10 : The Inevitable Day

Another month passed without much affair.

Chuuya liked to think that Dazai had recovered just fine from the memories he'd recovered. It was easier to look at Dazai and see a happy man. He did seem happy. He smiled - he didn't give them as easily as Chuuya did, but that just made the rarer moments even more special. Dazai still laughed and made stupid jokes and was just the same as always, brighter even. That's what Chuuya wanted to believe.

But he couldn't. He'd walked in on Dazai staring blankly at a plain wall one too many times. Three times now in the past month. It was enough for Chuuya to know that something wasn't right. Of course it wasn't. Dazai had lived through thirty six hours of torture, it'd be more worrying if there wasn't some kind of problem after that. So, Dazai was struggling. That wasn't the hard part. The hard part was that Chuuya had no idea what to do about it.

Dazai was eating well though, which Chuuya was grateful for. He still skipped breakfast sometimes but at least he wasn't as bony as before. He was starting to pad out just a little - probably because of all the crab Chuuya kept feeding him. Chuuya was starting to run out of ideas for new crab based meals.

After two months of experimenting with dishes Chuuya had started to pick up on more of Dazai's favourite foods. He'd also started to test which vegetables he could sneak into meals without Dazai noticing. Lamb had turned out to be a surprise favourite food. Spinach was an absolute no. Salmon had been tolerable, and apparently if Chuuya ever fed Dazai anchovies again the man would put caterpillars in all of Chuuya's socks.

This evening Chuuya found himself throwing together a quick Fettuccine alfredo, because it was ten o'clock at night and he was tired. Despite his own exhaustion he had more common sense than to try and let Dazai cook dinner, so he'd settled on making them both a simple enough dish.

"Chuuuya, can't you cook any faster? I'm hungry!"

It wasn't hard to ignore the whining - he'd had enough practise in that by now. Chuuya instead focusing on bringing the pasta water to a boil. Once he'd done that he turned to Dazai, who was unsurprisingly sat at the table, leaning his head in his arms. They'd both had a long day.

"Dazai. Get your head off my table."

Dazai groaned in protest at that but eventually lifted his head as requested, instead shifting and leaning back so he was slumped in his chair. It tilted dangerously backwards and Chuuya caught it with magic just as it was about to fall, instead manipulating a little gravity to stick the legs of the chair to the floor, stopping Dazai from tipping himself backwards again.

Apparently that didn't please Dazai in the slightest. "Chuuuuuya, I'm bored, you're boring. Let my chair go!"

"No." Chuuya turned back to the stove without another word, eyebrows furrowing in frustration as he realised the pasta would take another five minutes to cook. Impatient and not wanting to wait much longer he cut down the cooking time of the pasta, heating the water far above natural temperatures. As soon as it was ready he quickly started to drain it. He was starving. If Dazai kept bugging him before he could eat then he was probably going to snap.

Unfortunately Dazai did not know when to stop. "Come ooon I'm hungry, do-"

Silence. Chuuya sighed in relief. Teleporting Dazai off to the library was perhaps not his kindest move, but Chuuya had had enough. He just wanted food, a nice glass of wine and to go the fuck to bed. But no, instead he'd ended up with a Dazai that had apparently perfected the art of calling his name in the most irritating way humanly possible.

"Chuuuya, that was mean!"

"What the fu-" Chuuya span around, holding a spatula up in defence as Dazai spoke from behind him. Which was supposed to be impossible because he'd teleported Dazai off to the library not ten seconds ago. Chuuya glared at the wall. Or more specifically at the door in the wall, which absolutely hadn't been there a second ago and was definitely his stupid house taking Dazai's side.

"For Gods' sake Kouyou, that's not fair!" He yelled out to the ceiling, knowing that he sounded like a petulant child but entirely too hungry to care. Dazai walked up beside him, staring down at the bowl of cheese and clotted cream and pasta. He nodded in apparent acceptance of the dish, before looking at Chuuya.

"Is the house called Kouyou, then? I didn't know it had a name."

Chuuya frowned at that before sighing, shaking his head. "It doesn't have a name, not really. Don't worry about it." It wasn't worth the effort of trying to explain that right now, he just wanted to eat. Praise the Gods Dazai didn't push the subject, allowing Chuuya to serve dinner without further interruption.

In keeping with the laws of nature the dinner that had taken Chuuya twenty minutes to prepare and cook was devoured in less than ten. Chuuya sighed as he set his now empty glass of wine down on the table, finally rid of the hunger that had plagued him. With a hum of soft content he stood, placing his empty dish in the sink before turning to Dazai.

"Right, I'm going the fuck to bed, see you tomorrow."

Dazai smiled at him. It was one of those rare, pure smiles that made Chuuya's whole world light up. Just for a second.

"Night."

Another month went and came and Chuuya slowly started to forget about Dazai's.. problem. There was nothing in their day to day to remind him about it - Dazai seemed fine, genuinely fine. His eyes grew less cold by the day and Chuuya never caught him staring off at nothing again after those three times.

So after much deliberation, Chuuya begun to let Dazai go outside.

It had taken some convincing on Dazai's part. Chuuya had actually been the one to suggest it in the first place but then he'd started worrying, second guessing himself. But Dazai had sat him down and they'd talked about it and eventually Chuuya had decided that Dazai needed time to himself outside of Chuuya's home.

They'd only gone out together, before then. Chuuya was scared that Mori would pop up and steal Dazai away. Another, smaller part of his mind retained the ever-present worry that this was all just an act and Dazai would leave the moment he was given the chance. Chuuya wished deeply that he could grasp that part of his brain and kill it. After everything they'd seen, everything they'd found out together of course Dazai wasn't going to go back to Mori.

The first time Chuuya had let Dazai go out on his own he'd monitored him the entire day. He'd done that the second time too, sitting in a room on his own and casting a far too complicated spell that let him watch Dazai's every move. Dazai had.. Walked, mostly. Around Yokohama, from the port to the fish markets to a variety of clothing stores. There had been one instance where a man had shown up - Chuuya remembered him. He was Hirotsu, the man who's spine Chuuya had intended to crush back in the mall changing rooms. That had been months ago, now.

The interaction between Hirotsu and Dazai had been surprisingly uneventful, but Chuuya had been ready to teleport over the second it went south. They'd exchanged a few words, a few threats, but in the end Dazai had patted Hirotsu on the shoulder and walked away. The man had let Dazai go.

The third time Dazai had said he wanted to go for a walk, Chuuya had vowed to himself that he wouldn't spy on him. Instead he gave Dazai a piece of amber, carefully crafted into a ball. He'd told Dazai to squeeze it if he was ever in any danger, if Mori ever showed up.

It had been three weeks since that day. Dazai had never squeezed it. That didn't help ease Chuuya's worry; it just made him ever alert, so he could be ready at a moment's notice the inevitable day that Dazai squeezed the amber. The day that Dazai needed him.

"Chuuya, I'm home~!"

Chuuya looked up from his selection of flasks as Dazai called out to him from the doorway. He was smiling and Chuuya returned it, eyeing the shopping bag Dazai held with a mild curiosity. The house had started directing Dazai whenever he returned from his excursions, sending him to wherever Chuuya didn't have a problem with it - it was nice to know that Dazai was back.

Nice to know that he could let his guard down. That he no longer had to be ready to drop everything at a moment's notice.

"Hey. Why didn't you tell me you wanted to come back? I could have saved you the walk through the forest."

Dazai shrugged. He walked over to the armchair in the corner of the room, stared at it for a few moments before promptly melting into it, shopping bag dropped to the floor. "The walk was good. The forest is nice, now I know my way here."

Chuuya raised an eyebrow at that, not believing it. "Seriously? My forest, 'nice'? Are we talking about the same forest?"

With a roll of his eyes Dazai reached out, picked up one of the flasks Chuuya had been working with. Chuuya watched as Dazai swished the contents around, seemingly fascinated by the shimmering purple liquid. "I know I know, your forest is meant to be all scary and stuff to stop people finding our house. But now it's warm and pretty."

'Our house'

"Huh." Chuuya wasn't quite sure what to say to that so instead of speaking he turned back to his flasks. He snatched back the one Dazai had taken and mixed a blue powder into it. "I guess you're not an intruder anymore so the forest's changed for you." he mused. He hadn't expected such a reaction from his forest, but he supposed it made sense. He mulled it over in his head as he picked up a little jar of green powder. He went to carefully mix some into the flask but Dazai leaned over to see what he was doing and ended up bumping into Chuuya's arm.

Chuuya swore loudly and colourfully as over half of the jar of powder fell into the flask. He quickly grabbed Dazai's hand and teleported them both to the library. They landed on the sofa and Dazai was quick to shuffle about to rest his head in Chuuya's lap. Chuuya rolled his eyes at that but didn't complain, magicking some powder marks off of his cloak before shifting to make himself comfortable. This was a regular position for them, now.

"What happened with the powdery stuff?"

"Added way too much. Very dangerous. That room doesn't exist anymore."

The house had wiped out the room just after the explosion. That powder would have exploded with almost half the force of an atomic bomb and Chuuya wasn't about to take any chances.

They were quiet for a few minutes before Chuuya reached into nothing and pulled out a baguette that he'd previously kept in the fridge, premade and wrapped in store packaging. Dazai had bought it home for him as a gift - it was spicy chicken flavoured. Chuuya was still quite certain that Dazai had stolen it seeing as he didn't actually have any money, but hey, it saved him from having to make himself lunch.

"So." Chuuya spoke between bites, reluctantly admitting that the baguette was alright. Not brilliant, but decent. "How was your walk? See anything nice?"

"I mugged someone." Chuuya paused mid-bite but then just shrugged. Now he knew where Dazai got the money to buy a baguette, at least. Dazai went on to clarify "But it was Hiroshi so it's alright. I think he quite wanted to shoot me, though"

That made Chuuya's protective instincts flare but he pointedly ignored them because Dazai was here so it was fine. Hirotsu didn't have to die. "Yeah? How much was he carrying?"

"Sixteen thousand yen. I do have several bank accounts of my own but I'd rather not remind Mori that I exist. I'm sure he's got someone monitoring them."

Chuuya nodded at that, continuing to eat his baguette. It was spicier than he'd expected, but a nice kind of spicy. Dazai whinged as a piece of lettuce fell down from the baguette onto his face, muttering about how the vegetables were coming for him and sitting up. He drew his knees up to his chest and watched Chuuya eat, which wasn't off putting or creepy in the slightest.

Dazai wasn't filling the void with chatter and Chuuya knew that that meant he was thinking carefully about saying something in particular. As expected Dazai spoke again after a few minutes, just as Chuuya was finishing up his baguette. "So there's a party going on tonight and I think we should go. Apparently there's magic drugs."

Chuuya raised an eyebrow at that, trying not to dwell on the fact that Dazai was inviting him to a party. "Magic drugs? There's no such thing."

"Exactly!" Dazai's eyes gleamed. Chuuya had to wonder what was getting him so excited. "They don't exist, so we should go and see what they actually are. A whole lot of disappointment I won't be partaking in, most likely. Or maybe they're actually magic drugs."

"Cool." Chuuya paused a moment to let Dazai think he'd won, before smiling. "So what's the reason you actually want to go? You know, besides the magic drugs."

The look Dazai gave him for that one was a brilliant mix of surprise and heartfelt distaste. Ah, Dazai really didn't like being bested, especially not in conversation. "No fair. You're not meant to be the perceptive one, that's my job!"

Chuuya let loose a soft laugh at that one, lounging back against the arm of the sofa. "Oh really? Fascinating. So tell me 'oh perceptive one', why do you want to go to this party?"

Quiet for a moment as Dazai stared at him, eyes narrowed in thoughtful consideration. Clearly he was making a decision - an important one, from the looks of it. Chuuya gave him the time to think, pulling a wine glass out of the air and taking a sip as he waited. It didn't take too long before Dazai spoke up, the tone of voice suggesting that he'd really rather not be saying anything at all.

"I've heard an old.. Friend might be there, I need to see if it's true." A pause, then "Chuuya. You have a drinking problem."

Now Chuuya certainly hadn't been expecting that. Dazai certainly knew how to change the topic effectively. "I absolutely do not have a drinking problem. I can magic away the effects of the alcohol, its fine. Besides, I'm almost six centuries old, it takes a lot to get me drunk."

"Woah, Chuuya's ooold. How come you look so.. Y'know." Dazai was blushing and Chuuya was so, so tempted to laugh at the absurdity of it all, but he didn't want to scare Dazai away. Not now, not when he'd already spent months reminding himself that he had to take things slowly when it came to Dazai. It was important to let Dazai make the first move in.. whatever was to come. Whatever this was - would be.

So instead Chuuya pretended not to notice the pretty patches of red on Dazai's cheeks. He dutifully started to explain why he still looked so handsome, because he was entirely convinced that that was what Dazai had been about to call him.

"A Mage's body stops aging when they accumulate a certain amount of power. It varies depending on the Mage and what craft they're specialising in, I suppose. Mine stopped.. Ah, I suppose I was about twenty? It's hard to be sure, takes a few years to know when you've stopped. But I was well on my way to becoming a proper Shaman then, so around twenty makes good sense."

Dazai nodded thoughtfully, before he did that little thing where his nose scrunched up and he looked away because he thought the question he wanted to ask was stupid. After a few seconds though Dazai looked back at him, eyes oddly determined. "When did you start training as a Mage, then?"

"Oh." Chuuya was so surprised that it left him as a noise, a soft breath of shock. Of all the things in the world that Dazai could ask about, Chuuya had never expected his childhood to ever come up. The younger years were so long ago to most Mages that no one ever really discussed it.

Chuuya forced a smile, ignoring the more painful memories Dazai's question had dragged up inside him. He'd had centuries to learn how to ignore them. Besides, he had more than enough happy memories to drown them out with.

"People don't really know that Mages exist, now. But there was a time when people did know. They feared what they didn't understand, but most people were too scared to try and stand up to anyone who knew magic. So some towns -smaller villages, mostly- offered sacrifices."

Chuuya smiled to himself, indulging in the fonder memories for a moment. He still remembered his own village. A tiny little thing, no more than fifty residents and at least thirty of those had been farmers. "To the right of my home village was a forest. Deep within it a family of Mages lived. They didn't bother anyone but the villagers still feared them, so one day they sacrificed a child to the family. Chosen entirely randomly - the eight year old son of the village doctor."

"You." Dazai breathed out the word, seemingly entranced by the story. Chuuya nodded, smile growing softer. He didn't feel bitter or any kind of resentment towards his parents, his village. They'd been scared. They'd done what they'd felt was necessary to protect themselves, and Chuuya found that.. Noble, in a strange kind of way.

"Yes, me. I was given to the family. They were kind. Raised me the rest of the way, from boy to young man. They treated me well. They said it was alright if I didn't take an interest in magic but I was fascinated by it. What child wouldn't be, really?

"Mage families don't tend to stay together all that long. The children go off around thirteen or fourteen and they don't ever tend to go back. Those you train with become your new family. I was sad when I left, but it wasn't too hard. I'd already left one family, afterall. So when I was thirteen I went all the way to the City of the Mother with my new Sister. It was one of a handful of Mage only cities, where most children would go to start their training."

Dazai hummed in thought, before piping up with a question. "If I were to become your apprentice, would I have to go there?"

Chuuya wasn't sure why that question of all things was the one that hit him like a punch to the gut. He forced a smile but was painfully sure that Dazai could see through it, all the way to the pain. No matter. He was fine, he was.. Fine, the question had just been a surprise. That was all.

"The City was destroyed my fourth year there so no, you will not be going." Chuuya stood quickly, desperate to change the topic now it was starting to drift towards more unpleasant memories. He couldn't think of anything else to talk about though, not now. So instead he turned back to Dazai, managing what he hoped looked like an apologetic smile. It might have been more a grimace, really.

"I've got to go decide what I'll wear to this party. Bye."

Chuuya teleported from the room, sitting heavily on the bed as he arrived in the safety of his own bedroom. He tried not to feel too bad - Dazai had no idea what he'd stumbled upon, what he'd made Chuuya think about. It was an accident and tonight they'd go to the party and everything would be alright again.

He clenched his hands to fists to stop his fingers trembling, forcing his eyes shut and clearing his mind. Once he was at a satisfactory level of calm Chuuya took a slow, deep breath before standing, turning to his wardrobe. He supposed he might as well choose a proper outfit for Dazai's party. A cloak simply wouldn't do.

"When you said party I was picturing something a little more.. Refined."

Dazai watched with an amused smile as Chuuya's lip curled in visible disgust at the scene he found himself in. The party they found themselves at was refined in exactly no ways. They were underground. That was handy - the coolness of the stale air was the only thing that made the heat of moving bodies bearable. The music was almost deafening. All around them people were drinking and dancing and injecting substances that really weren't healthy for the human body.

He was no stranger to scenes like this but he did tend to avoid them. This time, though.. If he really was here like Hirotsu had suggested, it was worth putting up with the stench of sweat and vomit.

"Come on Chuuya, it'll just be for an hour at most. That friend of mine is supposed to be here anytime over the next half hour, we can go then."

Chuuya huffed his distaste but said nothing else, plucking awkwardly at the sleeves of his coat in his discomfort. Dazai did feel a little bad about that one - Chuuya was overdressed for a place like this, all fancy shoes and a shirt and a bolo tie. He'd even ditched the cloak - Dazai considered that a miracle of its own. The cloak had been replaced by a coat, a long black thing with a handsome red lining. Meanwhile Dazai could easily pass as some kind of office worker who'd come here to escape the monotony of life with his scruffy hair, trousers and a plain shirt. He'd undone the top three buttons. He hadn't missed the way Chuuya's eyes had drifted to his neck every so often, as though he could see beneath the bandages.

Similarly, Dazai found himself very much wanting to dwell on how attractive Chuuya looked with black leather gloves on. Unfortunately he had other priorities for tonight. Later, though. He'd have all the time in the world to dwell once they were back home.

Dazai watched as Chuuya sighed very loudly and dramatically before he pulled a whole bottle of red from thin air. He started to drink straight from the bottle with no hesitation, which meant it was cheap wine. Dazai smiled his amusement but then turned back to scanning the crowd. He needed to focus.

Practised eyes scanned for his target, flicking from face to face, taking in the details but never lingering. His instincts tugged and Dazai followed, eyes sliding across the room to a back door as it closed - the movement he'd caught in his peripheral vision. Someone had slipped in. Dazai examined the faces near the door, whole body stiffening as he locked eyes with the one person he'd come to a shit hole like this to find.

Dazai started walking towards Ango, the world around him put on standby. It wasn't important. Only one thing here was important, and that was-

"Dazai!"

Chuuya's shout of warning came too late. The casual hand on his shoulder mixed with the familiar firm of cold metal against his head was enough to bring Dazai to a halt. He paused in his march towards Ango, who was staring at him, eyes wide in his surprise. Ango hadn't set this up, then. Good.

Dazai knew that the moment he looked away Ango would have vanished into the crowd. So he nodded to the man once. He wasn't quite sure what deep, meaningful message he was supposed to be transferring with that gesture but Ango seemed to get it. He returned it with a tilt of his chin. Dazai allowed himself a moment's smile. He wondered if Ango would see it. Probably, with those glasses of his.

Without further ado Dazai twisted his neck to look at the one man in the Port Mafia who would dare to so blatantly hold a gun to his head.

"Hello, Mori. Been a while."

Mori shouldn't have been able to hear him, not over the sounds around them. But then again nobody seemed to have noticed that there was a gun in the room, either. Most likely the doing of magic, then.

"My, you're even starting to talk like Nakahara, what a pity. I must say Dazai, I was expecting him to have discarded you by now. When dear Hirotsu told me otherwise I was so very pleased. Let's go outside, shall we? Nakahara will follow."

The gun against his head didn't really leave him with much of a choice. Dazai nodded and without another word Mori's grip tightened from casual to a threat on his shoulder. The man weaved his way through the crowd, steered Dazai towards the back exit. As expected Ango was long gone. He'd disappeared into the room and had probably declared whatever operation he'd been here for a bust.

Dazai allowed himself to be pushed forwards without hesitation, ignoring the elbows and feet and shoulders they bumped into on their way towards the exit. The crowd was a pulsating, living being around them but Dazai paid it no mind, weaving through the bodies in the direction Mori guided him. So many people around them, all of them unimportant. There was only one other person in this room that he cared about and that person would follow.

Chuuya would always follow. Out through the door, and to whatever came next.

Boy howdy it is a diddly darn miracle this chapter was finished in time. Still not 100 percent happy with it, but I doubt any amount of editing over the next few days will change that, so decided to leave it as is !

The plot is ramping back up, buckle your seatbelts kiddies because we are in for a ride next chapter.