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The day ended the way any other day would in Yokohama. With a lot of screaming and things breaking. But let us rewind back to the beginning.
Chuuya woke up feeling like something absolutely dreadful was going to happen to him. He assumed it would probably be caused by the joint mission he was supposed to have with that lazy mackerel later today.
He sighed and rolled out of bed, regretfully leaving his comfortable spot that was warmed by the light streaming through the open blinds. He hummed as he switched on the radio and pulled on a warm, light-blue sweater. He moved around the room, searching for his make up and a hair tie to put his hair in a high ponytail.
It was now autumn and the weather started to change, the air gaining a slight chill to it. But Chuuya didn’t mind. He loved autumn and long walks alongside the riverbanks, where the surrounding trees took on different colours, some resembling the auburn of his hair, some attaining a deep red colour akin to that of his older sister.
He danced around the kitchen while making breakfast, pondering on his plans for the day before the mission was due to start. Perhaps having tea with Ane-san? He nodded to himself, that sounded like a good plan. He would walk by the river, admiring the changes in the weather to get to the brothel. He should bring some sweets for the girls, as well, he thought, his heart squeezing as he remembered how young some of them were. How he would probably be in their position if not for his ability. Of course, they were housed, fed and protected by the Port Mafia, receiving a generous salary, but he knew a lot of them dreamed of a different, more peaceful life.
As it often happened, his musings were rudely interrupted by the sound of a window opening. He sighed, but didn’t bother turning around, knowing immediately who it was.
“What do you want, mackerel? Can’t use doors like a normal person?”
He took a second cup out of the cupboard, starting on another coffee. Two sugars, a little bit of oatmilk - Dazai refused to drink anything else. For a few heartbeats there was only silence.
“Why chibi, where would be the fun in that?”
Chuuya rolled his eyes and finally turned around, two cups full of steaming liquid in hands. He put them down on the kitchen table and sat down, leaning his head on his hand.
“Why are you even here?” he sighed, looking ahead as the mackerel slipped inside and moved to sit down at the table as well.
A beat. Silence.
Dazai hesitated and Chuuya frowned as he sat up to give him his full attention.
“To annoy Chuuya, of course! What other reason could there be?” Dazai laughed, the sound so fake it grated on the ears, although no one else was likely to pick up on it.
Wrong answer.
Before Dazai could sit down, Chuuya moved with a speed that surprised both of them, slamming his former partner, enemy , against the wall, a knife appearing in his hand seemingly out of thin air. He pressed it against Dazai’s throat.
“Why are you really here?” he hissed angrily, sick of the fakeness and pretending.
This is why he couldn’t fully forgive Dazai, he kept lying and scheming, like he couldn’t go against his nature. Not for me anyway, Chuuya thought bitterly. Their eyes locked and there was some kind of weird emotion in Dazai’s. What could it possibly be? passed through Chuuya’s mind, the thought disappearing as Dazai swallowed and the knife on his throat nicked the skin, blood trickling down and soaking into the bandages.
Chuuya instinctively moved the knife away slightly and Dazai grinned and pressed closer to him, triumph shining in his eyes. And yet there was still this unknown emotion lurking in them. Chuuya narrowed his eyes, chest feeling hot and constricted. Was it anger or perhaps something else?
"Look at that, it seems chibi doesn't want to hurt me!" he crowed and then gasped as he was forcefully slammed against the well again, breath escaping his lungs violently.
Nope, it was anger.
“Oh?”
Chuuya leaned in and let himself linger for a second, their mouths nearly touching and as soon as Dazai started moving, he smirked and leaned back, a flash of quite obvious disappointment appearing on the detective's face.
“So,” the redhead started conversationally, head tilting in amusement, “Why are you here?”
If Dazai planned on being fake, he could be mean in response. It was obvious Dazai couldn’t get over old habits... But neither could he . Not that he’d ever admit that. But still, despite their usual dynamic, it was Dazai that was a bit more transparent. Not that he was readable in any way, even in spite of that transparency, it was near impossible to know what he felt. He was disappointed, sure. But why? Was it because he missed their easy intimacy, the physicality of it? It was one thing Chuuya never doubted, the fact Dazai enjoyed their previous relationship. But enjoyment isn’t care and it certainly isn’t...Love. And Chuuya was sure that Dazai didn’t care about him. His behaviour now was proof of that.
Dazai huffed, annoyed that Chuuya could still see through him. The mafioso moved away, tired of their exchange. The brunette followed him and sat down at the table opposite him.
“It’s about the mission,” the detective admitted, taking his cup in hand.
Chuuya frowned, it was unusual for Dazai to be worried about a mission. He licked the spoon he just used to stir sugar in his coffee clean and lost in thought, missed the way Dazai’s eyes followed the movement.
“It’s about the ability user.”
It was a statement, not a question. Dazai still marveled at how quickly his ex partner picked up on whatever was bothering him.
He nodded, took a file out of the inner pocket of his coat and handed it over.
“It seems that the brief we got beforehand was incomplete. Ranpo figured out that the ability user we thought was going to be the weak link has a power of making people attack those they love,” he explained.
Chuuya’s eyes widened, immediately picking up on what Dazai didn’t say out loud. Both parts of soukoku are incredibly dangerous. Dazai being the former Demon Prodigy that managed to escape from the mafia and Chuuya was… Well, Chuuya was a God . Arahabaki rumbled happily at the back of his mind.
They came to an agreement recently, Arahabaki and he. Or rather him with himself. He realized that Arahabaki wasn’t actually a separate entity, but rather a part of him.This allowed him to understand his powers better, discovering a state close to Corruption, but one that he could still control and that, while still extremely exhausting, didn’t seem to influence his body as negatively. Perhaps this agreement was also part of why his speed and overall strength increased. But even without his ability, his affinity for knives, intelligence and mastery of martial arts would be enough to kill many people.
All in all, this situation was going to suck.
“So, what’s the plan then?”
“I don’t have a plan,” Dazai responded calmly.
“Yeah, right,” Chuuya snorted.
But Dazai didn’t even blink. It seems he wasn’t joking.
“Fucked, we’re fucked,” Chuuya groaned, “You better think of something, you fucking mummy, I don’t exatly fancy destroying the city.”
“Don’t worry your pretty head,” Dazai replied cheerfully, completely ignoring Chuuya’s stammered protest about how he is not pretty, “Everything will be fine.”
It was not fine.
Fast forward a couple of hours, everything was most definitely not going fine.
Sure, the beginning of the mission was going smoothly. In fact, it was going so smoothly, it was actually getting suspicious. Dazai and Chuuya shared a look, clearly thinking the same thing.
Something was really really wrong.
As soon as that thought passed through Chuuya’s head, there was an explosion and he instinctively reached out to protect Dazai from harm. And that’s when he felt the overwhelming urge to hurt the detective. He jumped away and forced his power down.
“Shitty Dazai, you need to get away now, that fucking ability hit me, it’s dangerous,” he gritted out.
“Nonsense, chibi, I’m the one with a nullifying ability here, you need me here!”
"Fuck, fuck, fuck, would you just be sensible and run?" Chuuya snarled, concrete breaking under his feet.
Dazai rolled his eyes and grinned.
"Silly chibi, this ability only makes you attack people you love! So, I'll stay and make sure you don't harm anyone you care about."
"Yeah. It makes me attack people I love. And I love you. So get your head out of your ass and RUN!" the redhead snarled once again.
Dazai stood there for a second, stupefied.
Then he started running towards the Ability User. Who had a gun. Who comes to an Ability fight with a gun, fuck.
"What the f— Shitty Dazai, get away from here!" Chuuya screamed, desperate as concrete seemed to break apart like tempered chocolate under his feet.
Luckily for both of them, it seemed like Arahabaki wasn't too keen on being controlled and Chuuya felt his power calming down. Just in time to stop a bullet from hitting that stupid, stupid mackerel. It only grazed him, as Tainted Sorrow changed the trajectory - serves him right anyway, who the fuck runs towards a criminal with a gun? Oh yeah, this guy.
The rest of the fight went relatively smoothly, as the Ability User seemed quite stunned that Chuuya got out of his control and so quickly at that and Dazai was able to apprehend their opponent. And if he was a bit more rough than usual, well, Chuuya wouldn't hold it against him.
A few hours later, they were licking their wounds back in Chuuya’s apartment.
The redhead cursed as he bandaged the scratch from the bullet on Dazai's arm.
"Are you stupid? Who the hell does something like that? T'es vraiment un idiot," he hissed, slipping into French in his agitation at the other's carelessness.
"Awww you really care," Dazai cooed before going completely red in the face and falling silent as Chuuya glared at him, seeming to remember his earlier confession.
"I think we already established that I do," Chuuya sighed and tied off the bandage, "unlike a certain someone," he added under his breath.
Before he could move away, Dazai caught his chin in his hand and forced Chuuya to look into his eyes.
"That's not true, I do care!" Dazai stammered out, panicked at the prospect that his chance was slipping away.
He never thought that after the betrayal Chuuya could still truly care for him, love him.
Him .
The useless pile of bandages who couldn't take care of himself, much less anyone else.
But you don't have to deserve being loved.
"And I do love you, in case that wasn't clear," he huffed, cheeks turning red once more under Chuuya’s scrutiny, "You don't have to believe me, but I… I would live for you."
The red head's breath hitched. That was… so he was actually sincere. To declare something like this was nearly impossible for Dazai, who absolutely hated showing emotion. And hated living.
Tears started falling down Chuuya's cheeks before he could control himself and Dazai panicked again.
"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I shouldn't have said that, I know you think I'm lying," he started backtracking before Chuuya laughed.
"I've never seen you so flustered, mackerel, how out of character for you."
Chuuya smiled and leaned up to shut him up. With a kiss. Dazai's brain stopped functioning. Maybe he could sacrifice some brain functions if it meant he felt so heavenly more often, with his personal God being the reason.