First one, yay I got it out on time! This is Chuuya missing Dazai after he leaves the mafia. Also it may seem confusing at some points. For best experience read only the normal bits and then read all of it~ A few spoilers but if you don't plan to read the manga I wouldn't worry about it too much.

Chuuya barely even cared that the bastard had blown up his car, even though he most likely should have. It had been a really expensive car but he hadn't even paid for it- it had been stolen. He could easily steal another.

Though none of the others had been cars had had Dazai in them, when they made fast escapes and talked and hated each other and-

The drink in his hand was on the other hand was something he had paid for. It was also expensive, since Chuuya's taste in alcohol was only the best. He took a long sip, sighing softly as he paced the wall, his ability in full effect.

If he was here he would touch me now, my shoulder or arm or anywhere some skin was exposed, send me crashing to the ground where'd I would shout at him and he'd just smirk and-

That stupid bastard-

How dare he leave the mafia!

How dare he leave me.

The ability to manipulate gravity. It was a good enough ability, not useless like a lot of other ones. It had served it's purpose, had helped him. He didn't need anybody else. With his ability and his talent in martial arts? He would be fine without his so called 'partner.'

It was true he would be fine he would survive, but it wasn't right and there was always going to be a place beside him where that stupid bastard should have been, could have been-

He didn't need Dazai.

But-

He didn't need his partner.

I-

He didn't need the other half of Double Black, of Soukoku.

But he wanted him.

Concentration slipping Chuuya fell off the wall, landing hard onto the ground and splashing his beverage all over himself. What a waste. Standing up with a sigh Chuuya left his hat on the ground, placing his glass down beside him. He grabbed the bottle instead, heading towards the bathroom as he took a swing.

Dazai had done that, taken swings from the bottle. Back then Chuuya would glare, wrinkling his nose at the scene. Now he did the same, tears burning the corner of his eyes because-

Getting into the bathroom he placed the bottle down, stripping off his clothes with trembling hands, turning on the water and getting inside as warm water washed over it. Chuuya turned it higher until the water burned.

-because Dazai was gone. That stupid Od- something had died and Dazai had left because of course he had cared about that stupid idiot more then he had cared about Chuuya, probably didn't even think about him when he left. But that's right, they hated each other, didn't they?

Chuuya didn't hate Dazai though, he couldn't.

As hot water splashed down his back and to the ground Chuuya scrubbed his body raw until it was pink and painful, no trace of stickiness left. Now his entire body hurt, ached from the scrubbing and the heat, but his chest hurt way more.

For no reason.

Except it hurt right over his heart so the reason was kind of obvious, not that Chuuya would ever admit it. This was all Dazai's fault, the bandage loving freak. And of course Chuuya didn't hate the bastard not that he would ever admit that either, because they were partners.

Once you spent that much time with someone you can't really hate them anymore, can you?

Chuuya got out of the shower dressing up in new clothes. Grabbing his bottle he walked up the wall and onto the roof where he went back to pacing.

What was he doing?

That morning Chuuya had received a call. A call that his partner had gone missing and he had to look for him. Chuuya and others had looked all day, but halfway through Chuuya had received the message his car had been blown up. Then he figured it out.

Dazai wasn't missing he had left the mafia, had left him, and if he didn't want to be found he wouldn't be.

And Chuuya guessed he had lied, maybe you can still hate someone after being their partner because Dazai clearly hated him.

He was celebrating. Celebrating that the waste of bandages wouldn't be around to poke fun at him anymore. Sneaking into his room at night and putting up tripwires, calling him short and making fun of the way he dressed, and everything else that made Chuuya hate him.

-and everything else that made Chuuya not hate him-

He was happy he was gone, that was it. Happy he would never ever see him again. Happy he was gone, forever and forever.

Everything would be better now. His missions would go more smoothly, people would listen to him instead of Dazai, he would get stronger, stronger then Dazai had ever been before! Like he had already decided, he didn't need Dazai.

He only wanted him. There was a hole in his chest now, and it hurt. A hole where Dazai use to be. They weren't friends, they were something stronger after all. They were partners.

Chuuya paced a few more times, before leaving the walls and the ceilings, climbing back down to the floor. Pouring himself a glass from his bottle like a normal person, he raised it to his lips.

But he didn't drink it. He smashed it. That would be hard to clean up. He chugged the rest of the bottle instead, letting it run down his chin and his neck before he smashed that as well. Falling onto his bed, he closed his eyes tightly, wanting the images to go away.

The wine had tasted good.

Dazai. Dazai. Why had he left?

His bed was comfy as well, welcoming and the world was dark and calm under his eyelids. He reached down blindly with one hand before pulling the blanket over himself, letting the warmth wash over him.

The warmth smothered him instead though. The stickiness from the wine bothered him but he wasn't going to take another shower, not when he still hurt from the last one. The clothes rubbing against his skin hurt, every movement hurt.

A thought suddenly occurred to him, and his eyes snapped opened. He was an idiot! Like Dazai wouldn't be back. One day. Someday. Sitting up, Chuuya clenched his teeth tightly at the thought of that bastard returning.

He clenched his teeth tightly as tears fell down his face, onto his clothes, mixing with the stickiness. How could he face Dazai again? After this?

He'd face him with a fist to the face. A kick to the chest. A knife to the throat, sliding. He'd get his revenge, he'd kill that sick idiot.

And if that really happened afterwards he might as well use Corruption, right? Without Dazai around to stop him he could take out the whole Mafia. So what if it would kill him.

Only what he would deserve for leaving the Mafia. Excitement started to move through him at the thought of getting his revenge. He'd show him every insults, every punch, every hit that Dazai had ever showed Chuuya, times one hundred.

Grinning Chuuya slumped back down, closing his eyes lightly. He was more relaxed now, and more then a little drunk.

Tears fell onto the pillow under him. They stained the white with wetness, salty and damp. More fell, joining the ones already there, dancing together to create a picture of sadness.

It wasn't too surprising though, that he was drunk. He had drank some rather strong stuff after all. A celebration. Chuuya couldn't wait to rub that in Dazai's face when they met again, rub it in that he had liked him leaving.

Dazai would most likely say something about the car being blown up, so Chuuya would have to think up a good come back for that.

He would most likely fail though, or not remember when the time came. It was all bravo and bravery until he actually was in front of him after all, those brown eyes staring at Chuuya as if right down to his soul, as though all of Chuuya's secrets had been laid down before him ready for him to look through them, picking and choosing and dissecting as he liked.

All in good time though. Chuuya rolled onto his side. Darkness was making his head and limbs feel heavy and he went slightly limp on top of his bed. Searching for Dazai all day had made him tired, more so then he had really expected. Yet another thing to get revenge for.

He would see Dazai again.

He would see Dazai again.

And he would get his revenge.

Even though, in truth, he would want to ask him a question.

The thought made him fall into the deep dark arms of sleep.

You left me, Dazai. Why? Why did you leave me? Was I not a good enough partner? Why was that person more important to you? Did you even think about me when you left?

Do you really hate me that much?