Chapter Title: Arthur Hugh Clough, "Say Not the Struggle Nought Availeth" (l. 12)

Kenji had turned up the night before, bearing a letter from Mori that Fukuzawa had thought it best to have hand-delivered. Chuuya hadn't been able to think of anything else since. A few moments here and there, and that longer stretch where Dazai had distracted him with sex. That had helped, had brought him back to himself, had made him feel connected again, but he kept just circling right back to that envelope. Whatever was in it was going to hurt. It was already razors in his skin just to think about it. Either Mori would have been scathing and mean, which would hurt, or he wouldn't have, which would be agonising. A small sound fell from him, and he tried his best to just burrow into Dazai and hide.

Dazai moved with him, tucking Chuuya's head under his chin and rubbing lightly at his back. "You don't have to read it." It wasn't the first time he'd said that in the last twelve hours.

For a half-second Chuuya reached for that, part of him wanting to grab that permission and hold it and let it shield him from what he knew was coming. That wasn't possible, though, and he knew it. "No. I need to." His voice was muffled to his own ears, tamped down by the familiar heat of Dazai's body. "I won't be able to be okay until I know."

Dazai's turn to make a sound, this one not a little distress. "What if it's some sort of manipulation?" he asked, and it wasn't the first time for that, either. He'd insisted on touching the letter before Chuuya did, to make sure he nullified any residual...anything that Mori could have done to it. And he'd tested it for whatever substances might be on it, too. But that had been a precaution only; Dazai had mused that Mori's poisons had always been in his words.

Of course he was right.

"Then you'll be here to show me, won't you?" Chuuya ventured, still uncertain though he knew he shouldn't be.

"Of course I will," Dazai sighed, but kissed the top of Chuuya's head anyway. "I won't read it unless you want me to-" He sighed again and amended "-until after you have, anyway - but I'm not leaving you alone for this."

"Then I should get it over with."

Dazai went oddly quiet, just stroking Chuuya's hair for a moment. "You don't do well with avoiding things, no. It makes your hair fluffier." Chuuya tsked softly and bit him, but was content to be petted for a little longer. "Do it for the follicles," Dazai urged earnestly, and earned himself another bite.

"Fine," Chuuya grumbled, and moved to get up, because the sooner this shit was over with, the sooner he would get to nestle at Dazai again.

"...Want me to get you some booze for your coffee?" Dazai offered, though it was approximately ass o'clock in the morning and the sun wasn't even up yet. It couldn't count as day-drinking if they hadn't slept yet, right?

Chuuya nodded. "I really do. The Irish whiskey, please."

Dazai padded off to get the coffee and the booze, and Chuuya could smell it before he got all the way back. Thank fuck. "You want me right here, or…" Dazai gestured to the armchair, a silent admission that he wouldn't be able to stop himself from reading the letter if he was close enough.

"Stay here. Just...face me." It was a good compromise. Dazai read fast, and Chuuya figured he wasn't going to mind Dazai knowing whatever it was. Just not first.

"I could close my eyes."

"Dazai? Don't." Chuuya's voice was steadier than it felt like it should be. Huh. "Just face me."

Finally, Dazai just nodded and sat facing him. Once Chuuya had the single sheet of paper out of the envelope - good, thick bond, because Mori had always been Dramatic like that - Dazai reached for his free hand. Chuuya gripped his fingers tightly as he read.

To Chuuya,

I instructed that this letter be given to you in the event that you were responsible for my death. Should this not be the case, I ask that you not read further.

He swallowed hard for that opening, because of course - of course - Mori had suspected that Chuuya might kill him.

You will have, all things going well, succeeded me as the leader of the Port Mafia. It is my belief that this is the best possible outcome if our organisation is to flourish. I have taken some feeble measures to bring Dazai back into the fold; should he react as I hope he will, you will have all that you need to protect our city.

I fancy that I know you quite well by now, Chuuya, and am confident in my belief that you would not have killed me except out of a desire to protect...a person, a place, an ideal. These things are natural; the young lion devours the old. Is it strange of me to say that, of all of the people I could imagine killing me, you were the favourite?

Chuuya choked a little bit on that last part, because he'd wondered. There had been a moment, a split second when he thought Mori's expression had shifted, a knowing and approval in his eyes. He'd thought about that a lot since that night, and now he had the answer. He disliked the metaphor, because that wasn't the reason, and he knew Mori had used it just to fuck with him. Even in death, the fucker never changed.

I have made you my heir for a reason. Protect this city; no one else could do so better than I. Keep him close if you can; I trust you will know what to do if you cannot.

His teeth ground for that last, the fucking sadistic way Mori had of combining the pleasant with the painful, so you never really knew how to feel...it was newish for him, but he knew in his gut that this was how it was for almost everyone else. Mori always refusing rest, always denying certainty, and it made him determined not to do the same.

The codes at the bottom of this document unlock the backups for my personal data archives, as I'm sure your methods in disposing of me were...characteristically flashy. Use them carefully.

Be well.

Mori Ougai

He choked on a mingled sound of rage and pain as he read the end, horrified to find tears in his eyes, the words blurring with them. He wanted...he didn't know what he wanted, but there was a deep pressure inside him, in his chest, and he wasn't sure if it was a scream or a sob, and how fucking dare Mori do this to him.

Suddenly the letter was gone, pulled from numb fingers as Dazai wrapped his other arm around Chuuya, tucking his head in under his chin again. Chuuya curled in against him, wanting Dazai around him, wanting to hear his breath and feel his warmth and lose himself in the steady sound of his heartbeat. He wrapped his arms around Dazai and clung, the tears eventually falling, then subsiding. He'd done the right thing. He knew he had, and he still missed Mori, as weird as that remained. No regrets...but still.

When he was relatively steady again, Chuuya said softly, "I'm all right."

Dazai held steady, and all he said in answer was, "Okay."

Chuuya leaned back to look up at him, and there was an edge of distress in his expression that softened Chuuya. "Do you want to read it?" Dazai swallowed and nodded, and Chuuya understood the inability to find a voice for this. "It's all right," he said, petting Dazai's chest. "There's nothing of mine that you can't know."

Dazai reached up to touch Chuuya's cheek. "I want to know what you need right now."

"You,' Chuuya said simply. "I've got that. Everything else...will settle."

It only took a moment for Dazai to read, and Chuuya saw the little flinch when he got to the end, the first time. By the time Dazai reached that point the second time, though, it was gone. It was just another of Mori's little cruelties, he suspected, sinking like a stone into the fathomless hole he'd left in the centre of Dazai. "I really never was all the way a person to him, was I?" Dazai's voice was hollow, somehow, the ghost of an outrage no one could recall. "Not all the way."

"You were...a tool. I'm sorry."

"Why?" Dazai demanded, and the sound of him tore at Chuuya's heart.

"Because Mori was a monster. I didn't see it, and I should have. I should have done something." It was far too little and entirely too late, and Chuuya knew it, but selfishly he wanted Dazai to know that he felt things about what he hadn't been able to do.

Dazai shook his head furiously. "I was good at what he wanted. I tried. I…" His voice sharpened. "I didn't want you to see. I didn't want it to be real and if you saw it, it was."

It was too much suddenly, and Chuuya couldn't take being so far away when Dazai looked and sounded like that. He moved, crawling up onto Dazai's lap so he could wrap arms around him, pull him close and hold on. "You were the best," he whispered fiercely. "The problem was him, not you."

"I'm sorry it fell on your shoulders to kill him." Dazai's arms wound tightly around him. "I know it hurt you and I'm sorry."

That was wrong, that was so wrong, and Chuuya knew it. "It was always going to be me," he argued, shaking his head. "He wanted it that way. And honestly, I'm glad. I know what happened, I know why, and Mori's death can just be like this. I don't have to be uncertain and get all...vengeance-y. You know? It hurt, but this is the smallest hurt, with the biggest mitigation."

"You're right," Dazai sighed, clearly not happy with having to say it. "Stop being so wise, damn it, you're only a month older than me."

"But so much better," Chuuya teased, grinning, but he held just a little tighter.

"The best." Dazai kissed his hair, his forehead. "The best."

For a little while, Chuuya just held on, eyes closed, letting himself have the wordless comfort of Dazai in his senses, his anchor. So much had changed, with just a few paragraphs on a piece of paper. Even everything Chuuya thought he knew about what had happened that night had changed. "I thought I saw it," he ventured, "right at the end. In his eyes. I told myself that I imagined it, but…"

"Approval?" Dazai asked. "You did see it, I'm sure of it."

Chuuya took a long breath. "Yeah. I'm sure, now. I didn't give him time to manifest Elise, but...but I don't think he even tried."

"Oh, he'd have tried. He wouldn't have given anyone a victory."

Fuck, Chuuya needed that to be true. "Yeah?"

"I'm sure of it," Dazai said, the note of con entirely absent from his voice. "He wouldn't have entrusted you with his legacy if you didn't take it from his cold dead hands. So to speak." He grinned a bit. "Believe me, we're two peas in a pod with that. Not that I have a legacy. I have a footacy at the most. A toeacy."

Chuuya couldn't help chuckling for that, for all he knew it would just encourage Dazai's bad jokes. "You're so fucking weird. Why are you so weird?"

Earnestly, Dazai replied, "As a foot, I am a leg-end in my own time."

"Knock it off, asshat," Chuuya laughed, and smacked him lightly.

"What? I like it when you smile," Dazai protested, and kissed Chuuya before he could reply. Chuuya kissed him back, tugging affectionately at Dazai's hair, and for a moment it all seemed unreal all over again. Just for a moment, until Dazai nipped at him. "Got a problem with it, boss?"

"Not at all," Chuuya purred, and kissed him again. And again. All of the kisses. Dazai's fingers trailed slowly up and down his spine, sending sweet little shivers through Chuuya's body. He was incongruously happy, given the circumstances.

"You've accepted it, then."

Blinking slowly, it sank into Chuuya that that had been the first time someone had called him boss without it making him twitch even on the inside. "...Oh."

Grinning madly, Dazai rubbed his nose against Chuuya's in a ridiculously fuzzy kind of way. "Mm," he said gently, "enjoy your lifetime appointment to cat-herd. Sorry, but I'm going to make sure it lasts a long time."

Chuuya grinned back and nipped at Dazai's tempting lower lip. "I guess I can live with that."