I am so, so, so, SO sorry for how long it took for me to update! Life happened - school, work, family drama and a bad case of writer's block. :( But I'm back! I got my creative juices back after watching the first three episodes of Season 3 (!) and seeing how those two met animated made me so happy and the ideas started coming again! 15-year-old Dazai and Chuuya were amazing! And adorable! The hand holding nearly made me squeal in happiness! And how Dazai was so upset Chuuya was under Kouyou cuz he was supposed to be his dog. Loved it! Anyway, watching that helped. So, this is the chapter where they finally meet! I hope I did okay with keeping them in character (more-or-less). And to apologize for how long it took to get this chapter out, I made it a little longer than the other ones were. I'm hoping to keep on a better schedule for updating, but we'll see. Enjoy!
Chuuya paused for a split second as he glanced around the grand lobby—it looked like a cross between a lobby one would see in a high-class hotel and one found in an office building of a high-rise. That wasn't why he stopped, though. He was sure he felt eyes on him, but didn't see anyone actively staring at him—looking at him curiously, yes, but not outright staring. He wanted to just shake the feeling off as him being paranoid, but even Arahabaki sensed something, moving almost restlessly in his mind. He wasn't gonna lie, it was an odd feeling… and it took quite a bit of time to get used to.
Atsushi noticed his pause and made a questioning sound. "Are you okay, Mr. Chuuya?"
The redhead swallowed down the feeling and shook it off, turning to Atsushi with a small smile. "Yeah, just fine. Thought I felt something, is all." He closed the few steps between them as the two continued walking, his boot heels clacking along the dark marble flooring, following behind the other three.
"Je suppose que le grand patron est trop beau pour nous rencontrer." Chuuya looked over at his mother when he heard her mutter under her breath before following her gaze.
She was right, Shuuji Tsushima was nowhere to be found, but his second was there, smiling serenely, as was his wife. Chuuya recognized her from the information packet provided for him a couple weeks ago, listing the main members of the Tsushima Family and what little information they had on them. Never hurt to be prepared, his father had said. With the two of them standing next to each other like that, one could definitely tell Ougai Mori and Oyama Mori Tsushima were related—raven black hair, a fair complexion, and a calculating gleam in bright magenta eyes (though Oyama's shade was more red while Mori's was closer to pink). And now both were sweeping over him, looking him over from head to toe; Chuuya felt like he was being dissected on the spot, a very uncomfortable feeling… and one he did not like. Arahabaki wasn't too pleased either, hackles standing on end.
"Ougai," Fukuzawa finally greeted, stepping up to the pair, before looking over to the woman, "Oyama."
"Yukichi, it's simply been too long." Oyama greeted, head tilted to the side with a smile as she reached out to clasp her hands with Fukuzawa's; that smile, though, was just too sweet, almost sickly so, and Chuuya didn't trust it on instinct. "You're looking well. I'm glad to see your new job isn't putting any undue stress on you."
Fukuzawa nodded politely back. "You as well, Oyama." He then turned slightly, motioning behind him. "I'd like to introduce you to Colette Nakahara," the woman nodded her head in greeting, "Kyouka Izumi," the young girl bowed respectfully, "Atsushi Nakajima," the weretiger gave a nervous wave, "and—"
"Chuuya Nakahara." Oyama cut in, calculating eyes still sweeping over the redhead, though an amused smirk started spreading on her lips. "The star of the show."
Chuuya narrowed his eyes at the tone of her voice, but restrained himself from replying the way he really wanted to; instead, he took his hat off his head, pressed it to his chest and bowed slightly—just as Kouyou told him to when he was to meet them. There was no need to give a bad impression right off the start. If the slight widening of the Mori siblings' eyes was any indication, they had not expected that.
Chuuya had to hide his satisfied smirk as he straightened back up, placing his fedora back on his head. "A pleasure to meet the both of you."
"I apologize for my husband's absence," Oyama began as she started walking, leading the rest of the group away from the lobby; Mori fell back to walk beside Fukuzawa, quietly speaking with him. "He was called away on other business." She turned back some to give them another (fake) smile. "He entrusted Ougai and I to finish things here. I hope that's alright?"
Colette had to bite her tongue, instead she replied with a (just as fake) smile. "No trouble at all, Mrs. Tsushima. I just assumed he'd be here to close one of the most important deals either of our Families had ever made, but I'm sure we can handle things just fine."
Chuuya raised his eyebrows at his mother's words—he did not expect that. It was both polite and insulting. He honestly didn't know his mother could talk that way. She was always like him—speaking straightforwardly, without riddles or double meanings disguised as niceties. He was impressed.
And if the look in Oyama's eyes was anything to go by, so was she. Her smile stopped being so fake and became more amused. "I'm sure we can, Mrs. Nakahara." A slight pause. "And please, call me Oyama. Mrs. Tsushima is so formal." The smile widened just a tad. "After all, we are about to be family."
Colette's eyebrow raised at that, but replied with, "Then you can call me Colette."
The group was then led into a conference room, a round, dark wooden table set in the middle with black rolling chairs pushed underneath it, papers and pens adorning the top of it. There were also two more people inside the room, a blonde woman and a black-haired individual (it was really hard to determine gender with an outfit and looks like that) that looked to be Atsushi's age. They were standing back in the corner, though immediately walked forward as the group walked in.
Fukuzawa tilted his head slightly as his eyes landed on the blonde. She was now wearing a sophisticated black suit, rather than a fancy kimono, but he's sure that was the woman who met them at the tea house. He knew he'd seen her somewhere before. She works for the Tsushima Family.
Atsushi's eyes squinted in thought when they landed on the black-haired one. They looked very familiar to Atsushi, but he couldn't place why. Where have I seen them before?
"Ah, Higuchi, Gin," Oyama spoke, nodding at the both of them. "Thank you for setting this up."
"Of course, Mrs. Oyama," the blonde said, bowing her head some respectfully.
Oyama then turned to her guests. "This is Ichiyou Higuchi," she gestured to the blonde, "our publicist, among other things, and this," she then gestured to the ravenette, "is Gin Akutagawa. She's my assistant in the company, among other titles."
So, a female then.
Atsushi's eyes widened then because that's where he's seen that person before. She goes to YPA with me!
"Hello," the ravenette says, in a really cute, girly voice, before looking over at the silver-haired teen. "Atsushi. It's good to see you."
"Oh?" Oyama said, in a (really fake) surprised voice. "You two know each other?"
"We go to school together, ma'am." Gin replied softly.
"How nice," the raven-haired woman said before motioning around the table. "Anyway, why don't you all take a seat? We can go over all the paperwork that was drawn up before seeing if anything needs to be added or taken off, then get this deal signed."
Everyone did just that, taking their places around the table, before copies of the contract was passed around. The next few hours were spent reading over the paperwork, points added or retracted, explained or revised. It was mostly the older adults doing the talking, the younger ones listening, as there wasn't really anything they could add. Chuuya did ask a few clarifying questions, but overall stayed quiet.
"Well," Mori said, after about four hours had went by from when they'd entered the room, "I believe that covered about everything." He looked over at his sister, who nodded, before over at Colette and Fukuzawa. "Was there anything else you'd like to add?"
Fukuzawa had shaken his head no but Colette bit her lower-lip, an idea that had been niggling in her head for the past hour popping to the forefront of her mind.
"Colette?" Fukuzawa questioned, seeing the silent hesitation on her face. "Was there something you wanted to add?"
She took in a breath, eyes flickering over to her son, who was giving her a questioning look back, before nodding decisively. "Yes, there is."
"And what might that be?" Mori asked, chin resting on his intertwined hands.
"A postponement to the wedding," she chewed her lower-lip again, "of sorts."
The Mori siblings glanced at each other in question, while the Nakahara Family members just looked at one another with confusion.
"The wedding is the linchpin tying this alliance together." Oyama finally said, after thinking through the reasons Colette could be adding this now, yet finding none. "Without it, there is no deal." She gave the redheaded woman a frosty look. "You all agreed to this."
Colette gave a heated glare right back. "And I'm not saying we call it off. I'm saying that it be postponed until results are gathered."
"And what do you mean by that?" Mori asked, head tilted.
"You are getting my son in this agreement," Colette started, looking over at Chuuya before back at them, "but how are we to know you will actually get us the results we need?"
"Are you doubting our commitment?" Oyama asked cooly. "Or are you questioning our information gathering capabilities?"
Colette waved that off. "Neither, of course. We are very well aware of how good you people are at getting information. And we aren't doubting your commitment."
"Then?" Oyama questioned, calming down.
"Just think of this as a… trial period." Colette said, crossing her arms over her chest. "The two will be engaged, Chuuya and Atsushi will still be living here, but before the marriage can actually take place, I want results."
Fukuzawa looked over at Colette, a little surprised. This was never brought up in the past month they've been talking this over. This must be something new she just thought of. But, honestly, it wasn't a bad idea.
And by the looks on both Oyama and Ougai's faces, they knew it too.
Oyama settled back into her seat, looking at the redhead with something like… respect? "What kind of results?"
"Like we've said," Colette started, leaning back in her seat as well, "the only reason we're doing this alliance is because we can't find anything on this group. And it's been three months." She ran a hand through her curls. "So, when I say results, I mean a new lead, something that will get us one step closer to putting a stop to these attacks."
Oyama hummed her understanding before looking over at her brother, eyebrow raised. As the Underboss, he had the authority to either accept or deny the request, given that the Boss, her husband, wasn't here.
Mori rolled the options around in his head, but he couldn't find any faults in that logic, if he was being honest. It was reasonable, and something they probably would have done if the roles were reserved. Plus, they weren't pulling out of the agreement, they were just making sure the Tsushima Family held up their side of the bargain.
"Alright, you have a deal." Mori finally replied.
Colette sat up a little straighter after his words, honestly surprised it was that easy, but glad that it was. "Good, thank you."
Oyama turned to the second-to-last page of both of the final contracts (one for the Nakahara's, one for the Tsushima's) and added in Colette's condition, adding her initials beside it. Once that was done, she signed her name underneath the signature of her husband's (as he had already signed) at the bottom of the pages before passing it over to her brother, who did the same thing. She then pushed the two contracts across the table to Colette, who signed her name before bringing out a stamper.
"What's that?" Oyama asked, though was pretty sure she knew what it was.
"My husband's signature." Colette said, placing it on the paper, above her signature, before doing the same on the other contract. She then looked up. "Since he couldn't be here in person, he gave this to me, as well as the authorization to do so." She reached into her coat's pocket and pulled out a sealed envelope, placing it on the table before pushing it to Oyama. "This is a certified letter allowing me to do so, by the way."
Oyama took the envelope, but didn't open it. "Very well."
Colette passed the contracts over to Fukuzawa, who signed both as well, before it was finally placed in front of Chuuya.
The petite redhead glanced down at the contracts, before looking over at his mother, who smiled and passed him a pen. He took it from her, steadying his breathing as he did so. This was it. As soon as he signed this, his life was no longer his own. He would be the fiancé of the Tsushima Family's heir, and then… his husband, part of the Tsushima Family. A hand landed on his knee, his mother's, before giving it a reassuring squeeze. At that—at the reminder of why he was doing this—his nerves settled and he flipped to the very last page, where there was only one signature present—the signature of his fiancé, Osamu Dazai Tsushima. His eyes traced the ink, trying to get a feel for the man through his penmanship alone, before giving up and adding his own full name to the page of both contracts—Chuuya Sidonie Nakahara.
With that, the alliance was sealed.
Dazai smiled as he watched the petite orange-haired man place the pen down on the table once he finished signing his name on the contracts. Right next to his. A moment after that, his cellphone, which was resting right next to the laptop on the coffee table, started buzzing. He checked the screen.
Uncle
Dazai narrowed his eyes, flicking them between the laptop screen, watching as the black-haired man left the room, and his phone, before picking it up and accepting the call.
"Uncle Mori!" Dazai said with (fake) enthusiasm. "What can I do for you?"
"As I'm sure you're well aware, the contract has been signed." Mori started, with no preamble. "The alliance has been secured."
"And how would I know that?" Dazai asked, (fake) confusion in his tone and a pout on his lips. "I've been in my room the whole time, just like you told me to."
"I'm sure you were, Dazai." Mori said, a little condescendingly. "But that doesn't mean you aren't aware of what took place in the meeting."
Dazai just hummed out, not bothering to reply.
"So I'd like you to go the conference room you were in earlier, when you watched the Nakahara Family arrive," he instructed, a knowing smirk in his tone.
"Conference room?" Dazai questioned, playing dumb. It wasn't a surprise his uncle knew where he had been, after all.
Mori ignored him. "I think it's time for you to meet your fiancé, don't you?" And with that, he hung up, having said what he needed to.
Dazai stared down at the phone screen before rolling his eyes, returning them to the laptop screen just as Mori walked back in. He said something to his mother before turning and looking straight at the hidden camera in the room, eyebrow raised and mouth in a smirk.
Dazai scoffed before closing his laptop and standing, grabbing both his phone and trench coat before leaving his living quarters. He whistled his favorite suicide song as he walked down the short hallway and entered the elevator, pressing the button for the floor he had previously been on. Mori had been right about that, at least. It was about time he and Chuuya finally met each other.
And Dazai couldn't wait to see what the smaller man would do then.
Once the contracts had been signed, Mori had excused himself to make a phone call before coming right back in a minute later, talking to his sister, and then asking Chuuya if he would please follow him—it was time to meet his fiancé. After talking down both his mother and Atsushi from coming with him—yes, I'll be just fine meeting him on my own—he followed after Mori to an elevator at the end of the hall, both getting in.
The silence in the elevator was stifling, to the say the least. Chuuya kept to the far corner, not wanting to seem rude but, honestly, Ougai Mori put him on edge. And not just him, Arahabaki too. There was something about the older man that rubbed him the wrong way. He was glad the man didn't make small talk with him either as the elevator continued its movement upward. The elevator finally stopped and Chuuya was ushered out, with Mori right behind him, and then led to another door that looked identical to the one he just left.
So, probably another conference room.
"Dazai should be waiting inside for you." Mori finally said, giving another one of those creepy smiles. "Take as much time as you need." Then the other man was walking away, back to the elevator.
Chuuya took a minute to compose himself, smoothing down his clothes and running a gloved hand through his hair to neaten it up a bit, though cursing himself the entire time. Kouyou's teachings on always looking your best, especially for first meetings, were drilled so deep into him that it'd become second nature by now. He didn't care what he looked liked to his so-called fiancé—at least that's what he was trying to tell himself.
One more deep, steadying breath before he placed his hand on the doorknob and turned it, pushing open the door and stepping inside. As soon as he closed the door behind himself, he looked up, finally locking eyes with the man he was to marry—Osamu Dazai, leaning against the back wall across from where the door was situated, on the other side of the large table.
The first thing to catch his attention were his eyes—they almost looked like the color of old blood, maybe from the lighting, but they were intense. In that instant, he felt like this man could see through him and down to his very soul, find and figure out every single one of his secrets. Those were the eyes of a mastermind, a high-caliber strategist. In some ways they reminded Chuuya of Ranpo's, when he was using his Ability, but Dazai's were just more… more. He was someone who could see twenty steps ahead of any situation and find a solution to any problem in less than a minute.
He could see why this man was known as the Demon Prodigy.
Once he got past the eyes, he looked to see a young man, definitely his age, who was… very handsome, if he was going to be honest. A lanky build that didn't seem to posses much muscle, though that's not to say he looked weak, a mop of mildly wavy hair the color of dark chocolate with bangs both gathered over the center of his forehead and framing his face, somewhat light tan skin and narrow eyes (much like his mother's) which actually seemed to be more of a burgundy brown color. The brunet was dressed in a trench coat the color of sand, with a plum brown inner-lining and the belt left untied, kept open over a chocolate brown waistcoat and pale blue dress shirt—both the coat and shirt's sleeves were rolled up to about his forearms—but instead of a normal tie, the man was wearing a brown bolo tie that seemed to be kept together by some kind of azure-colored pendant; below the waist, he was wearing beige khaki pants, a black belt with a silver rectangular buckle, and dark brown dress shoes. Fukuzawa also warned him that Dazai seemed to carry some kind of gun, maybe kept in a back-waistband holster… not that it really mattered much to Chuuya.
When his eyes moved back up his body, he noticed something else. Much to his displeasure, the brunet was taller… by maybe seven or eight inches. Dammit, why is everyone so goddamn tall!
I do not believe it is that everyone is tall, only that you are short. Arahabaki chimed in his head, amusement lacing his words.
Chuuya pointedly ignored the God because something else just caught his attention—what the hell was with all those goddamn bandages? Was the man hurt or something? Was Chuuya marrying a weakling after all? He knew the Tsushima weren't known for their brawn, but the amount of bandages the brunet was wrapped in was just absurd.
Furrowing his eyebrows, the ginger tilted his head in question before finally speaking. "What the hell is with all those bandages? You look ridiculous." Chuuya wanted to smack himself. The first words he'd ever spoken to his fiancé, and it was basically an insult. Kouyou would've killed him if she were here.
Dazai's eyebrows raised, in surprise it seemed, before a glint of amusement flashed in his eyes. "Oh really?" He then snorted. "You know what, I don't want to hear fashion criticism from someone who would willingly wear a hat like that." The brunet motioned at his fedora, his face now twisted in childish disgust. "And in public, no less."
The look made his hand fly to his precious fedora instinctively, expression turning into a scowl. "What the hell is wrong with my—" Chuuya cut himself off as the wording Dazai had used occurred to him. "Wait a second, did you just say fashion?" His eyebrows furrowed again as he looked the man up and down. "So you aren't injured?"
The brunet looked amused again. "Yes and no."
"What the hell does that even mean?" Chuuya's hands were now resting on his hips in exasperation. "You either are or you aren't."
Dazai had the gall to simply shrug, not answering his question as his attention focused back on his head. "Really, I have to know— where did you find such a tacky hat?"
The ginger clenched his jaw. Not even three minutes in and he wants to strangle this bastard. "It's not tacky, you mummified freak." He let out a low growl. "And only someone insane would consider wrapping himself in bandages as a fashion statement."
The smirk on the brunet's lips widened, pushing himself off the wall he had been leaning against and moving closer to the table that separated them. "What about the collar then?"
Chuuya looked at Dazai in confusion. "Collar? What are you talking about?"
Dazai shook his head in mock embarrassment. "Oh, my bad, I meant to say your choker." His head tilted to side, hair following the movement as his eyes swept over the piece of leather in question. "Though collar is a much more fitting name for it, I think." Both Chuuya's jaw and fists clenched in annoyance once more as Dazai tapped his chin in faux-thought. "Does that make you a dog, then? The rumors about you would make it seem so— loyal to a fault and as rabid as one in battle. The Nakahara Family's very own dog." Those old blood eyes then moved to meet his, almost burning in their intensity that it made Chuuya want to look away, but he didn't (he wasn't a coward). "Well, I guess that would make you my dog now, wouldn't it? I mean, I do own you now."
Chuuya was struck speechless by that, with two dominant emotions rolling around him at the moment. The first he was trying to desperately ignore—the shivers skating down his spine to lodge somewhere lower as that sweet-as-honey voice rolled over him, sounding like pure sin. No one should be allowed to sound like that, it just wasn't fair. So, he focused on his second emotion—pure pissed-off anger. This smug son of a bitch was about to learn why you don't taunt the rabid dog. Dazai watched in amusement, and in some amazement, as a crimson red glow started to surround the shorter man.
Before he could even think through his actions, Chuuya had grabbed the rolling chair closest to him, the crimson glow of For the Tainted Sorrow moving to affect the chair in question, now making it as heavy as a boulder, before he was chucking it at the infuriating bastard.
Of course Dazai had already predicted that something like this would happen, so he merely spun out of the way of the projectile, watching in fascination as the chair hit the wall behind him and left a deep crater in it, like a large rock had hit it and not a mere chair. So he can manipulate the gravity of anything he touches. How interesting.
Dazai looked back over at the petite ginger, who seemed to be staring at the dent he made with shock, before letting out a reprimanding tsk. "So naughty, Chuuya~ Now we're going to have to have that wall fixed." He crossed his arms over his chest, shaking his head in mock disappointment. "It seems like you were never trained. Do I have to discipline you like bad dog too?"
Chuuya's eyes—so pretty, so blue—snapped up to his in an instant before he was growling out, "You absolute piece of shit! I am not a dog!" His fists clenched beside him. "I'm going to kill you if you don't shut up!"
Dazai, to the ginger's surprise, started clapping happily like he just received the best news instead of being scared (like he should be). "Would you really?!" He clasped his hands to his chest then and pretended to swoon. "Maybe you really aren't that hopeless!"
Chuuya, still thrown by this peculiar reaction, could only respond with, "What is your problem? Are you some kind of suicidal brat?"
Now Dazai was pouting. "I really don't want to be called a brat by someone so tiny they could probably fit inside a bottle." Then he was smirking again, as condescendingly as possible. "Didn't you drink your milk when you were younger? How are you still this short?"
And just like that, Chuuya's fragile patience and self-control snapped, that same red glow from before enveloping him and he was suddenly airborne. After decreasing his own mass, he launched himself over the conference table in a split second and right at Dazai, nothing in his head but the need to punch him right in his stupidly-handsome face.
But Dazai had predicted this too.
As soon as Chuuya was right in from of him, Dazai grabbed ahold of the petite man's wrist, a flash a light blue coming from the contact, before spinning with the momentum and ending with him pinning Chuuya to the wall, right next to the crater he had just made.
Chuuya was shocked when he suddenly had his mass back, but even more so to find himself pinned to a wall. What the hell just happened?
"You look confused." Dazai suddenly said, hand still wrapped firmly around the other's wrist.
Chuuya blinked as he looked up at the brunet, not even trying to hide that confusion, before shouting, "What the fuck did you just do to me?!"
If possible, Dazai looked even more smug than before, head cocked to the side as he continued to gaze down at the ginger. "I'm guessing none of you were able to figure out what my Gift was, were you?"
No, they weren't. Not for lack of trying, though. Even Ranpo couldn't figure it out. Among other things they'd figured out about the family, it seems the Gifts the top tier of the Tsushima Family possessed were a closely guarded secret. They only knew about the one Mori had, and that was only because of his relationship with Fukuzawa. As for the others, nothing. Absolutely nothing. But Osamu Dazai's? His was the closest guarded secret of them all. All they knew for sure was it was strong, and dangerous. That was the only thing they could figure out, from what the rumors had said.
Chuuya was starting to understand that they might not be exaggerated.
"I'll take your silence as a no." Dazai said, hand tightening its hold on Chuuya slightly. "Since we're about to be married and all that, I guess I can tell you." He leaned down slightly, less than an inch between their faces. "My Ability, No Longer Human, can nullify the Abilities of anyone I touch." He released his grip as he then danced his fingers lightly over the ginger's wrist in a gentle caress, up and down. "It doesn't matter how strong the Ability. As long as I'm in physical contact, their Gift is rendered useless." His head tilted slightly, smile dropping some and eyelids dropping to half-mast. "I'm the ultimate Anti-Gifted."
Chuuya sucked in a sharp breath after that admission (not because Dazai was so close to his face, don't be ridiculous!), before something he should've noticed right away slammed into his awareness. I can't feel Arahabaki. For as long as Chuuya could remember, he has always been able to hear, or at least sense, the God in one way or another, as he's always been a part of him… but, right now, he can't. It's like he isn't there anymore. Is it because of Dazai? But that shouldn't be possible. Arahabaki is a God, not a mere Ability. There's no way he could be nullified, right?
Before today, he would've been confident in those thoughts, but right here, right now, he's not so sure anymore. The fact is, he can't sense Arahabaki, nor use his Ability… and it's Dazai's fault. That fact suddenly broke his stasis, propelling him to yank his hand from the brunet's and shove the man away from him. Everything snapped back into focus the second there was space between them.
—uuya. Chuuya Nakahara! Can you hear me? Hey, are you there, you brat?! He finally heard Arahabaki shout at him, the words ringing loudly through his mind.
Who the hell are you call a brat, you overgrown black hole!? Chuuya shouted back at the God in his mind, though kept his eyes on Dazai, who was watching him right back—he almost seemed surprised by Chuuya's reaction.
Arahabaki seemed to give a sigh of relief. There you are. What happened? I was not able to hear or sense you for a good two minutes. I do not think that has ever happened before.
Chuuya didn't have the time to explain to the God what happened with Dazai's unnerving eyes watching him. I'll explain it all later, okay? Just not now. It isn't a good time.
Arahabaki humphed but agreed, going quiet once more… but still there.
With that settled, Chuuya narrowed his eyes once more, glaring at the brunet. "Don't ever do that again, you waste of bandages."
Dazai raised an eyebrow. "Do what, exactly? Touch you?" His lips turned up into what Chuuya was starting to think was his default smirk. "That might be a bit difficult, Chibi." He leaned closer to the ginger, smirk growing when Chuuya visibly fought the urge to lean back. "We are about to be married, after all."
Chuuya clenched down on his teeth. "Who the hell are you calling small, you mackerel-eyed bastard?!"
Before Chuuya could react, Dazai had tapped his nose lightly, but didn't keep the contact—much to Chuuya's relief. "You, of course. You're so tiny I feel like I need to get a leash for that collar of yours so I don't lose you in a crowd!"
Dazai ducked out of the way of Chuuya's foot this time, switching positions with Chuuya in the process, before the petite hatrack was grabbing another chair. Dazai, wisely, threw himself over the table, sliding across the slick surface and landing on the other side just as the chair was hefted after him. Like before, the mass was increased, and not wanting to fix another hole, Dazai stepped out of the way before tapping the chair on its way past him, nullifying the ginger's Ability on the object. It then hit the door, but didn't take it off the hinges, like it would've if he hadn't touched it.
The brunet tsked again. "I thought I told you it isn't nice to make unnecessary holes in other people's buildings, Chuuya~ Your brain seems to process things at a slug's pace, huh?"
Chuuya let out a yell of pure frustration, much to Dazai's ever growing amusement, but before he could launch either another chair or himself at the smug asshole, there was a knock at the door before it was pushed open. There, in the hallway, stood both their mothers.
The two women took a moment to take in the scene before them—Dazai and Chuuya on opposite sides of the room, a deep dent in the wall behind Chuuya with a chair laying next to it (seemingly the cause of said dent), another chair laying discarded near to the door, and then the young men themselves. Chuuya was fuming, looking the angriest and most annoyed Colette has ever seen him before, while Dazai looked plain amused, hands in his coat pockets and childish glee in his eyes, looking the most entertained Oyama has ever remembered her son being.
Oyama cleared her throat, looking over at her son in question. "I take it your introductions went well?"
Dazai's eyes moved to his mother, smirk widening. "But of course! My dear fiancé and I have been having a great time," he looked back over at the ginger, "right, Chuuya?"
Chuuya looked about three seconds away from exploding, Colette noted. They've only been in this room for about thirty minutes. What happened in that time to make Chuuya this pissed off?
"Just fantastic." Chuuya gritted out, finally composing himself and locking every emotion this man just evoked from him. He can't lose it in front of his mother, and even more so in front of Dazai's mother. He'll deal with everything later… by beating the shit out of a punching dummy, maybe. He rounded the table then, coming to stand next to his mother.
"That's… good." Colette said slowly, not quite believing Chuuya's words, but knowing not to push things. "I've already contacted Kunikida to start having your and Atsushi's belongings brought over." Her gaze moved to the brunet, spine straightening some as she registered his gaze. It was so intense, that of someone who saw everything you were trying to hide. "Where should I have their things delivered?"
"Floor 66." Dazai waltzed closer to the petite woman, ignoring Chuuya's glare. "It's where my living quarters are, after all."
"Yours?" Colette asked, hesitant.
Dazai's smirk turned downright devilish. "Yes, my quarters. Where else would my future bride be living?"
Nope, Chuuya was going to punch the bastard now, screw their audience. But before he could even make a step, his mother's hand was tightening around his forearm, Ability active, halting him. But that stupid mackerel called him a bride! He wasn't a goddamn woman!
Colette could feel the animosity coming off her son—as did the man in front of her, but it only seemed to amuse him further. She shook the arm in her grip to get his attention, but deactivated her Ability. "Calme-toi, Chuuya. Peu importe combien tu veux tuer cet homme, tu ne peux pas. Pas encore, au moins. Nous avons toujours besoin de leur aide." She narrowed her eyes at him seriously. "Rappelez-vous pourquoi nous faisons cela."
Chuuya huffed out a few more angry breaths before closing his eyes and forcing himself to calm down. His mother was right, of course. "Désolé, Maman. Tu as raison." He let out another harsh breath. "C'est juste… ce connard pousse chacun de mes boutons. Sans effort! Ce n'est pas juste!"
Colette moves her hand to rest on Chuuya's head, over his hat. "Je comprend, ma chère. Mais rappelez-vous, c'est ce qu'ils font bien Vos réactions lui donnent tout ce dont il a besoin. Gardez juste votre esprit concentré sur la tâche à accomplir, essayez d'ignorer ses mots."
"Plus facile à dire qu'à faire, Maman." He let out one last breath before composing himself. "Mais j'essayerai. Je promets." He looked up at her and smiled some.
"C'est tout ce que je vous demande, mon garçon." She patted his head one last time before dropping her hand.
At the beginning of that whole exchange, Dazai and his mother exchanged bemused looks as they listened to the two Nakahara converse in fluent French. Honestly, Dazai didn't really think the petite redhead could get any more appealing, but then he goes and does this. Honestly, the foreign words were beautiful coming from those cupid's bow lips. What made it all the better was the fact that they didn't seem to realize he—his mother, too—could understand French, as well as several other languages he'd learned when he was bored. But he wasn't going to let this little fact slip just yet. Better to let them think he had no idea what they were talking about. A glance at his mother told him she agreed.
When the conversation seemed to come to a close, Dazai clapped his hands together lightly, getting the two gingers' attention. "Don't you know it's rude to talk in a different language in front of other people?"
Chuuya scoffed, looking away, while Colette turned to face the man again before inclining her head slightly. "You are right, our apologies. That was rather rude, wasn't it?"
This family never ceases to amaze me, Dazai thinks, smirk widening at Colette's words, but even more so at Chuuya's reaction to those words—annoyed disdain.
"I don't think were were formally introduced either." Colette added, moving a little closer to the taller man, Chuuya making sure to stay right behind her. "I'm Chuuya's Mother, Colette Sidonie Nakahara. It's a pleasure to meet you." She gave a formal greeting bow, shocking Chuuya a little. His mother is just full of surprises today.
"Osamu Dazai," the brunet responded in kind, giving her a bow too. "It's an honor to meet such a beautiful woman who is going to be my mother-in-law."
"Un bavard, hein?" Colette muttered to herself while her son just scoffed again. "Cela pourrait être dangereux."
"À peine." Chuuya murmured under his breath, having heard her.
Ignoring that, Dazai straightened back up, placing his hands back in his coat pockets. "As much fun as this has been, I believe you said Chuuya's things were being delivered?"
Colette nodded. "As well as Atsushi's." She, as well as Chuuya, followed Dazai and Oyama out of the room, heading to the elevators. "Speaking of, where will he be staying?
Oyama pressed the down button for the elevator car while Dazai looked back at their guests. "Ah, yes, Atsushi." His gaze moved to Chuuya, amusement dancing in his eyes once more. "You're bodyguard, if I'm not mistaken." He knows he's not, but he also knows how much the wording will irk the smaller man.
"Atsushi is not my bodyguard, you asshole." Chuuya bit out, hands clenched in his coat pockets and eyes narrowed at Dazai. "He's my friend." He tossed his head. "Like I would need a bodyguard."
Colette rolled her eyes at that before looking as the elevator finally arrived, the four boarding it; Oyama pressed the lobby button.
"To answer your question," Dazai said, looking back over at Colette, "Atsushi will be staying with the other two who live on my floor."
"What?" Chuuya asked, a little taken back. "You're not the only one living on your floor?" That was unusual, especially for the heir of the Family.
Dazai waved his hand in the air, like he was waving away a pesky fly. "No, no. I didn't need all that space."
"And who might these people be?" Chuuya asked lowly, reigning in his temper once again.
"Ryuunosuke and Gin Akutagawa. They're a pair of siblings that work for us." Dazai answered, glancing between the two gingers. "I believe you met Gin earlier, in your meeting."
"You mean the one you weren't present for, dear?" Oyama finally spoked, asking the question with a raised eyebrow and amused twinkle in her magenta eyes.
"Of course, Mother!" Dazai said, smiling innocently. "I just assumed Gin would be in the meeting, given she is your assistant."
Oyama just let out a chuckle, turning away from her son at the answer.
"Atsushi did say he went to school with Gin." Chuuya said, mostly to himself. He should be okay, right? Plus, they're on the same floor. If anything happens—
Arahabaki interrupted his train of thought. If anything happens, Byakko would protect the boy in an instant. You know that better than anyone.
Chuuya let out a silent sigh. You're right, of course. I still can't help but worry, I didn't mean to drag him into this. He shook his head some, getting rid of such thoughts. Atsushi will be fine. Arahabaki chuckled some at the forceful statement, but agreed with him.
The three in the elevator noticed Chuuya's sudden silence, though only Colette knew the real reason as to why—he was talking with Arahabaki. Before she could speak, distract them from looking any closer at Chuuya, the elevator came to a stop and the doors slid open to the lobby.
Chuuya had barely set foot off the elevator when a white-haired blur was suddenly running right at him, skidding to a stop in front of him.
"Mr. Chuuya!" Atsushi exclaimed, a little out of breath. "Are you okay? Did everything go alright?"
Chuuya smiled some before he reached up and ruffled Atsushi's hair. "I'm okay, Atsushi." And as for his other question…
"Aww! Chibi can barely even reach the top of his head! Isn't he younger than you?" an annoying voice called out from right behind him.
Chuuya clenched his jaw, biting down on the instant reflex of drop-kicking the brunet into a different building. "Alright isn't the word I'd use."
Atsushi had to resist the urge to take a step back, hackles raising instinctively at the ire and pure annoyance he can feel radiating off the ginger. "Mr. Chuuya?" He looked back and forth between the two men.
"You must be Atsushi!" the brunet said cheerily, moving to stand next to Chuuya now.
"Yes?" the silver-haired boy said slowly, more like a question as he glanced back over at Chuuya, who seemed to be restraining the urge to commit murder, before over at the bandaged man once more.
"I'm Osamu Dazai." the man greeted, holding out a hand to shake. "Nice to meet you!"
"You as well." Atsushi said, remembering the manners Miss Kouyou drilled into him as he reached up to return the handshake… though he didn't get the chance to.
Chuuya's hand shot out, grabbing onto Dazai's arm (over his coat, no skin contact) and squeezing it. "Don't even think about it, you bandaged asshole."
"Mr. Chuuya?" the weretiger said, confused, while Dazai merely smirked, like he expected this to happen.
"So protective," the brunet murmured out, smirk widening. "And here I though he was your bodyguard, Chibi."
The grip on Dazai's tightened. "I told you already, he is not my bodyguard!" He threw the brunet's arm away from him, face lined in annoyance.
Atsushi was about to ask what was going on, but Chuuya glanced over at him and mouthed later, so Atsushi let it drop as the ginger moved over to stand next to him while Dazai wandered away from them, being called over by someone else—a black-haired man with round glasses. As soon as Dazai left them, Chuuya went on to explain to the teen their living arrangements… and to say Atsushi was shocked was an understatement.
"I'm going to be living with Gin, and her brother?" Atsushi asked, arms crossed tightly over his chest. "But I don't even know the guy! Wouldn't that be rude or something?"
Chuuya laid a calming hand on Atsushi's bicep. "We'll still be on the same floor, so it won't be too bad." He gave a small smile. "And I doubt they'd tell us this if it wasn't already alright. You already know Gin, at least."
Atsushi relaxed some, dropping his arms. "That's true." He glanced around the lobby. "What about her brother? Did they tell you anything about him?"
"All I know is his name— Ryuunosuke Akutagawa." Chuuya told him, his arms crossed over his chest now, foot tapping on the floor. "He's about two years older than you, with some sort of battle-oriented Ability. That's it." He ran a gloved hand through his hair, displacing his hat some. "Like anything to do with this Family, information is very hard to get. You might want to ask Gin about him, if you really want to know."
The weretiger blew out a breath and nodded. "Okay. I think I will." He scratched the back of his head. "Is he here now?"
Chuuya shook his head. "That waste of bandages said he was out on some mission, but he should be back in a day or two."
Atsushi raised an eyebrow at the nickname, remembering the earlier hostility. "You sound like you really don't like Mr. Dazai."
Chuuya huffed out an unamused breath, glancing over at where the brunet was still talking with the black-haired man, before back at the teen. "That is an understatement." His fists clenched. "That asshole is a menace, and I don't see how anyone could like him after spending just two minutes with him."
This is the most upset Atsushi's seen Chuuya in a long time. "What did he do to you? You were only together for like thirty minutes!"
"He insulted everything from my height to my clothes, pushing every single one of my buttons like he just knew where they were!" Chuuya spat out, teeth grinding. "But that wasn't even the worst part."
Atsushi cocked his head in question.
The ginger blew out another breath harshly. "I can't tell you that here, though. Later." He glanced around. "Too many ears."
Atsushi looked surprised at that, before realizing it probably had something to do with their Gods.
"Just," the teen looked back at the ginger, "don't let your guard down around these people." He gave Atsushi a serious look, lowering his voice. "Either of you, got it?"
Atsushi, though puzzled, nodded. "Of course, Mr. Chuuya."
Character Descriptions
- Oyama Mori Tsushima (OC): waist-length, straight raven black hair with choppy bangs; magenta red eyes; a fair complexion; a slender body with a hourglass figure, moderate bust, flat stomach, and slender legs; sharp eyes; 5'8"
Role: Consigliere/Executive of the Tsushima Family; COO of Tsushima Corporations
Age: 42
Birthday: January 7
Nationality: Japanese
Ability: The Courier
the ability to teleport herself and others to a location that had been previously marked with her own blood; since the destination was predetermined, she did not need to worry about "not seeing where she was going"
Capabilities/Weapon(s) -
expert in Kenjutsu, Nitōjutsu, Ninjutsu, and Close-Quarters Combat
expert markswoman: a very accurate marksman skilled in sharpshooting; accuracy was virtually unerring; able to hurl objects with extreme speed and accuracy, both in direct aim and complicated rebounds/interactions
proficiency and discipline in shooting with a consistent grip and form
immense intelligence, master assassin, and skilled in espionage, intelligence gathering, infiltration and sabotage
master tactician: a masterful strategist due to high intelligence
possessed an instinctive ability to "read" behavioral characteristics and manipulate people
skilled in psychological warfare: art of manipulating the mind to get the desired reaction from the victim
skilled lie detector, lip reader, cryptographer, thief, pickpocket, lock picker, bluffer/fast talker, concealer, sleight of hand, and escape artist
twin 2907K Hissatsu: a tanto-style, dual-grind, single-edged stainless steel blade; a Japanese-pattern, twin-fused, double injection-molded handle with a high-impact polypropylene core, butt and hilt and a rubber grip surface
SIG-Sauer P226R: a full-sized, service-type, semi-automatic pistol; a double-action trigger; a locked breech short-recoil method; a Nitron-coated, stainless steel slide; an anodized aluminum alloy frame; a decocking lever on the left side of the frame above the magazine release button; a rail on the underside of the frame, just forward of the trigger guard; double stack magazines
Main Outfit: a black cotton-gabardine double-breasted trench coat with horn buttons, buttoned epaulettes, a dark byzantium purple inner-lining, and a tie belt—left open; a dark byzantium purple crepe top with a slightly loose fit, bishop long sleeves, and a plunging keyhole cutout at the front accented by a black tie-fastening; black silk-blend, high-rise, slim-leg pants; dark brown satin mules with the straps and edges dotted by crystals; two-toned gold and white bronze bubble hoop earrings; twin 2907K Hissatsu—kept sheathed with the hilts facing opposite sides on lower-back; SIG-Sauer P226R—kept holstered at right hip; hair's worn up in a high ponytail
- Ichiyou Higuchi: nape-length, straight golden yellow blonde hair with choppy bangs and twin jaw-length side-locks; deep reddish-brown eyes; a fair complexion; a slender body with a hourglass figure, average bust, flat stomach, and slender legs; 5'6"; black rectangular sunglasses
Role: Caporegime of the Tsushima Family; Public Relations Manager of Tsushima Corporations; Commander in the Black Lizard Squad
Age: 25
Birthday: May 2
Nationality: Half-English/Half-Japanese
Ability: Unknown Name
Capabilities/Weapon(s) -
expert in Close-Quarters Combat
expert markswoman/sharpshooter: an expert all-around master markswoman, highly skilled in wielding conventional firearms with virtually unerring accuracy; due to superior eyesight and impeccable hand-eye coordination, capable of firing multiple shots in a few seconds, strike enemies's weak points with extreme accuracy and directly hit small targets in the greatest of distances; able to hurl objects with extreme speed and accuracy, both in direct aim and complicated rebounds/interactions; extremely capable of hitting multiple targets in a few quick shots and directly hitting small targets in the greatest of distances, never missing; had superior hand-eye coordination; had limitless patience; able to plan meticulously; capable of intense concentration for long periods of time under adverse conditions
proficiency and discipline in shooting with a consistent grip and form
master assassin and skilled in espionage, intelligence gathering, infiltration and sabotage
possessed an instinctive ability to "read" behavioral characteristics and manipulate people
skilled thief, pickpocket, lock picker, bluffer/fast talker, concealer, sleight of hand, and escape artist
Glock 17: a full-size service pistol, shooting the 9x19mm pistol cartridge; a short-recoil operated, striker-fire semi-automatic pistol; a high-strength polymer frame; a steel slide with a matte black Tenifer finish; a safe-action trigger system; an integral accessory rail; a white-dot front sight; a white-bracket rear sight dovetailed into the slide and drift adjustable; slide cycles on 4 hardened steel guide rails within the frame; two standard 17-round magazines or two 10-round magazines
M249 SAW: a belt-fed, gas-operated, open bolt, light machine gun; a quick-change, air-cooled barrel; a folding bipod with adjustable legs attached near the
Steyr SPP: a semi-automatic machine pistol; a short-recoil, locking rotating barrel; a delayed blowback; constructed mainly from Polyamide 66
Sub-Machine Guns
Main Outfit: a black grain de poudre wool blazer jacket with a button fastening at front, padded shoulders, and a nipped-in waist—left open; a white oxford blouse; black grain de poudre wool flared dress pants with a concealed hook and zip fastening at front; a black belt with a silver buckle; black loafers; a black shoulder harness—worn underneath jacket with Glock 17 kept holstered; hair's kept tied up in a messy bun
- Gin Akutagawa: butt-length, wavy, silky raven black hair with a few chest-length side-strands; silvery-gray eyes; a fair complexion; a slender body with a hourglass figure, petite bust, flat stomach, and slender legs; 5'4"; a black leather choker with a white cross on it
Role: Giovane d'onore of the Tsushima Family; Oyama's Personal Assistant in Tsushima Corporations; Commander in the Black Lizard Squad; High School Student at Yokohama Private Academy (3rd Year/12th Grade)
Age: 18
Birthday: February 4
Nationality: Japanese
Ability: N/A
Capabilities/Weapon(s) -
expert in Ninjutsu, Kenjutsu, Knife Throwing, and Close-Quarters Combat
expert markswoman: a very accurate markswoman skilled in projectile weaponry; accuracy was virtually unerring; able to hurl objects with extreme speed and accuracy, both in direct aim and complicated rebounds/interactions
master assassin, skilled in espionage, intelligence gathering, infiltration and sabotage, and well-versed in the art of observation, perception, deductive reasoning and interrogation
possessed an instinctive ability to "read" behavioral characteristics and manipulate people
skilled thief, pickpocket, lock picker, bluffer/fast talker, concealer, sleight of hand, and escape artist
twin Chokutō: a straight, single-edged, stainless steel blade with an angled tip; a black wooden rectangular hilt; a black scabbard
Stiletto Daggers: a long, slender, stainless steel blade with a needle-like point and a narrow cross-section; a small black hilt; a silver cross-guard
Glock 26: a subcompact semi-auto pistol; striker, short-recoil operated, and locked-breech barrel; dual recoil spring assembly; a high-strength polymer frame; a steel slide and barrel with matte black Tenifer finish; finger grooves on the front strap and a finger rest on the front of the trigger guard aid; slide cycles on 4 hardened steel guide rails within the frame; a white-dot front sight; a white-bracket rear sight; two double-stack 10-round magazines
Main Outfit: a black asymmetrical-sleeved, flared, leather coat with a hood and a long right sleeve and no left sleeve; a gray pin-striped, V-neckline t-shirt; black leather pants; a black belt with a silver buckle; black leather, mid-heeled, ankle boots; rose pink fingerless, bicep gloves; a white surgical mask that covered the lower part of face; twin Chokutō—kept sheathed with the hilts facing opposite sides on lower-back, in belt; Glock 26—kept in holster on left hip; hair's kept tied up into a spiky bun with a few loose strands along the left side of face
School Uniform: a white long-sleeved sailor fuku uniform blouse with a white stripe circling either black cuff, a black sailor-style collar (with one white stripe), and a crimson red scarf tied in the front and laced through a black loop attached to the blouse; a black pleated sailor fuku uniform miniskirt; black tights; brown penny loafers; twin Chokutō—kept up the sleeves, in specialized harness
So? How was it? Please let me know, I love to read comments - they make me soooo happy! I feel pretty good about it. Also, my little head cannon is that Dazai learns different languages when he's bored, so he can understand a lot of them, same with his parents and Mori. Sounds like something he would do. Also, Akutagawa will soon be introduced, promise, but I kinda liked the idea that Gin and Atsushi already knew each other.
Translations (like usual, used Google Translate so I apologize if they suck)
- Je suppose que le grand patron est trop beau pour nous rencontres.: I guess the big boss is too good to meet with us.
- Calme-toi, Chuuya. Peu importe combien tu veux tuer cet homme, tu ne peux pas. Pas encore, au moins. Nous avons toujours besoin de leur aide.: Calm down, Chuuya. No matter how much you want to kill this man, you can't. Not yet, at least. We still need their help.
- Rappelez-vous pourquoi nous faisons cela.: Remember why we're doing this.
- Désolé, Maman. Tu as raison.: Sorry, Mom. You're right.
- C'est juste… ce connard pousse chacun de mes boutons. Sans effort! Ce n'est pas juste!: It's just… this asshole pushes every single one of my buttons. Effortlessly! It's not fair!
- Je comprend, ma chère. Mais rappelez-vous, c'est ce qu'ils font bien Vos réactions lui donnent tout ce dont il a besoin. Gardez juste votre esprit concentré sur la tâche à accomplir, essayez d'ignorer ses mots.: I understand, dear. But remember, that is what they're good at. Your reactions are giving him everything he needs. Just keep your mind focused on the task at hand, try to ignore his words.
- Plus facile à dire qu'à faire, Maman.: Easier said than done, Mom.
- Mais j'essayerai. Je promets.: But I'll try. I promise.
- C'est tout ce que je vous demande, mon garçon.: That's all I ask of you, my boy.
- Un bavard, hein?: A sweet talker, huh?
- Cela pourrait être dangereux.: That could be dangerous.
- À peine.: Hardly.