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Corruption had always inspired nightmares for Chuuya. Even though he knew he had the choice not to use it, that no one could force him out of control, it still plagued his dreams. Sometimes his mind conjured up Arahabaki himself, as a separate entity. Other times it was just Chuuya: attacking, killing, and tearing apart the people he cared about. The people he killed would change often: Kouyou, Mori, Akutagawa, Gin. Dazai had been in them when they’d been partners, but after the traitor left, he stopped starring in Chuuya’s nightmares. Apparently, if Dazai chose to leave Chuuya’s life then he’d leave every part of it. For four years it was like that, Dazai never once showed up in his nightmares. Then Chuuya met him again, twice after such a long time of nothing, and suddenly the executive’s subconscious latched onto the man’s existence once again.
It was black, not dark, but just pure black. If Chuuya didn’t know better he’d think his eyes were closed, but he had the sensation of blinking. A growl erupted from behind him and the redhead whipped around with a defensive stance. Even in the blackness he could almost see movement, like his brain was trying to supply the sounds with a shape, a corporeal form. Chuuya didn’t move and just tried to track the faint shifting. Suddenly there was a whoosh of air that blew in his face, he flinched back, startled, but something grabbed his upper arms. He felt a hundred tiny pricks into his skin, the feeling of sandpaper on his arms. When he tried to get away he felt something move through him. It felt like walking through thick steam that clung to your skin, the humidity was suffocating. Then it was gone and Chuuya was panting in the normal air that had returned. He felt wrong, like something was clinging to his lungs and clouding up his mind. His heart pounded in his ears and he barely heard the throat clearing itself behind him.
Chuuya pivoted around and took a step back in caution. Dazai was standing before him, with his tan coat and bolo-tie. But was that really what he looked like? It made the executive disoriented to look at him, it felt like the man standing there was phasing in and out of existence. Changing between the way he had looked during his mafia days and how he looked last time Chuuya saw him. It was hard to focus so the redhead let his eyes drift to side before he opened his mouth.
“What are you doing here?” His voice felt like ice coming out of his throat and he shivered. Dazai grinned that fake grin at him before disappearing. Chuuya felt his confusion increase and he took a step forward when he felt the sharp pain of a knife sliding into his back, right below his left shoulder blade. He stumbled forward and looked behind him to see Dazai grinning at him, before he twisted the blade to the side and ripped it out. The redhead fell forwards and it felt like hours had passed before he hit the ground. He closed his eyes in pain and when he opened them again he was standing. Dazai was gripping his side and blood was pooling on the ground, his eyes had dark circles under them that spoke of the amount of blood lost. He looked angry and worried. Chuuya looked down at his hands to see the knife from before gripped tightly in his palm. The redhead looked back up at Dazai before his body moved on its own and he grabbed the brunet’s shoulder tightly. The blade was knocked out of his grip when Dazai fought back and they tumbled to the floor. They punched, kicked, and shoved. Both of them trying to gain the upper hand.
Chuuya managed to get his hands on Dazai’s throat and he gripped it tightly. Brown eyes blew wide as their owner tried to dislodge the choke-hold. Chuuya gripped harder and Dazai flinched in pain and tried to get away with more insistence. Chuuya tightened the hold until he felt something crack and Dazai finally stopped moving, his hands falling down to hit the black ground. The redhead slowly pulled his hands away before he felt the feeling that had settled over his mind and lungs dissipate. His body felt like his own again and he stared down at the body below him before he started to shake. His hands stuttered as he reached for Dazai’s face. He opened his mouth and croaked out Dazai’s name, it sounded too quiet, so he said it again, louder, and louder, and louder. Until he was screaming and his throat felt like it was burning.
Chuuya jolted awake, he stared at the ceiling for a while, afraid to move, the remnants of his nightmare slowly slipping away. He sat up shakily and grabbed his phone, it read 3:42 am and he just stared. His fingers decided to move on their own and suddenly he was looking at the dialing screen, the sound of ringing filling his bedroom. There was a click before Chuuya realized what he’d done.
“It’s rather late to be calling me Slug” Dazai didn’t sound the least bit tired considering the time, but more importantly he didn’t sound dead. Chuuya tried to think of an excuse for calling him, one that wouldn’t get him mocked, when he couldn’t come up with one he just hung up hastily. He rubbed his hand over his face, he was severely disappointed in himself. One bad dream with Dazai in it and his self-control was shot to hell.
Chuuya got up out of his bed, he wasn’t going to go back to sleep, he knew that much. Maybe a walk around the block would help to tire him out. He grabbed a jacket and slipped on a pair of shoes. Opening the door and grabbing his keys he headed out.
It was cold despite it being summer, the chill in the air was doing more to wake him up than to wear him out. He suspected that this walk wasn’t going to do him any good. He wished he’d brought his cigarettes, they might’ve helped him relax. He ran his fingers through his sleep mussed hair and growled in frustration. This whole situation was stupid, he had these nightmares all the time. He didn’t call anyone else after them, he hadn’t done that since he was sixteen. He’d gotten used to them, they were still terrifying but he could deal. He sighed and dropped his hand to his side.
He was already outside so he might as well walk the block before turning back. He tucked his hands into his pockets and watched his feet as he walked. The quiet sound of a city still asleep wasn’t helping to calm him. It felt like everything was muted and dead. He flinched when that thought crossed his mind. He took a deep breath to calm himself and gripped his hands into fists.
“Stop being stupid, you’re awake now, you’re in control” He mumbled to himself and turned the corner. His brain was whirring with white noise, so much was happening in his mind that he couldn’t even keep up with the thoughts. He had no clue what to think or what to do. Too much and too little were happening all at once. As he got closer to his home he realized that if this was going to keep him awake for the rest of the night then he might as well go into work and get something done. The wind blew the chilled air through his hair and the redhead pulled his jacket closer to himself. Walking in pajama pants probably was a bad idea.
He walked up the stairs on auto-pilot and pulled out his keys. Once he found the one for his front door, he looked up, and immediately stopped short. Dazai was standing outside his door looking down at his phone. He was clad in his tan coat and a flash of blue on the brunet’s chest told him that the bolo tie was there too. He looked like he had in the dream and a part of Chuuya’s subconscious worried that he’d start to phase out like he had before. But he didn’t and when Chuuya took another step forward Dazai looked up and locked eyes with him. He looked bored on the surface but Chuuya could swear that he could see a flicker of something in his eyes. Dazai looked him over and the corner of his lips twitched down just a bit, something barely noticeable.
“What are you doing here?” Chuuya questioned hollowly. Dazai held up his phone and waved it in Chuuya’s direction.
“You called me at four in the morning, then hung up, that’s usually cause for concern, hat-rack” Dazai had a point, the executive could’ve probably texted him to say it was an accidental call, or come up with another excuse. Chuuya moved past the detective and unlocked his front door. It gave himself something to focus on as he thought of a reply.
“I didn’t mean to call you, Mackerel just happens to be right next to Mori in my contacts” Chuuya lied as he opened his door and stepped inside. He turned around to block the doorway, Dazai had indeed been intending to follow him inside. The brunet looked down at Chuuya looking over his face closely.
“You’re a horrible liar Chuuya” The executive did his best to keep any reaction off his face. He refused to show any weakness. “As if you’d ever have Mori in your phone under anything other than ‘Boss’” Dazai rolled his eyes and a little grin settled on his face. Chuuya looked to the side guiltily, Dazai was right and that was irritating. The redhead mulled over just slamming the door in his face instead of continuing to talk. There was silence for a minute before Dazai spoke again. “Your nightmare must’ve been pretty bad for you to call me” Chuuya jolted and shot Dazai an angry look. He hated that Dazai could always just read him, when Chuuya could only read his ex-partner 50% of the time. Which was more than most people, but still. Chuuya continued to try to burn holes through Dazai’s face without replying. The detective held out his hand and Chuuya stared at it as his anger changed to confusion.
“What are you doing?” Chuuya snapped, his defensiveness taking the forefront of his mind.
“Giving Chuuya a way to make sure everything is real, now hurry up and take my hand, my arm is getting tired” Dazai complained. The redhead looked between his face and the hand in front of him. He slowly removed his hand from the door handle and slipped it into Dazai’s. There were calluses from years of weapon use, the ones along his palm, ring finger, and pinky. Those rough sections mirrored his own, only more defined since Chuuya didn’t use guns nearly as much. Barely had the executive tightened his grip on Dazai’s hand when he was yanked forward. It said something about how out of it he was to let his guard down so much. But Dazai wrapped his arms around him and tucked Chuuya’s head under his chin. The redhead felt the warmth of his breath blow back onto his cheek from the closeness. The tension slipped out of his body at the solid proof, the tangible feeling, of Dazai’s existence. Dazai was fine, Chuuya was fine, everything was fine.
Chuuya sunk further into the embrace and wrapped his arms around Dazai’s chest. His anxiety started to simmer down, not completely gone but on its way to being so. Chuuya sighed in exhaustion and Dazai hummed in response.
Maybe Chuuya would be able to fall asleep after all.