Work Text:
Despite Kunikida's many reservations about having an alliance with the biggest criminal faction in Yokohama city, there are some begrudging benefits to having such relations.
He admits to himself that having the ability to forewarn and gain permission to enter certain territories when the need to for a clients case arises, without having to tiptoe around the looming threat of possibly upsetting the mafia, is much less stressful on his nerves. There is also a certain amount of confidence in knowing that should the need arise, they have powerful allies to stand with, as was shown in the latest conflict against such vigorous foes.
Joint missions have become more common. As it turns out, being in situations where both sides had thrown themselves on the line for each other made most everyone more amicable to cohabitating.
All of these variables lead one Kunikida Doppo to his current situation.
"Oi, glasses," the infamous gravity manipulator says from the passenger seat. Chuuya Nakahara tightens one of his leather gloves, looking all too nonchalant for the mission ahead of them. "You ready?"
Kunikida nods resolutely, pushing his glasses up and grabbing his pen and notebook as they exit the vehicle.
They've parked a ways away from the warehouse they're headed, and as they begin the few blocks walk, the detective does his best to inconspicuously study the other.
Originally, this assignment was going to be done with the Black Lizard squad, but something came up and the executive himself has made the decision to fill the gap.
He knows startlingly little about Nakahara for someone so feared and respected throughout the masses. Beyond what (untrustworthy) details Dazai has claimed about the other, and rumors through the grapevine, he has very little to go on in regards to what he's like. This feels like the prime time to observe the other, only his own work ethic forces him to remain focused on the task at hand.
Finally they stop. The sun is just tucking itself beneath the horizon, and the warehouse across the road is where Ranpo said they'd find what they're looking for.
For the mafia's part, a small group (one of many that has cropped up during the rebuilding, like sharks that smell blood in the water) has encroached into port mafia territory and stolen some of their wares. Simultaneously, the detective agency's latest client is a mother begging them to find her son who had since stumbled into bad company after realizing his potential for crime with his ability. Communication with the alliance means that the agency could take the son once found, but the rest of his company will be dealt with however the mafia sees fit.
Chuuya narrows his eyes at the building, holding his coat over one shoulder. It swishes as he turns.
"So, glasses. How you want to do this?" he asks, and the detective blinks, pleasantly surprised the executive is asking for his opinion on the matter.
Seeing those blue eyes piercing him, he clears his throat. "There's several ways we could proceed. Our options as I see it, we subdue the entire group, and pluck the son straight from the pack. Or, we cause a distraction, and get him alone. Whether we take him by force would depend on his willingness to cooperate and discuss things peacefully."
Nakahara tilts his head, expression a thoughtful scowl. "Whichever works best for you, detective. These," he gestures with a jerk of his head, "are all small fry to me."
It strikes Kunikida that this is said in a way that isn't arrogant, but simply fact. If raiding a warehouse full of armed men is considered an easy job, what would the other consider a difficult one?
He shakes the thought free to focus.
"I'd prefer to avoid conflict if possible, but should the need arise..." With a flourish, he rips out a prepared paper. It transforms into a tazer gun, sturdy in his hand. "I am prepared."
Chuuya raises an eyebrow, before offering a hapless shrug. "Very well. Then, how about operation Mouse and Stampede?"
Kunikida blinks.
Chuuya blinks back.
"What?"
"...what?"
The detective frowns. "What did you just say?"
"Mouse and Stampede? You know?"
The stare match continues until Chuuya's patience snares. "The operation name! Where one is the mouse that sneaks in and gets the objective, while the other causes a ruckus, the stampede!"
Kunikida balks. "While with context that makes more sense, how would I have known such a code?"
Nakahara crosses his arms, looking for all accounts exasperated. Kunikida is almost offended at being in the receiving end of his own usual expression, but his confusion wins out.
"You and Dazai have formation codes, don't you? I thought he'd teach you them too. Ya know, like Castle In the Sky? Twenty White Horses?"
Kunikida stares, incredulous.
Chuuya sighs. "Nothing? Right, well, maybe he made you guys your own formation calls." He taps his crossed arm impatiently. "If so, just explain it to me, and I should be able to catch on quickly. I know well enough how that bastard operates, unfortunately," he adds, a roll of his eyes.
Kunikida is, unfortunately, still mentally floundering.
Chuuya is two seconds away from snapping his fingers in front of his face by the time the other recovers.
"Formation names? Code words? Dazai actually did those?!"
The yell was probably louder than a possible stealth mission should be, but Kunikida is too flabbergasted to care in the moment.
Chuuya also looks a bit shocked, though for a different reason. "Yeah? I mean, don't get me wrong, he's a lazy bastard through and through, but when it came down to it, he was meteculous with what he did, especially in regards to being a partner."
Kunikida feels as though he's been told the moon really is made of cheese.
The injustice of it all! Dazai could actually communicate with his partner?? Then why is he always dallying off and leaving Kunikida to trail behind to meet at the finish line?! That bandage wasting son of a-
"Wait, so if you guys don't have codes or formations or pre-planned scenarios, how the hell have you been deciding what to do in moments of crisis?"
Kunikida swallows heavily, the words stuck like peanut butter to the roof of his mouth. "...rock paper scissors. Winner decides."
The staring starts again.
Chuuya looks at the broken man before him, and against his own judgement, feels a sense of comradery and empathy for him.
"...let's wrap this up, and then how about a drink? On me."
*
*
*
"Wait, were you really the last to know??"
"I really was!!" Kunikida exclaims. "Everyone else was just walking around knowing he was in the mafia previously, but no one thought to tell me!"
A low whistle echos his sentiment.
"I didn't find out until the day we met up to talk about the potential alliance and found out Dazai was acting as the bridge."
"Bleck, glad I didn't make it to that one." A gloved hand kindly pats the detectives shoulder. "But seriously, I get it."
Kunikida inelegantly thumps his forehead on the bar counter. "I'm going to die from stress by the age of forty if things continue this way. I thought maybe the whole prison escapade would mellow him out a bit, but I was much too optimistic."
Chuuya leans with one elbow on the counter, the other hand swirling his nearly untouched wine.
Perhaps not untouched enough, for he opens his mouth and offers; "Alright, enough wallowing. I'll help you."
Kunikida peels himself upwards, a handsome flush to his cheeks from the alcohol.
"...huh?"
"You like writing and notebooks and stuff right? Well you better get yours out, cause I'm only going through this all once."
Eagerly, the detective readies his tools like a student starving for test answers, and Chuuya grins wildly as he begins.
"Okay, first thing..."
*
*
*
Dazai Osamu is considered a genius. And true geniuses, he thinks, trust their instincts. Logic and calculations are all well and good, but those who devalue instinct will never find anything beyond a calculator screen...
Or something profound like that!
Whatever words he twists together, it all compiles to the same genre; that something has changed within his environment or self, and it is bothering him.
It's midday, a droll Tuesday, as he sits at his desk, chin flat like a cat, squinting around the room in suspicion.
He begins with the variable to his right, one mentee, orphan he picked up off the street, rogue tiger turned strong warrior of Shin Soukoku; Atushi Nakajima.
Atsushi's hair and clothes are all relatively the same as always. His face and body have continued to sand down the baby fat and swell the starvation sallows, with muscles to show for his work and a confidence to his gait that was previously missing. While still timid in areas, typically in social situations, nothing has changed much regarding his mentee outside his new entanglement in a love triangle between the ex-guild girl in braces and his sickly mafia half.
All in all, everything regarding Atsushi is within his predictions.
So he moves on.
Yosano has no physical changes to her, a timeless beauty as always. But Dazai has witnessed the little acts of service she seems to have made a habit to sprinkle throughout the office. Whether it's extra snacks for Ranpo, or cute cat pictures for the President. It's beautiful in its bittersweetness. Loving harder in the face of almost losing it all.
This is not the anomaly though, so he continues.
Naomi and Tanizaki are both out of the running right away, as they'd taken time off in recooperation and catching up in their regular civil lives. Their absence gives him nothing to feel uneasy about.
He's about to analyze Ranpo next, when Kunikida suddenly hands him stacks of papers separated into two and a stapler.
"Here, staple these. You can at least do this while you're daydreaming," he grumbles, before returning to his own work.
Dazai sighs, but complies. He's right after all, something as mindless as stapling can be done while his mind wanders.
Now where was he? Ah yes, an anomaly -
His brain screeches to a halt.
Wait a minute.
Whipping his head towards the other, Dazai stares at Kunikida as he sits back down with a pleased little tilt to his lips, nodding at something in his notebook returning to his work.
It's him! Kunikida Doppo is the culprit!
Dazai sits up straight, abruptly enough that Atsushi fumbles with his pen beside him.
Kunikida, who hasn't blown up at him for his slacking off. Kunikida who hasn't questioned his methods during the last few cases they shared. Kunikida who has seemed to suddenly be more in sync with Dazai's actions and moods, almost like-
A terrible, horrible, no good thought pops into his mind, and Dazai shudders.
It can't be...
But it's not impossible, therefore he can't rule it out.
Thus, he must truly do detective work this day.
"Hey, Kunikida~, how was your joint mission with the mafia's resident chibi a couple weeks ago? I'm sure you both yelled and scolded those thugs to pieces~."
Kunikida doesn't look up from his work, simply frowns and keeps typing. "You shouldn't be so disrespectful to our allies, Dazai. The mission went smoothly, and that's all you need to know."
What's this? Defending Chuuya? And does he sense respect?
Very suspicious.
Though leave it up to that silly hatrack to woo over Dazai's work partner too, ugh.
"Eh? Nothing exciting happened?" he prods, and watches closely.
"No, nothing. Now stop trying to stir gossip, and continue stapling those papers."
If he weren't observing, he might have missed it.
But Dazai was observing, and so noticed the way the other tensed, the subconscious way one hand tucked his current notebook closer to him.
It tells him where he'll find his answers.
Which means he needs the other out of sight for a moment.
"Boo," he whines, then grins cheekily in just the way that he knows itches at the nerves. "Then I suppose I should keep to myself that our lovely mail lady is at the door downstairs with her hands full?"
Kunikida sighs, standing with a grit to his teeth. "Atsushi, make sure you're idiot mentor keeps on task while I take this."
Atsushi jolts like a robot given a command, but he can only offer an unsure grin. "I'll try..."
The moment the door closes, Dazai is out of his chair and snatching up the treasured notebook.
Atsushi flails. "Wha- Dazai! You shouldn't go through Kunkida's stuff like that..." he tries, in vain, of course. When his plea goes ignored, he only sighs, jaded to the office antics.
Dazai's so proud of him.
"It's important, Atsushi!" he insists with a few giggles falling loose, rapidly flipping through the pages. "I need to find out why-"
He stops turning the pages, and the playfulness falls off his face.
The weretiger blinks, confused. "...Dazai?"
Before the inquiry can be answered, the notebook owner himself storms back into the office.
"Dazaiii!! There wasn't anyone at the door-"
Kunikida halts, then yells upon seeing the crime. Stomping over, he swipes at his prize. "Get your hands off my-"
Surprisingly, instead of taking the hit and laughing it off like usual, Dazai dodges the hand and spins out of the way, creating space between them.
"Oi! You-"
"Later, Kunikida," Dazai interrupts, but his voice is low, eyes a storm. Without remorse, he suddenly tears out several pages from the notebook.
Kunikida's screech of agony can be heard from the cafe downstairs.
Before Atsushi can ask what is all going on, his mentor strides towards the door, coat billowing behind him.
"I have a naughty dog to visit~."
The office falls silent as his exit is made, leaving Atsushi with a near catatonic Kunikida, kneeled and mourning before his now violated notebook.
...I don't get paid enough for this, Atsushi laments, before bracing himself to fix the damages left in the wake of a moody mentor.
*
*
*
Dazai strides purposefully down the street, mind brewing like a tempest as he flips through the tight-gripped crinkled papers in his hand.
The Guide to having a Bandaged Bastard for a Partner
The very words have him seething, only further aggravated by the many bullet points beneath.
-When he's lazing around and not doing paperwork, he's likely daydreaming or stuck in his own head. Give him an easy task that keeps his hands busy, this way, he still gets something done, and he won't be as inclined to bother you because hes bored.
The memory of Kunikida handing him papers to staple warps to the front of his mind, and Dazai kicks a pebble hard, the sound of it clanking down a gutter doing little to ease him.
-When he has his headphones in, he's not actually unaware of his surroundings, so don't fall for it.
-If he bumps into you at any time, check that you still have your wallet and credit card. There's a good chance he swiped it.
-If he wanders off during a mission or case, it means one of two things. He's either got a lead he isn't going to tell you about yet, and wants to check it out himself first, or he's bored of it, and is confident you can finish it yourself. If it's the former, he'll meet back up with you later with more information or a solution. If it's the latter, he'll start to wander near rivers beforehand. Keep an eye out for it.
Dazai crosses several streets, and vaguely hears some cars honking at him as he goes, but he pays them no mind.
His hands tremble in their suppressed emotions, as he turns to another page. Some of these are the worst. The absolute worst.
-If you ever stumble across his sake or whiskey bottles, be sure to replace every third one with water. If he decides to drink, by the time he's two bottles in, he won't notice the third isn't alcohol. It'll keep him healthier and help him not have as much of a hangover the next morning.
How dare he?
-He probably still naps sometimes during the day. When this happens, you can tell if he's faking it by the count of his breaths. If he's breathing in for four counts, and out for five, it's real. Anything else and he's faking. When he's really sleeping, leave him be. It means he needs it.
How dare he??
Dazai reaches his destination. He strides through the doors of the building without even looking at the girl at the front desk he typically flirts with for easy access to the apartments. The elevator button is pushed no less than fifteen times by the time it opens for him.
He steps in.
-He really likes crab dishes, so be sure to treat him to some on his birthday.
-He sucks at dressing right for the weather. During the colder seasons, leave an extra scarf and some other warm accessories around, but hide your own. He'll take them to piss you off, not knowing you actually left them for him. Just be sure to remember to scold him about it next time you see him so he doesn't catch on.
The list goes on and on and on-
-When he starts to look disheveled -
-The least itchy brand of bandages are-
-If you notice he skipped lunch-
Finally, Dazai gets to the door.
He knocks, loudly.
He doesn't wait for an answer and barges in.
There, behind the kitchen counter, stands Chuuya Nakahara, expression shifting from confusion to annoyance in a flash.
"Dazai, what the fu-"
Dazai keeps walking, he walks until he's in front of the executive, and then he walks some more.
"Wha-? Oi, what is your problem?!" Chuuya let's himself be backed into his counter, mostly too flabbergasted at the sudden state of events taking place to decide what action to take. Besides, this is not the strangest thing his ex-partner has done...
Dazai holds up the papers still wrinkled and creased in his hands.
Chuuya takes one moment to squint at them before huffing. "Damn it, I told him not to let you find out."
A dark gaze narrows. "You thought I wouldn't notice?"
Chuuya crosses his arms. "Okay, whatever. So I gave Glasses a peptalk in Mackerelology. I still don't get why you came storming in here for that."
Dazai's hands clench harder. "Stupid! Chuuya is stupid! Idiot! Hats for brains!"
"Alright sheesh! Calm down-"
"You don't get to give me away!"
Chuuya blinks, stunned. "...what?"
A pale hand shakes the papers in front of him. "This. All of this information." Dazai hates how his voice sounds like gravel, but his emotions are stuck in his throat like sand at the mouth of a waterfall. " Me. You don't get to just....just give it, me, away. It's not for anyone else."
The other shakes his head, brows pinched above his bright eyes. "What do you mean by 'give you away'? I was just helping the guy out! He barely knew anything! You guys are partners, you should be-"
"See? You're trying to give me away! But I won't let you." Dazai presses closer, eyes an intense swirl. "Because I'm yours, and you're mine."
For a moment, the words bounce between them like a heartbeat.
"We're partners."
Chuuya's next breath is shaky. He closes his eyes to manually calm himself. "Ex-partners."
"Tch!" Dazai withdraws, but only an inch. "You're such a stupid slug. Kunikida is my work partner. Atsushi is my mentee. The president is my boss. Mori is your boss. But none of that matters. Not when it comes to us."
A sigh. "Dazai..."
"Who fought a dragon off and rescued me from poisoned suspension?"
Chuuya opens his eyes to meet his stare.
"Who broke me out of one of the most secure prisons in the world?"
When blue glances away, and those pink lips purse, Dazai closes in again, nudging his forehead onto his.
"Who knows me better than I know myself? Enough to write an entire guide on being by my side."
Another heavy breath. "Alright, alright. I get it." He exhales. "Stop. That's enough."
Gently, gloved hands push against broad shoulders to back the other away. To put some space between them so he can breathe without swallowing those sweet (dangerous) words like nectar.
When adequately distanced, Chuuya huffs, looking up into that steady stare. His eyes flicker across a handsome face, noticing the ruffled hair, the downturn of his lips, the rise to his shoulders.
"...shit, you really are upset by this, huh."
Dazai doesn't respond, only clenches his teeth a little bit more.
Upset. Yes, that's what he is. Beneath the anger that carried him here, he realizes there is an underlying sense of hurt swimming just beneath. Perhaps, rather pathetically even, a dose of panic that Chuuya would even think to replace him, or be replaced.
"Look," Chuuya runs a hand through his hair, and Dazai only then realizes the other is missing his usual hat, and is dressed down in casual clothes instead of his work ones. It's been awhile since he's seen the other without his sleek armor on. It makes the moment just that bit more intimate.
"I'm sorry, okay? I didn't think something like this would actually upset you." He seems to flounder for a moment, trying to find the right words. "I just thought..."
"Thought what?" Dazai prods.
"I thought it would be good for you, okay?" Chuuya admits, looking like he'd rather have bit off his own tongue. His arms crossed like a physical shield, he points his stare somewhere off to the left. "Yeah, I might be there for you when the city is about to go up in flames, or some other genius is trying to purge us all and play God, or hell, when Cthulhu is awake enough to make a deal with a stupid American. But..."
His arms fall from their makeshift shield, as his hands begin gesticulating around. Blue fire swings forward with his gaze.
"But what about between it all? The days when everything is normal, but your brain decides to go haywire and you don't sleep for days? Who's going to notice your eyes are like a dead fish and take you to the arcade to cheer you up? Or pack extra in their lunch and pretend to let you steal some?"
Chuuya points a finger into the others chest none too gently. "Someone has to keep up with you, make sure you don't end up floating down the river too far."
Dazai smirks. "Oh ho? Chuuya cares about me so much?"
The mafioso glares. "That was pretty obvious by now, dumbass."
He falters in the face of his sincerity, before rallying his annoyance to the surface once more, not one to give up the last word. "Well, how would Chuuya have liked it if I wrote everything I know about him and gave it to someone? Hmm?"
Chuuya groans. "I already apologized, damnit! I won't do it again."
Dazai narrows his eyes. "I don't forgive you! I still can't believe you went and told Kunikida everything!"
A chuff. "I didn't tell him everything, you're over exaggerating!"
"Oh yeah? Then what didn't you tell him, slug?"
Chuuya doesn't back down. "I didn't tell him you're scared of dogs."
"I'm not scared! I just hate the mangy things."
"Uh huh, right. I didn't tell him you sleep better if the room is completely dark."
"Well, that's -"
"I didn't tell him," Chuuya steps closer, voice lowering, a hand raising to lightly brush against a hidden ear. "That your ears and neck are sensitive."
Dazai holds his breath against the featherlight touch, unwilling to let loose the gasp that had so wanted to escape. He glares pettily as the other steps back, a smug grin on his face.
"Chuuya's playing dirty."
The executive sneers. "A taste of your own medicine then."
Before getting a response, Chuuya turns away, opening up a cupboard and taking out a glass. Dazai mentally snickers (see; coos) at how he has to go on his toes to do so.
"Besides," Chuuya continues. "There's some things I couldn't explain or describe how to do even if I wanted to.
"Oh?" Dazai pitches. "Like what, slug?"
Chuuya pauses, stare going vacant on the paper towels on his counter. "Well, like how I seem to sense when you're in, or rather making, trouble."
"Mhm?"
"Or how I seem to have built up some kind of mackerel-bastard compass that makes it easy to find you."
"Yeah?"
"Yeah," Chuuya hums absent mindedly. "Oh, and knowing what you're planning when you run off without telling anyone. I still can't believe you had everyone thinking you were working with-," he turns around, only to find the tall detective has come up right behind him while he'd been spacing out.
He sucks in a breath, head tilting up to look at his face.
"...Shibusawa," he finishes, delayed.
His focus is lost from what he was saying though. Instead, it is entirely distracted by the man once again looming before him.
"...stop."
Dazai smiles. "Stop what?"
"Looking at me... like that."
The smiles grows, his head tilting in a way that leaves his bangs hanging down his forehead prettily. "Like what?"
Fond is how Chuuya would describe it. Devastatingly fond. Warm. Soft. Adoring.
Terrible, terrible words that should never be used for them. Not when they're both born of blood and bullets. And especially not when they stand at opposite sides of night and day, light and dark.
Chuuya isn't fragile, but he's not sure how he'd react if he let himself love and lose anymore than he has in life. Loving a ticking time bomb like Dazai is asking for the shards to embed in your skin. Or perhaps Chuuya is the bomb, and Dazai a sinking ship that will go under the moment a storm too large to weather arrives.
"Chuuya," is said, softly and secretly between them. It brings him back to the present, back to that gaze. "I don't need anyone else to understand me. You and I, Double Black, Twin Dark. We go beyond light and dark, mafia and detective."
"Dazai-"
"Chuuya," Dazai presses the name, insistent. And damn the hands that cradle his face like he's something precious, and not a monster cooked up in a lab. "You can't give me away."
An open and honest and vulnerable Dazai is before him, something only one other dead man has witnessed.
Chuuya's eyes search, frantic, all over his face. He searches and searches for deceit, for humor, for anything that would disrupt the hope springing in his heart.
He sucks in a sharp breath, eyes closing and hands rising to cover the others wrists where they rest by his chin.
"Okay," he exhales. "Okay. You're mine."
Dazai's thumb glides across his jaw. "I'm yours."
"You're mine," he says, more confidently. His eyes open, blazing. "You're my partner."
"And you're mine," Dazai echoes, feeling more alive than he can ever remember. "My dog, my chibi, my hatrack~."
Chuuya pinches the inside of his wrist, earning a pitchy 'ow!' that he ignores. "Oi, don't ruin it."
Dazai chuckles, but it comes out more of a twitterpated sigh. "My partner."
Wanting to catch the words in his mouth and keep them forever, Chuuya surges upwards to claim them.
In some ways, the kiss feels like an inevitably, and in others, an impossible crazy dream come to life.
'You can't give me away', he'd said.
A very Dazai remark, the words the tip of the iceberg to that which remains unsaid but understood.
Even if you try to get rid of me, even if I leave sometimes. It's you I come back to. Don't let others have me. It's you I want.
*
*
*
"Hey Chuuya, what's one other thing you didn't put in the guide?"
"Why?"
"I'm curious!"
"Tch, fine. Let me think."
"Hmm?"
"I guess, one other thing I didn't say is...don't be afraid of how No Longer Human feels. It can be startling at first, but if you remain calm and actually focus on the sensation instead of the absence of your ability, it's actually quite soothing."
"..."
".....what? Ack! Hey, stop smothering me! You-"
"Ahhh, I can't help it. My partner is the best!"
"Eck! You're partner can't breathe!!"
"Details, details~!"
*
*
*
-The End-