'Go ahead, Chuuya. ' It 's a soft drag of murmured words. 'Kiss me if you want. '

Chuuya 's eyes fly open, his hand loosening around Dazai 's neck because that 's not '

The bastard kicks out his thigh and reverses their positions within the blink of an eye. The knife gets slapped out of Chuuya 's hand. Both his arms get pinned to the mat next to his head. Dazai looms above him, his shin bracketing Chuuya 's legs to keep him from kicking out. A predatory smirk dances on his lips.

But instead of the sardonic remark that Chuuya prepares himself for, Dazai tips his gaze upwards and clicks his tongue. 'Easy, boys. Just a sparring match between friends. ' Chuuya blinks; he didn 't even notice that some of the mafiosi had drawn weapons and aimed them at him. Probably because of the knife. Dazai 's eye travels back down to meet Chuuya 's. 'Isn 't that right? '

'Sure, ' Chuuya hisses through clenched teeth, 'if that makes you feel better. '

Dazai is so close Chuuya can feel his quiet chuckle fan against his cheek, even more, so his distinct smell that Chuuya didn 't even realize he had memorized until the scent of sandalwood and cedar and his cologne mixed with sweat rolls over him in a familiar, heady wave. The way Dazai drags his gaze over Chuuya with so much weight and intent, undressing him with one eye alone, only makes Chuuya spiral harder, his heart slamming a wild beat inside his ribcage until he feels dizzy with it.

'Don 't worry. I can teach you how to stop falling for emotional taunts, and then ' then you will be invincible. '

His mouth is dry when he swallows the knot in his throat and forces himself to relax, to stop struggling against Dazai 's hold ' because apparently there are muscles under the bandages ' and go pliant and soft instead. 'Really? ' He feels Dazai 's thumb stroke over the skin on his wrist, eliciting a breathless shiver. 'You 'll teach me? '

'Yeah. ' Chuuya 's chest is heavily rising and falling with each breath. 'I want to. ' And as soon as the last word leaves his lips, he moves. All it takes to cross the distance between them is to lift his chin ever so slightly and brush his mouth against Dazai 's. It 's not a kiss, not when their lips touch but don 't linger. But it is an invitation. And Dazai seems all too happy to accept it.

He catches Chuuya 's bottom lip and actually kisses him this time, slowly at first, one shared breath dragging on for an eternity that never plans to end, then with a fever and an urgency that 's infectious, bleeding over into Chuuya and making his head spin with it. Hands are still pinning him to the ground, the places where their skin touches burning and forcing him to just take it. Chuuya does. He takes every dizzying slam of his heart, every exhale, and every bruising slide of lips, and he lets them set his soul ablaze, surging into every kiss like a drug addict trying to get his next fix.

Dazai 's head tilts, and the change of angle adds a heated, toe-curling edge to it, dragging out a ragged noise from the back of Chuuya 's throat that makes his lips part. The fingers around his wrist curl tighter. Chuuya 's stomach bottoms out, almost painful in its intensity, and then it flutters some more when Dazai gives him a tease of his tongue.

'Chuuya. '

Gasping breathlessly, Chuuya arches into him, his legs curving around the thighs that were pinning him down just now. Above him, Dazai gets heavier. His weight presses down and molds their bodies together until Chuuya feels possessed underneath him. Until he feels like he can lean into the things that feel good and just let go without having to worry about the consequences because he knows Dazai will catch him.

'

Chuuya. '

With a heaving chest, Chuuya draws back. Confused, because there is someone saying his name and he doesn 't understand where it 's coming from. He glances around looking for it but instead of finding the source of the voice, he sees something else. His friends. His family. The sheep. Yuan. Shirase. Luca. And they are all staring at him, the disappointment glaringly obvious in their eyes.

He goes rigid with shame.

They

saw

him. They all saw him and what he did. And the worst thing is that for a few minutes, Chuuya forgot; he completely forgot about his promise to them, about what he 's supposed to do, about Dazai and what he did to them.

He just forgot.

And now they know.

'Chuuya! '

His head snaps to the side, trying to find who the fuck is calling him and '

***

The sensation of shockingly cold fingers makes him jerk awake.

'Chuuya is even trying to punch me in his sleep. How typical. '

His eyes fly open to the sight of Dazai, sitting on the edge of his bed and gripping his wrist with an amused grin on his face.

'Ah, there you go. Finally. Good morning sleeping beauty. '

'Wha ' ' Chuuya blinks furiously and suddenly realizes that Dazai is here, in his bedroom, while he was sleeping and having a dream about ' about '

An undignified noise rips out of the back of his throat as he yanks himself out of Dazai 's grasp and scoots back on the bed to glare at him. 'What the hell, Dazai?! '

'I 'm here to steal you for a very important mission. '

'I don 't care! What are you doing in my bedroom?! '

'Well, you weren 't answering any of my calls. '

'So, you just came here and stared at me while I 'm sleeping like a fucking creep?! '

'I did ring the bell. About twenty times. ' Getting to his feet, Dazai flaps his hands through the air. 'Don 't worry, Chuuya. You didn 't say anything embarrassing in your sleep. I promise. '

But the words only bring back memories ' painfully vivid memories of the dream Chuuya was having mere

seconds

before '

Oh god, did he say something? Did Dazai hear him say something?

'You will still have the entire day to yell at me, but now you should really try to get up, ' Dazai says and claps his hands together. 'Hop, hop, Chuuya. It 's a matter of life and death. '

Chuuya hisses out a breath but slips out of bed to talk to his bathroom and let the door bang shut after him. Seriously, who does he think he is, just barging in here like that, huh? Not a single ounce of respect for privacy. None! He washes his face and brushes his teeth with the fury of a thousand blazing suns powering him on. He 's almost done when his eyes flicker down and sees the glaringly obvious morning wood waiting to be noticed.

Completely normal

, he tells himself even as his fingers curl into tight fists.

Nothing to do with that dream he had. Nope. Nothing.

And maybe if he feels his gut twitch when a particularly vivid image of someone 's body pressing him down and rolling against him flashes through him, that 's totally normal too. Just his body doing body things.

Chuuya isn 't masochistic enough to start jerking off now while

he

is in the room next door, and apparently, there is not enough time to just wait for it to go down either, so he does what everyone with the ability to manipulate gravity would do: he decreases the blood flow to his dick until there are no more hard-ons and no more intrusive

thoughts.

The first works perfectly ' sharing sleeping spaces with a bunch of other kids during puberty made Chuuya creative, the latter ' not so much.

Fingers twisting around the doorknob, he thinks that it 's still better than facing Dazai with a raging hard-on while wearing only boxer briefs.

When he comes out, his brows tug into a frown. The distracting cocktail of sleep and hypertensive anger hijacked his mind up until now, so he can 't tell whether he somehow missed the fact that Dazai is dressed completely differently or whether the change happened while he was in the bathroom.

Dazai nods at a pile of clothes on the bed. 'Get dressed. '

'What exactly are we doing? ' Chuuya demands to know as he inspects his outfit. It looks like some kind of tactical gear. The same thing Dazai is wearing right now.

'There 's a bomb threat in the city that we need to take care of. '

Chuuya slowly looks at him. 'We do? '

Dazai meets his gaze with a smoldering smile. 'Of course, we do, Chuuya. Do you want hundreds of people to die? '

'Obviously not. Aren 't there special task forces for that, though? What does the port mafia have to do with it? ' Then he pauses. 'Wait, is it the mafia 's bomb? ' It elicits a fuzzy, humming noise from Dazai that makes Chuuya 's head snap back to him. 'Seriously? '

'Let 's just say that it will look like it if we don 't reverse situations now. Don 't worry; you will understand soon enough. '

After getting little to no information out of that man once again, Chuuya sighs and puts on the pants. They 're wide but heavy and surprisingly fitting. 'Wouldn 't it be just easier to tell me now? '

'I like to build up suspense. '

'I think you just like to hold all the cards in the room. '

Next is a tight matching black shirt.

'Less thinking, Chuuya, and more dressing. '

When he sweeps another glance at Dazai, Chuuya is miffed to be reminded again that Dazai has arms. Well-defined arms. With lean muscles and shit. Something that isn 't visible under all the layers he usually wears, but that is hard to miss now ' or when he is pinning someone down with the same arms.

Chuuya averts his gaze before Dazai can catch him ' the memory of being woken up by him still way too fresh. And that

dream

. That fucking dream. Instead, he focuses on figuring out how to properly secure the plate carrier, what with all the straps, fumbling around with them until Dazai suddenly shoves his hands away and takes over. His fingers are as steady as mountains when they secure everything into place.

His proximity, on the other hand, is stifling. It makes even a room as big as Chuuya 's feel small and crammed because it keeps reminding him of what he did, what

they

did, together, when they were this fucking close in the dream.

'Here, ' Dazai says and scans his chest before nodding in approval, thankfully oblivious to Chuuya 's struggles. 'Looks good. '

Grateful to be able to step away, he locates the boots and slips into them. 'I 'm ready, ' he announces, spinning on his heels with his hands on his hips, only for Dazai to waggle some kind of holster in his hand and sink to one knee in front of him. Chuuya 's throat goes dry. But Dazai is unbothered, looping the holster around his thigh and humming rhythmically under his breath.

'Too tight? '

'No. ' Chuuya can barely hear his own voice over the pounding of his heart. ' 's fine. '

How many times did he listen to all the rumors about the terrible and dreadful boss of the port mafia? How many times did he swear to ruin him someday mid-battle? How many times did he see people kneel before Dazai? And now, Dazai is here, kneeling in front of him instead. Like it holds no significance at all.

Dazai 's eye lifts and meets his gaze, one hand temporarily resting on his thigh. Not for the first time in his life, Chuuya wonders if perhaps mind-reading is the secret ability that he has been hiding all this time. It certainly would explain how Dazai knows so much and why he looks at Chuuya like he knows exactly what is going through his head.

If you are somehow able to hear this, know that I am going to smash you to pieces,

Chuuya thinks, just to test his theory.

And because he probably needs something more shocking:

I am going to betray you someday.

But even this, as absurd as it sounds, is probably not enough. Not for someone like Dazai.

I had a dream about kissing you.

Chuuya 's pulse drums like a war song in his ears.

And I liked it. I liked it a lot.

The only thing Dazai does is exhaling softly before rising back to his full height, still giving Chuuya his undivided attention. 'Now Chuuya is ready. '

There is no way Dazai would know about the dream and not bring it up. Right? So no mind-reading ability. Though that conclusion would be more relieving if Chuuya didn 't know that Dazai doesn 't need the ability to read people like open books anyway.

Chuuya nods then catches a glimpse of himself in his mirror and scours his nightstand for hair ties as Dazai walks ahead. Sleeping with his hair open is fine, but it becomes a pain in the ass when he 's physically active ' something that always makes Yuan gently remind him that a pair of scissors could easily fix the problem, and something that he always declines, no matter how annoying it gets. Following Dazai through his apartment, he pulls it up into a high ponytail.

Waiting for the elevator, he feels Dazai 's gaze follow his hands moving. It makes his fingers uncharacteristically clumsy, almost losing the hair tie tangled around them before the doors slide open and save him that embarrassment.

The electrical silence in the four walls around them charges Chuuya 's thoughts with even more bouncing energy.

This is strange. He has become used to spend hours in the office whether it 's to work on his writing and reading, or to listen to Dazai talk about the way he is doing things. But now they are venturing outside. To diffuse a fucking bomb, apparently. And it doesn 't make any sense. Why would the head of the port mafia willingly subject himself to so much danger?

The elevator rides straight down to the underground carpark. The doors glide open to reveal a sleek-black van waiting for them, its engine already running.

Dazai opens the doors and lets Chuuya hop in first before climbing in himself and sliding them shut.

'How are you guys fairing on this fine morning? ' That sounds and looks a lot like Albatross. 'Ready to diffuse some bombs? Haha, not this one, though. I might be a bomb, but I 'm not diffusible. '

Sighing, Chuuya scrubs a hand over his face.

'Okay, tough audience. Rough night, Chuuya-kun? '

'Just a rough morning, ' Dazai decides to answer, but at least his voice is 60% less explosive cheerfulness and 50% more amused silk. 'Chuuya, here have something sweet. '

'What? '

'Breakfast on the road. Working on an empty stomach isn 't good. '

Chuuya scowls at the box of muffins Dazai is trying to offer him. 'I don 't want anything sweet from you. '

Dazai hums in reply and grabs another box. 'Something savory then? Okonomiyaki. '

Chuuya wants to deny it yet again, but his stomach beats him to it ' with an inhumanely, loud growl. With no other choice, he begrudgingly accepts the box. 'Are you going to finally tell me what the hell we 're doing here, or am I only allowed to know when it 's already over? ' he asks after swallowing down a few bites. It 's good, but despite the hunger, his stomach feels oddly full already. Of what, he doesn 't know.

'Someone sent a letter saying there is a bomb that could blow up a good portion of Yokohama if it 's not disabled in time. ' Dazai shrugs and pulls his mouth into a small, false pout. 'Now half of the city is running around and trying to find it before it 's too late. '

Then he pauses, looking at Chuuya. It makes him raise his brows. Clearly, he 's supposed to work for every bit of information. 'Okay. Why would you even give people the chance to stop the bomb by sending a stupid letter? ' Except the answer is obvious, especially when he remembers what Dazai told him:

but it will look like it if we don 't reverse situations.

'They want people to know about it to ' frame the mafia? '

'Mm, ' Dazai confirms with a hum. 'Pretty rude, don 't you agree? '

Chuuya snorts. 'More like, pretty dumb. It 's the damn mafia. Why try to frame a bunch of criminals as ' criminals? '

'Oi, ' Albatross suddenly butts in. 'After everything we 've been through together, that 's all we are to you? '

'You pointed a gun at my face and pretended to pull the trigger, ' Chuuya replies dryly. 'So, uh, yeah? '

'That was not my idea! I was just following orders! '

Dazai 's lips rise. 'While you 're not exactly wrong, you 're also missing some things. If the city only viewed the port mafia as a bunch of criminals, as you say, we would long be gone. But we aren 't because we 're also useful. Strong. Powerful. Intimidating. We 're like a powered-up corrupt military that every country denies to have. '

'Fine, ' Chuuya relents, 'useful criminals then. And now, someone is trying to take that away from us. You know who? '

A nod.

'Shigeho Kumazawa. A lower-level grunt that joined the mafia last year. '

Now there is no logical reason why a grunt would all of a sudden turn traitor, especially not on this scale. Unless ' 'He was a spy? '

'Good, ' Dazai praises softly. Chuuya wishes he had anywhere to look but at him. As it is, there are only the two of them here, and unless he wants to spend the ride staring at the back of Albatross ' head, Dazai and his stupid face it is. 'He was indeed. '

'And you knew all along. ' Because that 's just a given by now. Dazai always knows. 'So why didn 't you stop him? '

'Because he has been working for another organization this entire time, and several people to interrogate are better than one. '

'You think the others will show up? '

'They wasted so much effort and time to create this spectacle, ' Dazai says and looks off into the distance. His hair is usually a neat mess, but today it looks especially tousled, strands of hair sticking up here and there, yet all they do is make him look more handsome. And he probably

knows

it, or he wouldn 't be offering Chuuya such a show. 'They will either try to make sure it works out, not leaving it in the hands of fate or useless underlings, or they simply want to watch it unfold from up-close. But they will be there. '

Chuuya finally puts his box away. 'So what exactly do you want us to do? Do we know where the bomb is? '

'Nope. '

'Huh? Then where are we going? '

As if on cue, the car comes to a smooth halt. Albatross cuts the engine. Chuuya looks over his shoulder to glance out of the window, coming face to face with a reddish-brown brick building.

They must be somewhere in Naka-Ku, he notes to himself. The ward is pretty much the opposite of Suribachi city: snobby, wealthy residential areas and hosting the city hall and the headquarters of the prefectural government. The only times Chuuya ever found himself here was when he needed a high-rise building and an hour alone to think.

'Do you know who the police turn to when they 're in over their head? '

'You? '

Dazai 's mouth twitches. 'That 's when shit is really hitting the fan. Before that. '

'I 'm guessing whoever is in that building. '

'Have you ever heard of

the armed detective agency?

'

'Ah, so that 's where their office is, ' Chuuya concludes out loud before huffing out a breath. 'Obviously, I 've heard of them. Don 't tell me you want to work with them? '

'Neh, not today. I just had one of our command units engage in battle with one of their detectives over a man who cost us lots of money. Too soon. '

Chuuya raises his brows.

With a loud, content sigh, Dazai throws his arms behind his back and stretches out his legs, forcing Chuuya to scoot out of the way if he doesn 't want his stupid boots kicking him in the balls. 'We 're letting them do all the work of figuring out the location of the bomb while we sit back and wait. '

'So ' we have to wait until

they

find the bomb?! '

'Uh-uh. '

'What if they fail? '

'They won 't. '

'How would you know? '

'You might not like them, Chuuya, but same as us, there is a reason why their organization exists. They 've got a couple of smart heads working there. '

'Then why did you wake me up acting like we were out of time when we have plenty of it?! '

Dazai yawns. 'They could start moving any second now. Better to be early than late. '

Chuuya wants to tell him in just how many different ways he would bash his face against the asphalt if so many things weren 't at stake, but by now, he knows better than to feed Dazai 's ego with even more attention. So he resigns himself to being cramped into four walls with him ' and with Albatross, who, however, is staring at his phone ' by folding his arms over his chest and staring holes at the wall next to Dazai 's head.

But doing nothing has always been hard for him, not when his body, brain, and his ability always demand to be active, which is probably why his eyes end up drifting. To faces. To faces that look blissfully relaxed across from him. Chuuya wonders whether it 's Dazai 's gruesome sleeping habits that allow him to shut off his brain and sink into nothingness, even while he 's in a car, waiting to begin an exciting, dangerous mission, or whether it 's simply one of his many, many talents. Probably both.

Unfortunately, the word

talent

triggers another memory of that damn dream again, and suddenly Chuuya is thinking about other talents Dazai might have. He seemed to be very talented with his mouth. Knew exactly how to use it. It wasn 't real, though, just a series of images that his own head cooked up for some inexplicable reason. Maybe Dazai is an awful kisser in reality. Maybe he 's that kind of person that pecks you like a fucking chicken instead of kissing you. Or maybe he uses too much tongue without any invitation. That seems plausible, right?

Except Chuuya suddenly remembers that Dazai does

not

. During their 'wedding ' ceremony, he expected all of these things, yet all Dazai did was kiss the corner of his mouth as his hand covered both of their faces. It feels so long ago now, even though it 's been only one month, but the realization that they already shared a kiss once, no matter how perfunctory and dry, feels shockingly staggering.

Across from him, Dazai 's one eye flutters open and squints at him.

Caught in the act of staring ' blatant, hard staring ' Chuuya makes a last-minute decision and furrows his brows into a glare, not looking away. Because looking away would mean running and running from someone like Dazai is admitting defeat. No, if he just pretends to have been glaring at him all this time instead of ' nevermind ' if Dazai sees him glaring, that 's nothing new or worth his attention. That 's just ordinary.

Dazai stares back at him for a few moments, then closes his eyes again. Chuuya 's chest sags with relief.

'Oi, Chuuya, ' Albatross asks, breaking the silence that has settled over the three of them. 'Can I ask you a question? '

Grateful to have something else to focus on, Chuuya glances at their driver. 'What? '

'That pink-haired chick that always hangs around with you. She your girlfriend? ' Before Chuuya can answer, Albatross spins around, looking at Dazai, back at Chuuya, and then scratching his head. 'Boss, I can ask that, right? Or is the whole marriage thing serious? Are you two...? '

To Chuuya 's horror, Dazai offers a half-shrug and says, 'I don 't know. Are we, Chuuya? '

'We aren 't

anything

, ' Chuuya snaps, heart, slamming wildly inside his chest, before his glower lands on Albatross. 'It was a contract and an allyship, nothing more than that. Or do I look like I 'm actually married to that guy?! '

Albatross lifts his hands in defense. 'Look, I don 't know what goes on behind closed doors. '

'Nothing goes on behind closed doors! '

'Okay, I 'm sorry! '

'There you have your answer, ' Dazai butts in lazily, his eyes still closed. 'So go ahead. Ask. '

'So that chick ' '

'Yuan 's not my girlfriend either, ' Chuuya mutters in exasperation.

'And that 's ' bad? ' Albatross says slowly.

'Hah? '

'I mean, is that a bad thing? Do you want her to be? '

'What? No. We 're just friends. '

'Really? It 's okay if there 's more than that, you know. You can tell me. Us. I 'm a wonderful wingman, I 'll have you know. '

'There isn 't more than that, so no thanks. Why are you even asking? '

Albatross holds his gaze for a moment, eyes narrowed as if he is contemplating something before he taps his finger against the steering wheel and says, 'because I need to get laid. '

Chuuya blinks.

'Like yesterday, ' he adds.

'With me? Are you ' hitting on me? '

Not really sure what to say here, Chuuya 's eyes dart to the side only to see that Dazai has deemed this conversation interesting enough to follow with his eye open, an amused smile on his lips.

'What? ' Albatross asks. 'I meant your friend. Yuan. I was trying to figure out if she is single. ' Then his head cocks, though. 'Why? Are you offering? Because I 'm not picky. And you 're pretty ' ' He trails off to look back at Dazai again. 'Boss, that still okay? '

Dazai hums. 'Ask Chuuya. '

'You 're pretty hot, ' Albatross continues casually, 'but I figured I 'd probably stay in my territory and not ' ' He makes some kind of hand gesture. '... you know, but hey, if it 's okay with everyone here!

Are

you offering? '

Chuuya stares at him for a few moments, speechless, before exclaiming, 'no?! '

'Dang. ' Albatross doesn 't look too upset about it, though. 'So Yuan. She single then? '

'Ask her yourself if you want to know, ' he mutters. 'I 'm not some kind of pimp. '

'Hey, I was just trying to be respectful in case she 's already seeing anyone. That 's not a crime, is it? '

Exhaling, Chuuya lets his eyes fall shut, too. 'It 's not, but you should talk to her yourself anyway. I don 't know whether she has time to think about relationships right now. '

'Who said anything about relationships? I just need to unwind, ' Albatross says and lets out a whiny groan. 'The thing they never tell you about the mafia is that fucking civilians is always too risky, so you 're forced to only depend on the people you work with. Co-workers and hookers, that 's all. It might seem much, but it isn 't! It really isn 't! What did the real world taste like before you joined, Chuuya? '

'Huh? '

'You had all the options in the world until of late. Did you use it to its full advantage? '

Chuuya looks at him flatly. 'I was kind of busy looking after my people to go around fucking everyone in sight. '

'So, what ' ' Albatross blinks at him with wide eyes. 'Nothing? Not even ' a little ' fun? '

'Not

nothing

, ' Chuuya feels the need to correct because even though there is nothing wrong with being a virgin,

he

isn 't one. 'I had ' fun. Just not all the time. '

'With Yuan? '

'No! I fucking told you it 's not like that! '

'Sorry, sorry. ' Chuuya thinks Albatross is finally satisfied enough to drop the topic, but he is wrong. So wrong. 'Let me guess, with one of the other two then. Nothing like blowing off some steam with a friend! That silver-haired dude or the one with a military cut? What are their names? '

'Not telling you. '

'Ah, so I

am

getting warmer! Boss, do you know their names? '

'I would feel safer working with Chuuya without risking his wrath. '

Chuuya rolls his eyes. 'How do you even know so much? '

'Well, duh. How many years did you sheep people make my job unnecessarily difficult? Always know thy enemy and all that. '

'Since we 're no longer enemies, ' Chuuya lies shamelessly, 'how about you stick your nose out of business that doesn 't concern you? '

'But I 'm bored, ' Albatross whines, miserably hugging his seat. 'And sex-deprived. Anyways, my guess is on the silver-haired one. He looks somewhat friendly. The other one just looks mad all the time. Even at you, Chuuya, so I don 't know about that one. Unless it was hate-sex? That would work. '

Chuuya makes a mistake. He looks away. Even worse than that, his eyes flicker to Dazai, and that one second of eye contact is enough to reveal the answer to that question. To everyone inside the car.

'Oh, shit. Really? ' Albatross asks.

That 's when Dazai opens his mouth, but to Chuuya 's surprise, it 's not to comment on the current topic. 'Have you already arranged the transportation for the arms shipment from the east tomorrow? '

'Tomorrow? ' Albatross 's brows tug into a frown. 'I thought it 's next week? '

'It 's tomorrow, ' Dazai answers. 'Get to it before you botch an entire deal. ' His tone isn 't cruel, per se, but it 's still worlds away from the one that Chuuya has gotten used to. Amused, a little impish, strangely soft, and nostalgic.

While the question is innocent enough on the surface to distract Albatross, it 's not subtle enough either to fool Chuuya, not after all the days he spent with the man studying his ways. Dazai did that on purpose. To change the conversation. To let Chuuya and his past sex and love life on the hook. The only thing Chuuya doesn 't know is whether he did it out of pity, boredom or something entirely else.

Chuuya doesn 't know how to

feel

about it either. Talking about Luca and the disastrous way their relationship ended isn 't particularly enjoyable, but he doesn 't need Dazai to rescue him from it. He doesn 't need anything from Dazai except the truth ' and that 's the one thing that Dazai refuses to give him.

If Dazai expects anything like gratitude from him, he doesn 't let it show. He doesn 't even bother to look at Chuuya or in his direction, one eye shut again and head slightly tipped up as he sits and waits patiently.

So much for something else to focus on

, Chuuya thinks to himself. If his only choices are to think about that dream and Dazai and his tongue in Chuuya 's mouth, or thinking about Luca and how the same guy who once swore he would do anything to get another chance now sees him as some inherently evil monster, then he would prefer to let the bomb take him out.

He decides to mull over something useful instead. Dazai 's weak spot. His flaw. The thing that Chuuya can exchange to get answers about himself, the sheep, about everything. He goes over everything he has already learned about Dazai. His sleeping schedule. His coke habit. His relationship to Gin and Albatross. Jiji. His way of steering the port mafia: making moves while always being ten steps ahead already, using selective honesty to his advantage, knowing

everything,

using rumors and images to keep enemies in check, being everywhere even though he is supposedly always hiding in his impenetrable fortress, losing battles to win even bigger wars.

There is no ' pattern to him. No sense of logic or system, not really. One minute he is taking a nap on the couch with Chuuya in the same room, the next, he is stealing back USB drives that Chuuya stole from him first.

Trying to get a hold of something solid from Dazai is like trying to keep water in your palms. You can 't. He just slips through your fingers.

'You 're thinking. ' Chuuya 's eyes lift to look at Dazai, but he 's still unmoving. It was clearly his voice, though. 'Stop it. '

'I can do whatever I want, ' he mutters under his breath.

'Okay. But you 're also staring. '

'Hah?! No, I 'm not. ' Not anymore. Or is he? 'Your eye 's closed, so how would you even know? '

Dazai 's chest rises with an inhale. 'I just do. '

'You 're full of shit is what you are. '

'You know when you 're sleeping but feel like someone is watching you, so you open your eyes and find a spider on the ceiling? You 're my spider. '

Chuuya is about to snap out another counter-argument when several high-pitched

beeps

chime through the car.

'Oi, ' Albatross says, tossing his phone to the side and starting the engine, 'they 're moving. Let 's go! '

The car comes to life with a motoric hum. Now that they 're moving, the tension that has bottled up in Chuuya 's neck and shoulders begins to seep out with each breath that leaves him. Finally.

Dazai opens his eye and lazily stretches himself before casting a glance at the road. 'Albatross. '

'They look to be heading towards ' the port right now. '

He can tell that just by following their route? Impressive for such a windbag.

'The port, ' Dazai repeats and then nods like it makes total sense. 'Planting a bomb near petrochemical containers will do the trick, I guess. '

Petrochemical containers ' he means the oil storage facility. Being one of Japan 's most distinguished port cities, Yokohama is a prominent place for ship fuel transport. A vast area of the bay coast is dedicated to storing oil and natural gas. Not to mention, the combine is surrounded by chemical processing plants for crude oil, iron, and steel, along with an oil refinery plant which altogether powers much of Japan 's most notable industries.

If a bomb were to go off nearby '

He guesses?

It could cost thousands of lives and work places. It could cripple the city 's industry for months, years even.

'Are you sure those agency detectives are capable enough for this job? ' Chuuya asks him.

Dazai flashes him a smoldering smirk. 'Well, if they aren 't, we 're still there to clean it up, right? Speaking of ' how much can you do with your ability? Think stopping a bomb from exploding is in it? '

Chuuya swallows. Is it? He 'd have to control

particles

but '

The car suddenly comes to a screeching halt, making his organs flop about in his stomach.

'They just did a complete 180, ' Albatross shouts. 'You think they know we 're following them? '

'We 'll risk that. Don 't lose them, ' Dazai replies and fishes out a radio out of his pocket, turning it one with his thumb as Albatross turns around in the middle of the road and floors it. Static noise greets them, but it quickly switches to what sounds like someone 's communication line:

'-- it will be difficult to move the device because of the set timer. '

'How long to disarm it? '

'Hours. Longer than we have. '

'Shit. '

'Have you started evacuating the nearby residents? You have to hurry before this thing blows. '

'We 're on it. '

Dazai turns it off again, tossing one leg over the other while his fingers tap a steady rhythm against his knee. His one eye squints.

He 's thinking.

It 's a rare sight. Usually, he doesn 't need to because he already saw it coming weeks ago, but now Chuuya can see ideas and possibilities swirling around in his head like tiny fireflies. It makes him look oddly human.

'They must have found another way to disarm it. That 's why they turned around, ' he eventually concludes.

'How in the world do you diffuse a bomb that 's kilometers away? ' Albatross questions, a manic pitch to his voice.

'With a stop signal. If you have a transmitter, you can send a stop signal. '

'Ah, of course! I have no idea what you 're talking about, but it sounds logical! '

Chuuya scrubs a hand over his face. 'I would have rather taken my chance with my ability. '

'Are you 100% sure you could have stopped it without getting blown to pieces in the process? ' Dazai asks.

'No, but ' '

'Then taking this chance is better. '

'It 's one life over hundreds. '

'If you died, you wouldn 't stop the bomb, so everyone else would die, too. It 's your life

and

hundreds of others over hundreds of others. '

The subtle but sudden firmness of Dazai 's voice makes Chuuya press his lips together. Is it just a matter of numbers, or is it something else, something that has to do with Chuuya 's purpose in his long game?

Asking would be useless.

They race through the mountains, following the agency 's car from a safe distance until they eventually reach a pretty isolated area, the overgrown shrubbery here throwing shadows across the entire road outside the tinted windows.

Stopping in front of an iron door in the very face of the mountain itself, Albatross lets out a whistle. 'The hell is this place? '

'The former national defense force, ' Chuuya and Dazai reply at the same time.

Dazai turns to him, cocking his head.

'What? ' Chuuya huffs. 'You 're not the only one around here who knows things. ' Years ago, when he was desperately searching for anything that could tell him what happened to him when he was young, he spent a lot of time digging through the history of abilities. The war was an inevitable part of it. And this right here is a relic of said war. It 's an entrance to a bomb shelter and an old military installation of the former national defense force.

The sound of gunshots cuts his thoughts short, followed by an explosive burst of lights from the inside.

'Aww, a flash grenade, ' Dazai murmurs. 'It 's like watching our own people. ' That playful expression of his doesn 't linger for long, though. He quickly gets to his feet, beckoning Chuuya to do the same with a nod as he fires off orders. 'Albatross, stay here and in contact and be ready for us once we 're done. You, ' his gaze finds Chuuya 's, 'make sure I don 't die today. Can you do that? '

'It would be a lot easier if you had just sent someone else to do this job, ' Chuuya mutters even as he follows him out of the vehicle and into the woods. 'Don 't tell me there isn 't a single person in the port mafia who could have done all of this without you being here. '

'Can you do it or not? '

'Of course I can. '

'Good. '

Aggravating, unresourceful, time-wasting child of a man that '

Chuuya stops short when he catches a glimpse of Dazai from the side ' a glimpse of his

entire

face. Of his right eye, his uncovered and totally fine right eye. Dazai catches his gaze. With both of his eyes. And it somehow feels even more unnerving than usual.

'Chuuya, ' he says. 'Focus. '

Dragging his eyes away, Chuuya blows out a breath and mirrors him instead. Guns drawn, they trek through the forest. He is focused. Very, very focused. Maybe not on the right things given the gravity of their situation, but that 's hardly his fault.

'Who exactly are we supposed to be right now if the agency asks? ' Because they will when two strangers suddenly show up. Two strangers that aren 't supposed to be from the port mafia.

'Military police, ' Dazai tells him quietly. 'So make sure to tone down your ability unless it 's absolutely necessary. As for us, we 've been partners ever since we were fifteen. Hated each other 's guts at first, but facing life-or-death situations together built a unique, powerful bond of trust between us. Everyone fears us because of how good we work together when we 're not busy tearing each other 's throats out. '

Chuuya 's eyes narrow. 'Pretty sure you can 't join the military police when you 're still underage. '

'Fine. Since we were eighteen then. '

Correcting Dazai for once ' and not the other way around ' makes Chuuya preen with childish pride, so much that he basically bumps into Dazai 's back when he pauses at the edge of the forest. It earns him another reprimanding look.

'I 'm focused, ' Chuuya hisses.

Dazai doesn 't reply. Instead, he jerks his head towards a small iron building in the near distance. 'The maintenance building. The transmitter signal should be coming from there. '

'The noises come from the bomb shelter, though, ' Chuuya says.

'Doesn 't matter. The first priority is making sure the signal is stopped. Second is securing as many enemy forces as possible before the agency ships them off to prison. '

After another look at each other, Dazai sets off and swiftly steers them across a switchyard and towards the two-story building. There is an abandoned automobile and airplane hangar inside, but judging by the distant sound of heavy slamming coming from above, it 's not empty anymore. Dazai bolts towards the stairs. The rush of his steps is startling, which is why Chuuya yanks him back with a hand looping in the belts of his west and pushes himself in front of him to take the lead. If his job is to keep Dazai alive, then Chuuya is going to draw a line in the sand and stick it out.

Ignoring the odd noise of complaint behind him, Chuuya jogs up the stairs with one arm keeping Dazai behind him. The rush of the upcoming battle heats his blood. His heart beats a steady, excited beat. He 's ready to finally use his skills to '

They reach the second floor, but those noises that sounded like a brutal fight actually come from a tall guy in a trench coat slamming a much larger man 's head into the wall over and over. It 's less a fight than a one-man race.

At the same time as Chuuya intends to disarm both of them until they figure out who is who, the trench coat wearer rolls to the side with alarming speed and instead of latching onto its target, for the tainted sorrow comes up empty. For a few seconds only, until the man touches ground again. But it 's enough time for someone to suddenly yank him back. Chuuya 's spine meets a warm chest with a stifled gasp.

'That 's a detective, ' he hears Dazai 's voice in his ear. 'And I said

tone it down

. '

Oh.

'Who are you? ' the guy -- the detective snaps and emphasizes his question by pointing a fucking gun at them. Good guy or not, that just pisses Chuuya off.

'Military police, ' Dazai says, and Chuuya feels him lift his hands as a sign of peace. It 's wrong. Wrong for someone like him to be doing that for some detective twerp. 'Our captain sent us here to stop the signal of a bomb. And who are you, kind stranger, that is aiming a gun at authorities? '

The detective 's eyes narrow. 'I 'm with the armed detective agency. How can I be sure you 're not actually the people who planted the bomb? '

'We could ask you the same thing, but for the sake of speed and efficiency, I 'm not going to. My partner and I both have IDs. I can toss them over to you if you want to take a look. '

'And lose the gun, ' Chuuya growls.

For a moment, nothing happens. Dazai behind him. Chuuya as his bulletproof body shield. The detective 's eyes narrowed in suspicion. All three of them in a headlock.

Then he nods.

Chuuya hears and feels Dazai shift as he slowly fishes out, what must be, a forged ID from somewhere. A moment later, his hand slides into Chuuya 's pocket instead. He has to force his muscles to relax even if all they want to do is go rigid with tension because of the sheer madness of having Dazai not only so close that Chuuya feels his breath tickle his neck, but also fumbling around in his pockets.

He feels disappointment and relief trading dizzying blows with each other when Dazai finally steals back his hand and chuck the IDs at the detective 's feet. They apparently look real enough to settle any suspicions for now. Exhaling, the man nods.

'Sorry about that, but you can never be too sure. How did you even find this place? '

Dazai steps back out of Chuuya 's personal space and takes all the warmth with him.

'The agency is not the only one with good intelligence and hard-working employees ' what 's your name? '

'Oda. '

'We have capable workers as well, Oda-san, ' Dazai chirps out over a headboard with rusty buttons and navigations. 'Oh dear, this machine is practically archaic! '

As Oda joins Dazai, Chuuya makes sure that the other man stays flat on the ground before securing the rest of the small room. It 's then that he takes a look out of the display window, seeing one figure down there throw the other one around like a ragdoll.

'Oi, detective-san, ' he says, 'which one of these is your partner? '

Oda takes one look at the scene and curses softly. 'Shit. That 's Kunikida. '

Chuuya clicks his tongue with growing distaste the longer he has to watch the fight. 'Is that Kunikida guy just incompetent or what 's going on? '

'He 's competent all right, ' Oda mutters, though he sounds more worried than anything. 'We went in blind. We had no idea they had an ability user. But now that I think about it ' ah, fuck,

the numbers. '

Dazai tilts his head curiously. 'The numbers? '

'We had someone in isolated protection die all of a sudden. The only thing they found on him was a number on his palm. ' The detective pushes away from the headboard, head shaking. 'I have to help Kunikida before '"

'Don 't be hasty, ' Dazai cuts in, grabbing the sleeve of Oda 's beige coat. It makes both Chuuya and the detective blink. 'If you try to help him now, you 'll end up the same, and then you 'll both die. '

'I could knock him out, ' Chuuya offers, and when he remembers that he is supposed to be a boring, unordinary military police offer: 'I 'm fast. '

Dazai shakes his head. 'We need ' '

'Get down! ' Oda wrestles both of them to the ground, and a second later, a line of fire shatters the display window into a thousand tiny pieces that rain down on them like a glass shower. Chuuya is only quick enough to shelter

himself

from the cuts, having failed to see something coming twice in a row. His teeth grit in violently escalating frustration.

'You didn 't take everyone out?! ' he hisses.

'That ability-user must have got to my partner before he could do that, ' Oda replies, face calm despite the irritation in his voice. 'I can distract the shooters, lead them away, but we still need the key for the transmitter, or all of this is in vain. '

A thin trail of blood is running down Dazai 's cheek when Chuuya looks at him. Shockingly red in contrast to his pale skin. 'No, we don 't have that much time left. Chuuya, ' their gazes meet, 'take out the snipers. We take out the ability user. I have a feeling he has the key. '

Chuuya immediately shakes his head. '

No

. You said it yourself. You 'll only end up like that ragdoll down there. '

'I have a plan. It will work. '

'You told me to keep you

alive

, ' Chuuya growls, not caring whether it doesn 't match with their military police cover story, not right now.

'You think I would come up with a strategy where I end up dead? ' Dazai doesn 't give him the time to respond. 'Go.

Now. '

With a muffled snarl, Chuuya pushes up on his hands and rises to his feet, instantly finding a corner when another round of shots rings through the air. Bullets have no use against him, but apparently Dazai doesn 't want him to make use of that without alerting anyone to this fact.

'Are you sure about this? ' he hears the detective ask somewhat baffled. Tch, as if Chuuya needs that. 'There are, at least, ten men out there. '

Dazai doesn 't sound worried at all. 'You 'd be surprised to see how capable

my

partner is. '

Chuuya takes another peak, fires his own shot, and clicks his tongue when he sees where the bastards are hiding. The entire hangar is surrounded by balconies that offer the perfect shooting range. He all but kicks the door off its hinges after ensuring that Dazai is still safe before taking off into a sprint to get this thing moving. While disarming with his ability would take less than ten seconds, it would also betray that they might be more than simple military officers, and that subsequently could ruin Dazai 's plans to go home with prisoners and clear the port mafia 's name from this mess ' however he intends to do

that

.

So Chuuya chases the snipers as far away from Dazai and the detective as possible, playing the role of a suicidal but rather agile madman who manages to evade every bullet that gets fired at him. He chases them to the roof of the building where no one but him and the merciless night sky will be witness to the carnage he is about to unleash on them.

Then he strikes.

One step forward renders the men incapacitated in the air. Then he kicks off the ground and ricochets of the wall behind him to knock them out one by one, glancing off the ground and the wall again and again, quick and dirty, before landing in a squat with a shuddering chest. The red glow of for the tainted sorrow fading.

There. Done. No one saw him, and the men won 't be a bother anymore without being dead either.

A shot rings through the air then. His reflexes are fast enough for the bullet to simply bounce off him, but the fact that someone managed to fire at all is '

Chuuya 's work is

flawless.

Or it should be. Yet there, in the midst of the heap of bodies, one man is still very much conscious, trying to haul himself to his wobbling feet with a gun in his hands that he uses to shoot at him

again

.

And something about that just trips Chuuya off, makes him stalk over and slam the weapon out of his hands before grabbing his neck and squeezing. It 's only supposed to be a warning. After all, Dazai did say he wanted as many of them alive as possible. But Chuuya miscalculates. The throat under his fingers gives away, and within the blink of an eye, his hand breaks through skin and bones and blood, crushing the windpipe with a sickening noise. The man 's head sags back lifelessly.

Chuuya 's vision darkens over and over as he blinks at the dead man. Then he lets go. The body slumps to the floor.

Oh.

His gaze flickers down to his hand, stained with blood and body matter.

He is no saint. He has killed before. It 's part of this life. And this man ' he was part of a group that wanted to blow up half of the city.

But there is something nauseating about holding someone while you feel them die. Something perversely intimate about staring into someone 's eyes when the light bulb flickers out.

Chuuya 's not sure how long he stands there staring at his own hand. Too long, probably. Eventually, noises from below rattle him awake, and he takes a step back from the corpse with a shaky breath, then another, before spinning around altogether and hailing himself over the railing so he can land on the ground level.

For a dizzying moment, he looks around, and when he doesn 't immediately see Dazai, something in him trembles. Because if Dazai ended up dead, he would have not only failed to do his damn job, but he would also never find what he 's looking for. He 'd never know. He 'd never be able to tell Dazai how much he hates him again. And '

Chuuya hears his voice first. Then Dazai comes out from behind a corner, leading a man in a green parka towards the exit.

Chuuya 's chest falls so heavily the entire place spins as he jogs up to him. Dazai 's mouth widens into a smile when he spots him, though his eyes don 't fail to take inventory of the drying blood on his hands.

'You 're fine, ' Chuuya says, not really sure whether it 's a question or a statement.

'Naturally, ' Dazai replies and lightly kicks his prisoner in the shin when he refuses to move. 'Are you? '

'Yeah. What happened? ' Chuuya glances around. 'Where are the detectives? '

'In the control room and on the phone with their agency. '

'Did you find the key? '

'It was broken, but Oda-san 's partner recreated an exact replica with his ability just in time. '

'They still think we 're the military police? '

Dazai hums.

The guy, on the other hand, snaps his head around, frowning furiously. 'What do you mean they think? You 're not?! '

'Oh, buddy, ' Dazai drawls, 'we 're going to have so much fun together. '

'What the hell do you mean by that?! '

'Make him shut up, ' Chuuya mutters. There is a dull ache beginning to form in the back of his head, and the loud yapping will only make it worse.

'Did you hear that? My partner thinks you should shut up, so I 'll give you two choices: listen to him, or I 'll make you. Ah, wait. Changed my mind. I 'll do it myself. ' After the man goes silent and his unconscious body slumps forward, Dazai, the bastard, makes Chuuya carry him. Then he asks, 'where are the snipers? '

'Roof. '

'Would Chuuya mind getting them down here? Our extraction cars are already here thanks to Albatross. I will go back and distract the detectives while you 're busy. '

Chuuya does mind going back there, but he minds Dazai sniffing out any weak spots like this even more. 'You mean you want to clear the port mafia 's name while you 're at it? '

'If I so happen to mention that the port mafia 's only involvement was a traitorous spy, then what the agency does with that information is up to them. ' Shrugging, Dazai folds his arms behind his back. 'Killing two birds with one stone. It 's crafty, no? '

A few of the other men are already packed into cars and Dazai all too happily shoves the organization's leader into the truck with the rest of them. An entire enemy group practically razed to the ground, and Dazai barely did any of the work. The agency did.

Going back on the roof is dreadful, but Chuuya locks away any lingering feeling of personal failure that led to this mistake and focuses on being quick and efficient instead. It doesn 't take long before everyone is packed away and the extraction cars with the prisoners are starting to head back to the base. The only thing to do is to wait for Dazai to finally come back.

Chuuya is already starting to worry that they have been found out after all when he sees the man stroll out with the two detectives like he is chatting to long-lost friends of his. Only Dazai is bold enough to hijack a few dozen prisoners out from under some holier than thou agency 's nose and make small talk with them the entire time ' and even wave Chuuya over to join them.

The only reason why he listens is so he can personally drag Dazai back to the car.

'Your partner here was right, ' Oda says with an acknowledging nod, 'you are pretty capable. One men against ten? Not everything has the strength, let alone the nerve. '

Chuckling, Dazai pats him on the back. 'You will not find anyone with more nerves than Chuuya-kun here. '

'One against ten, huh? ' The other one ' Kunikida says with crossed arms. 'Usually I 'm against flaunting skills by forgoing safety protocols, but you not only helped us but Yokohama, too. Both of you. So on behalf of the agency and the entire city, thank you. '

'Whatever, ' Chuuya mutters. The flood of praise and compliments makes him feel trapped in his own body, every word, sound, and exhale loud and irritating. 'Don 't make a big deal out of it. '

'And look at how humble he is, too, ' Dazai drawls. 'I 'm afraid we must go now, but it has been a blast working with you. Chuuya-kun wasn 't the only one who was impressive today. You all were. '

It takes another eternity of pleasantries and goodbyes to finally get going.

Chuuya waits until it 's only the two of them to grab Dazai 's hand and look at it. No numbers. He checks the other before Dazai can pull away, but surprisingly, Dazai lets him without ever trying to.

They must have secured the ability-user somehow, but if everyone got a number, then Dazai should have one, too. Unless '

Chuuya lifts his gaze to look at him. Dazai stares back, his expression a book in a language that Chuuya doesn 't understand ' not yet, at least. He is still learning.

There could be a dozen different explanations, but slowly, an idea starts forming in Chuuya 's head. He doesn 't voice it out loud. Not yet.

Letting go of Dazai, he shoves his hands into the pockets of his west and heads towards the car. 'Next time you want me to follow your orders, don 't fucking tell me to be your bodyguard. It 's either or. Not both. '

'I never told you to be my bodyguard, ' he hears Dazai thrill behind him. 'I wanted you to keep me alive, and that 's what you did. '

'Tch. '

The ride of the home is silent. It 's only been a few hours, at most, but Chuuya feels like he 's been awake for days, an oppressive, heavy layer of exhaustion draping over him and not letting up. He stares at nothing in particular until his eyes flicker to his hands. The filthy, dried-up blood that sticks to his skin. Then he drags them away to stare off into the distance again.

He feels Dazai observe him, too, but as he doesn 't say anything, Chuuya doesn 't tell him to stop either.

It 's only later after Albatross safely delivers them back to the base and they climb out of the truck and head towards the elevator, that Dazai speaks.

'Take a few days off. '

Chuuya side-eyes him. 'Why? '

'Because you 've been working every day for nearly a month. '

'I don 't need a break just because I killed someone, ' he says with a dry exhale. Because that 's what it is about, right? Dazai thinks he can 't handle a little blood on his hands?

The elevator door slides open, and they step inside.

'And I 'm not saying you do, ' Dazai tells him in the narrow space of the four walls around him. 'You were distracted today. You did a good job, but you were still distracted. A few days off will do you good. '

Chuuya can 't really pinpoint what it is that makes it hurt. The fact that he was distracted by a dream, that he wouldn 't have dried blood under his nails if not for that, or the absurdity of wanting that recognition from the man that he is supposed to hate.

'Go see your beloved friends, and ' buy yourself an ice cream, or whatever it is that you do when you are with them. '

'I thought you didn 't like my friends. '

'I don 't. But you do, so. '

When Chuuya glances up at him, there is this weird expression on his face, his mouth pressing together into a funny line, lashes fluttering, his arms pulled back behind his spine. Dazai looks awkward. It 's horrible.

'Okay, ' is all Chuuya can say since awkwardness is apparently infectious.

Elevators seem to be working differently when Dazai is inside them ' that, or they have a special

Boss onboard

setting ' because it lifts them to Chuuya 's floor without a single interruption. There is a split second after it stops and before the doors open where Dazai lifts one of his hands and moves it like he is going to tap Chuuya on the back or his shoulder, but it just hovers there in the air, not touching but not returning to its former place either. Then the doors glide open. Chuuya steps out. He hears them slide shut behind him.

And Dazai is gone.