Chuuya Nakahara fucking hated Dazai Osamu.

Really, how could one boy be so damn infuriating all the fricking time?

When Chuuya first met Dazai (stomping on his chest and kicking him in the face for good measure, because why not) Chuuya had so not been impressed.

The Port Mafia had sent a fifteen-year-old brat to take him out? One that was suicidal as fuck on top of it? Yeah, no, he was not dealing with that shit.

And still, somehow he ended up having that mackerel for a partner.

He really couldn't understand why the hell the boss thought it would be a good idea to team them up (something about diamonds polishing diamonds).

Dazai was a nuisance, doing everything in his power to make both their lives a living hell.

There was only one kind of good thing about the annoying piece of crap that was his partner: Dazai's plans never failed.

Ever.

And Dazai wouldn't let Chuuya forget. No, the bandage wasting shithole liked to remind him at every possible moment.

"Move it, slug."

Chuuya scowled, flipping off the shithead hurrying ahead of him.

"What are you so worked up about anyway?"

Dazai smirked at him over his shoulder, hands buried in the pockets of his pants. "What, are your legs too short to keep up?"

Chuuya barely resisted the urge to pummel Mr. Know-it-all to hell and back.

"You better tell me what the fuck we're here for."

While Dazai's plans never failed, the asshole also never fucking told Chuuya what they were going to do.

Now, the crap-head had dragged Chuuya to the other side of town at two am in fucking winter without a word of explanation.

The world was dark and icy cold around them and air stabbed his lung with sharp-edged crystals.
Silence blanketed the duo, the night star-filled.

Chuuya could see his breath in the air.

Shuddering, he pulled his dark brown scarf tighter around his shoulders.

"I'm serious, Shitty Dazai, I'm not gonna freeze my balls off to entertain your god complex!"

"Oh, but you are, my Petit Mafia. I am the brains, remember, you are just the muscle."

"Watch it, you bandaged fuck, or your brains will be splattered all over the damn sidewalk."

Dazai's eyes lit up, cooing at him like a fucking child. "Aw, Chuuya-chan, I didn't know you cared so much!"

"Don't call me that!" Chuuya screeched, kicking out at Dazai's head.

The taller teenager snickered, ducking beneath the offending appendage. "If you weren't so small, maybe you wouldn't have to do the splits to reach me."

Chuuya's face turned the colour of his hair, a soft red glow illuminating him. "Imma kill you," he growled.

"Now, now, we've had this conversation. You're all bark and no bite, Chibi. A dog who hurts its master is put down, didn't you know?"

Chuuya's eyes were screaming bloody murder, fists balled so tight his nails cut into his leather gloves. Rage was simmering just below his skin, stomach crawling with tiny angry bugs.

His vision tunneled, Dazai's demonic face twisted into a grotesque grimace.

"You-"

"Aha!" exclaimed Dazai suddenly, halting Chuuya's rage-fueled words. "We're here."

Fucking brain-dead ego asshole monkey hole, the red-head fumed, picturing all the sweet ways he could torture his partner to death.

"Chuuuya," sing-songed said partner, smile so sweet Chuuya wanted to barf. "Look, look, we're here."

Here was apparently the office building of the most prominent business woman in Yokohama, Myoga Kana.

"The fuck are we doing here?"

The walking garbage can that was Dazai shook his head with an expression that was too melancholic for the freak.

"Chibikko, must I explain everything to you." He sighed deeply, pressing a fist to his chest. "Have you heard of the Japanese Tigers?"

Chuuya, snorting in exasperation, flipped him the bird. "Of course I have, Tacky Bastard."

The Japanese Tigers, a thorn in the Port Mafia's side, were a gang that had already cost the Mafia a whole bunch of money (Chuuya couldn't even think of the numbers without blanching).

"What does Myoga have to do with shit?"

Chuuya longed to punch the belittling look off of Dazai's face. "Who do you think made sure Myoga would get the business deal that turned out to be the breakthrough in her career?"

The way Dazai look down his nose at Chuuya made him seethe with burning hot anger.

"Fine, I get it, she's with the mob. So what?"

"I want you to blow this building sky high."

Chuuya stared. Huh? "Your arrogance finally cobbled up your brain cells?"

Chuuya sure as hell didn't have any dynamite with him, and while his powers were strong, he was nowhere near strong enough to blow up a whole building complex.

Maybe in a few years, with training and growing power, but now? No way.

Dazai gave him a look, one that made Chuuya's hairs rise. "What?"

A smile curled Dazai's lips, cold and calculating. He didn't say a word though.

"Mackerel, I can't."

"Chibi, when have I ever been wrong?"

The hat-wearing mafioso breathed deeply, trying to control his anger. He closed his eyes, rubbing the bridge of his nose with a scoff.

"What the hell do you even expect me to do?!"

Dazai's smirk widened in victory. "And the dog obeys its master."

"Dazai," Chuuya hissed in warning, taking a threatening step towards the dark-haired teen. "If you compare me to a fucking dog one more time, I will make sure you are trapped inside that building when I tear it down."

"So you do believe you can do it!"

Chuuya wanted to rip his hair out.

"I didn't say that!"

Dazai kept that condescending quirk to his lips, moving to pet Chuuya's head. He bit down on the bandaged hand more out of reflex than anything else.

"Ow, fuck!" Dazai clutched his bleeding hand close to his chest. "Bad dog!"

"You had it fucking coming, asshole!"

Dazai scowled at him, turning on his heel back towards the building. "The Japanese Tigers' main figures are holding a meeting there right now. If you bring the building down on their head, the gang is left leaderless and will collapse."

"Again, how do you expect me to do that? This thing is huge!"

Destroying small buildings took a lot of concentration if he didn't want to accidentally collapse the whole street, but he had never tried it on a five-story building the width of two family houses.

"It's really not that hard to figure out, Chibi. We want this to be noticed, so we gotta go big."

"Big?" Chuuya had a very bad feeling about this.

"Exactly! And what's bigger than an earthquake?"

The smaller jaw dropped. "I don't know where you got the impression I could create fucking earthquakes, but I can't."

The mackerel simply cocked his head in mock consideration. "You're right, I came out here without being sure you have the power to do my bidding. I like this freezing weather as much as you do, Slug."

"Keep your mockery to yourself, bastard," grumbled Chuuya, giving the building an appraising look.

If he could manage to create an earthquake strong enough to make the foundation crumble, the whole thing would come tumbling down.

The earthquake itself should be easy enough cause, but how was he supposed to keep it contained to this building only.

Bringing down the whole block would kill too many civilians and cause too much of a ruckus.

"Chuuuya." Dazai drew out the 'u' of his name, a muscle jumping in the red-heads jaw in irritation. "Chuuya is thinking too much, I can see his head smoking."

Ignore it and it will go away, Chuuya chanted inside his head, pressing his lips together.

Maybe Dazai could cancel out his ability if it expanded too far?

But the bastard would let him level the whole city if it benefitted him, Chuuya didn't trust him enough to care about innocents to do as he was told.

"Chuuya." A pale finger poked his cheek. "Don't ignore me." Now Dazai definitely sounded whiny.

"Chuuya, I have an idea," the brown-haired mafioso sang, bending sideways to catch a glimpse at Chuuya's face. Chuuya ignored him with a scowl.

"Slug is being mean to me!"

Chuuya's fist connected with Dazai's torso, sending the other into a coughing fit. "This slug has fists of steal and will bash your ugly mug in," he growled. God fucking damn it, how was he supposed to keep his cool if Dazai was so instant on blowing his fuse?

Clearing his throat, Dazai rubbed at the sore spot. "Fine, fine. Whatever." His lower lip jutted out in a childish pout. "But I really do have an idea."

"I'm not interested."

"Did you figure out how to cause an earthquake big enough to bring down the Tigers' leaders?"

Seriousness bled back into Dazai's voice, and Chuuya finally gave him his attention.

Despite the idiot's juvenile behaviour, Dazai had the reputation of a cold-blooded genius, feared even in the Mafia's ranks, despite his age.

Chuuya had to remind himself not to forget that.

"Yes," he sighed, crossing his arms in front of his chest. "I at least have a distant idea."

"Then why are you hesitating?"

Chuuya gritted his teeth, averting his gaze. "I won't be able to keep it to just this area."

Rolling his eyes, Dazai extended his arms to the side. "That's what I'm here for, of course! I will cancel out your ability if you go overboard."

It was exactly what Chuuya had thought of, too, but he couldn't read Dazai well enough to be sure he would do as he promised.

If innocent bystanders got caught in the crossfire, their murder would be on Chuuya.

"Chuuya, I promise I will not let you hurt anyone but the Japanese Tigers."

His words sounded sincere, but Chuuya had been tricked and manipulated too many times by the bastard to trust the tone of his words.

"You don't believe me." Dazai didn't seem too let down, irritation bleeding into his voice.

"Can you blame me?" Chuuya hissed, poking Dazai in the chest. "You aren't exactly trustworthy."

Batting his finger away, Dazai straightened his back, looming over Chuuya with a harsh, empty glare. When he spoke, his words were dead serious, a dangerous edge lacing every syllable.

"I don't care, Chuuya. You will do as I say."

Chuuya fought the immediate fight or flight response, swallowing thickly.

Expression brightening, Dazai ruffled his hair. "Unless you want to face Mori-san and tell him why we couldn't successfully finish our mission." He wore a sweet smile on his face, easy-going cheerfulness back in his voice.

Turning his back to his partner to hide the uneasy expression taking over his face, Chuuya flexed his fingers.

"Whatever," he growled. "If you don't keep your word, I'll dye all your clothes pink."

Crouching down, Chuuya removed his gloves and placed his hands flat on the ground, closing his eyes in concentration. "Get back."

Then, he began sending waves of gravity of varying strength into the floor. Clenching his teeth, he strengthened the power of his attacks.

The ground began to tremble.

"More," commanded Dazai.

"Shut it," the short mafioso gritted out, but doubled his efforts.

The ground was positively shaking now, a low rumbling sound filling the air.

Small stones cut into his hands.

"More."

Chuuya pushed down harder, flinching as the building above him made a loud, groaning sound.

Sweat started to form on his brows, his lips tasted like salt.

"More."

Shut up. His throat was dry, eyes stinging as he followed Dazai's demands.

He was hot all over, clothes sticking to his skin uncomfortably.

His breathing was too fast, he noticed dimly, pushing his powers further.

He was panting.

What...

The noise around him seemed to fade into the background, the rushing of his power, brimming with possibilities, taking over his whole being.

"More."

Chuuya screamed as he pushed his all into the ground, arms shaking, power thrumming through his every vein, the exhilarating feeling of invincibility crashing over his head like tidal waves.

There was distant laughing inside his head, echoing like a bell inside a desolate church, growing louder and louder and louder the more Chuuya pushed.

His vision blurred, red invading his sight like a disease.

More.

More, more.

Moremoremoremore .

Chuuya opened his eyes to complete silence.

"Wha-"

His knees buckled, vision blacking out. His throat was sore, like someone had taken a knife to his vocal cords and played doctor, a metallic taste filling his mouth.

His ears were crackling with static, a numb feeling spreading through his whole body, senses dulled and distant.

Something soft and boney caught him, gentle fingers running through his hair.

"Shh, I've got you."

Chuuya murmured something inaudible, head lolling against something that smelled of leather and gun powder.

"Sleep, Chuuya, you're safe."

Sleep sounds good, he decided, pressing further into the addicting warmth.

This time, he let his mind slowly drift away, realizing the weird taste inside his mouth was blood.

Why?

Chuuya came to to the sound of soft snoring.

His head was still fuzzy, his body weirdly numb, eyes refusing to obey his commands.

He moaned pitifully, sluggishly moving his head.

Dazai sat slumped into a chair, hair matted with dirt, a bloody scratch on his cheek.

Chuuya mumbled something, eyelids drooping. His finger twitched.

He was so tired.

Sleep.

The next time the red-head woke, his awareness seemed to have woken up, too.

He blinked his eyes open, blinking against harsh lighting.

Groaning, he turning his head away, realising he was in a hospital bed, white sheets soft beneath his fingers.

His gazed focused on two huge windows, spanning the entirety of the wall.

The city was laid out before him, dark sky, distant yellow lights, and high buildings.

He swallowed, wincing. His throat fucking burned. What the hell had happened?

He remembered trying to bring down the Japanese Tigers' leadership, and then... nothing.

A few images flashed before his eyes: the red glow of his powers, rubble - he could fairly remember the sound of the earth quaking open - and Dazai, asleep in a plastic chair.

He breathed deeply, slowly, painstakingly pushing himself into a sitting position.

"Slug's awake!"

And there goes my peace of mind, he bemoaned silently, fingers massaging the bridge of his nose.

Steeling himself to face the demon in his room, he forced his eyes to open- and promptly choked on nothing, ragged coughing tearing out of his throat.

What the fuck?! Dazai looked wrecked. His visible eye was a deep purple, his lip split in two places. The bloody gash Chuuya could remember from before had ripped open again, a crimson trail crawling down his chin.

Now that Chuuya looked more closely, he realized Dazai was holding himself gingerly, one arm cradled to his stomach, back slightly hunched over.

"Dazai," he rasped, cursing his dry throat and parched lips. "What the hell?"

Dazai was quick to wave his... concerns (he wasn't worried, he wasn't) away.

"You went a bit overboard back there."

He passed a glass of water to him, and Chuuya drank greedily. "What the frickin' fuck happened?"

"Arahabaki happened."

Chuuya blanched. Arahabaki, the god inside his body. Of course Chuuya had thought about the parasite deity, but there had never been a sign of the god ever taking control.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

Dazai plopped down on the edge of his partner's bed, a far-away look in his eyes.

"Chuuya, have you ever felt Arahabaki's presence before?"

"No. My powers have always been... wild, but they don't have a mind of their own or shit. That fucking god can go fuck itself for all I care."

Dazai nodded absentmindedly, picking at his bandages. "Yesterday night, Arahabaki took control."

Chuuya sucked in a sharp breath, eyes widening. What had he done in his blacked-out state of mind? How many people...

No. Chuuya squeezed his eyes shut. There was no point thinking of the dead.

"How?" he asked instead.

"You're a whole lot stronger than you realize, Chuuya. Unleashing Arahabaki made you almost unstoppable. But-" Dazai said, eyes meeting Chuuya's, "it's taking a toll on your body. You almost died tonight."

Chuuya dropped back against the pillow, closing his eyes. "Fucking hell."

"And now Chuuya has to be my dog forever!"

"Hah?!" Chuuya reached across the bed to throttle his asshole of a partner, bit Dazai leaned just out of range. Chuuya's body twinged in protest.

"Chuuya is now dependent on me."

"Don't just say shit like that!"

"But it's true," Dazai whined, eyes widening innocently.

"Explain, fucking asshole."

Dazai smirked, head cocked to the side, leaning back on his hands.

"Like I said, using Arahabaki is no good for your health. It wants destruction, and it doesn't tire, nor run out of power. So, it goes on and on, until everything is reduced to ashes.

"Now you, my little chibi, do not have the strength to endure such great output of energy. Arahabaki will destroy until your body is used up. Ergo, you die. And there's nothing you can do to stop it once Arahabaki has taken control."

He said all of it with a smile on his face, the faint glow of the moon giving his features crazed impressions.

Chuuya swallowed hard. That at least explained why his limbs felt like someone had taken a hammer to them.

"How come I'm still alive then?"

"Chuuya is so stupid sometimes!" complained Dazai, theatrically falling onto his back, arm fanned out to the sides, smacking Chuuya in the leg.

"Oi, cut it out, asshole!"

Dazai snickered, rolling his head to look at the hospitalized mafioso.

"No matter how powerful Arahabaki is, the powers he grants you are still just an ability, Slug. I used No Longer Human, obviously."

Well, shit.

"What you're saying is that, if I ever use that power without you close by-"

"You'll die, yup. Exciting, isn't it?"

"How's that exciting?!" Chuuya screeched, waving his fists threateningly.

"Your life is in my hands now." There was a dreamy expression on Dazai's face. "Well, Chibikko, I'll be going now. If I spend too much time around you, you'll infect me with your stupidity."

Chuuya refused to even consider answering to that. With a scoff, he demonstratively turned his head away from the social misfit, watching him from the corner of his eye.

Dazai pushed himself up. If Chuuya hadn't known him well enough, he would never have caught the wince of pain or the tightening of Dazai's lips.

"Hey, Mackerel. What happened to you?"

Dazai paused, putting a childish smile on his face. "Chibi went a bit crazy."

"Don't bullshit me, Dazai, I woke up in the middle of the night and saw you. That-" he growled, pointing at the bloody scratch on the brunette's cheek, "might be from me going all godly, but the rest happened later."

Dazai's eyebrows drew closer together, lips pressed into a thin line. "Leave it, Hatrack, I'm fine."

"That a load of crap." Something ugly churned inside Chuuya's stomach, making him twitchy and tingly.

At first, he'd thought that those injuries were from another failed suicide attempt, but Dazai had never been shy about those.

"Your ribs are clearly hurt, there's something up with your arm, and I doubt I have to point out the state of your face."

Shifting his weight, Dazai refused to meet his eyes, looking at a spot on his forehead. It was probably supposed to seem like he was making eye contact, but if there was one person Dazai couldn't fool, it was Chuuya.

Dazai was uncomfortable. And Chuuya didn't know what to make of that.

"Dazai," he implored, finally catching Dazai's gaze, holding it with cold determination. "Who did this to you?"

The taller stayed silent for so long, Chuuya was afraid he wasn't going to answer.

"I didn't tell the boss about what happened yesterday," Dazai finally forced out, subconsciously wringing his hands.

"He found out anyway. Wasn't all too happy with me keeping such a discovery to myself. All worried about me taking his spot and such."

Dazai shrugged with forced nonchalance.
Chuuya's mouth was suddenly bone-dry.

"Why would you keep that from him?"

"Having great power isn't always a good thing, Chuuya, especially when Mori Ogai is involved. You don't want to be special to him, believe me."

Chuuya's fists clenched around white bedsheets. What do you say to something like that? Their relationship had never been about taking hits for each other, they didn't do that kind of thing.

But Dazai did.

"I-"

"Well, now we at least found one thing you're good at, Chibi. Going out with a bang. Was about time you showed some sort of use. Dragging your unimportant ass around was becoming tiring."

It was by no means Dazai's usual snark, but Chuuya gladly took the out.

"You're the suicide obsessed bastard, asshole, who's useless, huh?!"

Dazai simply flicked his forehead, dancing out of range before Chuuya could retaliate.

"Bye, bye, Chibi."

He slipped out the door laughing, sticking his tongue out at the redhead.

"Bastard," Chuuya muttered tiredly, closing his eyes.

Bastard.