Dazai somehow managed to hoist Chuuya onto his back and drag him back to his apartment. He could remember carrying him the same way back when they worked together. Chuuya would get drunk at some bar, or pass out from Corruption, and Dazai would give him a piggy-back ride back to headquarters or the apartment they shared. It had been so natural then. But it felt strange now. Strange in the way a room feels off without furniture in it: no longer home. The weight was off, too. Chuuya was heavier. Dazai supposed that was a good thing; at least the idiot was eating. And he was older; weren't people supposed to gain weight as they aged? He'd joke about Chuuya getting fat when he woke up.

He unlocked the door with difficulty and dumped Chuuya onto his bed. He could have dumped him on the couch, but he figured that might be just a little too rude. Dazai usually slept on the couch, anyway, and he didn't know when Chuuya would wake up.

Chuuya was still soaking wet. Dazai managed to wrestle his unconscious form out of his damp clothes and into some dry ones. With a grin, Dazai considered how angry Chuuya would get when he found himself in clothes too big for him. Everything about this situation would anger him, actually, but it was the little things he'd sweat.

Dazai changed his own clothes after laying Chuuya down on the sheets. The hole in his shoulder stung. He looked at it in the bathroom mirror; it was a clean shot, straight through. Made things easier. He patched it up himself, indulging in a few winces and curses - he really hated pain. That messy affair done, he peeled the wet bandages from his skin and rewrapped himself, hiding the patchwork of scars from view before tugging a shirt on over his bandaged torso. He could probably use a hot shower, but he didn't take one. He could probably use a cup of tea to warm up, too, but he didn't get one of those, either. Instead he opened a bottle of sake, pulled a chair up beside the bed, and watched Chuuya as he drank.

If he was right, and he always was, it was only a matter of time before Mori called. He already had a sickening feeling that he knew what this was about. Chuuya being ordered to use Corruption, however subtly, was a completely new phenomenon, as far as Dazai knew. When they worked together, it was always one of them that made the final call. He guessed that was how things were supposed to look now: Chuuya hadn't been ordered to hulk-out directly, after all, but the implication was still the same.

Chuuya hadn't used Corruption at all since Dazai had left - with the exception of the fight with the Guild and the Shibusawa incident, of course. But that had been different. They'd been back in business, on stage for one night only, the big reunion. Dazai smiled ruefully.

Contrary to what Chuuya thought, Dazai took no pleasure at all in seeing Chuuya torn apart like he was under Corruption. If he was being completely honest with himself, it scared him. That much raw power did not belong in an uncontrollable state.

His phone rang. Dazai considered the device for a moment before answering. The number wasn't in his contacts list, but he knew who it was. "Mori," he acknowledged, voice cold.

"Dazai," Mori greeted. There was a smile in his voice, but no warmth. "I called to thank you for saving my executive."

"No, you called to make sure I got your message."

"Why, whatever do you mean?"

Dazai's eyes were fixed on Chuuya. The web of veins tracing his neck was slowly fading, but he was still as stone. "You knew one of his subordinates would call me as soon as Chuuya decided to use his Corrupted form. You knew I'd come. And my answer is still no."

Mori clicked his tongue. "Dazai, you were grief-stricken when Oda passed, so your temporary forgetfulness is understandable. Nevertheless, you did forget one important thing when you left the Port Mafia: Oda was not the only person here you care for."

Anger flared in Dazai's chest. Calling Oda's murder a "passing" was like calling a shark a fish – both could swim, but only one could bite. Dazai kept his voice even. "I know you brought that other group into Yokohama to give Chuuya a good excuse to use Corruption. You're using him as a bargaining chip, as if he's not your most powerful knight on the board." He chuckled. "You're like a little girl, so obsessed with the toy she lost she sees no value in her wall of other dolls."

"Taking a jab at my dear Elise is just playing dirty." There was humor in Mori's voice.

"Then let me make myself perfectly clear." Dazai leaned forward, elbows resting on his knees. "You took Oda from me. But you will not take Chuuya. I'd burn the Port Mafia to the ground before I let that happen."

"I know you would," Mori answered with perfect honesty. "That's why I'm offering you your old position back. Rejoin the Port Mafia, and I'll never make Chuuya use that awful ability again."

Dazai laughed outright. He wondered when Mori would come out and say it. "Like I said, my answer is no. My promises to the dead are too strong. So allow me to enlighten you as to how this will all play out." He paused for dramatic effect. "I'm declawing the cat. I'm going to convince Chuuya to leave the Port Mafia and join the Armed Detective Agency. The next time you see him, he'll be on the other side."

Mori chuckled. "I'm disappointed. You were the sharpest scalpel in my collection, but the Agency has dulled you, Dazai. Or maybe it was the sheer panic of realizing you were about to lose another friend. Neither you nor Chuuya belong in the Armed Detective Agency. You've had a fun trip, I'm sure, but it's time to come home. You and I both know that Chuuya is far too loyal to abandon his home, even for you."

"I wouldn't count on it." He hung up and tossed the phone behind him, where it landed on a pile of wet clothes.

He could pull it off, he knew he could. Yeah, Chuuya was a loyal dog who'd jump to attention at the barest nod from his master, but that wasn't what he wanted. Dazai knew him better than that. And the Detective Agency could offer him something that the Port Mafia never could. He just had to play his cards right.

Chuuya awoke in stages. The first thing he became aware of was the buzz of pain reverberating through his body. He ached from his toes to the top of his head.

The next thing was the smell. It didn't smell like his apartment. It didn't smell like the infirmary in the Port Mafia, either. But it did smell familiar, like an itch in his memory he couldn't quite reach. He couldn't pick out any distinct scents, but there was something achingly familiar, not unpleasant, just on the edge of his memory.

The next thing he noticed was the texture of the fabrics touching his skin. Rougher than the sheets in his apartment, or even on the beds in the infirmary. The clothes he was in didn't fit him, either. They were too big.

Had he died? Was this what Hell was like: vaguely familiar scents and scratchy sheets?

He pried his eyes open. Damn, even his eyelids hurt. The ceiling above him was off-white, almost a dirty beige hue. He stared at it for several long moments, putting off having to turn his neck to see more of the room.

"Good morning, Sleeping Beauty!" an all too familiar voice cried.

Chuuya groaned. Hell. This was definitely Hell.

Dazai's face appeared above his own, peering down at him from his large, curious brown eyes. Chuuya squinted his shut. So that's what the smell was.

"Your sheets are scratchy." So was Chuuya's voice, apparently. He couldn't seem to think straight. Forming a coherent thought was like pulling something through syrup.

Dazai chuckled. His voice was light, airy, like everything was perfectly fine. "Good to see you, too, partner."

"We're not partners," Chuuya reminded him, the bite in his voice lost in the slur. He drew in a deep breath and let it out. "How long was I…?"

"Over ten minutes. I think that's a new record."

Ten minutes. Ten whole minutes of Arahabaki. He swallowed drily. "How many did I-"

"None of your own," Dazai assured him. "And none of the Agency's."

The exchange was practiced. Every time Chuuya woke from using Corruption, he started by asking the same questions. How long was I under? How many people did I kill? It felt so useless to Dazai; wasn't that the point of using Corruption? But he went through the motions then, being perfectly honest. Now, as he read through the script etched into his memory, all he felt was relief. One more minute, and the story could have gone very differently. It had been so long since he recited this particular script, anyway.

Chuuya let his thoughts pull themselves together as he surfaced from sleep completely. He took several minutes to piece together what must have happened. He'd let the monster out, and Dazai had stopped him. Which meant that either the Armed Detective Agency was called to the scene of a Gifted on a rampage, or one of his own subordinates had called Dazai directly.

He shouldn't be alive. He shouldn't be here, in Dazai's apartment, in Dazai's clothes, in Dazai's bed. He shouldn't be… so many things.

He took a deep breath and braced his hands on the mattress, pushing up. Pain shot up his arms, sharp as knives, followed by a dull ache. He sat up anyway, trying to salvage at least a little bit of dignity. His eyes found Dazai, perched on a chair, watching him with a smile on his face. "What are you grinning at?"

"It's just been so long since I've watched you sleep," he teased. "You look so peaceful before you wake up; like you couldn't hurt a fly."

"I may be in pain, but I could still lay you out, jackass."

Dazai merely laughed. He took up a pitcher of water on the bedside table and poured a glass, pushing it into his former partner's hand. "How much do you remember?" Chuuya could never fully remember what happened when he let Arahabaki out, and the longer the monster was in control, the less he remembered.

Chuuya downed the glass clumsily. Water dripped down the side of his mouth and trickled down his neck. He wiped it away and winced. The skin on his hands and neck both felt bruised and raw. Dazai refilled the glass and he emptied it again before answering. His throat was less raw now; the words didn't sound so much like they were dragged over gravel. "I remember letting him out, then being dumped in the sea with a few flashes in between."

"I have to say, it was really stupid letting it off the leash like that without a safety net." It was said lightly, but the implication was clear.

Chuuya grit his teeth. The age-old feeling of betrayal cut through him again. He wanted to scream, My 'safety net' was gone!

But evidently that wasn't exactly true, was it? His damn safety net was right there, a chair away.

Something pushed against the restraints in Chuuya's mind. Anger, sadness, hurt. He swung his legs off the side of the bed and started to stand. He needed to get away, but his body had other plans. As his legs took the full weight of his body, they buckled.

Dazai was on him in an instant, catching his wrist deftly and pushing him back on the bed. "Isn't one stupid move enough for today? Honestly, you're so reckless. Give your body time to recover."

"I don't want to hear about recklessness from the bastard who's obsessed with suicide!" Chuuya snapped. Fury backed his words now.

"Yeah, I thought I was the suicidal one, too." Dazai's eyes bored into Chuuya's, penetrating. "If I'd known you wanted to kill yourself bad enough to let Arahabaki loose on one of Mori's whims, I'd have gladly joined the party."

Damn him. Chuuya lashed out, knocking Dazai's hand away from him. "You think that was some suicide attempt!?"

"Yes, I do."

The words were calm, collected, certain. A shock went through Chuuya, sharp enough to make him gasp. Maybe Dazai was right. Maybe he did want to die. He grit his teeth and argued. "Why the hell would I want to die?"

Dazai shrugged. "You tell me, Chuuya. Why would you like to die?"

Chuuya snapped. His fist cracked across Dazai's jaw, sending him flying into his closet door. Dazai gasped and gripped his shoulder. Blood seeped through his shirt and between his fingers.

With a shock, Chuuya realized he was hurt. Hell, he'd probably been hurt when he dismantled Corruption. He tamped down his guilt mercilessly. So Dazai was in pain – good!

For the Tainted Sorrow crackled through the air. He used it to push himself up, help his legs support his weight as he crossed the room and grabbed Dazai's collar in his bruised hand, hoisting him up. "Let's get one thing straight, asshole!" he growled through clenched teeth. "The only suicidal person here is you!"

"Looked in the mirror lately?" Dazai retorted. His eyes were like dark pits, cold and bottomless, and Chuuya struggled not to fall into them. "Akutagawa said you've practically leapt at every opportunity to use your Corrupted form. You've been reckless."

"Because they're my orders!"

"Right." Dazai lengthened the word, tone dripping with sarcasm. "You've always been an obedient dog. Your master says roll over, and you just do."

Chuuya slammed his fist into Dazai's stomach. Pain shot up his own arm at the contact, but he tamped it down. "Just because I'm not a traitorous bastard doesn't mean-"

"-you're a loyal dog? Chuuya, they're killing you. Can't you see that?"

He could. Of course he could. But it being pointed out by Dazai left a bitter taste in his mouth. He couldn't be close to him anymore. He shoved away from the man and backed up, putting distance between them. "Where are my clothes?"

Dazai shrugged like he didn't know. Chuuya swore and started hunting for them. A hand grabbed him from behind and his ability fizzled out. His knees buckled again, and Dazai again pushed him back onto the bed. "You're in no condition to go anywhere for the time being," he pointed out.

"If you'd quit touching me I would be!"

"Why didn't you call me?"

The tone was cool, expectant. Chuuya wished he would quit jumping back and forth between serious and joking; he was getting a headache. He glanced up at him and stopped, stunned the expression he found in Dazai's eyes.

He was more than serious; he was genuine. Chuuya had seen Dazai ask genuine questions before, but they were usually accompanied by that cold, heartless stare that gave him the creeps. The one that promised he'd do something awful if he didn't get the answer he wanted. The one he used when he was called to fill in for Koyo's men. This was almost that same stare, but there something different in the way Dazai was looking at him. Less like a mouse in a trap and more like a human being. No, more than a human being. Like something valuable, something he didn't want to lose.

Weird.

Then the anger came back. Could Dazai really not know why he wouldn't want to call him? Seriously?

Alright. If Dazai wanted to do this, he might as well take some heat for his actions. Chuuya let out a bitter laugh. "You really don't know, do you?"

"Why would I ask a question I already knew the answer to?"

"Well, let's see. Why the hell wouldn't I want to call a traitor?"

Dazai shrugged like the word carried no weight at all. "Because you're suicidal?"

"Because I didn't think you'd come!" Chuuya snapped. "Why would you!? We're not partners anymore! You don't owe me a damn thing. I didn't want to deal with your sorry ass laughing over my grave for the rest of eternity at how stupid I was to believe you'd actually go out of your damn way to pull me out of the fire!"

It was the honest, ugly truth, and the blow landed. Dazai was too good at hiding his emotions to let the sting show outright, but something shifted in his eyes. Silence stretched between them. It felt like a boundary, a wall.

Chuuya was right; Dazai didn't know. He didn't know that leaving the Port Mafia had left such a hole in his former partner. Didn't know he cared enough to let it fester.

Until now.

Dazai was the first to cross the divide. "But I did come, didn't I?"

"Why?" Chuuya snarled. "You didn't come just to save my life. What are you after?"

"Maybe I just didn't want you to precede me into the afterlife." He paused. "Or maybe I didn't want you to die. The world would be a lot less entertaining without you in it."

Chuuya was having none of it. "I haven't been in your world for over four years, bastard! You made damn sure of that!"

"I'm sorry." The words shocked Chuuya into silence again, and Dazai realized suddenly that he meant every word. "When I left the Port Mafia, I didn't think you'd care."

The rational part of him, the part that knew Dazai was a liar and a cheat and a traitor and a snake, recoiled at that. The bastard wasn't sorry. He'd never been sorry for anything he'd done his whole life: a serpent cared not what branches it broke on the way to its meal. But the stupid, irrational, soft part of him knew Dazai better than that. He knew Dazai didn't lie when the truth was more powerful. And he didn't lie to make himself look worse.

The words came without him realizing it, spilling from him like blood from a wound. "But you didn't just leave the Port Mafia. You left us!You left Akutagawa and Gin. You left Koyo. You left Hirostu. You left me." He knew he should stop, knew he should shut up, knew the words would slide off Dazai like water because the man didn't care. But the words kept coming. "You know, I thought you were dead at first. Because I didn't think there was any way you'd leave without telling me. Without asking me to go with you. We did everything together, took on every fight together. We were partners!"

"We were rivals," Dazai reminded him.

"No, we weren't. That's just what everyone thought because you're such a goddamn idiot! No, we were partners and we were friends. And you threw that away like it was nothing!"

Dazai stared at him like he'd never quite seen the man before. Shit, he thought. He's not acting. And it hurt. It hurt like the wound in his shoulder. His chest ached with it. A deep part of Dazai, the part that missed Oda with his every waking moment, groaned under the weight of Chuuya's words. He'd been an idiot, clearly.

The question came out quietly. "If I had asked you to go with me, would you have?"

"Yes." There was no hesitation.

The rational part registered that this was how he'd get Chuuya out, how he'd save him. Dazai leaned forward, eyes intense. "You're right; I should have asked you before, and I didn't." He paused. "But I'm asking now. Leave."

Chuuya stared back, reaction caught somewhere between a bitter laugh and a snarl. "You've got to be shitting me!"

"I'm not. I'm serious as a heart attack. Leave the Port Mafia and join the Agency."

Chuuya's eyes narrowed. "Is this why you saved me? To recruit me to your band of freaks!?"

"No," Dazai said, perfectly honestly. "I saved you because I don't want you to die. At least not before I do. And that's why I'm willing to put up with you working in the Agency, too. What do you say?"

Chuuya did snarl now, feral as a cornered animal. "No."

"Why not? Chuuya, Mori is killing you! I spoke with him yesterday while you were unconscious! This is all to-"

"-to get you to come back! Yeah, I know! It's pretty obvious. And if you're so damn concerned about my well-being, why don't you?"

"Because I made a promise to Odasaku to be on the side of good, and I keep my promises to the dead. Chuuya, I swear to you on Oda's grave that if you join the Agency, Mori won't have any control over your life ever again."

"I don't give a damn about Mori's control, you bastard! I'm worried about the people I'd be leaving behind!"

Dazai raised a brow. "What people?"

"The ones you left, you suicidal idiot! The ones I took care of after you left! Like Akutagawa and-"

"What's going on between you and him, anyway? Are you dating or something?"

"What!?"

"He seemed pretty worried about you, and it was under his order that I was called. He's the one who told me this has happened three times already and he's barely kept you from using Arahabaki before now. Akutagawa isn't the type to fret."

"Akutagawa took your abandonment harder than anyone. I just did what you should have done and kept him from going off the rails by treating him like a goddamn human being!"

"You didn't answer my question. Are you sleeping with him?"

"Of course not, you pervert!Why do you care?"

"I'm just trying to figure out what's keeping you at the Port Mafia if the Boss is trying to kill you."

No, that wasn't it. That wasn't the whole reason, at least. Chuuya knew him better than that. He changed the subject. "I can't leave. I will not turn my back on all of them."

"I always knew that streak of loyalty would get you killed. Why be loyal to people who aren't loyal to you?"

"They are loyal. They called you, didn't they? Which I'm going to kill them for when I get out of this deathtrap!"

"You don't have to abandon them, Chuuya. If they're really loyal to you, they'll want what's best for you. You can still meet them for drinks or whatever. There's even a neutral place you could do it. And I hate to break it to you, but they're not really your responsibility."

"Yes, they are."

"No, they're not." Dazai let out a deep breath. "Look, ever since the Sheep took you in, you've thought that you have to take care of people for them to like you. God knows you took care of me when you shouldn't have. It's just who you are; you don't want to see the people you care about get hurt. You're also loyal to a fault; have I mentioned that? So maybe you should do something for yourself. Test to see if they're really your friends or they simply depend on you. And in the meantime, the Agency could give you everything you want."

"Yeah? What do I want?"

Dazai ticked off the list on his fingers. "Friends and family. Freedom. And knowledge of Arahabaki."

Chuuya stiffened. "You're bluffing."

"You of all people should know that I never lie in these sorts of negotiations. You know Ranpo? He could easily deduce whatever you want about Arahabaki. And maybe – just maybe – you could control it if you joined the Agency."

"You're out of your tree!"

"You really think so? Our President's ability is called 'All Men are Created Equal.' Its field of range applies only to Agency members, but it helps those in the Agency get better control of their abilities. It's the reason Atsushi can turn into a tiger at will, and the reason Kunikida can activate his ability long-distance. The list goes on. Granted, those sound relatively small, but you're so powerful… there's a possibility that you could control Corruption."

"And here I thought you were going to hollowly promise I'd never have to use it again."

"Is that a no?"

"This feels like joining the Mafia did. Be a good boy, climb up the ranks, and we'll tell you all about your past."

"The Agency isn't like that," Dazai promised. "Hell, I can call Ranpo up right now and have him tell you about Arahabaki without you having to join; he probably will. He likes you."

Chuuya thought about it for the barest moment. "Call him."

Dazai pulled out his phone and obediently dialed Ranpo's number, putting it on speaker. The detective answered almost at once. "Dazai! And how's our favorite Port Mafia Executive getting along? Awake yet?"

"Yeah, he's here, Ranpo. Listen, are you in the Agency?"

"Of course. They're all looking at me so intently. If this is what it takes to get a little appreciation-"

"Tell me about Arahabaki," Chuuya asked, unable to wait.

There was a moment of silence. "Arahabaki is the god of destruction that allows you to go crazy, right? What do you want to know?"

"Don't tell him!" a deep voice snapped in the background.

Ranpo's response was quick and sarcastic."Why not, Kunikida? What's he going to do with the information?"

"He might kill Dazai!" That was Atsushi, ever the paranoid child.

"Yeah, I might!" Chuuya yelled back, unable to resist.

"Be my guest!" Kunikida replied. "I'm worried about what he'll do to the other people in the city."

"Believe me, four-eyes, Dazai's the only head I want!"

"You're all getting along so well already!" Ranpo clapped his hands from the other end of the line. "Since we're all in such a giving mood, I promise to tell you whatever I can deduce about your little parasite, Mr. Fancy Hat."

Chuuya shot Dazai a look. Another idiot with the nicknames?

Dazai merely shrugged as if to say, What can you do? You do have a fancy hat.

"How do I know you can do it?"

"You're in no position to be negotiating, terrorist!" Kunikida snapped. "And Dazai! You promised to keep the Agency out of this!"

"No, I promised not to harbor him in the Agency office." Dazai's response was slow, like he was talking to a child. His face then broke into a grin, causing Chuuya to roll his eyes. God help the poor fools who have to deal with that shit-eating grin. "Besides, aren't you forgetting that this isn't your decision? You still have to go through the President."

Chuuya blinked. Damn, how had he forgotten about Fukuzawa?

"I'm not forgetting about anything, Dazai!" Kunikida bit back. "The last time we took in Mafia trash was as a favor to the President's friend! I don't see any high-ups asking for favors this time!"

"Kunikida, calm down." The eccentric detective's sing-song tone hadn't hardened. Chuuya still remembered getting stuck inside that god-awful book world with him; it took him days to get out of that place when that weirdo figured everything out in hours. "While we're all aware of the moral ineptitude of the Port Mafia, this particular member has a pretty strong moral compass. You haven't noticed before?"

"I've noticed him kill people!"

"We can discuss this later," Dazai cut in. Kunikida was going to be a hard sell; he'd known that from the start. One phone conversation wasn't going to make much headway and there was no reason to hash it all out in front of Chuuya. Not yet, at least. "Ranpo, can you or can you not give Chuuya information about Arahabaki?"

"Oh, please, Dazai. You already know that answer." The sound's quality and lack of background noise suggested that Ranpo had turned the speaker off, though they could still make out Kunikida having kittens in the background.

Dazai smirked. "Humor us." He looked at Chuuya over the phone held between them. "Mr. Fancy Hat needs to hear it."

A sigh broke through the other end. "Yes, I can definitely find out information about Arahabaki. If you'd like specifics… I can find out how he works, what experiments conjured him, and why the two of you are so attached. But for all that, I will need to see the site of the incident myself and gather what information I can. I take it our friends across the way have the only copies of those files?"

"Almost certainly. I'll get them for you." Dazai ended the call, eyes still boring into Chuuya's.

There was nothing but cold surety in the snake's eyes. Chuuya hadn't seen a flicker of doubt in the last ten minutes. He scowled. "You're so damn certain I'll join?"

"I am. Because despite how I tease, you're not stupid." Dazai finally broke eye contact, standing and pocketing his phone in one of his trench coat's deep pockets. "Everything you've ever wanted on a silver platter, Chuuya, with all the downsides out in the open."

Chuuya's eyes narrowed at his ex-partner's back. He shifted his weight in preparation to stand, but a wave of pain and nausea took him and he froze again, shutting his eyes to help calm his stomach. Once the attack subsided, he glared at Dazai again. "You think you know me so damn well?"

Dazai stopped on his way out the door, one hand on the doorknob and the other in his pocket. He looked at Chuuya with a smile. "I know you very well." He pulled out his phone and pressed a button. "I'm going to run down and grab us some food. Try not to level the building while I'm gone, k? Thanks!"

He disappeared before Chuuya got a chance to argue. The later stared at the door for a moment, mouth open to argue, before he submitted to the knowledge that it would do no good and fell back against the pillow. He shut his eyes tightly for a moment while another wave of nausea washed over him. He definitely didn't remember ever feeling this shitty after Corruption.

When the sickness had past, he opened his eyes again and stared at the ceiling. What in the hell was he supposed to do here?