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Dazai felt eyes on him the entire meeting.
Chuuya’s eyes specifically. They were cold and sharp as Dazai joked around and complained about the workload he had to do for this new agency case. No one noticed Chuuya’s intense scrutiny, not until he spoke up.
“So you’re still doing this shit?” Chuuya asked flatly. Dazai’s coworkers looked at the mafioso with confusion then back at Dazai, whose goofy smile had tightened.
Dazai knew exactly what he was talking about and, frankly, didn’t want to continue this line of conversation. Unfortunately, Atsushi stepped in before Dazai could divert the topic. “What do you mean, Chuuya-san?”
“Slug—”
“He’s got you all wrapped around his finger,” Chuuya said abruptly to cut Dazai off, not looking at his former partner, only the other agency members, “falling exactly where he wants you.”
Chuuya cocked his head to the side in mock confusion as a small smirk turned his lips up. “And you don’t even realize it, do you?”
Dazai grinned as Chuuya’s gaze dragged to meet his, hate in Chuuya’s eyes and annoyance in his own. “My puppy must have run in too many circles trying to catch his tail. They are my coworkers, I should desire to work well with them, ne, Chuuya?”
“I’m not your anything, shitty asshole,” Chuuya spat out before standing and leaning over the table so he was closer to Dazai’s face. Dazai leaned in as well, meeting the challenge with a smile on his face. A dangerous smile that only Chuuya could read.
Back off.
Chuuya ignored the warning. “You may act like you’re suddenly this amazing, benevolent golden boy, but we both know the truth. You haven’t changed one goddamn bit since you left the mafia. Isn't that right, Demon Prodigy?”
Dazai’s amusement flickered for a second.
“Explain, Nakahara,” Kunikida demanded. The agency watched the showdown between the ex-partners, all feeling the tension rising in the room.
Chuuya held Dazai’s eyes. The dark, heartlessness he saw in them was a familiar sight to Chuuya. To anyone who knew the Demon Prodigy. Trying to scare him into shutting up. As if that’s ever worked before. “Let me guess, he smiles and always acts like an idiot? He comes in late and always complains about his work until someone else does it for him? He never directly answers your questions, not when it matters?”
Everyone was quiet.
That was answer enough, although Chuuya didn’t need their confirmation. No one knew that bandaged idiot like he did. Chuuya rolled his eyes and continued his assault.
He wanted to hurt Dazai. Hurt Dazai as Dazai had hurt him. Chuuya clicked his tongue and shook his head in mock sympathy. “And here I thought you were trying to be a good person, Osamu.”
Dazai cracked.
“You don’t know what you’re talking about,” he said calmly as he glared at Chuuya. Chuuya sat back down, reclining against the back of the chair and relaxed.
“Don’t I? We both know your bullshit doesn’t work on me. No matter how hard you tried to make me your—as you say— dog . How’s that working out for you? Have your master plans succeeded, Mackerel?”
Everyone was staring at them, especially Dazai, with bewilderment and horror.
They’d never seen Dazai look at anyone the way he was looking at Chuuya right now. The murderous, calculating eyes. Willing to do anything to get his way, especially if it happened to hurt his opponent as well.
“It’s not as easy as you seem to think, Chuuya.”
The agency flinched at his tone. Chuuya wasn’t phased. He was too familiar with it, knew the emotions behind that voice too well to be scared. Yet Dazai’s excuses and justifications were pissing Chuuya off.
“I lived with you, worked with you, loved you ,” His glower was ruthless and unflinching, four years of pain reflecting from it. “Don’t even try to feed me that bullshit.”
"Loved him?" Someone murmured.
At this point, they had both forgotten there were other people in the room with them. Neither man was willing to back down. “You know my upbringing. You know–”
“Save the sob story for someone who cares,” Chuuya interrupted. He was snappish because he knew all Dazai would give was pretty words and lies.
Dazai’s face hardened as he became more frustrated. He was losing whatever fucked up battle they were fighting. “Could you listen—”
Chuuya scoffed. “I know enough about you to know not to trust a word out of your mouth. Let’s not waste both of our time.”
“My, my,” Dazai mused with ridged words,” looks like you finally learned how to bark. Only took you eight years or were you a pushover in the Sheep too?”
“Take one fucking guess why I learned not to roll over and let people use me," Chuuya ground out as red surrounded him.
They stared each other down, the irritability between them was evident. Someone awkwardly cleared their throat from off to the side, breaking the silence. Chuuya stood and brushed off his clothes. “If you want to have an actual conversation and stop fucking around for the sake of your coworkers, you know where to find me.”
Everyone watched Chuuya start to walk towards the door, but he paused and turned back around. Not towards Dazai, but Yosano.
“He’s blind in his right eye and has chronic pain in his left shoulder and hands. He has an extremely high tolerance for Ativan, Morphine, Fentanyl, and Oxycodone and is poison resistant. He will never tell you about an injury if he can hide it. Ask him about his medical history.”
He looked sharply at Dazai. “And don’t fucking lie, I’ll be checking your files.”
They all looked mildly alarmed at this new pertinent information. Dazai was only staring at his shaking hands. Maybe in rage or for another reason entirely.
“You seem to know him well,” Yosano said mildly, but she was suspicious.
“I was his partner for three years.”
“Right…”
Chuuya walked out of the room before any more questions could be asked. He went for the office entrance but was blocked by a tall presence.
“What. Did. You. Do.” Dazai demanded. Chuuya crossed his arms.
“What you wouldn’t.”
Wouldn't trust. Would never trust anyone except Chuuya. Dazai clenched his jaw and looked away from Chuuya, something Chuuya knew he did when he was trying to calm down.
“I don’t know why you’ve decided to play God in my life—”
“ My life ,” Chuuya corrected. “I’m not going to be your shitty keeper anymore. If someone else wants to try to keep you alive, good goddamn luck to them. You are no longer my problem.”
He shoved past Dazai and slammed the front door behind him. He needed a drink. When he got to work, he couldn’t concentrate no matter how hard he tried. That mackerel plagued his mind. He thought cutting Dazai off would finally lift the weight off his shoulders, but he only felt worse.
He ended up going home early, although early happened to be midnight. There would be a wine glass, or bottle, in his hand for the rest of the night. Maybe he could forget this day ever happened.
When he got to his apartment, he immediately headed for the kitchen and grabbed a new bottle from his wine cooler. He popped it open and headed to the couch but stopped in his tracks.
“Out.”
“No.”
“Dazai,” Chuuya said through gritted teeth. “ Get out.”
“No.”
God, he was such a stubborn, annoying bastard. His eyes scanned over Dazai. He looked pathetic. More than usual.
Chuuya glared at his former partner. “Hurts, doesn’t it?”
“... what?”
“Being abandoned without warning.”
Dazai chuckled, hollow and exasperated. “So that’s what this is about.”
Chuuya set his bottle down on the counter, afraid he would shatter it due to how hard he was squeezing it. What else would this be about? Why couldn’t, why wouldn’t Dazai see how he ruined Chuuya?
“Me leaving the mafia had nothing to do with you, Chuuya,” Dazai said calmly as if trying to placate an upset child.
The nerve of this asshole.
“Nothing to do with me?” Chuuya laughed in disbelief. Dazai stood, trying to keep his perfect mask on despite how riled up he was getting.
“You aren’t the center of the universe, Chuuya. Not everything’s about you—”
“WE WERE ENGAGED, YOU FUCKING JACKASS! ” Chuuya yelled as he stomped over to Dazai and shoved him hard. So hard, Dazai tripped and fell to the floor. Chuuya was on him in a second, trembling hand gripping Dazai’s collar and pulling him up by it. “Everything you did involved me!”
Dazai didn’t dare look away from Chuuya. “Not one word in four years, Osamu!”
He let Dazai go, causing the younger to fall back on his ass. Chuuya huffed and hugged his own stomach. “You can’t imagine how it felt to be left by your fiancé without a single clue as to why.”
Dazai opened his mouth, but Chuuya spoke before Dazai could get a word out. “Don’t worry, Osamu, I'll do my best to recreate the experience for you. You’re all about learning and trying to be human? Let’s see how you do with this scenario.”
Chuuya grabbed the bottle and took a swing before setting it back down. Dazai, that useless man, was just sitting there, watching him. Unsure what to do and how to fix this. But Chuuya knew Dazai didn’t have what it took to fix this, not this time. Chuuya didn’t mean enough to him to even try. Chuuya was just a pawn after all. He didn't matter to anyone.
Always had been this way. Always would be this way.
“I’m done with your bullshit, now get out.”
Dazai swallowed heavily and nodded. “Fine, I’ll leave. I… I want you to know it was never my intention to hurt you.”
“Yet somehow you always manage to do the exact opposite,” Chuuya muttered loud enough for Dazai to hear. Another sip. “Get the fuck out of my apartment.”
Chuuya couldn’t look at Dazai, not when Dazai’s eyes were bloodshot. Not when tears were threatening to fall from his own eyes. Dazai didn’t say another word. Just walked out and quietly shut the door behind him.
Chuuya looked at the bottle and sighed.
He thought it’d be easier this time, yet somehow it hurt just as bad as the first.
One bottle wouldn’t be enough for the shit he wanted to forget. Chuuya sat on the couch, drinking and trying his best to numb himself.
The next meeting with both organizations was awkward. Everyone could feel the weird, uncomfortable energy between Chuuya and Dazai.
“Alright, I’ll bite. What happened?” Yosano asked.
“Nothing,” they both snapped, glowering at the walls so they didn’t have to even look in the direction of each other. Fukuzawa entered the room and sat across the table from Mori, who was watching the boys with an amused smile.
“Kunikida-kun, please, begin the meeting.”
Kunikida eagerly followed the order because they were behind schedule and because he wanted the tension between Soukoku to dissipate. The Port Mafia and Armed Detective Agency were teaming up for this mission because of the reported strength and size of their enemy. Not only strong ability users but intelligent ones as well. Those were always difficult to deal with.
“Chuuya-kun, we may need Corruption,” Mori said.
“My apologies, Mori-san, but no, I won’t do it. Find another way. I’m not leaving my life in his hands again.”
Mori nodded though he was clearly not happy with this predicament. “Very well.”
The discussion carried on.
Chuuya ignored how shattered Dazai looked. Usually, in meetings, Dazai was a loud, overbearing presence. They could barely get him to behave and shut up long enough to exchange information. Today, he shut down, expressionless and quiet unless asked for his opinion. Chuuya had seen all the agency members cast a concerned glance at Dazai at least once.
Chuuya pushed his guilt down. He wasn’t the one who left. He wasn’t the one who broke their relationship.
It wasn’t much longer before the meeting ended. The Port Mafia members said polite goodbyes as they made their leave. Chuuya was in the hall, about to walk down the stairs when he felt a strong grip on his wrist.
It hurt how warm Dazai’s persistence made him feel.
Chuuya stopped. The last Port Mafia member had disappeared down the stairs, leaving him and Dazai alone. Chuuya stayed planted where he was, facing away from Dazai.
“You know I’d never let anything happen to you in Corruption.”
The mafioso took a breath. “The last time I left my life in your hands, you destroyed it and I barely survived.” He yanked his hand out of Dazai’s hold. “I’ve learned from my mistakes.”
This time, Dazai didn’t try to stop Chuuya from leaving.
A week later, Chuuya heard the news.
“Dazai-kun resigned from the agency and is moving out of Yokohama,” Kouyou informed him over tea. Chuuya stilled from where he was lifting the cup to his lips. He didn’t know why it still stung him, stabbed him as it had four years ago. Chuuya really was a fool. It was as if nothing had changed.
But of course, he was. Of course, Dazai was running. Like he always did.
Chuuya wouldn’t let him weasel out of this peacefully. He politely excused himself, ignoring Kouyou’s knowing look, and raced to the dorms. When he got there, he slammed his foot into Dazai’s door, breaking the hinges in the process.
Dazai was packing.
He looked up at the sound, saw Chuuya, then turned back to what he was doing. Chuuya stepped into the dorm. It was bare other than the man himself and the piles of clothes and miscellaneous things Dazai was putting in a duffel bag.
“You’re running.”
“I’m moving,” Dazai corrected him.
“You think I’m going to let you go that easy? Think you just get to book it when your mistakes come back to bite you in the ass?”
Dazai sighed and stopped what he was doing. “Chuuya, I don’t know what you want from me. You want me out of your life but won’t let me leave. What am I supposed to do?”
He sounded tired and miserable.
That’s the first time Chuuya’s ever heard Dazai admit he doesn’t know something. The detective wasn’t putting up a wall between them and trying to pretend like everything was fine.
Because it wasn’t.
Not for either of them, Chuuya realized.
“I didn’t mean move, you bastard,” Chuuya hissed.
Dazai wiped a hand down his face before it dropped limply into his lap. “Tell me. Tell me how I can make you happy at least once. I can do this for you.”
Dazai’s dull expression turned into concern as he looked at Chuuya. “Chuuya?”
Chuuya couldn’t stop the angry, burning tears running down his face. Dazai was in front of him in an instant, hands reaching out to him but stopping inches away, unsure of what to do or if he was allowed to touch Chuuya.
“Tell me what I can do to make this better.”
Chuuya fully broke, shoulders shaking and loud cries coming from his lips.
“STOP FUCKING LEAVING ME,” Chuuya sobbed. “Just once, ONCE, I want someone to stay! I want to be important enough!”
Dazai paused, confused by the admission. “What?”
Chuuya scrubbed his eyes furiously, refusing to look at Dazai. He didn’t want to see what was in the mackerel’s eyes. He didn’t want to see the pity.
“I- I’m leaving. Forget I said anything. Enjoy your life or whatever.”
He turned to the door and instantly there were arms around his stomach and a chin on his shoulder.
“Chuuya,” Dazai murmured, “You are the most important person in my life. I know I’ve made mistakes, but I do love you.”
“You’re shit at showing it,” Chuuya choked as he wiped his tears, yet he didn’t make a move to get Dazai off him.
“If you give me the chance, I’ll show you every day how much you mean to me.”
“… you won’t leave?” Chuuya whispered hesitantly.
Dazai pressed a kiss to his cheek. “I’ll handcuff myself to you and throw away the key.”
Chuuya laughed and pushed at Dazai’s face. “Get off me. I don’t want to be chained to you, you’d drive me insane in less than an hour.”
“But Chuuyyaaaaa. I want to be by your side foreverrrrrrr.”
“You’re such a goddamn creep,” Chuuya muttered as he rolled his eyes. Dazai spun Chuuya around to face him and never let go. His arms stayed loosely wrapped around Chuuya’s waist so he could pull back and see the older.
Dazai looked at Chuuya and batted his eyes. “Only for my Chibi-chan.”
Chuuya smacked his shoulder and glared, although this time it was nothing more than playful. “Don’t call me that, shitty mackerel!”
Dazai's innocent, flirty gesture stopped and his face became apprehensive when Chuuya grinned.
“Earlier, you asked me if there was something you could do for me.”
Dazai nodded and hummed a confirmation.
Chuuya leaned forward. “You have to come to wine events with me.”
Dazai made a face. “Fine.”
“Massages twice a week.”
“Done.”
“Talk to Ane-san before she murders us both.”
Dazai shuddered. “Chuuya, darling, anything else.”
He pulled Chuuya closer, so closer the older’s chin was against Dazai’s chest as he looked up to meet Dazai’s eyes. “I have a lot to make up for, but I’m in this for the long haul. I don’t expect you to believe me or trust me. I lost that privilege the second I stepped away from you,” Dazai said softly. “But I will prove myself and earn your trust back.”
“You’re so damn cheesy. Jesus, have you been reading teen romance books in these four years?”
But Chuuya was blushing and smiling. And couldn’t stop. He had longed to hear those words for years.
Dazai tapped his chin thoughtfully at Chuuya’s question.
“You know there was this one with a werewolf—“
“Stop,” Chuuya groaned. “You’ve said enough.”
Dazai, of course, did the exact opposite and started chatting Chuuya's ear off about some love story between a werewolf and the moon. Past Dazai's words, Chuuya couldn’t help but admire how relieved the younger looked. As if he’d finally found something precious he’d lost long ago. There were years of hurt, even these last few months, especially these last few months, but they had time to mend their sorrows. Maybe Chuuya was naive to believe so, maybe he was so desperate for love, he would do anything to keep it.
But Dazai had never broken a promise before and Chuuya didn’t think he would start now.
The hole in his heart started to close, not gone, but healing.