Chapter Text
Nakahara Chuuya is a powerful gravity-manipulating ability user.
He has a slim figure and plenty of muscle to throw a good punch, even without his ability to enhance his attacks.
He’s an executive in the port mafia, one of the highest-standing men in the entire organization. Respected by most, but also feared. Recognized by his bright red hair and his striking blue eyes.
If the people of the mafia didn’t know better, then they’d openly think that he was attractive. However, in the past, when a mafia member confessed their feelings toward him, that person's body was found with four bullet wounds and broken bones.
No one questioned who killed them, though they definitely thought it.
He lived in a top-floor penthouse in a rich district of the city, with a view of Yokohama’s skyline visible from his living room. A kitchen with counters that cost as much as what normal citizens make in a yearly salary.
A bed with the plushest mattress money could buy, anyone would sell their soul to live a life of luxury like he has been for the last six years, since he started getting these paychecks.
But everything isn’t always as it seems.
The front door was slammed shut, and shoes were discarded carelessly by the door. Chuuya let out a loud groan, plucking his hat off his head and placing it and his coat on the coat rack.
He clenched his teeth, not bothering to look out at the setting sun that anyone would die to watch every evening.
The redhead tossed his bag onto the floor when he finally got into his bedroom. These were one of the nights that he didn’t want to do anything other than take a long ass shower and get in bed and pass out.
He’d just gotten back from a week-long mission abroad, and he was wiped. The mission took longer than anticipated, and he’d gotten a few days off from missions and paperwork, thankfully. So he could just try to enjoy himself and not deal with any infuriating business dealings and tense negotiations that could go south with one wrong word.
Pushing the bathroom door open with a bit more force than necessary, he turned on his fancy shower. The heat enveloped the room after a few moments, and Chuuya let out a sigh, starting to strip off his remaining clothing before he paused in front of the mirror while unbuttoning his white undershirt.
What stared back at him didn’t look human; it looked like a feral beast, inhumane. The reflection's eyes were wide, and its lips were pressed into a grin, curling at the ends like it’d seen the funniest thing in the world.
His breath hitched when he laid eyes on the corruption markings on its neck and arms. Chuuya slapped a hand on his arm, rolling up his sleeve, and looked down, nothing, just old scars and clean skin.
But he didn’t let out a breath of relief quite yet, shakily lifting his head to the mirror again; his breath hitched again when he saw one of the reflections' eyes was red. No- he didn’t have a red eye, he was wearing his contact.
The mafioso’s breath picked up, anxiety spiking to a new high. His knees felt weak, and there was no one but himself to catch him from falling to the floor.
“You’re pathetic.”
The voice spat it, and it felt like it was right next to his ear. He snapped his head toward where he heard it, but there was no one there.
When Chuuya looked up at the mirror again, he saw the figure standing still. Not hunched down like he was, as if it were its own person as a whole.
Chuuya clenched his teeth again, forcing himself up and into a straight position. “..You don’t know shit, asshole…”
The reflection's lips formed into a grin, devilish and unforgiving.
“Don’t I? I’ve been a part of you for as long as you remember your pathetic life. I know you inside out, Chuuya-kun. You’re just my vessel, what a pathetic thought to think that you are human.”
Chuuya’s eyes snapped up to the mirror, his hands gripped the sink with enough force to shatter the countertop.
He wanted to retaliate, claim that he was human. There was proof of his life before the memories he withheld inside his memory. But it was getting harder and harder to believe himself as days passed.
Arahabaki’s expression shifted into something cruel, like he knew how to crawl right under Chuuya’s skin and make him snap.
“You look anything but human, so how could you ever think that you were one of them? Like you belong where you are? You’re nothing but a toy at my disposal.”
Chuuya snapped, baling his hand into a fist and punching the mirror with enough force to rattle the walls. Breathing sharply when he felt warm blood on his knuckles, where the glass shards had scattered.
He didn’t feel it, not really.
The mirror was in pieces, and he looked like a jigsaw inside it. It was him this time, no marks, no red eye. Just… His broken self.
He could see the acne on his forehead and neck from stress, his flat lips, not plump enough.
The redhead hastily unbuttoned his white top, staining it with the blood on his hand in the process. Grimacing when he felt the pain start to settle in, he opened his hand. Some glass shards were still pressed painfully into his skin, he growled softly. Plucking the big shards out and tossing them into the sink to deal with later.
Finally, he was able to get into the shower in silence after undressing fully and getting tiny pieces of glass out of his fist. It still hurt, and it stung even worse when the water touched the wounds. He’s been through worse; he could do this. It was just a few(a lot of) fucking cuts; he wasn’t an infant.
He started washing himself, his hair going flat under the water pressure. When he reached the curve of his waist, he realized it wasn’t as slim as it usually was; he’d put on some weight. His arms were slimmer than they usually were, too…
Scrunching his nose, he quickened his pace. He wasn’t going to have as long a shower as he’d hoped, it seemed.
Chuuya got out of the shower fifteen minutes later, dressed in a simple white t-shirt and black shorts, his hair still damp. When he walked into the bedroom, he stared at his bed, gaze flickering to one side. It felt too big to sleep in alone, cold, empty.
The mafioso grabbed his medkit from one of his night tables, sitting on his bed, and grabbed the roll of bandages from it. He ignored how they were the comfortable kind and not the scratchy ones that usually came with kits like these. He didn’t want to acknowledge it, not right now, not ever.
He fastened the bandages on his fist, making sure they wouldn’t move too much. It wasn’t exactly treated properly, but it would do for now, he supposed.
Chuuya got up and put the kit away. He debated eating dinner, but eventually decided against it. He lost his appetite, so he’d just sleep.
—-
It had been a full day since he got back, and he ended up staying in bed all day after that. It was Sunday now, and he got back Friday night. Sighing, he threw the covers off himself and got up. Stumbling for a moment, forcing him to use his ability to keep himself steady on his feet.
“..Goddammit…”
He groaned, scrunching his nose before he walked out of his bedroom and into the kitchen. The tile was cold on his bare feet; he didn’t mind it too much. Instead, he padded over to the coffee maker.
Usually, he didn’t drink coffee, but today was one of those days when he was mentally exhausted.
Plus, he needed the energy if he was going to go out and shop to get his mind off everything.
He’d invite Kouyou, but she’s on a mission, and the Akutagawas have training. So he has to go on his own, unfortunately.
Chuuya turned on the coffee machine, grabbed one of the caffeine pods, and put it into the machine. Grabbing one of the hanging mugs with his ability, and set it down on the designated area where the coffee would pour out.
Promptly fetching a pitcher and turning the faucet on to fill it was water from the sink. Wincing the smallest amount when it got heavy to hold for his injured hand.
Activating his ability to pour it into the correct spot, pressing down the lifted part, and thus starting to have the coffee brew.
After drinking his well-deserved coffee, a few minutes later, he was a bit more awake, but not by much. He got into clean clothes with only minimal struggle from the sharp pain in his hand when he moved it at an odd angle.
The redhead settled for a gray turtleneck, a dry-cleaned white dress shirt underneath, and a pair of soft black wide-legged pants. The sleeves only went down to right at his wrists, and he was acutely aware of how exposed his bandaged fist was.
Biting his lip, he grabbed his black gloves from his dresser and slipped one on and shimmied the other onto his other hand, wincing the smallest bit at how it restricted his movement in the bandages.
The top of the bandages still peeked out from the top, and his left hand looked more bulky under the glove compared to his right hand, but they worked. It drew less attention to them, at least.
He collected his wallet and phone before leaving, and he opted to just walk to the shopping district. It wasn’t far, and he didn’t feel like he wanted to grip a steering wheel or his motorcycle's handles.
The sun beat down on everyone who was on the streets, but it wasn’t hot, thankfully. Since it was mid-fall and it tended to be colder during late October, he was fine to wear a few layers. He ran naturally cold, and he had to convince Kouyou for years that he was fine.
Although he hasn’t told anyone about his waking terrors with Arahabaki.
He’s afraid Kouyou might keep him on strict watch, and he most definitely does not want that.
When his stupid mackerel of a partner was still in the mafia, he ended up having one and smashing the mirror in his room.
The bastard ended up breaking into his apartment that same night, Chuuya barely managed to cover up the scene before the brunet picked the lock on his bedroom door and found him in bed with all lights off in the room.
Chuuya couldn’t shake away the feeling of Dazai brushing a strand of hair from his cheek for weeks afterward. Avoided him for almost 2 weeks before Dazai ended up catching him running away from work to hide away somewhere.
It was odd for the brunet to care so immensely what he was up to. Chuuya told him to fuck off and walked off. But that was that, he didn’t follow him, but their encounters were so awkward for the weeks after that Mori even questioned it.
Chuuya just told him that Dazai pissed him off again, and the bastard was just being an overdramatic idiot again.
Mori dismissed him, but even Chuuya could tell that he didn’t believe a word he said.
Upon looking up again, Chuuya realized he’d arrived at the mall.
Sighing, he went inside and tried dismissing the thoughts of his ex-partner from his mind. The natural chattering and noises inside the mall drowned most of them out. But a few stuck even after.
He walked for a while, passing by a few stores he recognized. Even blinking up at his favorite wine store and deciding not to get any new bottles for his collection, usually someone would have to hold him back.
His feet stopped outside a store that closed down 5 years ago; it used to be a video game store. You could get all sorts of games and even stuffed animals. Chuuya got a mackerel plush once and gifted it to that bastard for his 16th birthday by leaving it on his desk with a ribbon tied on it.
He shook his head and tore his eyes away from the store, deciding to go to a store that sold some jewelry and just stood and looked at the assortment of shiny items through the display.
It took his mind off everything for the most part, drowning out the background noise of Arahabaki’s deprecating whispers and any other unwelcome thoughts in the process.
Eventually, he decided to buy a set of earrings, about to check out with the cashier, when his eyes caught sight of a pair of matching rings.
They were sterling silver and had swirly patterns around the edges. A blue sapphire stone sat in the middle of one, while the other had a ruby in the center. They were… Only to be described as beautiful, really. He couldn’t even think of another word; that was it.
“How much are those?”
He barely processed his words before he’d said them. The cashier behind the counter was an older woman, and the smile that graced her lips was nothing short of fond.
“Ah, that is a set we recently got in stock. They have a real sapphire and ruby in the center, and a fun fact is that there’s a sliver of the other stone inside the other one. Beautiful pieces, it’s a shame that no one buys them once they find out the price. It’s just far out of everyone's budget these days.”
Chuuya blinked, taking off his right glove, briefly asking for permission before he picked up the blue one and slipped it onto each of his fingers. Somehow, it fit close to perfectly on his ring finger.
He usually wasn’t one to buy jewelry for himself, but these, for some reason, called to him. He wouldn’t question it; that was a road he’d cross once he got to it.
“I’ll take them.” He looked up and said it; the shock on the woman’s face was evident for a moment before her shock morphed into a smile.
“Very well, then. Let me bag these up for you.”
Chuuya left that store with an odd fluttery feeling in his chest. He clutched the bag in his hand a bit tighter than before.
He also didn’t know why he had the red one sized to fit a size that wasn’t his.
-
As the minutes passed, the mall slowly started to get less busy, but it didn’t help with the white noise. He’d gotten more than one person staring at him when he accidentally snapped at Arahabaki out loud. Embarrassing as fuck, but he just apologized and kept walking, unsure of his destination.
He stopped at another store, which was a store with all kinds of clothes. Brushing past the sections, he paused by the hoodies and picked one of them up. It was black and had a couple of small symbols on the front. He put it over his arm and kept looking around.
In a corner of the store, clothing accessories were abundant, ranging from chokers and ties to gloves and headbands. Something immediately caught his eye, and it was like that damn bastard was haunting him.
It was a bolo tie, almost identical, just a different stone.
He scoffed, picking up and finding that the one behind it had an alexandrite in the middle. His birthstone.
Chuuya scrunched his nose a bit and put the other one down and picked up the one that was under it. Walking a bit faster than he should’ve been to the checkout, paying with only a few words exchanged with the cashier.
Somehow, this shopping trip made his thoughts spiral even more. He should just go back to his apartment and crash. Why was Arahabaki so keen on making his life miserable? Don’t ask him, he doesn’t have a clue.
His left hand balled into a fist; he internally winced, loosening his grasp.
In, out. Get a fucking grip, Chuuya!
He pressed his lips into a thin line, walking past a group of people; he didn’t bother to look up and see who they were.
He felt eyes on him briefly, but that wasn’t anything new, so he just walked toward the exit of the mall with his head low.
Some company of friends or colleagues may have helped him from spiraling down deeper into his thoughts.
—
It felt like he blinked, and he was in the elevator going up to his penthouse. The walk wasn’t terrible; it turned dark by the time he remembered letting his mind back into earth. There was this lingering feeling in his chest. A tightness that he couldn’t get rid of.
Chuuya stepped out of the elevator, walking the exact number of steps he would take to get to his apartment door every day. Fishing his keys out of his pocket, he turned them in the lock and pushed the door open.
Tossing the keys on the table, he let out a loud sigh. Running his hand through his hair before dropping his shopping bags on the island. He leaned on the counter and closed his eyes. The pressure barely ceased, his thoughts were jumbled, and he barely processed the creak of his floors and the sliding of fabric against the cushion of his barstool.
The apartment was dark; he always had the main lights off because his eyes were so sensitive. There was the light above the kitchen sink and a lamp in the living room, but nothing else.
So when he opened his eyes and was met with the dimly illuminated figure whom his body had been subconsciously yearning for, he couldn’t help but clench his teeth.
“...What are you doing here, Dazai..”
His voice came out more throaty than he meant for it to, but it only earned a hum in response. Arms stretched across the counter, barely short of touching his elbows with his fingertips. Chuuya could almost feel the chill of No Longer Human against his skin, the one thing that would rid his mind of this unwelcome torture that is his head.
“Oh, nothing. Just thought I’d pay my dog a visit since he is clearly feeling withdrawn without his owner there to take care of him.”
Chuuya let out a low growl, fingers clutching the edge of his sleeve down to cover the end of his glove as if it would do anything.
“Well, I’m fine… You can leave.”
Dazai’s eyes flickered; Chuuya could barely see the way they shifted over his form before returning to his face.
No retort on the dog jokes… Odd.
“Nah~ I'd rather stick around just in case.”
The “You do somethin’ stupid” was left unsaid, but it still made Chuuya’s chest tighten.
“I’m fine.”
“Since when did you become so bad at lying?”
“I’m fine…”
“You look like shit.”
“I know, fuck off.”
“Nope!~”
Chuuya let out a soft growl and slammed his hand on the counter, causing Dazai to sit up and stare at him. His observant ass most definitely noticed how he shivered when it hit the counter, how he clenched his teeth a bit tighter when his fingers tightened around the edge.
“..Chuuya.”
The redhead stood up straight and started pacing around the kitchen, his hands going up and clenching helplessly at his hair.
“Chuuya…”
He didn’t get a response; his brows furrowed in turn while he got up from his barstool. Walking over to Chuuya and placing a hand right above his shoulder, not quite touching, repeating his name one more time.
“Chuuya.”
That caused the shorter’s eyes to shoot up, a flinch wracking through his entire body as if he’d just come back to reality.
“What!?”
Dazai didn’t steer away; his eyes just softened against his will. Finally, he placed his hand firmly on the redhead’s shoulder. His grip tightened enough to ensure that Chuuya wouldn’t be able to back away from it.
Dazai cursed under his breath when Chuuya’s knees buckled under his touch and caused him to sway until he fell into his chest after he secured him.
The brunet held an arm securely around his waist, Chuuya’s hand only tightened its grasp on his shoulder. It wasn’t as painful as it usually would’ve been, most likely due to the bandages that were purposely concealed under his glove.
“..Chuu…” The taller hoisted him up, placing his hands under the man’s thighs. Chuuya’s legs instinctively wrapped around Dazai’s waist after a moment of hesitation.
The man carried him easily out of the kitchen, adjusting his grip to open the door to his bedroom. Nudging it closed again after he was inside, placing the redhead down on his bed in the pitch black room.
When he was about to pull away and go into the connecting bathroom to grab some painkillers, he became painfully aware of how tight Chuuya’s grip became. “..Don’t.”
“I need to get something to get rid of that headache of yours, let me go.”
“..Just… ..I’m fine.. Later…”
Dazai let out a sigh, eventually caving and laid down beside the redhead. Carding his fingers through the tangles in his hair to soothe him at least a little. Not once letting him go, Dazai had a feeling that it had something to do with the god living inside him. He just had no idea what Arahabaki had to do with it.
Chuuya stared blankly toward the door, unconsciously leaning into the gentle caress on his hair.
They communicated quietly. Dazai, silently tightening his grip, was enough to say without words that he wasn’t leaving anytime soon.
“So…”
“Shut it.”
They sat in silence after that; the smaller man clearly didn’t want to talk right now. Though that might be because his eyes were drooping in his attempts at staying awake.
“..You can sleep, I’m right here. I’ll keep him away for a while.”
That briefly made his breath hitch, his heart pounded loudly against his chest, and he was certain that the brunet heard it.
“Just rest.” Chuuya could hear the grin on his lips against his hair, and a part of him wanted to hate it, to push the brunet away, and to tell him to fuck off. But he just… Couldn’t, it’s like even his rational self had given in to the fact that he needed this rest.
Hesitantly, the redhead released his grip from the man’s wrist, giving him a warning glare before he shut his eyes.
As though a wave washed over him, Chuuya fell asleep. It was fragile, but it would last long enough. Enough to where Chuuya could maybe function again, at least.