Chapter Text
Dazai lay in bed in his shitty apartment Mori oh so kindly provided as he scrolled through his phone. They totally weren’t stalking their chibi on his social media. Suddenly, they felt a tickle in their throat. The bandaged mafioso bolted upwards and coughed into his hand. He noticed something soft resting on his tongue. As they spit it out on their hand, Dazai saw a large oval shaped petal. The petal was a deep red, however, as they picked it up, some of the red came off on their fingers.
Dazai had become so desensitized to the metallic taste in his mouth that he hadn’t even noticed it was present once again. All the fights he had lead and joined had created his indifference to the thick dark liquid. This time though, he knew exactly what was happening to him. It wasn’t the result of a battle or brawl, but that of his regrettable unrequited love for a certain hat loving, wine drinking, murderous teenager. One that they just so happened to share this run-down apartment with. As they stared down at the offensive item and wiped away more of the blood, they realized the color was not that of a deep red, but a vibrant orange. The petal, though irritating, was truly beautiful. It had small specks of black at the base, and somehow didn’t seem to be damaged at all by the rough trip up Dazai’s throat. After seeing it’s true color, Dazai knew exactly which flower it had belonged to. Dazai had forced Chuuya to take a flower meanings class with him as they both thought it would be funny to send flowers to people they hated with secret meanings most wouldn’t understand.
A fucking Tiger Lilly.
Dazai knew they were prideful and full of spite and disdain. Having it spelled out in front of him in the form of a goddamned flower somehow felt to him like a personal attack. They knew all too well that these things were stopping him from telling Chuuya his true feelings. They didn’t need a flower trying to be their fucking therapist.
Despite this, they knew that there was no way in hell that they would tell the hat rack about the issue plaguing them.
•✾•✾•✾•✾•
Chuuya had just returned from a minor mission that had only required his talents and not that of the infamous double black. He was utterly exhausted and let out a very telling sigh as he stepped through the apartment door. Surprisingly, there was no teasing taunt from his bandaged partner. Actually, as Chuuya scanned the apartment, he didn’t see Dazai anywhere.
The mafioso approached Dazai’s bedroom and knocked. When no reply came, he called out, “Oy, Shitty Mackerel! You in there? I’m coming in.” He pushed open the door and found the teen passed out on the floor.
Chuuya simply sighed and scooped them into his arms. At first glance, you wouldn’t expect Chuuya to be able to so easily pick Dazai up, but despite Dazai’s height, he weighed practically nothing. He was bad at taking care of himself and often forgot to eat even with Chuuya pestering him about it. He placed Dazai down on their bed, covered them with a blanket, and went to get ready for bed himself.
As Chuuya brushed his teeth, he felt the sudden urge to cough. Thinking nothing of it, he did so, but when he felt something other than his tongue in his mouth, he knew something was off. He spat whatever it was into the sink and was shocked to see the deep red of blood coloring the sink along with a small pointed oval item.
As dread filled Chuuya’s body he picked it up and ran the water. The blood washed away and the petal’s true color was revealed. Of course Chuuya’s flower would be one that doesn’t even truly exist. The flower in question was that of a Black Dahlia.
Commitment, loyalty, betrayal.
The deep red of the flower stared into his soul as if it was trying to pull more of that same color out of him. Chuuya crushed the petal in his hand out of frustration and annoyance. The petal was discarded into the trash as Chuuya continued getting ready for bed. He stripped out of his work clothes and threw on an oversized t-shirt. He flicked off the lights and quite literally collapsed on his bed. He stared at the ceiling and tried his best not to think about the cause for his newfound condition that was sound asleep in the room across the hall.
He got exactly ten minutes of sleep that night.