Morally Grey

Posted originally on the Archive of Our Own at http://archiveofourown.org/works/39939351.

Rating: Not Rated

Archive Warning: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-
Con, Underage
Fandom: 文豪ストレイドッグス | Bungou Stray Dogs, 僕のヒーローアカデミア |
Boku no Hero Academia | My Hero Academia
Character: Dazai Osamu (Bungou Stray Dogs), Midoriya Izuku, Mori Ougai
(Bungou Stray Dogs), Aizawa Shouta | Eraserhead, Bakugou Katsuki,
Uraraka Ochako, Kaminari Denki, Nakahara Chuuya (Bungou Stray
Dogs), Shinsou Hitoshi, Yagi Toshinori | All Might
Additional Tags: Asexual Dazai Osamu (Bungou Stray Dogs), Dazai Osamu Needs a
Hug (Bungou Stray Dogs), Port Mafia Executive Dazai Osamu (Bungou
Stray Dogs), Child Dazai Osamu (Bungou Stray Dogs), Child Nakahara
Chuuya (Bungou Stray Dogs), Slow Burn, Medical Trauma, Post-
Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Gore, Medical Inaccuracies, Queer
Dazai Osamu, Queer Chuuya Nakahara, Misogyny, Sexism, Platonic
Relationships, Romance, Pedophilia, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse,
Child Abuse, Abuse, Trauma, Childhood Trauma, Dissociation, Mental
Health Issues, Mental Instability, Suicide, Suicide Attempt, Self-Harm,
Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Crossover, League of Villains
Language: English
Stats: Published: 2022-06-28 Updated: 2023-05-12 Words: 18,624 Chapters:
8/?

Morally Grey
by Sleep_Deprived_And_Gay

Summary

A story covering Soukoku meeting Mha characters where Dazai and Chuuya take place as
students. Will a demon be able to take place in a city that only covers black and white,
while ignoring the gray areas? Will Dazai be able to survive without killing someone off
for their unstable morals and confident personality? Stay tuned to find out :)
 The meeting :D
Chapter Summary

Mission go br brr.

Chapter Notes

I've gotten around to re-doing this chapter, but at the present (9/19/22) I haven't done
the other chapters. This will be done soon, please hang on.

Dazai was a mysterious being. They were the youngest in the port mafia, thirteen years old. At
first, it was laughable that such a person was in the Mafia. People soon began to see that they were
not someone to laugh at, or with. Dazai was where they were always meant to be. During that time,
Dazai made many names for themself.

They were simply merciless, a tool, a weapon against the very ideals of humanity, a being so
perfect it surpassed humanity & became somewhat 'demonic' instead of what others would call
'angelic.'

Such a being was more than worthy to be Mori's, right-hand man.

Compared to Dazai's many other nicknames, they earned one 'permanent one' from the people.
Their people. 'The demon prodigy' they called him.

( ring, ring, riiiinngg-)

“Ugh.” Dazai scoffed. What could they possibly want from them this time? They had already been
through enough that night, and leaving the sepulcher to go to yet another dark room seemed
meaningless.

“Mori?” Dazai pondered aloud, for what reason would he possibly need Dazai? A mission so soon?
Was he getting desperate? The old man was getting desperate, that much was clear, but so soon?
My my, Dazai might just become his predecessor in less time than Mori himself became boss. Old
men truly are foolish, they suppose. Dazai will surly rid themselves of the tainted darkness that
crawled into their heart.

Yes, it had to be him. Only such a foul person would dare to have an old ringtone. If he wanted to
blend in, he should’ve at least updated the phone. Though maybe that’s just Mori and wanting to
blend in with people he’s commonly mistaken for. Old men. Studies have shown that those
surrounded by a group of people tend to take up their habits. Maybe Dazai will get wrinkles from
talking to so many old people.

Why did they manage to get themselves an attached madman? It’s clever to be aware, but it’s
dangerous if your opponent is observant. Ignorance is bliss. Especially in the port mafia. How
Mori managed to map out their sleep schedule is a mystery. Perhaps it was when he found Dazai,
half dead, and grabbed onto their arm, leading them back up to the surface. Or perhaps it was when
he held them captive in their room and stabbed them back to sleep. Never allowing Dazai to truly
be one with the universe, letting only a trickle of the sweet honey death provided merely touch
Dazai.

How Mori managed to make remembrance a habit is a true secret. They know he doesn’t
remember as well as Dazai does, doesn’t think as clearly as Dazai does, and doesn’t perform as
well as Dazai does. They even slept at quite odd hours if only to irritate his sleep as well. They’ve
never experienced true sleep ever since that incident, so it wasn’t a problem. Though it would take
a truly vile person to know one, Dazai isn’t sure why Mori plays some games. Better to do it
cleanly and efficiently, only succumbing to desire when forced to the breaking point.

Nothing bad was guaranteed to happen if the phone was answered, but something much worse
could happen if left to scream out in silence. Dazai was going to die before enduring another
session. They felt that way about many things, but for this, they would plan out over 10 years
ahead. Predicting the next year or two isn’t hard, but planning out more than one is quite difficult.
It requires perfection, not only of Dazai but of those around them. Who will win this awful game of
cat and mouse first? Looking at the past patterns, they can quite confidently state it shall be them
who stands upon the other body. However, Dazai was getting rather tired of such tricks. If it were
something other than a greasy old doctor to play with, maybe they would have had a courteous
manner.

Best to let a puppet believe it is holding the strings than force it to dance right away. Dazai learned
quite a few tricks at a very young age, and this was when they realized they weren’t fond of
learning through experience.

“Ring, ring, riiinnngggg” such an ear screeching eartone. If they heard it another time that day,
they would gladly rinse their filthy skull with bleach.

“What is it”, they said rather impatiently. They know where this is going. It’s the first interesting
mission since the other activity that occurred a few months ago. Was Mori not aware that Dazai
could access all of the files? Maybe he was and just wanted to taunt them with that hypocritical
smirk. They almost shuddered but held back. No weaknesses. No problems. No mistakes. Even the
organization Dazai and Chuuya wiped out couldn’t suppress Mori’s underlying greed &
insecurities. Mori had always been a greedy person, but it was slowly becoming more evident. He
was more like the previous boss than even he knew.

The silence was only disrupted by the slight static as Mori talked, “Hello Dazai.” that sickly sweet
tone made Dazai’s empty stomach flip on reflex. How revolting, knowing that whatever seemed
too good to be true was, how revolting that such a disgusting person can use such a sweet tone that
used to make them revel in happiness from praise. It’s revolting to know that people like him don’t
even need to put a facade for certain acts, Mori was truly happy to watch others suffer. If Dazai
wasn’t planning on a date with death before, they were now.

Might even make a spectacle of it. They can imagine the headlines. “Child dies from a firework,
possible suicide attempt? Studies are still figured out. After proper investigation, we found a note
that entailed many lines of gibberish, one relating to the supposed dead doctor, Mori Ougai-”

“I’ve called you to inform you of a new case that has caught my gaze. Although, I suppose you
were already aware.” Men, Dazai scoffed. Women, they scoffed again. How could people be so
cruel without a proper reason? Most cases have a motive, but those that stem out of love are
foreign to Dazai, and although they passed on all assessments, it was pure memorization, no
understanding.

Is he aware it’s early in the morning? They weren’t aware it was possible for such old people to be
awake at such times. Really, Mori should see a doctor for his poor sleeping habits. Dazai wanted to
bring it aloud, but the silence that will follow would be unbearable. Mori was so hypocritical, to
chastise Dazai on emotion when they knew everything there was to be about it. Love was a
hormone anyways, it won’t be relevant in Dazai’s life until a new case strikes up.

Talking to people such as themselves or Mori was never the smartest idea. Therefore, Dazai was
relieved when they heard the “click” of the phone shutting off. If it were Chuuya, they can assume
he’d huff at the phone and ask “Did he just hang up on me?”, but Dazai was not Chuuya and would
never be Chuuya, so instead, they held gratitude to the universe for stopping the phone call short.

Old pervert, they wanted to scream at the world for no reason at all. They can’t believe younger
them was so foolish as to think people in the Port Mafia were anything but shitty people. A
cockroach can always survive without its head, and so can the Port Mafia. How well the cockroach
functions without its head is a different story entirely. Oh, how Dazai wishes to be a cockroach, to
be close to death forever, without leaving her side. To never think again, what a benevolent life.
Dazai and Mori aren’t so lucky as to be born a roach, and therefore, they should be wary of
themselves and their positions. If he truly is, then he should prepare to die or suffer a fate much
worse. It’s what the universe would’ve wanted after all.

So, instead of pitifully walking there, like a dog tugged by its owner, they waited in the silence of
their room, never moving, but existing. It was at times like these that Dazai was grateful for music,
their ears grew too accustomed to the silent ringing in their head. For a moment, the world turned
black, then white, until finally fading into the darkness yet again.

When they finally did move, almost an hour later, they made sure their posture was perfect and
looked over the information in their head. Mistakes were not acceptable, not by Mori, and certainly
not by Dazai. So, as they paced into the dark fortress, the lack of guards was evident. Mori wasn’t
stupid enough to leave the both of them alone, even during training sessions. Perhaps he was
weakening, the current mission only proved that he was going mad. Someone strong was there, and
everyone else was sent off to do something important. What an exciting taste they had.

Everything was exactly like they remembered. The feel of the heavy doors hadn’t changed, they
still had the same rough texture, Dazai can still remember the first time he’d been banging on the
doors. That was the last time they cried out in the building. The doors were the same, albeit a bit
worn down, and they still carried the same authoritative power that seemed to crush one's soul.
How welcoming. It was made specifically to bring fear to Dazai, they knew that well enough, but
habits are hard to forget. The doors were the only solid thing separating Dazai from pure terror.
Though the people surrounding it seemed to change, the doors stayed the same as when they’d
been built.

Something that had changed quite a while ago, was Mori’s taste in people. Maybe it was because
Mori wanted to taunt Dazai from afar, but he’d picked up a child a long time ago. Granted, it was
after Dazai had been enrolled in the administration, but such a feat had never happened before.
They never picked Mori as a dog lover, but the person he’d got resembled a loyal mutt. The other
half of Soukoku. Chuuya Nakahara.

“Huuuhh!?” Chuuya said, probably startled as he pointed and stared at Dazai from across the room.
Koyou’s etiquette was clearly paying off, as soon after, he sat down and stared at the floor
stonefaced, slight blush tinting his face as embarrassment seeped through.

“What’s the dog doing in here Mori? I wasn’t aware they were allowed on the furniture” Dazai all
but whined out if only to irritate Chuuya. If Dazai was going to get a lecture anyways, better to
bring the other half with them. Besides, irritated Chuuya meant that one person wouldn't treat them
so wearily. They needed a new toy in life.

Mori only sat at his desk, his smile never changing as he stared down at both of them through
closed eyes. The scalpel was threateningly stabbed into the desk, and a few other marks of it could
be seen across the room. If Dazai had tried less in the testing stages, a scalpel would be lodged in
their throat within the first week.

Chuuya glared at Dazai, with a gaze that seemed to yell “What did you just call me?!” how
arrogant. Dazai only scoffed in response before staring back, a smile now replicating Mori’s. It’s
such a feared facial expression that most falter after seeing it, but Chuuya’s fists only continued to
curl up by his sides in a fighting stance. Well now, if Mori didn’t intervene, then perhaps he
doesn’t care for his pawns. Even a game of chess is useless without pawns to carry out the player’s
orders. Dazai only continued to poke at the boy, gaze now telling a story.

You just proved my point, you dumb dog. I thought you knew better. They tauntingly said back,
without words. A single hand covering their mouth as their face twisted into a mocking expression,
innocently snickering at Chuuya’s chihuahua form. The silence only got louder as Mori seemed to
unravel Dazai’s bandages meticulously crafted around their head until Chuuya turned the argument
verbal.

“What did you just say? You bandage-wasting machine?” Chuuya said, arms still kept stiff to the
side, as he glared at Dazai, eyes wide open, waves crashing within his brilliant blue eyes. His head
was tilted at an angle, watching Dazai from the seat, as if egging them to sit down too. Oh, how
they longed to see the sea spill over from his majestic eyes. Dazai was never fond of dogs, but
perhaps Chuuya was the exception.

“What do you think I said? Short child. Maybe you didn’t hear me, after all, it’s a different head
level.” They challenged.

“You damned killing machine-” Chuuya stood up, eyes ablaze as his legs got prepared for a fight.

“Calm down .” Ah, so he finally drew the line at physical fights. Although that isn’t likely, it’s
more the prospect of buying a new room that irritates him the most. Death knows that Mori would
pay to see either half of double black pleading for mercy on their knees, opinion only slightly
inclined to Dazai. There was a dangerous glint in his eyes that showed a line they weren’t willing
to cross. It seems like Mori harbors disgust for them as well as they do him. Keeping it short from
here on out will be ideal. Even Chuuya has grown accustomed to the mood shift and has shut up
quicker than they’d ever seen in their life. If Dazai wanted a peaceful day, maybe they wouldn't
have chosen such a horrible place to go. They wouldn’t have joined the Mafia at all if that were the
case.

Dazai gazed toward Chuuya and saw movement. He gulped ever so slightly, and hey, guess what
Mori? You didn’t even notice. They felt like mocking Mori, for Dazai had the strongest card in
play right in their possession. Yes, it is perfectly normal to be quiet when your boss threatens you,
but at the moment, Dazai felt not a trace of fear. His eyes only watched, flickering back and forth as
if it was all simply a movie. It was such great situational irony that they almost believed life was
 a movie. To think, even Chuuya could pick up hints. Heck, Chuuya might even outclass Mori. He
knew he wasn’t supposed to show anything often, but if Mori caught the slight movement, both
would be sent to instructors. At least Chuuya knew which monsters to avoid.

Dazai felt like asking what an Old Man like him would do. But they already knew how much
power Mori held over Dazai, and they were not looking forwards to an example. The man holds
every aspect of Dazai’s existence over them. Clothing, food, mannerisms, everything. If Mori truly
wanted, he could get an entirely different person from Dazai. They were exactly what he needed at
the moment, so they doubt he will change them until returning.

They still would not believe they were taking on such a mission, and they expressed as such.
“We’re taking the mission then," It is not a question, but straight and effective. Anyone listening
wouldn’t gain any important information. Perfect Dazai, they could hear their parent saying, you
need to be perfect. They muttered as their now clammy hands squeezed over their ears, leaning
back onto the doorframe.

And acting like a worthless hero brat. Dazai whimpered internally. They wished they were that
hero child. Life would statistically be much easier. The universe never favored them. Doing the
mission would be torture or blissful, especially in a place like that. If they’re going to categorize
things by a clean cut, so could Dazai.

“Wait, what’s going on?” Chuuya said in a low tone, knowing to direct it towards Dazai. He
seemed almost dumb as he tilted his head and looked at them intently. Disgusting.

“Well, my little chibi, we have to infiltrate a hero school. Can you say that? He-ro sch-oool. ”
they sounded out, just for Chuuya as the world became red. “If you need more specifications, it’s
UA” Chuuya took a breath, then two, then three as Dazai pouted at the corner. Yet another attempt,
failed. They were called at the same time, so it was obvious they were working together. Though
Dazai is infiltration/stealth-based, Chuuya is strength-based. Both are perfect for an undercover
mission in hero society, each can do their respective jobs without being detected.

Dazai spoke impatiently, they knew that Chuuya was a bit slower during the morning hours, but he
ought to get over it later in the day. They can’t bear to work with slow-minded people; they can be
such a hindrance on the task. Unless Dazai knows the motive and absolutely needs a dimwitted
soul to carry out a mission, they will never allow trust to germinate.

“Anyways,” Mori cut in, his smile far too porcelain. The mask was cracking. Old Man? Is he going
to let go that quickly? Dazai never allows his facade to crumble so easily. And in front of a bunch
of children no less. “You will be collecting information while you are staying there. Only a handful
of the staff will be aware of your circumstances. Even that is a half truce. I am the owner of a
business, and it just so happens I have two young employees who are perfectly suited to protect due
to living in Yokohama.”

Do the heroes know about us? Chuuya’s eyes asked Dazai, once again wide out of fear. Then, his
eyes turned into more intense fear. Why did he cut off Mori, why did he cut off Mori, Why did he
cut off Mori, Why did he cut off- Dazai almost pitied him, but the Old Man himself seemed to be
in a good mood. Chuuya most likely would not face punishment today.

“Now, now Nakahara, before you go making assumptions, at least let me finish. Your mission is
to protect the students and gain information on All for One. He owes us an uncollected debt. It was
bound to be collected, it just so happens that it is now.”

“All for One?. . isn’t that the . . . person who steals abilities? Or was it copies . . .?” Chuuya
muttered to himself, as he stood up, dismissed by Mori.

“Ahh!!! Little chibi does have some spare brain cells after all” Dazai exclaimed rather loudly,
enough to where Mori could hear if only to piss them both off. They then slowly opened the door
and gazed back, a cocky smirk settling on their face.

“YOU BASTARD!!!” Chuuya was going to strangle Dazai, murder or not. Just wait until he has
enough wine to get through the day, Chuuya was going to fucking kill that bastard. He swears, he-

“Move along now children, I don’t want my office ruined again, now do I? Unless you are willing
to restore all documents, furniture, technology, and papers that will be lost in the process.” He said
as a cold reminder to Chuuya as he stiffly stood up, hesitantly opened the door, and ran after Dazai.
 Chapter 2
Chapter Notes

these chapters aren't long right now, averaging about 2,500-ish (for now)

I know it's a bit cut off, but while figuring out the spacing for the chapters, I realized
that this portion was already reaching 5k+, and didn't want to have a portion that was
10k+ with the intended format

See the end of the chapter for more notes

What an absolute pain. Nobody seemed to do what they were supposed to. Adjustments are
necessary for each plan, but this seemed too good to be true. Perhaps Mori knew something of
valuable information? Of course, he did. But how would he hold any power over Dazai? When you
know everything in life, you tend to plan things out so you can keep knowing things.

Dazai bit their nail. Fuck. Their teeth punctured skin. What did he have? How important was it?
Anything, anything at all? The documents at Mori’s side. Where was Elise? The blood dripped
down, staining the bandages. What was going on? Was he working to defeat a common enemy?
Only to backstab each other later, perhaps. How serious is it? Dazai’s eyes thinned and their face
crumpled in thought. Mori would never do something without reason. Whatever. Calm down. The
face smoothed out in a calm position, but when Dazai poked it, the skin was ever so stiff. Focus.

Even though both Chuuya and they were ideally suited together for operations, Chuuya was still a
bother. Why did he have to get stuck with the damn dirty asshole? His brain is slow during the
mornings, and not much of a difference happens later in the day. He is genuinely dull in terms of
intelligence compared to others in Dazai’s life. Chuuya does what you tell him to, never breaking
out of order. He never threatens the one holding the leash, instead falling to lick their boot. It was
truly a disgusting sight to see.

It made Dazai wonder how he could ever find his presence enjoyable. Entertaining? Sure. Finding
comfort in him was still something Dazai had yet to find in anyone, and he’d prefer if it was at
least a human. Despite coming to conclusions late, and using his fists in place of his mind, he
seemed so alive to Dazai. Every action he made spoke of fresh air, a way of life that was so
different from what was here.

Sometimes Dazai found himself wondering if he went to the mafia simply to meet Chuuya. In these
events, he would also ask himself who the real dog was. He wasn’t sure if he’d like to hear the
answer.

A dog turning over for an eel out of water. Who wants to work with an idiot who doesn’t listen to
their subordinates? He can lick Mori’s boot, but he can’t bark at other dogs. What a hypocrite.
Hurting others with force for doing the same thing instead of aiming for the head. If time efficiency
is what Mori needs, it's not Chuuya he’ll pick. He’ll pick Dazai.

However, if it’s strength instead… Chuuya will go. Anything that needs delicate care will end with
both utterly destroying it. Chuuya does seem to break everything he touches. They sighed. What a
troublesome task. Chuuya always had faults for Dazai to see.
When they ran to the building, it had taken far too long to get Chuuya off their back. Maybe if they
had been born as one being, life would be easier. Dazai could be dark to Chuuya’s light. It’s almost
sad that the light is already fading. Dazai does have a crippling effect on people.

They’ll feast on that mesmerizing brightness before that light dies out. Yes, that will happen in two
years. 15 years before Chuuya dies. The universe is cruel, drowning out even the people with the
brightest light, reducing them to nothing, allowing them, letting them, and forcing them to fall into
the void.

The worst part about the case is that it is nothing like a straightforward mission. Not that it was
intended to be, but it adds many more variables to Dazai’s plan. Chuuya may die sooner, and if
circumstances allow, they might too.

Was the possibility of losing power worth the 3% chance that they both will break? All this, to
make a false sense of security in their place? Damn you, Mori. Always making trouble that is never
enough to be interesting, but just barely enough to irritate Dazai. How idiotic to even think his plan
would work with just a three percent factor.

Children are always easier to manipulate, but there will be no underestimating from Dazai’s side.
Proving themselves will be easy, just do enough to pass the test and prove yourself by showing the
weaker version of an ability. From what they’ve researched, Musufatsu is a city based on pure
morals, justifying their actions by calling some “villains” and others “heroes. Personally, the only
ones that had even a remote amount of proper sense in Musufatsu were the vigilantes, hated by
everyone. Dazai can’t wait to see the response they’ll kick out of everyone when he and Chuuya
pop out of nowhere.

Their black-and-white views will be painful to witness but will make their minds more suspectable
and biased. Ironically, the hardest part won’t be to keep the children from knowing the truth,
despite how humans are driven by desire and curiosity, they will never know unless intended to.
No, the hardest part will be to keep them from assuming.

People always assume, subconsciously, or consciously, it’s a process the brain is constantly doing.
We create patterns for identifying new material and such, it’ll be impossible for Dazai to prevent
them from noticing details. As long as they are noticing and not realizing it won’t be much of a
problem for them. The sooner the mission ends, the sooner Dazai can finish their plan.

Mori wanted to add on problems, what an insufferable doctor. Somedays, it seemed as though it
was the bastard’s single hobby. Soukoku never needed to know their place, they’ve been beaten,
and have beaten others to earn their place. Dazai has manipulated the seams of the port mafia to
bend at their will. What did Mori do? Manipulate a single old man as his mind was deteriorating?
How deserving he was. What a hypocrite.

Classes had already started, adding more people they supposedly needed to prove. People always
say they need evidence and proof, but they’d rather hear the lie. The sweet, sugar-coated lie that
makes them feel better about themselves. Even in schools, things like, “I don’t think you’re a bad
person,” or “That was great!!! Good job.” are constantly heard, and gossip happens all over the
school.

Reputation isn’t earned, it’s spread until everyone knows the false version of you that never
existed. Classes in Musufatsu aren’t here, at this time, all of them are probably on spring break.
Students are bound to be at home, studying for the classes unless they’re deemed powerful enough
to be taken to the slaughterhouse that is society.

Arrogant people who’ve never truly seen life outside of their lie will forever live ignorant of the
other side of society. To tell the truth, they won’t care. They will live to believe that everyone has
it just as good, and they will victimize themselves, now seeing their situation as the norm.

Dazai doesn’t doubt that they’ll see it happen, especially since they’re going into a ‘hero school’
full of arrogant children. Mori loves to make Dazai suffer, doesn’t he? Unfortunately, none of it
should pose a problem. What a pity, they would not be tortured today.

In some ways, the old doctor had made aspects easier. Going with everyone else for the entrance
exam would have brought excessive attention. And being younger allows prideful wolves to lure
the so-called rabbits in, only to fall from what little grace they had. These wolves were not
ferocious beasts, but mere pups, and the rabbits are no rabbits at all. If anyone was doing to saving,
it was Soukoku.

Double black, with their eyes that see all, with their minds that warp reality, with their strength that
crushes anyone daring enough to come near. The Demon Prodigy and the Mafia’s Loyal Dog.
None would see them as threats. After all, who in their right mind would see two innocent children,
who desperately want to help, as a threat?

You would have to be mad. You would have to see the lowest of humanity to assume the worst.
But no one in that pity school had seen the slightest hint of pain.

No one had been torn apart by dogs, ripped to shreds with those sharp teeth as both animals and
humans struggle to survive. Those people, heroes, wouldn’t feel grateful to help the animals and
finally be rid of the suffering that is Yokohama.

To be defiled at such a young age by old people, with their hands that forever taint and mark, that
drag on your skin hard enough to cut. To survive at a young age off of laundering money, putting
your mind to use.

To be valued not of abilities, or quirks, but your ability to make it out alive. Those children hadn’t
yet been killed, they haven’t been taught their place yet. Dazai bets their life that certainly none of
them had seen or felt the wrath of the Port Mafia.

Dazai refuses to save them. Why should he bother with such ignorant children, whose eyes were
already blinded by the very ideals that were set to create fairness? No, Dazai will wrap their
bandages around everyone’s throats, around their eyes, and replace that barrier. Traded a leash for
yet another leash isn’t hard to do when your dog is already domesticated. Take Chuuya as an
example.

Dazai is going to help them find their use. Everyone has one, it takes but a few strings pulled for
them to be useful in a situation.

He hopes that by the time he gets there, their strings won’t have been cut so early on in the game.

What concerns him, however, is Mori’s interest in the playing field. He’d purposefully left out
important intel to see what Dazai might do, and it angered him. What was his involvement with this
project? Mori had a sense of moderation in how he acted around Dazai and others, he never cared
if things were being done if they were finished correctly. When he was involved, to personally
order the two of them by sending him to his office personally, it meant that none other than those
who entered would be aware of what went on.

Is he getting ready to dispose of them? Dazai didn’t know. Mori didn’t treat him like a human
being. They were all chess pieces in each other’s game, meant to utilize the other in whichever way
would bring the most benefit. What benefit would this bring?
Putting aside his thoughts, Dazai gathered the basic facts. One, classes had most likely already
started. This meant it was an urgent matter, one of most importance that was ordered just recently.
It’s likely something large is going to impact both Yokohama and Musufatsu greatly, something
that will bring both factions together. From here, Dazai could only try to gather which part of
Musufatsu called the Port Mafia out willingly.

It would be far harder for them to go unnoticed, especially with their younger status and greater
skill set. Chuuya would have to limit himself to the extremes; Dazai could find himself chuckling
as he imagined the agitated squaking Chuuya would give when he finds out.

They would most likely underestimate their abilities to play an elaborate act, but if anyone were
smart enough to gather all known details, it would not be hard to figure out their intentions. Though
this was an exciting opportunity to investigate the outer world, Dazai sighed imagining the amount
of work he’d have to do, rubbing his head in a forlorn manner. Children could be the hardest to
please, if Dazai got too carried away with the act and overdid the role, they might become
suspicious, so he would have to stay at a suitable pace constantly.

For Chuuya, he’d mix up his current personality with the fake one to minimize the acting that his
poor dog would have to endure.

Could working as prodigies work? Maybe they were simply smaller for their ages. Dazai doubted
the lie would work, maybe for Chuuya, as it was partially true, but for the both of them, who don’t
even look related? It was a meager try at best. He supposes the pitiful prodigies storyline would
work well enough, as yet again, it wasn’t too far off the target, but then others would stop
underestimating them as much. Two children, one versed in smarts and the other in strength,
simply popping out of nowhere after spring break, in the middle of a disastrous event?

Dazai was going to get a headache if they went with that route; it meant playing a more
complicated role than he’d prefer. He decided he’d choose whatever role suited their environment
best. After all, their entire concept depended on the perception of them by their fellow classmates.

He can’t wait to build all of them carefully up, stack all the cards in his favor, and let it all fall
down. Dazai will meticulously and painstakingly build them all into the perfect puppets that they
were chosen to be. Certainly, Mori wouldn’t mind if he gathered some more pieces in his favor,
right? He thought, grinning almost manically as he sighed with glee.

Dazai will slowly corrupt them with Yokohama’s brutality, otherwise, their worldview might
crumble. It would simply be glorious to see what they could do if they simply let go of their biased
moral compasses. They had no understanding of the real world, or others in general. To be specific,
they judged without right or understanding, Dazai doubted they saw others as human.

While they’re there, Dazai will teach Chuuya the main routes of acting. Etiquette certainly helps in
Yokohama, something that Chuuya rather favored in Koyou’s immense courses. Unfortunately, his
dog would have to learn to keep it on in front of everyone and bow his head to those weaker than
himself. In general, they’d most likely have to ‘dumb themselves down’ to fit the hero’s rather mild
palettes. If the acting class will do anything to Chuuya’s stubborn learning skills, he might pick up
habits by mirroring the students surrounding them. Thankfully, if the tiny human didn’t have
enough smarts as he claimed he did, the cliche sob story could fill in the missing gaps.

In the meanwhile, Dazai will be occupied searching for any information that may give them the
advantage, leads, building relationships, and a synopsis of their situation. He could feel his soul
wanting to dispose of his body when he imagined the horrific work that would surely cause a
future migraine.
Rules would be set and enforced harshly. Those will be the words that bind their very beings
together while they are in distant territory. He couldn’t have his loyal mutt acting out of his orders
and causing a scene; Dazai didn’t want to keep Chuuya muzzled in favor of keeping him around for
lack of mutual boredom apart. Despising each other as they did, they were constantly together,
thereby causing a form of mutual understanding. If that is what the world calls friendship, the
relationship between Chuuya and himself was undoubtedly those of friendship. He preferred to be
stuck in an endless loop of time with someone as life-like as Chuuya. It felt real enough to distract
Dazai from his own rotting mind.

Ah, he supposed his beloved suicide would have to wait. She never wished to take him into her
endearing arms and hold him tight. No, instead she led him on to throw him away again and again,
constantly begging him to join her once again, to feel some form of rest against her cold form. He
could suppress a desire to run up beside her, but Dazai could not be entertained for long. One way,
he would come back to her in a fleeting manner as he always did.

A last chance. He would give her one last chance before leaving her with Yokohama. Without
glancing back at his burner phone, Dazai paced around the area until he staggered to his makeshift
sink, taking a small glass of water under the tap until it was filled completely. Glancing at the
yellow bottles under his filthy mattress, he took one that had yet to be opened and poured the entire
contents into his mouth.

He didn’t want to wake up again. The night was cold and unforgiving, not bothering to act like
death. How could they ever be mistaken for one another? They were sisters, nothing more, nothing
less. In a small moment, Dazai hoped that the moon had encaptured him before the soft
encouraging whispers of death ever found him. In any case, if he woke up, he reasoned that his
head would make him wish death had taken him.

——————————————————————————————

True to his expectations, Dazai wanted nothing more than to forget his meaningless longing for
another life. He supposed he couldn’t trade out the cards he was born with, and that he could only
accumulate more cards in order to turn death in his favor.

Stumbling out of bed like a newly born foal, Dazai barely managed to put his uniform on and place
the phone in his pocket, pausing to rest his warm head on the shipping container’s cold surface.
Sighing gently, Dazai pried his arms from his side and pushed off of the wall, walking sharply to
the entrance and closing it shut for an indefinite amount of time. He wouldn’t miss it.

As he walked past other members going about their day, he endlessly daydreamed about the life
that could have been. What life would Chuuya live without Dazai? It was easy to imagine Chuuya
in a universe without Dazai. But where was Dazai without Chuuya? His mind went blank. Was he
really so reliant on such a useless member? He hadn’t remembered the start of this one-sided
affection.
Dazai stopped in front of a staircase that lead to his first true encounter with the Port Mafia. He
could almost feel the malice, excitement, and the common urge to use Dazai that was once directed
at him by Mori himself. And how the putrid, vile doctor had been there, sitting in his tiny office
that was floors down from where he wished to be. He always had the best instinct for prodding
around broken areas until he found something special.

For the entirety of his stay in that cramped office thereafter, Mori handled Dazai with utmost care
to ensure it could be used to its fullest potential. Even Dazai could admire how he could have been
used seamlessly. He would have been the perfect tool if he himself didn’t have the desire to use it.

Anyone else would say Mori ruined him, depriving him of his childhood, only to become a doll for
someone he did not care for. Yet Dazai could not help but a little bit of gratefulness to the man, for
giving him the tools to rid of him entirely and continue the cycle of understanding. One day,
Dazai’s turn would be over, and someone else would take his place.

Not bothering to knock, Dazai walked into Mori’s new office, making sure to recount every needed
preparation. The mission failing so early on in his future life would be a large disappointment and a
hindering factor on his steady rise to the top of the chamber. Previously, he had known of the basic
outside life, but the lack of communication hindered him from knowing the excessive details.

Dazai stood there, waiting, thinking, for anything to happen. It was moments like these in which
Dazai desperately wished to kill the elder man out of pure boredom. Where was he? Dazai didn’t
know, and quite frankly, didn’t care. The more pressing matter was why he would ever feel safe
enough to leave his office unattended to Dazai’s complete and utter mercy.

His dear partner will be arriving soon, and knowing this, Dazai naturally smirked and prepared
their grand welcome. Reassuring himself, he thought that at least someone would be here to annoy
soon.

Hearing an angry stomp in the distance, Dazai perked up slightly, turning toward the door in
preparation to watch as it was slammed open.

“Chuuuuyyyyaaaa~” Dazai meowled tauntingly, their obnoxiously high-pitched voice practically

singing out to force annoyance upon their companion. He made sure to relax his face, letting it
mold itself into a devilishly playful face, drawing his fingers out to further antagonize the angered
chihuahua.

“What the hell do you want, you shitty mackerel.” Chuuya managed to spit out from pure irritation.
It wasn’t a question, but rather a follow-up in the hopes of getting Dazai to shut up. He wasn’t
looking forward to an answer at all but kept still to stop himself from immediately punching the
other boy.

“Oh, are you all touchy today? We’re going to need to work on those anger issues you know, we
can’t have you barking at the higher-ups! Oh righttt~!!! I’m not even sure if dogs with brains as
small as yours can even be taught more tricks, my bad!” Dazai said, their eyes twinkling with
mischief as they looked the other way almost innocently and covered their mouth with their hands.

He almost seemed to glow up in pure bliss and ecstasy after seeing Chuuya’s facial expression, he
was twitching as if reverting back to his dog-like habits. Dazai desperately wanted to assure
himself he didn’t care, yet he always seemed to harbor a tiny spot for Chuuya’s specific illusion. It
didn’t matter if everyone else saw through it as long as his dog believed his owner’s command
wholeheartedly.

Crafted specifically for Chuuya to not get entirely bored and somewhat entertained, Dazai himself
could find himself getting lost in it. When he came back down from the highs his dog ensured him,
nothing mattered anymore. Facades were all Dazai had left in the world to make him truly feel
things, as soon as they were gone and Dazai was left to his true self, he could only feel an immense
self-loathing that had been harbored in his mind since birth.

“HAH?! What did you just say, Bandages?” He raised his fist threateningly as his veins popped out
against his smooth skin and his face turned an impossible shade of red.

So maybe Chuuya had been before. Dazai didn’t think it was possible, but Chuuya’s already low
tolerance span had gotten even lower. Had something happened while he was gone?
“Hey, tiny. Did you come here earlier?” Dazai rested against the wall’s corner, closely observing
Chuuya’s reaction. He seemed shocked, he noted carefully.

“Yeah, you shitty asshole,” Chuuya said, “I came here earlier, and Kouyou told me the Boss had
‘urgent matters’ to attend to. Why?” He asked back, folding his arms and turning his attention back
to Dazai. Why the hell wasn’t Dazai informed of what was taking place? As much as Chuuya hated
to admit it, it didn’t make sense for him to be informed in place of Dazai.

Interesting. Mori shouldn’t have ever let them interact without his supervision if he wanted to keep
secrets and to have them spilled across his own territory. The irony almost made Dazai laugh
aloud.

A shrill ring shot through their conversation like a clean bullet cutting cleanly through flesh, as if
intending to save Mori. A skull that Dazai has seen too many times crossed through his mind at
that moment, faces piling through his mind as if some desperate entity wished for Dazai Osamu to
feel an imitation of regret. His eyes dulled considerably.

Dazai glanced at Chuuya, the two having a silent argument over whom would take the phone. He
sighed, looking away from Chuuya. Why did he always have to look at Dazai like that? Like he’d
lost his mind? Dazai hated it.

“What? I’m just wondering if the old geezer’s timing could get any worse. Everybody else thinks
the same, but never acts upon saying it, so why am I in the wrong?” He remarked rather lamely, an
innocent look on his face with a non-existent glitter surrounding his body and eyes. It seemed to
coil around the pupils of Dazai’s eyes as if constricting them entirely, forcing them to shrink
considerably, a look that seemed to appear solely whilst in the middle of battle. And when he
wanted it to, apparently. What a fucking bastard, Chuuya thought, cussing out his handsome face.

“There’s a reason nobody else says everything they think, you stupid fish,” Chuuya replied angrily,
now looking at the floor with clenched fists. “Why do you hate him anyways? Nothing significant
happened between you, and if it did, you never talk about it. And you had a choice to join. I
didn’t.” he bitterly added, meeting Dazai’s eyes.

Ha… haha. “It really was nothing significant. Am I not allowed to have feelings, dear Chuuya? I’m
rather hurt.” He would do anything to keep this version of himself just a little longer. Sparks of
pain could be felt across his chest as a reminder of what he’d done. Dazai trusted Chuuya, as pitiful
as it might be.

He supposed there was someone he should thank for this reminder. Mori’s call was still ringing
endlessly in the distance, but to Dazai, it seemed so utterly distant compared to how close Chuuya
was. Nothing good came out of trust in Yokohama. Younger him would be insulting him for
forgetting this seemingly simple, irrelevant fact.

Chuuya disbelieved him. He couldn’t trust anything that damned idiot had to say. “Really, I don’t
hate him,” Dazai stated as if he were talking about a cloud above. “I don’t have any feelings toward
him at all. Why? Did you think I was human for a second Chuuya? How considerate!” Chuuya
stood at his spot, shaking in a frozen position.

He punched Dazai. Hard. And Dazai accepted it with loving arms. Whose fault was it if he couldn’t
handle his own form of care back? In truth, Dazai felt an overall despise for Mori. He hated him
for what he did, but more because he couldn’t understand him. Persistently wishing that somehow,
just somehow, Chuuya would understand.

The ringing noise faded completely. Dazai couldn’t tell what had happened; had he given up
entirely, or had Dazai momentarily stopped receiving anything that wasn’t from Chuuya? If
Chuuya could understand what Dazai was attempting to tell, if he could read in between the lines,
Chuuya would have related to him. He would have comforted him. That’s what Chuuya prefers to
think when looking back, he doesn’t want to imagine what he might truly have done. What he
would have done to Dazai.

In the end, no one was to blame for anything. Everyone would collectively wear the burden. That’s
how the mafia worked. For Dazai and Chuuya, that was the sole factor they relied on. Everyone
there was fucked up. A small part of Chuuya wanted to believe that they were normal. It was the
outsiders that were too sheltered from reality. (A smaller, tinier portion of him wished they would
have been included with those happy souls from the start. Maybe then Dazai wouldn’t have died
that so miserably.)

What was reality? Dazai always mentioned offhandedly that it differed from person to person, that
everyone wore tinted glasses and very few wanted to take them off, to face a dull world head-on.
Chuua thinks that Dazai was never born with these glasses. Living in there for so long must have
eaten the spark of life in Dazai’s eyes long ago.

Chuuya desperately wished he was there to save him. Past be damned, they were all they had in a
fucked up way. Dazai brought him in, and for the love of god, Chuuya was going to stay with him
until the world burnt down.

To think they had survived, climbing up the ranks by stepping on bodies and limbs thrown astray
at this age was something Chuuya felt unease about. His eyes were always set on the blue sky
above, on what the world had set for his future. Dazai was stuck at the top glancing down at
Chuuya occasionally, setting his sights on the deep depths of the sea. They reminded him of
Chuuya’s eyes, or at least, that’s what he told the other in a fit of laughter.

Younger Chuuya would have been proud. Not that he remembered him. Some days, he wishes he
did. Family, friends, hopes, and dreams were all left behind. On other days, Chuuya is plagued by
nightmares that haunt his every living moment. Life was bad without memories. He didn’t need
anything else. Chuuya didn’t want to know if there was a family looking for him.

Last time he’d hoped for family, and miraculously found it. Look where that ended Sheep. They
were gone. He was done with half-finished hopes and promises. Goodbyes were sent to Young
Chuuya.

After all the time he and Dazai spent together, Chuuya only realized soon after this argument that
he didn’t know a thing about Dazai. They had worked together as partners, fought against each
other, cared for each other, and Chuuya wasn’t sure if he’d bothered to even ask what Dazai’s
favorite color was. (In the future, Dazai would simply give a knowing smile and walk away,
beckoning Chuuya to follow with a wave of his hand. He still didn’t know.)

Secrets from deep within Chuuya were spilled, along with slight mentions of his past, and the
beginning of his new memories. Most were shared in the timespan it takes a leech to hook onto
their new subject. Chuuya himself was surprised at the little time it had spent. No one else was.
Chuuya didn’t understand that he wasn’t the leech, Dazai was. Constantly taking what he needs
from you, whether it be information, status, or your life.

Dazai wanted to see Chuuya live his own life. He was willing to give up his own if it meant
Chuuya could live his life forever. Anything for Chuuya.

Did Chuuya feel the same?

 He could barely imagine Dazai’s past, let alone remember when he’d ever bothered to tell Chuuya
anything of value. What Dazai could have possibly gone through to reach this level in the Mafia, to
drag Chuuya up with him, or how long he’d resided in the dark, Chuuya didn’t know. It rather hurt
him to realize his own lack of awareness in the simple fact that he’d never truly known Dazai. On
dark nights, Dazai would dream of nothing while Chuuya looks at the stars. He supposes that’s
when everything went downhill.

He also guesses that they’d never really had a relationship, to begin with. Only a game to pass the
time, lest one of them gets bored.

Chapter End Notes

Edit : 8/14/23
I've only realized how different my personality and writing style is now. This chapter
is 5K+ words, which I revised almost only yesterday. Sorry for taking an enormous
break! I got put in a mental ward, and the character development caused me to gain
worse depression, which always makes my writing better? Somehow? (I'm thinking it's
a suitable coping mechanism of mine, and it distracts me from reality, 10/10.)

I'd recommend re-reading, as I'm changing almost everything that doesn't fit my
writing anymore. All the chapters will be edited by the end of this week, and I'll post
the 8th chapter on the last day. Thank you all so much for staying with this fic even
though its literal trash :D

Take care, everyone :)

I've decided to keep this fic, but due to mental illnesses, I won't set deadlines. (They
cause me to write less somehow, idk, don't ask me???? never be reborn as a
neurodivergent person, it sucks :(
I'm getting a psychiatrist to give me some meds that will help me function like a
normal human being, cause the last meds gave me to the ward :/
traitors
 racing death
Chapter Summary

I'm in the process of re-editing some of these chapters, so unfortunately the smaller
details may change a bit as I fix everything

Be sure to drink lots of water <3

Chuuya fell completely silent, beckoning Dazai to continue his words. He wanted to understand, he
did. Dazai didn’t want to explain. It was a major waste of time to bother talking about himself, and
Mori? A colossal waste of time and words would be the equivalent of what Chuuya wanted. Which
was odd, Dazai didn’t take him for the wasteful type.

Their mind only worked in a constant spiral downward. Trust never got Dazai anywhere. He was
just as insignificant as Mori, they were all bugs to be trampled in the end. That’s all anything ever
was. So when did Chuuya become an exception? Dazai himself didn’t know. All he knew, was that
it was something that needed to be changed.

He himself was nothing great. Worth and Dazai were two words that would only fit together in a
way that Dazai has worth when others use him. Once they are done, Dazai goes back to his
hopeless self. After listening to Chuuya’s sorrows, he supposed the other could be a bit more
considerate of trashed time, yet, Dazai was wrong again.

It was a mistake to fall into the warm abyss of trust. Telling anyone of that horrible household and
its terrors, its suffocating images that haunted Dazai, swirling inside of his perpetually diseased
mind, would never happen. He had hoped that Chuuya would be the first to know. Now, it was
time to bury those feelings and move on. Stop circling on the past, stop looking down at fallen
souls, and start looking at the same scene Chuuya himself was looking at.

The twinge of pain in his chest blossomed, taking over his mind. It wasn’t right for someone like
Dazai to look at the same, human world that Chuuya looked at. He would end up tainting it with
his darkness. Chuuya did not deserve that. Such a shame. It was disgraceful for beautiful, pure
Chuuya to ever make contact with someone lacking humanity such as Dazai.

Dazai slept so soundly that he seemed dead. Hunger was a foreign concept. Of course, he knew the
prospect of it, to give you a motive to eat, yet, he’d never had the desire to. Life simply happened
and passed by. Until he caught a glimpse of fiery red hair streaming past him. He would exhaust
Chuuya asking for more of that life he so desperately wanted to see. He couldn’t. No matter how
long Dazai went on with life, he would never feel the same hunger that others did for life.
The conclusion of many was that though Dazai appears to belong to the same species as Chuuya,
they are quite different creatures entirely. In his case, such an expression as “to care for” or even
“to be trusted” is not in the least appropriate; perhaps it describes the situation more accurately to
say that he was “observed.”

Dazai concluded that though he appears to belong to the same species as Chuuya, they are different
creatures entirely. It made no sense for someone, as twisted as Dazai, to stuff himself full of lively
energy. He sucked off life from others, and Chuuya would be next. Nevertheless, he chose to stay,
knowing himself that if Chuuya ever died, it would be Dazai’s fault. Until the day Chuuya left the
world completely, as unimaginable as that sounded, Dazai would stay around him with an
insatiable demand to see his life to the fullest.

It was safe to say that Dazai’s mind was rotting more quickly than anyone could have anticipated.

Even now, as Chuuya stared him back into his corner trying to rid of him completely, he was
fascinated by the existence of Chuuya Nakahara. And, like a dog backed against the alleyway, they
began the one thing they could rely on whilst distracted. They lied. While they could say what was
true and what was false, no matter what he ever said, everything was a lie for the mere fact that
Dazai didn’t exist. If the embodiment of a lie tells a truth, it doesn’t matter, because it’s a lie either
way. He shapes the environment with such lies, and it comforts him in return.

There were always different types of lies, and half-truths, from malicious to comforting ones, from
ones that are meant to make others believe it, and others you make with the intent for the other to
see through it. Lower grunts in the mafia may know the same things as Dazai does, but they are far
too scared of the wrath that may occur if they dare say something. Dazai had no regard for his life,
which allowed him to progress smoothly to the front despite challenges that occurred because of
this.

Unfortunately, Chuuya couldn’t understand Dazai’s truth. Was it because there was no truth, nor
any lies? Deceit always existed, but it is deceitful to act as a lie yourself? Chuuya’s eyes look so
lovely from here, the lights flickering on them to create the effect that he’d only seen on broken
marbles. Dazai wanted to get lost in Chuuya’s blues, in his reds, in his blacks.

Chuuya always was a stubborn victim, and after what felt like hours of awkward silence to him
with Dazai’s bright smile facing him. Mori was a rather intelligent and valuable asset, he couldn’t
risk losing him. Life gets boring without someone to match your wits, and without a purpose, what
use is it to continue your stalemate? Death always welcomed him; he couldn’t say the same of life.

They were two sides of the same coin, so close yet so far apart. His obsession with it most likely
had to do with the fact that life and death reminded him of Chuuya and himself. It’s natural for an
owner to love their loyal dog. Deceit is one of the few things that will never be wiped from the
records, even after death. That’s why some choose to leave early anyway, if nothing happens,
sometimes it’s just better to escape entirely.

When would Chuuya back off? If Dazai were any other being, he certainly would have felt
uncomfortable facing that piercing glare. He didn’t mind simply because it was Chuuya. This
wouldn’t stop until external prevention occurred to stop them. Choosing to be stubborn and ignore
the facts, Dazai kept looking back at him, leaning further back against the corner.

Dazai wasn’t one to talk about values, especially after what they’d done. Someone like Chuuya
would be far more suitable. Chuuya, with his loud personality and hair. His annoying remarks,
selfish personality, and human nature. With his ocean eyes that lulled Dazai into them at every
moment of the day. He wished Chuuya could invade his mind as he did to Dazai’s heart.

Chuuya would never find out what Dazai was. Because Dazai couldn’t ever let that happen. He’d
hoped that Chuuya would embrace every bit of him, but Chuuya wasn’t capable of understanding.
Not with Dazai. So, he’d be stuck to his side instead. It wasn’t such a horrible fate to condemn
Dazai to.

For a moment, Chuuya’s eyes glazed over, and all Dazai could think about was if Chuuya
understood. Even if it were just for a second. It was a fleeting hope. The distant sunlight never
seemed to touch Dazai, for all its worth. It avoided him in plain daytime, never once truly touching
him. Even the giant windows adorning each wall seemed to face only Chuuya. He encaptured
everything around him, a light to the bugs that followed him in times of darkness.

Mori’s seat was still unmistakenly empty, and for a while, Dazai wondered if anyone had ever sat
there. Chuuya would match it better than Dazai. He was better than Dazai in every way that
mattered. Nothing was out of place, but everything felt out of order. The patterned carpet was far
too large and clashed uncomfortably with the floor. The windows glared at Dazai, telling him to
back off from Chuuya. They tainted the area with a warm glow, taunting Dazai to move closer.
Chuuya’s pretty blue eyes were moving from a glazed look to fuzzy, so gentle and unlike the angry
waves they were. Suddenly, Dazai couldn’t make out what Chuuya looked like at all. His hair was
annoyingly drifting in their face, and with a lack of motivation to fix it, it itched his scalp. Their
bandages matched his rough skin, tightening around it to trap Dazai. The skin felt uncomfortably
tight, trying to escape from Dazai, and the entire room stank like a rotting corpse.

Dazai wasn’t thinking correctly. His train of thought was lost, something that happens surprisingly
often. He needed to think correctly now. It was not the time to be getting distracted, except he
couldn’t breathe now, and- stop.
His smile left his face and so did the once gentle shine in his eyes. Mori was calling. He shouldn’t
have made him wait. Letting it ring once more, the unmistakably shrill sound seemed so foreign as
Dazai basked in its volume to distract himself. Chuuya should pick it up first, it’d be far more
entertaining than Dazai. However, he couldn’t trust Mori’s annoyance levels, and his obsession
with Dazai knew no bounds. He was not going to allow Chuuya to use this as leverage, so, with a
shakey vision and a hazy mind, he managed to hold the phone to their left ear.

“I sincerely apologize for letting you wait, Mori-san. What is it that you wanted to inform us of?”
Dazai could hear himself saying clearly, albeit a bit distantly. Chuuya had it out for Dazai. Why
were they shaking? The world was spinning. He feared the other gaining sympathy for Dazai,
treating him as a human, an idiot child of an organization much larger than he should be able to
handle.

“Ah, Dazai! I advise you to not leave your superiors waiting in the future. It might lead to
undesirable circumstances. We have already sent both of you the address in which you will be
staying as well as your circumstances. Everything needed for this mission will be provided, but
only pack the necessities.” Chuuya stirred up a bit, color returning to his focused eyes, and before
Dazai could reply, he grabbed the phone from him. Butting in, he put it to his ear and responded
with a formal “Understood.” Why was Chuuya acting so diligently on the part of a loyal
subordinate? Chuuya was his dog. Not that it mattered, but Mori always preferred people to show
their true colors if they had the talent to back it up.

Mind games like this were always more rewarding on the other side of manipulatees. Dazai
supposes that’s why they’re played so often. Unfortunately, unless you have a purpose, they’re
practically useless. If you want to gamble, it’d be better to go to a casino that will offer you the
highest of highs and the lowest of lows a human can succumb to. Thrilling matters are much better
than whatever Mori could provide Dazai. So many years, deaths, and Dazai had not yet found life
for himself. He’d only found Chuuya.

They could see Chuuya fumbling with the phone, cautiously setting it back down on its casing. He
was lucky, Dazai would feel too bothered to do something so pointless and may have simply
dropped in on the floor on his way out. Thinking this, Dazai looked on with an amused expression,
and he slowly walked away from the corner, stopping to look at Chuuya.

“So…” he started with an unusually calm tone of voice, his eyebrows still stuck in a permanent
frowning position. “We’re supposed to check the information they’ve given us? Do you have it?”
It pissed him off to ask Dazai for anything. He put his hands behind his back, perfectly hiding his
hands from the other, which put a smile on Dazai’s face. He never failed to annoy Chuuya out with
the simplest of things, even to this day. The thought of this reminded Dazai of a dog constantly on
edge, prompting him to provoke Chuuya.

“Yeah, he said that on the phone. Why would I have it? Are you stupid? Do you have hearing
problems, you stupid mutt?”

“Of course, I can fucking hear, can’t you?! Don’t you usually have stupid shit like this ready, you
freak?”

“Woah, what a coincidence dear dog! I can hear too! And yes, I do have things ready. But I can’t
have something before it’s even been made, Chuuya. Why are you yelling at me for asking a
simple question, I’m not the one with a bad taste in shoes Chuuya, it’s not right for you to take your
anger out on others!” He teased mockingly, rushing out of the room before Chuuya could process
what was said. It was nice to know that Chuuya could still be riled up so easily, and more so that
their conversation hadn’t damaged what was left of Chuuya’s brain.

Shouting could be heard steadily following Dazai, with heavy stomps on the floor that Dazai was
sure would leave dents. He could never let Chuuya live anything up, so instead, he started shouting
random insults in return, picking up his pace despite his lungs’ protests.

The staircases should give him a slight follow-up, they could get Chuuya lost in them while
Dazai’s busy running away.

—------------------

Dazai won. Again. Chuuya mourned over another loss; how Dazai kept winning with that lanky
body, Chuuya would never know. Maybe he knew the layout better? No, Chuuya had been here for
a while, and he was certain he knew almost everything there could be to know. Secret pathways?
Probably. Cheating? Definitely. If only Chuuya could get his hands on whatever Dazai had,
Chuuya thought, gritting his teeth maliciously.

“Chuuuuyaaaaa!” Dazai’s ominous voice sang out through the hallways.

“What the hell do you want?” Chuuya bitterly grumbled.

His utter defeat still hung over his head. He wasn’t in the mood to deal with Dazai anymore, and
who could blame him? Chuuya’s sure that most people couldn’t bear to live with the real Dazai on
a day-to-day basis. Chuuya shuddered. He’d break them. How many guards had Dazai been
through before Horitsu? Too many, that’s what. That’s also why Chuuya’s pay might be slightly,
maybe just a bit higher than Dazai’s.

Chuuya smirked. At least that was one thing he was far above Dazai in. Money. This mindset
allowed him to forget Dazai’s incessant nagging, at least for a little while.

Dazai poked his cheek.

This brought him out of it.

“What should I bring Chuuyaa?~”

Chuuya hated it when Dazai did that, because their “innocent baby voice”, as Dazai dubbed it, was
annoying enough for a facility nearby to be mysteriously ruined.

Chuuya bet one, no, ten thousand dollars that Dazai *did not* sound like that as a child either.

Sighing, he answered. “Well-”

“Noooo. Chuuuyaaa, I’ve got all the essentials, but, what else? Are we planning to bring any
contraband, like those mini explosives that we used to blow up toilets last time? Or are we going to
do something more devious, personally, I-”

He twitched angrily. Did Dazai really have to cut him off at all times? How damned arrogant did
someone have to be?

Sometimes, Chuuya wanted to kick the fuck out of Dazai. Which was to say, every day. He was
insufferable at best and the worst part was that it was probably Dazai’s intention to come across
that way.

Unfortunately, Chuuya really wanted a sense of superiority, and that would only come from
ignoring Dazai. Instead, with a dramatic sigh, he asked what the everlasting fuck Dazai wanted
from him.

“Oh, well-” he grinned slightly, his lips not quite curling up at the edges.

“That’s what I thought,” a confident grin rolled back onto Chuuya’s face as though it had never left
in the first place. His arms were no longer at the back of his head, but now taking place in his
pockets as he leaned back in his chair.

“You always have to get the last word in, don’t you?” he sighed fondly.

“Hey,” he stretched, leaning forward, “could you get me something from that vending machine
over there?”

“Ah, chibis getting so lazy!” he remarked briefly, before smiling at Chuuya and rushing to go get
strawberry milk.

“It might help you grow you know!”

“Shut up, just give me the fucking drink.” Chuuya snarked back. He took a sip and paused. “We
need to get ready. Fuck. We need to be ready as soon as possible.” Chuua was just, so close, to
losing it and sending this building 70 feet in the sky.

“Sure, asshat. Mori always wants us to be “ready”, doesn’t he?” Dazai whispered under their breath
as they both raced to get their luggage.

Chuuya won, this time.

 Of Newfound Love and Courage
Chapter Summary

WARNING : SHIP AHEAD!!!! It's soukoku, and they finally get out. Sorry if this
chapter is boring, but it'll get better in the next chapter, I had to scrap my previous plan
for future reasons so this was a bit more of a filler with some plot related stuff (._.)

Chapter Notes

See the end of the chapter for notes

If Chuuya wasn’t astoundedly annoyed before the car ride, he most definitely was now. As if
sitting in the car wasn't enough, Dazai wouldn’t stop humming that goddamned suicide song. It
was unendurable. It was going to drive Chuuya crazy if he wasn't gone already.

“Shinjū wa hitori de wa dekinai” Dazai seamlessly tuned as they smiled bigger and bigger,
watching Chuuya's reflection. They now turned towards Chuuya in pure bliss as they watched his
expression twitch at mere words. He was soo easy to poke at. Chuuya's reactions were rather
entertaining, besides, there was nothing else to accomplish when they were only sitting in the
typical black limousine. Nothing to do but watch the alleyways.

A hand covered Dazai’s mouth mockingly. “Oh don’t tell me . . .” they never finished that
sentence before Chuuya was glaring daggers at them, and if pure will could commit actions, Dazai
would probably be chocking right about now.

He was going to kill them. It had been ten minutes and fucking Dazai, that arrogant bastard seemed
to yearn for death. For Pete’s sake, Chuuya had half a coin to punch them right now. Sure Kōyō
might be disappointed, but it certainly wasn't out of the regular. Besides, as much as Chuuya hated
disappointment, it might be nice for some quality time with her. Even if it entailed etiquette
classes.

"Doo do do do" Chuuya was going to kill them as soon as they left the car, or better yet, why not
now???

No. Think rationally, he needed Dazai for this mission as much as he hated to even think of the
idea, Dazai would be useless if not in the field. Chuuya couldn’t act for the life of himself. Breathe.
In, out, in, out-
“Heh.” Dazai sighed as Chuuya's eyebrows twitched further.

NO CHUUYA STOPPIT DON'T HIT THEM-

His fist had almost acted on its own. Looking at Dazai’s condescending face, he was slightly
regretful that it hadn’t gone crashing at Dazai. They knew how to piss him off. Such was the life of
partners. Redirect his attention somewhere slightly more meaningful, he forced his eyes out of the
window.

“Oh Chuuuyaaaa~,” Dazai said, as they poked at Chuuya’s shoulders. “What do you want, you
shitty mackerel?” as he continued to pointlessly stare out the window. It was grey outside. It was
always grey outside, but it was almost depressing knowing that they'd be venturing outside of the
barrier, if only for a short time. Nobody ever really liked the "outside world", or the rest of the
world outside of Yokohama. Everybody in the outside world was told to be incredibly dimwitted
and suffered from moral blindness. A regular child from Yokohama could easily do better than
half of the outside world's population. Chuuya was even told by Kōyō that when she visited on a
business trip or an assassination task, nobody questioned her, and most just believed others. Dazai
knew way more about everything than Chuuya, so he was quite glad to have some knowledge of
the area they'd be working with.

Dazai was taking too long to answer, Chuuya had been spacing out for a long time, so why the hell
hadn't they been pestering him? As much as Chuuya was fond of the silence, considering Dazai it's
rather alarming.

Oh. They also were staring out the window. But, unlike his, it didn't seem to be longingly, but
rather empty. As if they were just watching time go by. "Hey," Chuuya said as he nudged Dazai's
arm.

“Hmm? What does my dog require of me this time???” They monotonly asked as they continued
their emo gaze out the window. It would seem rather majestic, and Dazai was going to start longing
for the familiar peaceful scenery compared to the supposed bright colors of the other side.

“Oh shut up. I was just checking on you,” he mumbled as a slight tint of a blush crept on his
cheeks through embarrassment. It was then that Dazai quickly turned around, a bit startled by the
change in personality. “What?” he incredulously spoke out.

“I won’t ever repeat that you shitty-eyed bandage lover.” Chuuya went back to looking out of the
window, elbow against the car door with his mouth back in a slight grin.
Dazai too could feel their ears turning a flushed red. Their posture was in a straight position as to
take up less space, hands folding on their lap as they silently blanked out to the distant city.

It was rather romantic watching the sky through two different perspectives, as both watched the
same sky paint itself alive. Dazai couldn’t help but be grateful for the Lamborghini's partition
across the car. They would die of shame if the driver had heard, but looking at Chuuya’s striking
face, Dazai doesn’t think that they’d mind very much. A world without Chuuya would be very
dull, as a galaxy without its star can’t function properly.

The silence wasn’t awkward, but rather calming, as Yokohama lulled them together with its cold
embrace. As they ventured further out from the center of Yokohama, of its greed, and
hopelessness, the end was getting more and more visible.

“The barrier,” they murmured to themselves as the intricate ability was brought to view.

“What did you say?” Chuuya grumbled himself awake.

“The barrier Chuuya. It’s about time.” Dazai couldn’t help but allow the feeling of serenity to
slowly allow itself to be weighed down by the moon.

Chuuya wasn’t one to be nervous. Even so, he was aware his hands were twitching, and as the
unmistakable feeling of dread washed over him, Chuuya was fine, thank you very much. The
barrier was the color of silver, seeming to shine as beautifully as the moon did, unreadable letters
circling it in a doomed mantra.

“I can see that, thank you very much.” He snapped back, a small hint of annoyance seeping through
the great anticipation his heart felt.

“Wow!!! Dogs can see that well??? I was led to believe that their eyesight was very poor. Maybe it
increases with smaller dogs though. Who knows.” A grin appeared on their face as they snarked
back.

Chuuya’s grin was widening along with Dazai’s as their childhood curiosities were about to be
uncovered. The outside world was almost there, and there, as dimwitted as the people were, much
fun could be made.
“OH SHUT UP!!!” He barked as the car came to a smooth stop. The door was opened by a bulky
man, who quickly went to get their luggage out of the car.

Chuuya stepped outside of the door. His feelings were too much to understand as they bubbled up
in his chest. It was a few more miles until they reached their lodging for the mission, but a mere
twenty steps outwards would be the end of Yokohama. No houses or people could be seen from
either end.

“Dazai, what the hell taking you so long,” he yelled from outside the vehicle.

“My feet are asleep Chuuya, I’m delicate, what do you want me to do???” They pouted, as their
hands did over exaggerated theatrical movements.

“Can you seriously not walk???” Chuuya exasperatedly spoke back as he walked to the other end
of the car, hands in his pockets as if he were waiting for something.

“Sooooooo what are you doing???????”

“Listen, do you want me to carry you or not????” He shouted back.

“Hmph. I’m glad my dog knows basic responses and treatments for their owners,” they murmured
back as they slumped onto Chuuya’s back. His hair smelled like cherry blossoms, Dazai noted to
themselves as they retreated into their rough coat.

“You owe me for this you shitty bastard,” Chuuya told Dazai as he triumphantly grinned at his
new score.

“Yeah, Yeah, put me down now.” Dazai would never owe anything to Chuuya. Unless he lost a
game where the rules had been stated which they wouldn’t, Dazai would never willingly owe
something to him.

As Dazai motioned to the lower ranking grunt to bring their luggage up a bit closer, they offered
their hand to Chuuya, which Chuuya gratefully accepted. Both wanted to go through the barrier
themself first and then use the car. It’s an experience that can never be the same again. With bated
breaths, they took five steps forwards. Everyone in Yokohama was sanctioned off from the barrier,
as nobody in charge was completely sure if Dazai’s ability would render the barrier useless whilst
 going through it.

Five more steps.

Three.

Two.

One.

Let the games begin.

Chapter End Notes

Oh my gosh- I'm so sorry, I was studying for everything, and then my one of my
grandparents was diagnosed w/ amnesia, it was a super hectic month, and in the
process I got major writers block.

I'm already writing the next few, so hopefully that makes up for the lost time :)
 Literally just the apartment.
Chapter Summary

Just them getting situated

Chapter Notes

See the end of the chapter for notes

It felt magical. The barrier had to only be a foot thick, but the short time spent in there seemed like
an eternity. Unlike the usual headache, Dazai got from everybody’s abilities, going through the
barrier didn’t hurt at all. It was as if Dazai was surrounded by the familiar abyss of darkness.
Instead of pain, it felt more like a loss when they reappeared through the other side, the comforting
feeling now a mere memory. The barrier hadn’t been disabled.

With newfound knowledge of the barrier, Dazai and Chuuya waited for the car to pass the border
as well, and proceeded to board inside it to reach their destination. The ride had only taken them
four hours to reach the buildings of Musutafu, but Dazai was already wishing they’d closed their
eyes a bit sooner. Everything is absurd here, they thought.

The first noticeable feature is how overwhelmingly bright the city is. People here have no taste,
and just looking at the place made it very apparent. The first buildings that had come into view
minutes ago were covered in bright posters advertising people called “heroes.” Dazai had done a
little research on their side (which wasn’t easy, mind you very much) but people here had an idea
fixed in their tiny brains that those who were deemed ‘better’ in the eyes of society were ‘heroes’
who ‘saved’ the weak, and ‘villains’ who took the opposing role. Looking at the area only
solidified Dazai’s previous knowledge of how morally blind Musutafu’s society is. People in the
advertised commercials were also wearing . . .

Spandex????

How odd. People had no shame here. All this could be deducted without even seeing anyone. Were
people this carefree??? Dazai could only lick their lips as they thought of the different possibilities
to gain the upper hand. If there was this much to dissect from buildings, then Dazai could barely
imagine the information that could be taken from the people of such an arrogant city. Everybody
here just . . . had their themes and nobody cared if someone stood out from others, and people liked
that some were stronger than them. Did they appreciate needing to be saved? If Dazai was
expecting something better before, they most certainly weren’t now. Most in Musufatsu were
weak, and it was considered average at worst.
Ah. They mused. If only it wasn’t so late. No wonder Chuuya was resting his eyes in the car.
Everything hurt, and the thrill at the barrier had long since worn off. What a sickening city,
everything was so uncoordinated. Even Chuuya with his horrible taste in fashion would agree that
the color schemes and palettes were a nightmare without counting the delusional idiots that would
probably litter the streets when the sun rises.

The complex they were staying at seemed rather shady at first glance, but to others, like Dazai and
Chuuya it was comforting. The dark sky seemed to blend in with the grey building. Finally, a
building with the taste was seen, even if it was closer to villain territory.

“Chuuya” they whispered. “Get up, we’re here.” As his eyes fluttered open, he latched onto
Dazai’s arm, as if asking them to wait. “I’m ready now,” Chuuya whispered back as his hand let go
of Dazai’s skinny wrist, striding towards the dark building as he held his hand out for Dazai. He
grinned as they walked closer, grasping his hand, now walking inside together.

Chuuya was surprised. Contrary to his initial thoughts, the apartment seemed plenty sturdy and
was far cleaner than he’d expected. If these were the so-called ‘slums’ of Musufatsu, then Chuuya
wasn’t sure how people would cope in Yokohama. Nobody here even had to fight. It was a miracle
how well the city was doing. Chuuya could find himself wishing he’d spent the first years of his
life here, in a sheltered place. Though it’d be a shame not to meet Dazai so soon, he’s confident
that they’d reunite. The biggest part was the kitchen though. Why? He wasn’t too sure.

“Oi, Dazai, hurry up!” Chuuya shouted from the center of the living room. “Why???” they whined
pitifully as they popped their head out of the kitchen. “Do you want to unpack, or not a shithead,”
Chuuya asked? “Oh well. Sure then, I’m glad your brain isn’t as small as your height,” they said as
they walked in and sat down by the luggage. “Shut up you asshole!!!” Chuuya bellowed whilst
folding his outfits.

“Where are we going to put out stuff anyways? You haven’t told me your preferred room, but I
suppose, if I absolutely must, I’ll take the master bedroom.” They wore a bright innocent smiles on
their face as if they weren’t going to take the best room in the complex. Chuuya wasn’t having it.

“No, it’s okay Dazai, I think that I’ll have to suffer in that bed. Don’t worry about me, you can have
the honor of the couch.”

Both smiles disappeared. “Roshambo.” Dazai challenged. “Loser gets the bed?” Damn it. Dazai
was planning on telling Chuuya after they’d lost. “Sure.” It wasn’t hard to predict someone else’s
moves, but trying to figure out what Chuuya thinks is a mess. You can’t peer into a non-existent
brain after all.
Dazai won. It is a curse when you win at everything. They settled in on the couch a bit grudgingly.
It was quite a bit more comfortable than they’d imagined. Of course, he’d already gone off to
inspect the bed.

Hey Chuuya," Dazai called, still laying on the couch, "What should your quirk be?"

When Chuuya entered the living room, he wasn't surprised to see Dazai still on the couch, but
seeing them there allowed Chuuya to bathe in the sweet feeling of victory.

"Increase of gravity. Maybe I get a stomachache or something?" He wasn't too sure, honestly, he
hadn't thought about it too much.

"Decrease it is," Dazai said as they typed it on their computer.

"What??? Why bother asking me if you aren't going to listen in the first place?"

"Oh, but Chuuya, the idea of you having a stomach ache after you use your 'quirk' was put in. I
think we'll have to limit it to 5 objects that can 'float' though."

"That's so weak."

"We're just overpowered here, what can I say? If our quirks were the same as usual, then we'd be
crowded with attention from all over. Especially you, with your 'hero' quirk."

"Whatever." He said as stormed off towards his room.

—------------------------------

Their irritation was becoming more and more prominent by the minute. They could only glare at it
from afar whilst sitting on the couch. Dazai wasn't sure what Mori was thinking when he'd gotten
them both a huge kitchen. Dazai didn't know how to cook, it isn't a necessary skill to have when
your mentor is in charge of your nutrients, so they were hopeless with food. Of course, if they tried,
Dazai probably could master the art of food, but, why bother when other people exist? They could
only dream that Chuuya did. He probably had more experience, with being on his own for Canned
food is amazing, but Chuuya always hits them after, and Dazai can never fully stomach it. They
were going to develop scurvy sooner or later.

Filling out a sheet was boring, and unlike a report, there was no interesting way to finish. They
couldn’t write it in French or exaggerate parts to their favor. Everything was so boring. Schemes
are their thing, not cooking or sheets. They’d much rather be building relationships. Moreover,
having a good impression of their neighbors would be essential for their mission. Especially if
someone goes snooping around in their past and intentions. Dazai would rather start on the right
lane and manage their time wisely, not brainlessly sitting down. That seemed like a Chuuya thing
to do.

"Chuuuyaaaa, it's been two hours, aren't you done with whatever dogs do now?"

“Yes, I’m done cleaning now. What the hell did you bother calling me for?” Chuuya asked, clearly
annoyed by Dazai’s existence. Their desire had finally overcome them. The graph was promptly
ignored, attention fully turned to the elephant in the room. “Hey, Chuuya, do you know how to
cook? It’s an awfully big waste of space if you don’t. This kitchen is huge.” they called out.

“Why do you think I would know how to cook?!” Chuuya shouted back. Why was Dazai always
making assumptions about him? It’s bad enough partnering with them, not to mention living with
them.

“I don’t think, Chuuya, I know.” dammit.

“Stop being such a smartass. If you would think then you’d fucking know that we have absolutely
zero groceries to make food with.” Dazai was getting on his last damned nerve. Yes, he did know
how to cook, and Dazai’s assumptions are always correct, but they didn’t need to be such a snobby
brat about it.

“Well then,” Dazai jumped up from the couch, immediately throwing the laptop down. “Let’s go
meet the neighbor!”

“The neighbor? Why the hell would we meet the neighbor? We’re talking about food here.”
Chuuya asked in a confused tone.

“Well think about it. Building relationships here will be a fundamental right?” Chuuya nodded
along. If they wanted the plan to go smoothly, they’d need people to back them up. People that
 existed in Musutafu, not Yokohama. He was understanding that logic. The question was why the
hell would they meet their neighbor right now? It was 22:34. Most would be out for lunch, or
talking with friends, not sitting around at home as anti-social losers like they were.

“Let’s buy pizza or something. Let them get comfortable with us, it can be a gift from us as the
new tenants who arrived. If they get suspicious of us, it’ll be a lot more on our backs.” People
tended to get more comfortable with someone if they did something nice. Pair that with eating a
meal, and some spill on secrets they otherwise wouldn’t have, and it just seems to these people that
it came out automatically. A conditioned response.

“Y’know, most people would go places. The summer hasn’t ended and unless they’re alone, or
studying, there’s no reason to be out of the house.”

“Oh, trust me. I’m sure of it,” they said with a glint in their eye. Nobody in their right mind would
live in ‘villain territory’ & ‘vigilante territory’ if they wanted to be social and wandering about.
Unless they were simply stupid, which very well be the case, Dazai doubts it.

He sighed. “Show me the way then,” Chuuya said as he slumped against the hallway frame.

Dazai quickly grabbed their coat off the couch, resting it on their shoulders as a mischievous grin
fell into place. “Let’s go.” No more graphs for now. Anyways, they could just say it was for the
graph. After all, no information is completely useless in the hands of a genius. Chuuya simply
followed after them like a dog, much like a bodyguard. A dog, Dazai though. Yes, it quite suited
Chuuya.

Chapter End Notes

Yeah, so this might be a bit of a slow burn, but hey, what can you do when you have
burnout and a major five-page assignment to do?
 New Neighbors & Social Anxiety
Chapter Summary

They meet their new neighbor and talk a bit.

Chapter Notes

See the end of the chapter for notes

Dazai stood at the door, smirk evident that something was about to happen. On rare occasions,
Chuuya saw their facial features mimic an actual person, but when Dazai was, it meant something
utterly vile was taking place. Chuuya was the only one who could recognize such a smile, others
were too focused on their beauty. On their dark eyes, their brown hair with specs of red, their smile
that tries to fill up a room, like sugar to one’s heart. Nobody saw anything other than what Dazai
wanted them to. Except for Chuuya, perhaps he was cursed. Their true smile, the one nobody else
saw, hidden behind a lock was terrifying.

It might’ve been when Chuuya was on a mission that he saw this same smile.

He didn’t truly look happy or excited until expected to do so, the single true time he’s ever even
seen Dazai smiling was when he was standing over a dead body. They were half out of their mind
at that point, excessively shooting the body, giggling like it was a ritual, pupils wide open.

No, this smile wasn’t real, it wasn’t manic enough. Just a small smile, one waiting until it has to be
used, like a mask. Dazai then turned to him, mask on full display. If Chuuya were anyone else, he
might’ve felt more threatened. Pressured, like claws were digging into his shoulders. Dazai always
knew how to break people. But Chuuya had already been broken once, betrayed by both his brother
and a god that never let him go. If Dazai once had wings, then they were now torn off by the
winds, forced to fall into the ocean with Chuuya as they drown together..

If Chuuya was drowning then Dazai was dead, torn apart by the pressure, 1948 meters under.

Things like this always amused them to a certain extent. Anyone could do graphs, files, or
informative calls. It doesn’t matter if a graph is slightly better when done with Dazai’s help.
Everything is. No, the field is where they excel, like a moonflower taking to the night sky. They fit
to any role assigned, any person, any work, anything. Dazai is perfect, they freed themselves long
ago, no longer bound to the ground, instead taking to the sky.
Far above the clouds, in between the stars and the otherworldly sky. But right now, they were
chained to the ground, courtesy to Mori and his oblivious underlings.

Until they were ripped out of the chains, they would play any part. If Dazai were any less
intelligent, they would never want to leave. Manipulation no longer affected them, any attempts
were simply absorbed as new information.

It was thrilling, being so close to death whilst suffering the lows of living. To be so close, dipping
his feet into the void ever so often.

Acting as a human seemed to fill a void in Dazai, as much as it tore a hole into Chuuya’s chest. So
as Dazai bore his eyes into Chuuya, he nodded back, face stuck in a permanent frown, ever so
honest. So unlike them.

Mere seconds went by as something dull made a thud on the floor, shuffled feet moving closer.
One. Two. Three. It was a boy. Footsteps heavy enough to leave imprints on Dazai’s head, that
carefully marked the weight, step pattern, and pitch. Ever a machine.

He seemed surprised to see the two of them, so much so that Dazai’s smile widened, realization
leaving Chuuya in shame. They must look truly pitiful, two children standing at a doorstep, a
welcoming gift in hand. Right outside of a random person’s house in the worst neighborhood, one
could find.

“Um . . . Hello.” The boy said. He seemed to be nervous, perhaps some social anxiety. What a pity
that Chuuya was with them. This person needed more encouragement, not a hatrack to stare the
poor boy into the floor. He didn’t need some divine judgment to spill, only some helpful words.

Chuuya ought to get the memo. So, without consulting their partner, their look changed, aiming for
an innocent smile, teeth bared open, eyes sparkling with glitter. The other child was tall, though it
wasn’t surprising, most adults and teens were taller than both of them. If this is the average height,
the plan should do wonders. Two innocent children give a neighbor a friendly welcoming gift.
How fun.

He only looked down at them awkwardly, rubbing his head as he looked back at the apartment.
This person must’ve just woken up, or gotten out of bed, their hair was poofed up, and they were
wearing a t-shirt and sweatpants. Did everyone dye their hair a random color? Or is this due to their
mutation? It took time for their eyes to accustom to sudden bright colors, so all Dazai did was find
the neighborhood with the worst socio-economic position. They’d guessed right, no more fake
gingers. This way, Dazai could route them out one by one. This boy had purple hair, low in
saturation.
Though the wear isn’t the most appropriate, Chuuya is rather grateful that some people can wear
average clothes, albeit underdressed. Dazai and he had counted an astonishing 678 stores selling
Spandex, over 1,000 people wearing spandex, and less than twenty percent wearing average
clothes. The way to fit in was to stick out. This person was the lucky 20< that had average fashion
style. They probably came here to rid themselves of the crowd too, they didn’t seem totally social.

“Hi! It’s nice to meet you Mr. We’re your new tenants! We just got situated and were hoping to
introduce ourselves to such wonderful neighbors!” They said with a loud smile and a deep bow as
they waved to Chuuya.

If anything, Chuuya was shocked. Dazai was a twenty-year-old at two years old. Had he randomly
relapsed thirty years? Was this what Chuuya is going to be forced to do?

His blue eyes that were cast previously down now halfheartedly looked at the boy, a slight nod and
wave as he retreated to Dazai’s side.

His eyes looked ahead, past the boy, past the wall, somewhere around here was Yokohama. He
only needed to circle the world once to see its beautiful seas, uncontrollable, sandy beaches, the
people that were never there.

The sky would always have darkness, clouds covering the majority. But that was only the winter.
In the summer, it was beautiful.

Pink clouds dusting the horizon, fireworks lighting up his world every night. It was truly a luxury
to whoever witnessed it. But now, the sky must be dark, the ocean calm, no longer filled with
emotion.

“Nice to meet you.” The boy still stood there awkwardly, never looking them in the eyes. He was
folding in on himself, arms clutched to his chest, almost as if he was ready to curl up into a ball.

As this was happening, Dazai only patiently waited, a smile that intimidated people across his face,
teeth stretched open in a smirk.

As much as Dazai pitied a dog, Chuuya knows it’s because they are one. Dazai will always be a
dog. And so will Chuuya. The only difference between them and this boy was that Dazai and
Chuuya will never be domesticated.
They will never choose pity. No, they will fight to survive, there is no other option.

Shinso could never imagine being these people. To have all that confidence, to smile, he wants it.
But he was a child, and so were they. No, all he could do was stare at the floor, hoping for it to
stop.

School hadn’t started, and that was reason enough for him to stay inside. Why him? He gripped the
door, waiting for the other two to leave, but as soon as it was apparent that they were there to stay,
the two introduced themselves. Truly, introduced themselves.

“Hi! I’m Dazai, nice to meet you, Shinso, it’s a pleasure, ” they said, eyes darkening as they put
out their hand, soft bandages tight on rough skin. The sun was falling behind Chuuya, illuminating
their figures, red hair resembling that of a god. The bandages created a halo on Dazai, tightening
around their throat. It was a sin to be so beautiful. Chuuya moved forward, head never tilted
downwards.

His eyes flickered, was he hallucinating? Hah, he must be.

Shinso swears there was a splotch of red on Dazai’s hand, so dark it seemed crimson.

He looked again. It wasn’t there. It didn’t feel right. The gold hues were no longer seen. Both of
them were covered in red.

No? No. He needs to sleep. Shinso’s back was already pressed against his own door as he looked at
the sky, then back again. Yes, he sighed, everything was fine.

Dazai smirked. They placed the gift by the door, hands in their pockets as Chuuya stepped
forward.

“I’m Chuuya, it’s nice to meet you. He’s sorry for the abrupt timing,” he said as he held his hand
out, a calloused hand so different from the soft fabric Dazai wears. He didn’t seem very happy to be
here. Had Shinso done something wrong?

He didn’t know, perhaps they were from a different district? He hadn’t been preparing for another
culture, was it just that? No, it’s a new move, Chuuya’s probably just nervous about moving to a
 new area. Moving from a new place to another must be scary for younger children, though
Musufatsu has nice areas, so Shinso supposes they will be fine anywhere else.

Shinso anxiously stared at the outstretched hand, palms alarmingly clammy. He needed to get
ahold of himself. So, his resolve was strengthened as he proceeded to have the worst handshake
he’d ever had in his entire life. If anything, his arm turned into a noodle. Chuuya’s grip was bone-
crushing, what type of child manages their strength?

How old are they? Is it safe for them to be here? Should he warn their parents? Where were their
parents? Maybe they’re getting the furniture? Yes, that must be it. They even came with a gift. He
sighed. Shinso always has a habit of working things up. Nothing made sense. First his
hallucinations and then this firm grip. Whatever, it isn’t his problem. He probably won’t be seeing
them very soon. They’ll leave, and he’ll stay. Just how it’s always been.

A million different thoughts swarmed throughout his head. “Ugh,” he outwardly sighed as Chuuya
let his arm go. Dazai only stood there, blank eyes truly earning him the title of ‘mackerel.’ Shinso
was weak. He had low self-esteem but didn’t care. He didn’t care at all, not about anything, but
perhaps about anyone. Judging by the eyebags on their face, Dazai thinks they’ll get along fine.
Ah, he’s weak-willed as well. Softer towards younger children, likely outcasted. Just another
teenager. Oh well, people come and go, but Dazai will be the one to succeed. Dazai and Chuuya.

That was a weak-ass handshake. Nobody had ever dared to do something like this to Chuuya, but
an old man could do better than this pitiful bastard. Though Chuuya is used to looking down, he
never looks up. If he starts doing that, he’ll be kicked from heaven, a demon taking his place. If
anyone had acted as this person, they’d be dead long ago.

This person reminded them of a hungry Dog. Hungry for love and attention-starved by the world.
But he wasn’t beaten yet. He had not suffered to the full extent he should have. How weak. Giving
up so easily, such an act wasn’t even pitiful. If he hates it, do fucking something. Yet he’s staying
here, hating the world. How pathetic.

Chuuya could only stare at Shinso, eyes pressuring his very being. Ten seconds, and he was
already waiting to kick someone’s ass. He really needs some wine.

Chapter End Notes

I'm back and ready to write :D

Contrary to popular belief, this work is not being discontinued.

The word count is at 7,755 at the present date, but will be much more as time goes on.
Chapters will be at least 1,000 words min. to 6,000 words maximum. It really depends
on my mood for the day/how much work I have.

An uploading schedule is in the process, but you can expect at least a few updates here
and there.

I'm rewriting all of the chapters to reach better quality writing and a higher word
count. None of the favorite scenes will be removed unless they are which is . . . oops.
This work will be slightly more adult-ish (ptsd, blood, and gore) so just a trigger
warning. Almost none of the scenes are explicitly said, but many are insinuated.

This is due to the fact that the old version was what I wrote quite a while ago, and I've
decided to pick it back up and make better quality content. If you're still interested, I
encourage you to read on, but if you're not, I understand.

Thank you so much for all the love and support this thing has gotten, I truly appreciate
it.

Please take care of yourselves and note that events that happen in this story (past
present and future) are in no way healthy coping mechanisms.

Stay hydrated and safe, see you all soon! <3

 Forcing a neighbor to order pizza.
Chapter Summary

Pizza (will update with more words soon dw)

Chapter Notes

See the end of the chapter for notes

“Would you like to come in? I’m sure it isn’t comfortable outside.” His voice was unfaltering and
it sounded unfazed despite their events. Dazai felt as though it was a rather desperate attempt at
getting them inside. They weren’t used to trusting others so easily. Why were they supposed to be
inside? Was it really that cold out? Dazai blinked. It didn’t feel cold or windy, it felt quite warm,
and they could feel their insides boiling inside.

Dazai only stared back in response, while Chuuya started to drum with his feet, growing impatient.
A second passed before Dazai felt a gust of wind wash over all of them. It was going to rain. They
should start by getting a phone that’s connected to Musufatsu soon. Yokohama doesn’t report on
outside weather conditions, and if it was to go well, they should know their environment.

Shinso silently looked back in response, leaning toward his doorframe and the warmth of his
house. Dazai’s back started to shudder as the wind started to prick every inch of their body. How
successful was this attempt? Standing outside of Shinso’s apartment about to drown in the rain.

Their fluffy hair was already frizzy, and as cute as it might’ve looked, the strands did not need
additional damage. Dazai could barely take care of themself and never bothered to take care of
anything outside of necessary, and instead ignored everything until it became an issue. Outside was
now an issue and if it kept raining, they were sure to get sick and hinder the progress of the
mission. That couldn’t happen
.
The rain was pattering now, but Dazai doesn’t doubt that it will steady out in the next minute, the
drops slowly falling and eventually drenching them and Chuuya until they drown in a giant puddle.

“We’d love to come in.” Dazai answered calmly as they stepped forward with a childlike
demeanor that turned the world pink, their other half only stared at their special shoes which were
going to be ruined soon by the usual rain they were so familiar with. If this works, and Chuuya
means after all this is over, he will down an entire bottle on a whim and hope for a raise. Nothing in
the world could compare to this, and although nothing is meaningless, he feels the importance of
their mission slowly dwindle as his leather shoes were ruined.

“Wait up dammit. I’m following, just wait a damned second.” Chuuya said, taking one last look at
the rain. He supposed they wouldn’t be going on an exploration trip anytime soon. Chuuya was
really looking forward to exploring their new world too, and so, he started to frown. Seeing people
different from them was startling, but strangely beautiful Chuuya supposed. It was refreshing, a
taste of life so different from their own. Would he have been able to live a normal life here, he
wondered biting his lip.

The universe answered and he tasted blood in his mouth and a slight sting on his now-red lips. No.
He would always feel a pull toward an exciting life. He licked the blood off, and as he was staring
at the sun already covered with clouds, he put his hand in front of it. His eyes softened. It didn’t
hurt anymore. Chuuya was bound to this as long as he lived. Or maybe he lived for this.

Chuuya walked inside the warm room, setting his hat on the rack by Dazai’s black coat as Dazai
snickered in the distance. “Shut up.” Chuuya snarled from the door, glaring at Dazai.

“But I didn’t even say anything Chuuya! Maybe you’re just sensitive…” Chuuya was going to kill
Dazai, he swore it. The world would be so much better without the damned idiot, they always got
in trouble, put everyone at risk on simple whims and excitement, and never cared for others. He
heard a giggle from the hallway’s end and started running toward Dazai, ready to throttle him.

“Calm down. It’s not that big of a deal. If you’re planning to fight, you can do that on the street.
Not here.” Shinso started to walk toward both of them, his hands up in surrender. He is not willing
to let two teenagers mess up his entire house over a hat and some giggles.

Dazai smirked at Shinso, mocking Chuuya as their hands went up, pointing to their head.

“I know what you are,” they whispered, leaning in towards Chuuya, “a hat rack! Made only for
holding hats, I guess it makes sense considering your height is-” Chuuya started to throttle them,
Dazai’s body limp against his hold. Ah, Dazai wondered, was he finally going to die? Killed by his
dog? What a tragic ending.

“Stop!” Shinso angrily shouted, softly pushing Chuuya’s head to the wall as he quickly walked
back. Chuuya immediately let go and began glaring at Shinso, but just as he was about to yell,
Shinso interrupted. “Just stop. They’re clearly provoking you.” Dazai looks over at Chuuya and
sticks his tongue out in a childish fashion while Shinso crossed his arms looking at the two.

Shinso began to sigh and uncross his arms, massaging his temples with an exasperated expression.
Just what was he going to do with such neighbors? He bets they’re the type to always make a fuss;
like right now, and who knows? Maybe they’ll get into some shady things and bring Shinso into
them. Well, call Shinso out. He had enough to deal with already, and parenting two children were
not something on his schedule.

Chuuya frowned at Shinso, putting his hands to his side after elbowing Dazai in the ribs. “Ow.
That hurt” Dazai pouted, tiredly walking toward Shinso’s table and slumping against the wall.

“Shut up. You know what you did, you moron.” He walked toward his shoes, arranging both his
and Dazai’s as a way of relaxing before he angered himself and Shinso again. Dazai only sniffed
and exaggeratedly waved his hands in the air, “Dogs will be dogs I suppose.” Chuuya clenched his
fist, and while he knew what they were doing, he couldn’t help but want to punch the everlasting
shit out of Dazai. What can Chuuya say? They were just that good at their job, now if only they put
the energy towards something useful.

“Alright. Now that we’re inside, let’s try to know each other based off of rational words and not
our anger.” Shinso walked to the table’s end opposite Dazai, calmly sitting down and staring at
Chuuya until he did the same. Chuuya feels a twitch in his eyebrow and arm before he grabbed
onto his arm tightly. He wouldn’t be the one to fuck up their goal. That was what Dazai did. Not
reliable Chuuya. And so, he responded in a tone almost as equally calm while the other two
watched.

“That’s a great idea, isn’t it Dazai? Let’s talk without fighting. Now,” Dazai closed his eyes and
mimicked a dog while Chuuya seethed with anger, kicking them under the table, creating a soft
thump. “Shinso, how are you?”
Chuuya didn’t care. He wanted to get out, right now. He wanted to grab Dazai by the collar and ask
them why they were being such a fucking dick. He wanted to argue until his throat bled, or until it
stopped raining.

“I’m okay, thank you for asking.” He replied sarcastically with a bitter smile, “You know, I
actually had a peaceful day without any fighting before this.”

“And I was sleeping before this guy,” They pointed toward Chuuya angrily, pressing their other
palm on the table, “decided to attack me like a madman.”

“A madman!?” Chuuya was quite hurt. Madmen didn’t have a wonderful fashion sense like
Chuuya did. They didn’t know how to properly style clothes he thought indignantly.

“Yes, a madman. Or do you have hearing issues too? I guess that gives you three things you lack,
hearing,” Chuuya’s anger started to boil, his mouth opening wide to start yelling again, “height”
Shinso’s eyes started to widen, “a hat.” Dazai smirked as Shinso and Chuuya were left shocked for
a moment.

“I’m.” Chuuya started as Dazai cupped his ear with one hand, the other behind their back as if
crippling himself would force Chuuya to bring mercy upon them.

“What was that? Sorry, I couldn’t hear you from up here.” Dazai stood up, looking tauntingly at
Chuuya.

“I’m going to kill you.” Dazai smiled wide again, blissfully happy as Chuuya chased them around
the table. Shinso looked as though he was half ready to start fighting them both himself, and he put
his arm in between the two of them, effectively tripping Chuuya as Dazai calmly jumped over.

He almost landed on his face but luckily he could catch himself with a roll until he hit the legs of
Dazai. “Fuck you.”

“I know you’d love to Chuuya, but alas, my heart belongs to another.” Chuuya immediately sat up,
staring at Dazai confused. Dazai remained unflinching to Chuuya’s roll into their long legs, instead
dramatically putting their hands on their chest and swooning.

“Really?” Chuuya wasn’t aware of this. He’d never have thought that Dazai could ever be with,
well, anyone. Dazai wasn’t very lovable, were they? Silence ensued as Shinso shockingly looked at
them, his upper body leaning toward the two.

“I’m afraid so. Their name is dinner.” Shinso groaned painfully, hands holding his head up from
collapsing. Had he become a stranger in his own home?

“I really hate you sometimes, you know that?” He grumbled and walked back towards Shinso who
already started searching for dinner, leaning over his shoulder to suggest new items.

“I know. What would we be if not infused with hate my dear Chuuya?” Dazai pondered. What
would they be, truly? Would they be better or worse? They would be so much better he concluded,
sliding into his acclaimed place by the wall.

Really, Shinso could see this from a mile away, but to think that it would happen so clearly. His
guests expected him to bring food to them after almost wrecking his entire house and fighting over
and over again. Did they really have no manners taught to them at all?

“Pizza?” Chuuya looked over at Dazai and an eyebrow twitched at the thought of appeasing them.
 “Hmmm….” They put their hand on their chin and closed their eyes as if in deep thought.
Suddenly, their stomach growled as if choosing for them.

“I suppose pizza will do for today’s dinner. Now, if I may choose what kind, I would say-” Chuuya
cut them off, putting his hand over their mouth. “We don’t care. It’s enough that we’re being fed.”
Dazai licked their hand and Chuuya pulled away disgusted. The lengths they would go to.

“What my partner means to say, is thank you,” Dazai chirped, pulling Chuuya down to the table.
“We will be in your debt. Here,” the rain was nothing more than a patter on the roof, “to pay you
for your troubles. Our guardian knows how troubling we can be so they left us a card while we are
here. ” A black card was now in front of Shinso, and although it did make sense, he couldn’t help
but feel unease, hesitantly pushing the card back. Did they not carry cash? Shinso frowned, it’s
strange to not carry any cash, and bills are exchangeable, they’re far more convenient too. Were
they visiting, he wondered, and as if Chuuya had heard him, he uncomfortably shifted.

“I’m not a store, I don’t carry around a card scanner, and I already paid for it. You’re a bit late if
you want to apologize.” Dazai smiled and shrugged, putting the card back into their pocket.

“Would you prefer cash then? It is rather convenient, isn’t it? Here, a twenty-dollar bill for your
troubles.” Shinso frowned as he took the money, if Dazai already had cash, then why would he
bring the card out? He wondered, and Chuuya thought the same. It was a risky game, pin numbers
could be recognized, and nobody besides close friends would do such a thing. Realizing this,
Chuuya irritably hit Dazai on the head.

“Owww. That hurt.” At that, Chuuya only glared down, used to hitting Dazai and dealing with their
tantrums after. They knew what they did, and they absolutely deserved it for risking everything
based on whims and the worst manipulation tactics known to man for entertainment. If Chuuya
had half a brain more, then he certainly would take over Dazai’s place, he would exceed
everyone’s expectations and stick to the rules like the perfect dog he is. Nothing would be risked
for pleasure.

Maybe Dazai.

Chapter End Notes

Sorry about all of this! My writing style has improved a bit, but I got massive burnout,
and depression, a family member died, I have a little cousin now, got covid twice, I
finished writing part of a 70,000-word assignment, and I'm trying to get into my
favorite school. Hope I can continue to write about this though :D
 Questions.
Chapter Notes

See the end of the chapter for notes

So. Serious chapter, huh? Should I continue this, or start another project? This will all eventually
be finished, so you don't have to worry about it being completely abandoned; however, I don't
know if I want to put of so many other projects simply to continue this. I currently am doing
personal work along with editing all of my friend's works, and still trying to publish on my main
account :D

Would you all prefer if I continued this now, or if I started another work? And, should I upload
shorter chapters more often, or longer chapters with more space in between? I hope you all are
doing well, be sure to stay hydrated and get at least 6 hours of sleep! :D

Thank you for everything; I can't wait to finish this all :)

Chapter End Notes

5/14 : Thank you, everyone! I've decided to continue this story and take it all into
account for what my uploading schedule will be :D

Please drop by the archive and comment to let the author know if you enjoyed their work!