Archive of Our Own ^beta

Today is the second greatest day of Chuuya's life. Only to be surpassed by next week. Why? How does he know that next week will be even better?  Because his life's greatest dream has finally come true.

"You will be going to pick it up next Thursday, the employee will help."

"Of course boss. If I can ask, why? And why now?"

"The YPD has finally made the funding for their own department and being able to counter them is important. We have ability users who can mimic them, but this way all our members could, in theory, cover this. Make no mistake, our team will be much smaller, but they should still be able to get the job done."

"Yes, but, why me?"

"As far as I knew, you wanted one. Besides, you are the one best equipped to handle the new group, and to lead it, you must be part of it. This is an order, Nakahara."

"Yes, Boss."

They continue to talk about what Chuuya's new duties will be, where the dog will be staying - his house - and anything else Chuuya needs to know. Finally, Chuuya gets a dismissal.

Chuuya gives one last bow before taking his leave. The door is just barely clicking shut behind him when he throws his hands up in victory.

The walk home from work is wonderful. The sun is setting early, thanks to early spring, and warm colors paint the sky. The light shines on the water, sparkling on the waves.

Home is quiet, but there's a slight clanking coming from their kitchen. Chuuya slips his shoes off alongside his gloves, leaving them at the door.

"I'm home! What do you think you're doing, Menace?"

"Chibi's home! Welcome home, I am making dinner."

"You know you're banned from the kitchen." Chuuya pads to the kitchen, socks muffling his footsteps. Dazai is there, standing over a pot. The stove is on, and the water is starting to bubble.

"Fret not tiny Slug, I'm making instant noodles."

"M, good."

 Chuuya drapes himself over Dazai's back. There is only one good thing to come out of Dazai being taller than him, and that's that snuggle time is great. Dazai can wrap around him, settling over him like a weighted blanket, settle into his bones until all that's left is one person with four arms, four legs and one heartbeat.

"How was work?" 

"Good, and yours? Solve any crimes today, Mister Detective?"

"Not really. It's so boring, Chibi! All paperwork! Kunikida yelled at me for twenty minutes straight today!" 

"You are going to give that poor man a stroke."

"That might be fun!"

" Dazai."

"Okay okay, I will make sure to take it easy on him tomorrow."

"Good."

The kitchen is quiet as Dazai pours the noodles into two bowls, pressing one into Chuuya's hands. The glass is hot, stinging his palms. Dazai grabs his own bowl and starts to leave. He bypasses the table and instead heads straight for their couch. 

Chuuya follows, and places his noodles on the coffee table, snagging a blanket instead. Dazai's already on the couch, nestled into the arm, long legs spread out on the seat. 

Rather than ask him to move, Chuuya crawls between them and settles his back to Dazai's front, leaning against him. He throws the blanket over their legs, and reaches to grab his dinner from where he placed it on the table.

For as much money as he makes, and as much as he knows Dazai has squirreled away somewhere, instant noodles are not uncommon in their home. A lack of free time keeps fast meals dinner more often than not.

Dazai turns the T.V on, volume on low, the soft murmuring of the speakers making for a peaceful background between slurping sounds. Dazai finishes first, but it's Chuuya who gets up and sets the empty glass bowls on the black and white marble counter.

"So, Dazai."

"Yes, tiny hatrack?"

"I'm letting that go, only because I'm in a good mood."

"Oh? And what has made Chuuya so happy?"

"Got interesting orders from the boss." He sees the way Dazai goes still. 

They never talk about work. Keeping their work lives and private lives separate is required if they want to keep one another in their lives. Just because the Port Mafia and the Armed Detective Agency get along now doesn't mean that they always will.

Wine red eyes stare at him, and a part of him squeezes at the light that flickers and disappears as Dazai's emotions shut down.

"Oh, and what would those be?" Unlike before, the playfulness in his voice is fake. A coolness replacing the warmth that saturated it, dripping love and comfort turned to ice.

"The boss is setting up a new program. To be more specific, a K9 unit."

"And what does that have to do with Chuuya?"

"I'm supposed to go pick up a puppy next week. Boss’s orders."

The squeeze in his chest shatters like glass when Dazai's eyes go from controlled calm to frantic.

"What."

"A dog Dazai, we're getting a dog."

"No."

"It's not optional 'Zai, Boss orders remember?" Chuuya tries to appeal to Dazai's soft side, see if he can smooth over some of his jagged edges, but to his dismay it only seems to splinter him more.

"I said no! I will not have a dog in my home Chuuya! I refuse! 

"Dazai," He reaches out to touch him but Dazai recoils like Chuuya touch is physically painful.

 All the yelling is making him angry too. He can't disobey the Boss, but this is also clearly a larger issue with Dazai than simply not liking dogs. Helpless to fix it, Chuuya does what he does best with Dazai: get angry.

"Do not touch me! I said no, Chuuya! You know I don't like dogs!"

"Yeah, you don't like ‘em, but what's with this? You've never acted like this about dogs before!"

"You have never tried to put a dog in my space!"

"It's my house too, Dazai!"

"I never brought home needles!”

"You asshole, you never had to and you know I'm afraid of them!" There’s a pause, and Dazai stares at him.

“Fuck you, Chuuya Nakahara." 

There are three things that throw Chuuya off about that sentence. One, Dazai never cusses. Two, Dazai wasn't yelling anymore, only issuing a calm statement of fact. Three, Dazai doesn't ever call Chuuya by his last name.

Stunned, Chuuya doesn't answer right away, and Dazai takes that opportunity to slink away, an injured animal to lick its wounds. By the time Chuuya reacts, Dazai has already made it to their bedroom and closed the door.

Chuuya takes the opportunity to sit for a second, let both Dazai and himself cool off. He really doesn't know how it got so out of hand so fast. He knows Dazai never liked dogs, but it never went beyond teasing Chuuya about his likes and a general avoidance of them out in public.

Then again, Dazai doesn't avoid much, the only other thing he really avoids is. Fuck. The doctor's office. 

Something Chuuya knows Dazai is actually afraid of. It looks like avoidance because he just doesn't go, but Chuuya has seen what happens if you actually get him in there.

Now he feels like an asshole.

Chuuya takes exactly one deep breath, focusing on the way the cool air fills his lungs and the way they stretch until they burn slightly, before making his way to the bedroom. He only lets himself have the one. He knows if he lets himself have anymore he'll continue to put this off.

He doesn't bother knocking, instead choosing to open the door directly. He closes it quietly behind him and walks slowly to the suspiciously human shaped lump bundled on the bed.

He sits gently on the edge, and the mattress dips under him. The mess of brown curls doesn't move to look at him.

Gentle has never been Soukoku's thing, but he reaches out as softly as he can to place one hand on Dazai's back. He ignores the way the skin under him twitches, not quite a flinch but clearly uncomfortable.

"Hey, 'Zai. I'm sorry."

"If Chuuya's sorry he would refuse."

"I can't, and I'm sorry for that." This has to be the most apologies Chuuya has ever given to Dazai.

"I can't go against the Boss. But," he scrambles to continue as he feels Dazai lean away from him, "we can set up some rules. We'll get a kennel for night time, they wouldn't be allowed in our bedroom, what about that?" 

The silence is killing him, and he's just about to break it when his prayers are answered.

"I don't want it on the couch."

"Done."

"And I'm not cleaning up after it."

"Of course."

"And it can't be in the kitchen while I cook."

"That's what the kennel's for."

"And I'm going to be really mad if it pees on our hardwood floors. We just got them."

"I'll take care of it."

If Chuuya chokes up a bit when Dazai turns to burrow into his side, and he can feel the small tremors racking his frame, that's for Chuuya to know, and no one else, ever.

***

The day Chuuya goes to pick up the puppy turns out to not be the best day of his life. The memory will forever be stained by the look Dazai gave him as he left that morning. A photo stained by tears- metaphorical of course, Dazai would kill him before he ever let Chuuya see him cry. Leave it to Dazai to ruin what's supposed to be the greatest memory he's ever going to make.

The breeder lives just outside of Yokohama. The house is big, with a nice front yard in the middle of one of the nicer neighborhoods. The lawn is so green, when Chuuya first pulled up, he thought it was fake. There are bushes against the house, and Chuuya eyes one of the yellow lilies as he rings the doorbell.

The man that answers is unassuming. He's wearing a black sweater and blue jeans.

"Hi, nice to meet you, Tanaka Daiki."

"Nakahara Chuuya." The man's grip is strong as they shake hands.

"I was told you'd be dropping by today. You're actually the first, so you get first pick."

He leads him through the living room to the back door, a large glass sliding one. He can hear them the second he steps outside. Soft yips and barks crowd his senses, interspersed with the occasional squeeze of a toy.

"I've got three different breeds. I've got an Akita litter, a German Shepherd litter, and a Sanshu litter." 

Chuuya has never been so thankful for the amount of research he's done about dogs in his free time.

An Akita would be nice, but they get big, up to 120 pounds, and they're known to be particularly territorial. If the dog so much at snaps at Dazai, he knows it won't end well.

The Sanshu is the one he'd like the most, due to how friendly they can be, and the fact it grows to be the smallest of the three. But he knows picking it would only lead to Mori questioning him about why he picked the smallest and least aggressive dog to be an attack dog.

Which only leaves him with the Shepherds. They get pretty big too, but not as big as the Akita, landing more in the mid 70s range, 80s at the most. On top of that, hopefully the dog can bond somewhat to Dazai, if that can help him feel more comfortable, since German Shepherds are known for being family dogs in the States.

"Could I see those Shepherds you got?"

"Sure, those are right over here."

He leads him closer to one of the gates set up near the left side fence. Sure enough, inside he can see puppies inside, wrestling with one another, ears just barely standing, and flopping all over the place. 

Most of the pups are saddle print, a few solid black or bi-color. The one that catches his eye, however, is more tan than black. Still saddle patterned, but clearly lighter than the rest of their siblings. The fur length on their ears and tail mark them as a long haired Shepherd.

The gate makes a horrible shrieking sound as it swings open, the sound of metal on metal, and he can hear the man behind him say something about being overdue for oil.

He ignores him and instead beelines for the pup, who trots closer to him when they notice him, big puppy grin over their muzzle. He scoops them - her - up. And she makes a grumpy grumble as he holds her out for inspection.

She looks perfectly healthy, no cuts, and she had no limp or weird gait when she was walking. Her teeth are healthy when he checks, but maybe he should have left them alone considering he gets a bite to his hand for his trouble, needle teeth sinking past his leather gloves.

But her grip is good and she's playful, which is always a good sign. He doesn't even have to look at the other pups, he tucks her under one arm and heads out, making sure the gate shuts behind him. 

"This one'll do."

"Not even going to look at the others?"

"No."

"Suit yourself. Your boss already paid for 'em so you're good to head out. Call me if you have any questions or concerns about the dog."

"Thanks, will do."

He puts the pup in the kennel he picked up on the way here, big enough to fit her for the rest of her life. Like hell he was going to bring home a dog without the crate he promised Dazai. He might replace the curry paste with tomato paste again. God, that was the worst curry he ever made and he didn't even know it until it was served. His bad for not taste testing he guesses, and trusting Dazai not to be an absolute bastard all the time.

She's near silent on the drive back, the only sound coming from the kennel, a sharp rattling sound when she moves.

He swings by a local pet store too, bringing her inside with him rather than leave her in the car and risk the AC turning off. He had most of the essentials shipped to his place a week ago, things Dazai refuses to look at as they were placed around their home. 

He grabs a little red collar and leash, just to tide them over until he can order something nicer and more permanent. 

There's a laser engraving machine for tags at the front counter, and he ends up grabbing a little bone shaped tag. A little cheesy, but it works for now. He just inscribes his work personal number on it.

As he pulls into the driveway, he looks at the pup then back at the house. Dazai is probably still in there, he better still be there. He doesn't know what Dazai will look like when he sees her, but he knows it won't be good.

He puts it off for five extra minutes, messing with the rough edges of the volume dial, checking the tire pressure, making sure the dog collar fits properly, clipping the leash, checking the leash clipped properly, before he runs out of excuses and actually has to go inside.

He stands outside the door too, one hand on the door handle the other hand full of squirming puppy. The kennel floats behind him, glowing a bright red. He slowly pushes the door handle down and swings it open.

He doesn't see Dazai anywhere, so he steps inside, shutting the door and setting the kennel down. He can find where to put it later.

Chuuya checks the kitchen first, where he fails to find his partner. He's not in the living room or office either. The most likely spot then, is the bedroom.

As he walks down the hallway, he makes sure his steps are loud, rather than softened by "For the Tainted Sorrow" as they usually are. Dazai no doubt heard him come in, but being extra careful with a volatile Dazai never hurts.

As he opens the door, Dazai is once again hidden in their bed. As much as he wants to go to him, he's still holding the dog and he promised he wouldn't bring her into the room. 

This whole house used to be Dazai's safe space, now he only has their room, like hell he's going to take that away too.

Instead, he keeps his feet firmly outside the door frame, adjusts his grip on the puppy, and calls out.

"Oi, Fish, I'm home." Dazai doesn't face him as he answers, still facing the window.

"Welcome home."

"You gonna come meet the pup?"

"I'm good here. The bed is very comfortable, you know!"

"I never took you for a coward." 

It's goading, Chuuya doesn't actually think that, but challenging him is the best way to get Dazai to do something he doesn't want to do, and if Chuuya let's him, Dazai will never leave the room again.

Sure enough, he can see Dazai stiffen. Let it be known for as much as the shitty bastard can manipulate him, he can do it right back.

"That is not fair."

"Come on,  'Zai, you'll have to come to her, I'm not bringing her to you."

"I don't want to." There's a whining tone to the voice. No longer serious, one more small push and he should crack.

"I'm going to go put her in her crate in the kitchen and make crab. It'd be a shame if you missed dinner tonight just because you won't join us."

With that he turns and leaves the room. He uses his ability to grab the kennel and drag it to the kitchen. He fluffs up the blanket, before dropping the pup inside and latching the door, pulling on it slightly to double check.

Dog put away, he washes his hands and starts filling up one of their larger pots, the heavy silver colored one that Chuuya picked out specifically for cooking crab when Dazai and he moved in.

He's still standing at the sink, back to the door and consequently, the puppy, when he hears socked feet step into the kitchen.

Chuuya very carefully faces the water, watching out of the corner of his eye as Dazai stands in front of the kennel and looks down at the dog.

The kennel comes up to Dazai's mid thigh, but through the bars the puppy only comes to slightly above his feet.

She toddles towards Dazai, stumbling over a fold in her blanket and falling. Dazai kneels down to get a better look, just out of arm's reach of the kennel.

"I don't like you." It's clearly not aimed at Chuuya, instead muttering at the little puppy who's standing at the door now. Tiny growls answer him, and Dazai flinches minutely.

His nose crinkled before he stands up and walks over to Chuuya.

"Your pot is overflowing."

"Shit."

"Chibi's a stalker."

"It's my house too, asshole. I'm allowed to watch what goes on in it."

"Mm."

"So, what do you think of her?"

"It's smaller than I thought it would be."

"She's gonna get bigger."

"Oh, how would I ever guess that puppies get bigger? This is new information to me!" Sarcasm dripping from every word.

 The stove clicks a couple of times before there's a snap and the fire turns on. While he waits for it to boil, he adds rice to the rice cooker and turns it on.

"Anyway, I was thinking-"

"Never a good thing."

"Shut it. I was thinking you should name her."

"Don't want to."

"Suit yourself, but you didn't want her and you're the one who has to hear the name everyday for the next couple of years. I thought it's only fair." And if Chuuya wants Dazai to have some, any, positive experience that's for him to know. He drops the crabs into the boiling water.

"Fine. Cat."

"What?"

"Cat, English, like the animal. A slug’s brain sure is slow! Cat, because they're the better animal and that way it will always know it's better."

"Like fuck, I'm vetoing, I'll do it myself! Get the fuck out my kitchen."

"Fine!"

Dazai sits at the table as Chuuya pulls out the crabs and cracks them all simultaneously, throwing away the shells and placing them on top of the rice.

He puts the two bowls onto the table, pushing a set of wooden chopsticks towards Dazai before digging into his own meal.

They eat in silence, and Dazai is still picking at his own meal when Chuuya gets up. He puts his bowl in the sink, and grabs the silver dog bowl he ordered last week. 

The kibbles clatter into the bowl harshly, and Chuuya frowns at it. He'll have to do more research into feeding dogs raw diets.

He can see Dazai watching him as he opens the door and slides the bowl in. The pup falls onto the bowl like she's starving, feral. Little snarls escaping as she chokes it down as fast as she can.

He keeps a close eye on her incase she starts choking, but he doesn’t miss the way Dazai puts his still full bowl on the counter and disappears into the bedroom.

He frowns at the sound of the bedroom door closing, and sighs. When the puppy finishes stuffing her face, he takes her out to the backyard. 

Chuuya loves their backyard, mostly soft green grass, with a winding pathway of flat rocks they had installed when they moved in. A Japanese maple sits at the end of the pathway with a small bench under it. It was a housewarming gift from Ane-san, and it's grown since they first planted it.

Wisteria grows along the left side of the garden, up the wooden frame they set for it, and it drips purple in the mid spring. Another bench lay beneath it, alongside a koi pond, large orange and white fish flicking beneath the surface. The sound of the rock waterfall spilling into it is gentle and familiar.

He sets the puppy down and goes to feed the fish. Normally Dazai feeds them, home more regular hours then Chuuya and an easy pattern to get Dazai out of the house and into the sun, even if only for a moment.

Dazai might not get out of bed on his own some days, but he will for those in his responsibility, and these fish rely on him.

Dazai's never missed their feeding time, at least not without letting Chuuya know, but tonight he skipped it. It makes Chuuya's chest hurt.

The top of the pond ripples as the fish come to the surface to grab at the pellets he dropped in and he smiles at them before looking at the dog.

He'll need to pick a name for her, considering Dazai won't and he'll have to do it soon, he can't train her without a name.

He lets her go potty and watches her race around their yard for a bit before standing up. 

He makes a couple clicking sounds hoping to entice her near him without a name to call her, but when that fails he simply floats her into his arms.

He drops her off in her kennel for the night before setting an alarm on his phone for the middle of the night. There's no way she's going to be able to hold it all night, so he'll have to get up at midnight-1am to let her out again.

Responsibilities handled, he heads for the bedroom. Dazai's already sleeping when he comes in. He's curled away from Chuuya's side of the bed, and Chuuya crawls in easily, taking care not to disturb the Mackerel.

It takes him longer than usual to fall asleep.

He wakes up to Dazai smacking his face with a pillow. He's just about to snap at him when chirping gets his attention. He groans and sits up, sliding a finger across the phone screen to turn off the alarm.

The wooden floor is cold, and he winces as he slides out of the warm bed. Dazai is already turning over to go back to bed when he leaves.

The pup is whining when he steps into the kitchen, and sprints to the back door, nails scraping on the wood, when he unlatches it. Huh. Smart dog. 

He unlocks the door, and she rushes out as he opens it. He stands in the doorway rubbing his eyes as he waits for her to finish. The early spring night air is crisp, and makes his shiver, his loose night clothes doing nothing to help keep him warm.

When the puppy starts sniffing at the Koi, clearly done, he floats her back to him. She licks at his face affectionately as he places her in her kennel and latches it, before heading back to bed.

This time, Dazai curls into him when he gets in, and he's so exhausted he falls right back to sleep with ease.

***

The puppy fits in right at home in his office. Boss gave him permission to keep the dog with him as he works, regulated to desk work while he has the puppy. He's to keep the puppy on him at all times, unless the Boss sends him out on a field mission.

He ended up having to buy another kennel on his way in for the office, but it's better than dragging the one to and from home and work everyday.

He found a cute glass treat holder there too, so now that's sitting on his desk, full of brown bone looking dog biscuits.

The dog kennel is open right now, and the furball's streaking from one end of his office to the other. 

He's still thinking of names. A small list on a sticky note next to the stack of paperwork to get done. So far he's leaning towards Aiko, but something about it doesn't fit right, despite how full of love she is.

A knock on his door breaks his focus

"Come in." Tachihara walks through his door.

"Hey man, the Big Boss told me to come tell you, you have a field mission tomorrow." He glances down at the puppy who's stopped running around to stare at this new person. Tachihara kneels down and holds out a hand, scratching between her ears until they flop around.

"Man, I thought I was on desk work until she was older."

"I don't know, sorry dude, I'm just the messenger."

"Yeah no problem. You wouldn't happen to be available tomorrow would you?"

"Nah, Black Lizards have a mission."

"Oh, cool, alright."

"Why?"

"No reason, just need to find someone to watch her." He jerks his head to the puppy Tachihara's still petting.

"Oh man, maybe ask Kouyou? I know all the Black Lizards are busy."

"I'll do that, thanks."

Tachihara stands up, brushing off his hands before he leaves.

Chuuya spends the rest of the day trying to figure out how to deal with the puppy tomorrow. Turns out Ane-san is out and won't be back until next week. Higuchi's also occupied, a rush of paperwork swamping her until at least the weekend.

He tries several of the lower levels that work for him, to no luck. He even asks if Akutagawa has any available men.

He's still thinking about what to do as he's heading home. Dazai's in the living room watching T.V, and doesn't look at him when he comes inside.

"Hey. What're we watching tonight?" Chuuya comes closer to see what's playing on the T.V, only to be stopped by Dazai's voice.

"A bup bup bup. No dogs on the couch. You promised!" There's an edge to the playful tone that makes him freeze. 

"Right. My bad."

"Mm, the Slug is forgiven! I know he has a tiny brain after all!"

"Fuck you."

He doesn't want to, but at this point he has no choice.

"Hey, Dazai," the hesitation in his voice must catch Dazai's attention, because he turns around to face Chuuya, eyes locking onto his. There's a wariness to his face, one that's never been directed towards Chuuya before, and it almost makes him shut his mouth before he even asks. But again, he's out of options, so he swallows hard and looks away as he asks,

"The Boss is sending me out on a mission."

"Okay, that's not new, why are you telling me?"

"The rest of the Port Mafia is busy, I don't have anyone else to ask-"

"No." The cut off is harsh, somehow both snarled and calm.

"I know, but there's really no one else-"

"Don't care, find someone else-"

"I know you have tomorrow off, you could keep her in the backyard-"

"Absolutely not-"

They're almost yelling over one another at this point, and Chuuya stops to take a breath. Dazai goes quiet too. After a minute he looks back at Dazai, wincing at the flat look he gets, eyes dead and teeth bared in a sorry excuse for a smile, more threat then not.

"I told you, that thing is your responsibility, I want nothing to do with it."

"I'm sorry, Dazai."

“I said no, Chuuya!” He blames what happens next on stress, and lack of sleep.

“Dazai, they’re orders from Mori! I can’t change them so for God’s sake, for once in your fucking life would you work with me please!” He snaps. The second it’s out of his mouth he regrets it. The way Dazai stiffens, mouth thinning into a stiff pale line lets him know he fucked up.

“Dazai-”

“Fine. I'll watch the dog.”

“What?”

“Have you gone deaf, did the Slug’s little hat eat his ears? I said I’ll do it.”

“Are you sure? I mean,” he hesitates.

“Were you not just telling me you had no other options? I said I’d do it. Like you said, I can just keep it in the yard until you get home, we have a nice reading nook facing the window, easy.” It’s a complete 180 from what Dazai was saying earlier. Chuuya gives him another look. He stares at him until his eyes burn, looking for some sort of waver or uncertainty. When he finds nothing, he sighs. He leaves to go put the puppy in her kennel, before coming back.

“Thanks ‘Samu, sorry again.”

“It’s fine, it’s fine! Slugs should get to bed, or they will never grow to be big and strong.”

“I’m already strong, dumbass. Stronger than you at least.”

Nonetheless, he starts to go to the bedroom, stopping to press a kiss to the Mackerel’s head on the way out.

“Take a shower, Fish. You smell like a damn ocean.”

He crashes the second he hits the bed, soft cool sheets and warm blanket lulling him into dreamless slumber. He doesn't even notice when Dazai joins him.

***

The drive back to Yokohama is calming. The motorbike under his legs rumbling in a comfortably familiar way. The wind tussles his hair, tied back into a ponytail to avoid tangling, and the lean of gravity he's not controlling is exciting as he makes sharp turns.

He slows down as he rolls into the driveway, parking and throwing up the kickstand.

His keys jingle in the lock and he opens the door.

“I'm back!”

“Nooooo! The Slug’s returned to spread his slime all over my nice clean home!”

“Shut it!”

The voice is coming from their window nook, so he makes his way over there. Long legs are folded up to squeeze into the space, and the gangle of limbs reminds him vaguely of a baby deer. He'll have to find a way to slip that into their insults sometime, Bambi maybe?

“How're you?”

“Terrible now that you've returned.”

Dazai doesn't push him away as he leans into his space, but wiggles out after a second, placing aside his book.

“Welp! I'm headed off to bed, good night sweet dreams, all those well wishes!”

He doesn't wait for Chuuya to respond, slipping down the hallway and disappearing.

Chuuya watches the closed door for a minute, mourning the usual welcome home he gets. Not that he fucking needs it. 

After staring at the dark brown wood for probably too long, he turns his attention to the window. The little blonde puppy is a bright spot against their vivid green grass. He gets up and opens the back door, whistling to get her attention. The little head snaps to him, and clumsy paws make their way as fast as possible towards him.

The puppy's fur is soft between his fingers as he picks out leaves and twigs from long fur. He'll have to start making her regular grooming appointments as she gets older, and her already long fur gets longer.

He gets her fed, and lets her back outside once more, he gets himself ready for bed. He's tired, so skipping dinner isn't a big deal, he'll have a big breakfast tomorrow.

He fixes her kennel before he puts her in, readjusting the blanket and changing her water.

The lights are off in the bedroom when he comes in, steady breathing coming from the bed. He's as quiet as possible as he puts sleeping clothes on and brushes his teeth. Dazai doesn't stir as he moves the blankets to crawl in. 

And when he wakes up in the morning, Dazai's already gone.

***

Chuuya feels like a man walking to the gallows. 

He's sitting on the couch, a fuzzy black blanket laid over his legs. Dazai isn't home yet, working late, Kunikida no doubt getting Dazai to catch up on the work he's slacked off.

Dinner is simmering on the stove. It's one of Dazai's favorites, a seafood soup with extra crab and shrimp. It makes the house smell wonderful, but the smell only serves to make Chuuya feel sick. Because he knows that it's a bribe.

The sound of the door jolts him from his thoughts. He sits up and the blanket pool's on the floor as it spills from his lap.

“Dazai,”

“I'll do it, it's fine.”

“Huh.” All the anxiety he was feeling slips through his fingers like spilled water, replaced with confusion. “W-what?”

“Chibi needs me to watch the dog again. You're sitting up waiting for me, you made my favorite dinner, and you made the house reek of anxiety. Well, let it be known that I can in fact be bought.”

Chuuya relaxes and fights a smile creeping across his face, replacing it with a scowl.

“You think I don't know that? Why do you think I made the soup in the first place?”

***

Chuuya would never betray the Port Mafia. They're his family, and there's nothing he wouldn't do for them.

That said, he's genuinely contemplating murder. 

Mori told him he'd be on desk duty and yet this is the eighth time that he's had to leave Dazai with the puppy since he brought her home three weeks ago. He hasn't protested since that first night so he thinks Dazai realized the pup isn't that bad as long as he doesn't need to interact, but the principal is the same.

He's standing on the docks, regulating shipments. He doesn't understand. This is absolutely something any one of the grunts could do, not something that requires executive supervision. And he knows everyone else is swamped as well, Kouyou was just complaining to him about the increase in workload, in that elegant and polished way of hers.

He watches as another heavy metal container is set on the ship with a loud clang. He has a headache from all the noise going on here and frankly, he can’t wait to get home.

Every once in a while a document is brought to him to look at, but for the most part, he’s left entirely alone. The thought of simply leaving also crosses his mind, but the wrath of Mori isn't one easily brushed off and disobeying direct orders is a number one way to bring that about.

On the brighter side, he's finally decided on a name for the dog, meaning he can start training her for real. Yuki ended up topping his list, surpassing Aiko. 

He checks his phone for the thousandth time today, checking the time.

Ten minutes. Ten more minutes and then he can go home. God, he really wants to crawl into bed and disappear for the next 48 hours.

Time passes like molasses, thick and sticky, before he can finally leave. The sun set a while ago, leaving only the shadows of night. Street lights chase away part of them in little sections, small points of glowing gold sanctuaries.

He made sure to keep everything he needed on him, so it's a simple matter to jump onto his bike and head home. The best thing about having both a motorbike, gravity powers, and being a high ranking mafia member is that the speed limit is really just a suggestion.

The house is quiet when he gets there. The porch light normally left on is turned off, and from the front of the house, it looks like all the other lights are off too.

He turns the motor off on his bike, soft humming cutting off. The house is quiet when he opens the door, but that's not uncommon. It's always him that has to call out to Dazai first. Except this time he gets no response. He creeps through the house, feeling oddly out of place with the house feeling so cold.

When he gets to the window nook, Dazai is curled underneath a blanket, book closed in his lap. His eyes are half lidded, and are slow to meet him. They're foggy with exhaustion, and the second they sharpen with recognition, Dazai stands up and staggers off to bed. Chuuya is left standing in the middle of the room, without a single acknowledgement.

He goes outside to collect the dog and feed her. As he puts her away, he's so fucking grateful he has tomorrow off.

He'll have to make it up to Dazai tomorrow, breakfast would be nice. Maybe he'll even break house rules and let Dazai eat in bed, damn the crumbs he'll get everywhere.

***

Except when Chuuya wakes up in the morning and rolls over to wiggle into his partner's side, the sheets are cold. Cold like the person’s been gone a while.

He sits in bed for a minute, just listening. Maybe Dazai's in the bathroom, or making another awful attempt at cooking. But there's no sound of running water, or the sharp clatter of pans. There's no yelling as Dazai scrambles to put out a fire, or creeping as Dazai tip-toes around trying to hide whatever he's gotten into.

Instead, there's only soft barking coming from the kitchen, echoing down the hall.

Slowly, he abandons the bedroom. All the doors in the hallway are open, and he peaks inside each room, hoping to catch sight of pale bandages and dark hair.

No luck. Each room is as empty as the last. The kitchen is empty when he gets there too. There's no response as he unlatches the kennel. 

The scratching of claws on hardwood gains no response or reprimand.

He isn't in the yard either, the koi swimming gracefully in their pond and the quiet splash of the waterfall all that greet him. 

He pulls out his phone. No new messages, other than for work. He unlocks it and moves to the contact page. Maybe he went to work early? It's rare, but if a case got his attention?

The phone rings once, twice, a third time, before there's a click.

“Kunikida of the armed detective agency. How can I help you?”

“Kunikida. It's Chuuya. Is Dazai there today?”

“Chuuya? No, today's his day off. First time that vagabond actually applied for it.”  The angry mutter only serves to send a chill down his spine. “Why? Is everything alright?” Kunikida continues.

“Yeah, everything's fine. Just looking for the bastard.”

“All right. If that's all, I have paperwork to get back to.”

“Yeah, bye.”

Chuuya stares at his phone. Where else would he go? As shitty as he is, he normally lets Chuuya know if he has any last minute plans that would make him disappear. A letter on the table at least.

Worry starts to take root in his chest. No one can really get the drop on Dazai, but what if this is the one time. The one time someone actually did and Chuuya's just writing it off. He thought the same of the flags after all, and look what happened. 

Yuki comes charging back, and he leans down to pet her. Her stomach fur is soft, and he rubs it a little harder.

Technically, Dazai hasn't been gone long enough to validate his worries, so he'll start training Yuki, and hopefully Dazai will be home by tonight.

He goes back inside to throw on a Hoodie, and throws some kibble pieces into his front pocket. It makes his hand smell, and he wrinkles his nose. This Hoodie is going straight in the wash after.

Despite how it smells to him though, it gets the pups attention because she comes bounding over and puts her front paws on his pants, standing up. Her little tail waves behind her, as fast as she could possibly go. She's bigger than she was at 8 weeks, filling out fast.

“Yuki.” He says, before giving her a treat. He repeats this a couple times, trying to associate the word with a reward. Before walking away and calling again, “Yuki.”

Unlike all the books he read, she doesn't turn to look at him. He probably just hasn't practiced enough. Everything is repetition for dogs. But. He breaks into cold sweat.

No. There's no way. Dazai hates the dog. He wouldn't spend any extra time with her, even from the window. Fuck. Dazai also wouldn't pass up any opportunity to fuck with him, regardless of discomfort.

His mouth is dry as he calls, “Cat.”

Pointed ears perk up as the pup runs over and looks at him.

Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck.

Now he's stuck with this. He could try and rename her, but Dazai would no doubt just continue whatever he's been doing to get this response in the first place.

Still cursing out that damn fish, he sighs and reaches out to pat the pup’s head, lamenting the innocent dog's future.

Instead he moves on to try and teach ‘sit’. It continues until the sun starts to set, interspersed with playtime, when the first star of the evening is visible in the dark sky.

By then he's heading back inside, the warm home making Chuuya realize just how cold it had gotten outside. He keeps an ear out for the door as he makes both him and Cat dinner. The door never opens though, and he's left feeling hollow.

***

When he wakes up in the morning and Dazai's still gone, Chuuya decides fuck this. He gets up, takes care of the pup, kennels her, throws the kennel in the car, and drives straight to the Port Mafia's headquarters.

Everyone in the building stares at him as he stomps down the hallway, kennel in hand. No one dares stop and ask what he's doing though.

The door to Ane-san's office is closed, but the light from under the door tells him she is, in fact, inside. Without pausing, he opens the door and puts the kennel on her desk, right on tip of the paperwork she was filling out.

He ignores her startled noise, still as quiet and graceful as ever, and the subsequent call of his name.

He'll buy her an apology tea set later. Right now, he has a partner to find.

He ignores anyone trying to get his attention all the way to the exit, all lower management. If his Ane-san couldn't stop him, what makes them think he'll stop for them?

He slams the driver's side door shut and pulls out.

He has multiple guesses on where Dazai could have fucked off to, but one doesn't necessarily stick out to him more than the others.

The first place he drives by is the park. It's easy to see from the car, and relatively close to the Port Mafia headquarters. Unfortunately, he can see the park's empty before he even gets close.

Then he tries the arcade. It's not uncommon for either of them to go there for some space when they're upset. He's not there either.

He checks the docks, their favorite café the next street over, and the Chinese place downtown to no luck.

He's driving down a random street when his car screeches to a stop, his foot pressing on the breaks suddenly and harshly.

The old apartment. It's still for sale so there shouldn't be anyone there and a locked door is to Dazai as a screen door is to everyone else.

He flips a U-turn, and heads in the direction of their old place.

He parks in the first spot he sees, and sprints up the steps of the building. He doesn't have the elevator key anymore, but ‘For The Tainted Sorrow’ makes it one easy jump up to floor four.

The metal handrail creeks under his body weight when he lands on it. A testament to how old the building is.

He mouths the numbers on the doors as he passes.

401, 402, 403…

The pale white door to 404 stairs him down, chipped paint and all. He doesn't hesitate to reach for the handle, finding it unlocked.

The door opens with a simple push, and Chuuya heads in. It looks the same as it did when he left it at eighteen. The same walls, the same dent in the floor where Chuuya tripped and slammed onto it, the same off colored patch in the wall from the stray gunshot from Dazai they had to fill in.

All the missing furniture makes him think of the day he moved out, giving one last look into an apartment he couldn't stand to live alone in. Something that claws at his chest that he pushes away.

He moves through the building, listening to the traffic outside. The rush of cars passing drowns out everything else. It's static in his ears, sharpening all his other senses.

The metal of the bedroom door handle is cold, the light click of the latch just barely able to be felt. He knows before he sees that this is where Dazai is.

And low and behold, he's there. He's sitting on the ground, cross-legged, right where their bed would have been. He doesn't look at Chuuya, but Chuuya knows Dazai knows he's there.

He sits next to him and says nothing, just existing with him.

It's hard, not saying anything. Everything in Chuuya wants to talk, to get it over with. But, as always, that's not the way they work.

Instead, he continues to wait. One of them will have to crack eventually, and it's not gonna be him.

“Did you know the Mafia used to have dogs?”

The question is emotionless, there is no intonation to tell Chuuya how to feel about this new fact he's learned, but something about it makes him feel as though Dazai poured ice water down his back anyway.

“They did. They used to be kept in this massive metal gate in the pack of the Port Mafia building. They are probably deconstructed by now, but I would bet that they're still on the old budget sheet.”

Chuuya remains silent, too worried that if he even acknowledges what Dazai's saying that he'll shut up and Chuuya won't ever get to hear the end of the story.

“They were all big dogs, approximately all above 30 kilograms. Mori liked them. I didn't.” A pause. “Dog teeth really hurt. Did you know that with how heavy large dogs are, the skin tears relatively easily despite how deep the fangs can get in your skin?”

When Dazai turns to look at him, Chuuya knows this one requires an answer. His mouth is dry as he swallows.

“No. I didn't.”

“Now you do! It's my job to teach my dog about himself, you know, no need to thank me!” There's no joy behind Dazai’s smile.

They sit in silence again, Dazai clearly done, but Chuuya unsure of what to say. Finally, Dazai stands up.

“Welp, it's too cold in here, time to get a move on, Slug.” Chuuya panics. He grabs Dazai's wrist and says the first thing that comes to mind.

“Did you know that the German Shepherd breed tends to pick one person?”

“What?” 

“They like one person best. I tried to work with the dog yesterday. She wouldn't work with me.”

The smug little smile that forms at the edges of Dazai's lips is a comfort he keeps close to his chest.

“I think my dog betrayed me.”

“It wouldn’t be a surprise, I have practice!” The hand that ruffles Chuuya's hair, tangling the longer strands, is promptly swatted away.

“Did you know that German Shepherds are the second most likely dog to bite?” The alarm that flashes in Dazai's eyes makes him rush to finish. “They tend to be too protective of their person, and hurt anyone who comes too close to those they protect.”

The alarm quickly fades to confusion. Chuuya stares at him, willing Dazai to understand where he's going with this. When nothing happens, he takes the plunge.

“I want you to help me train Cat.” The barriers slam back down.

“No.”

“Hear me out ‘Zai. You don't have to-”

“I don't want to.”

“ But, having a big protective dog on your side sounds nice doesn't it?”

“That's why I have Chibi!”

“Come out. Watch us in the yard, I promise I won't leave you alone with her again. Think about it.” When there's no immediate refusal, he pulls out the big guns. 

“Besides, living things are always unpredictable, and if the dog ends up more yours than mine, we'll, Mori can't really say anything can he?”

The thought of fucking with the Boss seems to be Dazai's tipping point.

“Fine.”

Victory slams into Chuuya so hard he can barely breathe. Still holding onto Dazai's wrist, he pulls him down so they are settled together on the floor again.

“Where is it anyway?” Chuuya grimaces, shit, he's going to have to deal with that soon.

“I might have dumped her on Ane-san without asking.”

The loud barked laughter, so rough and sudden Dazai ends up hunched over and holding his stomach, is the first real sound of happiness Chuuya's heard from Dazai in over a month. And it's never sounded better.

***

He does end up receiving an earful from Kouyou when he finally slinks back to pick up the dog. The scolding is harsh, and he highly doubts that the people outside can't hear it. But the pup is well cared for, and Chuuya got everything sorted with his partner, so he doesn't really regret anything.

What he does regret is having to get up at seven am, aka ass o'clock, in the morning to train said pup. Shaking Dazai until he wakes up also isn't fun. Dazai wasn't a morning person when they were teens, and clearly hasn't grown out of it.

With lots of whining, mumbling, and a few choice words not fit for puppy ears, they both end up outside, morning dew beading on their shoes and goosebumps forming from the cold morning air.

Dazai is standing on the wood of their porch, so Chuuya ends up on the far outer wall, under their tree. The new buds coming in speak of temperatures soon to rise.

Dazai doesn't move from his position, but he doesn’t head inside during the hour Chuuya works with Cat, so he's counting it a win.

When they head back inside so Chuuya can feed Cat and get started on their own breakfast, he's startled by Dazai leaning into his space. Cat is in his left hand still, and although Chuuya’s between them, this is the closest Dazai's ever gotten to the dog.

“It's too cooolllldddd.”

“Oh, hush you big baby.” Despite his words, he wraps his right hand around Dazai's hips. When he goes to put Cat down, Dazai wiggles out of his gentle hold and heads back to bed. 

“I'm going back to sleep. Chuuya, bring me breakfast in bed?”

“Like fuck I will, you'll get crumbs all over our nice sheets.”

He ignores the whining tone he gets in response.

***

It's only two days later that another field mission makes it onto his desk. Like every time before, he calls everyone and finds them all busy. Unlike previous times, however, he instead picks up the papers and heads straight to Mori's office.

The guards eye him as he approaches but move obediently aside at a flick of his wrist. Perks of being an executive.

Mori looks up at the opening of his door, and Chuuya makes sure to close the door behind him as he approaches the desk.

“Morning, Boss.”

“Chuuya! To what do I owe the pleasure?”

“I can't take this one.” As to emphasize his point, he puts the papers on Mori's desk. Upon seeing them, Mori gives him a single raised eyebrow.

“Oh? And why not?”

“I need to watch the dog you assigned me, sir.”

“Surely you can find someone?”

“Unfortunately not.”

“Oh? Why not leave it at home? That's what you did the last few times, no?”

“That's not an option anymore.” The look in Mori's eyes tells Chuuya that's not the response he was looking for. Too bad, so sad.

“Really now.”

“Yes. Unless you can?” It's not really an option, but it does help drive home Chuuya's point. He's not leaving Cat home alone with Dazai again.

Something dark flickers over Mori's face before it's gone, leaving only a smile.

“Very well, I will keep that in mind.”

“Thanks, Boss.” He leaves the papers on the desk on his way out, and relishes in the wide-eyed looks of the guards on his way out. That's how it's done mother fuckers.

***

It's two more weeks before Dazai actually joins him in the yard. Cat is so much bigger now, but Dazai also watched her learn with Chuuya, and how obediently she behaves. 

Chuuya took forever to convince him, so now he's knelt in the grass, getting the knees of his jeans wet and holding onto her collar. A pink thing with a new gold tag reading her name and Chuuya's phone number.

Dazai is standing in front of him, and he has Cat facing him so her back is to Dazai.

“Go on, I've got her.”

“Shut it, Slug. No one wants to hear it.” Contradictory, a hand reaches out to touch the back of her spine. It freezes when it makes contact with soft fur, and Chuuya has no doubt he's fighting back a flinch.

Slowly the hand moves up, then back down again. A stiff petting motion. Chuuya doubts Cat likes it, but it also doesn't seem to bother her. She just says there with a big puppy grin, pink tongue lolling out her mouth as she pants.

Dazai strokes her three times before taking his hand back and releasing a big breath as he steps away.

“So? Not too bad, huh Mackerel?”

“I said shut up!”

***

Chuuya's upstairs when it happens. He's let Cat out to play. She's growing fast, already a full foot from floor to shoulder and a hearty 30 pounds. Her coat has grown even more fluffy and Chuuya's sure he'll need to buy a new brush soon.

Dazai is watching T.V or doing the dishes towards the front of the house. He's supposed to be dishes but with him, T.V is more likely. The lazy shit.

He's folding laundry on the floor of their bedroom, a sock in one hand and the other digging through the pile looking for its pair. His gloves are on the side table, making it easier to fold the clothes.

He has the day off because his car broke down last night, and he can't take the pup to work with him on his bike. So he had it towed late in the evening and has spent this morning trying to get all responsibilities handled.

He's still cursing to himself, elbow deep in warm laundry, when the sound of loud barking gets his attention. It's Cat. But, unlike anything he's ever heard from her, it's aggressive. He puts down the sock, eyebrows furrowing in confusion. He's slowly standing up when he hears the sound of glass shattering.

That has him standing and charging for the kitchen. There's another loud crash, and Tainted's glow envelopes him as he jumps onto the wall before using it like a springboard, launching him down the rest of the hallway. 

As he barrels into the dining room, blood is the first thing he sees. It's smeared all across the hardwood floors, hard so see against the dark color. It's more visible against the white framing on the walls, splattered over everything.

The second thing he clocks is Dazai, standing in the kitchen and staring at the front door, dark eyes blown wide and cheeks pale, but uninjured. 

The third and fourth things he finds together. A man is standing in their front hall, screaming and hand buried into the neck of Cat, who's snarling bloody maw is clenched over his arm. All the fur on her body is standing up.

The view stuns Chuuya, freezing him I'm place until he realizes that the hand buried in her fur is holding a knife, metal glinting silver and red, and that the blood isn't only the stranger's but Cat's too.

He throws himself at the man, and the second his fingers touch him, Chuuya falls at gravity, slamming it down as hard as he can.

The man doesn't even have time to scream before his insides are crushed under gravity. As the body gets limp, Cat hangs on for another second before letting go. Chuuya can see a nasty gash in his arm, flesh torn away.

Chuuya reaches out to check her, but Cat angles herself away from him and beelines for Dazai. Cat with her bloody face and neck and hackles still raised. Even more quickly, he scrambles to stop her.

He must accidently grab her too rough and stretch her injuries because she yelps, harsh and grating through the house. The T.V is on, but Chuuya can't make out what it's saying.

He's shushing her, running a hand smoothing down her fur and crooning to her about what a good girl she is, when footsteps get his attention.

He looks up just in time to see Dazai kneeling down to join him. A shaking hand reaches for her face, smearing the pale hand with blood. Chuuya's own hands feel sticky with it.

Still shaking, Dazai pats her muzzle, flinching but not pulling away when she licks at his fingers, little whines escaping her. Her tail swishes softly, landing on his leg and blood matting the silky fur.

She seems happy with Dazai, and Dazai is reaching for her, albeit hesitantly, so he lets go of her to make some phone calls, one to clean up this mess, one to investigate whoever this was, and one to drive them to the emergency vet.

He makes them as quick as possible, and by the time he's done, Dazai is rubbing Cat's ears as she lays limp on his lap. Chuuya can't help but stare. Dazai's really interacting with her. Of course it takes a near tragedy for it to happen, but it's happening. Under all the messy negative emotions he's drowning in, a spark, just a flicker of a flame, of hope warms his chest.

The cars pull up quickly, discrete cars that look right at home in the neighborhood. He leaves the grunts to deal with the mess, glaring at them when they eye Dazai with surprise. He scoops up Cat and carries her outside, placing her on the seats in the back.

He's shocked when Dazai climbs inside the back with her. He debates telling Dazai that he's driving, and will be in the front, but when Dazai makes eye contact with him, he knows that Dazai knows. So instead, he's quiet, and slips inside the driver's seat. The ride is short, he's speeding, but Dazai doesn't say anything so he doesn't slow down. 

The tires skid as he serves into a parking space, throwing the gear into park. He picks the dog back up, who whimpers. Dazai goes ahead and when he walks through the door, Dazai's already talking to a nurse, and there's another one coming out to help. She takes Cat from him and carries her to the back. The lady at the front desk attempts to comfort them.

“We're going to do our best to help her, she's a strong one. And young too, I'm sure she'll pull through.”

Chuuya's throat is too tight to answer, but Dazai doesn't respond either, so he nods to show at least one of them is listening. 

They're let into a private room, before being left alone. The next few hours are miserable. Eventually the adrenalin fades, leaving him tired, and judging by the way Dazai leans into his side he's feeling the same.

“What happened?”

“I was washing the dishes, and didn't hear anything except the front window breaking. I grabbed the knife from the block in the kitchen, but before I could do anything, Cat broke the back door and attacked him.”

“Shit.” Chuuya runs a hand down his face. “I have to figure out who that was.”

“Relax, your men are on it, and if that fails then Double Black will find out.”

The room lapses into silence, tired and overwhelmed.

When the vet pops her head in the door, all the adrenaline comes flooding back. His head shoots up, and he's standing, leaving Dazai who was sleeping on his shoulder to fall face first into the chair, his face landing with a heavy thunk. Chuuya hears him complaining, but it fades to the background as the lady speaks.

“Good news, the wound wasn't anywhere serious. She just needed a few stitches and she's good to go. The other vet tech is bringing her now. Just make sure she wears her cone for at least a week, preferably two.”

“Oh, thank god. Holy shit.” He slumps back into the chair. 

Dazai, a hand on his forehead, asks, “Does she need to come back later?”

“You're free to take her home tonight. She shouldn't need any overnight care. You should come back in ten days to get her stitches removed, or sooner if the injury becomes infected.”

“Of course.”

It's at that moment that Cat is carried back in. Her eyes are glazed over, obviously high, but her tail wags hard when she sees them. Chuuya goes to take her, and he cradles her as gently as possible.

Dazai signs the paperwork in front, handing over Chuuya's black card. When he swiped that, Chuuya has no clue.

It's dark when they step outside, moon full and bright, and only a few stars visible, most drowned out by city lights.

The drive home is quiet. Most of the cars that pulled up earlier in the day are gone, leaving a single car there with two people inside. He directs them to give the report to Dazai, once again ignoring the looks they send him, acting like he lost his mind. If he did, he lost it long ago when the Mafia partnered him with D azai. At that point insanity might just be necessary for survival.

Chuuya is still trying to get them to give the report to Dazai, so he can get his damn injured dog in the God forsaken house, when Dazai comes up behind him and takes Cat from him lifting her with his noodle arms.

He disappears inside without a word, and Chuuya is left to hear the report.

Turns out it was an assassin. A shit one, coming mid-day and taken down by a 30 pound puppy. A badass one, but a puppy nonetheless. They tell Chuuya they already went ahead and installed a new alarm and lock system and it should be fine now. Chuuya's only half-listening. They're probably moving anyway. He doubts either of them could stay in a place where their safety's already invaded once.

He hears them out though, before shooing them away. Exhausted he heads inside. He goes to check on Cat. If Chuuya could be surprised again today he would, unfortunately he's got no emotions left to spare. Cat isn't in her kennel.

He makes his way to the bedroom instead, and swings the already half open door open all the way. Inside, Dazai's laying on the bed, and Cat's been placed at the foot of it.

“What the fuck.”

“Shut up. I'm cold, I'm tired, and I had no care to wrestle with the cage. I already sleep with one dog, it won't kill me to share with two. Only this once .” He emphasizes. “This is absolutely not becoming a regular thing. Think again, Hatrack!”

“I didn't say shit.”

The bed is warm, the extra body only adding more heat to the already massive number of blankets and pillows. The blonde patches of fur stick out like a sore thumb against the burgundy sheets and pillows, and even more so against the black duvet. Dazai crawls closer, nestling into Chuuya's side, exchanging his ice cold fingers for leaching up Chuuya's heat.

Chuuya crashes like a car speeding on the first day of rain, falling into dreamless oblivion comforted by the weight of his partner.

***

A week after Cat gets her stitches out she's barreling through the living room, only coming to heel after Dazai calls her. The second she hears, “Cat! Come!” She's right by Dazai's side, practically gluing herself to his side. It's so not fucking fair, Chuuya was the one who wanted a dog.

He watches the two interact, Dazai sending her to go pick up his bag by the door, only on the other side of the room, the lazy shit, before Chuuya can't take it anymore.

“How the fuck did you do it?”

“What does the Chibi mean?”

“You didn't interact with her at all, how did you get her to know her name? How the hell did we end up with a dog named Cat?”

“Oh! That's easy! I sat at the window nook and called her, and every time she came I threw food out the window!”

“You sly bastard.”

“I know!” Dazai shoots him the smuggest look. Well, he can fix that.

“Cat! Fetch!” He points at Dazai's bolo tie.

“Chuuya, wait, hold on- gack.” 

Dazai promptly chokes as Cat pulls the tie taunt, tail wagging all the way.