Work Text:
Chuuya had just been doing paperwork. There was nothing to trigger this, not a single thing! He was in his quiet office, soft classical music playing to help him focus and keep the beast calmed.
It’s rare the music doesn’t calm the god possessing him. Guess this is one of those rare days..
“Shut up.” Chuuya growled when it first started almost an hour ago. He ruffled his hair a bit and huffed before trying to go back to his work.
Mori was expecting these papers today. To be finished today . He’s been working since early morning. This attack started an hour ago, and the sun is already high in the sky.
If he doesn’t finish these, the-
A particularly loud scream has Chuuya choking on his breaths, grip on his pen so tight it snaps. It spills ink all over his gloved hand, but he can’t be bothered to deal with it.
Loud. It’s loud. So fucking loud.
Chuuya misses the days it didn’t scream bloody murder in his mind. He misses the days when he had his hearing still perfect and his joints not aching with every movement. He misses the days he had no headache and could easily keep up with Dazai’s shit.
Ever since the morning after he used Corruption for the first time he began to hear the asshole of a creature. Before that, it had just been this weird ball of aggression and anger in his chest. A harsh feeling that had him swaying unbalanced, sometimes. A typhoon, as he once said when fifteen and fighting Rand- no, Rimbaud. His name was Rimbaud.
Chuuya curses himself. It’s getting louder. It’s getting worse.
Another loud, harsh screech had him nearly passing out from the pain. He buried his hands in his hair and pulled.
He can’t breathe. It hurts.
Chuuya has never been able to shut it up himself. When sixteen, he could deal with it. It wasn’t loud, just annoying. He didn’t say anything to anyone about it until it began getting worse when he was freshly eighteen.
Dazai had been the first he told.
Because Dazai could shut it up.
Dazai..
Chuuya glanced at his phone, debating how much he cared for his pride.
No. He can’t. He has to just push through and it will stop.
..right?
Chuuya tries. He tries so hard. Picking up a new pen and doing what he can to finish the paperwork. He was seeing double, though, and none of the words were processing in his mind as he read them over.
Chuuya flinched when the banging on the wall keeping Arahabaki trapped in his mind, keeping Arahabaki from taking over and he slammed a powered fist against his desk.
Splinters pushed past his gloves and stabbed through his skin. He didn’t notice the desk breaking clean in half.
He didn’t bother with his phone. He forgot about the paperwork. He forgot about his pride.
Loud, it’s too loud. Dazai. He needs it to shut up.
Chuuya didn’t notice as he stumbled to his office door. He didn’t notice walking out of the Port Mafia building. He didn’t see the many people asking if he was alright, seeing his face and the state he was in. He didn’t see or notice any of that. Not until he got to his destination.
Only then did he come back to himself just enough to look at the building to the Armed Detective Agency.
Another scream, loud and aggressive, had him nearly collapsing to the ground, random passersby getting concerned and trying to ask what was going on, if he was okay, but he ignored them and entered the building.
Fuck his pride. He needs Dazai before he goes completely deaf.
Dazai has never been fooled by anyone.
….
That’s not true. He’s been fooled by very few people. Only two have been consecutive, too.
Fyodor, of course. That man was always one step ahead despite Dazai’s trying. While Dazai isn’t too far behind him and always manages to outsmart Fyodor in the moment, he struggled to finish the job. Beating Fyodor had nearly destroyed the entire agency.
That had been such a hard, difficult time. He’s so glad he managed to end that war before it got even worse.
The other who can fool him consecutively? Chuuya. Always Chuuya.
From the reveal he was Arahabaki, to the next reveal that he’s just a vessel, that he was an experiment not just unlucky to have a terribly self destructive ability. From pranks to feelings to those weird, pesky urges to kiss or hold him.
Dazai hates physical touch and tends to avoid it as often as possible. His bandages serve two purposes, blocking the skin on skin contact with people and another thing he prefers to not think about if and when he can.
Chuuya has always been an anomaly to Dazai. Always. While he can predict Chuuya’s fighting and his decisions on the battlefield, there’s always something that can throw Dazai off.
It’s what makes Chuuya so fascinating to Dazai. The way he can’t guess what Chuuya is thinking on the day to day. His slug, his dog. He would give anything to have the redhead here today. It’s such a boring day, Kunikida seems to be ignoring every attempt at being riled up and Dazai’s just so tired.
…..
The door slammed against the wall as a body suddenly fell through it onto the floor.
Looking down, seems Dazai got his wish.
“Slug! hey! I was just thinking about y-!” Something’s wrong.
“Hatrack?” Dazai called, looking with narrowed eyes at the hunched and trembling redhead.
Chuuya would never act like this around the enemy. He’s too prideful for that. While the Agency and Mafia aren’t enemies, exactly, they aren’t necessarily on completely good terms. Something must be seriously wrong.
That’s when Dazai noticed the blood dripping from Chuuya’s ears, the blood beginning to stain the floor. He watched as Chuuya choked and more blood spattered on the floor.
Dazai was scrambling out of his desk chair. He banged his knee against the wood of his desk as he walked around it towards the door. He collapsed to the floor next to Chuuya and put a hand on the redhead’s back.
In a flash of light blue, Chuuya passed out.
“Tch.. why did you wait so long, slug?” Dazai whispered, gently cupping the back of Chuuya’s neck and lifting the man up on his side.
More blood slipped past those pale, plump lips and Dazai sighed. Chuuya waited too long. It’s gonna take more than a few days for this to blow over and Dazai knows for a fact, Chuuya’s hearing will only be worse when he wakes.
He just hopes the redhead hasn’t gone completely deaf..
“Chuuya, Chuuya, Chuuya.. whatever am I gonna do with you?” Dazai sighed again, watching as blood stopped dripping from those pretty lips. He turned Chuuya and cradled him close. He brushed ink and blood stained ginger hairs out of Chuuya’s peaceful face.
“Dazai.”
Shit, he forgot he was at the Agency.
“Yes Kunikida?” Dazai asked without lifting his head to look at the blond man.
“What is the meaning of this?” He demanded. Kunikida left no room for deflection, no room for leaving at a simple, dumb answer..
..but Dazai isn’t Dazai if he can’t avoid the subjects he wishes not to speak of.
So he doesn’t speak as he lifts Chuuya into his arms. He doesn’t speak as he turns away towards the agency door. He doesn’t speak as he walks out the door and down the hall. He doesn’t stop to explain while passing the President who had been about to come see what the commotion was about. He merely muttered that he was going home and to ask Rampo for an explanation. Dazai didn’t have time to dilly dally.
Chuuya needs him, and Dazai is determined to help his dog.