'Chuuya? '

Realizing he's staring, he clears his throat. 'I ' ' He could probably find an excuse for why he is here. He wants to hide the dragon egg (and hide himself.) Use all the time he has to prep for that meeting. Practice writing and reading. But all of that seems to fall flat right now, so he settles on the simple truth: 'Someone puked into my bed. '

Dazai 's head tilts. 'Oh. I 'm sorry. '

But maybe that was a wrong decision because what is Dazai supposed to do about that? Chuuya can 't '

'Lucky for you, there is more than enough space for you here. ' Dazai taps the couch before passing him to saunter to the other side of the room, opening a cabinet. 'Take the couch if you want. '

Chuuya watches him take out two glasses. 'You don 't mind? '

'Well, it 's been a while since I had someone stay over. ' Dazai

winks.

'So I might be a little rus ' '

'Shut up. ' Since Chuuya is carrying a bottle and Dazai is carrying glasses, it 's not hard to figure out what they 're for. 'Gimme that, ' he mutters, reaching out to help himself to a glass after he finds Kafka a warm, cushioned spot on the couch.

'Don 't worry, no one 's going to steal that bottle away, Chuuya. In fact, I have quite a few more in my arsenal. '

'I 'm not worried about that. I just ' I could really use a drink right now. '

Dazai doesn 't go out of his way to tease him about it. Instead he gestures for Chuuya to hold out his glass so he can pour the wine inside before doing the same for himself and settling next to Chuuya where he 's leaning against the back of the couch.

'We can buy you a new bed, ' he offers after Chuuya takes a few sips. 'You don 't have to sleep in that. '

Snorting out a dry breath, Chuuya shoots him a flat look. 'I don 't need a new bed just because someone puked in it. '

Dazai wrinkles his nose. 'But it 's unhygienic. '

'Yeah, that 's what

laundry

is for, dumbass. I 'll force Shirase to clean it up in the morning. I just didn 't want to sleep there tonight. '

Dazai purses his lips but doesn 't pushy any further than that.

Silence falls over them, but it 's neither tense nor awkward. On the contrary, it 's relaxing. Soothing. And it 's strange that out of all places and out of all people, Chuuya would find this kind of comfort here. With Dazai.

At the same time, something in his chest clumps together because this is not only fleeting but probably not real either.

'Another glass? ' Dazai asks.

Chuuya makes a face when he sees that his glass is indeed already empty. It 's not

his

fault that this is the most delicious wine he 's ever drunk. Too damn good to savor it. 'Yeah, ' he sighs and watches Dazai pour him another one. 'Can I ask you something? '

'Sure, ' Dazai says, placing the empty bottle on the floor.

'Do you think abilities are inherently evil? ' Dazai 's expression doesn 't change, still as relaxed and content as ever, yet he does not speak right away either. 'You know how you said that some flowers bloom better in the dark? Do you think the same of abilities then? ' Chuuya adds.

'I think equalizing something like an ability with inherent moral corruption is something only a simple-minded idiot would do. So to answer your question, no. '

'Okay, ' Chuuya says, fingers tightening around his glass. 'Different question. Do you think

some

abilities are evil? '

Dazai looks at him. 'That would imply they have their own consciousness. '

Chuuya meets his gaze but doesn 't speak. After all, the second question is still left unanswered.

Making a soft noise in the back of his throat, Dazai understands and seems to consider it once more. 'I once read that abilities are powered by the user 's soul and will, like an energy source of sorts. It makes sense to me. The ability is dictated by the soul that drives it. Not the other way around. '

Chuuya knows it 's the most logical conclusion ' although he hasn 't ever heard it worded like Dazai did ' but his chest falls anyway. If anyone had had a different, extraordinary take on this specific topic, it would have been someone like Dazai. And if it 's not him, then Chuuya might as just accept his fate.

To his surprise, though, Dazai is not done.

'Singularities, on the other hand ' are trickier. They can act on their own. However, they 're still not sentient beings, so can you really say they 're evil when they just do what 's in their nature? ' Dazai tilts his head this way and that. Contemplating. 'I would say that a singularity can make its host do things the host wouldn 't do, yes. That 's a thing. '

It 's like the dark, gloomy cloud that has been looming over Chuuya suddenly bursts into sparkles. He can 't help the smile on his face as much as he can 't help but look at Dazai with excitement. 'So it 's not just as black and white as good vs evil, right? Sometimes it 's not that easy! '

'I would even argue that it 's never that easy, ' Dazai replies.

Chuuya frowns then, remembering something else. Lifting the hand holding the glass, he lets

the tainted sorrow

run free, glowing bright and red and hot around him as it works to keep the glass afloat in the air. 'I know they 're not sentient beings, but don 't you think they feel that way sometimes? ' It might be stupid, but Chuuya has always felt like his ability is a companion, a dear and helpful friend, instead of simply an ability. It gets groggy when he doesn 't use it for a long time. Excited when Chuuya calls on it. Tired when it doesn 't catch a break.

For the tainted sorrow

feels real. Alive

.

And that other thing '

It feels like something living, too.

Distracted by these thoughts, Chuuya doesn 't realize that he phrases his question in a way that assumes Dazai has an ability, too. Considering he 's here in the port mafia, it certainly wouldn 't be a surprise, but it 's not a prerequisite either. When he glances to his side, though, Dazai is watching the glass with a strange, sad smile on his face.

Unsure of what to do, what to say, hell, what to feel about that expression, Chuuya moves the glass, intending to bump it against Dazai 's chest except that when it does, it just falls to the floor and shatters. All over Dazai 's feet and the neat floor.

'Woopsie. '

'I ' ' Chuuya feels his face flush in embarrassment. He can 't even control his own ability anymore? He 's

that

drunk? 'Fuck, sorry, ' he mutters, squatting down to clean up the mess he made.

'Chuuya, you don 't have to ' '

'I spilled it; of course, I have to. ' Except that Chuuya makes the mistake of looking up and seeing Dazai above him, tall and looming and still as unruffled as ever, even in the face of Chuuya 's idiotic and very uncharacteristic clumsiness. That makes the fact that Chuuya 's heart starts slamming wildly in his chest that much more illogical. It 's just a stupid broken glass and a few tiny shards in Dazai 's slacks. Chuuya 's not kneeling before him like an obedient, faithful follower ' something Dazai never made him do even though he 's the boss. Not anything else of this sort either. No need to get so fucking flustered over it.

But maybe Dazai does mind because a hand not so gently tugs at the collar of Chuuya 's shirt in the next moment. 'Get up here. '

'Ouch, ' Chuuya mutters under his breath, scratching the back of his neck.

'Just do your magic from here, ' Dazai tells him, already turning away. 'I 'll get something to clean it up. '

While waiting Chuuya picks up the pool of red liquid and pours it back into the bottle with his ability. Of course, it 's not drinkable anymore. A shame, really. Such a lovely wine, and Chuuya wasted his last glass. And for what? His ability seems to work just fine now.

A few minutes pass; Chuuya gets antsy, wondering if Dazai forgot about him. Then he remembers the flash drive in his pocket, though, and decides to use the opportunity to return it to its original place, except that when he tries to fish it out, it 's not there.

Frowning, Chuuya checks his other pockets. Empty, too.

Did he lose it? Unlikely.

So where '

Chuuya walks over to the desk, straining to hear whether Dazai is about to come back and when the office remains perfectly silent, he opens that fake box of candles again and '

The flash drive is already there.

The one that Chuuya stole from him.

He knows because they 're all differently colored, and this one was the only one in a mint-green shade.

But it 's right

there.

Which either means, Chuuya 's own memories are fucking with him, or ' Dazai somehow found out and stole it back already.

That 's when he also hears approaching footsteps, so Chuuya hurries back to the couch, albeit with a swarm of confusion buzzing inside him. Dazai comes back carrying a white bucket, blankets,

and

clothes, which he dumps on the couch. He looks the same as before, no trace of anger over stolen flashdrives, not even a hint of smugness.

'Do you have an entire storage room back there? ' Chuuya asks as he lets the pile of broken shards float into the bucket, deciding to give up on the topic of flashdrives for now unless he wants to drive himself insane.

'No, ' Dazai says with a hum, 'just my living quarters. '

'Just your ' ' Chuuya cuts himself off and shakes his head. 'How much are we talking about? Is it as big as my place? ' He wouldn 't be surprised. After all, there is an entire floor of space ', and the only thing Chuuya has seen is Dazai 's office and the hallways, although big they are not nearly enough to cover everything. He knows Gin has an office too, but he doubts it makes up the rest of the floor.

'Heh, I don 't need as much as Chuuya. It 's just a bedroom, kitchen, and bathroom. Well ' and a Jacuzzi. But that 's it. '

'I don 't need that much either, ' Chuuya feels like pointing out. 'I never asked for that penthouse. ' He would have been just fine sharing quarters with his friends as per usual. Maybe if he had, half of them wouldn 't think of him some soulless monster right now.

'But you deserve it. '

'Yeah, and what did I do to deserve something that nice? ' Chuuya wants to know,

really

wants to know.

Dazai, who is busy playing maid and spreading out the blankets over the couch, shrugs. 'I 'd say putting up with those ungrateful friends of yours is a pretty big achievement. But you can also think of it as a consolation prize for having to marry me if that makes you feel better. '

Maybe

that 's

Chuuya 's opening, even if it this discussion borders on an honest conversation about the sheep.

'They 're not ungrateful. They 're just scared. '

'Didn 't you protect them for the last ' how many years? '

He met them when he was seven.

He first discovered what he could with his ability a few months later. Still seven as far as he remembers.

'Thirteen years. '

'For the last thirteen years, ' Dazai finishes.

'Tch, it 's what everyone would have done. I had an ability that I could use to fight and defend them from shitty people. They didn 't, and they were

kids

. Nothing to be grateful for. '

'But you were a child yourself. '

'With an ability, ' Chuuya deadpans. 'Keep up, Dazai. '

'Okay, so you basically gave up your whole childhood to protect a bunch of helpless kids. Maybe to you, it seems like a given, but not everyone would have done that. I know I wouldn 't have. '

Chuuya sighs even if he actually wants to laugh because of Dazai 's touch for dramatics. 'I didn 't give up my whole childhood. My childhood was just fine. '

'Of course, you did, ' Dazai shoots back like it 's the most self-evident conclusion in the world. 'That 's why you 're so full of tension all the time. '

'Hah? '

'Look at you. You get a penthouse, and you don 't even use it properly; you just feel guilty about it. You come here, and you immediately want to work. Not only that but you want to be

perfect

at it because what would you do if you weren 't? You 're interested in something, but you don 't allow yourself to ask more questions because god forbid you like something. There is a cabinet full of wine here that you clearly like, and yet you don 't ask for more. Even your body. ' Chuuya 's breath stutters as Dazai 's fingers touch one point after another, his shoulder, his neck, and the center of his chest. 'Tense. Tense. Tense. You always had to be the responsible one when you were a child, so you never learned how to relax and have fun. You still don 't know how. '

'So what, ' Chuuya gets out through clenched teeth, 'you 're saying I should screw everything and start acting like a kid?! '

'I 'm saying that you 're allowed to let loose every once in a while, ' Dazai tells him. His smile is too understanding. Too fucking tender to not feel mocked by it. 'You don 't have to be in control all the time. Not here. Live a little. Have fun. Or god forbid, do something that

you

want for once. '

'You know, for someone who is so intent on making

me

do all his duties, you talk a lot about letting loose, ' Chuuya snaps. How is he supposed to relax

and

play the shadow-boss that Dazai wants him to be? (Not to mention that

this

is only the part of the picture that Dazai knows about ' of all the times to relax, this is not it

.

Chuuya will have time for that later someday. Whenever that is.)

'Yes, yes, but the job is not your entire life, ' Dazai retorts. 'There are other ways to let go. '

Letting go? Giving up control? Even the thought makes his heart race, knowing that a thousand things could and probably will go wrong if he stops paying attention for just one second.

'Is that how you do this every day then? ' Chuuya prompts because he 's tired of always talking about himself.

'Hey egg, ' Dazai greets Kafka and carefully places it on the coffee table before he lets himself collapse on the couch, stretching out his arms and folding them behind his neck. 'I 'm as relaxed as a mackerel fish. '

'And yet you don 't sleep. ' What about

that

is relaxing?

'Maybe that 's what keeps me so relaxed, ' Dazai says, waggling his eyebrows.

It makes Chuuya remember that tiny moment from earlier. Are the nightmares a frequent thing for him? Is that why he prefers short naps over actual sleep?

'I still doubt it 's good for your body, ' Chuuya says.

'Yes, well, what you do isn 't any better. Ain 't we a pair? '

Such striking opposites of each other that they 're almost ' similar.

That realization has Chuuya 's mind jump in all sorts of direction again, so he decides to cut it off right here and now. 'I 'm tired. Can I use your bathroom? '

'You can even use the Jacuzzi, ' Dazai calls after him as Chuuya grabs the clothes ' a black, silky yakuza with a design of pink roses. He both hopes that it 's just a spare change that Dazai had in his closet and is thankful that he had anything at all. Sleeping in jeans is something that Chuuya doesn 't miss doing at all.

'Ha, ha, ' Chuuya deadpans.

He doesn 't get any answers because he 's already through the door, entering a small, dark hallway that leads to another door, this one leading into a bedroom, just as Dazai said. It 's really not that big, smaller than Chuuya 's. The bed still looks spacious and comfortable, swallowed by all-black sheets, blankets and pillows. The things that strike out the most are the windows covering the entire wall and offering a really nice view over the city, just like the office. Chuuya wonders whether Dazai was lying when he once explained that he kept the windows shut to protect himself from any assassination attempts or whether he simply ' does not spend enough time here to bother closing them.

Still deep in thought, Chuuya almost gets a heart attack when something

moves

on the bed '

It 's not something, though. It 's a

cat!

The cat stretches out their paws and blinks lazily at Chuuya with large, round green eyes, the only thing that 's not black about them, before deciding to go back to sleep. For a moment, Chuuya is not sure what to do. Does he just

ignore

the fact that a cat is sleeping in Dazai Osamu 's bedroom?

He probably should. All he wanted was to wash his face and take a piss, but the cat just looks so fluffy and cute and '

Chuuya 's in front of the bed before he can count to three, stretching out a tentative hand to the little creature so they can smell him first. The cat does, testing the waters for a few seconds before they eventually butt their soft head against his fingers, giving him the permission to pet.

'Aren 't you a sweet, little thing? ' Chuuya whispers and sits down on the edge of the bed, utterly enamored within seconds. 'Don 't you get bored all alone in this room? Why does your owner keep you all to himself, huh? ' He knows that this isn 't just an extremely odd coincidence because of the pink collar around their neck. Well, at least, he assumes that 's proof enough that this is actually Dazai 's cat. God knows cats can be pretty invasive animals that don 't care about anyone 's boundaries ' as long as it 's not theirs.

Apparently, the cat is pretty trusting since they get up and climb on his lap, starting to knead his thighs as they purr contently and let Chuuya scratch their chin.

'I love you, ' Chuuya declares. 'You are the cutest, most adorable kitty I have ever seen. '

They do stop making biscuits at some point and just settle down on his legs, still purring, so what else is there to do but keep petting her? Chuuya 's not a

monster

. It does make him lose track of time though, so he is not sure how long it 's been when he hears the sound of foot steps.

Chuuya sheepishly lifts his gaze to see Dazai lean against the wall, folding his arms over his chest. He doesn 't look surprised to find him here. Only amused. 'And here I was thinking you actually took my advice and decided to check out the Jacuzzi. '

'Fuck the Jacuzzi, ' Chuuya murmurs, stroking the cat 's head. 'Found something a thousand times better. This

is

your cat, right? '

'I guess you could say that she is mine. '

'So what 's her name? '

'Jiji. '

'Aww,

Jiji ' '

At the sound of her name, her ears twitch a bit, but that 's the only sign she gives of hearing anything. 'She 's so

cute

. '

'I 'm surprised she even let you touch her. It took her months to stop hissing at me. Gin is the only one that she likes, but men ' are kind of icky. '

'You took her in? '

Dazai shrugs. 'Heard her howling under a dumpster. It was distracting me from my mission. '

'You know, I 'm starting to think that the whole

'you never leave the building

' thing was just a lie you made up so people wouldn 't try to find you outside. '

Pushing away from the wall, Dazai chuckles. 'That was before I took over this dump ' but it 's a marvelous idea, Chuuya. I like the way you think. '

Chuuya rolls his eyes. Although he can 't help but remember what Dazai said about the sheep earlier:

I wouldn 't.

And yet, here Dazai is, crouching down in front of the

stray cat

that he took in. Maybe they 're not so different, after all.

'Doesn 't she get antsy being locked away here all day? ' Chuuya asks quietly. He 's not a cat, but he definitely wouldn 't like it.

'I know you think of me as the villain, but I 'm not

that

horrible. ' It 's supposed to be a joke, Chuuya thinks. It sounds like that, at least. 'She has plenty of opportunities to destroy my office, but I bring her over to Gin when someone comes around. Or else, people would get stupid ideas. '

Who knew that the fearsome head of the port mafia is co-parenting a stray cat with his secretary?

'You did not have to hide her from me, you know. I love cats, and Jiji is precious. '

'I 'm not hiding her now. '

'Yes, because I found her, ' Chuuya points out.

Dazai 's eye glimmers as he strokes his cat 's chin with his nails. 'Well, maybe I just wanted you in my bedroom. '

Narrowing his eyes, Chuuya stares him down for a few seconds before clicking his tongue. 'Very funny. '

For a while, they just sit there ' well, Dazai is, more or less, on the ground ' and pamper the cat with pets and ear scratches. Jiji purs so hard that she even starts drooling. It 's both gross and adorable.

'Okay, princess. ' Dazai pokes Jiji 's belly eventually. 'Leave Chuuya alone now. He needs his beauty rest. '

But Chuuya only pets her harder. 'Stop it. Leave her alone. '

Dazai raises his brows. 'Are you really willing to give up on sleep to pet the cat? '

'Yeah? ' Chuuya answers like it 's not obvious already. 'I don 't care about sleep. '

'Sure you don 't. '

Dazai sounds so convinced that he does that it makes Chuuya want to argue even harder because he really doesn 't. Sleep is nice, but sleep also means losing precious time of the day that could be used for something more productive. The association has stuck up to this day, even when he doesn 't have to scour the streets for food anymore.

'Wake me up at five in the morning, ' he says with a shrug, 'see if I care. '

Dazai opens his mouth, then closes it again. For some reason, he looks kind of bummed out by that. Maybe it 's just the wine, though, making Chuuya see things that aren 't really there. And who is he anyway to believe he can read someone like Dazai?

'You know what, you might as well sleep here, ' Dazai finally says as he gets to his feet.

Chuuya 's eyes widen in horror. 'Hah? '

With Dazai 's hands in the pockets of his slacks, he sounds completely nonchalant when he tells him, 'I wouldn 't dare to separate you two. '

'It 's all right, ' Chuuya quickly says, though he still doesn 't stop petting Jiji. Not yet, but he

will.

'I don 't have to sleep here. Really. '

'Relax, I haven 't touched this bed in a week. And I change the sheets every few days. '

It 's not because of that. (Although it is nice to know that Chuuya 's not currently sitting on sheets that weren 't involved in god knows what Dazai is up to in his free time ' or alone time.) It 's the idea of sleeping in Dazai Osamu 's bed in itself that is insane.

Chuuya opens his mouth, but just like that, Dazai says, 'so good night, ' and is already out of the room, leaving Chuuya staring after him.

After he manages to get his tongue back, he glances down at Jiji and shakes his head. 'Your owner is crazy. And really confusing. '

So incredibly confusing that it makes Chuuya 's head spin every time he is around him.

He does not intend on spending the night here, but he does let himself fall back just to test out the mattress and look at the ceiling.

Chuuya is very surprised to find

stars

there. Not real ones, of course, but some kind of ceiling decor that he has never seen before. They almost look like they 're glowing, although they 're too dim to do so. Maybe they used to?

Lying there, he wonders if Dazai put them there or if the stars were already here before he became the boss. He wonders what kind of person would decorate their ceiling with glowing stars. He wonders if it was perhaps a child.

Perhaps he wonders too much, especially lying in such a comfortable bed with a cat in his lap and a chest full of sweet, warm French wine. Because one thought turns heavy, then the other, and soon it feels like Chuuya no longer controls gravity but like gravity controls him as it presses him down, down, down.

***

Something

loud

and

moist

tugs him out of sleep the next morning. Chuuya blinks his eyes open only to see the damn cat headbutting his armpits and making odd, funny noises.

'Oi, ' he mutters, trying to shove her away as gently as possible because she is a treasure, but that fucking tickles. 'Stop it. Stop trying to ' ' Finally, he sits up, and only then does he notice that he is

still

in Dazai 's bedroom, still in his bed,

and

under his sheets. 'Fucking hell. '

Judging by the way his pants uncomfortably press against his belly, he wasn 't sleepy enough to undress, but still. He insisted he wouldn 't sleep here, and here he fucking is, stretched out like a starfish as if it was his own damn bed! And he must have even taken off his shoes last night because only his white socks peek up from under the blanket!

(In Dazai Osamu 's bed!)

(Dazai ')

He hurries to get up, Jiji following him off the bed, and does a 180 in front of the door that leads to the office because he decides to go to the bathroom first. Since he clearly got distracted last night, this is the first time seeing it. Dark-themed, modern and petite, just like the bedroom and the kitchen ' well, except for the Jacuzzi overlooking the skyline. That just screams

mafia boss.

After he 's finished, he heads outside, almost stumbling over Jiji in the process because she follows him around like he 's her mother hen. Not that he minds, but she looks like she wants something to eat, and he 's still a bit groggy, and not in the mood to rummage through Dazai 's kitchen.

Chuuya will just ask Jiji 's owner to give her something to eat, slip out of his office and go home to change, and everyone will be happy.

Except he never even anticipated Dazai not to be alone when he comes out of

his

bedroom.

It 's just Gin. The two of them apparently having breakfast together.

But the way it must look for him to strut out of here '

'Good Morning, Chuuya ~ '

Chuuya scratches his arm as he slowly approaches the two of them.

Gin acknowledges him with a shy smile, but they don 't really linger on him either.

'Hi, ' he croaks out, his voice thick with sleep.

Jiji trots over to Dazai and jumps on his lap, demanding that he share his food with her. And Dazai seems all too willing to offer her a piece with his chopsticks. Right until '

'If she has diarrhea again, I 'm not going to be the one cleaning it up, ' Gin says flatly.

Dazai betrays his cat and narrowly avoids feeding her. 'My apologies, Jiji, but for such a small creature, you can be really stinky, and I have a sensitive nose. '

'Um, ' Chuuya clears his throat, 'what time is it? '

'Eight in the morning, ' Dazai provides as he gets up and brushes past him, probably to feed his cat.

Chuuya 's stomach growls as he lets his gaze sway over the food on the desk. He should probably eat something as well, but if his apartment already looked terrible last night, then it probably will look like hell today. Yet he doesn 't feel like he should take up more of Dazai 's ' things than he already has, so he gives Gin a nod, trying not to cringe when he thinks about what possible reason one has to sleep in someone 's very personal, intimate bedroom, and goes to grab the dragon egg. Kafka is back on the couch and surrounded by pillows. That must have been Dazai 's doing.

'Nakahara-san! ' That 's Gin. Chuuya looks over his shoulder, blinking. 'I 'm going to the gym today, and I could use a sparring partner. If you are still interested and are free ' you could join me? '

'Oh, ' he says dumbly. Then he remembers to nod. 'Sure. That sounds great. '

Not only has Chuuya been planning to check out the gym here for a while now, but he could use the physical exertion as well. There is this painfully familiar feeling of rippling energy trying to break out of his skin, and if he doesn 't do something to keep it under control, it will only grow more restless. More demanding.

'Meet me there in an hour. Is that okay? ' Gin asks.

Chuuya smirks. 'Perfect. '

His excitement wanes considerably in the elevator, but when the doors slide open, and Chuuya is fully prepared to get hit with the smell of cheap vodka, excess sweat, and whatever else his friends were up to last night, the only thing that greets him is the sight of his

clean

apartment. His nose even detects a hint of vanilla and lemongrass in the air.

Puzzled, Chuuya walks through the living room and looks around. It 's empty, but his friends must have actually bothered to clean up after themselves. When he enters his bedroom, his sheets have been changed too. How the hell did they even know where to find all those things?

To be honest, he doesn 't care. Chuuya just kicks off his pants, tosses his shirt aside, and steps into the shower as happy as a lark. Because this small but important gesture means that sheep aren 't completely irresponsible. They

do

care.

***

Chuuya has been to a fair share of gyms in his life; he pretended to do trial sessions even though he knew he would never become a member, and broke into a few at night when the employees weren 't looking too closely, but he has never been to one as someone who actually is allowed to be there. He 's been avoiding it so far because it 's still the mafia 's, and the entire point of all their plans is to leave eventually, right? Not exploit all the luxuries it offers. But ' if the sheep can throw parties and drink, Chuuya thinks he is allowed to work out every once in a while. And maybe Dazai made a point when he told him to find a way to let loose once in a while. Working out

is

relaxing. It 's the best method to release tension and stress.

Needless to say, Chuuya 's excited when he enters the gym, the smell of sweat and steel welcoming him.

It 's

huge.

That 's the first thing he notices.

Different than a normal gym,

is the second. There are the usual rows and rows of sleek-black machines and cardio equipment and then there are the weapons, the faceless mannequins with targets on their bodies and the state-of-the-art fight simulations. Shimmering silhouettes running and dissolving into nothing when a knife pierces them. This feels more like a military training center than a gymnasium. Then again, this is the port mafia they're talking about. He 's still taking it all in, making mental notes of all the things he wants to check out later when he sees Gin weave their way through the gym in a plain black tracksuit.

'You should warm up first, do some stretches, ' they say instead of a greeting before nodding at one of the doors. 'The sparring area is over there. I 'll be waiting for you. '

'Sounds like a plan, ' Chuuya replies.

He 's never been much of a runner but aside from a few basic stretches to loosen his muscles, the treadmill sounds like the easiest and fastest way to get into it. As soon as he picks up the pace, lungs working as his feet hit the treadmill over and over, his body seems to agree. The jittery live energy inside him howling with its fangs wide open, howling but seeping out of him in the shape of the drops of sweat that roll over his forehead and chest.

There are days when this is all it takes: powering himself out until Chuuya stops feeling

it

. Other times, most often than not, it 's not as simple as working out or using

for the tainted sorrow

. He could run a hundred miles and still feel a gaping hole in his chest craving more, something more substantial than this, something more destructive and powerful, and when physical exertion is all that Chuuya has to offer, that thing gets angry. It demands carnage. Death. Pure annihilation. It wants to be used. Not kept inside.

He always ends up like this then: lungs on fire, mind a glorious white canvas of fog, and sweat pouring down his back like a waterfall. It still doesn 't feel like quite enough, like he won 't be able to outrun whatever gaping hole has taken possession of him no matter how hard and fast his feet hit the ground, but it feels good nonetheless. Better than standing still.

He only slows down when Gin appears in front of them, their brows raising quietly until Chuuya presses the button that will allow him to walk it out.

'I said to warm up, not power yourself out into oblivion, ' Gin remarks dryly.

Chuuya breathes out a wheezing huff, his throat dry from dehydration. 'I 'll still kick your ass if that 's what you 're worried about. '

Judging by Gin 's expression, they think he is full of shit. Maybe he is. He 's never seen them fight, so he might be in for a surprise. Then again, he knows what he 's capable of, how he survived all these years on the streets, and what kind of limits he can push his body to. Maybe they 're the one in for a surprise.

Gin takes Chuuya to the sparring area, equipped with mats and a wall full of weapons to choose from that makes his eyes nearly bulge out with happiness. 'All these, ' he murmurs, 'just for us? '

Nodding, Gin grabs the bo staff and tosses one of them over to him. 'I use these when I train with someone for the first time. '

Fair enough. The staff is basically a long, hardwood stick, he thinks to himself as his fingers wrap around it. Even though Chuuya has no doubts that you could land a few serious and painful blows with it, it 's by far the safest option for sparring.

'Have you ever used them? '

'One or two times. ' Back when the sheep mostly stayed in Suribachi city, there was this elderly lady who had used to be a martial artist. She detested their guts, complaining that they were too loud, too troublesome, and too ambitious for a pack of kids in the slums. But she was also bored and ended up, more or less, trying to teach them some 'decent ' fighting skills instead of the wild, unmannered fighting that they had to show for. That was the first and only time Chuuya ever held a staff. Having his fists and his ability, he never thought he 'd actually need it.

'Hold it like ' yes, like that. ' Gin takes a few steps back then, their hand mirroring Chuuya 's as it 's wrapped high around the staff. 'I attack. You block. Good? '

Chuuya has barely finished his nod when they lunge as quick and effortless as a bolt of lightning, with a second hand taking hold of the staff and aiming it straight at him in a vertical line. He steps forward, blocks it. The rattle of wood against wood echoes through the room. Gin curves one arm, tries to go for his middle. Chuuya 's upper body bends to stop the blow. They retreat only to strike again, putting so much force behind it this time that Chuuya feels it in his bones when their staffs collide. It 's a rapid-fire succession of attacking and countering, attacking and countering, Chuuya 's ears ringing with the sounds they make each time.

Gin, on the other hand, is a silent shadow of death on their feet. Their steps are soundless, face solemn, but every movement is clean, precise, and strategic even. While Chuuya in no way lacks stamina or strength, he ties himself into a spiderweb of reckless defensiveness as he blocks their strikes again and again. He uses his intuition, his body, his emotions even, propelling him forward even when his arms get tired, but they use their mind, and it 's a deadly advantage. This is a dance, and

Gin

is the one leading it.

Sparring or not, Chuuya 's teeth grit, and with the next blow that clatters against his staff, he pushes forward instead, going in for the attack himself. Gin blocks it just as effortlessly as when they 're on the offensive. Then they use Chuuya 's frustration to knock the staff entirely out of his hands, and it clatters to the ground a few feet away.

'Oi ' ' he breathes out, shaking his head. 'Rude much? '

'You 're the one who got impatient and changed the rules, ' Gin replies. There are few droplets of sweat on their forehead, but they barely show any sign of heaving lungs.

Chuuya grunts under his breath as he goes to pick up his staff again. 'Sorry, got a bit too competitive. You 're really good. '

'I had a good teacher. '

'Not Dazai, right? ' Chuuya asks and hopes for a confirmation. There have to be limits to a person 's talents. One single man can 't be perf ' can 't be

good at every single thing in the world.

The corner of Gin 's mouth quirks up. 'No. But the boss can handle himself in a fight just fine. '

Chuuya 's lips taste like salt and sweat when they flatten into a line.

Of course, he is.

'If you don 't mind me asking, ' he starts after taking a few heartfelt gulps of water. 'Why do you waste your time playing secretary? '

'...I like my job. '

'But you also like this, don 't you? '

'Who says my job doesn 't involve a little bit of this... ' They step back into the starting stance with a glint in their eyes. '... as well? ' Chuuya mirrors them and prepares to block whatever might come his way. 'The boss ' ways aren 't exactly conventional. I assumed that

you

would have noticed this by now. '

He blinks. There 's something odd about the way Gin says that. A strange pitch in their tone that he has heard somewhere else before.

'Strike or block, ' Gin tells him, and their feet snap forward, one knee lifting as they attack.

This time, Chuuya isn 't caught off guard by their speed. He does realize what felt off about their comment, a

you, out of all people

that went unsaid, and he has an idea what they mean with it too because Yuan used the same tone on him yesterday. His chest puffs with the irritated exhale that rumbles out of it.

'I only slept there because my own bed was compromised, ' he snaps as he blocks another blow and doubles it down with a strike himself, trying to slip out of his defensive position as fast as possible.

Gin counters that one easily. The second blow is the one that makes their brows furrow ever so slightly, even if only for a single second. 'I never said you didn 't, ' they shoot back in reply as Chuuya exploits that fleeting moment of surprise for all that it 's worth, aiming for every blind spot that he finds with speed but also brute force.

'You

implied

it. ' Saying that he puts them into a defensive position would probably be a slight exaggeration because Gin is obviously more than competent, but that serious expression of theirs does bleed into a short-lived glare at one point, and he takes that as a victory even if he is the one with the butt of the stick pointing at his throat at the end.

'You spend a lot of time with the boss because you work together, ' Gin finally says and drops the staff. '

That 's

the only thing I implied. Whatever you meant is only up to you. '

'I didn 't mean anything either, ' he says with a huff. 'Just clarified it in case you... y 'know. '

Gin only squints.

Drawing a breath and releasing it before he speaks, Chuuya throws up his hands. 'Whatever. Forget it. '

'You brought it up, ' Gin points out dryly.

Chuuya rolls his eyes and channels the licking flames of the slumbering, starved beast inside him into his posture and hands instead.

'And now I 'm ending it. Let 's go

again. '