Summary: "And what's a fine lady doing by herself at a bar?" Dazai commented as he slid onto the stool. Fem!Chuuya x Port Mafia!Dazai, drabble. Warning-Rated T, heavily implied sexual content.

The bar's lights were yellow, casting a sort of sepia glow over everything inside.

"And what's a fine lady doing by herself at a bar?" Dazai commented as he slid onto the stool. The light drew out the speck of molten gold in his his visible brown eye.

"Minding her own business, unlike the man next to her," the woman shot back without hesitation. She was rather petite, with blood red hair and ocean blue eyes. She was dressed up in a black skirt and white button up shirt.

Dazai hummed in acknowledgement. So far, this has been better than most of his conversations with women he met at bars. He responded with a wink, "But hasn't nosiness prevented many crimes? Like that of beautiful woman such as yourself being alone?"

The woman gave a snort of laughter. "You're a smooth talker," she acknowledged. "But I'm not interested right now." Her smile was sharp, a warning.

Dazai smiled amicably. "Perfectly fine. Perhaps we will meet another night?"

"Perhaps."

XXX

It was about a month later when he saw her again. It was at a different bar, one a bit more seedy than the last one. The room was more darkly lit, filled with more unsavory characters.

Dazai had ordered a glass of whiskey. He clinked the bobbing ice against the sides with a finger. He smiled slightly as she sat down next to him. "I realize I never caught your name."

"Chuuya," she informed. She was dressed more casually this time, black slacks and a grey hoodie.

"Dazai," he returned. He had on his regular outfit: a black suit and loose tie, and the more eyeraising addition of bandages.

Chuuya picked up a menu, glancing it over. "Do you know what types of wine are good here?"

"Hmm. The locally made Rosé?" Dazai suggested idly.

"Sweet or bitter?" Chuuya questioned. She loved sweeter wines, but had a large distaste for the more bitter ones.

"It's sweet."

Chuuya smiled. "Then I'll try it."

As promised, she got a glass of the Rosé. And as he had said, it was sweet, and rather good.

"So, it is still a perhaps?" Dazai questioned with a slight smirk.

"How about a maybe?" Chuuya replied. Her tone was teasing.

Dazai sighed and went back to drinking his whiskey before the ice melted completely. He liked how strong cold whiskey tasted like fire trailing down his throat. He didn't like it diluted with water from melted ice. "Is that better or worse?" He asked her in sullen despair.

Chuuya held a hand in front of her mouth and bit her lip, trying to hold back her amusement. Eventually she gave up, quiet laughter escaping from her.

Dazai liked her voice and how she looked. He liked how fiesty she was, ready to return his comments with a fiery counter. He liked the look in her ocean blue eyes. In fact, he wanted to see her in a more...private setting.

He would endeavor to make it a yes before she had to go-and then they would leave together.

XXX

Dazai was successful.

They rented a hotel room for the night. Dazai insisted on paying. With his salary-that of a Port Mafia executive-it wasn't anything.

The bed was clean and the furniture wasn't dusty, but that was all there was to be said for the room.

Dazai took off his blazer, tie, and shirt, sitting on the bed. He put them on the beside table.

She entered the room after him, letting down her red hair. She took off her jacket, draping it at over the bedpost at the foot of the bed.

About two hours later found her sitting on top of him. Her shirt was unbuttoned partially, hanging loosely around her shoulders. Chuuya had one hand splayed out on his cold chest. Her lipstick was smeared-she used a finger tip to brush away some from the corner of her mouth. Her red hair trailed down to her back.

They were both panting heavily. They had mutually decided to take a break to breathe.

Dazai's lips were tainted red from her lipstick. He ran his tongue around, wetting his lips. He still had the aftertaste of that Rosé in his mouth. He sighed, staring at the gun barrel aimed at his head. "I had the feeling there was more. Going to kill me?" His voice was clinically detached, apathetic.

Chuuya shifted her arms. One of her long red locks fell over her shoulders and tickled his skin. The gun moved down. She pointed it at his chest, right above his heart. If she shot it now, death was certain. "I plan to do what I was hired to."

Dazai nodded to show he understood. But he paused, blinking slowly at her. "Could you not?" He proposed, a slight whine in his voice. His shoulders slumped.

Chuuya cocked her head slightly. She had done her research on her target. Rumors about Osamu Dazai were a dime a dozen, the facts a bit harder to pin down. "But don't you want to die? You've tried hanging, drowning, poisoning, and so many other ways," she pointed out. "You've made life into a game of your own-and your death, always ran away from you."

"Except I don't like pain," Dazai complained in annoyance. He narrowed his eyes slightly, possessing a more melancholy tone as he continued, "And I wanted it to be on my terms."

"On your own terms? If you wanted that you should have already done it. Everyone isn't patient enough to wait around for you," Chuuya scoffed. Her eyes held no sympathy, no pity. He was her target, and a long time suicidal target at that.

Dazai sighed, casting his gaze up to the ceiling. "It's such a pity...when you get what you wanted, and don't want it anymore." He gave a bitter smile, locking eyes with his killer.

.

.

.

Bang.

A/N

Dazai and Chuuya make a lot of bad life decisions in this one.

This was way too awkward to write and I regret this idea, but I'm mostly happy with how it turned out.

I think the art I used is by SayuMari on deviantart? Go check them out.

-Silver