Chapter Text
“Are you sure, Chuuya?” Kouyou’s voice was soft, quiet. Her hand on his shoulder was comforting, but Chuuya had no need for her sympathy. Not about this. He could feel the gaping hole in his chest where his soulmark burned in him. A void that kept growing now that it had been spurned by its partner, its other half.
Souls could live without their partners, that much was true, but not if they were rejected.
Chuuya had been rejected.
He had never told Dazai about the brand on his left breast, but he had always assumed that Dazai had known. He had known about so many other things – things Chuuya had tried so hard to keep secret, so it was entirely reasonable that he knew about this as well.
Except he had left, without a word, without a single thought, and Chuuya had felt his chest burn in response. Something within him was breaking.
After several months of shortened breaths, weakness, and ennui, Kouyou had taken him aside and told him of an Ability user that could erase memories. It wouldn’t erase the soulmark. Nothing could do that, but it would erase the pain.
Initially, Chuuya had been against it. He didn't want to forget his other half. He didn't want to forget the moments in between - the late nights having conversations on rooftops, or playing video games, or trying to one up each other in insane challenges and heists.
He didn't want to forget that Dazai loved his coffee black, but knew that Chuuya preferred a dollop of french vanilla creme.
He didn't want to forget that Dazai never hung his coat up, but would always place his shoes neatly.
He didn't want to forget that Dazai loved to read, and if he was really concentrating, he'd scrape his fingernails against the fabric of the couch, the strange krrrrrch noise calming him to move to the next page.
Chuuya didn't want to forget the mornings of quiet arguments, and the stakeouts where Dazai had clung to him for his body heat, and the nights spent running through the town, trying forever to win against each other and the world.
It had only taken him a month to cave. Caught in between the life he was missing and the life he had hoped to have, he had made his decision. Soulmates weren't worth it. He couldn't be worth it.
He had been weak.
But it had been worth it.
Three days after his nineteenth birthday, Chuuya had no idea who Dazai Osamu was, and his soulmark thrummed beneath his skin as normal, without reaching for its mate.
It wasn’t a surprise to be called to Mori’s office. It wasn’t usual, but it wasn’t a surprise. Chuuya had been there several times over the past four years, ever since he had accepted the promotion to Executive – the youngest that he had ever heard of.
Mori was sitting behind his desk, looking as put together as he normally did, and Kouyou was beside him, frowning slightly.
“Boss?” Chuuya asked, bowing his head in greeting. He gave a small smile in the direction of the other redhead, but she did not return it.
“Chuuya,” Mori greeted, his voice sliding over Chuuya like warm butter, soft and slippery. “I have a task for you.”
Chuuya frowned. It wasn’t unusual for him to be called back into the field, but it didn’t happen often anymore. “Yes?” he asked slowly.
“There is a new organization in town,” the older man explained, sounding almost bored. “They are known as the Guild, and they have taken young Q captive.”
Chuuya felt dread curling at the base of his spine when he heard that. “Sir?” he asked, almost stammering over the word.
Mori nodded. Kouyou’s face was pinched. “Yes.”
“Just tell me where I need to go,” Chuuya said, straightening his shoulders. If Q was captive, then there was always the possibility of their Ability being used against their will, or worse, being used in their defense. Chuuya wasn’t a fan of the child, and part of him wondered if the world would be better if they just slit Q’s throat and be done with it, but Mori had taken a liking to the kid, so Chuuya would protect them. “And what I need to do.” The implication was clear - kill or protect, he was waiting for orders.
“Oh?” Mori asked, leaning forward in interest.
“Q is a danger to everyone,” Chuuya explained, feeling a tension in shoulders that he had barely felt in the past several months. This was clearly big if Mori was calling him in. “While I know that they are one of us, and also a child, it would also be strategically sound if Q was eliminated.”
“Chuuya-“ Kouyou cut in, aghast, hand to her heart.
He gave her an apologetic smile. “Sorry, Ane-san,” he said. “I know they're a kid, but they also…” His voice trailed off and he shrugged. It was hard to explain exactly what Q was. The murderer of at least two of Chuuya's squads, for one, and Chuuya did not forget the tally of the dead as others did.
Mori chuckled. “You will not be acting alone,” he explained. “The Armed Detective Agency has reached out with a…” He paused, almost contemplative. When he continued, there was a weight to his words that Chuuya couldn’t guess at. “Partnership for the evening.”
Kouyou looked about to have an apoplexy, but kept silent. Chuuya raised an eyebrow at her before turning back to Mori.
Chuuya frowned. “I can handle this… what did ya call them? Guild? On my own.”
Mori’s laugh was almost boisterous. “I have no doubt. I have had my secretary send the coordinates to your phone. You are required to be there at eight o’clock. I do hope that you will fulfill this mission to the best of your abilities.” Once again, Chuuya had the feeling that Mori was withholding something from him, but he shook it off.
Mori was the boss of the Port Mafia, and Chuuya may be an Executive, but that didn’t mean that he was privy to everything that was going on. Chuuya had his hands full with the Black Lizard – just the other day, his lieutenants had an unsuccessful raid upon the offices of the Armed Detective Agency.
He still needed to deal with that fallout. He wasn’t a huge fan of the punishments that some of the other Executives had urged him to do.
Thinking about everything, Chuuya could feel the ticks of a headache behind his left eye. He needed to focus on tonight’s mission. Everything else would be left for the morning.
Chuuya frowned for a moment. “You mentioned a partnership,” he said. “With the Armed Detective Agency. How will I know who I should be meeting up with?”
Kouyou inhaled sharply. Mori’s grin grew… a touch uncomfortable. If Chuuya were anyone else, he would think that the toothy expression was sinister.
“You shall be meeting one of their members,” Mori explained. “A man named Dazai Osamu. He should be there… quite possibly late.”
“That’s unprofessional of him, sir,” Chuuya replied. He wracked his mind, looking for any information on this Dazai Osamu. He wasn’t sure that he knew the name.
Something, long dormant, in the back of his mind whispered at him. Chuuya shrugged it off. He was used to his mind being a tad bit strange.
No sane person would work for the Port Mafia, after all.
“He is…” Mori paused, thinking. He tapped his gloved finger against his lips. “Unconventional.”
Chuuya could almost feel his annoyance rise. He hated unconventional – almost as much as he hated unprofessional. Still, the boss’s orders were the boss’s orders and Chuuya was not fool enough to go against something as easy as teaming up with the Armed Detective Agency.
“Fine,” Chuuya agreed, wondering why both Mori and Kouyou kept giving him sidelong glances. It was disconcerting and he wished they would stop.
“Chuuya,” Mori called out as he was at the door. “I know he will probably try your patience, but don’t kill him. We don’t need a war with the Armed Detective Agency. Not yet, anyway.”
Chuuya nodded, wondering how bad this guy had to be for Mori to personally request him not to be murdered.
Kouyou walked him out of the office not five minutes later in silence. She looked uncomfortable. He let their easy walk get to the end of the elevator before he sighed and looked at her.
“Spit it out, Ane-san,” he said. “You clearly have something to say.”
Kouyou pursed her lips, raising an elegant eyebrow which had Chuuya ducking his head. He could have been politer in his inquiries.
“Sorry,” he mumbled, chastened as a schoolboy. “But you and Boss are worrying me.”
She gave him an indulgent smile reaching out and cupping his cheek. “Don’t worry too much about us, Chuuya,” she said, warmly. “Just… focus on your mission. If…” Her voice tapered off.
Chuuya waited, and when the ding of the elevator came and they walked inside, she finally shook her head.
“If you have anything you’d like to discuss with me later,” she told him seriously, “I will be available all night. No matter how late.”
That was strange but Chuuya shrugged it off as the elevator doors opened on the seventeenth floor – where his office was, and he exited with a slight bow to the other. Kouyou always looked out for him, so perhaps it wasn't strange?
He was a bit put off by the others. Something had chafed within him at the mention of this Dazai Osamu but he had never met anyone like that in his life, the name was not familiar. He could only hope that they would not completely drive him up a wall.
Eight o’clock had come and gone and Chuuya was completely pissed. It was nearing nine and he was still standing, waiting for this… Dazai person to show up.
If he was going to.
Chuuya could never be sure. He had called Mori, and the boss had assured him that this was normal for Dazai Osamu.
Chuuya was going to have words to say when the other arrived.
“Ah! Slug!” a voice rang out, singsong and annoying across the field.
Chuuya turned towards it, eyebrow raised. The man approaching him was tall, dressed casually in a long beige coat and a shabby vest that had seen better days. Bandages peaked out from his collar and the sleeves of his coat. His brown hair was long, curly, and disheveled. There was a look on his face that Chuuya would describe as "conniving" if he had to give it an adjective. The other had his right arm in a cast, and Chuuya sniffed. Great, he'd have to cover for an injury as well.
“You’re late,” Chuuya snapped.
The other man’s face practically lit up at this prospect. “Has chibi been waiting for me this whole time?” the other asked, a grin breaking over his face. Chuuya noted that his eyes weren’t smiling though.
“I’m Nakahara Chuuya,” the redhead said instead, holding out a hand. “I can only assume you’re Dazai Osamu. Mori briefed me that you’ll be helping me to recover Q.”
The other looked taken aback, his face dropping. “Does…?” his voice trailed off. He stalked closer, leaning over Chuuya with a surprisingly serious look in his eyes, but not touching. Chuuya just raised an eyebrow. “Does Chuuya not know me?”
Chuuya rolled his eyes. “Should I?” he retorted. Part of him wanted to step out of the loom that this man was giving him, but Chuuya never backed down from a challenge. “I don’t make it a habit of working with the Armed Detective Agency.” The other looked frozen, but Chuuya had already waited an hour for him, and wasn’t feeling generous. “Shall we?”
He moved past Dazai, towards the field and the house where Q was supposed to be according to Mori’s intel. There wasn’t a lot around the small brick building, just rows and rows of forests. It set Chuuya’s instincts on edge.
Dazai followed him doggedly, frowning the entire time. Chuuya had no idea what put the other in his mood, but he didn’t have the energy to deal with it. The house was deserted, which set the hairs on the back of Chuuya’s neck standing straight up.
Sure, he was powerful – he knew that there were few Ability users that could hold up against him.
But no guards? For Q? Even Chuuya wouldn’t be fooled by such a tactic. And then he saw them in the trees, a tall man with long dark hair and the most bored expression on his face next to a sturdy blonde. The click of guns behind the trees made him honestly breathe in relief. So there were guards. That made things so much more cut and dry.
Chuuya wasted absolutely no time in lifting a sizeable chunk of the field and throwing it at the head of the taller man. He went down before he could say anything. The mass of grunts in the trees were no match for the redhead either.
The blond, dressed in overalls with an old-style cap looked aghast. “What the-?” he let out in surprise before vines started growing in the ground from his shoulder. Dazai had followed Chuuya, swiftly grabbing the blond’s arm.
“You can erase Abilities?” the other shouted.
Chuuya frowned. So that’s what Dazai could do. The brunette caught his eye, and in a flash of inspiration, Chuuya knew the plan. He ran forward, springing up, and swinging his legs around. He used Dazai’s shoulder as a balance – and cold washed over him when he did – his foot making contact with the blonde’s face. There was a brief flash of something in his mind, almost as though something unlocked.
"Then I’ll put a little curse on you. I, being fifteen as well, will continue to grow while you’ll stay the same height."
He dropped lightly, feeling the world return to him as soon as his fingers left Dazai’s coat. Hr frowned at them. Was that what gravity felt like without Tainted Sorrow? He shook off something in the back of his mind, something that he had felt like he had known that feeling before. More concerning, something beating beneath his breast. And what was that moment he… remembered? Did Dazai's Ability also give hallucinations?
He had been so lost in thought that he missed when Dazai crept up behind him until the other had tapped him on the back of the head. Chuuya batted his hand away. “What the fuck?” he asked.
"Yep, you’re still a piece of shit. Your plan better not fail and get us both killed, or I’m gonna kill you, Dazai."
“Is Chibi… all right?”
Chuuya blinked away whatever was happening to him. He was tired - overly tired if he was going to be honest. He had just returned from the western territories a few days ago, so that made sense. He just needed to get through tonight.
“Why the fuck do you keep calling me weird names?” Chuuya had known this man for five minutes and was already exasperated at him. He had a way of testing the redhead’s patience in a way that he had never known another to do. Not even Tachihara got his eye twitching like this so fast.
The other looked contemplative, hooking his arms behind his head, interlacing the fingers. “Because Chuuya is a chibi and a slug,” he replied, that shit-eating grin on his face.
Chuuya rolled his eyes. “You’re a fucking idiot, aren’t you?”
Chuuya muscles past Dazai and towards the building holding Q.
Dazai caught up to him in seconds, reaching out and grabbing Chuuya’s arm. He spun the smaller man to face him, a serious look on his face. He was scanning Chuuya’s eyes for something though Chuuya was completely unsure as to what he was looking for.
“This joke isn’t funny, slug,” Dazai snapped, his voice wavering on an emotion that Chuuya couldn’t quite guess.
Chuuya cocked an eyebrow at him. “What fucking joke?” he snarled, wrenching his arm from Dazai’s. “In case you forgot, asshole, we have a mission to complete.”
Dazai’s fingers had been cold, sending something spiraling through Chuuya that he couldn’t describe. Cold and warmth and a sense of known that he had never experienced before. What was happening to him?
Dazai’s eyes widened slightly, almost too quickly to be seen but Chuuya had seen it - the look of horror.
“But… you’re my dog.” His voice sounded forlorn and Chuuya felt his eye twitch again.
“Listen here, asswipe,” he growled as he whirled on the other, grabbing Dazai’s shirt in his fist and slamming him against the wall. “I am no one’s dog. I’ve never met you before in my life and if you’d like me to not stab the shit out of you, I suggest you shut the fuck up right now.” He released Dazai, watching the taller man slide down the side of the building, clutching at his chest before he let out a huff of annoyance and wrenched open the door to the building.
Dazai followed quietly behind him, a blank expression on his face. The building was decent enough, even though Chuuya thought it would be decrepit. It was empty, with wood paneling that had seen better days, and a trap door in the center of the room.
Chuuya crouched next to it, drawing his gloved fingers carefully around the edge. No wires. No traps that he could detect. He grasped the handle and pulled upwards, revealing the stairs leading down into darkness.
It took him a moment before realizing that Dazai was talking, muttering to himself. He thought about ignoring it, but heard “bomb” and “car.”
His fists clenched. “Was it you?” he asked, voice dangerous.
“Hmm?” Dazai said.
Chuuya looked over his shoulder at the other as he stood. “Was it you that put the bomb in my car four years ago?”
Dazai laughed, though it sounded strained. “You remember that then?”
Chuuya inhaled sharply, remembering Mori’s warning not to kill this man. Clearly, Mori knew Dazai – or at least of him, and quite possibly knew many of his exploits as well.
“Let’s go,” Chuuya said, leading the way into the darkness.
Dazai followed. “What, nothing about your car?” he goaded, trying to get a rise out of the mafioso. “I thought you loved it. Even named it and everything.”
Chuuya inhaled sharply, a line of tension squaring his shoulders. “Look, Dazai, did I do something to personally offend you or are you this much of a fucking shit normally?”
Dazai didn’t hesitate before answering, “Yes.”
Chuuya pinched the bridge of his nose. “You gonna enlighten me on what I did?”
“Hmm,” the brunette looked contemplative. “Well, I hate everything about you.”
Chuuya couldn’t help the kick he sent at the other. He had been patient and professional and this… this guy would try the patience of a saint.
Dazai ducked, a bored look on his face. “It’s no use,” he said, scratching the back of his head. “I’ve fully grasped your attacks, down to the timing and breathing.”
“I was going easy, if not I woulda crushed your skull.”
“Ooh, that’s scary,” Dazai grinned as he opened the door at the bottom of the landing. “Though, I’m already familiar with your true abilities.” Ice slid down Chuuya’s spine when he said that. There was no… “Look, there it is, you see that? Our very own Sleeping Beauty.”
He ducked into the room, showing off Q’s doll on a chair and Q themself held up by the trunk of a massive tree.
It didn’t take them long to get Q down, and Chuuya wasn’t paying attention to anything the other was saying. His mind was still caught on the last thing – I’m already familiar with your true abilities.
Something about the way Dazai had said that had curled into Chuuya. He had looked so knowing, though it could have been an act. Chuuya loaded Q onto his back, lifting the kid up as easily as if he was weightless.
He noticed that Dazai took Q’s doll, but at this point, he had fulfilled the mission and just wanted to go home.
He wasn’t paying attention to Dazai, or Q, or anything, until a long green tentacle wrapped around his neck, pulling him back out of the house. Brick chips sliced against his cheekbones, and he spat blood when his flight was stopped by a large tree. Wiping it off his chin, he got shakily to his feet.
Fuck, it was going to be one of those days.
It would be an understatement to say that Dazai hadn't been pleased when he had found out who he was partnering with tonight. Ranpo had given him a knowing look before he left the office, with Kunikida bellowing "Don't mess this up, idiot" behind him.
Chuuya. He was going to be paired up with Chuuya of all people. Couldn't he have Akutagawa, or Hirotsu - Hirotsu would have been a great choice.
He felt Mori's hand in this, in the sly smile the other had sent him as a parting expression at their meeting earlier that day.
Dazai had been there at eight, hiding in the trees, watching Chuuya stand there. The other hadn't changed much in the past four years - still the same height, still moved more as his patience wore thin.
He was still wearing that tacky hat. Dazai thought it would be funny to see if he could steal it by the end of the night.
He waited.
Chuuya had to know he was here - he used to do this all the time when they had to team up as kids.
Chuuya definitely looked annoyed, and at one point pulled out his phone to call someone.
Dazai frowned. Why wasn't Chuuya shouting for him like normal? He had to know Dazai was here - or at least suspected it.
No one called his name.
After nearly fifty minutes of waiting for his slug to shout for him, and ignoring the pain in his chest - clearly heartburn - Dazai walked out of the treeline.
And was completely aghast at the fact that Chuuya had no idea who he was.
It was a desperate move, Chuuya knew that, but nothing else was working. He had tried to prevent this, but maybe - maybe if this Ability user could stop him. Maybe he could use it. He was hesitant, but against the monstrosity in front of him, he would have no choice but become a monster.
"You say you can nullify Abilities?" he asked, feeling the bruises began to rise on his arms as he shook them to keep them limber.
Dazai looked at him, surprised. "I… yes," he stammered out, and there was a feeling of dread growing in the pit of his stomach. Chuuya couldn't mean…
Chuuya grabbed him by the collar of his coat, pulling him so close that he could feel Dazai's breath on his cheek, feeling that sense of… something washing over him again, like the lanky bastard in front of him was… it didn't matter.
"I don't care if you're a piece of shit, Dazai Osamu," he growled in the other man's ear. "But you fucking stop me before I kill an innocent."
"Ch-" Dazai began but was cut off by the mafioso.
"That's your job, isn't it?" he gave a huff, mentally preparing himself for what came next. "You're on their side, aren't you?"
If the side doesn't matter, then you should be on the side of good. Save them.
Fuck, Dazai felt himself be flung away with the sheer power of Chuuya, stumbling back. How did Chuuya trust him this much?
"Oh, granters of dark disgrace, you need not wake me again."
A movement to his left and he turned his attention away from the scars, burning crimson, running down Chuuya's skin as gravity bowed to him and no other.
A knife to the blond's - John? he thought this guy's name was John, but that also required him to care - prevented him from moving. "Shhh, you're going to ruin the show," he whispered sinisterly in the Guild member's ear, a hand twisting John's arm behind his back and the knife kissing against his skin.
"What is he?" John's face was horrified. He knew Lovecraft - as well as anyone could - but to see someone else exude such power was daunting.
Dazai sighed, almost dreamily. "That's my partner, do you want to make a bet on who's going to win?" he purred in the other's ear.
John gulped, watching the showdown between the two gods in front of him - because that was the only thing he could think of. A clash of titans so great that even the exchange of tentacle and fist was throwing up a wind powerful enough to send a normal man sprawling.
"Even if he's… nothing can get through Lovecraft's skin."
Dazai grinned at this, instead of alarm like John thought he would have. He shouted at the beast on the field, and then…
It was over in a flash - a bomb, a black hole large enough to engulf John's vision, and Lovecraft was down.
Chuuya was still cackled madly, throwing gravitons left and right, screaming his destructive joy.
"Ah, that's my queue," Dazai whisper was a song in his ear, his breath causing hairs to rise on the back of John's neck. "Night night."
John felt the hit on the back of his head, thinking of nothing else as he slumped forward.
Dazai walked forward, breathless at seeing Chuuya's power. It always left him in awe, this display by the other man. There was something so intoxicating at watching him gracefully destroy everything around him.
Perhaps Dazai was a bit mad.
"That's enough," he whispered to the other, grabbing his wrist. "You can rest now."
He had always been curious as to why it was so easy for him to get close to Chuuya.
No one was allowed near Arahabaki in a rage, not a single person could get close outside of Dazai. Dazai, who had never had any problem slipping in between the ragged fields of battle left behind by Chuuya's gravity, never had any issue moving silently - or shouting loudly at one memorable time because Chuuya had been floating and Dazai couldn't fly - to stand next to the smaller redhead, and grab his hand.
Chuuya's wrist was so small compared to his long fingers, and Dazai wondered for a moment if the other was eating properly - though that was absurd. It had always been Chuuya taking care of Dazai.
Chuuya's body froze in his grasp, the muscles lined with pain. Dazai held him as he leaned forward, vomiting blood onto the ground.
"I know… its…" Chuuya murmured, his voice slurred and his eyes hazy. "Sooner."
Dazai smiled at the other, almost indulgently. How was he to explain to Chuuya that there was just so much beauty in watching him at full power - that feeling like Dazai was waltzing with his own death?
He couldn't. Because Chuuya didn't remember him.
Chuuya sank to the ground, and Dazai reluctantly released him to crouch beside him. Chuuya leaned back on his arms, breathing heavily. Dazai watched the rise and fall of his chest and then something caught his eye.
He reached forward, ripping Chuuya's shirt away from the left side of his chest, heart pounding, a roaring in his ears.
Because on the blood-stained, flushed skin was the mark that Dazai knew very well. Two black circles, entwined like a Venn diagram, a filled-in infinity symbol.
Dazai's blood went cold.
"Hey," Chuuya snapped, batting Dazai's hand off his shirt weakly and readjusting it. "What the fuck?"
"You…" There was something unnatural in Dazai's voice, as though every word were a breath hidden in a crypt. "It's you."
"Get off me, Dazai," Chuuya's voice was laced with pain and warning, low and guttural. Dazai knew it was mostly for show. After Corruption took its toll, Chuuya was weak as a newborn kitten, all teeth and no strength.
Instead, Dazai leaned forward, bracketing Chuuya in his arms, so close he could see the flecks of gray in his blue eyes. "Why," he voice was cold, fury hissing at the edges of each word. "Didn't. You. Tell. Me."
Chuuya gave a garbled noise in his throat.
And passed out.
Dazai caught him before his head could connect with the ground, laying him softly down upon the grass.
Emotions raged within him. Had Chuuya known?
He had half a mind to leave Chuuya here. It would serve him right, the traitorous bastard. His dog. Wasn't that a laugh? His ever-loyal puppy who had lied to him about his soulmark.
Dazai could scream.
Dazai could kill.
He flopped onto the ground next to Chuuya, the other already snoozing away, soft breaths puffing out in ragged gasps. Dazai turned on his side, reaching out to push a strand of bloodied red hair behind Chuuya's ear.
Soulmates. He had a soulmate.
I've never met you before in my life.
He had a soulmate that had completely forgotten him.
Standing, feeling the nervous jitter of his limbs that always came from sitting in place for too long, Dazai walked around the clearing. He couldn't believe it. He had a soulmate. He always thought that No Longer Human would cancel that connection.
It took him fifteen minutes to find Chuuya's hat. It had snagged on a branch and Dazai spent a moment jumping to reach it. Honestly, the things he did for his…
His fingers stilled on the felt brim, feeling the old material beneath his thumb pads.
His what?
What was someone to him that forgot about him?
What could… it had to be an Ability. Dazai chewed on his fingernail after dropping the hat next to Chuuya's sleeping body. He wished the other kept a better handle on the items he threw away when Corruption started. It was hard to find those leather gloves in the dark. As he searched, he sent a text to Hirotsu, letting him know to pick up Q.
The grass was damp beneath Chuuya's skin, the wind offering a soft caress through his hair. He could feel the warmth of the dawn sun across his cheekbones. He was stiff, sore, and he was pretty sure the stickiness on his face was blood.
Chuuya frowned, groggy. Of course he was still in the grass, he thought, that asshole, Dazai-
Dazai.
Oh.
Oh.
Pain blossomed underneath his chest as he remembered. Why did he have to remember? Why did Dazai insist on being so… so… touchy-feely the night before?
He opened his eyes, snapping them closed again as the light immediately gave him a headache.
"Ah, you're awake then," a voice greeted to his left.
Chuuya counted to ten before slitting open his eyes again. The light didn't hurt as much the second time around, though he could still feel a headache growing. It took a moment for the voice to catch up with him and he turned, not having the energy to sit up.
Dazai was sitting, leaning on one leg with the other stretched in front of him, staring at Chuuya with an unreadable expression.
Of course, he stayed. The one time that Chuuya would have preferred him to disappear like he always did, the stupid mackerel was there.
Chuuya cursed, something shifting in his chest - fractured rib? God, he hoped it wasn't broken. He didn't have time to be dealing with broken ribs. Those would put him out for at least three weeks.
Dazai leaned forward, poking his finger into the divet of Chuuya's cheek. "Hey, wake up," the brunette complained. "I've been waiting hours for you to wake up."
Chuuya groaned. "I've been waiting years for you to… fuck off and die," Chuuya let out. Breathing was an issue. Shit, that meant there probably were broken bones. Perhaps Corruption had messed with his lungs again? He wouldn't be able to tell for a few days.
He was going to murder Mori for this whole debacle when he got a chance. The Boss's behavior the day before made so much more sense now, as did Kouyou's.
Damn them both.
Dazai hmmmd next to him, something between a hum and a word. Chuuya sighed. He was exhausted, he was in pain, and this was not a conversation he ever wanted to have.
And he hated how much he craved the other's presence in that moment. That Dazai was here. Something within his traitorous heart thumped happily, almost hopefully.
If Chuuya could, he would carve out his own heart and soulmark, just to be able to sleep again.
"We need to talk, Chuuya," Dazai finally said, breaking into the redhead's thoughts.
Chuuya heaved himself to a sitting position, vision whiting out, and gasping as the cracked rib shifted. He nearly passed out again from the pain alone, but if Dazai wanted to talk, Chuuya wasn't going to be laying down like some fairy tale princess.
"Later," Chuuya told him, grabbing at his coat - he noted it was folded neatly beside him. He frowned at that. His hat and gloves were there as well. Chuuya looked at them, then back at Dazai, "You didn't put itching powder on them again, did you, because I will-"
Dazai laughed, cutting Chuuya off. Chuuya felt that traitorous thump again beneath his sternum. Dazai rarely laughed - he cackled, he chuckled, he maniacally giggled, but he didn't laugh, not so freely.
Chuuya felt a part of him realize that this was Dazai… without him.
He had the unlucky realization that he had been rejected not once, but twice, by his soulmate. Was he really that awful?
Is it because he wasn't human?
"So Chuuya remembers me now?" the brunette asked.
Chuuya frowned. There was something in those glowing amber eyes, caught in the rays of the sun, that looked… almost hesitant.
"Yeah, dumbass," Chuuya whispered, disbelievingly. "I remember you."
Dazai's smile was hesitant, but in the morning sun, it was blinding.