Chapter Text
Yokohama never slept.
Chuuya Nakahara had learned that much long before he learned how to swing between its buildings.
At three in the morning, the city still breathed beneath him. Headlights crawled along the streets like streams of restless fire. Neon signs flickered against rain-darkened pavement, painting the sidewalks in colors that disappeared whenever a car passed through a puddle. Apartment windows glowed here and there, some warm and golden, others stark and white. There were people awake, always awake. Some were working and were coming home. And some were leaving, while some were simply trying to survive another night.
From the edge of the skyscraper, Chuuya watched them all. The wind pulled at his copper-colored hair that rested at his shoulder, once well kept; now unruly and annoyingly frizzy. He lowered his head slightly as another cold gust swept over the rooftop. "Goddamn it," Chuuya muttered, his shoulders tightening against the cold. The city didn't care that he was freezing, it didn't care at all that his ribs hurt so damn much from all the swinging and running around. The city didn't care that he'd been awake for nearly twenty hours, and, apparently, neither did he.
His fingers curled at the mask he held so tightly before the police scanner attached inside his suit crackled for the nth time.
'Possible robbery in progress near Kannai Station. Suspects believed to be armed. Units responding.'
He had hacked into the police communication system in order to easily monitor the movements within the city, and to have an immediate respond to an emergency. Sometimes, he find it handy. But most of the time, he finds it exhausting and the more it crackles, the more he loses his sanity. Chuuya closed his eyes for a moment, trying to calm his throbbing head before he dives from the skyscraper he'd been crouching for the last fifteen minutes.
Then, there it was. The familiar feeling, the weight, the obligation. He could ignore it, he gave it a thought a few times, to stay where he was, or go home and rot in his fluffy bed. Nobody would know and nobody would blame him, because no one knew his identity. But Chuuya knew, someone down there needed help.
He sighed as he stepped toward the edge of the building. "One more," he whispered to himself, the words sounding more like a promise than a complaint. Then he stepped off, and for half a second, gravity claimed him. His stomach dropped from the sudden leap he took, the city rushed upward, then his wrist snapped forward.
Thwip.
The web caught against the side of another building. Chuuya swung as the wind ripped past him. The world became a blur of lights and shadows as he flew between skyscrapers, his body moved before his mind had time to think, muscles remembering what years of practice had taught them.
Release, fire, swing. Release, fire again.
He curved around the side of a building and shot toward the next one. The city opened beneath him. For a few seconds, there was nothing but wind. Nothing but the rush of movement and nothing but the strange freedom of falling without ever truly falling. It was the closest thing Chuuya had to peace.
Then his phone vibrated, which almost caused him to nearly miss the next web. "Shit," he grumbled and immediately tried to restore his momentum. But when it continued to vibrate, he knew he needed to check his phone before he continue his duty. With that, he landed against the side of a building and clung there, his boots pressing against the glass. Then on cure, his phone vibrated again. Chuuya can't help but groan as he pulled it from the compartment in his suit. The screen lit his face beneath the mask and it took a moment before his vision readjusted.
When he checked, there were three missed calls and one text.
Then, he stared at the name.
Dazai.
Of course. Chuuya's mouth flattened into a line, even at three in the morning, Dazai still manages to bother him. "Why are you calling me at three in the morning?", he texted the annoying man behind the line. The phone vibrated again, another message appeared.
Dazai: Where are you?
Chuuya stared at it before he typed aggressively. Because what is this man's deal, right now of all time.
Chuuya: Busy.
He looked at the word and contemplated. It was too cold for his liking, so he deleted it and typed again.
Chuuya: Working.
Still the same. Chuuya deleted that too, because it was a stupid excuse. Him and Dazai literally work on the same Agency, so the man would know the lie. After a few moment of contemplating, he decided to shove the phone back into his suit without answering. The scanner on his other pocket crackled again. Chuuya looked toward the direction of Kannai. "Right," he muttered as he pushed himself away from the building once again.
"Duty first." And with that, he swung again. He told himself that was why he changed direction, that was why he didn't go home. Chuuya told himself that was why he kept moving. But there was a tiny, irritating part of him that knew better.
Dazai was somewhere in the city of Yokohama, alone. Because of course he is.
~~~
It was an uneventful day at the Agency, which Chuuya thought was suspicious. And Dazai was being completely queit and weird.
"Hey Dazai, if you're gonna zone out, at least finish your paperworks before the day ends!" Kunikida shouted across the office.
"Awe~ but it's so boring, Kunikida!" The lanky man a few table away from Chuuya whined. But it wasn't his usual whining as if he was a kid who couldn't get what he wanted. This time it was an empty complain.
"Are you okay, Dazai?" Atsushi asked beside him, as if the two of them were thinking the same.
Dazai looked at Atsushi, then at Chuuya. He gave them a blank look before he flashed a smile that didn't reach his eyes.
"If I call one of you in the middle of nowhere, would you come for me?"
~~~
Chuuya had finally finished giving the police the backup that they needed, a.k.a., doing their job, when he finally decided he had enough. And that his eyes are going to pop out of his eye socket any minute now. But when he curved around and swung his webs toward the riverbank, there, he saw him. Dazai Osamu was standing beneath a streetlamp. And it looked like he had been there for almost an hour. He didn't look angry, or upset, but that was somehow worse. He stood with his back against the pole, his hands buried inside the pockets of his long coat, his face was soft but it lack emotions. His brown hair was slightly disheveled from the wind, strands falling across his forehead while his eyes were fixed on the empty street.
Chuuya settled on top of a two-story building to...To observe. Every few minutes, Dazai glance at his phone, and put it away when he saw nothing. Then he'd look down the street again, which made Chuuya's stomach drop every time. He continued watching him from the rooftop across the road. After a few moment, he questioned why he was doing this, he should have gone home.
Instead, he had come here. He wasn't really sure why, but maybe it was guilt. Or he felt obligated to come because of that one particular sentence that Dazai asked them. Or maybe because he knew Dazai had been waiting.
Chuuya crouched near the edge of the roof to have a better view. Dazai checked his phone, but again, nothing. This caused his shoulders to drop slightly. The movement was so small that most people wouldn't have noticed it, but Chuuya did. Something unpleasant tightened in his chest and that made him frown. "Why do I care?" he asked himself, but even he didn't know the answer to that.
Dazai looked toward the road as if waiting for him. Or maybe he was waiting Atsushi, who cares, really. Dazai's eyes lingered to where he looked, but still nothing. He sighed, though it wasn't theatrical, it wasn't exaggerated, and there was no dramatic complaint attached to it. It was simply a tired sigh. Chuuya's expression softened before he could stop it. He immediately stopped himself, he hated that. He especially hated that Dazai looked different when nobody was watching.
It work, Dazai was insufferable. The man smiled too much, talked too much and teased too much. He had an irritating talent for making every conversation sound like a game. But right now, beneath the streetlamp, he looked strangely small. Lonely even. Chuuya had to look away before he tried to do something stupid and he might regret.
"Why don't he just go home." He asked to no one, but he knew it wasn't that easy, because it was Dazai. Nothing was easy and simple when it's Dazai. He turned to leave. Then as if he was heard, Dazai started walking away from where he was standing.
Chuuya hesitated. His fingers suddenly flexed, then, a web shot from his wrist.
He didn't mean it, but he followed.
~~~
Dazai didn't know he was being followed, that was the first thing Chuuya noticed, and it sounded wrong. The second was that Dazai walked slower than he expected, not because he was tired. At least, Chuuya didn't think so. He simply walked as though he had nowhere he needed to be. As if it wasn't almost 4am in the morning, that he didn't need any sleep. But Chuuya wasn't any better at all.
He passed a convenience store and stopped. Chuuya landed silently on a rooftop above him as he watched Dazai walk inside. A few minutes later, Dazai came back out with a canned coffee. He took one sip and made a face. But he drank the rest anyway. Chuuya snorted beneath his mask. "Idiot." He mumbled.
Dazai continued walking and stopped at a crosswalk. Upon having a better view, he saw an elderly woman who was struggling with two heavy grocery bags. Dazai noticed, that was why he crossed the street to approach her, and took one of the bags without asking. The woman was startled, but Dazai said something Chuuya couldn't hear. Whatever it was, the old lady smiled to it and the brunet smiled back.
It was different, it wasn't the smile Chuuya knew. It was quieter, genuine and softer. Chuuya stared at the man, he had never seen that expression on him before. Then when Dazai finished helping the woman, he continued walking and Chuuya continued following him.
He didn't know why he was doing it, it was as if he was intoxicated. Perhaps Chuuya was simply curious, or bored, even. But perhaps there was something about Dazai that Chuuya hadn't figured out yet. But whatever the reason was, he kept following.
Dazai eventually stopped outside a bookstore. And he wondered, a 24/7 bookstore actually exists? He stood there for several minutes, staring through the window. Chuuya looked down from the rooftop and saw Dazai smiling faintly. He seemed almost fascinated by something inside. Chuuya couldn't see what it was, he only saw a glimpse of red and blue, he considered dropping down but he didn't. Instead, he watched, like what he had been doing for the last 20 minutes.
Dazai eventually continued walking until he reached an apartment building. It took him a few second before he entered. A few minutes later, one of the windows near the upper floors lit up, signalling him that Dazai finally arrived at his unit. But knowing that, Chuuya remained across the street. He stayed there, and stared at the illuminated window. Five minutes passed. Then ten, when he finally realized what he was doing. "What the hell am I doing?", he asked himself but there was no answer. He sighed and pulled his mask down, then swung away.
~~~
The next morning, Chuuya overslept. He woke up with his face buried in his pillow and his phone vibrating underneath his cheek. He groaned before he muttered, "five more minutes." The phone continued vibrating which made Chuuya slap blindly at the mattress. His hand missed but it caused the phone to fall onto the floor, and continued buzzing.
"Fuck." This finally made him roll out of bed. His hair was a mess, and his shirt was somewhere on the floor. One sock hung from the back of his desk chair. Then he realized, his apartment looked like someone had broken in and then decided to live there. Chuuya finally decided to pick up his phone.
Six messages and four missed calls.
One voicemail, and a calendar reminder.
9:00 AM - Meeting
Chuuya stared at the time, it was already 8:47. His eyes widened and immediately stood. "Shit!" Then, Chuuya was out the door within minutes.
Twenty minutes later, Chuuya was running down the sidewalk with his coat half-buttoned and a piece of toast clenched between his teeth. His hair was still damp, his coffee was too hot, shoulders hurt, shoes were untied, and his boss was absolutely going to kill him. Again. He reached the office building and nearly collided with someone. "Watch where you're going."
Chuuya stopped, he absolutely knew that voice. He looked up, Dazai stood in front of him, holding two cups of coffee with his expression that was mildly amused.
"You waiting for me or something?" Chuuya asked with a frown, still slightly out of breath from running.
This cause Dazai to raise an eyebrow. "No." The answer came too quickly from the man, and he actually looked away with a blank face. Chuuya narrowed his eyes.
"Then why are you standing here?"
Dazai lifted one of the coffee cups and gave him a deadpan expression, "I work here, Chuuya." His tone was perfectly innocent and annoying, but the usual tease was gone.
Chuuya stared at him in disbelief. "You've been here twenty minutes early every day this week."
Dazai's lips curled into a small smile. "Perhaps I have developed a sudden appreciation for punctuality." The statement made Chuuya snort a little.
"You hate punctuality."
"I hate many things." Dazai said and held the coffee toward him.
Chuuya looked at it suspiciously. "What is that?"
"Coffee." The man simply said as if it was the most obvious thing in the world, because it is.
"I can see that." Chuuya cringed at himself, but he tried not to show it.
"Then why did you ask?"
"Because I don't trust you."
Dazai blinked at him but he smiled wider. "How cruel." This time, the tease was back and Chuuya took the cup anyway.
Their fingers brushed, it lasted barely a second. Still, Chuuya noticed. He immediately pulled his hand back, hoping the man wouldn't notice.
But Dazai didn't pull his hand back immediately. "You look terrible," he said instead, studying his face with a faint crease between his brows.
Chuuya scowled. "Fuck you." He barked, as if he didn't just stalk Dazai at 4 o'clock in the damn morning.
"I wasn't insulting you." The lanky man clarified without really a care in the world, at least that's what he tried to come off.
"You said I look terrible." What pissed Chuuya off more was the fact that they were both awake until dawn, yet Dazai looked fine, as if he just had eight hours of sleep. It looked impossible because the guy actually looks fresh.
"I meant you look tired." Dazai tried to rephrase.
"Same thing," he tried to counter, but Dazai was persistent like always.
Dazai tilted his head. "No. You look tired." Something about the way he said it made Chuuya pause. There was no teasing, no smugness, just concern.
Chuuya looked away. "I'm fine." He said quietly.
Dazai hummed and started to walk inside the building. "Of course you are."
He frowned at him, not really getting where the brunet got his energy in this ungodly hour. And why does he act like Chuuya hadn't ignored his texts earlier? "What does that even mean?"
"It means you are obviously not fine. Come on, we're late."
Chuuya followed. But after a few steps, he looked down at the coffee. "Why'd you get this for me?"
Dazai didn't turn around. "You looked tired yesterday."
Chuuya stopped walking, but as Dazai kept going, he stared at his back.
Yesterday. Yesterday at work? Or yesterday somewhere else? He remembered the restaurant, streetlamp, Dazai waiting by the riverbank, the messages. He tightened his fingers around the coffee cup. "Idiot."
Dazai glanced over his shoulder. "Did you say something?"
"No." He said as he started walking again. "I said you're annoying."
Dazai smiled and rolled his eyes. "I heard that."
The days passed, then weeks. Chuuya tried to keep things normal but he miserably failed. Being Spider-Man had always required balance. He simply hadn't realized how impossible balance could become. There was work, bills, endless patrols, multiple emergencies, and a lot of people who needed help.
And there was Dazai.
Dazai was becoming a problem not because he was doing anything wrong. That was what made it worse because Chuuya began noticing things. Dazai drank his coffee black. He hated mornings but somehow, lately he arrived early at the office, which was unbelievable. He read whenever he had free time and tapped his fingers against tables when he was thinking. He smiled when he was lying and he smiled differently when he was genuinely happy.
He hated being asked if he was okay and had an uncanny ability to turn serious conversations into jokes. And sometimes, sometimes he went completely quiet. Those were the moments that bothered Chuuya. Because Dazai's silence never seemed empty, it seemed full. Full of things he refused to say. Chuuya didn't ask, at least not yet.
~~~
Spiderman continued, because Arthur Rimbaud once said to him before he died, 'With great power, comes great responsibility.' And Chuuya isn't someone who doesn't take his job seriously.
Night after night, the city demanded him. And Spiderman answered. There were robberies, accidents, fires. There were people who needed someone to reach them before it was too late. Sometimes Chuuya came home bleeding, sometimes limping, and sometimes he came home too tired to remove his suit before collapsing onto his bed. But every time the police scanner called, he went. He always went.
One evening, he landed on a rooftop after stopping an armed robbery. His shoulder was throbbing and there was blood drying near his eyebrow. But despite that, he pulled his mask off and breathed deeply. The cold air felt good against his skin.
His phone vibrated, he then reach and looked at it.
Dazai: Are you alive?
Chuuya stared at the message and his mouth twitched. He typed:
"Unfortunately."
The reply came almost immediately as if the man on the other doesn't have anything important to do besides to bother him.
Dazai: Wonderful. I was beginning to think I had finally succeeded in killing you through annoyance.
Chuuya laughed, actually laughed. It escaped before he could stop it, but he quickly covered his mouth. "Idiot."
Another message appeared.
Dazai: Dinner?
Chuuya stared at the screen, bewildered. His first instinct was to say no. Because first of all, he had patrols, he had work tomorrow, he's exhausted as hell and he should definitely go home and rest. But despite thinking of thousands of reasons, instead, he typed:
"Fine."
The response came immediately.
Dazai: You took three seconds to answer. I am deeply wounded.
Chuuya smiled and replied, "shut up."
Dazai: I missed you too.
Chuuya's smile disappeared and only stared at the screen. His heart gave one strange, heavy beat. Then another. He did what most of people who wasn't stupid enough to fall for that charm, he locked his phone. "Nope." He shoved it into his suit and he absolutely refused to think about that.
The restaurant Dazai chose was small. It was surprisingly warm and quiet. The kind of place that didn't demand attention and Chuuya liked it immediately because it contrasts being Spiderman, who was in the spotlight everytime he was in action.
He didn't tell Dazai that, of course. The man's head was already big enough that if he added more to it, it might actually explode this time. When it was time to take their order, Dazai ordered too much, to which Chuuya complained but he couldn't do much about it if the mackerel is that hungry. Heck, knowing Dazai, the man probably hadn't eaten for days.
After the food arrived, they turned into food critic so fast that they argued about the most stupidest things. Dazai ended up stealing from Chuuya's plate. Chuuya threatened him with a chopstick in return. But for the first time in days, Chuuya relaxed. It felt easy, yet it felt dangerous.
Suddenly, a little boy from a nearby table spoke up with a squeaky voice. "Mom, did you Spiderman earlier? He was swinging all over the city and he looked so cool, didn't he!?"
"Yes dear, I saw, and you're right. He is very cool. Now eat your vegetables, Spiderman grew strong because he ate his vegetables." The mother replied and smiling at her overly excited son. The boy's eyes immediately sparkled, but reluctantly ate his vegetables.
Chuuya couldn't help but listen to the conversations, he was happy to hear that people really do think of him as a hero. He then looked at Dazai who was also looking over at the family of two. But instead of a smile, he saw nothing but a blank face on him. Without much of a thought, curiosity got the best of him and asked Dazai something he wasn't really sure he wanted to know. "What do you think of Spiderman, Dazai?"
Dazai blinked and looked at him with his eyebrows raised, clearly not expecting to be asked of such a thing, and Chuuya of all people. He gave a snort and shrugged his shoulders in response. "I think he's stupid."
That immediately squeezed a reaction from Chuuya, because the man in front of him didn't know this, but spiderman is literally in front of him. "What? I think he's cool!" He defended.
"Of course you'd think he's cool, because you're Chuuya."
"What the hell does that mean!?"
Dazai rolled his eyes at him and leaned back in his chair with a sigh. "Because you clearly think that Spiderman can save people."
Chuuya was speechless, because what is Dazai's problem with him. And what is Dazai's problem with Spiderman!?. "Uh, isn't that what he does?"
"Well, if you don't already know, not everyone can be saved." Dazai said as if it was the most obvious thing. And that bothered Chuuya more than he thought he would.
Was Dazai's statement really that important to him? And to think that Dazai find Spiderman and him stupid is quite amusing. He tried to calm himself before he actually scream at the man in front of him and make a fool out of himself. Chuuya picked up his chopsticks again and wondered what Dazai meant by what he said.
"You know, I've noticed. You've been disappearing a lot." Dazai suddenly said.
Chuuya paused with his chopsticks halfway to his mouth. "What?"
Dazai watched him. "I said you've been disappearing."
He slowly lowered his chopsticks and cleared his throat, clearly caught of guard from the sudden confrontation. "I'm busy."
Dazai raised an eyebrow. "With what?"
"Work."
"You literally hate your job."
"I don't hate it! What makes you say such a thing?"
"You called the president a parasite yesterday. You're lucky Kunikida only gave you an earful. It was actually quite funny. You know what, can you do that more often? I want Kunikida to be off my back."
"You deserved to be bothered by that motor mouth."
Dazai's lips twitched. "You also called Fukuzawa a bastard when he turned around."
"He deserved that too." That was a lie, his mood was off the roof that time and it only happened that the president was nagging him about being late and how punctuality is the most important thing a detective should possess. Which is bullshit. But still wrong.
"And you said you'd rather fight a supervillain than attend another staff meeting." This time Dazai snorted and both of them forgot about the conversation they had about Spiderman that quick.
Chuuya stared at him, he was beginning to have a difficulty in defending himself from Dazai of all people. "Th-that was hypothetical."
Dazai grinned like a winner. "Of course." He almost sounded cocky and Chuuya could've sworn the man snorted.
Chuuya looked away and clicked his tongue. He hated lying and he especially hated it even more with Dazai. There was something about the man's gaze that made every lie feel heavier. Dazai didn't press him though, instead, he looked down at his food. "You know, you don't have to tell me."
Chuuya glanced at him with confusion. "Tell you what?"
"Whatever you're hiding."
The words were quiet, too quiet. It made Chuuya's chest tightened. He somehow found it comforting, and he knew that was dangerous.
He could tell him. He could say it, the words were somehow simple.
I'm Spiderman.
He could tell Dazai everything if he wanted to right now. The late nights, the bruises, the endless exhaustion, reasons he disappeared, and why he was always late. The reason he sometimes looked like he'd been hit by a truck. But he couldn't. Not because he didn't trust Dazai, but because he trusted him enough to know how dangerous the truth could become.
So Chuuya looked away. "I'm just busy."
Dazai studied him, then nodded. "Okay."
There was no argument, no teasing. No questions whatsoever. Just okay. Chuuya looked back at the man before him, he didn't know Dazai could be this comforting despite his awful personality. Dazai smiled faintly. And somehow, that simple acceptance hurt more than anger would have.
~~~
Later that night, they walked together. The streets were quiet, they could hear their footsteps echo against the pavement. And Chuuya noticed how occasionally, their shoulders brushed, Dazai did too. But neither mentioned it.
Dazai looked up at the sky. "Have you ever thought about leaving?"
Chuuya looked at him in confusion. "Leaving what?" he asked.
"Everything."
The answer was strangely vague, and Chuuya wondered why Dazai had been acting strange since that morning after he followed him from the riverbank. He shoved his hands into his coat pockets and shrugged. "Sometimes, yeah."
Dazai looked ahead. "Where would you go?"
"Somewhere warm."
Dazai smiled and glanced at him. "You hate the heat."
"Somewhere cold then."
"You hate the cold. You sit by the window at the office and a little breeze would make you a swearing machine. I swore I saw Kunikida getting beet red that one time." That made Chuuya smile lopsidedly, Kunikida being angry is what he looks forward to see every working days.
"Somewhere nobody knows me," he said, this time softer, and continued, "final answer."
Dazai was quiet for a moment before he replied. "That sounds lonely."
Chuuya looked at him to see Dazai's expression had changed. There was something distant in his eyes, and it was beginning to bother Chuuya how that look kept appearing on Dazai's face. And that was something Chuuya couldn't understand. "Maybe."
Dazai kicked a pebble across the pavement. "I think I'd like somewhere I could start over."
Chuuya's steps slowed. He didn't know why the words bothered him. Perhaps because Dazai said them like someone who had already tried. Like someone who knew what it meant to want another life. "You don't need to start over." He managed to say.
Dazai stopped and looked up at Chuuya. For several seconds, neither moved. Chuuya realized what he had said and suddenly felt embarrassed.
"Don't make a big deal out of it."
He suddenly saw Dazai smile, it was small but i looked real. "That's a nice thing to say."
Chuuya looked away with a reddening cheek. "Forget it."
"I won't."
They continued walking. Neither reached for the other's hand. Neither crossed the invisible line between friendship and something else. But something had shifted. Neither of them knew what.
Not yet.
~~~
That night, Chuuya followed Dazai home. Again. He finally became a stalker of his hated co-worker. And Chuuya knew it was wrong. There was no excuse, yet he did it anyway. He told himself there had been a mugging nearby. He told himself he was making sure Dazai got home safely. He told himself a lot of things, but none of them were entirely true.
Dazai entered his building and Chuuya remained on the rooftop across the street. He watched one window illuminate. Five minutes passed. It became ten. Then twenty. He should leave but instead, he stayed. He didn't understand what was happening to him, he had spent years learning how to fight. How to protect and to endure. He knew exactly what to do when someone pointed a gun at him. He knew how to react when a building collapsed. And he knew how to catch a falling person. But he didn't know what to do with the quiet feeling that had begun forming in his chest whenever Dazai smiled. Wanting someone was different, and he knew that wanting meant there was something to lose. And Chuuya had spent too long learning how painful loss could be.
The next morning, Chuuya overslept again. Luckily it was the weekends, but it doesn't mean Spiderman has to sleep in on the weekends though. His alarm had somehow failed, his phone was dead, and his coffee machine refused to work. He had no clean shirts, his apartment looked worse than before. Chuuya stared at the ceiling. "I'm going to die."
After that, he finally managed to charge his phone. Messages flooded the screen. His boss, the police, unknown numbers.
Dazai.
He opened Dazai's message first.
Dazai: Did you missed breakfast? Because I did.
A second message followed.
Dazai: I know a place where they serve Natto for breakfast, you should come with me, Chibi.
Chuuya smiled despite himself. Then another message appeared.
Dazai: I'll save you a seat.
Something warm settled inside his chest. For one quiet moment, Chuuya allowed himself to imagine a different life. A life where he didn't have to run. A life where he could wake up without bruises, where he could sit across from Dazai without having to hide anything.
A life where he could simply be Chuuya. Then as if on cue, the police scanner crackled.
Multiple casualties reported: possible building fire.
The fantasy immediately disappeared. Chuuya closed his eyes. He reached beneath his bed until his fingers found the familiar fabric. The suit. He pulled it free and became Spiderman again. But before he went out the door, he typed a quick "okay" to Dazai and sent it
"Alright, first thing in the morning. Save people from a fire." He jokingly said before he jumped from his balcony.
The building was burning when he arrived. Smoke poured from shattered windows. People screamed below while firefighters rushed toward the entrance. Chuuya landed on the street, and people immediately began to notice him.
"Oh my god, Spiderman!"
"Please help us, there's people inside the building!" That was all Chuuya needed to hear, he didn't hesitate and he ran, up the wall and through the window. Heat slammed into him and smoke filled his lungs. He took one deep breath and moved.
"Anyone here?" A cry answered from somewhere above, he immediately ran towards the third floor. His spider-sense screamed and he ducked just in time. A burning beam crashed where his head had been. "Jesus Christ." He muttered and breathed a sigh of relief.
He grabbed it and the metal groaned beneath his hands. A woman was trapped underneath, with her eyes wide when she saw him.
"Spiderman." Her voice trembled. "Please help me, I'm scared."
Chuuya's expression softened. "I know." He whispered and pushed harder until the beam finally lifted. "You're going to be okay."
The woman crawled free and Chuuya pulled her toward the window. "Jump."
She stared at him like he had suddenly lost his mind. "What?"
"Jump."
"But.."
"Trust me."
Something in his voice convinced her, and she jumped. Chuuya fired his web, I caught. He lowered her safely toward the firefighters below. Then he turned around because there were still people inside. So he went back. Again, and again, and again. By the time the last person was out, his arms were shaking. He stood on the rooftop. Breathing heavily.
Below him, people cheered at him. Someone shouted his name.
Spiderman, the hero. The protector, the symbol.
Chuuya closed his eyes, not in joy but because he didn't feel like a hero. He felt exhausted, and he felt hollow. All he could think about was Dazai.
Dazai sat alone in the restaurant. The chair across from him remained empty. He checked his phone, but nothing. He looked toward the entrance, nothing. He tried to smile but it didn't work. Then the waiter approached. "Your friend isn't coming?"
Dazai looked at the untouched plate. He gave him his charming smile. "He probably got distracted."
The waiter hesitated and blushed. "Should we cancel his meal?"
Dazai looked down. "No." The answer was quieter than he intended.
The waiter left with a bow. Suddenly, the Television near the diner's counter flashed a headline.
"A Building in Konandai Caught on Fire and Collapsed, But Spiderman Arrived and Saved the Day!"
The camera suddenly zoomed in on Spiderman while he tends to the little girl that he just saved from the building. Dazai's mouth twitch as he watched in amusement, Spiderman was everywhere. It must've been exhausting swinging around Yokohama, protecting people he barely even knew. Dazai couldn't help but stare at the table. Then his mind wondered off to Chuuya. He wasn't angry, but Dazai wished he were.
Anger would have been easier. Instead, he felt disappointed. The kind of disappointment that settled deep inside the chest and refused to leave. He had started looking forward to seeing Chuuya. At first he hadn't meant to, it had simply happened. Somewhere between the arguments. The coffee, the insults, the stolen food, the walks home. Chuuya had become familiar. He became comforting, important even. Dazai didn't know what to call that, so he didn't call it anything.
He simply sat there, waiting.
~~~
Chuuya arrived forty-three minutes late. The restaurant was nearly empty when he did. The food was cold and most importantly, Dazai was gone. He stopped just inside the doorway. His chest tightened as he looked around, hopeful.
The waiter recognized him and approached him. "You're Chuuya, right?"
Chuuya nodded. "Yeah."
The waiter glanced toward the empty table. "Mr. Dazai waited."
Chuuya swallowed. "How long?"
"Almost an hour."
Chuuya looked down, his fingers curled against his palm, shaking. "Fuck."
The waiter hesitated before reaching beneath the counter. "He left something, though." He placed a folded napkin on the table and Chuuya immediately opened it.
There was a single sentence.
Don't worry. I'm used to being left behind.
Chuuya stared at the words. Something inside him dropped. He read it again, then again. The sentence wasn't dramatic, strangle, there was no accusation. No anger, no demand for an apology. That somehow made it worse. Because Chuuya suddenly realized that Dazai had probably meant it.
He had been waiting, and Chuuya had treated that waiting like it was something guaranteed. Something he could always come back to, something he thought would always be there. He folded the napkin carefully. His hands continued shaking.
That night, Chuuya didn't patrol. He sat on the edge of his bed. While the Spiderman suit lay beside him. His phone was in his hand and he opened Dazai's contact.
He Typed, then deleted. He typed again, but deleted that too. Finally, he wrote:
I'm sorry.
He stared at it for a minute or two, then pressed send. There was no response, because of course, he took it for granted that Dazai was going to wait for him.
Ten minutes passed, then twenty. Then it turned into an hour, there was still nothing. But what would he expect? Dazai probably thought he stood him up. Technically he did, but he just couldn't turn his back from the responsibility the world had given him. Chuuya lay back against his pillow and realized the silence felt unbearable. His life had become a collection of impossible choices.
Save strangers or keep promises. Be Spider-Man or be Chuuya. Protect the city or protect the person waiting for him.
And somewhere in between all those choices was Dazai.
Chuuya closed his eyes. He didn't know what Dazai was becoming to him. He wasn't ready to know. Not yet.
Across the city, Dazai stood on his balcony, sake on his hand. The night was quiet. He held his phone loosely in one hand. Chuuya's message remained open.
I'm sorry.
Dazai stared at it for a long time. Then he smiled faintly. "Idiot." He placed the phone into his pocket. His gaze moved toward the skyline. Somewhere beyond the buildings, a figure moved between the towers.
It was Spiderman.
Dazai watched the distant silhouette disappear into the darkness. He didn't know. He didn't know that the man flying above the city was the same person who had disappointed him that weekend. He didn't know that the person who kept disappearing was the same person everyone else was calling a hero. He didn't know that Chuuya was carrying the weight of an entire city on his shoulders. And he certainly didn't know that Chuuya had begun carrying him too.
Not consciously, not completely.
But something had already begun. Something quiet, something fragile, and something neither of them had named. But somewhere beneath all the lights of Yokohama, the first threads of a web were already tightening around them. Neither knew where those threads would lead. Neither knew who had begun pulling them.
For now, there was only Chuuya.
Only Dazai.
And a distance between them that neither had yet learned how to cross.