—how both the younger males listen obediently to Dazai and proceed to drink out of the glass—if it weren’t for the glares from both the agency and the mafia. Somehow, Dazai managed to get this far without opposition from either side. Not even Kunikada said anything. Atsushi feels like he’s about to open up to both the mafia and the agency because everyone is so goddamn quiet and cautious.
“So, Akutagawa-kun, why don’t you start?”
“It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance. I am Akutagawa Ryunosuke.”
“Akutagawa-kun, there’s not need to act particularly stiff about it!”
The other ends of either table have started to lose their interest in this awkward conversation Dazai is evidently trying to conduct. Gradually, Atsushi finds himself to be able to breathe again as he feels stares drift away from him. Dazai claps his hands together.
“Now, let’s try that again once you two have another generous sip.”
“I’m Nakajima Atsushi and I like cats and chazuke.”
“Okay look, you two, those are basics. Get to the sweet juicy part, will you?”
Atsushi’s about to protest that it was Dazai’s own idea that they start from well-mannered self-introductions like normal strangers would but he finds himself struggling to tie the right words together.
“So back to you, Akutagawa. What do you like?” Dazai leans closer with every word—he looks like he’s going to be flattened out against the table any time soon.
“I like—”
“—chokers, murdering, calligraphy and the color black.”
Akutagawa looks up and frowns at the intruder. Said person takes the empty seat opposite him.
Nakahara. Nakahara Chuuya.
“You having fun there, Dazai?”
Atsushi suddenly finds Akutagawa way easier to look at. He turns and to his surprise, initiates a conversation with the Port Mafia member. Not any of those hate-filled exchanges amidst blows and punches, just casual talk, anything to take Chuuya off his case.
“So you said you like—”
“Chuuya said.” Akutagawa is quick to correct him. Atsushi considers this for a while; his brain is working way too sluggishly due to the alcohol.
“Right. Chuuya said you liked the color black, murdering, calligraphy and chokers. That’s really cool.”
Akutagawa is squirming a little in his seat and he looks very uncomfortable.
“How dense is your new apprentice?” Chuuya hisses at Dazai, making sure the other two don’t hear him. “Look how awkward he’s making Akutagawa feel.”
“You were the one who exposed Akutagawa.”
“God, you’re as insufferable as ever.”
Atsushi pays little mind to the duo opposite him. He’s running his mouth, what a surprise. Akutagawa tries his best to act distant, but the alcohol is knocking the last bit of pride that he’s clinging onto. He’s nodding and throwing in short responses of no malice. They don’t even notice when the older males stand up and leave the table to go to the bathroom.
“Look, just what the heck are you trying to achieve?” Chuuya says. He releases his grip on Dazai’s arm.
“I told you. The two are going to be the shin Soukoku.”
Chuuya’s lip twitches.
“I get that the two have a lot of potential going on for them, but don’t you see the circumstances we’re in?”
“We worked together against Lovecraft. Chuuya, the agency members can work with mafia members even if the two companies don’t form official alliances. We just need a common enemy again.”
“You’ve gotten stupider, Dazai. The Guild is gone. Besides.” Chuuya leans closer, pressing Dazai againt the bathroom wall. “You know better than anyone that mafia members hold grudges. And we hold them good.”
“Didn’t stop you from working with me though,” Dazai taunts, tilting his head to a side.
“It was that or defeat. I’d rather bear with you and harass you ten times as hard later.”
The bathroom door opens. Akutagawa looks at the position the two older males is in, flushes deeply, then drags a hunched over, half-sobbing man into one of the stalls. Chuuya backs away from Dazai immediately, hands reaching up to fix his hat.
“Hmm, seems like Atsushi doesn’t have a good tolerance,” the bandage freak notes as gagging noises fill the bathroom.
“What did you give them?”
“Stuff strong enough to knock you out just with its smell.”
Chuuya glowers at the tease. He wants to throw Dazai against the wall and break his jaw.
“Aw Chuuya, don’t look at me like that. Here I’ll make it better.”
Dazai leans in to kiss Chuuya’s forehead gently. The shorter male stumbles back, surprised. He shoves Dazai lightly before realizing—god, of course. Dazai is drunk off his head. Chuuya has forgotten that his partner acts pretty normal even when he’s terribly intoxicated. He can look like he still knows exactly what he’s doing (and maybe he does, really) and nobody really doubts that he’s got his shit together. But sometimes, he does slip up, takes things a little too far, crosses a line he wouldn’t sober. A small smile appears on his face as Chuuya thinks back to such occasions. The rare times when he can truly embarrass Dazai over later.
“You’re drunk, aren’t you, shitty Dazai?”
He scratches his plan to break Dazai’s jaw. Now he just kinda wants to thread his fingers through the other’s black locks, it’s been a while and goddamn the alcohol is catching up with him too, Dazai’s drunk anyway he won’t remember a thing—
“Chuuya can you help me, hic, kick this shitface back to the, hic, table?” Akutagawa calls.
Right. Somehow he’s totally forgotten about the other people in the bathroom despite retching noises in the background. Dazai regards Chuuya pulling back with a pout and a look of disappointment.
“Gotta help out the newbies, you clingy shit, don’t give me that pleading look, it’s gross.”
He makes his way to the stall and takes Atsushi’s other arm, slinging it across his shoulder. He briefly wonders why two mafia members are helping an agency apprentice out, and why Dazai gets to just lean again the bathroom wall casually: doesn’t it make more sense for him to carry Atsushi back? Chuuya narrows his eyes and frowns.
“Thanks guys,” Dazai says, following the three out of the bathroom.
To Chuuya’s surprise, they walk back to the two tables pushed together forming a larger long table. Fukuzawa looks like he’s exchanging words of wisdom with Mori. Tachihara is relentlessly bullying a Tanizaki, though the latter looks like he’s enjoying the teasing jabs (what a masochist, first Naomi and now Tachihara). Kouyou is talking to Kyouka under Yosano’s watchful eye, while Naomi seems to be having a good time talking to Gin about brothers. Kenji, Elise and Yumeno are fawning over each other’s drawings, with Hirotsu watching them in case Yumeno decides to try anything. Honestly, Chuuya still disapproves of letting Q out of confinement when his ability is very much still active, but Mori paid no attention to his complaints. He stares at the trio warily, until Dazai shoves him to keep on walking.
“What happened?” Chuuya whispers.
Dazai shrugs. Atsushi is heaved into his seat, but the return of the four barely disturbed the lively chatter at the table.
“Wonder what, hic, got Mori to change his mind about the agency,” Akutagawa mutters before slipping into his seat.
“Alcohol helps with a lot of things,” a waiter pipes in helpfully. His speech is heavily accented and the man sounds terribly sleepy. Chuuya gives him a once-over. Long, dark messy hair shrouds his face and Chuuya feels very nervous all of a sudden.
“Sure.”
He takes his seat and watches Dazai do the same. The stupid guy is too drunk to notice the fishiness of this all, or if he did, chose not to discuss it. Deciding to push the matter to the back of his mind too, Chuuya turns to Dazai.
“So, when’s training going to start?”
Dazai grins. “Why?”
“Well, you can’t just train shin Soukoku with only one member of the original duo, right?”
“Aww Chuuya, you’re getting nicer every day!”
“You’re just drunk, Dazai.”