Chapter Text
Odasaku's dead. Odasaku. Is. Dead.
DeadDeadDeadDeadDeadDeadDeadDeadDeadDeadDead— The words repeat, over and over and over in his head. What now? What does one do in this situation ?
His friend asked him to be a good man, to protect the innocent, to be a man that bathes in the light. He promised Odasaku. He promised.
But how can he just uproot himself from the place he has begrudgingly been living in?
It's not that he'll miss most people, he knows himself many will just smirk and say "Good riddance" once he dissappears, but the familiarity of it all will be hard to unstick himself from. New places, new people, new masks to be created to protect himself? It sounds awful, and particularly uncomfortable.
Actually, that was a lie. He'll miss some people. He would never admit it to their faces, of course, but his traitorous mind will supply him for months, if not years with thoughts of regret about not saying goodbye, not remaining there.
His slimy partner will most likely be in the centre of his thoughts. Dazai knows he can deny it all he wants, but the fondness he has for the short mafioso runs deep. Painfully so.
Someone as human as Chuuya should never be burdened with the disgusting notion of the demon prodigy holding any sort of affection for them. That's what Dazai has been telling himself for the past 2 years now.
But now, he feels bile coming up his throat every time he thinks of leaving his other half in this hellhole. Even so, he can't take Chuuya away from here. He already did that once, back when they were fifteen. He didn't save Chuuya back then, he's sure of it now. Otherwise, he, himself,wouldn't be fleeing from the place he dragged the other in. If anything, how can Dazai know the next place he wants to bring Chuuya into, the light side of society, won't burn the mafioso more?
Both of them have been raised in the unforgiving cold and bloody mafia. Chuuya, while blackened by this wretched organisation, has friends and family here. Ane-san, Hirotsu-san, Gin, Akutagawa,...even Mori, though Dazai wouldn't agree that man deserves any family or loyalty, let alone someone like Chuuya.
Alas, the heart wants what it wants, is what Odasaku told him once. Is it true? His treacherous heart wants to bring Chuuya to his demise once again. He wants to grab his hand and never let go, bring him with him everywhere and anywhere. Any place felt better than here. Every place would feel better with him there.
But no, his mind supplies coldly. It won't do. Be rational.
So, he makes a compromise. He won't bring all of Chuuya, just a tiny piece of him that he won't miss. An insignificant thing for the redhead, but something that'll mean the world to Dazai.
---
Hours later, having scrubbed his skin raw in an attempt to wipe his memories of the very same night, Dazai stands in front of Chuuya's door. He hesitates, yet he ultimately knocks.
Silence stretches for seconds, making Dazai spiral back into depressing thoughts he has tried to keep at bay. Then, the door opens, and his mind silences once more.
Chuuya stands there, rubbing at his eyes, sleepy and not fully focused. Dazai knows he's supposed to leave tomorrow morning on a week-long mission in France. It explains the bedhead and the crumpled,red silk pyjamas.
"What now? You've come to replace all my wine with vinegar again? Or did you need another singular grape from my fridge?" asks Chuuya, voice hoarse, yet not biting.
"None of the sort, Chibikko! " Dazai smiles wide, hiding his shaking hands behind his back as he swings on the balls of his feet. "I've come with a great request! Simple, really!" he exclaims.
Chuuya groans, running a hand through his messy hair. "Well? What is it? You know I need to leave early and-"
Feeling slightly bold, the brunet gently reaches and holds the shoulder length hair Chuuya has grown over the past few years since they've known each other. "A lock of your hair.
Then, as if a spell was broken, he lets go just as quickly, feeling like he dirtied the boy before him with the blood of his best friend.
Chuuya, although he notices, doesn't comment. "Haaa?!..." He seems to sober up a notch. "Why the hell would ya' need that? You doin' voodoo now?
"Nope!" the brunet says with a pop. "Just need evidence of my doggie's fur to show to other people!"
Chuuya blinks, exhausted. " 'Samu, you're so weird." His voice softens, though. "Fine, whatever, only if that means you'll leave me for good. Deal?"
Dazai's eyes tighten as he smiles. "Pinky promise! Swear on Mori's bald spot!"
Chuuya relents, nodding for the other to come inside as he turns his back to him, heading to the kitchen.Then, he turns around, mouth agape, as the brunet's words register.
"I KNEW HE HAD A BALD SPOT!-"
Dazai simply stares at him, a warm feeling in his chest as the other rambles about the mildly obvious spot of hair that has a slightly different shade of colour. Extensions, he says.
Rambling on, Chuuya proceeds to grab scissors from a drawer, cutting a lock of ginger hair and shoving it in Dazai's face, startling the other from his maladaptive state. "Here! Go, now! You've destroyed my sleep schedule." He rubs the skin under his eyes. "Now I'll have dark circles tomorrow..."
Dazai smiles. "As promised, I'll leave!" He heads for the door under the expectant gaze of the other. Yet he lingers in the space between the apartment and the hallway for a few seconds, taking one more look at blue eyes. "Goodbye, Chuuya. Sleep well."
"Bye, shitty Dazai...You too." says Chuuya, starting to head back to his bedroom.
The door behind him closes before he gets to the door. Weird, he thinks, but not too unusual for the stinky Mackerel, no?
It will be only tomorrow, when he learns about the news of Dazai's defection, that the odd way the man behaved last night wasn't his regular shit.
How he wishes he'd asked more questions.
---
The concept of time is so odd, Dazai thinks. He swears, he was merely 18 yesterday.
But now? He's 22. He never deemed the need to think about the future, or what it may entail, for years. He didn't expect to live this long.
Alas, the Agency, his new friends, his family, keep him shockingly healthy, despite his protests.
Especially Kunikida, that new partner of his, with his uptight schedule and millions of ideals. What a funny thing, but the other reminds him of Chuuya every so often, whenever the other yells at him about taking care of himself.
Like right now, Kunikida is lecturing him about an insignificant topic, his sweets addiction. But what can one do? They're addicting, as the name suggests. He only realises he's clutching his pendant when he runs out the door, fleeing from Kunikida's nagging.
He takes the pendant off when he's finally hidden in a small hallway next to the archive room, turning it over. On the back of it, there is a small latch that he undoes. Inside, the small piece of his other half remains. The strands are slightly frayed, as Dazai fiddles with them ever so often, a baby blue ribbon holding them together.
"You would like Kunikida, Chibi." he says, petting the strands softly.
"Who's Chibi?" asks suddenly a voice from behind him.
Taken by surprise for once,Dazai startles. Just then, he remembers what he's holding, hurrying to put everything back, but Atsushi still catches a glimpse. Shit.
"No one, really. Just my old doggie."
"You had a dog, Dazai-san? Did he die? Is that his fur?"
He can see as Atsushi's eyebrows knit with worry. Oh, this stupid and kind boy, worrying when he doesn't even know the full story. How touching, indeed. Just like...someone else he knew.
"No, not dead. Just lost, don't worry." says Dazai smiling, as he pats the younger man's head.
"Oh... but-"
He doesn't get to finish his sentence though, as Dazai says his goodbyes quickly, and feigns a sudden desperate need for coffee as he rushes on the stairs to the cafè.
Left behind, Atsushi starts to brew a plan to reunite Dazai-san and his dog, Chibi. He must ask Kenji and Kyouka for help!