Work Text:
Chuuya wasn’t supposed to be here.
That was the thought repeating in his head as he stood in the hallway outside the unused storage room on the lower floor of the Port Mafia building—the one no one bothered with anymore. Mori had dismissed them early. Dazai had vanished like he always did. And Chuuya, restless and irritated in the way that came from knowing something was wrong but not knowing why, had followed that feeling.
The door was cracked open.
At first, Chuuya thought the room was empty. Dim light filtered in through a narrow window, dust hanging in the air like it always did. Then he heard it.
A sharp inhale.
A breath held too long.
Then a shaky exhale that sounded like it hurt.
“Dazai?” Chuuya said quietly, already stepping inside.
The boy was sitting on the floor with his back against the wall, knees drawn up, sleeves pulled down too far for the warm afternoon. His head snapped up at the sound of Chuuya’s voice, eyes wide—startled, almost guilty.
“Oh,” Dazai said, forcing a lazy smile that didn’t reach his eyes. “Didn’t think you’d come looking for me, Chibi.”
Chuuya didn’t rise to the bait.
His gaze dropped—noticing the tension in Dazai’s shoulders, the way his hands trembled slightly as he shoved them beneath his arms, the faint redness peeking from beneath the bandages that were never supposed to be there.
Something in Chuuya’s chest went tight.
“…What are you doing?” he asked, softer now.
Dazai shrugged, looking away. “Nothing important.”
Chuuya crossed the room in three strides.
“Bullshit.”
He crouched in front of Dazai, ignoring the way the other boy flinched at the sudden closeness. Chuuya reached out—not touching yet, just hovering.
“Dazai,” he said again, slower. “Look at me.”
Dazai didn’t want to.
But eventually, he did.
And that’s when Chuuya saw it—the exhaustion carved deep into Dazai’s eyes, the hollow look of someone who had been fighting their own thoughts for too long and losing.
Chuuya swallowed hard.
“…Did you hurt yourself?”
The silence that followed was answer enough.
Dazai’s mouth twisted. “It’s stupid,” he muttered. “I told myself I wouldn’t. I just—” He cut himself off with a humorless laugh. “Guess I failed again.”
Chuuya’s hands curled into fists at his sides—not in anger at Dazai, but at the idea that anyone had ever made him feel like this was what he deserved.
“You didn’t fail,” Chuuya said immediately.
Dazai blinked. “What?”
“You didn’t fail,” Chuuya repeated, voice firm. “You’re still here. That counts for something.”
Dazai stared at him like he’d spoken in a language he didn’t understand.
“…It doesn’t stop,” Dazai admitted quietly. “The thoughts. They don’t shut up. And sometimes this is the only thing that makes them go quiet, even for a minute.”
Chuuya’s throat tightened.
He didn’t pretend to fully understand—but he understood pain. He understood drowning in it.
Slowly, carefully, Chuuya reached out and took Dazai’s wrist—not forcing, not pulling. Just holding.
“You don’t have to go through that alone,” he said. “Not anymore.”
Dazai laughed weakly. “You say that like you’re planning on sticking around.”
Chuuya’s grip tightened just a little.
“Yeah,” he said. “I am.”
The room was quiet except for their breathing.
“…Can I see?” Chuuya asked gently.
Dazai hesitated, then nodded. He rolled his sleeve up just enough—not enough to show details, but enough for Chuuya to understand the seriousness of it.
Chuuya didn’t look away.
Instead, he stood up, shrugged off his coat, and draped it over Dazai’s shoulders.
“You’re cold,” he said.
“I’m not—”
“Shut up,” Chuuya replied, but there was no heat in it. “You are.”
He sat down beside Dazai, close enough that their shoulders touched.
“You don’t have to explain everything right now,” Chuuya continued. “We can just… sit. Breathe. I’ll stay.”
Dazai’s voice came out barely above a whisper.
“…You won’t get tired of me?”
Chuuya scoffed softly. “You’re annoying as hell. But no.”
After a long moment, Dazai leaned—just slightly—into Chuuya’s shoulder.
Chuuya froze for half a second, then relaxed.
He stayed.
——————————————————-
Chuuya was the first to move.
“Come on,” he said gently, standing and offering his hand. “You’re not staying here.”
Dazai blinked up at him. “Where am I supposed to go?”
Chuuya didn’t hesitate. “My place.”
Dazai stared. “Your—”
“My place,” Chuuya repeated. “I’ve got a couch. A bed. Food. And you’re not gonna be alone tonight.”
Dazai looked like he wanted to argue. Then his shoulders sagged.
“…Okay,” he whispered.
The walk was quiet. Chuuya kept close, not crowding but not leaving space either. When they got inside Chuuya’s apartment, the warm lights and familiar smell of detergent and coffee wrapped around them like a shield.
“Sit,” Chuuya ordered softly, guiding Dazai to the couch.
He disappeared into the bathroom and came back with a small first-aid kit. He knelt in front of Dazai again, movements careful and respectful.
“I’m not mad,” Chuuya said, as if reading the tension in Dazai’s body. “I just wanna help.”
Dazai nodded.
Chuuya handled the aftercare quietly—gentle, focused, hands steady. He didn’t rush. Didn’t scold. Didn’t ask questions Dazai wasn’t ready to answer.
“There,” he murmured when he finished. “All clean.”
Dazai’s eyes were glossy, but he smiled faintly. “You’re weirdly good at this.”
Chuuya snorted. “Don’t make it weird.”
Afterward, Chuuya shoved a bag of snacks into Dazai’s hands—chips, chocolate, something sweet.
“You need to eat,” he said. “Doctor Chuuya’s orders.”
Dazai laughed softly, actually laughed, and obeyed.
By the time they ended up in Chuuya’s bed, the world felt quieter.
Chuuya hesitated only a second before pulling the blankets up and settling beside him. Dazai curled in almost instinctively, pressing close, forehead tucked under Chuuya’s chin.
Chuuya wrapped an arm around him.
“You okay with this?” he asked quietly.
Dazai nodded. “Yeah. I… like it.”
Chuuya held him a little tighter.
They lay there in the dark, breathing together, the steady rhythm grounding and warm. Dazai’s grip on Chuuya’s shirt loosened as sleep slowly claimed him.
Just before he drifted off, Dazai whispered,
“…Thank you for staying.”
Chuuya didn’t answer out loud.
He just stayed.