'Hey, Chuuya. '

Dazai.

It 's Dazai.

'What the fuck

?! '

Chuuya snaps into the speaker, fingers shaking with the adrenaline that has bottled up inside him in the last few minutes.

'Do you like your new playmates? Their names are Albatross and Iceman. ' The white-haired guy offers him a wide grin and a wave. The other one lights up a cigarette in the corner of whatever shithole they 're in. 'You 're going to cross paths quite often in the future. '

"Playmates?! They almost killed me!"

'No, they tested your loyalty, ' Dazai corrects softly. 'Or did you think the mafia lets everyone walk in and out of it as they please? '

Well, no, but '

Chuuya blows out an angry breath through his teeth, trying and failing to smother the roaring in his hand. 'Letting some asshole beat me up. Real nice of you, boss. '

On the other end, Dazai chuckles. 'You 're a smart boy. I knew you wouldn 't be stupid enough to betray us. '

'Then why test me?! '

'Because you have to work with everyone else as well, and that 's only possible if there 's a foundation of trust between the two parties. '

Chuuya shakes his head silently before remembering something. Something crucial. 'What about the sheep? Did you do the same with them?! '

'Ah, yes, your little lambs. I should be hearing from them any minute now. '

'If you so much a ' '

'Take a nap now, Chuuya. I 'll see you tonight and tell you all about it. '

'Tonight? ' Chuuya repeats.

Dazai hums. 'Your initiation tattoo, remember? I say you earned it. Welcome to the port mafia. '

The line goes dead before Chuuya has time to reply. The guy ' Albatross, he thinks, locks his phone and slides it into his pocket, then places his hands on his hips. 'So that was fun, eh? '

Chuuya 's eye twitches as he looks up at him. 'Fun?! You ' ah, fuck, never mind. Just get me out of these handcuffs! What kind of handcuffs are they, by the way?! My ability ' '

' ' is temporarily nullified, ' Albatross says, squatting down next to Chuuya to free him. 'They 're prototypes, but pretty impressive, right? '

'

Annoying

. That 's what they are. '

'Hey, that 's hurtful, Chuuya. Our folks worked hard on them! '

As Chuuya gets to his feet, finally feeling like himself again as soon as he feels the rush of

for the tainted sorrow

crash through him, he shoots Albatross a glare. 'Don 't call me Chuuya. You don 't even know me aside from this little theatre performance you and your asshole friend put on. '

The asshole friend in question doesn 't even bother to acknowledge him. Instead, he turns and opens the door of the container ' so that 's where they are.

Albatross throws his arm around Chuuya. 'And we 're going to change that. How about grabbing a bite for breakfast? '

'No. '

'C 'mon, you must be hungry! '

As if on cue, Chuuya 's traitorous stomach decides to growl. 'I have enough food at home, and I don 't want to go anywhere with you. I don 't even like you. '

'That 's what Dazai said too at first, and now look at me! In charge of his infamous husband. He didn 't even invite me to the wedding. Can you believe that? '

Physically, Chuuya continues to ignore him, but mentally, Chuuya 's doing gymnastics to reconsider the new information. If Albatross is close to Dazai ' and that is what he 's implying here ' then getting close to Albatross in return might be Chuuya 's best shot at worming his way inside the nest.

Well, technically, he 's already inside, but it will take time and careful planning to lay the foundation for the total and utter destruction of the port mafia.

'Fine, ' Chuuya ends up huffing out, pushing Albatross away from him to maintain authenticity. ' But only because I 'll have to hitch a ride with you anyway. '

'You will not regret this decision, Nakahara Chuuya, ' Albatross tells him with a dopey grin before catching up to Ice Man and harassing him instead. 'Eh, did you hear that, Frosty? Chuuya 's going to McDonald 's with us! '

They end up in the drive-through because both Albatross and Ice Man are still wearing uniforms, and there are still bruises forming on Chuuya 's face. That doesn 't stop Albatross from talking about a mile a minute about quite literally everything but important information.

The worst thing is that Chuuya even finds himself accidentally laughing one or two times, although he spends most of the ride thinking he 's about to die all over again because of the guy 's recklessly fast driving.

When they pull up in front of the tower, Albatross grabs Chuuya 's phone before he can protest. 'I like your outfit, by the way. Very badass. '

'Your boss doesn 't seem to think the same. And what the hell are you doing with my phone? '

'Saving myself in your contacts, duh. ' Albatross stretches out his arm, pointing the camera at the two of them and holding up a peace sign as the flash goes off. Chuuya continues scowling. 'And Dazai 's a grumpy old man stuck in a twenty-something-year-old body. '

Grumpy old man instead of the demon prodigy, huh?

'Here, ' Albatross says, handing over his phone. 'If you ever need a fast escape, I 'm your man. '

'Good to know, ' Chuuya huffs, grabbing the door handle to get the hell out of here, but not before glancing at Ice Man in the backseat, torn between cursing him out and trying to stay civilized.

Ice Man speaks first. 'If you expect to hear an apology from me, you will be sitting here for a long time. ' He takes a drag off his cigarette, tapping the ash off it outside the open window. 'Welcome to the mafia, though. I have a feeling things are about to get interesting. '

Back at the apartment, Chuuya 's tempted to hop into bed right then and there and pass the fuck out but ' he 's supposed to have Kouyou 's documents memorized by ' by today, actually, and who knows when she will call for him again. Maybe in an hour. Or maybe in ten minutes.

For the tainted sorrow is already working on his injuries, but Chuuya grabs a pack of ice from the freezer anyways and sits down at the table ' one that 's supposed to be used for dining, what with the view over Yokohama 's skyline. Chuuya needs it for studying, though.

Before the delivery Chuuya discovered that watching the TV with subtitles might be quite useful, so he switches it on and starts writing furiously. He writes and listens, and he writes some more and '

***

The sound of something buzzing jolts him awake.

For a few terrifying moments, Chuuya thinks he has the misfortune of sleeping under a hornet 's nest again, his body kicking into action before his brain does. Then he realizes that he 's inside, safe and sound, and drooling on the table instead.

It 's dark outside too, which means that he slept through the entire day.

Fuck.

The phone stops buzzing, and Chuuya looks at the caller ID. An unsaved number. Considering, Kouyou 's name that he memorized was already saved there, and it 's not Albatross either, it could have been only so many people.

Somewhere in the apartment, he hears the electrical hum of the elevator and '

Tonight.

Dazai said he 'd do the tattoo

tonight

.

So right now.

Jumping to his feet, Chuuya frantically starts stacking his papers, documents, and the dictionary on a pile that will hopefully look unsuspicious and not like a miserable attempt at learning to read and write. He finishes just in time, now straightening out his hair and clothes, when the port mafia boss strolls into the living room.

'Morning, sunshine, ' is the first thing that Dazai says, and Chuuya 's face immediately bleeds into a scowl. Is it that obvious that he just woke up? 'You got a few ' ' Dazai points at his own face, clearly trying to stifle a grin. ' ' sleeping lines there. '

'Oh. '

'Hm. Rested enough for the tattoo? It 's going to take a while. '

About that. Chuuya keeps expecting someone else to show up, perhaps a tattoo artist that works for the mafia, but no one else comes. It 's just the two of them. 'Are you going to do the tattooing? '

'That is what I said, yes. '

'I thought you 'd give it to me symbolically, not... physically. '

The horror on Chuuya 's face must show because Dazai places a hand over his heart mockingly.

'You don 't trust me to ink you? You wound me. '

'Yeah, well, you clearly don 't trust me either. Speaking of, every single member of the sheep better be unharmed, or so help me go ' '

Dazai lifts his hand. 'All in due time. We 'll have so much time to talk about it tonight. Why spoil the surprise? '

'Spoil the surprise?! You 're talking about my friends and ' '

' ' the most important people in your life, ' Dazai mock-exclaims as if he has heard the phrase a thousand times already, all while strolling through the kitchen and starting to open and close cabinets, shamelessly snooping before he must realize they 're just as empty as they were before Chuuya arrived here. 'Don 't you ever get tired of only having one personality trait, Chuuya? Live a little. They are not your planet earth, and you are not their moon. '

Sure, he 's his own person, but the sheep always have and will come

first

.

'I know this is hard for you to understand when you 're constantly isolated in that barricaded top floor of yours where nothing can touch you, but in the sheep,

I

fight

for

them. Not the other way around. '

Turning away from the fridge, Dazai gazes at him, his head tilted curiously. Though, what stands out are the black pools of his eyes, so dark that they seem to absorb all light. It 's an expression at odds with itself. Completely illogical. And Chuuya finds himself digging his nails into the skin of his palm to return the stare without looking away ' even if every single survival instinct that he picked up on the streets is telling him to run and be fast. 'You think I haven 't made sacrifices for my people? '

'I 'm sure you 've done a fair share of sacrificing, ' Chuuya grits out. 'Just not anything that ever affected you. '

Dazai 's curved mouth takes a sharp turn before it bleeds into something lighter to look at it ' breezy amusement. Even if they both know how false it is.

'Lucky me to have such a devoted husband then, eh? The mafia does love blood-thick, death-over-life loyalty, and they will love the ink being proof of that. ' He curls two fingers to signal Chuuya to come over.

Getting called over like a fucking dog is humiliating, but Chuuya knows no amount of stalling will change the outcome of tonight. He will get that tattoo. And it will bring him closer to his goal. 'Has your pretty little head been wondering what 's behind the door? '

'What door? ' Chuuya asks, following Dazai as he leads them down the dim-lit hallway ' the one on the opposite side of the bedroom.

'This one, of course. ' Dazai theatrically grabs the handle, and when it remains locked, he glances at Chuuya, though his overdramatic grin ebbs away into genuine confusion. 'You haven 't even tried to have a peep? '

Chuuya scowls at Dazai, then at the door. 'It 's locked. '

'Precisely. ' For a few moments, they stare at each other, each one confused over something unsaid the other doesn 't understand. At last, Dazai lets out a loud sigh, shaking his head in disappointment. 'Really? You didn 't explore the apartment? Check for any bugs? '

Well...

Chuuya did take a personal tour on the first night after Higuchi left. Considering he has constant access to it, he figured most of it isn 't necessarily crucial information that he 'd need to discover anyway, including this... strange locked room.

'I was busy, ' Chuuya tells him with a shrug.

'Busy, ' Dazai parrots, sliding a hand into the pocket of his dark slacks to retrieve a key card. 'What 's Kouyou been doing with you? Twenty-four-hour interrogation training? '

It 's not Kouyou who has been keeping him occupied but Chuuya 's attempts at finding a solution to his illiteracy, and there 'sno way in hell that he 's going to tell Dazai that. Thankfully, Dazai chooses this moment to unlock his stupid room.

'And? ' Dazai asks expectantly. 'What do you think? '

'It 's a room. ' Chuuya steps inside, not really sure what all the build-up was for. 'Nice... walls? '

That must be the wrong answer considering Dazai 's giddy expression once again falters at the seams. However, it 's quickly replaced by a blank, impenetrable slate. 'It 's our tattoo studio. Well, it could be one day. '

A little concerned, Chuuya raises his brows. 'So you don 't do this very often? '

'I 've done it enough times, ' Dazai drawls, walking over to one of the ink-black shelves and starting to unload things and instruments on it that Chuuya supposes are needed for ' this. 'Don 't worry. '

Not like he has a choice, Chuuya thinks as he goes to sit down on the tattoo chair in the middle of the room. 'Fine. Whatever. Let 's just get this over with. '

'Will you be able to handle shaving your back on your own? ' Dazai asks nonchalantly as he places a container with the word BIOHAZARD on it in thick red letters.

'Hah?! '

'Your back and your shoulders, ' Dazai only turns his head to offer him an impish grin. 'That 's the place of your tattoo. They have to be shaved. '

Chuuya had no idea about that. It 's a problem but that 's okay. He can fix it. 'I can do it, ' he announces, getting to his feet. 'Just gimme ten minutes. '

'Uh-uh. You know where to find me if you do need help. '

'I won 't! '

***

Chuuya needs help.

He managed to shave his lower and upper back just fine, but there are a few spots that he can 't properly reach whether he tries from above, from below, or from the sides. All he manages to do is fucking cutting himself.

Considering Dazai 's about to ink him for god knows how many hours, it 's not ideal. However, leaving the bathroom and asking Dazai for help?

That 's gotta be more painful than a few delicate shaving cuts.

'C 'mon, ' Chuuya mutters to himself as he twists his neck to try and get a look at his half-shaved cream-covered back in the mirror, uselessly wiggling the razor between his fingers, 'you 've done so much harder things than ' than this, fuck! '

It 's fruitless.

Which means '

He takes a deep breath for mental strength and patience before he kicks open the door and stomps out of the bathroom and down the hallway to Dazai 's stupid fucking tattoo studio.

Thankfully, Chuuya doesn 't even have to say anything.

It takes Dazai merely to lift his head and take one good look at him before nodding at the tattoo chair with the self-satisfaction of the stupid motherfucker that he is.

'Not a word, ' Chuuya warns him when he obediently sits down and offers Dazai the razor.

His only response is a quiet chuckle; then Dazai goes to work.

Even though he 's quick and efficient, taking care of some of the other spots Chuuya must have missed earlier without so much as a teasing remark, Chuuya can 't help but be achingly aware of every place where his fingers graze naked skin.

The life he led before this never allowed for much ' intimacy, let alone romance. Every touch that Chuuya felt before was laced with intent, even in the burning dumpster fire that his 'relationship ' with Luca ended up being.

So this ' the quiet movements of Dazai behind him, the soft sound of their breaths, suddenly feels a thousand times more never-wrecking than kissing him at that altar a few days ago.

And, it 's been a while.

Chuuya feels himself exhale with relief when Dazai announces that he 's done, using the opportunity of washing and drying his back in the bathroom as an excuse to collect himself.

He can only hide in there for so long, though ' it 's already pretty late, and Chuuya doesn 't want to make it a habit to get up at noon.

'I 'm going to show you the design now, ' Dazai tells him once he 's back.

'Before we can get to the tattooing, we 'll first have to place the stencil on your back, see that the size and positioning are right. It 's like a fake tattoo, if you will. '

'Great, ' Chuuya mutters, sitting down. 'Can 't wait to see what I 'll have to carry on my back for the rest of my life. '

'This. You 'll be carrying this. '

Chuuya 's lashes flutter slowly as he takes in the meticulous design that Dazai holds up to him.

Wings.

A pair of feathery, thick wings descending up, up, up ' covering shoulders and a part of his arms, Chuuya supposes. Right below the part where the feathers come together, there are spikes, sharp and lethal just like the choker Chuuya wears around his neck; out of the whole thing, a spine comes out with a few spare ribs here and there. And on the top center of the entire thing, there 's a sun, emitting ink-black particles.

Looking at it, a peculiar feeling overcomes him, like he 's seen it before ' no, Chuuya hasn 't, but it feels like he should have, a painfully vivid deja-vu that leaves him scatter-brained.

In the end, what he asks is, 'why? '

Dazai 's head tilts curiously.

'Why come up with this design? ' Chuuya tries. 'What does it mean? '

'Your ability. It allows you to fly, no? '

'Yeah. '

Dazai just nods.

'What? ' Chuuya huffs. 'That 's it? I can fly, so I get wings? '

The strangest thing happens.

Dazai ghosts one lone finger over the design with a smile on his face ' a smile so hollow that it 's like witnessing Dazai fight something invisible, something no one else can see. 'You couldn 't possibly understand. '

It 's all procedure after that.

As odd as the tattoo makes him feel, Chuuya finds that he actually likes it, which, he knows, is not something he 's supposed to be thinking when it 's only a necessity to make the mafia believe that Chuuya is okay with all this, but ' he figures it won 't hurt to see the good sides of things every once in a while. At least, someday, Chuuya will be able to look at himself in the mirror and see the physical proof of everything he did to get the sheep their freedom.

When Chuuya takes off his shirt, he ignores the treacherous quiver of muscles spasming inside him.

Dazai slaps some weird liquid on his back, shoulders, and arms, then carefully applies the paper with the design ' stencil is what he called it. After ensuring that the size, position, and everything else is fine, Dazai starts putting ink into tiny little buckets. Chuuya gets himself a bottle of water from the kitchen in case he gets thirsty during the procedure.

Chuuya 's heart knocks loudly against his rib cage when he finally gets to lie down on the tattoo chair. Dazai, on the other hand, is silence personified as he adjusts the tattoo gun.

And then '

'Are you ready? '

'Yeah, ' Chuuya breathes out, letting his eyes fall shut, 'I am. '

He feels something creamy and oily on his back first; only then does the tattoo gun start buzzing quietly.

The first press of the needle against his skin is ' it 's not exactly painful, but not that pleasant either. Just weird. After a few moments, Dazai wipes off the patch and lotions another one before the tattoo gun comes into play again.

For a while, it goes like this. Lotion, inking, wiping clean the stretch of skin.

Once Chuuya gets used to the new sensation of the needle piercing his skin, the monotony of the movements almost bleeds into something soothing. The muscles in his body start to relax slowly, sinking into the chair underneath.

Maybe Dazai notices him nodding off because, after some time, he asks, 'How was your first day? '

Chuuya has to drag his eyes open to clear some of that warm fog in his head. 'You mean before you had your men almost shoot me? '

'Yes. ' Dazai doesn 't sound apologetic at all.

Chuuya exhales with a huff. 'Fine, I guess. Kouyou showed me around and introduced me to a bunch of people. I 'm in charge of overseeing the delivery from the docks to the auction hall next week. '

He doesn 't know why he actually tells Dazai all this but it must be the weird intimacy of this situation that makes the word tumble out of him this easily.

Dazai hums as he continues to work. 'You nervous? '

'What? No! '

'It 's fine to be. The auction is important. Just don 't let anyone see, and you 'll be fine. '

Chuuya glares half-heartedly at the wall in front of him. 'Duh, that man ' Ace. He 's annoying enough as it is. '

'Ace is a slimy bastard. '

'Uh, ' Chuuya barely holds in the surprised laughter that wants to burst out of him ' and only because he doesn 't want to accidentally move too much and be responsible for a messed up tattoo that he 'll have to bear. 'Then why 'd you make him an executive? '

'He was already one before I became the boss, ' Dazai tells him casually, 'and seizing that position was already delicate enough without getting rid of the executives that I personally find to be a waste of breathing space. '

Right.

Dazai hasn 't been the boss for that long ' something that 's hard to imagine given how lightly he treats his position, but Chuuya remembers the rumors that were spreading in the streets at that time.

The former boss was assassinated by his right hand.

A demon possessed the old boss.

A strange 'accident ' led to the changes in the port mafia.

What Chuuya remembers, even more, are the months after. The mafia had been ruthless before, of course, but with their new boss, their power just

exploded

.

The courts, distribution, banks, urban development ' there 's not a single institution, not only within Yokohama but the entire Kanto region that doesn 't have mafia-black blood running through it anymore; the mafia 's forces grown to rival even those of the damn government.

It became all but impossible to deal with anyone on the street without ending up staring down the barrel of a mafia gun at the end of the day. It 's safe to say that getting by in the last two years was a pain in the ass and all that came into fruition... because of the man that is currently sitting above Chuuya with a tattoo gun in his hand.

'So, ' Chuuya says, 'did you really kill the boss before you? '

It 's a shot in the dark ' a dangerous one, at that, but Chuuya has a feeling that the tightrope he 's walking isn 't as brittle as everyone assumes it to be.

If Dazai 's in any way surprised by that question, it doesn 't show, his movements as smooth and precise as ever. 'And what if I did? '

'Nothing, ' Chuuya replies honestly. 'I 'm just curious. '

'Whether I murdered my predecessor in cold blood or whether he became a victim to soldiers looking for absolution doesn 't matter. Not really. In the end, this was the only way ' ' It sounds like there is another part to that sentence like there is more, but Dazai trails off and leaves it unsaid.

Again, an eerie feeling swirls through Chuuya as if he 's standing too close to a painting to see the whole picture, but whenever he tries to take a step back, an invisible wall keeps him there, keeps him blind and in the dark.

That 's what evokes Chuuya to ask the thing that he really needs to know. 'So about the sheep. ' When Dazai only continues humming innocently, Chuuya shakes his head. 'Oh, c 'mon. We 've got an entire night ahead of us. Why do you insist on dragging it out, huh? ' Unless Dazai is hesitant because the answer won 't please Chuuya ' 'Unless you did something to them?! '

'Relax. Your lambs are safe and sound. '

'So talk! '

'Almost all of them passed the test. '

'Almost? '

'Mmm. Three of them gave up valuable information. '

'Which ones? '

'Shougo, Akira and... someone named De Luca. '

'And what did you do to them? ' Chuuya snaps.

'Nothing. '

'Yeah, right, like I 'm supposed to believe that?! '

'Trust me, Chuuya darling, if I didn 't risk the possibility of you going berserk as soon as somebody touches your precious members, I would have disposed of the traitors the moment they opened their chatty mouths. As it is, I need you, so yes, they 're safe and untouched, but will have my men keep an extra eye on them from now on. I 'm patient, but I 'm not stupid. '

Chuuya takes a few moments to process his words.

I need you.

It does make sense if you consider that Dazai has always been rumored to be this all-encompassing genius, so of course, he 'd think far ahead, but one question remains, and oh, that question is like the glowing neon sign of one of the casinos in the arcade district.

'Why go through all this? ' he asks. 'You need me? For what? What the hell are you planning?! '

Instead of a reply, Chuuya feels the firm pressure of two fingers pushing against the base of his neck and force his head back down. 'Careful. We don 't want to mess up your tattoo. '

'Fuck the tattoo, ' Chuuya mutters, even if he does make sure not to move too much. 'Just tell me. Why did you want this truce when you probably could have found another way to get rid of the sheep? ' Fuck, they apparently even have ability-nullifying wristbands. Chuuya doesn 't mention them so that Dazai won 't get even more ideas, but the fact remains.

'It 's tiring, ' he hears Dazai reply. 'Being the boss. Everyone always wants something from me. There is always a problem needing to be fixed. And it 's much more paperwork than you could possibly imagine. So... I decided to get myself a husband who will do all the work for me. '

Tiring

? That doesn 't sound like the infamous demon prodigy that turned a kingdom of blood into an empire.

What a load of bullshit.

'Now what about you, though, ' Dazai adds before Chuuya can tell him what exactly he thinks of his lame explanation. 'The king of the sheep. Agreeing to marry into the mafia without so much as an attempt at a fight. ' Chuuya feels the need to shift, but he stifles it by digging his nails into the skin of his palms. 'It does sound like an excellent opportunity to take down the big bad by poisoning him with your own flesh, doesn 't it? Learn everything there is to know. Get close to the people. Make them trust you. And then, boom. ' Dazai 's voice is a soft caress. 'You

strike

. '

Has Chuuya been a thoughtless idiot all this time? Has Dazai been aware of his true intentions from day one?

Maybe so, but right now, he 's in a pretty vulnerable position, back exposed, allowing him to pierce his skin with a tattoo gun over and over, and still, Dazai hasn 't struck. He already had a thousand opportunities to kill Chuuya, but he hasn 't, which means there is something that he wants ' that he needs from him.

And it sure as hell is not a helping hand for paperwork.

And even though being in this position ' Chuuya 's life and the fate of the sheep in the hands of a mere hunch ' makes a chilled shiver creep down his spine, it also feels a lot like diving off a skyscraper with only the trust in himself and his abilities, and that?

Chuuya likes it. He thrives on it.

'Sounds like a great plan, ' he breathes out after a moment. 'Too bad, no one is stupid enough to think the big bad wolf wouldn 't find out. '

Above him, Dazai exhales loudly. 'A shame, really. It could have been fun. '

Or a complete disaster.

Whatever Dazai wants with him, he is also aware that Chuuya 's not here to spend the rest of his life happily working for the mafia, which means that every attempt at corrupting this place, every word and gesture will be anticipated and countered with a hostile chess move.

No pressure.

The weight of the weeks and months ahead of him, as well as the rhythmic movements of Dazai 's hands working on his back and shoulders, let Chuuya 's eyelids grow heavy with fatigue. He doesn 't allow himself to sleep, not properly anyway, but he lets his eyes fall shut and lets his thoughts wander in the drowsy silence that encompasses the room. It 's not until the permanent buzzing of the tattoo gun stops and doesn 't turn on again that Chuuya realizes they 're done.

Dazai rolls away on his chair and starts cleaning his instruments. 'I 'll leave you some instructions on how to take care of the tattoo until our next session. '

'Our next session? '

Dazai 's eyes glimmer with amusement. 'You didn 't think a few hours was all it 's going to take, right? '

Coming to an upright position, Chuuya lets out a vexed breath. 'No, of course not. ' His back doesn 't really hurt, but he can definitely feel that someone has been working on it, so he stretches his neck and arms and lets it sit for a few moments before saying, 'I want to see it. '

Dazai grabs one of the portable mirrors and motions him to turn to the big, tall one fixed on the wall across from the bed. Chuuya turns around, ending up facing Dazai and the mirror he 's holding up to let Chuuya see his own back.

He 's not sure what he expected. A sudden derivation from the design, or perhaps the toddler 's version of it, but this '

It 's a perfect execution of the stencil.

'How did you get so good at drawing? ' Chuuya finds himself wondering out loud.

'I have a lot of time, ' Dazai says before lowering the mirror again and placing it back on one of the shelves.

Chuuya scoffs. 'Didn 't you say that being the boss is tiring just a few hours ago? How does that leave with you lots of time? '

'Everything becomes tediously easy when you do it enough times. ' Dazai 's lips form a smile, but his one eye remains dark and lifeless. 'You will understand soon enough. Trust me. '

Chuuya doubts that he will find any of the tasks given here relaxing anytime soon. Easy? Probably. That doesn 't mean shit, though, when you 're in enemy territory, constantly surrounded by people that want you dead, and going head to head in a game of cat and mouse with a brilliant-minded genius who specializes in methodical torture. It 's not relaxing or easy or a space to discover your hidden strengths and talents. Suffocating. That 's what it is.

As promised, Dazai gives him a hand-written list with aftercare instructions, so for once, Chuuya is grateful when Dazai adds some verbal explanations, saving him the time to find out how to care for a fresh tattoo somehow else.

By the time, Dazai looks like he 's ready to leave as he gets to his feet, Chuuya 's mind is too fogged with sleepiness to prevent Dazai from pausing by the table that Chuuya has been studying at earlier in the living room on his way out, one hand reaching out to grab one of the papers there and '

'Chuuya, ' he says. 'What 's this? '

'That 's ' '

Oh god.

Oh

no.

' ' none of your damn business, ' Chuuya snaps and tries to steal back the paper with his miserable attempts at learning the Japanese language. But Dazai is tall with unfairly long arms, and he 's also a gigantic asshole who holds it as far away from Chuuya as possible.

'Nuh-uh, I think it is. '

'Give it back, you ' '

'

Fire. Reports. Ten. Gr

- ' His brows pinch together. ' '

grund

? Why are there a dozen random words written on here? '

'Because I like writing down random words, ' Chuuya says without a beat and finally manages to snatch the paper away. 'It stimulates my brain. Now get out of my apartment. '

Dazai 's eyes are already narrowed, though; his expression could only be described as calculating. 'Chuuya, ' he finally says and grabs the dictionary that 's also lying on the table, flipping it open on a random page. 'What does this say? '

Fuck.

Chuuya glances at the word that Dazai 's finger is pointing at, then redirects his glare back at his face. 'It says

eat shit and die. '

'Not quite. ' Dazai takes a step closer, barging into Chuuya 's personal space like he 's the fucking owner of it. 'If one of my people that is responsible for high-risk missions cannot read, I need to know. '

Chuuya 's lips flatten into a thin, angry line. Why did it have to be

Dazai

of all people to discover this little truth about him? Literally the worst person out of all of them. The thing about Dazai, though, is that he is probably just as stubborn as Chuuya. They might have only met days ago, but Dazai has been toying with him from the start. Now that he has uncovered something of this magnitude, he certainly won 't stop, so backing out of this is all but a fruitless task.

'Fine, ' he ends up growling and throwing up his hands, 'you got me. I 'm a twenty-year-old guy who never fucking learned how to read. You happy? '

Dazai 's sardonic smile gets even wider. 'Oh, I forgot. Happy birthday. '

Chuuya 's chin jerks up to him. 'How do you know that?! '

'I know things, Chuuya. That stimulates

my

brain. You really shouldn 't be surprised by this by now. '

Crossing his arms over his chest, Chuuya exhales slowly. 'So. What will you do with this information? '

'Fix it, obviously, ' Dazai replies. 'I have plans for you, and they don 't include you screwing up because you didn 't have all the necessary information. Don 't worry, though. Learning to write and read is hard but not impossible. '

'What you 're gonna do?

Teach me? '

he asks mockingly.

'That is exactly what I 'm going to do, ' Dazai tells him and starts heading towards the door. 'I 'm also going to make sure that you will receive all information verbally, so you actually know what ' '

'Wait. '

'Hm? '

'You can 't go around telling people I can 't fucking read. They already think I 'm the street rat who will betray the mafia at any given moment. Do you know what they 'll do when they find out I 'm illiterate?! '

Dazai halts with a hand around the doorknob, considering this. 'Fine. I won 't tell anyone about your little secret, but I will be taking precautions, and I will teach you. Some things come before pride, Chuuya. '

'Yeah, I married into the mafia, ' Chuuya mutters. 'I know how to swallow my pride. '

'Good. Then we 're in agreement. Same time tomorrow? Sounds good. Great. Good night. '

After the door falls shut, Chuuya stands there and stares at it for a moment.

It wasn 't as bad as he always imagined it would be: being found out.

Actually, it wasn 't bad at all. Dazai did not mock him, not really. He was more concerned about the logistics of Chuuya 's career here in the mafia.

Still, there is more than enough time for things to worsen.

Especially if his teacher is going to be Dazai.