Chapter Text
It had been a while now, and things were finally starting to settle in Yokohama again. Fyodor had finally been defeated with the help of the Armed Detective Agency, the Port Mafia, the Guild, the Hunting Dogs, and even the special division for unusual powers, which contributed in the end to finishing Fyodor off for good.
After all the effects of the vampirism spread by Bram Stoker had officially ceased, allowing everyone who helped aid them in saving the city, and rather the rest of the world from destruction. Considering Dostoevsky desired to get rid of all ability users, this concerned not only Japan, but multiple other countries as well. So it was truly a blessing that the guild showed up and helped the agency as well as the mafia in fighting him off without him reincarnating again with the help of his very own ability.
That guy, along with his… Friend, Nikolai, were sure some nutcases. But thankfully, they had the power and the strategists to deal with him. Even if it required them to ship Dazai, one of the only people who could rival his intellect into prison with Dostoevsky.
Though far away from Japan, where the main battle ended up taking place, they managed to get a spy in over there to join in on whatever sick game they ended up playing with poison.
It’s been a few weeks since the battle ended, about 2 and a half months. And whatever places got destroyed or heavily damaged in the aftermath of their battles were in the process of being repaired. Mainly, the airport, where they finally finished him off after playing cat and mouse for hours.
Finally, the agency got a rest from all of the legal problems and battles. Their names were cleared after the general public found out the truth of who the true terrorists were and that they had been framed because of an unknown ability. (They didn’t disclose that it was a book that could alter the past and future, because that could once again lure another big threat out.)
—
Dazai leaned back in his office chair, letting out a lazy sigh. Even after all of that, Kunikida still made him catch up on the paperwork that he hadn’t done before the conflict rose to the level it had gotten to.
He looked down at his leg, setting his pen down on the desk. His leg had been splinted for hours, he traveled on it, and even ran on it when he realized what Fyodor’s true ability had been afterall. Thankfully, his chibichuu wasn’t actually a vampire and slowed the elevator's fall, preventing the bone from being shattered, only letting it get fractured in like 3 places.
Dazai let out a groan, leaning back in his chair fully, almost knocking it over in the process. That was until Yosano came up behind him, pushing the chair back onto its wheels. “Be careful, with that leg of yours being injured as badly as it is, even a fall like that would hurt like a bitch.” The woman remarked, resting a hand on the brunet’s shoulder. “Ah, but Yosano-sensei~ It’s already completely healed! There’s no need to worry about it anymore!” Dazai grinned, attempting to stand up and prove it, only to be immediately pushed back down on his ass before he could put any pressure on the casted part of his leg.
“Not so fast, you have a crutch for a reason, and I’m not sure anyone here wants to deal with you whining about it hurting for the next hour. I know that I definitely don’t.” Yosano deadpanned, crossing her arms while staring down at her coworker, who was already whining all sorts of complaints before somebody else spoke up, alongside the sound of keys clicking away.
“Dazai! You'd better be listening to Yosano-san and staying off that leg, I only now finally got you to do your paperwork!” Kunikida yelled, actively filling out his own reports from the most recent case that they got from the government about the battles. Dazai only grumbled under his breath, flopping his upper body down on his desk, effectively scattering multiple files in different directions. “But Kunikida! I want to walk normally like all of you.. It’s not fair that you guys get to be fully healed by her immediately, and I’m stuck with a crutch and a broken bone!”
Kunikida and Yosano collectively sighed, the typing finally slowing to a stop with the fact that the blond man had looked toward the brunet who was still slumped on his paper-filled desk. “And you’re smart enough to know that your power cancels out Yosano’s ability, meaning she can’t heal you with it. Look, I’m sorry that you’re unable to do things like you’d be able to before, but it will help if you stay off the leg so that it can heal properly.” Kunikida pushed his glasses up with his middle finger, something akin to pity appearing in his expression.
Dazai’s mood soured further. See, he likes that they care about him and all, but he’s never liked pity when directed toward him. He doesn’t need it, never has, and never will. The agency has been treating him well the entire time that he’s worked here; he thinks that they classify as his friends now, mutual companionship. Afterall, they all seemed worried when he arrived back in Yokohama after coming back from Europe.
Not to mention the bone-crushing hug he got from Yosano as soon as she’d seen him. She was like a big sister to him, always taking care of him, always worrying whenever he’d get hurt. A similar relationship that Chuuya had with Kouyou. Maybe he should invite Ane-san and Yosano to an event sometime so that they could meet outside of a battlefield.
Just then, a door opened and closed, and all three of them looked up to see who had come into the main area, only to see their president, Fukuzawa. “President.” Kunikida stood up, bowing with his head low for a moment before standing up again. “Kunikida, Yosano, Dazai-kun. Could you call your coworkers here? I am aware that Atsushi is on a grocery run for Ranpo right now, but everyone must be here for this.” Everyone looked confused for a moment; this even puzzled Dazai. What could the president need everyone present for? Were they having another meeting? But they should only have a few meetings with the special division next week.
“Ah, right away, president! I’ll just go ahead and call Atsushi-kun and tell him to bring Kyouka-chan and Kenji-kun with him to the office!~ The Tanizaki siblings should be in the cafe downstairs, so he should inform them as well, I presume.” Dazai was already reaching across his desk, managing to get a grasp on his phone, flipping it open so that he could text his mentee the information he just received.
Fukuzawa nodded in approval, turning his attention to Yosano and Kunikida. “I take it you two aren’t having difficulties making sure Dazai-kun doesn’t injure himself further?” The older man asked, eyes soft with a type of care that was only present when something big was about to happen to one of his agency kids. The president may seem cold and indifferent at times, but he truly does care about his workers. They were all like a big happy family, and Dazai managed to fit right into it despite his past. Though Fukuzawa came from the mafia himself, as well as Yosano and Kyouka. So it only made sense that he’d take Dazai under his wing without thinking twice.
“Yes, President. Although he is being quite difficult when it comes to wanting to use his crutch.” Yosano clicked her tongue after she finished speaking, a hand placed on the back of the brunet’s desk chair while he typed away on his phone, seemingly finished talking to Atsushi. So she could only assume that his husband wanted to check in with him.
Yes, Yosano knew about his marriage despite it being a secret. Ranpo knew as well as the president out of everyone in the agency. Ranpo, because he can easily figure out anyone’s secrets without trying much at all. He dropped hints for her, and she gradually figured it out until she saw their wedding pictures when she went over to Dazai’s dorm one time. The president knows because he has all of their filled-out files, including last names. So he obviously figured out before anyone about Soukoku’s secret relationship; it’s sweet, really. The mafioso acts so professionally around everyone but Dazai every time they’ve met him, so nobody really suspects a thing. They act like they hate each other if anything, but every insult, every remark, every punch is filled with no malice whatsoever.
(The height jokes have a bit of malice, but it’s all playful at the end of the day.)
“Okay~ I’ve informed Atsush-kun that everyone needs to be up here as soon as possible; then Juni’chiro-kun and Naomi-chan should be here soon as well.” Dazai chirped, putting both of his elbows on the table after flipping his phone shut. He rested his chin in his palms, an easy smile on his lips. “Alright, thank you, Dazai. While we wait for them, I wanted to ask you directly how you’re feeling. Since you took the brunt of the damage and are still recovering due to your inability to be treated by Yosano-kun.” Fukuzawa asked, hands tucked away inside his sleeves.
Dazai tilted his head, a thoughtful look making its way onto his expression for a moment before he smiled again. Not quite real, but also not quite fake either. “I’m alright, President, I’ll be healed up in no time and off paperwork duty!” Fukuzawa nodded, clearly unconvinced at the faulty certainty in the brunet’s voice. Yet he didn’t voice it, not wanting to make the other male uncomfortable around his friends. Feelings were a hard topic for him as well.
“Alright then, we’ll always be here if you need to talk about anything, remember that.” Dazai smiled at the words, but didn’t say anything for another moment. Why did that feel like a warning, or a goodbye even… Why couldn’t he remember what was supposed to be happening? Fukuzawa was never this sentimental, not so outwardly. “Neh, thanks, president, I’ll keep that in mind for the future.”
They talked back and forth for a while longer, mainly Kunikida Yosano and Dazai were chatting, of course, effectively avoiding the remainder of his paperwork he had yet to complete, Kunikida could have his head later, they had an important meeting coming up, after all!
Soon enough, the agency’s main door opened, and the rest of their coworkers came in soon after. Atsushi walked in with Kyouka and Kenji in tow, the Tanizaki siblings following soon after. “Hey, Dazai-san! I did as requested. I’ll go find Ranpo and give him his snacks first!” The kid was carrying two full bags of snacks from the nearby corner store; it was so Ranpo to request Atsushi to do such an errand, especially since they haven’t had many cases these past few days.
“Great job, Atsushi-kun! Go do that, and make sure to tell Ranpo-san to come here for the meeting as well~” Dazai chirped, sitting up again with an easy smirk on his lips. The pretending came easily; it always had. Everyone was acting as usual. Kyouka and Kenji passed by while talking about what they planned to do this evening. The Tanizakis were their usual selves, and Kunikida, as well as Yosano, had been this whole time.
Atsushi seemed alright as well. He hasn’t seen Ranpo in a while because he’s been in the president’s office. But whatever was happening today messed up the president’s demeanor, and that couldn’t mean good things, not at all.
After a moment or two of idle chatting, Atsushi came back, stretching his arms from how much he had to carry without his ability. Ranpo silently followed behind him with a bag of some brand of chips in his hand before he stopped next to the president. Both he and Dazai met eyes for a moment before Ranpo gave him an idle wave, but nothing seemed to ease his worries.
That’s fine. He could figure this out; he literally outsmarted Fyodor while in a max security prison in Europe. The one unknown variable was his ability, but even when he managed to get back to Yokohama using said ability, the agency and the others defeated him.
It’s probably nothing; maybe they were just on edge still, a lot of people were. Dazai shook his head, grabbing his crutch so he could get up, using it to walk over to the group toward the center of the room. “So, who are we waiting for exactly..?” Atsushi asked, fidgeting with the edge of his shirt. “The president has yet to tell us that fact, I’m assuming he was waiting for us all to be present,” Dazai responded, shrugging his shoulders mindlessly.
“Correct, Dazai. I wanted you all here because today we’ll be having visitors from another organization regarding a deal they made with us during the battle with Dostoevsky.” Fukuzawa’s tone held something inside it, deeper than earlier. Dazai could vaguely remember a deal being made, and it made his chest tighten with a sense of dread pooling in his stomach before he could stop it.
“What was the deal, president? If this were in exchange for the aid they offered in defeating Dostoevsky, then it could only really be…” Yosano paused mid-sentence, throwing Dazai a glance, then Ranpo. Her expression turned grim, yet no one else seemed to figure it out quite yet.
Fukuzawa nodded slowly, closing his eyes for a moment before opening them again a moment later. Just as he was about to speak again and explain the deal, there was a sturdy knock on the agency’s door, making everyone turn their attention toward the intrusion except Ranpo.
“..I’ll go get that…” Atsushi hesitated, but stepped closer to the door regardless, unsure of what to expect regarding their guests that were supposed to be behind this door. The platinum blond opened the door, looking up to see who their guests were.
…Only to be greeted by the Port Mafia boss in the flesh.
They’d only met briefly during a couple of joint meetings and on the battlefield when they had been fighting at the airport. But something about his demeanor this time felt too happy, like he’d won a game he’d been losing for far too long. As if he were here to claim his prize. Atsushi swallowed, opening the door wider for the group. “Come in.. the president has been expecting you…” Atsushi stepped away from the door, fleeing back toward his coworkers.
Everyone had mixed emotions on their faces, some of shock, others of acceptance. Mori came in with a grin on his face, followed by some of his subordinates. Among them were Akutagawa, Hirotsu, Kouyou, and… Chuuya.
Dazai’s fears only seemed to be proven when he saw them, his expression darkening against his will, his grip tightened on the handle of his crutch, opting to shift his gaze to his wonderful, beautiful, loving husband. They locked eyes for a moment, but it was enough to tell him exactly what he needed to know.
Well shit.
So that’s why he checked on him earlier, hm?
The brunet exhaled, looking down before letting a passive-aggressive smile appear on his lips. This was about to be a shit show, wasn’t it? “Ah, Fukuzawa-dono, it’s truly wonderful to see you’re doing well. You summoned all of your subordinates here, I assume?”
Fukuzawa let out a sigh, stepping forward, standing in front of all of his employees like Mori was. “Indeed, Ougai, just as requested. However, not all of them are aware of what the deal is since you arrived early.” Fukuzawa supplied, melodic as ever. Mori’s smile only widened, sinister, as he always was.
“Oh, that’s quite all right, Yukichi. I’ve already made my decision regardless. The deal was for anyone except for Yosano-kun, was it?”
Before Fukuzawa could respond, Kunikida spoke up with confusion present in his voice. “President, by all means, what does the port mafia boss mean by ‘anyone except Yosano’?” Fukuzawa turned, looking over all of his children before settling his eyes on Kunikida again.
“The port mafia made a deal with us during the Meursault conflict in exchange for their power. I give over one ability user from this agency of Mori’s choosing; the only exception is Yosano-san. He’s come here to… Choose their new member.” Fukuzawa chose his words carefully, but it didn’t seem to help.
One detective agency member. That damn smirk Mori had on, it was all too obvious who he decided to pick out of all of them. “Fukuzawa-dono, I think it would be wise if we got a move on, since I have a party prepared back at the mafia to celebrate. So I would like to take my pick now, if you’d let me.”
The president let out a low sigh, but stepped aside regardless, ushering Yosano and Naomi to step aside as well. Leaving Atsushi, Kunikida, Dazai, Juni’chiro, Kyouka, Kenji, and Ranpo as selections. Mori pretended to look over all of them for a moment or two, rubbing his pointer and thumb over his chin while observing the people in front of him. All at his disposal to choose and train.
Dazai stared him down, narrowing his eyes. The silence stretched, the air tense with how long Mori was dragging out the words he simply knew would come out of the mafia boss's mouth. Kyouka had a blank stare, hands clasped in front of her. Kenji even looked a bit nervous despite being all sunshine most of the time. Dazai would have Mori’s head if he ever decided to subject another child to torture like the mafia was.
Kunikida had his arms crossed, checking his watch, avoiding the gaze of everyone. Atsushi seemed the most nervous out of everyone, mainly being under the slightly-less-deadly-stare from Akutagawa across the room. Juni’chiro rubbed the back of his neck, not expecting it to be him, but still uncomfortable being observed. Ranpo already knew it wouldn’t be him; his intellect would be useful, but not as valuable as one would think in this lineup.
“I think I’ll pick…” The silence only stretched for a moment longer, the mafia boss hummed for a moment, lifting a hand to point at Atsushi, making the boy stiffen on the spot. Dazai only narrowed his eyes, seeming to amuse Mori further while he dragged his finger across his options until it landed on Dazai. “Dazai-kun.”
The brunet closed his eyes, dropping his head before lifting it again with a tilt. Everyone who didn’t know before did, and Atsushi looked ready to cry on the spot. Kunikida stiffened significantly. Kyouka lowered her head in resignation, Kenji frowned, Yosano looked ready to protest, and she did.
“Dazai- President, you can’t let him do this! I may have gotten out of it because of you, but couldn’t you have-” Fukuzawa raised a hand, looking at the floor before raising his head again. “There wasn’t much more I could do. I negotiated it down to getting you out of the options. For this, I apologize, Dazai.”
“It’s quite all right, president. I could see this coming from a mile away; alas, Mori-san is so predictable as he ages that I knew from the moment he set foot into this office.” There was a clear bite in his tone. Dazai stepped closer, and Mori’s smile widened again.
They were interrupted yet again when Atsushi called out to him, tears pricking in the corners of his eyes. “D-Dazai-san! You can’t leave yet, you haven’t taught me everything you know yet…” Dazai felt his jaw tighten against his will. He made his way over to Atsushi, placing a hand on his shoulder.
“You’ve already exceeded my expectations, Atsushi-kun. I know that you’ll be just fine without me, after all, this has always been temporary, one way or another.” Dazai’s lip twitched against his will. For some reason, he felt burning behind his eyes at the sight of his mentee getting so emotional over such a thing as this was.
“B-But.. I don’t want you to go, how will I know if I’m doing the right thing..? How will I know that you’re okay?” Dazai let out a low laugh, lifting the hand from Atsushi’s shoulder, placing it on his head instead, ruffling his hair. “You have everyone else to tell you that, don’t you? Plus…” The brunet set his crutch aside, shrugging off his tan trench coat, bringing it over Atsushi’s shoulders, settling it there.
“You’ll always have me with you, won’t you?” That was it for Atsushi; he pushed himself forward, burying his face in his mentor's chest while muttering words that neither could really comprehend. Dazai staggered back, biting his lip when he put pressure on his injured foot, but wrapped his arms around Atsushi’s back anyway, brushing a hand through his hair.
“..It’s alright… I promise.. As long as it isn’t you…” The words were meant mainly for himself, but they were loud enough for a few people to hear anyway. After a moment, Dazai pulled the younger back, wiping his tears with his thumb. “Now… Take care of my coat for me, won’t you? It fits you, Atsushi-kun.”
With that, Dazai pulled back from Atsushi, reaching for his crutch, only to hear Mori speak behind him. “Ah, Dazai-kun, my subordinates don’t use crutches, if I recall.” Dazai clicked his tongue, turning his head to face his boss. Trying his best to ignore the looks from his husband and the other mafia members. “Right, you enjoy watching us suffer.”
The brunet let the crutch go. Mori gave him a pointed look, Dazai had to resist rolling his eyes, put his bandaged foot down, and crossed his arms. Dazai took a deep breath, turning his head, and strolled over to his now ex-partner, letting an easy smirk come onto his lips.
“You know, Doppo? You and your ideals aren’t so bad.” The blond scoffed, looking away to hide his expression. Dazai only scoffed, reaching out to press a finger into his chest. “Not you too! Come on, Kunikida-kun! You are supposed to be happy I’m leaving, you can finally focus on your work without me interrupting you!”
Somewhere behind him, he heard a snort, then a low cough that seemed to be an attempt to cover it up. That seemed to widen his smile, pressing his hand into a fist, hitting it against Kunikida’s chest. “It was nice knowing you, partner.” That was what made Kunikida look back at him, but Dazai had already pulled away, moving on to his other ex-coworkers. If Mori wouldn’t let him have anything else, he’d share a goodbye at least.
He shared a few words with Kenji, giving him a brief pat on the head, a mutual nod with Kyouka, and a pat on the shoulder for Juni’chiro. When he reached Ranpo, they just stared for a minute, not speaking until they formulated a response to their situation.
“You know, Ranpo-kun? I think if I hadn’t been here, he would’ve chosen you. Your knowledge is valuable, don’t let it go to waste, yeah?”
The older looked away, a low sniffle coming from his direction before he looked back, lifting a finger to point it at Dazai. “You better stay safe there, you hear me? Who else am I going to share my plots with when no one else will listen anymore?”
Dazai laughed, genuinely, lacking its usual light. “Of course, I wouldn’t dream of it.” They shared awkward nods of acknowledgement until Dazai made it back over to Fukuzawa and Yosano. The purple-haired woman reached out in an instant, pulling him into a bone-crushing hug. (That thankfully, didn’t break any of his ribs.)
“You better stay safe, you hear me? I will find out if you get hurt, and it won’t be pretty when I do. Osamu, you’re important to us; we’re your friends, remember that.” The burning returned behind his eyes; he nodded, collecting his breath again to respond. “Yeah… Of course, Akiko. I’ll remember that, always. After all… I don’t think even a god would let me get hurt.” The woman sighed, pulling him into another hug, gentler this time.
“He'd better take good care of you… I trust him enough to know that he wouldn’t ever hurt you, let him help you once in a while, alright?” She whispered it in his ear, clearly referring to his husband. He nodded into her hair, pulling back. “Thank you, Akiko.”
Dazai swallowed, facing his now ex-boss. Fukuzawa had some kind of aura to him, one that had always managed to get him choked up in these kinds of moments. God, Dazai hated goodbyes. But he wouldn’t be able to live with himself if he left these people like this.
“Thanks, Fukuzawa. For everything.” The older man nodded, reaching out to press a firm hand on Dazai’s shoulder. “I’m proud of you, Dazai. You’ve made it until now, and I hope the best for you. May we meet again under better circumstances.” The brunet nodded, placing a hand on top of Fukuzawa’s for a moment, pulling back from his grip.
Dazai wouldn’t admit it, but Fukuzawa was probably the better father figure that he’s had in his life; his biological father, he had to dodge bottles until he eventually got tired of dealing with him and his mother. Mori wasn’t much better either. So it stung a little to let this life go, the life he’d run into when the darkness was consuming him.
The brunet took a deep breath, all emotion being locked away like it was always meant to be, when Dazai finally stepped in front of Mori again, the man looked like he had won whatever game they had been playing. He brushed a hand against Dazai’s shoulder; and he had to physically force himself not to flinch at the contact. “Hirotsu, the coat.” Mori grabbed the offered coat from Hirotsu, fanning it out before wrapping it around Dazai’s shoulders.
It was the same style coat the man had given him originally, black like ink. “I’ll have the official papers filled out and sent to you by the end of the day, Fukuzawa-dono. It was truly a pleasure doing business with you. I’ll have one of my subordinates come and collect Dazai-kun's stuff at some point this week. This was truly wonderful, but we have places to be. Goodbye.”
With that, the mafia walked out with Dazai in a more hesitant retreat, giving one last wave and a muttered goodbye before the door closed behind him. The agency had never felt so quiet before, not since before they welcomed Dazai into their agency family.
The group went outside to the black cars shortly after that. Dazai tried, he really did, to get in one with Chuuya. But of course, Mori put a hand on his shoulder and steered him towards one that he was going into. Dazai bit his tongue, but slid into the car with the mafia boss anyway.
It was silent until the cars started driving, then Mori spoke up. His tone was laced with mockery and delight. “So, Dazai-kun. I take it you had a nice vacation?” The brunet failed to respond, simply crossing his legs, looking out the window idly. The mafia boss’s smile twitched at the corners, his gaze darkening. “My, my, has that detective agency made you defiant towards me since you went there?” Dazai turned his head, just enough to see the other man in the corner of his eye while he spoke.
“It’d be a shame if something happened to them if my demon prodigy disappeared once again.” The threat was as clear as day. Dazai was stuck; there was no escape. Not right now, not in a few years. The brunet’s jaw tightened, his hand clenching against his pants. It was sheer willpower that kept him from doing anything that could kill his mentor already. After all, Mori always had his drivers have a gun on hand, especially now, especially when he’d just gotten his prized Black Wraith back in the organization with him.
“Ah, I’m so thrilled that I have Soukoku back together. You two have always been such a powerful duo; we only had a few missions with you together while you were gone. Such wasted power, honestly.” Dazai wasn’t really listening to his rambling anymore; it was just something that Mori would do to try to get him to lash out.
The rest of the drive went as expected, more prodding, more mockery. Dazai got away with a few words, only when he knew Mori would get upset. When the cars finally stopped outside of the port mafia, it felt as if Dazai was climbing a mountain without his gear and no one to catch him.
Everyone stepped out of their respective cars. Dazai just started walking, not bothering to check if anyone was following. Mori wouldn’t; he made his threat abundantly clear. “Try and run again, and your detective agency won’t be there to catch you.” It wasn’t put into proper words, but Dazai knew better; he always did.
It was when he felt a tap against his side that he looked through his peripheral vision and saw the one person who didn’t seem to have it out for him there. Dazai let out a low exhale, letting his other hand brush against Chuuya’s arm. They were being watched, so they couldn’t do much more right now. Yet it felt like enough.
Whatever party they were about to walk into was likely going to be a shit show; the day had barely started, yet Dazai already wanted to go home and cuddle with his slug until time inevitably caught up to them. But alas, this was the most he’d get right now.
—-
The party somehow ended up worse than Dazai had imagined. Not only did he have to change back into his old clothes and replace the bandage he had over his eye before he left, he had a full introduction in front of all of the mafia and its patrons.
Being introduced back as the demon prodigy was… An experience to say the least. The only bearable thing about the entire thing was being near Chuuya. Even if he was called every few minutes by Mori to reintroduce him personally to some of their newer business associates. He had to bite his tongue each time the man badmouthed the agency in some way shape or form. This was a test, but… Maybe they did teach him some human emotions while he was there, because if this were his past self, he would’ve just sat and taken it with a blank expression.
Odasaku was right.
Oda was right.
“Hey, idiot. You still with me?” A voice spoke, then a hand touched his cheek. Dazai blinked, vision going back into focus. He exhaled when he saw his husband, dropping his head onto Chuuya’s head, uncaring of the fact that his hat was in the way. “Mhn.. Present, dearest Chibi.” The nickname was clearly a front; the redhead clicked his tongue, sneaking a hand to press against the small of Dazai’s back under his coat.
The brunet slung an arm around Chuuya’s shoulders, making the mafioso scowl at him, audibly yelling at him for being such an octopus. He didn’t push him off, though. Today had been exhausting on both of them. Dazai took the brunt of the load because he literally got dragged back into the mafia. He was holding on for dear life physically and mentally. Chuuya knew that.
Hopefully, once they get home, he will be able to prevent a bad mental break and manage to keep himself out of any locked rooms.
“I asked Hirotsu-san what the earliest time I could take you home was, and he said 30 minutes, hold on for me until then?” Dazai lifted his head again, humming idly rather than using words. The redhead didn’t blame him, using the hand he had pressed to Dazai’s back to pull the other man closer to himself.
The husbands stayed stuck to each other, even back then, they would be, before everything happened, and one of them was driven to leave. Just when they thought they’d finally get some peace to recover after the endless weeks of travelling and battles… Mori had to pick Dazai, didn’t he? They both knew the moment the proposition was made. That this would be how Mori would guarantee his right hand's return.
“Chuuya’s using his brain too much; it’ll all turn into mush, then he’ll turn into a slug for real this time!” That was what brought Chuuya back into the present, a scowl forming on his face in an instant. “Says the bloody Mackerel!” Dazai only grinned, stepping back just in time to dodge a kick that would surely hurt if on the receiving end. Well, if you were anyone but Osamu Dazai, of course. “My my, such violent tendencies! I thought I trained you to bark less!”
“Shut up, you ass!” The mafioso’s face flushed with rage and embarrassment, his hat tilted lower to conceal his expression. The brunet took a few steps closer, tugging Chuuya closer until the redhead was growling half-heartedly in protest, eventually leaning into the touch, if only a little bit. “I hate you…” The brunet only cracked a small smirk, clutching his partner to his chest while making it look like Chuuya wanted nothing but to get away when it was the exact opposite. “The feeling’s mutual, chibi.” He earned a kick to his good shin for the nickname.
Double Black left the party as soon as the 30 minutes were up. Their drive home was silent; the party at least had white noise, but this was just tense silence. Filled with all the words they couldn’t say. Eventually, Chuuya flicked the radio on low, filling the silence enough that it wasn’t suffocating both of them.
Dazai felt a gloved hand brush against his thigh, resting there after a moment. Presence. Something he desperately needed during these moments when he felt like he was being torn at the seams. He let out a low exhale, letting his head lull to the side so he could look out the window. There it was again, that stupid burning behind his eyes. He’s felt it more today than in the last 9 years. Since he ran away from home.
They pulled into the driveway of Chuuya’s penthouse an unknown amount of time later, Dazai processed the engine shutting off, and then the presence of his husband disappeared for a minute before it returned at his side. He was gently tugged out of the passenger seat, then pulled inside the building away from the cool air that was outside.
Nothing else really registered, not until they were safely in the confines of their home did he slump against his husband, who held onto him tightly. Acting as a crutch to make sure he stayed off his still-injured foot that he’d been forced to walk on for the last few hours. “You’re okay, I’ve got you…” Chuuya’s words cleared the fog clouding his head, enough to at least hum a response. He didn’t have the energy to do much more than that; Chuuya didn’t mind.
They took time to settle down, taking a bath and changing their clothes. Chuuya had gone to make dinner not too long ago, leaving Dazai to rewrap his bandages in the bathroom. There was mutual agreement on crab, since it was Dazai’s favorite food, it might just cheer him up. It wouldn’t fix what happened today, but it would bring some solace if anything at all.
It had been nearly an hour, dinner was almost ready to be plated, and Chuuya had been fully expecting freshly bandaged arms to wrap around him from behind like an octopus, but no such thing came. It was then that he turned off the stove and left the kitchen with a towel thrown over his shoulder.
“Oi, Osamu? I know you’re a mackerel, but it’s never taken you this long to bandage yourself, you could’ve called me if you needed-” The redhead paused abruptly when he peaked inside their bedroom and didn’t find his husband curled up in bed. “Help..” He finished, blowing his bangs out of his face before turning toward the still shut bathroom door, leaning against the door frame before tapping on the door. “Hey, ‘Zai?” He tried, shutting his eyes before opening them again.
There wasn’t a response, but the light was on under the door, and his husband couldn’t have snuck past him, so. Chuuya inhaled slowly, reaching for the handle just to try it. Just in case.
Locked. Of course.
They made a rule not to lock the bathroom door unless absolutely necessary, so this must’ve been real necessary if Dazai was hiding his scars, which Chuuya had seen thousands of times before. The mafioso clicked his tongue, tapping on the door again. “Open the door, ‘Samu. Or at least tap back if you’re conscious. You taught me how to lock pick for this reason, you know?”
Eventually, a response came in the form of a shuffle, then a small thud that sounded like he dropped bandages on the floor. “I’ll sit here waiting, and your crab will get cold. Oh, the horror.” Chuuya was getting worried, shit, he was worried. But he couldn’t let Dazai know that. The idiot hated being worried about, especially when there was pity involved. Though, that seems to be what did it, because the lock clicked a moment later.
The redhead breathed out a sigh of relief, reaching for the door handle again and pushing open the door. His husband was inside, half bandaged while staring at the mirror as if it’d just killed everyone he loved. (Which in this case, it did. Sort of.) Chuuya shook his head, grabbing the towel that had fallen off the mirror, throwing it back over the reflective glass before it got broken.
“False memories?” Chuuya urged, placing a hand on the brunet’s side. It took a moment, but he got a response, low and quiet. “...I tried running again, and I found the agency dead with bullet wounds.” The redhead frowned, pulling the man into a hug, allowing his husband to bury his face into his neck if he wanted to. Dazai exhaled against his skin, causing goosebumps to prickle in response. Neither of them moved. “And I know damn well you would never let that happen, hmm?”
He got a low laugh in response, filled with pain and resignation. “He has me, Chuu… And he knows that he does, that’s whats bad about it.” Chuuya’s lips pressed into a frown, his arms instinctively tightening around his partner. “Well Mori can go fuck himself, I’m happy we can work together again, but it shouldn’t have had to cost you your freedom, Osamu. We’ll figure something out, alright? You have me, and those agency friends of yours didn’t look like they’d hand you over that easy.”
Dazai blinked, his lashes fluttering gently against his collarbone before he pulled away enough to face his husband properly, staring into his beautiful eyes. Free of the colored contacts that even to this day, he insisted on wearing. “...You’re so stupid, making me feel things that aren’t depressing…” Chuuya smirked, brushing a hand firmly through the man’s hair.
“If it makes my pet fish feel even a bit better, then it’s all worth it.” Chuuya’s cheeks flushed red upon realizing how cheesy that statement sounded, but Dazai didn’t seem to have the energy to tease him right now, so it was all good.
After composing himself, the redhead tilted his head, nodding outside of the bathroom. “How ‘bout I finish up your bandages and we can eat the crab I made us for dinner before going to bed?” Dazai mumbled something in agreement, letting Chuuya grab the roll he’d dropped before responding louder while Chuuya led him into their shared bedroom.
“..Love you.”
His husband sat him on their bed, looking Dazai in his eyes for a moment before responding.
“Love you too, stupid fish.”