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“Stupid slug! What the hell was that?”
Chuuya sucks his teeth, then spits off to the side, barely missing one of many corpses lying in pools of blood. “Stop yer bitchin’, you’re fine right?”
Dazai points to his arm hanging at an unnatural angle, face nearly purple from anger. “I guess my broken arm doesn’t count then!?”
Chuuya flinches but recovers quickly and looks away. “I couldn’t help it; it was a part of my plan.”
“You obviously have hats for brains if you thought that was an acceptable plan!” His arm moves and he gasps, holding it with the other. “Fuck, I hate pain! I’ll get you for this, you tiny slug.”
“Tch, like to see you try, fucking fish eyes!”
The two argue like cats and dogs all the way back to the pickup point and throughout the drive back. From the moment the two teens bring their screamfest into the mafia car, its mailman pulls up the privacy window and starts the engine with a sigh.
They only stop once they reach the hallway leading up to Mori’s office. There are two guards posted right in front of the massive office doors. Their faces are impassive but they’re elite and can instantly switch to murder mode if there’s even a whiff of threat to the Boss.
Dazai takes a deep breath, centering himself as he cradles his broken arm. Chuuya shifts from foot to foot as if warming up for a battle. They approach and the guards open the double doors, then they enter.
Mori is perusing over paperwork when the pair finally enters. He raises an eyebrow upon seeing Dazai holding his arm. “I assume the mission went well?”
“Naturally.” And Dazai gives a truncated version of events, including the execution of his successful strategy. Then he rolls his eyes. “Except when this stupid dog broke free from his leash and attempted his own inane plan.”
“Hah? Don’t call me a fuckin’ dog, asshole! And my plan worked just fine; you’re pissed that someone outdid you for once.”
“Then pray tell, explain what your brilliant strategy was to the audience.” And he gestures to Mori, who’s been giving this exchange his rapt attention. Elise is in the corner coloring, paying the teens no mind.
Chuuya scoffs at Dazai but straightens his spine once he faces Mori. “There was an Ability user with powers similar to me. Couldn’t rely on mine, at least not directly.”
“Or it would result in a Singularity, I assume?” Mori fills in and Chuuya nods.
“And he was pretty large and hardy too. Had to take him out in one good hit without gravity, so I needed to build momentum.”
Dazai interrupts with an obnoxious whine and wilts. “He used me as cover Mori-san! That annoying chibi broke my arm.”
“Don’t call me small, fucker!”
“Then don’t break my arm, chibi!”
The post-mission report completely breaks down into another screaming fest, until Mori stands with a sigh and ferries them out his office. “Please turn in your report by tomorrow afternoon. Also, make sure you have your arm checked out Dazai-kun.”
“Only if they give me some hydrochloric acid to drink first.” The door slamming behind them is his answer.
Chuuya and Dazai stand in the hallway once again, with awkward silence between them and the guards.
Chuuya’s face scrunches up, then he sighs and takes his hands out of his pockets. “Hey, shitty mackerel.”
Dazai hums but makes no other move to speak.
“I’m, uh. Sorry…about your arm.” He scratches his chin and scuffs the ground with the tip of his boot.
Dazai’s head whips to him, eyes slightly wide before they narrow. “Did you hit your head?”
“I’m fucking apologizing, dimwit. Like what normal people do.”
Dazai huffs a laugh. “If you haven’t noticed, we are not exactly normal.” He walks ahead and Chuuya trails behind him.
Just before they reach the elevator, Dazai groans and pivots to face his partner. “It’s fine by the way. I don’t want you to fill your tiny skull with useless thoughts and worries. You’ll end up even shorter than before.”
Chuuya sucks his teeth again and stomps forward, hitting the call button for the elevator. “Last time I show you kindness, you bastard.”
Despite everything, the way back is almost peaceful between them.