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A week had passed. A week filled with extra work, of uncovering remaining Mimic spies. A week since the death of Oda Sakunosuke and the betrayal of Sakaguchi Ango. And of course, a week without Dazai Osamu.
It was 1 or 2 am, or had been the last time Chuuya had checked. He sat by the kitchen isle in his apartment and swirled the wine in his glass. The taste was barely perceptible. He'd been sent home on the grounds that his team could handle the remaining work. As if Chuuya had something better to do than run around the alleyways of Yokohama hunting down traitors. He glanced at the paperwork he had decided to sort through instead. It didn't look too appealing.
The Port Mafia had been turned upside down since the disappearance of Dazai about a week ago. It had taken a few days for them to realize that the man was likely gone for good. His innocence could've been argued if he hadn't deleted most of the Mafia's data files as he went. When Chuuya found out from Mori, he'd lost it and left visible cracks on the floor with his ability. When he returned the next day the marks had been hidden by a well-placed rug but the rage he'd felt had yet to disappear. He rarely flew off the handle like that, especially in Mori's presence. Had his reaction been joy from discovering the bandaged bastard gone? It seemed unlikely. Right now, the only thing Chuuya felt was bitter.
Things had changed fast. And they had changed a lot. Poorly hidden whispers followed him wherever he went, questioning the fate of the near mythical Double Black. Could Chuuya alone fare as well in a fight as he had with a partner? Who would fill the now-open executive spot? Would Dazai sell out the Mafia's secrets?
Work the two of them had previously split was now Chuuya's responsibilty. He finished it all with pride but was still left with bone-deep exhaustion. Reporting back to Mori and seeing his disappointment at the permanent absence of a certain someone didn't help, either. In the boss's eyes Chuuya would always be the remaining half of a greater whole.
Sharp knocks interrupted his thoughts and he went to open the door with a kitchen knife swiftly slipped into his sleeve. Midnight guests were always to be treated with caution. Especially with all the potential backstabbers out there. The thought made Chuuya clench his fist. He was not in a good mood.
Finding, who else but Dazai at his doorstep, proved to Chuuya that his choice to carry a weapon had been wise. He reacted by pressing the knife's tip against Dazai's throat. His irritation grew when Dazai's expression only shifted to mildly amused. "Evening Chuuya."
"The traitor dares return, then." He nicked Dazai's skin so a trickle of blood dripped down before lowering his arm. He debated between slamming the door shut or punching the asshole's teeth in. Before he reached a decision though, Dazai pushed past him and into the kitchen. Chuuya followed and watched as he went straight for the cupboard where Chuuya kept his whiskey. His movements were relaxed and deliberately slow. He poured himself a glass and went to sit opposite to where Chuuya had left his glass.
Dazai's presence kept Chuuya standing. Observing as the other sipped his drink, he wondered about his motives. Dazai didn't act without a goal. So, why was he here? Why now, in the middle of the night? Dazai seemed obstinate about remaining quiet but Chuuya refused to be the one to break the silence. Two could play at that game.
Except he couldn't, dammit! He couldn't stand around here the whole night waiting for Dazai to finally open his big mouth. Why did he once again feel like he was losing at a game that hadn't even begun?
"I could kill you right now. Get it done with." Chuuya made sure to keep his voice even. Eyes turned to look at him, one dark, one covered. They seemed to ask: That's what you start off with?
"But you won't," Dazai replied, cocksure as ever.
"Yeah, because at least one of us holds some basic respect for our old partnership. Next time I'll cut your throat, though." A pause to collect his swirling thoughts. "Why the hell are you here, Dazai?"
There was no immediate response. Dazai seemed to be weighing his options, the best suited words. Chuuya wasn't sure, what it was that he wanted to hear. The moment kept on stretching until it shattered with Dazai's confession:
"I'm here to make you an offer." Dazai studied his face, searching for a reaction. Chuuya tried to keep his face neutral, while also wanting to strangle Dazai for pausing. "Leave the Port Mafia and come with me."
Wait. Chuuya short-circuited. Wait, what? For Dazai to betray and leave the Mafia was one thing, but now he was asking Chuuya to come with him?
"What the hell are you on? What ever gave you the idea I'd willingly leave!" He raised his voice, not out of anger but exasperation.
Again, Dazai waited a moment before responding. Trying to pick out words to reason with Chuuya. "If you stopped having tunnel vision you might actually see it's worth it. Chuuya, you're nothing but a dog to Mori so why would it hurt to leave him? Or the organization."
Dazai's visible eye had a strange, unfamiliar glint in it. It made Chuuya uncomfortable. He wasn't talking to the Port Mafia's Demon prodigy anymore. This was someone else.
"You've been stuck for three years, for me it's been longer. I have a plan. You can be cut free. It's risky but it'll work. We'll make it work, Chuuya. We could go to the other side, the better-",
He was cut off when Chuuya clamped his hand over his mouth. "Shut. Up." Dazai was blabbering. He spoke too fast, too urgently. Cold calculation had suddenly been thrown out the window.
Dazai was changing. Even if his clothes were Mafia black and the familiar white bandage covered his right eye, the way he spoke like maybe some things mattered after all, was different. Realization was sharp as it hit Chuuya.
"What...no, who changed you?" The question was out before he could stop himself. The answer was already painfully obvious.
"Maybe I just realized killing others isn't the way I want to live."
What a joke. Chuuya barked out a laugh. "You don't even want to live so why should it matter to you? You can't escape when your blood runs Mafia black. Did Odasaku promise you could?" It was a low blow and Chuuya knew it. Why should he care?
The darkness that clouded Dazai's face caught him off guard and he took an unconscious step back. The threat in his voice matched his expression: "Don't you dare mention him."
Normally he would've apologized, even to Dazai. The death of a friend was something Chuuya had had his fair share of experience with. Tonight, he couldn't be bothered.
The tension in the room grew as Dazai reeled back from his sudden show of emotions. He smoothly continued on like nothing had happened. "If you come with me, I promise Mori won't be able to reach us. You don't have to live in bloodshed forever."
He was actually suggesting it. He seemed to think it was a good idea. Dazai wanted both of them to leave the Port Mafia behind. As if it would be that easy.
"What a generous offer, coming from slime like you. And I should believe you're not up to another one of your schemes? You're after something but you won't get it, not from me. So thanks but no. I think I'm good to go. I don't mind living among bloodshed even if it's for the rest of my life."
The answer did not please Dazai. "Stupid hat rack, you won't even consider it! I'm giving you a chance to not have to fight for your life, for even the tiniest specks of respect and gratitude from Mori every day."
Dazai was really testing his patience.
"Listen, shit face. You may have had a grand vision of a life out of the shadows but have you considered I like working for the Port Mafia? That I don't need change? Go ahead, go to "the other side" if you so desire. I don't even need to see it."
There wasn't much else to say. Dazai was stubbornly sticking to his story even though Chuuya was sure there was something else to it. The man he knew would never have asked this. Asked a question that would indicate that Dazai actually valued him, cared about leaving him behind. Chuuya tried to rack his brain for answers.
Dazai obviously saw the confusion and conflict on his face. He took a sip from his glass. "That's all there is, Chuuya. How the hell could there be an ulterior motive behind this?"
Chuuya could come up with a few. "If I say yes, you could tattle back to Mori, you could use me as a distraction in your escape plan. Manipulation, selling me out to the cops, anything's possible when it comes to you! I'm oh so sorry for not trusting you."
"You trust me with Corruption," Dazai noted.
Chuuya huffed. "I don't have a choice. At least with you gone I can stop using that nightmare ability."
Now it was Dazai's turn to laugh. "How sweet. You really think Corruption's lethality to its user will stop Mori? You'll turn into a sacrificial pawn the minute he needs one."
Chuuya gritted his teeth. There was no denying it. But he'd always been prepared for that. "I'd be glad to die for the Port Mafia."
He wondered if it was disgust that flashed in Dazai's eye. Then he pushed his glass away and stood up. Slinking closer to Chuuya, he spoke in a quiet voice.
"But you don't have to. You're always ready for a fight, knowing it could be your last." He stood too close, staring him down. Chuuya was forced to take another step back. "Since you were eight, you've fought for a place in the world. Doesn't it get tiring?" Chuuya barely registered the hand now cupping his cheek. Dazai spoke softly. It felt like a trance. "Come with me Chuuya, you could live without fear. With just the two of us we'd manage. We don't need others."
Listening to him, it made sense. It was tiring living side by side with death. Peace had never felt like an attainable reality. Peace had never felt this intriguing, too good to be true. Dazai was so close a whisper was enough. Chuuya could feel his smirk near his ear, certain of victory. "I'll leave the final choice up to you."
Something snapped. Chuuya wondered if Dazai had heard it. He smacked his arm away, instincts screaming to punch him, kick him, anything to hurt the man in front of him.
He'd heard it too many times.
"It's up to you if you want to use Corruption."
"Your plan or my plan. I'm sure you'll pick the more beneficial one."
"In the end it's your own choice."
Fuck that. It had never, never been Chuuya's own choice. He didn't make the final calls. Always manipulated by Dazai, always lead on. And here they were, Dazai certain he had won. That he had Chuuya on his side to play whatever mind games he had planned. But Chuuya was done. Sick of him, sick of being pulled along.
"My choice is fuck you. Get out of my house."
If Chuuya hadn't known better, the look Dazai gave him might have been one of hurt or betrayal. Good. The bastard ought to know what it felt like.
"You'll regret it later, Chuuya. When I have a place in the light and you're stuck to the shadows."
He should've left it there. Pointed to the door and kicked him out. But Chuuya, ever the fool, decided to give him one more chance.
"Why did you ask me to come with you?"
It was a question Dazai hadn't expected judging from the brief surprise his face gave away. In the past minutes Dazai had shown more emotion than during the three whole years of their partnership. Chuuya hated it for reasons he didn't care to explore.
Chuuya waited, wondering what lie would be spat in his face next. He waited, wondering if he was capable of recognising the truth if Dazai chose to speak it. The final answer didn't feel like either.
"We're a team, Chuuya."
A half-truth then. But where was the other half?
They were a team. Double Black. They hated each other. The hat rack and the bandaged bastard. The King of the Sheep and the Demon prodigy. Chuuya and Dazai. Dazai and Chuuya. It's how things worked. How they used to work. And the death of one man had changed that. Unless Chuuya had been nothing but a puppet all along.
"Not anymore, Dazai."
Dazai's face returned to neutral. He didn't bat an eye. "Fine."
"Fine!"
Chuuya had been the one to turn him down so why did he feel close to losing his mind? Without prompting Dazai turned to leave. He only got a few steps away before turning back. He looked straight at Chuuya, daring him to speak, as he reached up to the bandage covering his face. He untied it carefully revealing another equally dark eye. Chuuya's lungs were frozen.
"I forgot this." Dazai let the white fabric fall to the floor. And with that, he was gone.
Chuuya stayed there for a long while, staring at the bandages on the floor. The last remains of the Demon prodigy. Of the Dazai Osamu that he knew.
Sorting out his thoughts gave him a headache. So he stopped trying. He walked to the counter that still held Dazai's unfinished glass. WIthout a second thought, Chuuya picked it up and flung it at the wall. The crash echoed brightly throughout the empty apartment. Amber liquid and shards of glass flew, one of them tearing Chuuya's cheek open. He didn't feel better.
He stumbled into his bedroom. It would be good to get some sleep. His head was heavy like he'd been drinking all night. How strange. He'd have to wake up early tomorrow. He had enough unfinished work for two people. But there was only Chuuya. Just Chuuya.
He should get some sleep.