October, 'Six Years & Nine Months Since the Release of Corruption

After a week and a half of good behavior, Dazai is finally allowed to leave the office and accompany Atsushi to an interview on a talk show. Kunikida still threatens him before he goes, going on and on about the ADA 's image and focusing on music rather than drama and so many other boring things.

The interview goes fine, Atsushi is slowly but surely becoming more confident. He still hesitates to accept compliments and downplays his talent, but he 's a far cry from the shy kid Dazai met seven months ago. He also handles questions about his rivalry with Akutagawa with ease, even showing a bolder and slightly cocky side while declaring his isn 't scared of him.

Dazai practically snorts into his fruit infused water (that still just tastes like regular water, but costs more). He congratulates Atsushi on a job well done. They 're on their way back to the ADA when a couple of press waiting outside the talk show 's studio stop them.

It 's clear they were intending to question Atsushi, but once they see Dazai they edge closer to him rather than his white haired 'prot 'g '. They focus on Atsushi first, asking him light questions about his music and personal life. Then finally one of them is bold enough to ask the question they 're all dying to report back on.

'Dazai, recently Chuuya Nakahara claimed that your joint single

Corruption

was overrated and that he never wanted to collaborate with you again. Do you have a response? ' asks a blonde woman, expression almost comically serious. The whole group is tense, waiting for his answer. He can see Atsushi trying to subtly shake his head no at him out of the corner of his eye.

Dazai has a lot of different things he could and would like to say. His first would be to correct the journalist that Chuuya had actually said he would prefer to never hear Dazai 's voice for the rest of his fucking life, more for their reaction than anything else. He also wanted to say

no comment

, which would have the satisfactory result of pleasing Kunikida while also taunting Chuuya with his indifference.

But indifference didn 't seem adequate enough when Dazai considers how things had gone the last time he 'd seen the slug. So he goes for the jugular.

'I know how much

Corruption

means to so many people, ' says Dazai, speaking with a passion that journalists always eat up, placing a hand over his heart. He can practically feel the reporters ' energy spiking as he talks. Atsushi gives up on being subtle and covers both of his eyes with his hands. 'I was appalled to hear Chuuya try to diminish it like that. He 's just bitter because any new music he puts out is always going to pale in comparison to

Corruption

. Chuuya Nakahara has peaked, and it 's causing him to lash out. He doesn 't know how to write real or true music anymore. '

Honestly, Kunikida should know better by now.

April 29, Nine Months Until the Release of Corruption

'Chuuya, I am

very

disappointed in you, ' says Kouyou from her spot next to him at the table of his extravagant birthday dinner.

Naturally, Dazai had told everyone it was his birthday the second Chuuya had gone into the bathroom. By the time he 'd showered and come out his phone had over twenty messages wishing him a happy birthday from various PMR employees. Dazai had left the room so Chuuya couldn 't yell at him.

He 'd endured a full day of being fussed over. It was driving him crazy. He 'd never been one to celebrate his birthday. Holidays, birthdays, all of that stuff hadn 't been part of his life in years. Even with The Sheep they 'd never made a big deal of things. Chuuya had gotten half a six-pack of shitty wine coolers as a present last year, and honestly he 'd counted it as a pretty great gift.

Kouyou didn 't feel the same and had cancelled her entire evening to rent out a lavish restaurant for everyone on the tour crew to celebrate. The food was fantastic, the attention not so much.

Dazai had also been keeping his distance the whole day. He 'd been mysteriously absent while Chuuya was dragged around. If someone had asked Chuuya what a day without Dazai would be like he would have answered peaceful, but instead he was just paranoid about what he was up to. He 'd even sat on the opposite end of the room for dinner. Every time Chuuya tried to make eye contact Dazai conveniently looked away.

'I 'm sorry, Kouyou, ' repeats Chuuya for what felt like the hundredth time that day. 'I 've just never been much of a birthday person. '

'I don 't care about that. ' Kouyou leans in so they won 't be overheard. 'I 'd rather have a more intimate celebration as well, but when you cancel all of your scheduled events for the day you aren 't given a lot of choices. So next time give me more of a heads up. '

Chuuya laughs under his breath. 'Sure thing, Kouyou. '

'I 'll get you a real present once we get home, ' she says, pulling back and taking a sip from her wine glass (that she is pointedly not letting Chuuya have any of).

'You really don 't have to get me anything, ' he replies. He picks at the food in front of him, not really hungry after being treated to all kinds of food throughout the day.

'Nonsense, ' Kouyou dismisses, flicking her hand. 'I 'd buy you a car if you knew how to drive. '

'Wasn 't high on my list of priorities, ' says Chuuya, just managing not to roll his eyes. He was here to make music, he didn 't even have a learner 's permit.

'Well, perhaps it should have been, ' says Kouyou, rather judgmentally.

'I 've never seen you drive anywhere once. ' Chuuya frowns at her, pointing his chopsticks in accusation.

'Yes, but I could if I needed to, it 's called self-sufficiency. ' Kouyou tilts her head up, tone somewhere between confidence and arrogance (the Kouyou Ozaki sweet spot).

'I defer to your wisdom. ' Normally Kouyou doesn 't let him get away with sarcasm, but either it being his birthday or her good mood gives him a free pass. She does give him a disapproving look though.

The rest of dinner passes eventually, with more food and toasts. Chuuya makes small talk with everyone around him, accepting birthday wishes and meaningless compliments easily. He wishes he could just go back to his room and be alone, listen to music or maybe beat Dazai in whatever new game the asshole was obsessed with this week. Either would be better than having to put on a show like this.

Chuuya is saying his (hopefully) last round of thank you 's and goodbyes to the girls who do Kouyou 's hair and makeup outside the restaurant when someone grabs his left arm and pulls him away in a tight grip. He isn 't surprised at all to find Dazai to be the one clutching his arm, fake smiling at the women.

'Sorry, ladies, ' says Dazai, fake sweetness in his voice to match the smile, 'I 'm going to have to steal Chuuya away. '

Chuuya rolls his eyes but lets himself be dragged away, waving farewell behind him. The girls wave back, annoyingly charmed by Dazai 's act judging by their smiles and laughter.

'Let go of me, ' demands Chuuya as they get farther away. He digs his heels into the sidewalk to force Dazai to stop. They 're standing at the end of the block the restaurant was on, with swarms of people moving all around them. He tugs his arm out of Dazai 's grip. 'What do you want? '

'The pleasure of your company, ' answers Dazai, pulling out his phone and typing out a message.

Chuuya almost snaps back

then where have you been all day

, but catches himself.

'Seriously, what do you want? ' asks Chuuya again. 'It 's been a long day, and I 'm not in the mood for your shit. ' He 's been annoyed at Dazai all day for making him go through all this birthday crap, and he 's even more annoyed with him for ditching him, which makes him annoyed at himself for caring.

'Stop being so nasty or I won 't give you your birthday present. ' Dazai puts his phone away and turns to scan the area around them.

'

You

got me a present? ' Chuuya says, disbelief clear on his face and in his voice. He hadn 't expected that.

'Well, not really, ' admits Dazai. 'You didn 't exactly give me a lot of time to work with, short stack. '

'Could you maybe not call me short on my actual birthday? ' asks Chuuya, less hostile than he was before. He 's curious enough about what Dazai has come up with to go along with it.

'I just realized I 'm never going to hear the glorious words

I 'm fifteen, I 'm still growing

come from your mouth again. I 'm distraught, ' says Dazai, doing a horrible imitation of what is supposed to be him with a high pitched voice. He punches Dazai in the arm for that.

'Temper, temper, chibi, ' says Dazai, not bothered by the punch. He must spot whoever he was looking for because he starts waving someone towards them. 'Now we can get to your gift."

'You got me a person? ' asks Chuuya, giving Dazai an unimpressed look.

A boy who looks slightly older than they are approaches them. He has dark red hair and is wearing a suit, although his tie is loose and his shirt is wrinkled and untucked. Chuuya doesn 't know many people their age who wear full suits, so he assumes he works for PMR. He looks slightly familiar, but Chuuya doesn 't think they 've ever spoken before.

'How is it that you 're older than me, yet such an idiot? ' asks Dazai as the other boy reaches them. 'Chuuya, meet Michizou Tachihara. Tachihara, this is my dog, Chuuya. '

Chuuya punches him in the same arm even harder this time. Then he reaches out a hand to greet Tachihara, who watches the exchange with a nervous smile. 'Chuuya Nakahara, nice to meet you. '

Tachihara doesn 't hesitate to take the hand, smile becoming more relaxed. 'Yeah, I 've heard of you. You 're that singer, Kouyou 's boy. '

'Tachihara is taking us to the bar, ' says Dazai. He presents the destination brightly, smiling more genuinely that he had at the hair and makeup ladies but just as annoyingly.

'We 're not going to get into a bar, ' says Chuuya. 'I 'm only sixteen, and you 're still fifteen. And how old are you anyway? ' He directs the question to Tachihara.

'Eighteen, ' answers Tachihara. 'Which is the legal drinking age in China, not that they 're very strict about that here. Especially for Americans working for a large foreign record company. '

Dazai waves a hand, gesturing

I told you so.

Chuuya rolls his eyes, but doesn 't argue. Tachihara takes this in stride, starting to lead the way to whatever bar he and Dazai must have agreed on.

Chuuya and Dazai fall in step behind him. Chuuya catches hold of Dazai 's wrist to keep him beside him, keeping his voice loud enough for Dazai to hear him over the busy street but low enough that Tachihara doesn 't hear him. 'How do you know this guy? '

'I don 't really, ' answers Dazai, also keeping his voice down. 'He works in the sound department. I just met him the other week. '

'Why do we need him to get into the bar? ' asks Chuuya, confused at Dazai wanting to bring someone with them. After considering it, Chuuya was sure Dazai could weasel his way into the bar without assistance. Chuuya had never witnessed him even have a friendly interaction with another PMR employee, let alone ask them to spend time with him outside of work.

'The problem is not getting into the bar, ' Dazai replies back, eyes full of amusement. 'The problem is getting home from the bar while drunk and not able to speak any Mandarin. I mean, can you imagine calling Hirotsu to come pick us up? '

Chuuya could imagine it very well, and it was not a pretty image. 'So, he speaks Mandarin? '

'He does indeed. He thinks he 's our babysitter for the night, so let 's allow him to continue thinking that. '

They share a subtle smirk, but both look innocent when Tachihara turns back to them. 'What are you two whispering about? '

'Chuuya was thanking me for such a thoughtful birthday present! ' lies Dazai easily. Chuuya has to fight off a snort.

Tachihara either believes him or doesn 't care enough to call him out. 'It 's just up here. '

Tachihara gestures to a building that doesn 't stick out from the others around it. Chuuya can 't read the neon signs that spell out the places ' names, although he does read the ones that say beer and spirits. He follows behind Tachihara and Dazai as they enter, music hitting his ears from the doorway, loud enough that you had to raise your voice to be heard.

Chuuya has been drunk plenty of times in his life. Drinking had been like a game with The Sheep, a thrilling way to prove they didn 't follow the rules. But it had always involved buying from shady older guys Shirase know or Yuan swiping liquor that her parents wouldn 't miss. They 'd only drank in basements and back alleys, never out in public.

They 'd certain never gone to a bar. Chuuya isn 't sure what he expected one would be like. His first impressions are loud, bright, and smoky. All around them people are smoking cigarettes, and the smell and feel irritates Chuuya 's nose and throat right away. Kouyou would absolutely despise a place like this.

Still, it 's exciting. There 's a mix of people there. Some people a little older than them are playing pool and darts on the other side of the bar. Middle-aged men are gathered around the booths and tables, one of the major sources of the smoke. Clusters of girls are everywhere, crowding the bar, watching the darts games, near the bathrooms. It 's not so full as to be uncomfortable, but there isn 't a lot of space available.

Dazai takes the lead and brings them to an unoccupied high table near the entrance a little further from the action. Chuuya follows, looking around. He doesn 't recognize the music or understand the lyrics, but he likes the flow of it at least. He 's mostly used to having so many conversations going on around him that he can 't understand at all after being on tour this long.

Tachihara is also looking around curiously, this must be his first time in a place like this too. Dazai is the only one who seems uninterested by their surroundings, but that was typical. He at least didn 't look outright displeased at anything like he often did when they were out.

'I 'll get us the first round, ' announces Tachihara, raising his voice a bit. Chuuya nods and smiles at him, Dazai just nods. Tachihara enters the mob of people to approach the bar.

'So what do you think, chibi? ' asks Dazai, speaking up and leaning in to be heard. 'Is it everything you 'd dreamed it would be? '

Chuuya laughs a little, eyes going to all the bright lights that somehow didn 't keep the place from being dim and all the people yelling and drinking. 'It 's certainly something. '

Dazai 's expression doesn 't change, but Chuuya catches on that his answer wasn 't what Dazai was looking for. Chuuya quickly adds, 'It 's ten times better than that stuffy fucking restaurant. '

That brings more life to Dazai 's eyes. 'Chibi is so uncultured. That place was one of the top restaurants in the city. '

'I know you hated it too, ' says Chuuya. Dazai doesn 't deny it.

'I was surprised by Kouyou 's choice. I would have thought she knew you better. ' Dazai looks faintly smug.

The implication that Dazai knows more about his preferences than Kouyou doesn 't sit right with Chuuya. He jumps in to defend her. 'She had to plan it at the last minute. It wasn 't her idea. I would have preferred to not have anything at all, but you ruined that when you opened your big fucking mouth. '

'I was wondering when you would bring that up, ' says Dazai, not looking the least bit apologetic. 'Although I don 't get why you were trying to hide it. Since when do you shy away from attention? You know, once you start releasing music you 're not going to have any privacy. '

'So you 're preparing me for that? ' Chuuya scoffs.

'I saved you the headache you would get from dealing with Kouyou and Hirotsu once they found out you kept it from them, ' says Dazai. It was an infuriatingly good point. Although Chuuya didn 't think that was why he did it.

He stops from arguing more when he notices Tachihara approaching.

'Here we go, ' says Tachihara when he reaches them. He places the three glasses he 's balancing carefully in his hands onto the table. Chuuya thanks him as he takes one. Dazai stares into the glass he grabs with something like trepidation.

'I didn 't really understand the different types of beer they had, so I just got what the guy ahead of me ordered, ' says Tachihara. He gestures the glass he picked up forward, and Chuuya clinks his glass against his.

'Cheers, ' says Chuuya before taking his first sip. He 's never been much of a beer person. He wasn 't exaggerating when he thought shitty wine coolers were a good gift. He tries to be grateful though, even if the taste isn 't exactly pleasant.

'This is disgusting, ' declares Dazai, having taken a large gulp of his own. He scrapes his tongue against his teeth dramatically.

'It 's local, ' says Tachihara with a shrug. He takes a long drag from his own, evidently not bothered.

Chuuya watches Dazai take another much smaller drink and wince as it goes down. 'Have you ever drank before? '

'Of course I have, ' answers Dazai, voice confident and nothing indicating he 's lying. Chuuya isn 't quite sure if he believes him.

There 's a long pause while they all sip their drinks in silence.

'So Dazai says you work in the sound department, ' says Chuuya to Tachihara, deciding to try to be friendly. It was the least he could do after dragging him here just to use him.

'Yeah, it 's something more to pass the time. I 'm actually a drummer, but I 'm in between projects right now. You can 't really play unless you 've got a band with drumming. I was getting stir crazy in L.A. waiting for them to assign me to a group and this opportunity came up. ' Tachihara shrugs. 'I figured it would be a fun way to pass the time. '

Chuuya nods along, noticing Dazai 's thoroughly unimpressed look. He kicks him, but it ends up bumping the whole table. The only drink that spills is Dazai 's because it 's still mostly full.

'Keep your tiny feet to yourself, ' whines Dazai. He wipes his now sticky hands on his suit jacket.

'So, uh, how long have you two known each other? ' asks Tachihara, looking back and forth between them a little uneasily.

'Too fucking long, ' says Chuuya at the same time as Dazai says, 'Seven months. '

Tachihara just nods and takes another long drink from his glass. Chuuya does the same, figuring nursing the drink wasn 't going to make it taste any better.

Tachihara and Chuuya try to make small talk about the places they 've been to on tour, but it 's awkward at best. Dazai just plays around with his glass, not even attempting to look like he 's having a good time.

Tachihara offers to go get more drinks once his and Chuuya 's are low, and Chuuya feels relieved as he walks away. Maybe they can leave after they finish their second drinks. That wouldn 't be too rude, would it? Why the hell did older people like bars so much? Chuuya literally feels like he 's been chain-smoking, and the music isn 't even that good.

'This place is boring, ' says Dazai. And from Dazai 's expression he knows Chuuya feels the same way. He leans forward on the table, eyes full of mischief. 'Let 's make it interesting. '

'How? ' Chuuya raises his eyebrows in a clear challenge.

Dazai scans the room. Then he lights up as he thinks of something. 'How many drinks do you think I can swipe from other people before I get caught? '

Chuuya knows that it 's a bad idea, but he can 't deny that he 'd like to see Dazai try. He takes a look around, biting his lip in consideration. 'No more than three. '

'We 'll see about that, ' says Dazai. 'But you have to keep up. Every drink I finish off, you do the same. And you have to keep Tachihara occupied. '

'What? Why? ' Chuuya scowls at Dazai even as he 's already focusing on picking his first victims. 'How am I supposed to do that? '

'I don 't know, do your little talented musical lost puppy thing everyone at PMR seems to fall all over themselves for, ' says Dazai distractedly. 'If you 'll excuse me, I 'm rather thirsty. I think I 'll go get myself a drink. '

Chuuya glares at him as he walks away, but quickly tries to clear his face as Tachihara gets back. He places down the glasses on the table.

'Where 's Dazai? ' asks Tachihara, luckily missing seeing him approaching a group of girls on their right.

'Bathroom, ' lies Chuuya automatically. 'Thanks. ' He grabs a beer and tilts the glass towards Tachihara before taking a small sip. He 'll have to work to match Dazai without looking suspicious, which was probably the bastard 's plan.

'So drumming, ' says Chuuya, watching Dazai gesture at the girls dramatically in an attempt at conversation. He barely avoids rolling his eyes. 'How did you get into that? '

'My brother taught me, ' says Tachihara, launching into a story that Chuuya half pays attention to.

Chuuya keeps Tachihara talking, asking about what kind of music he likes to play and his favorite artists. He likes him a lot more when he lists Kouyou as one of them. Out of the corner of his eye he watches Dazai skillfully swipe a drink from the girls he was talking to, raising it towards Chuuya before downing it.

Chuuya finishes his own glass, trying not to make a face at the taste. 'Goes down easier all at once, ' he says to Tachihara 's questioning look.

Chuuya pulls Dazai 's first unfinished beer in front of him, trying to appear casual. It 's actually fairly easy to talk to Tachihara now that they 're alone, he seems like a genuinely nice guy. Chuuya almost feels a little bad for messing with him. But it 's hard to keep feeling bad when he has to hide a snort into his glass as Dazai steals another drink from a couple after taking a picture for them. Fuck, he 's already having more fun than he 's had the entire day.

Chuuya ignores Dazai flashing him two fingers triumphantly. Chuuya tries to go slower drinking this beer, which is disgusting because it 's older and therefore warmer. 'Sorry, what did you ask? '

'How you ended up working for PMR, ' repeats Tachihara, louder this time, thinking Chuuya must not have heard him.

'I was scouted, ' answers Chuuya flatly. His resentment has gone down slightly, but it definitely hadn 't disappeared. He brings the second beer Tachihara had bought for Dazai in front of him. 'I used to play keyboard for a band called The Sheep. '

'No fucking way, ' says Tachihara excitedly. 'That local pop band? They just put out an album a couple months ago, right? Although I don 't think it did all that well outside of L.A. '

'Yeah, that one, ' says Chuuya, kind of happy for the excuse to chug the third beer if it will get him out of this conversation. Dazai looks way too pleased with himself when the guy he 'd taken it from was so drunk he was practically falling down. Honestly, Dazai had probably done that guy a favor.

Chuuya is debating being the one to go up to the bar to get another round. Dazai has approached a table of older men near the pool tables and darts. The group was definitely more alert than the other people Dazai had chosen. The men look annoyed as Dazai hovers near them. Chuuya stops his sentence telling Tachihara his plan when he realizes what Dazai is about to do.

'Four! ' shouts Dazai, taking a beer directly in front of it 's clearly watching owner and chugging it. He holds up his other fist in victory.

'That doesn 't count! ' Chuuya shouts back. He grabs Tachihara 's half-full glass and slams the rest of it. Tachihara sputters in shock.

'Whoopsie, sorry, ' says Dazai loudly as the man he stole from gets into his face, screaming at him. He shoves a finger into Dazai 's chest, and Dazai 's smile just widens. He narrowly avoids the man 's fist as it comes towards his face.

Chuuya moves through the crowd quickly, leaping over the table blocking him from reaching Dazai and the guy who 's trying to punch him. Dazai is holding up his hands as if he 's innocent, still smiling as he dodges another punch. The man is getting louder as he yells at Dazai, and Chuuya doesn 't need to know the language to know what someone sounds like when he 's pissed.

'Hey, asshole, ' says Chuuya, raising his voice as he slides in between Dazai and his would be attacker. Chuuya smiles too, his is more dangerous than bright though. He catches the other man off guard as he strikes out with a fast kick, hitting him dead on in the stomach.

The man clutches at where he struck him, looking up at Chuuya with a mixture of shock, anger, and pain. Chuuya doesn 't hold back his laughter, idiots who tried to talk with their fists never saw the first kick coming. Dazai slips away easily now that the man is distracted.

'Five! ' yells Dazai as he grabs another glass from the edge of the pool table as he passes it.

'That doesn 't fucking count either! ' Chuuya yells back even as he grabs the nearest glass and drains it. It 's something with some sort of vodka in it, and it goes down harshly. He stumbles to avoid the man who he kicked rushing at him.

'Sorry, I 'll be needing these. ' Chuuya sees Dazai taking the darts from the people playing at the board nearest them, shoving them into the pockets of his suit. The dart players join the group of people yelling at them. Dazai blissfully ignores them too, now trying to pry the dart board they were using off the wall.

'Dazai! ' Chuuya takes a hit to his left side, more annoying than painful. He winces and rubs the spot, lashing out with another kick more to buy time than trying to retaliate. 'Time to go! '

'Just a second, ' calls back Dazai, still trying to pull the dart board off the wall. It comes free with a loud crack. Dazai pulls it into his arms and then rushes towards the exit.

Chuuya immediately follows, pushing the man he was fighting away roughly so he has space to escape. He gives him a little wave over his shoulder as he goes. The man screams back at him, shaking his fist.

Chuuya catches up to Dazai as they 're passing Tachihara, who 's made his way over to the side of the bar they 're running away from. He 's looking at them with a gobsmacked expression, mouth hanging slightly open.

'We leave it to you, Tachihara, ' says Dazai, smiling brightly at the older boy. He doesn 't pause at all, just keeps running towards the door.

'Thanks man, ' yells Chuuya, twisting his head back as he runs, feeling a little sorry but mostly still high off the adrenaline and thrill. 'Nice to meet you! '

They keep running even as they leave the bar, making it another two blocks before they stop. Both of them are breathing hard, Dazai drops the dart board he 'd stolen at his feet, bending over to try and catch him breath.

'Fuck, ' says Chuuya, shaking his head and running his hand through his hair. He hasn 't stopped smiling though. 'Now how are we supposed to get back to the hotel? '

Dazai manages to get them a cab and direct them by showing them a picture of the hotel, though it takes a long time and a lot of gesturing. He thinks the cab driver is mostly questioning the clearly stolen dart board they shove into the back seat. Chuuya watches, still half smiling, the number of drinks he had catching up with him and making him feel sloppy and tired.

Chuuya isn 't all that surprised to see Hirotsu in the lobby of the hotel, a phone pressed to his ear. His eyes narrow when he spots them, waving them towards him with his hand not holding the phone.

'Thank you. I 'm sorry, ' says Hirotsu before he hangs up. He then gives them his full attention. 'Why? ' is all he says.

'You 're going to have to be more specific, ' says Dazai. He 's leaning heavily on the dart board to prop himself up.

'You know what I 'm asking, ' says Hirotsu. He never raises his voice, but his tone grows much colder.

Chuuya jumps in to try and placate him. 'It was all pretty harmless. I doubt they 'll be that mad after a generous donation from PMR. '

'That 's not the point. ' Hirotsu rubs his forehead. 'Your behavior is unbecoming of Port Mafia Records employees. ' He looks down at the dart board with distaste. 'Dazai, you already bought a $7,500 tapestry on this tour. I don 't think your walls need anymore decoration. '

'This isn 't for me. It 's for

Chuuya

, ' says Dazai. This is news to Chuuya. 'It 's not every day a boy turns sixteen, Hirotsu. '

That softens Hirotsu up considerably, although not completely. 'I still don 't see why you had to drag Michizou into this. '

'We needed someone who could speak Mandarin, ' says Chuuya, now looking at what is apparently his dart board. It 's broken, not in English, and missing some of the darts. Chuuya supposes he could hang it in his bathroom.

Hirotsu turns to glare at Dazai then. 'Dazai, you 've been taking Mandarin lessons since you were a child. You 're practically

fluent

. '

'Ah, yes, I suppose I am, ' says Dazai. He smiles back at Hirotsu and shrugs. 'Must have slipped my mind. '

Chuuya can 't help it, he starts laughing so hard tears leak from his eyes. Dazai 's smile just gets bigger.

Hirotsu sighs loudly. 'Just go to sleep, you two. '

They make their way up to their room, Chuuya still half laughing while Dazai carries his birthday present. Dazai props it up against the wall when they get in the room. Chuuya kicks off his shoes and suit jacket. Then he goes straight to the bed and collapses on top of it, tired from the long day and all the drinking.

He frowns as he feels Dazai flop onto the bed next to him, turning to look at him. 'Why are you on my bed? '

'Actually, you 're on my bed, ' points out Dazai.

Chuuya looks closer around the room, disgruntled when he realizes that Dazai is right. He sighs and starts to lift himself up off the bed, but Dazai 's hand clamps around his left forearm. He pulls him back down with a sort of half whine of protest. Chuuya doesn 't resist him, he hadn 't really even wanted to move anyway.

He settles back down on the bed, getting under the covers still in his clothes from the day. He pulls off his choker and puts it on the bedside table along with his phone. Once he 's finished he turns back to see Dazai already burrowed into the blankets on his side of the bed, but he 's still awake, watching Chuuya with droopy eyes.

'Your breath reeks, ' says Dazai. He 's got his face half turned into the pillow. He wrinkles his nose.

'You smell just as bad, ' counters Chuuya. 'We both need a shower. All I can smell is those fucking cigarettes. '

'I 'm too tired, ' says Dazai. Chuuya agrees, not making any move to get out of bed either.

'I think you might have made an enemy of Tachihara, ' muses Chuuya as he tries to get comfortable.

'He 's a

drummer

, ' says Dazai, as if that was all the justification he needed.

'You 're such a snob, ' says Chuuya, laughing a little.

'It 's called having taste, ' says Dazai, mostly into his pillow.

'Why 'd you take us to a bar? ' asks Chuuya quietly. He turns over again to watch Dazai 's expression, but it gives away nothing other than exhaustion.

'Did you not have fun? ' Dazai asks back, voice low.

'I didn 't say that. ' It was fun, or rather it had become fun after they 'd stopped pretending to enjoy it and made it actually interesting.

'Isn 't that what teenagers do? ' mumbles Dazai. He has his eyes fully closed now. 'Stop barking at me, Chuuya. I 'm trying to sleep. '

Chuuya hides his smile by turning his head to face the other way. Overall, it 's one of the better birthdays he 's had.

Late May, Eight Months Until the Release of Corruption

It 's strange being in Japan. Chuuya had wondered if he would feel some kind of connection to the country, this is where his mom was born. It is nice to be back somewhere that he speaks the language, but other than that it still feels mostly foreign. Tokyo is beautiful and full of life, but Chuuya misses L.A., which is something he 'd never thought before. He never used to think of it as home, just as a place he lived, but PMR has made it something else.

Mori has a lot of connections in Japan, and there 's a PMR office in Tokyo. It 's smaller than the L.A. one, but Chuuya still feels more at ease around the familiarity of the place. The people here are having the same sorts of discussions that he's used to, the same scheduling issues, wardrobe meetings, and above all else talking about music.

If missing L.A. is odd, missing music is an ever weirder feeling. Chuuya has barely sang or played at all the past couple weeks. He hasn 't gotten the chance to work on others ' music like he had with Kouyou back in L.A. either. He's jealous of Dazai, who was constantly working on one song or another. But he doesn 't exactly know how to go about asking if he could do the same. As far as he knows, his job is to try and absorb as much as he can about touring and the Asian music scene as he can. This had been exciting at first, but now that it had been a couple months he 's getting a little bored.

He 'd been surprised to get an invitation to meet with the Head of Operations for PMR 's Southeast Asian division, Arthur Rimbaud. The email had been addressed to him alone. He 'd asked Dazai if he 'd met the man, but he said he hadn 't. Dazai had only said that he 'd heard the man was eccentric (to which Chuuya had replied that he was a fucking hypocrite). The invitation had been short, only requesting his presence with no other details offered.

Chuuya isn 't sure what to expect when he walks into the office. He scans the room for a moment before he sees a man standing near the large window, looking out down at the city below. He looks strangely sad, and Chuuya feels almost wrong to barge in on a stranger looking so unguarded. But he had knocked before entering and been called in.

Arthur Rimbaud is tall, with long dark hair that reaches almost to his waist. He wears it loose and covering half his face. He 's dressed in a long grey trench coat, wrapped tightly around his body despite how warm the room is. He also wears a black hat with a red hatband, a silver chain hanging over the brim. Chuuya already feels too hot in his clothes, his suit jacket sticking to his back uncomfortably.

'Ah, Chuuya, thank you for coming. ' Rimbaud turns to face him, the haunted looked mostly disappearing but not completely. His voice is deeper than Chuuya thought it would be. He offers a hand for Chuuya to shake. 'Arthur Rimbaud, pleased to meet you. '

'Likewise, ' replies Chuuya, shaking the hand, fighting not to react by how freezing it is.

'Ah, yes, I apologize, ' says Rimbaud, catching onto Chuuya 's flinch. 'I 'm afraid I 've always suffered from poor circulation. I used to wear gloves, but it was deemed unprofessional. '

'It 's alright, ' says Chuuya awkwardly. He shoves his own hands in his pockets to have something to do with them.

'Come, sit. ' Rimbaud gestures to two large armchairs in front of the window he 'd been standing in front of.

Chuuya takes the one closest to him, surprised to be seated there instead of at the man 's desk. He takes the cup of tea he 's offered, touched even though the other man probably has no idea it 's one of the flavors Chuuya likes.

'I bet you 're wondering why I asked you here, ' says Rimbaud. He 's using his own cup of tea more as a hand warmer than a beverage.

'I was surprised to receive your invitation, ' says Chuuya, aiming for politeness. He sips his own tea, relieved that it isn 't so hot that he burns his mouth.

'I was a bit conflicted about asking you to come, ' says Rimbaud. He 's staring into his tea instead of looking at Chuuya, his face once again slipping into a grave expression. 'I didn 't want to disturb you, but it felt wrong not to reach out. '

Chuuya frowns, more confused now than when he walked in. 'What do you mean? '

'I don 't mean to be cryptic. ' Rimbaud looks up from his tea. He smiles but doesn 't look any happier. 'I just don 't know quite how to go about this. I never thought I 'd get the chance to meet you in person. '

'What the hell are you talking about? ' Chuuya drops all attempts at being polite, now thoroughly weirded out.

'I gave up trying to track you down years ago, ' says Rimbaud, not acknowledging Chuuya 's outburst at all. He makes eye contact with him now, his expression still intensely serious. 'It seemed like a lost cause. I didn 't even notice when you signed with Port Mafia Records. Then you were pictured with Ozaki a few weeks ago. The name threw me off at first, made me doubt, but then when I dug deeper I found out that Chuuya Nakahara isn 't your real name. '

'

Yes, it is

. ' Chuuya speaks each work violently. He slams his cup of tea down on the table, no longer concerned with respecting anything this man owns. 'I even have documents proving it is. ' He 's projecting anger, but there 's a real sense of terror and horror hiding behind it. He 's worked hard to keep these kinds of secrets buried, and he 'd like to keep them that way.

'California foster care system case file A5158, ' Rimbaud speaks as if he 's reading straight from the document. 'Mother, deceased, suicide. Father, unknown. Left his last group home at age thirteen. '

'What the hell kind of game are you playing at? ' Chuuya wishes his voice didn 't tremble so much as he speaks. He tries to sound threatening, but Rimbaud just looks more sad than anything.

'I 'm playing no game. ' Rimbaud holds up his hands in a gesture of innocence. It does nothing to calm Chuuya. 'I merely wanted to meet you, talk to you. I used to work with your mother. '

'If that 's why you brought me here, ' says Chuuya, not quite shouting but very close, 'Then you should have fucking said that in your invitation and I would have fucking told you that I don 't want anything to do with her. ' He 's half ready to walk out the door right now, but something is holding him back.

'Your parents might be dead, but there 's still-, ' Rimbaud says before Chuuya cuts him off harshly.

'My father is

dead

? ' he asks, voice strained. He balls his hands into his fists to try and stop the shaking. He kind of feels like he 's going to puke.

'You didn 't know? ' Rimbaud seems shocked, then it morphs into a guilty expression. He seems at a loss for what to say.

Chuuya had always assumed that his dad was some deadbeat who 'd never wanted him. It was a comfortable assumption, one that had allowed him to feel angry rather than abandoned. But he 'd had this childish fantasy that his dad was looking for him, that he was an important figure who 'd swoop into his life one day and fix all his problems. It was absolutely ridiculous, but it had been a kind of solace when life was going to shit. He was more sad to lose that than he was about the death of a man he 'd never known.

'He passed a long time ago, ' reveals Rimbaud eventually. 'I wasn 't aware your mother hadn 't informed you. But, as I was saying, each of them have family still living that I could connect you with. '

'I already have a family, ' says Chuuya immediately, voice sharp.

It wasn 't The Sheep who he pictured this time though. It was Kouyou, laughing so hard tears were running down her face over a cup of tea. It was Hirotsu 's small smile looking at his GED results. It was Tachihara, someone he 'd never met saying

I 've heard of you, you 're that singer.

It was dark eyes meeting his in the hours between night and day, offering nothing more than a reminder he wasn 't alone. He didn 't need a forced connection with people who 'd never bothered to look for him his whole life.

'Of course, the decision is up to you, ' says Rimbaud, not put off by Chuuya 's anger. 'I know that your mother had her 'troubles. I wish you could have gotten to know the other sides of her. '

'You think I don 't know that? ' Chuuya laughs without any joy, the sound slightly manic. 'Her 'troubles ' almost cost me my fucking life. '

'I 'm sorry, this isn 't going at all how I wanted it too. ' Rimbaud lifts a hand as if to reach out but seems to think better of it. 'I was heartbroken when I read the news report of what had happened to you and your mom. I tried to reach out, but with all the privacy laws you have in America I wasn 't able to get anywhere. '

'You shouldn 't have bothered, ' says Chuuya. He has enough of a grip on his emotions now to speak normally. He makes sure to give Rimbaud his coldest look. 'I don 't want anything from you. Whatever debt you feel you owe me is nonexistent. I want you to

leave me alone

. '

'If that 's what you wish, I understand. ' Rimbaud looks so torn up about it. If Chuuya were a better person he 'd probably feel guilty. Instead he feels satisfied, glad that the other man was feeling a fraction of how shitty Chuuya felt.

'Whatever, man, ' Chuuya picks up his tea and drains the rest in a long gulp. No use wasting good tea over an asshole. He puts the cup back on the plate more delicately this time. 'You can fuck off. '

He stands up, adjusting his suit jacket which was now sweaty from how stupidly hot the room was. 'Thanks for the tea. ' He nods dismissively at Rimbaud and turns to go. He gets to the door before Rimbaud speaks again.

'Chuuya. ' Something in his tone makes Chuuya turn around to look at him. He doesn 't look timid or sad anymore, but confident. 'Before you go, I just want to say one thing. I know exactly what your mother told you about yourself, about Arahabaki. Do not believe her. You are

human.

You did not deserve what she did to you. Do what you want with your life. If that is music, so be it. I am impressed with the young man you 've become, you have a spine of steel. Keep that. It was an honor to meet you, Chuuya Nakahara. ' Rimbaud bows low to the ground.

Chuuya takes all that in, breathing tightly. He hates that the first question he wants to ask is

are you sure?

He can feel his eyes starting to water, but stubbornly refuses to let any tears fall. He clears his throat roughly. 'It was an honor to meet you, Arthur Rimbaud. ' He bows back, just as lowly.

After he stands up, he quickly exits the office, deeply shaken.

Early June, Seven Months Until the Release of Corruption

Chuuya tries to get out of the weird mood he 's been in ever since speaking to Arthur Rimbaud, but it 's difficult. He feels out of place, like he 's just playing the part of Chuuya Nakahara, Port Mafia Records employee. He 's worked so hard to push down all this shit from his past with his mom, and now it feels like he can 't escape it.

They 've left Tokyo for Yokohama, and Chuuya 's spent the last couple days wondering the city by himself. He needs some time alone, to think without any of the way too observant people he works with watching him. He 's not sure who he 's avoiding the most, Kouyou, Hirotsu, or Dazai. Any of them would be able to tell something was up instantly.

He 's ended up wandering down to the docks, the ocean reminding him of L.A. in a way. It 's strangely peaceful, even though there 's people yelling and working all around him. He 's sitting on the edge above the water, watching the scene before him. He doesn 't stick out as he usually would, he 's ditched his suit for a pair of jeans he 'd found buried in the bottom of his clothes and a ratty old sweatshirt.

He props his head on one of his knees. It 's been a long time since he felt this '

empty

is the only way he knows how to describe it. He 's filled the last couple years of his life with constant energy and people. It had kept the feeling at bay. He wonders if other people ever felt like this, if they look in a mirror and wonder what kind of creature looks back. He hopes they don 't. He wouldn 't wish this on anyone.

'So this is where you 've been disappearing to? ' says a voice above him, starling him. He looks up to see Dazai. He 's the most casually dressed he 's ever seen him, also in jeans and a dark blue long sleeve. It 's weird, like seeing a cartoon character in a different outfit.

'How the fuck did you find me? ' asks Chuuya, no heat to his voice, not all that surprised.

'Tracked your phone, ' answers Dazai flatly, holding up his own phone.

Normally he 'd probably yell at Dazai for not respecting his privacy, but he just nods and goes back to looking at the water. He can 't find the energy to fight him, to ask what he wants, to fulfill his role in their stupid ongoing whatever the fuck this is. Just once, he wishes Dazai would believe him when he asks to be left alone.

Dazai sits down next to him, dangling his legs above the water. Chuuya expects him to say something, to mock his choice of location, to whine about Chuuya avoiding him, to try and pull him somewhere else 'less boring '. He doesn 't do any of that though, he stays silent, looking carefree as he watches the water just as Chuuya had been.

Chuuya 's not sure how much time passes. It feels long though. He stares at the water for the most part, trying to clear his mind of all the things that are making him stuck in this mood. Dazai 's presence is somehow helpful, it was hard to feel like nothing when someone who knew you more than most others was watching.

Eventually Chuuya has to ask, voice rough after not talking for so long. 'Why did you follow me? '

'Got bored, ' says Dazai, not reacting at all to Chuuya breaking the long silence. He turns away from the water to face him, face impassive.

'And you don 't think this is boring? ' asks Chuuya, smiling despite himself.

'No, I do, ' confirms Dazai without hesitation. 'It 's less boring than working though. '

'Well, what did you want to do that 's not boring? ' Chuuya stands up, reaching down a hand to pull Dazai up with him.

'We 're in Japan, ' says Dazai quickly, as if Chuuya finally sprung the trap Dazai had been waiting for. 'Let 's do karaoke! '

'

You

want to do karaoke? You don 't even like music, ' says Chuuya.

'I don 't like

bad

music, ' corrects Dazai. Chuuya rolls his eyes, apparently Dazai 's definition of bad music was practically everything in existence. 'If we 're the ones singing it, it won 't be bad. '

That goes straight to Chuuya 's ego. No matter how many times he hears it, the fact that Dazai thinks he 's a good singer never fails to make him feel stupidly proud. 'Lead the way then. '

He lets Dazai drag him to a karaoke spot a couple blocks away, renting a small room for the two of them. The place seems to cater more to tourists with the amount of signs they have in English. When asked how long he wanted it for, Dazai just handed them his PMR credit card and told them to keep charging it until they were ready to leave.

They go into their room. Chuuya settles into one of the chairs, letting Dazai hunch over the machine to pick the first song. This definitely wasn 't what he had imagined his day would be like, but he 's kind of excited. He hadn 't listened to music practically at all the past few days, let alone sang. It would be nice to do something he loves.

Dazai searches the selection for a couple minutes before letting out an excited noise. His grin is extremely wide as he looks up at Chuuya, which immediately puts him on edge.

'They have it! ' Dazai taps his selection joyfully. 'This is the greatest place I 've ever been. '

'Have what? ' Chuuya asks as the music begins.

It takes him a couple seconds, but he knows this song very, very well. He 'd played it over and over again while they were writing it and then even more during practice and shows.

'You 've got to be kidding me, ' says Chuuya as

Life 's Better With a Little Party In It by The Sheep

flashes on the screen. 'No, no way. Turn if off! '

'

It 's a Friday

, ' sings Dazai loudly, cheerfully ignoring Chuuya 's protests. '

And it 's been a hell of a week. '

It 's the most enthusiastic Chuuya has ever seen him about singing. He prances about the room, swaying in time to the upbeat music.

Dazai grabs the other microphone and shoves it in Chuuya 's face, dangling it back and forth. The offer is clear. '

Feels like I 've been stuck in a losing streak. '

Chuuya pushes Dazai 's hand away roughly, but that doesn 't seem to bother him as he continues to dance around happily.

But tonight is the night we turn it around

There 's not a thing that can keep me down

Chuuya sighs, picking up the other microphone and giving in. Dazai 's smile in response is huge. Chuuya rolls his eyes at him.

Singing along can 't be worse than having Dazai sing it to him. Plus, just because it was a shit song didn 't mean it wasn 't fun. Chuuya had always had a blast playing it on stage. They sing together as the chorus starts.

So turn down the lights, and turn up the music

Tell all your friends, tell everyone

Dance 'til your feet are covered in bruises

We 'll keep going 'til we see the sun

Cuz life is better,

Life 's just better,

Life is better, better, better

Life 's better with a little party in it

Chuuya doesn 't plan it, his body just naturally starts to go through the motions it 's been trained to. He stomps, slides, and shakes his fist to the beat of the chorus before he 's realized what he 's done. He desperately wishes that Dazai hasn 't noticed, but the way he 's paused singing along to the song crushes that hope.

'What was that? ' Dazai asks, his face already creeping into a knowing smile.

'Nothing, ' says Chuuya quickly. He tries to keep his expression neutral.

'Chuuya, ' Dazai says his name, practically bouncing in excitement, 'Did The Sheep create

choreography

for this song? '

'No, ' lies Chuuya, not sounding even a little bit believable to his own ears.

Dazai laughs loudly then, having to bend over with the force of it. His eyes are closed and he 's shaking he 's laughing so hard.

It strikes Chuuya oddly. He 's seen Dazai laugh plenty of times, has been the reason for it most of the time. But it 's never like this. There 's usually a sense of control, that he 's laughing at someone who 's playing their part in his game. This isn 't like that. It 's, for lack of a better word, honest. Dazai has never looked more fifteen.

It 's this oddness that makes Chuuya fight down his embarrassment to laugh a little himself. 'Want me to teach it to you? '

Dazai straightens up instantly, cutting off his laughter. His eyes widen, face lit up. 'Start it from the beginning! '

Chuuya loses count of how many times they repeat the song. They start it over and over again, until they both know the steps perfectly. Dazai mocks him the entire time. Chuuya insults Dazai 's dancing just as much, calling him an awkward lanky noodle. The staff must hate them, but Chuuya can 't find it in himself to care. He leaves a two hundred percent tip when they leave, figuring that more than makes up for it.

Dazai keeps humming the song even as they leave, somehow not sick of it yet. Chuuya ignores him, feeling strangely peaceful as he makes his way down the Yokohama streets. It 's the first time since meeting with Arthur that he feels like himself again.

Oddly enough, his biggest takeaway from the day is that Dazai 's voice and his had sounded unnaturally good together, even scream singing a terrible pop song.

Mid June, Seven Months Until the Release of Corruption

Despite being slightly homesick, Chuuya 's kind of bummed tonight is the last concert. It 's the final show in Seoul, South Korea. They were flying back to L.A. tomorrow.

He 's going to miss being on tour, getting to explore new cities. He would miss having the chance to hear Kouyou go all out singing. He would miss spending time with Hirotsu, even if the old man claimed to not like it. He would miss the whole tour crew, the food, the late nights, the music.

Dazai interrupts his train of thought by sighing loudly. There were other things he was going to miss less.

'What 's your problem? ' asks Chuuya, knowing he 'll keep sighing dramatically until he asks.

'It 's the last night of the tour, ' whines Dazai. 'And you never even performed at all. I thought I 'd get to see chibi on stage at least once. '

Chuuya frowns deeply. He 'd kind of thought the same as well. But Kouyou hadn 't been very receptive to the idea when he 'd brought it up. At first he 'd thought it was because she didn 't think he was ready, now he couldn 't tell why she was hesitating. It wasn 't like Chuuya got nervous around crowds, he 'd always loved performing. And even if he screwed up, it didn 't really matter if he blew a single song as an opener in a foreign country.

He doesn 't get why Dazai cares so much though. 'Kouyou doesn 't want me to, ' he says, shrugging as if he doesn 't care.

'And since when do you need Kouyou 's permission to do something? ' asks Dazai. It feels like a challenge. 'You always claim you 're not a dog. Yet, here you are, allowing your master to command you to stay. '

'Fuck off, ' says Chuuya harshly. 'I 'm not going to go against Kouyou just because you dare me to. '

'Then do it for me, as a birthday present, ' says Dazai. He doesn 't seem like he 's joking. 'Sing

Golden Demon.

'

Chuuya had gotten Dazai 's birthday out of Hirotsu the day after his own, when Hirotsu had tried to convince him to give back the dart board they 'd stolen. Chuuya had convinced him that the dart board was already broken, they could buy the bar a new one, and to tell him the date after being annoying enough that Hirotsu had wanted to make him go away (and he 'd accomplished all of that with a horrible hangover). He knew Dazai 's birthday wasn 't for a few more days, although he had been struggling to come up what to do about it.

'You want me to sing for you as your present? ' asks Chuuya smugly, never letting an opportunity to taunt Dazai go by.

The question has the extremely rare and extremely satisfying effect of Dazai looking flustered for a second. He quickly shakes it off though. 'I want to see Kouyou 's face when she realizes you stole her encore song from her on her last concert of the tour. '

'Which is exactly why I wouldn 't do that to Kouyou, ' says Chuuya. He 's considering it though.

Chuuya doesn 't like having debts. And over the course of this whole tour, he feels like Dazai has been doing him favors over and over again. The GED was an obvious one, the nightmare thing even more so. He 'd taken him somewhere for his birthday. The karaoke thing that had pulled him out of his funk was probably unintentional but somehow the one that made him feel he owed him the most.

'Fine. ' Dazai rolls his eyes. He pulls out his phone and starts playing a game on it. 'Scaredy dog. ' Chuuya can tell he 's disappointed.

Fuck it,

thinks Chuuya. Better to ask forgiveness than permission, wasn 't that the saying? Deep down, he wanted to do it. He was getting sick of being a bystander in music. If it satisfied Dazai too, it was worth it. Kouyou would forgive him (he fucking hoped).

'If I 'm going to do this, ' Chuuya starts to say, Dazai perking up immediately, 'Fucking

if,

I 'm going to need your help. '

'Anything you need, chibi, ' promises Dazai. His smirk is both infuriating and making Chuuya excited. 'Oh, this is going to be good. '

Instead of spending the rest of their last day relaxing, they plot and scheme their way into getting Chuuya an opportunity to sneak on stage. It requires intense coordination. Chuuya wouldn 't have been able to pull it off without Dazai, who was treating the whole thing like a life or death mission. Dazai somehow even gets Tachihara to believe his requests, who 's despised him ever since Beijing (he 'd luckily forgiven Chuuya, blaming Dazai for everything).

At the end of all their work, Chuuya is waiting just off stage on the right side, adjusting a microphone in his ear that Dazai had slipped him as they 'd passed each other backstage. Dazai had winked at him as he 'd done it.

Chuuya takes a deep breath. The crowd is still talking to each other, the many conversations creating a dull roar. He isn 't nervous about singing, it 's more about doing something this crazy. He wonders what tour would have been like if he hadn 't asked Dazai to come with back in February. He 's sure it wouldn 't have been half as exciting.

He adjusts his hair and his suit one last time, then walks onto the stage. The crowd starts to quiet down as they notice him. He smiles widely at them, waving hello. 'Good evening, South Korea. How are you guys doing tonight? '

The people who hadn 't noticed him stop talking now that the sound of his voice carries speaking into the microphone. They cheer at the question. Chuuya smiles more genuinely, that seemed to work everywhere.

'My name is Chuuya Nakahara, ' he says as he makes his way over to the piano sitting at the front right of the stage. He 'd always thought it looked nice to play, now he was going to find out. 'Kouyou Ozaki is my mentor. I was wondering if I could play you guys a song while she gets ready? '

The audience lets out a somewhat lackluster cheer of support. Chuuya smothers a laugh, he hadn 't expected much else. 'Thanks guys. This is one you might have heard before, it 's called

Golden Demon.

'

The crowd doesn 't know what to make of that. Some people actually sound upset.

Chuuya adjusts his hands at the piano, unbothered. He doesn 't have a lot of time to overthink if he doesn 't want to get pulled off stage. He looks over to where he usually sits on the side of the stage to watch Kouyou and sees Dazai standing there. For once, he 's not looking at his phone or laptop. He 's paying full attention to Chuuya. Chuuya can 't make out his expression from here, but it gives him the push he needs to start playing.

People shut up as he hits the keys in the opening notes. He 's always tried to convince Kouyou to do a version of

Golden Demon

of just her and a piano, but she preferred her version with a full band. Now Chuuya was testing his own theory that it would sound good. He sings the opening verse slowly, letting it flow with the piano.

Congratulations on your engagement

Everyone says that it 's a smart match

You 've traded your heart for quite a sum

I hope you're satisfied with your catch

After the first verse he shakes whatever nerves he had. He stops worrying about being caught and just plays and sings the song he 's always loved, letting the music take over.

He sings the rest of the song, pouring his emotions into it the best he can. He screws up a couple notes during the second chorus (it 's been a long time since he played the song), but he keeps going. By the end the room is extremely quiet, all he can hear is the last lingering notes he plays on the piano. He holds his breath a little as he waits for a reaction.

The applause that greets him is shocking with how loud it is. The crowd screams and cheers for him, and the sound echos in his ears harshly. He stands up from the piano with his mouth slightly open for a moment, caught up in the feeling. Then he can 't fight the huge grin.

God, this is better than every performance he ever did with The Sheep. He feels invincible, and strangely at peace. The chaos of the arena matches him, makes him feel settled. This was what music was supposed to be like.

'Thank you, thank you, ' he says into the mic. He does a little bow. 'You flatter me, seriously. '

Chuuya straightens and glances to the side again to see Dazai clapping along with them, though the gesture is slightly mocking. It makes Chuuya smile even wider. He mouths

happy fucking birthday

at him.

'You 're a great crowd, ' says Chuuya, moving away from the piano towards the center of the stage. 'Thanks for letting me sing for you before getting to our main performer of the evening. Who 's ready to hear the inimitable Kouyou Ozaki? '

Late June, Seven Months Until the Release of Corruption

Chuuya knocks on the door to Mori 's office, trying to fight down the nerves he feels. They just returned from tour two days ago. He 's mostly been sleeping and unpacking, and he hadn 't planned to come into the office today until he 'd gotten a text from Mori requesting his presence. Chuuya had never gotten ready so quickly in his life, he feels like he 's been on edge ever since he read the message.

'Come in, ' calls Mori from inside the room. Chuuya pulls the door open and steps in, shutting it carefully behind him.

It feels distinctly different than walking into Rimbaud 's office a little over a month ago. Arthur 's office had been unbearably warm, but Mori 's felt distinctly cold even though the temperature was normal. The space was huge but sparsely furnished, Mori 's large desk lording over the entire room. Chuuya rarely spent time here, and that was just fine with him.

'Chuuya, ' says Mori, looking up from the stack of papers on his desk with a wide smile. He beckons him to come forward. 'Welcome back. I was planning to wait to have this discussion, but certain events have prompted me to adjust my schedule. '

Chuuya notices a video pulled up on Mori 's computer as he gets closer. It 's him singing

Golden Demon

at Kouyou 's concert, the view count much higher than he would have predicted.

He swallows roughly. He 's already apologized to Kouyou over and over again, but he can 't tell if she 's forgiven him or not. She 's been colder towards him since the concert. It 's subtle, but it makes Chuuya want to smash something. He 's more pissed at himself than he is at Dazai, he shouldn 't have given in to his games. He should know better. If this is going to cost him his relationship with Kouyou, he 'd rather never sing again.

He hadn 't even considered that he also may have upset Mori. Mori liked to be in control, Chuuya knew that, even before Kouyou and Dazai warned him. He was ultimately in charge of Chuuya 's career, and maybe he hadn 't wanted him to gain so much attention without getting his approval. Chuuya doesn 't want to risk his position at PMR, he can 't.

Mori glances from him to the video and back, aware that he 's seen it. 'This was a surprise. I hadn 't anticipated this kind of behavior from you. '

Chuuya stands with his hands behind his back to hide the slight shaking, holding his wrists in an attempt to calm down. 'I apologize, Boss. It was an impulsive mistake. It won 't happen again. '

'There is nothing to apologize for, Chuuya, ' says Mori, and Chuuya feels like the room has air again. 'I 'm pleased with the reaction the video is getting. This video is being watched here in the U.S. as well as around Asia. You can 't plan for this sort of promotion. '

'I didn 't know this would happen, ' says Chuuya. He keeps his position, but he 's back to the same low level of fear and respect he always has during conversations with Mori rather than being terrified.

'I can tell. It 's a stroke of good luck for PMR. ' Mori changes the screen away from the video, switching to a file labeled with his name. 'Kouyou had requested for you not to have to record music until you 're eighteen. She feels fame is too big a burden to place on someone so young. She 's downplayed the progress you 've made vocally since starting working here, but this video shows her fears are unfounded. '

Chuuya feels a new type of guilt for his actions. He 'd thought Kouyou was mad at him, but she 'd been trying to protect him in her own way. Her distance made sense now. And she 'd risked lying to the boss for him. He has to find a way to make this up to her.

'Kouyou has incredibly high standards, ' says Chuuya, feigning confidence. He forces a smile. 'I 'm sure she meant what she said. I still have a lot of work to do before I 'm competent in her eyes. '

'Kouyou is not in trouble, Chuuya, ' says Mori, seeming amused at Chuuya 's attempts to defend her. 'In fact, her most recent work has been impeccable. She 's been made a Port Mafia Records Executive. '

That was a huge promotion. There were only five of them. Executives were only beneath Mori in terms of power. They held more sway in decision making, had the power to raise certain artists up and totally dismiss others. Kouyou could still record music if she wanted to, but now it would be up to her what type she wanted to do and when unless Mori directly interfered.

Chuuya couldn 't mask his surprise. 'She 's only twenty. '

'I 've always cared more about results than things like age, ' says Mori. He brings Chuuya 's attention back to the screen in front of him, which has a complicated timeline that Chuuya can 't read all of unless he wanted to get directly in front of the computer and squint. 'But we 're here to discuss your career today. I believe you 're ready to start working on your first album. '

This hadn 't been the direction Chuuya had thought this discussion was going to go. But he knew better than to question Mori 's decisions. 'What did you have in mind? '

'I 've been paying attention to the music you 've worked on since joining PMR almost a year ago. Not many people have noticed how gifted you are at writing music as well as playing it. ' Mori doesn 't give compliments without a purpose, but Chuuya feels proud anyway. The good feeling doesn 't last long though. 'So I think it would be best if you were the driving force on this record. '

Chuuya takes that in, wondering how Mori expects him to react. It wasn 't like he wanted other people to write music for him. He does want to be in charge, it would be stifling if someone else was. He 'd done that with The Sheep, and he doesn 't want to go back to it, singing songs that he wasn 't proud of, that didn 't have any meaning.

But writing music has never been simple when it 's been for himself. They say to write what you know, what you feel, and Chuuya spends most of his time trying to fucking avoid feeling certain things. Whenever he sat at a piano or a blank piece of sheet music, his mind automatically went to that day nine years ago. It 's like he had a mental block, that he couldn 't write about anything else.

That 's why it had been nice for a while to play stupid pop songs that never went deeper than the surface with The Sheep. He 'd never felt anything with that music, but sometimes no emotions were better than the overwhelming amount of anger and desperation his own brought out.

But what was he supposed to do? Say

Sorry, Mori, I can 't write an album because I don 't want to be sad?

It made him almost laugh to picture the boss 's face if he did.

Chuuya doesn 't mind too much that he doesn 't have choices, had given up on being upset about the lack of control in his life when he 'd ran away from his last foster family years ago. Living on other people's couches, you learn to go with the flow. So whatever resentment he feels towards this decision doesn 't last long. It 's not Mori 's fault he 's too much of a sniveling mess. He 'd power through, like he always did.

'You want me to be the one to write the music? ' he asks, tone neutral.

'Well, not all of it, ' says Mori, no reaction to show whether he 'd noticed Chuuya 's inner turmoil or not. 'You 're talented, not a machine. We 'll put together a team to help with the compositions and editing and all that. '

'I see. ' Chuuya smiles, although some of it is genuine. 'Thank you for the opportunity, sir. '

'I know you 'll make something worthy of Port Mafia Records, Chuuya, ' says Mori, cheerful smile and tone. But Chuuya feels it more as a threat, a promise that there will be no leniency if he doesn 't deliver.

'Sure thing, Boss, ' says Chuuya. He doesn 't linger, already moving towards the door. 'I 'll get started right away. '

'Just one last thing, Chuuya. '

Chuuya turns around, barely holding back a snappy reply. He 's oddly thankful for Dazai in this moment for giving him so much practice at not reacting like he wants to when he 's pissed. He clenches his fists tightly instead.

'Arthur Rimbaud sent something for you. ' Mori holds up a familiar hat.