Chapter Text
POV: Chuuya
Exhaustion settled deep in my bones as I finally turned the key in my apartment lock. Another brutal mission down, another night alive. But the moment the door swung open, my brief sense of relief vanished.
Right there in the entryway sat a pair of shoes—scuffed, unlaced, and thrown down with total disregard for order.
A heavy sigh escaped my chest. "Dazai!" I called out, making zero effort to mask the sheer annoyance in my voice.
"Chuuuuyaaa," Dazai’s voice echoed melodiously from the living room.
I stepped past the hallway and found him sprawled out across my couch like a, lazy cat.
"I came all this way to bless you with my loving presence," he declared with a wide grin. "You're welcome, little doggy."
I groaned, choosing to ignore the taunt. I was far too drained for his bullshit, and the bastard definitely knew it. Crossing the room, I shoved his long, gangly legs out of the way to clear a spot for myself on the cushion. Pulling out my phone, I decided to just order a pizza.
"Oi, shitty Dazai, I’m ordering the usual," I said, cutting him off before he could open his mouth. "Don't even start lying about how you've already eaten or try to decline. I need you functional if a mission comes up—I don't need a liability."
A string of mumbled complaints escaped his lips, but he didn't push it further, knowing I wouldn't budge.
When the food arrived, we ended up huddled on the couch, half-watching whatever random movie was on TV. As much as I complained about him breaking in uninvited, a treacherous part of me quieted down when he was around. It gave me a fleeting moment to pretend we were just two normal teenagers doing stupid shit, rather than killers bound to the Port Mafia.
Before my thoughts could drift any deeper into that dark territory, an annoying ringtone shattered the quiet. Dazai muttered a quiet curse, pulling his phone from his pocket and answering with a sudden shift in demeanor.
After a brief, hushed exchange, he hung up and tossed the phone onto the coffee table. A familiar smirk tugged at his lips. "Boss wants to see us tomorrow. Apparently, he has a new assignment for Double Black."
I groaned, rubbing my temples as sleep threatened to pull me under right there on the sofa.
"It's fine, chibi," Dazai teased, his tone mock-gentle. "It's for tomorrow morning. You and your tiny brain can go rest up so you don't pass out on the job."
I just grunted, too exhausted to fight him on the brain comment.
Pushing myself up, I made my way to the bedroom and flopped onto the mattress, practically sinking into the warmth of the pillows. A few minutes later, the mattress dipped under extra weight. I stifled another groan, knowing Dazai was going to crash here, hog the space, and steal the blanket as usual. But before I could yell at him, sleep dragged me under entirely.
POV: Dazai
The faint chirping of birds outside the window woke me. I groaned, pulling the pillow over my ear to block out the morning light, but curiosity won out. As I opened my eyes, my vision was filled with a mess of bright, fiery orange hair. Untamed, soft... almost beautiful—
Wait. What am I even thinking?
I paused, mentally pulling back. It was just the morning sun playing tricks on my eyes. Calling Chuuya beautiful? Right. I scoffed under my breath at the ridiculous thought and tried to look away.
Yet, my eyes betrayed me, drifting back toward his face. His expression was completely smooth, devoid of the harsh edge he usually carried. It was rare to see Chuuya this relaxed, this vulnerable. Did he actually trust me enough to let his guard down around me like this? The thought felt uneasy, heavy in my chest. Ugh, I need a shower before my head fills up with more nonsense about this stupid slug.
I carefully shifted to slip out of bed, but a sudden weight anchored me in place.
Looking down, I saw Chuuya’s hand wrapped tightly around my wrist.
An adorable, clingy doggy, I thought with a smirk. I gave my arm a gentle tug, expecting his grip to loosen in sleep. Instead, his fingers clamped down with terrifying force.
I pulled harder, but his grip tightened to the point of pain. Even without Upon the Tainted Sorrow, Chuuya's physical strength was unmatched—he could easily overpower nearly anyone in the Port Mafia. But right now, his unconscious strength was digging straight into my flesh. His brow furrowed in his sleep, a shadow of distress crossing his features.
"Chuuya... wake up, idiot. You're crushing your master," I snapped, trying to pry his fingers off.
He jolted upright, his eyes flying open as he took in the room in a blur of disorientation.
"Chuuya! Let go!" I shouted.
He snapped out of it and instantly released my hand. I unraveled the edge of my damp bandages to inspect the skin underneath; a dark, purplish bruise was already blooming across my wrist.
"Shit... did I do that?" Chuuya asked, his voice raw. His eyes widened, swirling with a sudden burst of grief and guilt.
"I’ve been through worse, doggy," I said, waving it off with a dramatic sigh. "Wait... are you actually worried about me? Awww, Chuuya really loves me!"
He rolled his eyes, the heavy melancholy fading slightly into familiar irritation. But beneath the annoyance, a lingering sadness remained in his eyes.
I didn't press him. I knew why he was like this. It hadn't been long since the Flags were killed and buried, and he'd been carrying that weight around like an anchor. If he wanted to talk about it, he would. Besides, we were just partners. We weren't friends. I had no reason to care that much.
"Get ready. We need to see the Boss," I said, stepping toward the door.
"I know, bastard..." he muttered back, though the response lacked its usual fiery bite.
I watched him for a fraction of a second longer. I just needed to make sure his grief wouldn't cloud his focus on the upcoming mission. He couldn't afford to be a liability out there—that was the only reason I was paying attention.
Nothing else.