Work Text:
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The many times Chuuya has saved Dazai…
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By the time Mori calls him to his office on a regular Monday evening, Chuuya already knows some of it. About Dazai's… thing.
It's impossible to miss, with the other boy whining about death to anyone who'd listen. He half-believes that's the reason he even entertains having subordinates at all, despite being such a secretive, 'I can do anything by myself ' asshole; just so he can have someone following him all day long, that he can gush about suicide methods to.
Ane-san doesn't seem worried, in any case- or maybe Chuuya is not good enough at reading people yet?- when the subject comes up. She acknowledged it, mumbling about how depression dones different suits for various occasions, and not everyone wears it the same, when Chuuya had asked.
That enough would make him wary (so it is depression and not just him being a weirdo with a fucked up hobby), but all the adults around them just… let it be, so he does the same. If they are aware of the situation shouldn't they know how to deal with it better than him? Surely, someone would have intervened to help Dazai, if it were that serious. The Boss, at least, because he can't go a week without listening to someone gushing about how the mackerel's work in the mafia has raised it to previously unheard of heighs, and it just seems like bad management to lose an asset like that. Or Hirotsu, who more often than not tags along behind the lanky teen, like a tired grandpa being asked to babysit.
So Chuuya firmly decides he's not worried about it, that he doesn't like Dazai nearly enough (or at all) to care, and that it's none of his business.
Until Mori calls him into his office, a little over two months since he was first dragged here, and makes it his business.
"Boss, you… are you serious?!"
The man hums, eyes trained on papers that seemed to be in hieroglyphics, but he's almost sure it's some sort of coded message Dazai left.
Secretive prick.
"You were always meant to work together, Chuuya-kun. It's one of the reasons you were recruited; like how well you both handled the Rimbaud case. Now that your preliminary training with Kouyou-san is done and you have a feel of how the mafia works, you can accompany Dazai-kun in his missions. He's gone in a few by himself already, so be sure to hear him out, okay? He might tease, but following his indications will result in an assured success."
He can't believe this.
"If he's gone by himself before-"
"With some backup", Mori cuts in. "He is a priceless operative, after all. But Hirotsu-san is busy this week, and the two of you should get used to working together in any case, so no time like the present."
Ugh.
Knowing when he's beat, he lowers his head in acceptance.
"Glad you see things my way. Now, the mission starts tonight. Make sure to pick up your partner before heading to the airport, would you?"
So not only does he have to work with the bastard, he has to collect him too. Great.
"I don't have his number, Boss. How do I find him?"
Mori makes a disgruntled sound, annotating something on the margins of the report.
"Ah, I'm so used to Dazai-kun figuring things out on his own… I suppose you can ask one of his subordinates. A few of them should be in training room number four today, practicing their aim as per their superior's command."
That stings , the fuck? Okay, he's getting that fucker's contact information no matter what today. He's not gonna embarrass himself in front of his boss again. And being compared to that mess of a human being? Yeah, no.
Still fuming, he bows and leaves the office. First stop, his place so he can pack. Then, hunting season.
He finds Dazai's subordinates (and that's another thing that fucks with him- despite joining at basically the same time, he already has his own underlings, while Chuuya is someone else's, a dude named Piano Man; shouldn't the one with the best ability between them have the most power? It seems unfair) where Mori had said. Despite all suits looking the same, he recognizes the ones under Dazai's control immediately. There's an air around them, of despair and superiority at the same time, like they hate working for the kid but feel better than all the other grunts for it. It's infuriating and a little sad.
"Nakahara-san", one immediately bows, introducing himself as Tanaka. He remembers him from the time with the Sheep and his recruitment.
"I'm looking for your bandage-waster superior. The Boss gave us a mission. Where is he?"
Tanaka nods, turning to a woman at his right who had stopped working on the punching bag when Chuuya mentioned the bastard. She's on her phone before her comrade can even address her.
"Uhm, that's not our jurisdiction…Ume-san?"
"Give me a second… There. Hikaku from STRS says he was walking by the Tsurumi River a few minutes ago. They don't currently have a visual on him, but based on past behaviors and distance…" she turns the phone, showing Chuuya a map, "he should be in one of these bridges."
He takes note of the directions and nods, feeling like there's so much to address in that brief exchange but aware of how little time they have if they want to make it to the mission. So he just asks Ume to text him Dazai's number and leaves.
His reluctant partner isn't on the first two bridges, and Chuuya can feel the anxious press of a deadline gripping his gut, so he's in a very bad mood by the time he reaches the third one. Dazai probably won't be sanctioned if they are late, darling little mafia prodigy that he is, but Chuuya? He doesn't want to look incompetent in front of the Boss, not when the key to his past hinges on him getting an Executive position. And Kouyou had been clear on how hard that is- her being the youngest at 20. Dazai is rumored to soon become one and steal her title by rising to Executive at fifteen, but that's an exception, apparently, not the rule. So, his work has to be impeccable if he wants to know more about his origins before whatever they are catches up to him.
With that in mind, he basically flies to the last location, anger and impatience urging him on, already planning on how he'll smack the idiot over the head for making him run all over the city like-
Before he can even finish his thought, he finds Dazai. And the reality of what he sees then slaps him across the face like a bucket of ice cold water.
What the fuck. What the fuck?
What the fuck!
He wants to call out, say stop , scream . But he has something obstructing his airways (he can't breath ) and Dazai doesn't see him.
He jumps.
Chuuya doesn't think, barely aware of what he's even doing. He just moves, launching himself at top speed and colliding with Dazai mid air, arms around the bastards ribcage, planing on softly lowering both of them into the riverbank-
He forgot about No Longer Human.
The cold of Dazai's ability washes over him, soothing, not at all like what he's feeling. Chuuya's momentum means they don't crash smack dab in the middle of the river, closer to shore than they'd otherwise be, but they still fall inside it- which, even though it's summer, is still a disgusting, uncomfortable experience.
And Dazai isn't moving. Doesn't look like he's even trying to swim, or hold his breath- he just spreads both arms wide, eyes finding Chuuya's for a second before he closes them and lets himself sink.
Again, he doesn't think- grabbing whatever is closest to him (a cold hand) and using it to desperately drag Dazai up.
He breathes in deeply once they break the surface. Dazai just groans.
"Why is the Chibi here? Are you a rescue dog now? Shoo, shoo!"
He's - he doesn't think he's ever been this mad before. His fear has a way of morphing into anger, but there's something else here that he has no name for.
Despite how little they've interacted in the last month, Dazai is the closest he has to an age mate in the mafia. They aren't friends, or partners (yet), but there's an undeniable bond tying them together that he hadn't noticed until he saw the other boy jump to his death with no hesitation.
It felt asphyxiatingly lonely. And scary.
"What the fuck, Dazai?! What were you doing? Fuck", he stops, deciding to focus on getting them both to safety. Dazai is not being fucking useful, seemingly content letting the current drag him away.
Chuuya tightens his grip and kicks his legs harder, thankful for the fact that Dazai weighs like a hundred pounds, a little more than half of what he usually lifts, because the brat is dead weight.
Fuck- a rock. An unhelpful passenger. That's better, yeah.
He swims faster. By the time he's dragging the younger boy off the water and into the grass, he notices the suits descending upon them. Dazai's subordinates, probably- some are carrying towels, worried. Others check their phones, like their boss' attempts on his own life are the bread and butter they eat everyday and thus not important enough to forsake a mission.
(Ah- there's the white- hot rage again.)
Did Dazai himself train them like that? Taught them not to terribly care about him, as long as their daily assignments are completed? Money, guns and Intel first, a teenager's life last.
Or was it the Boss? He certainly doesn't seem alarmed about this behavior- he would have done something by now, if that were the case. There's no way he doesn't know. What about Hirotsu-san? Ane-san? Every other adult they've ever come in contact with? Is it just Dazai, or do they not care for anyone? If it were Chuuya struggling - would anyone help?
(Dazai would, he thinks. Annoying, smug and manipulative, but he'd showed up every time Chuuya had trouble with something these last two months. He thought it was to show him up and brag, but… well, he had done that, but he's also taught him the best ways to do the tasks he was finding hard.
Had anyone ever done something like that for him? Showed up without being asked, meddling in his business but ultimately helping?)
But this isn't about him.
"What", he gasps, snatching a towel and furiously attacking his hair, "the fuck. What the utter fuck. What the fuck , Dazai?!"
The other boy flops on his back. His eyes are back to that annoying flippancy, and he waves a hand dismissively as a man carefully sits near his head and gets to work on drying him.
"Chuuya is the one who should be yelled at. So rude, interrupting other people's business like that."
Violent energy coursing through his veins, the fifteen year old tugs off his coat, squeezing the excess water out of it. A helpful (or not so much, seeing they did jack shit about their boss' attempt) subordinate offers him his hat.
"Go to hell, bastard!"
"I'm trying -"
"What do you mean , I should be yelled at? I'm not the one who jumped off a fucking bridge and got both of us wet!"
Then, since he's a child, the absolute bastard snickers, fucking giggles , sitting down with no regard of his personal maid toweling him off. He mutters "That's what she said" under his breath, because he's terrible like that. Chuuya just saved a terrible person- what does that say about him?
It's not something even remotely okay to say, but in the midst of blind rage and the burning desire to kill his… mission-partner, he finds himself snorting against his will. He immediately overcompensates by punching him on the jaw.
"Ouch, Chuuya, dogs shouldn't attack their owners!"
"It's not funny, jackass!"
"I think it is- this is the direct consequence of Chuuya's actions, and he's behaving like a little kid about it."
"You-" he wants to punch him again, but the man drying off Dazai's hair looks terrified, so he snatches the towel and funnels his rage into rubbing it over messy brown curls. "Give me that. How the fuck is this the consequences of my actions? I'm not the one who jumped to certain death!"
Despite the rough treatment, Dazai sits still under Chuuya's hands. He just motions for one of the suits, who immediately offers a phone. Another one waits close by, a Switch in hand. Spoiled brat.
And Chuuya is drying his head. Damn.
"Not so certain, apparently. And exactly, I jumped. That was an action that only affected me. My business, if you will- that you meddled in. I didn't ask Chuuya to jump after me or drag me out."
The audacity is baffling. Chuuya drops the towel (he's the dryest he'll get, anyway, while wearing soaking clothes) and forcibly turns him around, grabbing him by the lapels of his white shirt.
"If I hadn't jumped, you would have died, asshole!"
The unimpressed blink he gets in return freezes him inside out. His hands spasm.
Chuuya's never seen Dazai eyes look this dead, this empty.
"That's the whole point of a suicide attempt, Chuuya."
The cold has traveled through his chest, down his arms and to his hands. He drops Dazai, who blinks again- just like that, the mask is back in place.
The lanky kid jumps to his feet, stretching like he just took a nap and not a dive in the Tsurumi River. A nearby subordinate immediately offers him his black coat that he apparently took off before jumping, and the Switch.
"Oh well. There's always next time. You said Mori-san had a mission for us? It's probably the thing in Spain, isn't it? Come along puppy, the airport awaits us!"
Chuuya remains sitting for a few seconds, watching as Dazai bounces over to the black car waiting for them at the curb. He looks like nothing's wrong with him, like he hasn't flirted with death ten minutes ago.
Like he doesn't flirt with death all the fucking time, apparently.
The subordinate still around Chuuya looks kinda apologetic at him, offering him a plastic bag of what he thinks are dry clothes. Dazai is most likely changing on the back of the car right now, too. Like he hadn't just-
"Sorry, Nakahara-san", the grunt apologizes. He has freckles and looks to be around Kouyou's age. "We normally have a better grasp on him, that's the entire point of the STRS, but this time he… was very sneaky. He's getting better at avoiding us, I think."
Oh. He actually looks worried- maybe not all of Dazai's subordinates are heartless pricks.
Chuuya gets up. He's not in the mood for a wardrobe change, so he just ups the gravity on the water sticking to him until every last drop has fallen to the ground. Soon he's dry again, but he doesn't feel any better for it.
"The STRS?"
"Specialized Tracking and Rescue Squad. But not everyone here is part of our group- the ones on their phones and focused on the mission are part of the Strategic Mobilization Crew."
So they are basically Dazai's own suicide watch and his task managers respectively. Which means this happens often enough and he's so overworked, that he needs both on call at all times.
Awesome. Great.
The man keeps talking. "We'll do better next time, so you won't be affected." Then, he bows deeply, bent at the waist with his hands behind his back. "We can't do much for him, so we try our best to keep him alive when we can- this failure will weigh heavily on us. Thank you for your assistance."
Chuuya has so much to say, and he knows how to verbalize exactly none of it. So he secures his hat, grunts something intelligible under his breath, and follows after Dazai, hands shoved inside his pockets
It'll be a while before he gets them to stop shaking.
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Chuuya tears ass across the warehouse, For the Tainted Sorrow's red hue lightning his path. There's wreckage as far as he can see, bodies and weapons laying over empty crates, under fallen debris, impaled by metal pipes still stuck to the walls-
Carnage. Destruction. Complete annihilation.
Another Chuuya and Dazai mission.
(The bastard would complain and say 'Dazai and Chuuya', but seeing how he's the one who sits on his ass seventy percent of the time plotting shit and Chuuya is the one who does the heavy lifting, he digresses.
They really need a cool team name.)
The TMS crew (Teenager's Maid Service, as named by Mori-san) are in for a long night again. They truly deserve a raise.
"He was last seen on the southwest section", Tanaka helpfully informs in his ear, probably keeping up with his progress thanks to the tracker on his comm link. If only they could do that with Dazai- it'll save them so much time.
Chuuya swears and violently turns, changing tracks at breakneck speed. Delicate use of gravity is the only reason his hat remains on his head.
"He probably knows you know he was there, so it's likely he already left. Northeast?"
In the comm's open channel, Ume (SMC's chief) and Hikaku (STRS' leader) argue about the merits of interrupting whatever the fuck Dazai is doing to check on him.
"Nakahara-san, if Dazai-sama is busy gathering Intel-"
"He was under a waterfall of bullets fifteen minutes ago, Ume! And he never deigns to dodge, because he lives to give me heart attacks-"
"I don't think he'd have enough time to reach the northern section, Nakahara-san", Tanaka muses, ignoring his bickering coworkers. "I'd say try the East side, on the lower end."
Ume's voice rises an octave on her offended disbelief. "He's a genius, he knows what he's doing!"
"He's also very suicidal and in constant danger, a very unhelpful combination!"
"Let the boy be! He's our Executive! You know how hard it is to get one of those seats? He deserves our trust!"
"If I let him be, there's gonna be an opening for one of them real soon!"
By now, he's so used to this -tracking down his partner while on comms with said boy's subordinates- that Ume and Hikaku's fighting becomes a white noise.
God, he wants to be done with this shit already. Missions with Dazai either end up going without a hitch, absolutely perfect from start to finish, or go up in flames halfway through. He used to think the second one was a result of poor planning on Dazai's end, or something unexpected throwing him off, but by now he knows better- that bastard sees everything coming. It's just that he doesn't see fit to tell Chuuya about it half the time, just for kicks, hence why it sometimes looks like it all went to shit from his perspective. He's learned to just go with the flow, do his part and then wing it; Dazai probably takes into account Chuuya being as he is, and calculates every and all decisions he could possibly make in any given situation, so there's almost no way he'd fuck a plan up by going rogue.
Yeah. He always plans for everything-
-Including, apparently, getting shot.
"Fuck. Found him!" He informs the peanut gallery, more to give Tanaka a break from all the bickering than because he cares enough to put them at ease.
"Do you need the STRS to head your way, Nakahara-san?"
Chuuya drops like a stone, landing in front of where Dazai lays against a wall, blood soaking the front of his shirt on his left side, and expanding.
Damn it.
"Vitals?"
Dazai has that resigned expression on his face, like he knows Chuuya's gonna save his ass whether he likes it or not. He sighs so hard his bangs raise for a second, shaking his head 'no' and slouching even more against the concrete; the perfect picture of a moody brat forced to answer.
"Chibi, why, you were supposed to be finishing rounding up the stragglers!"
"Tanaka lost track of you", he answers vaguely, getting closer. He lifts Dazai's shirt to look underneath and- good, it's just a graze. Losing a lot of blood, but not anything his subordinates can't fix. He carefully feels around the wound, trying to see if it'd need stitches. The bastard always refuses them, and as the only one not terrified shitless of him (beyond Mori who just doesn't give a fuck), Chuuya is the one who ends up having to hold him down to sew him closed.
"So forward! Take me to dinner before you start trying to cop a feel, sheesh."
God, he's insufferable. The only thing that makes this situation any better is knowing he hates being saved by Chuuya almost as much as Chuuya hates doing the saving.
"Nakahara-san?"
"Oh, sorry. No, just the pick up crew should be enough. I'll administer first aid on the car."
Dazai perks up. Despite not being able to hear what's happening on the other side of the open channel (he refuses to use a comm, because he lives to give Hikaku stomach ulcers), he probably knows everything that's being said. Creepy perceptive freak.
"Are you talking to my useless subordinates now, Chuu~ya?"
"Who's useless? They are literally the only reason I can stomach working with you."
"Hmm, brainless beings really do like to commiserate with one another."
Hikaku and Ume no-shit swoon, picking up their boss' insults on Chuuya's end. He can't understand their fanatical adoration for someone who literally couldn't give two shits if they live or die.
Whatever.
"Is Dazai-sama okay-?"
"Does he have any Intel that he needs my squad to process-?"
"Ume-chan", Dazai barely raises his voice to be heard, letting Chuuya apply pressure on his wound like he can't even feel it. "Have your puppies personally clean up the second floor of the factory two streets down from here, I left some documents there that we need- and make sure to burn the office after you do, I bleeded all over that carpet."
"Yes, Dazai-sama!"
"So that's where you got shot?!"
"Ah, Hikaku-kun", he continues, like he could feel his subordinate freaking out a mile away. "You'd probably like to know, I got shot when I came back here after gathering the needed Intel. The blood back there is from where I got stabbed."
Chuuya curses, ignoring Hikaku's unholy screeches to scan over Dazai's slumped body again. He hadn't seen blood coming from anywhere else, so where -
"It's his leg" he sighs again, leaving the ribcage wound to press on the other one. "I didn't see it because light is shit here and he's using dark pants. We need extraction."
There, for just a second- Dazai frowns. Barely noticeable (to anyone who doesn't work with the bastard more often than with anyone else), but it's there: disappointment.
He grits his teeth, but doesn't bring attention to it. Dazai always plans for everything, including the opportunity to die from blood loss. He knows this; there's no need to get upset about it.
"You should stop this before you send Hikaku to an early grave, you know", he goes for flippant, ignoring Dazai's knowing look. He seems almost grateful -as much as a soulless bastard could be. He hates talking about his attempts when it's clear he failed.
"I can always replace him."
If there's something Chuuya genuinely, truly despises about Dazai, is the way he talks about people, like they are disposable pawns. Like the lives of the ones who'd die for him matter less than a broken sake bottle, in his eyes. He does his best to grow a thick skin and understand it (Mori had been clear that caring for everyone would make his mafia life a short one), but he simply can't. His squad leader, Piano man, said that's what makes him human, and- yeah. He likes that enough to take the risk to care.
Still, now's not the time to delve into it. He forces himself to snort, the only sign of his annoyance being the extra pressure he applies to the wound. Dazai doesn't even flinch.
"Yeah, but do you know how smug Ume would be if he dies before her? She'd be unbearable."
That makes the other boy snort. He raises an eyebrow.
"Or heartbroken. Those two are definitely going to end up hooking up."
The gagging sounds (from Ume and Hikaku) send both Tanaka and Chuuya into fits of laughter.
"God, I got the ick! I'd never !"
"Nakahara-san, please tell Dazai-sama he's so, so wrong! Ume-san is so far from being my type she's practically an alien species at this point -"
" Excuse you ?!"
" You said I gave you the ick ! Don't act offended now!"
"My bet is on it happening sometime in the next six months", Tanaka joins the fray. The other two switch from insulting each other to verbally attacking him.
Despite his worry and anger, Chuuya smiles crookedly at his partner.
Another Chuuya and Dazai mission, indeed.
.
.
( Hours later, he's at the bar, complaining about Dazai to an amused Lippman, the rest of the Flags messing around on the pool table.
"...and then, after I stitched him up, he tried to jump off! The car was moving at 120 kmph!"
"Uh huh?"
"Yeah, I had to restrain him the rest of the way! And he never stopped complaining! Like, I'm fucking sorry for keeping you alive, jackass!"
"I see."
"And like, his poor subordinates, right? Except I'm sure they have some sort of degrading kink or something because no way they enjoy being treated like shit that much. It's so annoying to see!"
"Hmm."
"Also, it takes forever to find him sometimes! I swear he picks the worst spots to crawl to after getting hit during a mission, just so I have to spend hours searching. I could have come here earlier, but noooo, of course not, God forbid I enjoy a fucking night!"
"You could always just leave after the mission", comments Piano Man, joining them at the bar after decimating his other three subordinates at pool, his pockets visibly fuller than an hour ago; which is, coincidentally, how long Chuuya's been complaining about his partner for.
A little (a lot) wasted, he tilts his head, not following. "Huh? Whatdya mean?"
"You don't need to look for him, or coordinate with his teams, or stitch him up. Your job as a partner ends when the mission's done" points out the negotiator, filling up a glass for his leader.
He nods along, accepting the drink and raising it as a toast to Chuuya. "No one said you had to take care of him."
Chuuya harrumps, laying his arms over the bar top and burying his head on them, muffling his next words like a sulking toddler.
"No, I'm gonna."
Shamelessly eavesdropping, Albatross laughs.)
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Hikaku sends him a message one evening, when he's getting ready for an undercover mission with Albatross and Lippman. He curses, unlocking his phone with one hand while trying to get his tie to sit correctly with the other. A fruitless endeavor- Piano Man takes mercy and reaches down to help him.
There's no text, just a picture. A dark haired man, dressed in ratty clothing, about to enter Dazai's apartment complex. He has a suspicious backpack and carefully hides his face from the building's camera, but he's not good enough to notice the mafia underling hiding on the bushes with his phone out.
He doesn't recognize the dude, but he trusts Hikaku enough to know he wouldn't bother Chuuya if there was any chance he is anything other than Dazai's new dealer.
With Piano Man fixing his tie for him, he's free to type.
' I'll see that it's taken care of.
You make sure the asshole pukes it all out .'
Over his shoulder, Iceman looks at the exchange, focusing on the picture. Chuuya turns only slightly to look at his comrade, tilting the phone for a better angle.
"You got it?"
The affirmative grunt he gets in response makes him smile. Dazai's gonna be insufferable when his new friend fails to show up to their next meeting, but that only makes this all the sweeter to Chuuya.
Today's not the day he overdoses.
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The sudden lack of panicked messages on the STRS group chat makes a whole lot of sense, when Dazai introduces him to the kids and makes it obvious he's taking raising them seriously. He's seen the list - his drinking buddies had been smart enough to stress to him how trying to die while parenting two children could only be counterproductive.
Still, Chuuya's not fooled. He knows depression isn't magically cured by love or whatever Dazai feels for the brats. From trying to kill himself two or three times a week to not a single worried peep from the squad dedicated to keeping him alive?
Suspicious. Too suspicious.
So he does some research.
He asks the kids, as offhandedly as he can, if they'd seen which type of razor Dazai uses to shave.
( Did he get new razors after Chuuya threw out his last set?)
He doesn't need to shave, they answer. And if he did, they wouldn't dare enter his private bathroom anyway. Chuuya visits the very next day to 'teach the kids how to prepare mac and cheese' and checks for himself.
Gin gets a headache one day while Chuuya is babysitting, and he makes the subtle remark that Dazai probably has an entire drawer of pills, surely he had one that could help?
( Did he buy new drugs, after Hikaku made him puke them all out and Chuuya flushed the rest down the drain?)
They shrug and say 'it's not that bad, really', before going back to their homework. Ryuunosuke doesn't even glance their way during the exchange, too focused on suffering over what seemed to be algebra on steroids, but mumbles something about how 'Dazai-san was complaining he was out of Advil the other day'. It's enough.
He mentions wanting to set up a punching bag in his place, but with his roof being too smooth to hang it from there… maybe he could put it in their place? Has Dazai mentioned anything about his own rafters? About how sturdy they might or might not be?
( Is he planning on hanging himself? He hasn't tried that one in a while, but… )
That earns him a pair of confused, concerned looks. No, Dazai doesn't talk about the structural integrity of their roof, why would he?
He tries to be subtle, because Dazai is being careful to not let the kids see the worst of his pain- he's not gonna ruin that. The brats look at Dazai with stars on their eyes, like he's above everyone else, unbeatable, stronger than any demon that might lurk in the shadows- even the ones coming from his own mind. Chuuya wouldn't be a very good partner if he exposed Dazai's vulnerabilities to the very people he's trying to keep them from; so he stills his tongue and pays attention, keeping tabs on the situation using Hikaku's extensive network and Gin and Ryuunosuke's clueless text messages.
( When Doc asks why he even bothers, he's not quite sure how to respond. How can he properly describe mornings bickering over strategy names, evenings working side by side, nights spent at the arcade? Of finding his lost items in Dazai's office, and forcing a warm meal down the bastard's throat in retaliation? Of paying companionship and fun with care?
How can he explain the agonizing loneliness of being fifteen and alone in the mafia? Then turning sixteen and finding out he feels more human when standing next to his partner, his equal, despite having an elder God inside him?
When he's walking down the street, always on Dazai's blind side, it's like he's completely lost his gravity powers- he feels so unavoidably tethered to the Earth.
Grounded. At home.
He's my friend, he reluctantly answers.
Doc smiles, beatific, and says: I think it's more than that.)
He's at the bar with the Flags when his phone pings.
Polite Brat (02:45 am):
'I'm so sorry to bother you this late, Chuuya-san.
But could you ask Dazai-san if we can have ice cream?
I mean Dad*
Oda-san told him to not give us sweets until our cavities get fixed, so he forbade them. But Nii-san had a bad dream, and I thought maybe an exception could be allowed.'
He frowns a little, pushing Albatross (the nosey bastard) away so he can type.
Chuuya (02:47 am):
'Why don't you ask him yourself?
The fuck I look like, your mediator? '
Polite Brat (02:48 am):
'He's not answering his phone, and he said he was gonna spend the night at your place?
He was looking a little… tense. Or tired?
So maybe he's already asleep, but just in case he isn't, can you ask?'
Fuck. Fuck!
Chuuya (02:49 am):
‘How long ago did he leave yours’? Did Hirotsu-san pick him up?’
Polite Brat (02:50 am):
‘A little over 30 minutes now. Why, is he not there yet?
Hirotsu-san is here with us. Dad said he’d walk, since your place isn’t that far…’
Fucking damn it!
Chuuya (02:51 am):
‘Eat your ice cream and go to bed, brats.’
"I gotta go!" He yells over the noisy poker game the rest are playing, not waiting for an answer before he's dashing out of the bar. His car- he left the keys at the counter. No time, he’ll have to run.
Phone? Yes, he has it on him, good.
Hikaku answers on the first ring, vowels dragging heavily with sleep.
"Nakahara-san, is everything-"
"Where is he right now?"
There's a groggy, feminine voice coming from Hikaku's end. Chuuya can't focus on that right now- he'll apologize later for interrupting his night.
"Uh, I don't- I'm not on shift, let me ask Watanabe…"
"There's no time!"
The urgency in his voice seems to finally get through, because there’s the sound of rustling sheets as Hikaku apparently gets out of bed.
“What’s the situation?” he asks, grave and ready. Besides Tanaka, who coordinates all the squads under Daza’s immediate control, he’s the most reliable subordinate he’s met; there’s a reason he survived so long in the game.
“He left his place over half an hour ago, alone.”
“His students-”
“His kids are home, they don’t know anything, just that he left by foot saying he was coming to bother me.”
“Okay, it’s not as bad as it could be. But why didn't Watanabe raise the alarm? Fuck.”
“Have your men search the bushes around Daza’s building, he’s probably unconscious there.”
“Later, he’s not a priority. I’ll have them scout the closests bridges.”
“Check the alleys and park benches, too.”
“Damn, you’re right- I’ll also call Oda-san and Ango-san, maybe one of them knows something.”
“Good. Keep me informed.”
“Yes, sir.” Unlike most of the time, there’s not a shred of sarcasm on Hikaku’s voice- despite him belonging to Dazai’s squads, when it's about the man’s life, he answers to Chuuya alone. It’s the kind of bond they’ve forged after too many close calls. “Where are you headed? Should I rendezvou with you?”
Just then, Chuuya realizes he's been running towards a specific destination. He didn't even have to think about it, his feet knew where to go even while his mind was busy panicking.
"No, I'll - I'll check somewhere. If he's not there, I'll call you back."
.
.
.
He gets to his apartment in record time. Halfway there, he'd remembered he actually has an ability and flew straight to his terrace, completely bypassing the elevator ride that would have taken far too long for his tastes.
He knows he was spot on before he even lands- there's a bundle cuddled up on the lounge chair, among the plants he keeps on his balcony.
"Here you are, you fucking-"
He stops himself, touching ground right in front of the other boy, because… there's nothing wrong . Dazai's eyes are clear in the moonlight, without the haze of drugs. His wrists are covered in clean bandages, not a sign of any new injury to them. There are no empty poison bottles nearby. No noose on his neck, either.
One by one, Chuuya ticks off the possibilities in his mind. There's only one left by the end.
His floor is quite high up.
"Were you going to jump?"
From inside his bundle of blankets, Dazai takes out a bottle. It's a nice scotch - one of the few Chuuya owns, specifically to share with him since Dazai is a heathen that doesn't like wine.
He doesn't answer, but he looks up at Chuuya with something akin to a plea.
With a sigh, feeling the adrenaline crash hitting him straight on, he drops down next to the rotten fish he has for a partner. It's a tight fit on the single person lounge chair, but neither of them complain. He takes his phone out, noticing a few texts - Hikaku keeping him updated on all the places his people have already checked, the Flags, worried about his sudden departure, asking if he needs any help, and a shy 'wish Father a good night for us' from Annoying Brat.
He lets the first two know he's got it, and tilts his phone to show the bastard the third one.
"Those kids are way too cute to be yours."
Dazai hums, taking a long drink straight from the bottle. He offers it to Chuuya afterwards, swiping the phone off his hand to take a selfie, which he sends to the kids with a 'your bedtime was forever ago, go to sleep or double training~ With the paint guns! :D'.
"They are gonna have double training anyways, aren't they?" He asks, after the burn of the scotch goes down.
"Chibi is smart sometimes~"
"You are gonna give your brats trust issues."
"Good. That's the best kind, of all the ones I could give them. Keeps 'em sharp."
He snorts. Passes back the bottle, curling around his horrible, awful partner. No Longer Human washes over him, like a cold shower on a hot day, in sharp contrast to the warmth of Dazai's side against his.
Dazai drinks again. They both look down at the city below them, the flashes of light as cars sped by, the far away shine of the Ferris Wheel in the distance. It's a beautiful, clear night, and they can see each other perfectly fine thanks to the moonlight.
They pass the bottle back and forth, and Chuuya tries his hardest to not think useless things like 'indirect kiss'.
Dazai looks… different, under the silver gleam. Pensive and nostalgic, instead of cold and unflinching. He's wearing a big wool sweater, with nothing but bandages and boxers under the blankets, and still he looks so regal. Powerful, in a quiet way. Like there's nothing out there, on the streets under them, that could get to him, like he's so untouchable only his own hands could cause him harm.
(
Pretty, a traitorous voice chimes in from the back of his mind
)
He also looks incredibly frail, like that.
"I was going to", he speaks softly, under his breath. He takes another sip and passes back the bottle.
Chuuya instantly knows what he's talking about. He washes down the bitterness on his throat with more scotch.
"You are an asshole for planning to do that in my building."
"Where else? Can't do it at home, not with the kids, and Mori would catch me before I jumped from headquarters. And any random building wouldn't feel… right. I don't know."
"You are still a bastard."
"Hey, I didn't do it. Shouldn't that count for something? I had plenty of time before you showed up, slowpoke."
That's - true, actually.
"If I hadn't come… would you have done it, eventually?"
Dazai shrugs a little. The bottle is empty, and Chuuya floats it down to a corner of the balcony, flopping more insistently against the other boy afterwards. Dazai presses back.
"Probably. It takes a lot of self control to not do it, and tonight I… I'm not feeling very strong."
It's probably the alcohol talking- there's an empty sake bottle badly hidden behind Chuuya's gerbera flowers. But he feels the burn of the scotch on his stomach and Dazai's warmth on his side, so he grabs bravery from an unknown place and throws an arm around boney shoulders.
"Idiot, you don't have to be strong. That's what I'm here for- you think shit through and I kick people. Don't try to put me out of a job, dick. Besides, if it's a fight against yourself, it's best to leave it to me anyway; I can and will beat your ass any day of the week."
That gets him a startled snort, and he smiles in turn. He always feels so accomplished when he manages to drag an honest reaction from his partner. He tugs Dazai closer to his side.
"Heh. Maybe that's really why I came here. So Chuuya can be my tiny, violent mountain."
They sit in silence afterwards, and the night passes before them. Dazai is asleep by sunrise, and Chuuya could enjoy the view of how golden light washes over the city he grew to love, but he doesn't.
He prefers to watch Dazai breathing in his arms.
_____________________
"Listen here, twisted twins-"
"We are not twins, though…?"
"Don't care. Your deadbeat father left you in my care a-fucking-gain-"
"Don't call Father that! He's very hardworking and a role model!"
Sheesh, Chuuya loses like five years off his lifespan every time the brats say some shit like that.
"Whatever, kid. So, your unreliable parental unit has asked me to take you both out for some field work, while he's off doing God knows what -probably disappointing his ancestors. So! What do we do with these hostages, now that we've finally defeated their squad?"
It's a very nice way of saying "Mori is pissed about the way Dazai saved the Flags and as punishment has decided you two are field ready, so he's freaking out about you not having any real experience. The only way to keep him from freaking himself out to an early grave was to promise to show you guys the ropes".
Chuuya is still… he's not sure how he feels about the entire situation. He had been heartbroken, besides himself with grief after losing the people he grew to love as a family, that were always by his side, that had cared enough about him to bypass the Boss' orders and give him the files on his past because they thought he deserved to know. He'd seen the mangled bodies of Lippman, Doc and Iceman, and held Albatross's hand as he died.
(He hadn't been able to look at Piano Man)
In a second, everything he knew was twisted and broken, and he barely had any time to react before he had to fight, fight, fight . In a single night, he was alone again. Him against the world.
Or so he'd thought. Dazai had showed up and like a street magician, he snapped his fingers and everything was back the way it should be. He'd given Chuuya his family back. And even though he said he didn't care about the Flags, even though he clearly stated they were in his debt and that Doc was now his kid's Head Pediatrician forever, even though he sneered and turned his nose up when Piano Man had bowed to him on gratitude…
Chuuya had been so incredibly relieved, and maybe a little flattered. Because just before Dazai had left, arms and coat around his children like ducklings under their mama's wings, he'd seen the tiniest flash of brown eyes flickering in his direction, and a light, content smile. However he'd like to spin it to lie to himself, he'd done it for Chuuya .
Maybe being responsible for two young teens had taught him a thing or two about family, and the worth of other people. At least, enough to sympathize with his partner. Or maybe he just wanted Odasaku's praise… Whatever the case, it wasn't a random family he'd chosen to save, but Chuuya's. It was the proof he always craved, that showed his partnership wasn't one sided. That despite Dazai's jabs and the 'please die' he'd throw his way any possible moment, he truly cared.
He's not ashamed of how he tracked the bastard down afterwards, cornering him in a park (the dickhead knew he was coming and did his damned best to avoid him) and hugging the shit out of him.
( There… there might have been a- a little kiss involved. A peck. Really, just the barest brush of lips - like… a spur of the moment, I'm so thankful you're not that much of a dick to me kinda kiss. Nothing to it. Nothing to speak about, or remember. They've definitely not mentioned it since, it was such a small thing.)
(...if Hikaku's men saw the two of them heavily making out against a tree trunk, no they didn't.)
So he's happy to not be alone in the world right now, but very conflicted that it came by the price of risking Dazai's precious people. Gin and Ryuu had been training under Dazai for over a year now (they had their little 'one year adoption anniversary' party the other day, and Chuuya had, of course, been coerced into catering the entire thing), but they never went on missions without him. It was always one or both of them, Dazai and a veritable army of Dazai's subordinates. There were a lot of people that could jump between the kids and any danger that came their way… but not for this one. This mission, they'd have to take alone, with only a four men squad to help.
Dazai had almost scratched himself raw when he got the news. So even though he thinks they will do fine (Rashumon is finally able to shield Ryuunosuke, and Gin's been training with Verlaine, as if they weren't already terrifying before ), he takes them with him for easy tasks, so they can get a feel of it and Dazai doesn't achieve his suicidal dreams by giving himself an aneurysm two days from now when the brats have to leave.
Which takes him back to his current predicament.
Gin makes some hand gestures. Sign language? Chuuya knows they speak, having heard them before, but Verlaine had said something about silent assassin training. Maybe they learned it because of that?
Ryuunosuke nods to whatever his sibling said, translating.
"We kill them, of course."
The tied up goons at their feet struggle even more against their bonds, their screams muffled by the gags. Chuuya sighs- he doesn't even have the energy to be surprised anymore.
"No, they surrendered. They are our hostages now."
The brats exchange a confused look, like a pair of tourists that can't quite understand foreign customs, but won't bring attention to it out of politeness.
"Okay, so… we torture them."
More wiggles and covered screams. It looks like one of them pissed himself too, great.
"Wha- no. Maybe Kouyou-san will, but that's only if they have some valuable information, and they probably won't since the organization they belong to is so small. But, like I said, that's Ane-san's department; we don't decide that."
Again, that perplexed look.
Gin signs. Ryuunosuke nods.
"You're right, of course. We enslave them, don't we, Nakahara-san?"
Oh, look at that. He does have the energy required for surprise.
"...No? What-? Why would we -? What the hell, kids?"
Ryuunosuke makes this frustrated sound on the back of his throat that reminds Chuuya of a puppy. It makes him want to pet the rabid teen.
"But we don't know their political, racial or religious grounds, so we can't persecute them using that!"
The fuck?
Even the hostages stop struggling to look at Chuuya in utter confusion and more than a little concern. He has the strange urge to let them know he's not the kids father, and whatever is broken on their brains is NOT his fault.
Gin probably reads whatever Chuuya's face is doing the wrong way, because they pull on their brother's sleeve and show him a piece of paper, pointing at something.
"Oh", Ryuunosuke mutters, "you want us to take them off the city's limits? Like, deportation? I guess, if you want us to go the 'softie' route…"
"No! What the fuck are you reading?"
Gin tilts their head. Then, for the first time since the mission started, they talk.
"Dad gave us this to-do list, to use whenever someone attacks us... And they shot us when we were subduing their group, so…"
Thoroughly annoyed (and a little concerned, truth be told) Chuuya snatches the paper out of Gin's hands. Dazai's posh boy handwriting is immediately recognizable. The words are no less alarming because of that.
"...This says 'Geneva Convention' on the title."
"...yes?"
"These are war crimes."
Ryuunosuke snorts, snatching the list back.
"Don't be silly, that's a myth. Father said the only crime possible in war is to lose it."
"..."
This is why he didn't want to fucking babysit. Fuck.
'I owe it to the bastard' , he thinks, breathing in deeply.
"Let's take it from the top. So, when you subdue an enemy group and they surrender… "
.
.
.
It's… the worst possible kind of coincidence. Hikaku texts Chuuya that Dazai is nowhere to be found while he's rounding things up with the Akutagawas. He's not that worried (Dazai's tendencies have been at an all time low lately, what with him so busy with his brats and never having alone time between them and Chuuya's arcade challenges, dinner-attacks and forced self care routines) but he wonders aloud 'where that waste of bandages is', and Gin almost gives him a heart attack by popping up over his shoulder to read the text and say 'oh, I know!'.
"Jesus, kid, we need to put a bell on you. Damn. Anyway, you said…?"
They smile a little (Chuuya can tell from the way the corner of their eyes scrunch up, and if that doesn't show you he's spending too much time with kids that aren't even his own, no matter how much Dazai teases him about being an useless stepfather…), and nod. Ryuunosuke perks up when they sign, little hands bloodied after their field work, and translates for them.
"Gin says Father told them he was going to check a few of our safehouses today, to make sure they are stoked. The closest one is a few streets down from here…" he trails off. They both look so excited about the prospect of their father being near, and it's lunchtime, so…
"How about we stop by to check if he's there, and if he is we force the bastard to eat out with us?"
Twin eager nods are his answer, and he kinda wishes his coat was bigger, so he could put them under his 'wings' like Dazai does. They are adorable-
-for kids that use the Geneva Convention as a to-do list. God, they are all so fucked up, aren't they?
As they said, the safehouse is close enough, so ten minutes later they are leaving their shoes on the genkan. There's another pair there, which means they were actually quite lucky and the bastard was checking out this specific safehouse at just the right time for them to interrupt him. Serendipity or something like that.
Except, the slimy mackerel is nowhere in sight.
"Dazai? Oi, bastard, we're here!"
Silence.
"Father, it's us!"
Gin brushes past their brother, pointing at the hallway.
"Oh, yeah you're right. Maybe dad's asleep- we'll check the rooms, Chuuya-san!"
He leaves them to it, going to investigate the kitchen. Maybe their luck will continue and he'd have something to work with here, so they can eat in…
The sound of doors opening and closing follow him all the way to the kitchen, and he's about to enter when he hears Ryuu's exclamation.
"Oh, I hear water… It sounds like he's taking a bath. Father, can you hear me?"
Chuuya's heart drops .
He's not even aware of the way he dashes across the empty space, crossing the living room and though the hallway in less than a second, rushing to where Gin and Ryuunosuke wait expectantly by the bathroom door for an answer that's not going to come.
He knows what's happening in his soul, in a way he could never explain. With a hard shove, he pushes the kids aside and kicks the door open, wood splintering under his heel, nothing else on his mind than getting inside.
Fully stocked safehouses, he thinks grimly. Full of things neither he or Hikaku thought to get rid of, that would be far too tempting in Dazai's frazzled state.
And just as he predicted- the water is running, as does Dazai's blood, flowing down his arms and to the side of the tub. There's a puddle already formed on the floor and he gives a single second to lament that he's not alone there. He'd have liked to spare the kids this sight, the knowledge that their dad isn't okay. But the situation is what it is, and Chuuya won't risk his partner to protect their sensibilities.
He knows the second they see . Gin's loud scream and Ryuunosuke's quiet gasp are so out of character, so broken, that he feels like crying himself. This is not the first time he's held a bleeding Dazai, applied pressure to his arms and prayed it was not too late- but it somehow feels like the worst of all of them.
"I dropped my phone in the living room, call Hikaku and fill him in! And grab me blankets, towels, whatever!"
He carefully raises Dazai's limp, cold body out of the tub, cradles him more firmly against his chest, lowering an ear to his face. He's breathing, okay. Thank fuck.
There's no sound of rushing feet, so he snaps a loud "Now!" to the terrified children, very carefully avoiding looking at them. They rush out to follow his orders, but their sobbing is audible even with rooms between them.
He's seventeen, and shouldn't be used to having his partner's life fading in his arms, but he is. He can deal with this, fix it, and give them all a second chance to keep Dazai with them. But he can't handle the weight of those despairing eyes, being struck by the reality of what their dad kept from them. Of what he had to hide, to protect their happiness.
It can't be said that Dazai is selfless, or that he cares about other people's feelings, but he seems more and more willing to make exceptions ever since adopting them. He's been doing so much better lately, but depression does what it wants with him when his guard is down, and Chuuya knows this… this is gonna hurt everyone involved.
Himself included.
Fuck.
Steeling himself, he tightens his grip on the younger boy and, not for the first time, wishes Arahabaki hadn't given his hands the power to destroy, but to heal.
.
.
.
While normally they like to keep these… incidents between them, Chuuya and Dazai's STRS both know exceptions have to be made for extreme situations. When their tried and tested methods won't cut it, and Dazai manages to get far enough to do actual, dangerous damage, they need external help. A hospital, because Mori would use this as a chance to poke at Dazai's cracking mental health like it's an insect he's pinned to his table, and Dazai would feel like he has to kill Doc if he finds out the man has seen him at his worst like that.
So here they are, in the waiting room of one of their preferred underground clinics. Hikaku is further down the hallway, on the phone, probably coordinating with the other squads under Dazai's immediate command. Chuuya has slumped over one of the uncomfortable plastic chairs, used to this song and dance enough to know it'll be a while before they get any news. He's already changed into clean clothes on the bathroom (Hikaku is efficient like that) and informed Ane-san he'll have to take a raincheck on dinner, so he's solid for a few hours.
The Twisted Twins are… a different matter.
Ryuunosuke hasn't stopped pacing back and forth in front of the doors the doctors had taken Dazai through, hands twisting nervously over each other, hair a mess and breathing uneven (they forgot to bring his inhaler, fuck- he fires a text to one of his subordinates, hopefully they'll bring it before it's urgently needed). Rashumon is manifested, and it rumbles uneasily around the kid's ankles, like a disgruntled cat. It reminds Chuuya a little of the time Dazai had first introduced the kids to him, and then immediately dropped them off for him to look after- Ryuu had paced by the door until he'd put a stop to it, and then proceeded to anxiously glance at it every few minutes for the remaining days he stayed there. He's been better, all the other time's Chuuya had to babysit, but he can never forget how tense the kid had been, how worried he was about his dad, when he wasn't there. How scared of something happening to him while they were apart, so terrified of losing him. It looks like time hasn't changed that for the fifteen year old.
Chuuya looks away.
In contrast to Ryuu's familiar (but heightened) anxiety, he's never seen Gin like this. The kid is quiet, always has been, and training with Verlaine hasn't helped that- most of Headquarters has never heard their voice, and a good bit of them doubt they even exist at all. They enjoy moving through the shadows, and feel safe in them; that was the reason Dazai had decided to make an assassin out of them, he thinks. But he's never seen this type of quiet; sitting against a corner of the room, knees drawn up to their chest, arms around them, so small and silent most people walk past without even noticing the distressed child on the ground. Their face under the mask is lost and scared, like a child separated from their parents at the store. It occurs to Chuuya that a big part of Gin's confidence, their quiet assurance on their own strength, largely stems from the fact that they have such a solid supporter at their back. Or maybe, they are just a child who felt on top of the world due to their powerful father and now realizes power doesn't equal infallibility.
Chuuya takes out his phone to text Piano Man, resolutely not looking at either of the kids. He's not sure which one breaks his heart the worst.
Soon, Hikaku rejoins them, but it's just to inform Chuuya of an incident with the SMC that he needs to help out with. They manage all of Dazai's missions and projects, and the bastard is in charge of 70% of the Mafia income, so any assistance they require has to be immediately supplied.
He nods, straightening on his chair.
"I got this, I'll update you when the doctor comes out."
Like his words have broken some kind of spell, Gin rises from the ground, fluid like a river and graceful in their twelve year old body like no one he's ever seen. They don't have a speck of teenage awkwardness. Dazai spent hours gushing about how elegant his 'little assassin baby' is turning out to be.
Or how in control Ryuu is getting. Or how smart they are. Or how kind they can be, sometimes, despite all they've seen.
He's so proud of them. It stabs at Chuuya's heart to know that, if they hadn't felt the urge to have lunch with him, he might have never gotten the chance to tell them himself.
The littlest of the two siblings sits on a chair on Chuuya's left and, as if following some kind of psychic command, their older brother takes the one on his right.
Both look up at him.
Gin bites their lip, twitching in place for a second.
Then, after gathering themselves, "Is Dad going to be okay?"
God. Fuck. Damn it. He's not cut out for this- even if his friends all tell him he's good with kids, he's not a dad, and these aren't his kids. What if he says the wrong thing, and fucks them up beyond repair?
…but, hadn't Dazai called him the kids' step father? Maybe it'd been said as a joke, but things with the bandage waster should never be taken at face value; he's unable to do shit without at least five layers on them. So maybe, just maybe, they are a little bit his, too.
With that in mind, he throws an arm around each kid tugging them closer, despite their almost nonexistent height difference.
"The bast- your father… is sick. It's not the first time this has happened, and it probably won't be the last, but he always comes out of it more annoying than before and ready to fuck shit up."
He doesn't say 'he will be fine', because he's not about to lie to the kids. But it's true the man's ability to survive is unparalleled.
Sometimes (when he's drunk) Chuuya laughs himself silly thinking how Dazai is his own worst enemy, and he can never win against the fucker. How everything under the sun, including himself, tries to end his life, to no avail.
The Port Mafia's survival expert is a suicidal maniac. How ironic.
Some of that must show in his face, because the kids relax against him at last.
Ryuunosuke is never the cuddliest- he enjoys it with his father and endures it from their sibling, but doesn't reach for anyone else. The fact that he melts in Chuuya's hug is an indicator of how badly he was feeling, how much he needed to hear this.
Huh. Maybe he's a good stepdad, after all.
"I still need him", Ryuunosuke mumbles under his breath.
Gin nods, face hidden on Chuuya's neck.
He sighs.
"Me too, kids. Me too."
He hugs them tighter, and together they wait for news
_____________________
(He and Dazai roll on the ground, all aborted movements and curses, as they struggle for the gun on the Mafia Boss' hand.
They are at an impasse- Chuuya's powers can't do jack shit against Dazai's nullification, but he's physically stronger. Neither can seem to get the upper hand.
"Leave me alone! Let me just…!"
"No! Fuck off, you don't get to turn the criminal world upside down and then dip, what the fuck is wrong with you?"
"Chuuya- fucking- fuck off!"
"After you give me the gun!"
"Go to hell!"
He finally manages to get a decent grip on the weapon. Dazai's face falls, and he struggles with impossible strength.
"No! Please , Chuuya!"
He's begging. He never begs.
He wrenches the gun out of Dazai's weakened grip and throws it as far as he can, but doesn't move from his position, sitting on his Boss' (his partner's ) stomach. His heart breaks for the hundredth time when he looks down at him.
"Dazai…"
He had never seen him cry before. Not when Odasaku died, not when he overthrew Mori. Not this morning, when he had to drive him away from the detective agency, leaving the two biggest pieces of his heart behind.
But he's crying now. And Chuuya feels like someone kicked him in the solar plexus over and over and over-
"You don't understand. I sent them away , Chuuya- I sent my kids away. I left them at the Agency's doorsteps, ordered them to go. I abandoned them."
He doesn't know what to do, when his unbreakable, untouchable partner is like this. He doesn't have a guidebook on how to fix this kind of pain.
So he moves on instinct, leans down, cups his head between his palms, and kisses him.
It tastes salty, like tears. Their lips are rough, one's chapped from lack of proper care, the other's still not fully healed from a lucky punch in training the other day. It's clumsy, and their noses bump more than once.
He can't get enough.
It'd be kinda perfect- if the moment wasn't so sad. Because it's a little fucked up, that they were struggling for a gun five minutes ago and now they are making out on the floor of Dazai's apartment.
It shuts Dazai up incredibly quickly, and if the situation wasn't as heartbreaking, he'd make a comment on finally finding his mute button.
When they part for air, Chuuya rests their foreheads together.
"It was to keep them safe."
Is the only argument he has, and the only one he needs.
Dazai blinks, still dazed for a second, before the pain returns to his eyes.
"They hate me."
"The brats could never . And they'll forgive you, eventually. But you have to stay alive to give them the chance to."
Dazai opens his mouth, probably to deny Chuuya's perfectly sound logic. The only possible course of action is to kiss him again.
The discussion ends there, and Chuuya makes sure to properly dispose of the gun, but he knows the issue is far from solved.
It's a good thing his new job is to literally keep this bastard alive. He'll have to move in, but the place is big and it's probably for the best that Dazai isn't left alone with the reminders of his children wherever he looks.
He's finally gonna be paid for what he already does everyday, huh?)
_____________________
It's been a hectic couple of months. It always is, when there's a change in leadership- old grudges resurface, power struggles skyrocket and everyone thinks it's best to hit while the metal is hot.
Anyone who tries is put down with extreme prejudice, though. Verlaine is dragged out of his basement to help, Kouyou's sword needs to be resharpened every day and Piano Man is named Executive, after Ace's… unfortunate end.
And Chuuya? He's the busiest he's ever been. It's not easy being a Second in Command, he finds out. He's gone from being a member of the Flags, barely above a subordinate, to having the power to order everyone except the Boss (officially, at least) around. The power doesn't go to his head, he never wanted it in the first place, but it's wild that he has enough people to delegate whatever he wants and he's still running around all day.
Still, despite the mess, he's kept his guard up. Hikaku is on leave (Ume just gave birth to their firstborn, he owes Dazai so much money ), so Chuuya's appointed Iceman to be the Boss' immediate guard for when he's away from headquarters conducting business- he's not risking an underling with delusions of grandeur getting a lucky shot while he's out dousing fires. Albatross drives him everywhere and Lippman screens everyone who demands an audience with the new King of the Underworld. Hirotsu-san himself prepares his meals when Chuuya can't, and Doc does regular checks in, risking life and limb everytime because Dazai is a brat who bites when he's unhappy.
( Or when he's happy, he thinks, blushing a little. )
Everything should run smoothly, but Chuuya's not fooled. After the gun incident, Dazai hadn't made an attempt. He's focused on running a tight ship on the organization, making changes here and there that make no sense to anyone until after he's done and the results are undeniably amazing. He's working like no tomorrow, something that's rarely happened before, to the point that Chuuya has to lie beside him to make sure he actually goes to sleep and doesn't just do paperwork in bed.
( Shut up, Albatross, it's not an excuse to sleep together)
But still, he knows that can't last forever. So when the other shoe drops and Iceman calls him in a panic, saying that he lost the Boss inside his own office, Chuuya is ready. He calmly takes out the blueprints of Headquarters he has saved on his phone, looks up all secret passages and leaves his men to finish the rebel group up, flying away.
Like he expected, Dazai is standing on the very edge of the building. He lands behind him, making mental plans to have the entire thing fenced as soon as possible, and forces himself to sound unaffected when he asks Dazai what the fuck he thinks he's doing.
"Everything looks so small from up here. Like it's a city full of Chibis", the boy (they are eighteen , on top of the world, and it's still not enough ) musses, red scarf flaring in the wind. He hasn't turned to look at Chuuya, but he's tense, so he stays put behind him, wary of spooking him into jumping.
"Break time is over, jackass. You should be in your office, I know for a fact Piano Man just sent you a jewels' contract he needs you to approve."
He heard a sigh. Slim shoulders hunch.
"I'm so tired, though."
He swallows, hard.
"Well, it's late anyway, mackerel. We can take a half day and go back, watch that awful movie you've been nagging me about-"
"You know I don't mean that kind of tired."
He takes a tiny step forward. Dazai shifts in place, dangerously closer to the edge. He freezes. It feels like a fucked up game of red light, green light.
"You are overworked, of course you feel like shit. There's still a lot to do, though, so you can't leave-"
"The Slug can handle it."
"Dazai, everyone needs-"
The man turns, facing Chuuya, back to the abyss. His eyes are exhausted. He looks ready to give up.
"You don't need me", he states, serious as he's ever been. Final, in a way that's scarier than his Demon Prodigy stunts ever were.
He takes another careful step forward.
"I-"
"You said it yourself, remember? You are my strength, not the other way around. You don't need me to keep going. Sure, it'll be a mess, and you'll have a lot of new responsabilites, but you'll be fine", he smiles. It breaks Chuuya's heart that it's the most honest one he's ever seen from him. "You have your family", then, softer, he repeats, "you don't need me."
He tilts backwards, as if done with his little speech. The world shifts on its axis, rearranging itself on Chuuya's mind at the very real possibility of spending the rest of his life without Dazai on it.
No. No .
He can't imagine a world with him gone .
It's a knee jerk reaction to dash forward and take his hand, just before Dazai's feet leave the concrete edge. No Longer Human washes over him, for the first time not a comforting freshness but a threat; if they fall, he won't be able to catch him. They'd both die.
It still sounds better than letting go and watching it happen.
"No, maybe I don't need you, not like Gin and Ryuu still do, even when they are away", he admits, breathless in his panic. He tugs at Dazai's hand, trying to drag him to safety, but the bastard is stubborn and digs his heels.
"Exactly, so-"
"But I want you, dumbass! I want you here with me! Not because you are the Boss and shit will hit the fan if you leave so soon after seizing control, or whatever bullshit you're thinking of, but because you are my partner! You are mine , shithead! No one can hurt you but me, not even yourself!"
Dazai stops, blinking rapidly and opening his mouth in wonder. They've never… talked about it - not when they were younger and high on life, making out against trees, or when shit got thought and the only escape was sharing the bed and their breaths. Communicating was never a priority, and neither of them was mature enough to take the first vulnerable step.
But Chuuya feels like he'll lose everything if he doesn't speak now, so he does. He tugs Dazai harder, finally getting him one step away from the edge.
"You are mine, and I want you."
The words stun him probably even more than they shock Dazai, but he soldiers on.
"I love you , you piece of shit."
Another tug, harder. The danger isn't imminent now, two steps from the abyss, but he keeps going. It won't be completely safe until Dazai gives in, and now that he's started he can't seem to shut up.
"I've loved you since we were sixteen , and I swear to love you all my life, no matter what happens or what it takes. I'm powerful, I can bring down mountains, kill everyone who opposes you, bring you every world leader's head on a silver platter if you want…" he squeezes his pale, shaky hand, his other arm raising to softly touch Dazai's cheek. "But I can't let go. I'm not that strong."
He stops, breathing heavily and using all that remains of his bravery to look at Dazai straight to his eyes- the bandage covering one being torn away by the wind around them. He looks overwhelmed, deeply affected by Chuuya's words, happy and lost at the same time.
He can relate.
"I know love can't fix everything", he says softly, the hand holding Dazai's moving to circle around his waist. "But let's try together."
A pause.
" Please ."
Silence. A thundering heartbeat. Dazai's eyes had never looked so bristling with hope, so full .
"...Let's go home, Chuuya."
_____________________
_____________________
…and the one time Dazai returned the favor.
_____________________
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Honestly… it's a miracle this hasn't happened before.
After Chuuya's confession on the roof, things have been going… not perfectly fine , but smoothly at the very least.
It's been four years since Dazai's last serious attempt. Sure, he makes jokes, and once in a while he'll take a dip in the river, but he's been so good about taking care of himself lately, or letting Chuuya do it for him when he can't. He speaks when it gets bad, which lets them take action.
He's trying.
( He's been so good for Chuuya. He makes sure to properly… reward him for it; it's important to reinforce desired behavior, according to the psychology book he's been reading.)
In all this time, the Mafia has grown and grown and grown . Under Dazai's tyrannical yet careful hand, it evolved into something never seen before. The power they held, Mori could have only dreamt of. Civilians respect the Port Mafia subordinates more than any public servant. Foreign dignitaries stop by the Boss' office before even meeting with the Prime Minister, when they visit Japan. The government stays carefully on their periphery, never breaching into mafia territory without explicit invitation. The Special Abilities division sacrifices Ango like a lamb fit for the slaughter everytime they want to have any kind of exchange with the Mafia, and Dazai gleefully enjoys every chance to make him squirm. Money flows like a waterfall, strong, steady and plentiful .
They are twenty two and the world is at their feet.
The only entity with some sort of pull over them in this city (or the country) is the ADA, by virtue of counting with two very special individuals in their ranks. The Prince and (as he's finally found out) Princess of the Port Mafia have remained on the side of the light, and flourished there, but they have never forgotten their roots. Long talks and multiple apologies had been needed, and eventually the children and their father found themselves reunited. They haven't moved back in, comfortable where they are, but monthly and sometimes weekly dinners are a must.
Which, all in all, is exactly why Chuuya is so surprised his relationship with Dazai had been kept a secret for this long. A secret from the kids, at least- half the Port Mafia had seen them holding hands or kissing in the hallways at least once, and every person holding any kind of power in the city knew better than to flirt with either half of Soukoku.
But Gin and Ryuunosuke, for all that they've seen them cuddled up on a couch or sharing private words in intimate whispers, have always attributed that to a long standing partnership and (Dazai laughs himself silly everytime he says it) friendship . Even the innuendo-filled comments Albatross made last Christmas (when the Flags, Ane-san, Hirotsu-san and Dazai's kids had come for dinner) hadn't made it through their willful ignorance.
Dazai insists the kids truly don't have a clue. Chuuya thinks they do, and just choose to believe in a fantasy world where their father lacks any sort of romantic or sexual inclination.
As always, regrettably, the tall brat is right. He just wishes they didn't find out like this .
No matter how hilarious Dazai found the entire thing.
They were busy, okay? Being buried to the hilt in his partner, who's deliciously bent over the couch facing the front door, is distracting . Dazai's barely there moans (muffled by the tie Chuuya had stuffed into his mouth, because the brat kept mouthing off) are the only sounds his ears pick up, all he can focus on. It's a melody he'd never grow tired of…
So even though he might have subconsciously heard the approaching voices, he didn't really register them until they were too close for them to do anything. Until the door handle turns, leaving them wide eyed, still joined together, startled like deer caught in headlights.
"Dazai-san said not to bother him this afternoon! You can't go in!"
"Don't speak to me, were-tiger. This is my Father's house. My house. I can come and go as I please! You are the one who's intruding here!"
"Akutagawa!"
"Nii-san… maybe we should have called ahead?"
"Why, because a peasant wants to believe he's important enough to tell me where I can or can't go? Not in a million years. The Secretary should know his place."
"I'm an Assistant , and you are gonna get me in trouble! Dazai-san was very clear-"
"And I care, why?"
"Oh, here guys, it's open- AHHHH!!!"
"What's the matter, Gin? Why aren't you going-IN?!!!!"
The demonic screeched that follows are expected. Even Gin (quiet, mild mannered, sweet Gin) is screaming into her hands, turned away from the sight her brother is helplessly gawking at.
"MY EYES!! DAD , OH MY GOD! AND WITH CHUUYA-SAN ?!"
Ryuunosuke, frozen in his horror, is silently staring straight into Chuuya's eyes, his soul . Visibly doing his best to avoid looking at his naked, bent over, currently in the middle of being fucked Father.
Dazai, because he's a terrible human being who doesn't deserve rights, spits out the tie and starts hysterically laughing. He slumps over the couch, leaning down so his lower half is hidden behind it, and shamelessly smiles at his newly traumatized children.
"Well, ducklings, I think it's time me and Chuu~ya tell you something that might shock you. When a Father and a daddy love each other very, very much…"
The door slams closed in what probably is Atsushi's first self preservation act, locking the family of three (plus a mortified stepfather) inside.
"Uhm… okay, kids, listen… I can explain. Osamu and I…"
" RASHUMON !"
"RYUU-CHAN, FUCK, NO! NO LONGER HUMAN! CHIBI, RUN!"
He's not proud of it, but jumping out of the balcony butt naked is the only viable course of action. He feels like a teenager who climbed through his crush's window, being caught in the act.
Except it's worse, because instead of an enraged parent, he has to explain himself to his boyfriend's very protective, very jealous son, who's actively trying to murder him.
So, he flies (high enough no one should be able to see his bare ass) straight to Lippman's place, who lives the closest by, to hide for a little while. He'll come back of course, after Dazai texts him it's safe to, and have a mature conversation with the children. But for now…
He's happy to let Dazai protect him, for a change.