Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

“Split up and search the building,” said Chuuya, sending off a quick message to Mori. 

They were raiding a warehouse near Saitama. It was a little further north than they usually dealt but a new group was trying to infringe on their jewel trade. Chuuya had been sent to deal with it but he was only allowed to take about a dozen men with him. And Dazai wasn’t here, off planning a new strategy to get more of western Yokohama under their jurisdiction. Plus they had almost no information on this new group.

So Chuuya was raiding this base, far from headquarters, with very few men, and practically going in blind. 

It was shaping up to be a great mission. 

Chuuya started walking between shipping crates, looking for the counterfeit jewels. They were all searching the building for evidence and to preferably get some of their goods back. That way Chuuya would be allowed to burn the place down. 

Maybe if Dazai were here he would have known about the trap. As it stood, Chuuya didn’t know what was about to happen. 

About two minutes later there was a prick at the back of his neck and then everything turned to black. 

*******

When Chuuya woke up, the first thing he acknowledged was pain. 

It was mainly coming from his leg, the appendage feeling like it had been mauled by a bear. The rest of his body was aching and sore.

He groaned and tried to sit up. All he managed to do was open his eyes a little. His limbs weren’t responding to his command and it felt like his brain was made of cotton. 

What happened?

Through the small slit in his eyes he looked up to see crisscrossing metal bars and a dark ceiling. Light was filtering in from somewhere, casting hazy shadows that just made Chuuya’s vision double. 

I think I’m in trouble.

After what felt like an eternity of trying to move his lead-like limbs, Chuuya was able to half sit up. 

Until his head banged on the bars.

They were a lot lower than he had initially realized. Chuuya curled on his side, trying to rub away the pain of the impact. From that angle, he caught sight of his leg. 

That is why it hurts so much.

His entire left foot, up to mid calf, was locked in a bear trap. The metal teeth dug into his skin and leaked blood over the ground. The muscle itself was mutilated beyond repair. If Chuuya hadn’t been completely desensitized to gore he probably would have thrown up. 

As it was, he looked away and pushed back the wave of disness. 

I am in deep shit. 

Just as he realized he should be trying to find a way out of his predicament, a door creaked open and someone came into view. It was a tall man with slicked back hair and a blank expression. 

“I just want you to know this will all be easier if you don’t resist,” he said, voice as bland as his face. “Our objective is to gain a new weapon. If you don’t resist, this will go a lot smoother.”

“Kiss my ass,” said Chuuya, articulating his words carefully. “I don’t deal well with the word weapon.”

“What’s the difference between us and the mafia?” asked the man. “Weapon for us or a weapon for them?”

“I’m not a weapon,” he snapped. “Get the fuck out of my face.”

There was a flash and Chuuya flinched back. The man brought a whip down hard on the metal cage, causing a loud crashing noise. It cut through the fog in Chuuya’s head leaving behind a wave of pain. The drug in his system seemed to amplify the sound and the pain. 

“You will not speak to me like that. My superior will be in later to deal with you. Sit tight.”

The man turned and slammed the door behind him. 

Chuuya let out a breath, shoulders shaking. He was really starting to think that he was very very screwed. 

********

Before “his superior” came in, Chuuya found how the drug was being put into his system. He was hooked up to an IV that was sitting outside of his metal cage that seemed to be continuously pumping it into his system. He tried to yank it out but found that he couldn’t move his fingers. He attempted to use Corruption but it remained just outside of his fogged brain. 

He was also able to sit up in a sort of hunched over position facing the door. It felt a little bit better to not be lying helpless in front of his attacker. 

The door slid open again and a lady stepped through. She came to stand ten paces in front of Chuuya. She had her own whip, hanging from her side and her face wasn’t quite as blank as the man from before. She actually looked amused. It sent shivers down Chuuya’s spine.

“Hello, my name is Monica,” she said. “How do you do?”

She was very plainly not Japanese from her name to her hair color. Did that mean they took him somewhere else? Was he in another country now? Would that make it harder for Dazai to find him?

“Listen lady-” snapped Chuuya. 

The whip at her side cracked against the metal bars and Chuuya flinched. The sound seemed to shake the whole cage he was in and the headache that had just dulled came back full force. Chuuya bit back a groan. 

“If you won’t call me Monica you will call me Miss. Do you understand?”

“I don’t think you-”

Crack. 

“Call me Miss.”

“Yes yes okay Miss. Jesus you don’t need to be so fucking-”

Crack.

Chuuya brought his hands up to clutch his head, trying to sooth away the tension. In the process, his leg jostled and he had to bite back a scream. He felt like he was losing his grip on everything between the pain and the drugs and the noise.

“What the fuck is it-”

Clang.

“You will not swear either.”

Chuuya glared at her through the bars. The smile seemed frozen to her face. 

“Is my language too vulgar for you?” he spat. 

“I am just trying to train you into some better habits,” she said sweetly. 

“Well I thought I was going to be a fucking-”

Clang.

“Weapon. What happened to that?” He tried to swallow back the pain and not let it show on his face. Dazai had always been better at that. 

“We can get started on that conditioning too. I didn’t realize you were so eager to get into this.”

“I’m no-”

Clang. 

Chuuya doubled over and scrubbed at his scalp. This was pathetic. She didn’t even have to touch him. He shakily straightened back up and tried to get his eyes to focus on her.

“What did I do this time?”

“You interrupted me.”

“No I fuck-”

Clang.

His mind was getting foggier and foggier. Had she hit it harder that time?

“Now, moving on. I want you to activate your ability.” Monic didn’t move throughout this entire exchange. She kept her spine straight and her feet together and didn’t so much as twitch unless she was striking the cage with that goddamn whip. 

“I can’t,” he snarled. 

“Can’t or won’t?”

If he could he would be long gone by now and she had to know that. If he had any control over his ability this whole place would have been destroyed and buried a long time ago. 

“I can’t,” he bit out. “Because of all that fucking-”

Clang.

“D-drug you have pumping through my system.” He cursed the shake in his voice. 

“I think,” she said. “That you are just being difficult. I think you can activate your ability, you just won’t.”

“No lady-”

Clang

Chuuya doubled over again as a wave of nausea hit him. Not even his worst migraines could compare to this. He wasn’t able to straighten his back this time and look her in the eye, no matter how much he wanted to. 

“What was that?”

“No Miss. I can’t do it.”

Clang.

“Won’t. You mean won’t. You are just being stubborn right now.”

“Can’t.”

Clang.

“You won’t do it.”

He opened his mouth to bite back another reply but all that fell out was senseless jumbling. It felt like his head was made of wires and they were all disconnected and jumbled. Nothing would make sense besides the pulsing pain. 

“I think that’s enough for today.”

Chuuya tried to tilt his head up. All he could make out were Monica’s shoes. They still hadn’t moved. 

“This is going to be how our little sessions go until you learn to behave and I am certain you will be useful to us.” The whip swung mockingly down by her side. “Do I make myself clear?”

“G-go fuck yourself,” slurred Chuuya. 

He braced himself from the noise but that didn’t make it any better. He didn’t even realize that Monica had left until a while after she had really gone, when the world came back into focus. 

********

At sporadic intervals Monica would hold the sessions again and again. He was never able to guess when she would do these sessions. Sometimes he would wait what felt like an eternity and sometimes it felt like only ten minutes. 

He also fell asleep randomly and he couldn’t track time while asleep. It could have been a day or a year since he wound up in this room and he wouldn’t know. They didn’t bring him any food to help track time so the IV must have something in it to keep it alive. It was agitating not knowing the time or the date or when the next torment would happen. 

Chuuya knew about this sort of conditioning, Dazai had played more complicated mental games than this. He knew all he had to do was wait it out until Dazai came to get him. They had to be getting close in their search for him. It couldn’t be long now.

Or at least that's what he told himself as limbs refused to cooperate and his brain stayed perpetually foggy. That’s what he told himself every time Monica came back. 

He was able to fight her for a while. Eventually, Chuuya gave up swearing in front of her. He didn’t need to flinch every time he swore for the rest of his life so might as well do without it for now. Chuuya took great pleasure in swearing to himself in the dark when she had gone for the day. 

And he stopped referring to her all together. No reason for him to feel like throwing up because she wanted him to call her miss.

But he still wouldn’t activate Tainted for her and he refused to say that it was because he wouldn’t. He wasn’t giving in to all this that easily. 

“I think I have figured out why you won’t admit your mistake,” Monica said breezily during their next session. “It’s because you still think someone is coming for you.”

“‘Course the mafia is coming for me,” he said. Chuuya learned that if he didn’t respond to her then she would beat the bars of the cage until he reacted or the pain made him pass out. He hadn’t screamed yet which he was mildly proud of.

“No they aren’t,” she insisted. “If they were, they would be here by now.”

“They are coming.”

Clang.

“If they were coming for you then they would have done it by now.”

“They aren’t leaving me here,” he insisted.

Clang. 

“They have left you here. They have given up on you and it is better if you work with me. Say it. No one will find you. No one is coming for you.”

Chuuya shook his head slightly and pressed his hands to his ears. 

It didn’t help against the deafening clang of the whip. 

She tried to get him to cooperate for another few hours before retiring. 

That night Chuuya doubled his efforts of trying to get out. Whenever she left him alone he tried to dedicate some time to getting out of this prison. He tried to use Tainted again and again but got nothing through the brain fog. He tried to bust the lock on this fucking cage but got nowhere. He couldn’t even manage to unclamp the goddamn bear trap from his leg without passing out and waking up in a fresh pool of his own blood. Would she let him bleed out in here? What if it got infected? 

Chuuya tried to ask her one time: whether she would let him bleed out. All of his questions to her during these sessions got ignored. 

********

A few sessions after that, Chuuya woke up from an uneasy sleep to find the bear trap gone. His leg hadn’t been bandaged and was still bleeding but at least it wasn’t actively being torn apart. 

The other change was that his hands had been bound tightly behind him. 

Neither of these things were really a big problem but it just made him more worried for what was to come. 

The door swung open with a crash. 

“Since the treatment hasn’t been effective,” said Monica in her still very cheerful, very annoying voice. “I will be attempting a more direct approach.”

Thanks for the fucking warning thought Chuuya. 

She took a key out of her pocket and slid it into the lock on the cage. A small door swung open. Without another word, Monica grabbed Chuuya by the collar of his shirt and dragged him out. 

This shocked Chuuya more than he was willing to admit. Either she was hella strong or he had gotten significantly thinner than he thought while locked in this cage. It was going to be a pain to build his muscle back out when he got back to the mafia. When they got him out. 

(If they?)

The movement jostled Chuuya’s leg and he bit back a scream. Stupid tears welled up in his eyes and he blinked them back. Monica stood in her perfectly straight posture behind Chuuya, whip still dangling at her side.

“Now, will you activate your ability for me?”

It took Chuuya a while to respond, trying to figure out what game she was playing. 

“Answer me.”

“I can’t,” said Chuuya. “You know tha-”

He was cut off by the crack of the whip and an intense burning sensation up his back. Chuuya gasped and clutched at his stomach. After a long minute he realized she had brought the whip down hard on his back. 

“Now will you do it?”

It would only be worse if he didn’t respond. But he couldn’t give her the satisfaction of thinking she beat him, even if Dazai would kill her when he showed up.

(If)

“I can’t.”

Crack.

Chuuya fell to his hands and knees that time, gasping for air. He was not going to last long at this rate. Mafioso’s were built to withstand torture but it had been what felt like an eternity without food and water and that drug was still pumping strong through his system. Monica had been very careful not to disconnect the wire when he was brought out. 

“Then can you at least admit that they are coming for you?”

“I don’t lie. They are coming.”

Crack. 

A quiet cry slipped through Chuuya’s lips. He would probably be more upset if he wasn’t in so much pain.

“No they aren’t. They would be here by now.”

“Dazai will get me.”

Crack. 

They went back and forth for what felt like a few hours. 

Sweat was dripping down Chuuya’s brow. He was slumped over his knees, unable to move from the pain. His lip was bleeding from the perpetual biting of it to keep his screams back. 

This is not how he would break. He would not give her the satisfaction of seeing him scream. Not when he had to maintain his dignity for when Dazai came. 

A thought crossed his mind and he acted on it immediately. When you were locked in a basement somewhere being tortured, any idea to get out of the situation wasn’t a bad idea. 

Before she could make another comment, Chuuya got his feet under him and stood.

Now, he knew that he wasn’t going to be able to stand, not in his condition. That wasn’t the point. 

He jerked up too fast for his muddled brain to process. The little blood that was left in his body dropped to his feet from his slightly crouched position. Blackness encroached his vision and Chuuya let it. Let it swallow him whole.

Maybe by the time he woke up, he would be at home in the mafia. 

********

No such luck.

When he woke up, Monica was still there. Her smile wasn’t even slightly strained. 

“Well that was quite a stunt you pulled,” she said. “Too bad your injuries aren’t bad enough to have a physician treat them.”

Chuuya noticed that they had, in fact, left his injuries alone. The only difference was that his hands were locked in front of him and attached to a loop in the floor. 

He could hear the whip cracking in Monica’s hands. 

“You aren’t getting that easy. Now let's try this again.”

********

The sessions only seemed to drag on longer and longer now. With every passing day his back got more and more torn up. Some of the lashing marks started scabbing over, only to be reopened again a short while later. 

Three sessions ago was one of their longest sessions yet. She had landed 18 strikes when Chuuya finally let loose a scream. The thought of it still filled him with shame. 

Chuuya still clung to the hope that Dazai would come for him. He was too valuable an asset to the mafia and too dangerous to be allowed to remain with another organization. They had to come get him soon. Less time had probably passed then he thought. 

This latest session, Monica had been focusing on trying to get him to think the mafia had abandoned him. She had gotten 10 lashes in and Chuuya kept spitting back remarks. 

“They will find me,” insisted Chuuya, bracing himself for the hit. 

It never came.

Chuuya opened his eyes to see Monica staring at him, Monica’s face no more than two feet away. 

“I need you to understand something,” she said softly. “Your friends abandoned you. It has been over four months since I took you in here. The mafia hasn’t found you or rescued you. They have launched no counter measures against us. You are on your own.”

Chuuya’s blood was like ice. 

Was that true? Has it been four months? It didn’t feel like four months. How much time will have passed when he gets home? If it had been four months then they should have found him by now. Dazai was a genius. Was what she was saying true? 

“Why would they even want a monster like you?”

Chuuya didn’t realize he was crying until he heard the light drops of water on the ground.

She had a point. There was no reason for them to want him at all. It made more sense that they didn’t come. The window had closed. 

As soon as Chuuya wasn’t useful to him anymore, they tossed him aside. He had outlived his usefulness. 

All of his worst fears came crashing down around him in that one crushing realization. Maybe it was the drugs, maybe it was the pain, maybe it was because Monica was actually telling the truth. Whatever the case, in that moment Chuuya wholeheartedly believed her. 

“N-No one can find me. No o-one is c-coming for me,” he whispered. As soon as he said them out loud they felt right. It was true. 

Monica nodded, smiling wider. Her touch on his cheek was almost gentle.

“Very good. I call that progress,” she murmured. She helped ease him back into his little metal prison before leaving him alone. It seems their torture was over for the day.

Chuuya would never tell anyone, but that night he cried. He let that night be the one time he would mourn his life in the mafia. Mourn his friends he would never see again. Friends who didn’t want him now, or never wanted him in the first place. He mourned it all, the betrayal twisting his insides into knots. 

No one is coming to get you. 

Chapter Text

After his admission, Monica went easier on him. She held shorter sessions and he didn’t actually get whipped again, even if she continued to drug him and bang on the cage walls. She saw his admission as a major victory. 

Of course he wasn’t giving up and staying here. No matter how betrayed he felt, there is no way he was just sitting here to be used as a weapon. Again. His realization just meant that he couldn’t just wait it out and he couldn’t go back to the mafia once he got out. He just needed a new plan.

At the moment he was buying time with Monica. Putting up a little bit of a fight but not much of one. Agreeing with her and letting her sickening smile grow wider and wider. It wasn’t particularly hard. Chuuya was very good at playing exactly what she wanted: the dumb broken monster. 

It turns out this was the right move because after a while Chuuya realized they had decreased his dosage of the drug. His brain was clearing slightly and he had more autonomy. To the point he was able to at least turn Tainted on for a few brief seconds with intense focus. 

He pushed aside all of the thoughts of the betrayal and hurt to focus on getting out of here. Playing the game with Monica, keeping himself from getting weaker, and testing the limits of how much he could use Corruption until the opportunity presented itself. 

“This was a very good session,” said Monica one day. Chuuya had barely put up a fight. “I think soon I’ll be able to bring you out into the field. We can finally get out of this basement.”

“Yes Miss,” said Chuuya.

She left with her self-satisfied grin and let the door click shut. 

Chuuya waited ten solid minutes, counting off every second, before yanking the IV out of his arm. He waited again for her to come running back in but she didn’t. Then he put his hands on the lock. 

When he was at full strength he would have been able to pick the lock with his ability. As it was, he would be lucky to break the lock off without damaging the cage door or making loud enough of a noise to send Monica running back over here. 

He pressed his hand hard into the lock and yanked Tainted up to the surface. The pressure in his head seemed to triple with the effort but he clung on.

“C’mon,” he whispered. “C’mon, c’mon you stupid fu-”

The lock snapped. 

Chuuya tore the damned thing off and set it on the ground. Then he shoved the door open. 

The bars had warped slightly when the lock broke but it was still functioning. The scraping sound of the twisted metal sent more sparks of pain across Chuuya’s vision but he shook them away. Chuuya dragged himself onto the floor of the room, feeling halfass hopeful for the first time in months. 

That was until he remembered he couldn’t walk. 

It had only been about a dozen sessions since she took the stupid bear trap off his leg. It was still leaking blood in some parts and twisted scabbing in others. It was also almost certainly infected after being locked in this dirty, dusty room. 

Plus his back was still aching from the whipping. That had been able to heal a little bit better than his leg but not by much.

Still now that he was out he needed to attempt to get out. Even if he had no idea what the facility past that door looked like or even what country he was in. Or what to do after this. 

It was fine.

He approached the door, staggering on his fucked up leg, and tried the handle. 

It wasn’t even locked. 

Chuuya pushed aside the wave of insult, and elected to just feel grateful he didn’t need to use Tainted. 

The door swung open into a poorly lit hallway, dull bulbs hanging at intervals from the ceiling. About ten feet to the left was what appeared to be a dead end. He looked to the right and couldn’t see the end. 

Chuuya started off down the hallway, limping heavily. Every time he stood on his bad foot he tried to use a little bit of Tainted to take the weight off. 

It was a dizzying process that could have taken five minutes or five years and he wouldn’t have known the difference. He didn’t encounter any people in the long trek which was probably the only blessing he had been offered. 

Finally, he reached a staircase at the end of the hallway. It was made of metal and only about a dozen steps. At the top was a large black door with a metal knob.

Chuuya deliberated for a long moment before he sucked in a deep breath. He called on Tainted again and launched himself up the stairs. 

He landed hard at the top landing, leg crumpling under him immediately. A strangled gasp of pain slipped past his lips and his leg felt like it was on fire. But he was at the top of the landing. 

I can’t believe that worked, he thought.

Without thinking about what he might find, Chuuya opened the door.

It was the inside of a simple port warehouse. Crates stacked up, 4 or 5 tall stamped with labels. Some people were milling around, driving the forklifts or marking off clipboards. 

Chuuya carefully slipped through the warehouse, avoiding the people and trying to keep his leg from dripping blood onto the floor. As long as no one saw him this would be fine. Just find the door and get it. Normally he would have tried to burn this place to the ground but there was no way he had the strength for something like that. 

There were a few close calls as he ducked behind crates. More than once he had to use Tainted to launch himself behind crates as people suddenly walked in between them.

With every passing minute, with every step, he found his vision fading. He was able to push the pain to the back of his mind but he was still incredibly weak. And getting weaker with each step.

But now he could see the set of big bay doors. There was a small workers’ entrance door next to it that was propped open. All he had to do was get out of that door.

Chuuya tried to walk faster, excitement and adrenaline making him sloppier in his pace. He was five paces from the door when someone walked in. 

Tainted yanked him back around the nearest crate and Chuuya could feel his heart galloping in his ears. The person had been checking a clipboard and Chuuya didn’t think he had ever been more thankful for anything. 

When the person walked away, Chuuya ducked out the cool night air. He sucked in a deep breath and stared out across the horizon. 

He recognized this dock. It was maybe a kilometer from the Port Mafia’s district of the shipping warehouses. If he squinted he could see the five Port Mafia towers in the distance. 

He was still home. 

Chuuya staggered a little further down the dock trying to put as much distance between him and that horrible basement as possible. 

He needed a plan now. The mafia had left him to die so he wasn’t about to go running back to them. But his apartment with Dazai had all of his clothes and extra weapons. And his hat from Rimbaud.

(The hat he was wearing had been lost in the scuffle with Monica. He never wore Rimbaud's hat on missions, just for sentimental reasons.)

Dazai probably wouldn’t even be there so Chuuya wouldn’t have to deal with him. He would just swing by, grab his stuff, bandage up his wounds, and then take off. He was practically an expert of finding someplace safe to spend the night after all his time with the Sheep so he would be fine.

But he couldn’t exactly walk back to the apartment given his leg. Plus his torn up mafia suit and being caked in blood was bound to draw attention. 

Chuuya hotwired the first car he came across and drove off, stuck between feeling relieved to get out and terrified for what was to come. 

********

Dazai was finally going home.

It had been at least a week since he had been back to the apartment he and Chuuya shared. Since the red-head went missing he had to put in genuine effort to return to the apartment to sleep. He found himself unable to spend any time there. He could feel Chuuya’s absence in every corner of the apartment and it got to the point he just didn’t bother to go home. 

Today Kouyou had sent him home to sleep. Saying something like how Dazai hadn’t slept in four days straight. As if that mattered when Chuuya was out there somewhere. Had been for three weeks. 

The group holding him captive had put in intense effort to keep him hidden. Dazai had searched Yokohama a dozen times over to the point he had started looking overseas. How could he just go missing?

Dazai fumbled with his keys in the lock. Chuuya was out there alone, probably being tortured, and what was Dazai doing? Sleeping? It was pathetic. 

He stepped past the threshold(had he actually unlocked the door?) and immediately ditched his coat and shoes. He walked around the corner heading toward his bedroom. 

That’s when he saw the light on under the bathroom door.

Had he left the light on a week ago when he was here last?

Then he saw the light under Chuuya’s bedroom door. 

Dazai froze stiff, muscles not even twitching. What did this mean? Why couldn’t he seem to think right?

The door to Chuuya’s bedroom swung open and Chuuya himself stepped out. 

Dazai couldn’t help the strangled sound that fell from his lips. Chuuya looked up and immediately went white as a sheet.

They stared at each other.

Chuuya looked like he had been hit by a bus and was trying to pretend that he didn’t. His hair was wet like he had just showered but he didn’t do it well because there were still smears of dirt and blood clinging to his skin. His body was covered in layers of clean clothes and a duffel bag was slung over his back. 

“Chuuya,” said Dazai, fighting the urge to just hug him. This situation was already weird enough without him acting even stranger. 

“D-Dazai,” he said, softly. He didn’t get angry or upset or even say anything else. He just stared at Dazai, seeming almost scared. 

“Where have you been?” asked Dazai. “Do we still need to go back and destroy the place? Where are you going? Are you hurt?”

Chuuya’s eyes went wide with surprise 

“I-I… I don’t…. What are you doing here?”

Dazai blinked. Chuuya didn’t answer any of the questions. “I-I am coming home to sleep. Kouyou sent me home after a week, saying I wouldn’t be useful to you if I was collapsing randomly.” He winced, remembering the meeting yesterday where he stood up too fast and went toppling backward. Kouyou’s quick movements were the only thing that saved him and his image.

“Why would you need to be of use to me?” asked Chuuya, brow furrowing further. 

“To find you and rescue you. Ob-obviously I don’t need to but just in case…”

“You were trying to find me?” Chuuya adjusted his grip on the duffel bag. 

“Of course chibi,” said Dazai like it was the most obvious thing in the world. “Ever since Mori told me you never came back from that mission I have been trying to find you.”

“No, you didn’t,” countered Chuuya. “You left me there for dead. The mafia left me there for dead.”

“I didn’t do that. Who said that I did that? I have spent nearly three weeks doing nothing but-”

“Three weeks?” Chuuya’s expression got more pained and confused. “What do you mean three weeks?”

“You have been missing for three weeks, Chuuya.” Dazai could hear the concern building in his voice. “What happened to you? What did they tell you?”

Dazai could see the cogs turning in Chuuya’s head and he knew what Chuuya was about to say was a lie. 

“Nothing,” said Chuuya finally. “Nothing happened. They didn’t tell me anything. Just routine torture that’s all.”

“W-why don’t we talk about it?” asked Dazai, gesturing back to the living room. “Unless you are going somewhere?” He looked down at Chuuya’s duffel bag.

Chuuya glanced at the duffel like he forgot he was holding it. He took a step backward and stumbled. His fingers scraped against the doorframe, catching his balance. Dazai saw a thin strip of white bandages, splotched with red, trailing out from the hem of his pants. 

“Are you hurt? Are you bleeding?” he asked, moving to get a closer look.

Somewhat frantically, Chuuya yanked his pant leg down. “No, no I’m not… I’m not hurt, don't worry. I just need to… I need to…”

He trailed off and took the bag off his shoulder, letting it hang by his side. 

“You all were really trying to find me?” he asks softly. “Even though I got caught?” The and showed weakness part went unsaid.

“That was a hella powerful organization.” Dazai laughed airily. “They will be telling stories about how strong you are, able to escape an organization like that alone with just your wits and your ability.

“But you all, actually wanted to find me? Like you aren’t fucking with me right now?”

“Call Kouyou,” said Dazai. “She has been in a panic these past three weeks. Even Mori wasn’t able to slip away from her wrath. She will tell you how hard we were looking. And she probably really wants to hear from you.”

Dazai pulled his phone from his pocket and offered it to Chuuya. The red-head took it gingerly before retreating back to his bedroom, limping on the leg wrapped in bandages. 

“Are you sure you are okay?” asked Dazai. Chuuya glanced back at him, a pained smile on his lips. 

“I’m fine. “

Chapter Text

He was in fact, not fine. 

Dazai knew this of course but it just became more apparent as the days dragged on. 

He opted not to tell Mori that Chuuya had returned until the following evening, giving Chuuya some time to recover. He had been hoping that Chuuya would also tell him the full story but Chuuya stayed in his room the whole night. 

The only thing Mori requested was the report on what happened while he was in custody and what he learned. Chuuya filled out the report and handed it over to Mori without any extra notes on the matter. After he got his paperwork, Mori seemed satisfied and willing to forget the whole thing happened. 

(Maybe because he didn’t want to admit that he had lost a super weapon for three weeks and couldn’t even manage to get it back.)

Chuuya also seemed content not talking about it again. Every attempt Dazai made to ask him, Dazai got silence or told to leave him alone. But that didn’t mean it wasn’t affecting Chuuya.

After the incident, Chuuya wore a lot more layers. Suit jackets, shirts, coats, anything he could while still being able to fight and looking semi natural. He used to be proud of his muscular form, showing it off. Now he wouldn’t leave his room without wearing at least two layers. 

He also took to wearing a thick black choker with a silver buckle. It conveniently covered up the tattoo Dazai knew was permanently marked into his neck. The tattoo that read A5158, claiming him as a government experiment. 

Or maybe that was just a coincidence. 

Chuuya also tried so much harder on missions. He had always put in excessive amounts of effort into his work but now he got far more upset when they didn’t work out right. He spent long nights locking himself in his room and beating himself up about them. When a traditional recon mission got cut short Chuuya was nearly in tears. He had always been a perfectionist but now it bordered on panic. 

He also talked quite a bit less. Didn’t take to Dazai’s baiting for banter and let Dazai take control of their subordinates. He had always been very insistent about handling their subordinates, not liking how apathetic Dazai acted around them. Now he just kept his head down. Anytime Dazai tried to talk to him about it, Chuuya would just shrug and wander away.

The only other way Dazai could think to communicate with Chuuya was to touch him. Shove him around like the red-head would often do to him. Snatch away his hat, trip him up, poke and prod at him. It was just another way to say I’m here, I’m here, I’m here. 

But Chuuya was completely closed off. 

“What exactly happened?” hissed Kouyou. 

After an executive meeting she had yanked Dazai aside, down an unused hallway. He figured that she would end up talking to him at one point but he was still startled. Her tone was cutting but it was with worry not anger which was normally what Dazai got from her. The only common ground he and Kouyou had was Chuuya.

“While he was with them, what happened?”

“I don’t know,” said Dazai, his frustration leaking into his voice. “He won’t tell me anything. But something definitely happened.”

For once, Kouyou didn’t call him a liar. She just huffed and straightened her kimono. Her hands were locked in a death-grip around her umbrella. 

“I know that much you silly boy,” she huffed. “I just don’t know what. Has Mori let you see the report the young lad drafted up?”

“No but to be fair I haven’t asked.” It hadn’t occurred to Dazai before to check the file. He sort of assumed that Chuuya wouldn’t have been honest. But it was worth a shot. “I’ll ask Mori about it. Has he not let you see it?”

“No.” Kouyou’s voice was venomous. “He said ‘it wouldn’t be within the best interest of the mafia.’ I don’t think even he believes half the bullshit he is spouting these days. Tell me immediately if you find anything.”

Dazai nodded and she walked off, head held high and firm. Her kimono swished around her and there was nothing but confidence in her gait. 

She was almost as good at masking as Dazai was. 

********

That night, Dazai went to Mori. He waited around until most of the executives had gone home for the night, decreasing their odds of being interrupted. He approached the large wooden doors of the boss's office.

“Mori~” he exclaimed, throwing open the doors without warning. “I need a favor.”

Mori looked up from his desk and glared at Dazai. Elise glanced up from her crayon drawing at the table and waved warmly to Dazai. 

“What is it now my dear prodigy?” asked Mori. 

“I want to see the report Chuuya filed on his time away.”

Mori sighed. “Why don’t you ask your partner what happened.”

“I have top clearance,” Dazai reminded him. “You can’t keep files from me without probable cause.”

“My cause is there is no reason to remove important documentation from filing to gain information you already have access to.”

“And you think it will cause trouble?”

“It is a delicate situation-” 

“That we can surely figure out if you give me all the information.”

Mori stared at Dazai, rubbing at his temples. 

“You aren’t going to like what you find.”

Dazai snorted. “Since when has that ever mattered?”

There was a long moment of silence before Mori pulled open one of his desk drawers. He set a file on the edge of his desk and Dazai scooped it up greedily. Dazai thumbed through the file and found it particularly sparse. 

There was a listed location and estimated size of operations for the facility. There was a lot of detailing about all the people that he saw or interacted with. 

The part that made him stop was motives. 

In Chuuya’s neat “mission report” handwriting it read:

I do not know the motives of the group as a whole. I know the reason that I was selected was because they needed a weapon of destruction. To them there was no difference for me in either serving the mafia or serving them. They were willing to do anything to gain this weapon. 

It was a fairly emotionless report but there was so much to take from that. Especially considering his behavior as of late. He was tortured, most definitely, but if they wanted to turn him into a weapon….

Dazai closed up the folder and set it back on the desk. 

“Do you know everything you need to know?” asked Mori, sounding exhausted. 

“Yes sir.”

“I’ll start organizing the groups.” 

“Sir?”

Mori looked him dead in the eye and smiled crookedly. “I am not naive enough to think that the Demon Prodigy and the Golden Demon are just going to let something like this go. Once you get the rest of the story out of him, I expect we will be launching an attack against the organization.”

He wasn’t exactly wrong. 

“I guess you are right,” said Dazai flippantly before leaving the office. 

No one hurt Chuuya and got away with it. Especially not now that Dazai had a better grasp of the situation.

********

Chuuya had gone home from work early. He had been running drills with his subordinates but the exhaustion that had been weighing on his shoulders was nearly crushing. He sent them all home early and decided to head home.

What he really wanted to do was take a nap but that had never been something that Chuuya did and he found himself unable to start now. So he sat on the couch, trying to read a book but really just staring out the window. He probably had a sort of blank look on his face and he hoped it passed for deep thought, not the panicking feelings that were overtaking his thoughts. 

He figured that Dazai would come home and try to talk to him some more. Chuuya wouldn’t know what to say so he would just shrug Dazai off until the brunette gave up. 

What he was not expecting was for Dazai to storm in, door groaning on his hinges. He didn’t bother to take off his shoes or his coat. Dazai sat down on the couch next to Chuuya and took one of Chuuya’s hands in his ice cold ones. 

“Chuuya,” he said, voice low. “I need you to tell me what happened. Now.” There was no question in his voice, just a command. 

“I…” Chuuya trailed off. Dazai wasn’t normally this intense when he asked about what happened. 

“I saw the file you wrote,” said Dazai. Chuuya blanched. 

“You saw?”

Dazai nodded in a way he hoped was more comforting than not. “I must say it wasn’t quite as comprehensive as most of your other reports. A lot of details were left out. Like what happened to your leg?”

That night Chuuya didn’t let Dazai look at his injury. The persistent limp hadn’t gone away in the week that Chuuya had been home but he still refused to let anyone see. 

“Please Chuuya,” implored Dazai. “Tell me what happened.” He squeezed Chuuya’s hand and tugged him gently. Chuuya slid forward and leaned against Dazai, burning his face in Dazai’s chest. 

“I was running the mission,” started Chuuya. “Something happened and I blacked out. I woke up in this metal… cage I guess. My leg was locked in a bear trap…”

“That’s what happened to your leg?” asked Dazai. 

Chuuya pulled his pant leg up and started unwinding some of the bandages. It revealed deep gashes that were trying to scar over. Some of the scabs had torn and were leaking blood, marring the white bandages. 

“Oh Chuuya…”

“A-And then this man came in. He told me they were going to turn me into a weapon. He started banging on the cage with this whip he had. They had me hooked up to this IV and I couldn’t think or move properly. The banging felt like he was splitting my head open. My fingers wouldn’t work and I could hardly move, much less use Tainted. It was so foggy…”

“That’s awful,” murmured Dazai, running a hand through Chuuya’s hair. 

“And then later his superior came in. She tried to do that… conditioning thing you always did. It hurt so bad. She wanted me to have these fucking manners and to use Tainted and to believe that you had left me. When the migraines didn’t break me she started whipping m-me.” He swallowed back the lump in his throat and tried to steady his voice. Dazai didn’t say anything. “Then she told me 4 months had passed and you all weren’t coming for me. Didn’t even try to find me because I f-failed you and I am a monster”

“But we were looking for you,” said Dazai. “We were and it was only three weeks. I was so pissed how stumped I was that I couldn’t find you.”

“I-I think I understand now.”

“But you are still worried we will toss you out. That’s why you have been obsessing over your missions lately.”

Chuuya nodded weakly, hands tightening on Dazai’s shirt. 

“And then how did you get out?”

The red-head shrugged. “I started to believe her. Four months sounded like a long time and I figured the mafia was done with me. She went easier on me because I was ‘bending under her will’ and decreased the dosage of the drug so I could use Tainted for her. I didn’t want to stay so one day I used Tainted to break the lock on the cage and get out.”

“With your leg torn to pieces and your back slashed up? You were able to get out by yourself?”

“Obviously, since I’m here right now. I wasn’t able to destroy the place though. I snuck out like a coward.”

“But you got out.” Dazai rubbed his thumb across Chuuya’s hand. “On your own before I could find you. Which is pretty damn impressive.”

“I still feel like shit,” muttered Chuuya. “I was still caught and I’m still weak. And inhuman.”

Unconsciously, Chuuya’s hand came up to touch the choker. 

“And it could still happen again. If they could do it once they could do it again.”

“Don’t worry, chibi,” soothed Dazai. “They won’t be around to worry you for much longer.”

Chuuya blinked and glanced up at Dazai. 

“What do you mean?”

Dazai looked down at Chuuya and smiled his Demon Prodigy grin. The one that unsettled so many but it didn’t unsettle Chuuya. 

“You didn’t honestly think they would get away with something like this did you?”

Chapter Text

“What are you going to do, Dazai?” asked Chuuya. The fear and helplessness in his expression was replaced with growing suspicion. He spent way too much time with Dazai to think that this would end well.

Dazai dropped the Demon Prodigy grin and replaced it with a more playful expression.

“Nothing!” he said brightly. “What gave you the impression I would do anything?”

“What you just said-”

“Chibi is hearing things.”

“No Dazai. I’m not.” His hackles were rising and Dazai could see him trying to figure out what Dazai’s plan was. 

Dazai sighed. “I didn’t want to get you all worked up like this chibi! Stress is bad for dogs. You should go get some sleep.”

“But…” Chuuya trailed off. If Chuuya felt as tired as he looked then there is no way he would refuse. “Yeah okay. Just tell me the plan in the morning would you?”

The brunette nodded. “Of course chibi!”

They stood up together and Dazai helped Chuuya get his things ready to shower. Once the water was running, Dazai went and picked things up around the apartment. If Chuuya saw something out of place then he would go put it away, prompting him to find another thing and put it away and so on and so forth until he was wandering around the apartment for an hour instead of being asleep. 

Chuuya stepped out of the bathroom, still drying his hair. Dazai tugged the red-head into his bedroom. 

“You are such a slob Chuuya,” commented Dazai, noting how there were no dirty clothes or empty dishes lying around the room. Chuuya gave him a dirty look. 

“Ha, ha.”

He hung the towel up on a peg before grabbing his hairbrush. Dazai snatched it from his hands and shoved Chuuya onto the bed. 

“Let me. Everyone knows dogs shouldn’t be allowed to brush their own hair.” 

Chuuya bit out a complaint about Dazai being too pushy today and that he wasn’t a damn dog. All the complaints died on his lips when Dazai started brushing his hair. 

Dazai was very careful with the damn strands, making sure to not tug at Chuuya’s scalp. It was a little arduous given all the knots that had been likely building up for a while. 

Once he finished, Chuuya was nearly half asleep. So everything was going according to plan. Dazai tucked Chuuya under the red-head’s big comforter before closing the door quietly. 

Then he got to work.

Yes he was going to involve Chuuya in the plan eventually. The red-head deserved a little bit of retribution for all the shit those bitches put him through. But if Dazai started planning with Chuuya around, the red-head would have stayed up with him all night planning. Dazai couldn’t allow that; Chuuya needed his sleep. 

With Chuuya snug in bed, Dazai snatched up Chuuya’s computer and buried himself in a nest of blankets on the couch. He grabbed his phone and started making phone calls. He opened up a notes app on Chuuya’s computer and used it to record the results of these phone calls. Dazai was good at organizing information in his head but sometimes it came together better written out. He just needed to figure out a plan to wipe this entire organization off the map. And maybe snatch up the women who tortured Chuuya for his own little bit of petty vengeance. 

First, Dazai called Kouyou. He updated her on everything that he had learned about what had happened over those long three weeks. Chuuya knew that he was too much of a coward to get on Kouyou’s bad side so, in turn, Chuuya also knew that Dazai would tell Kouyou everything. As soon as he finished, Kouyou insisted that she come over to see Chuuya to next morning as well as get a professional to tend to his injuries. Dazai agreed and then dove into her part of his attack plan.

After he sorted everything out with Kouyou he phoned Hirotsu and the other Black Lizard leaders. They gave him the numbers of their squads that would be available and he told them where to be and when. They all sounded groggy, as if they had just woken up, but none of them dared complain to the Demon Prodigy. 

He also phoned Akutagawa and the new girl, Higuchi. They were both willing to assist which would be good. No matter how much Dazai refused to admit it, Akutagawa’s ability was quite strong and could be useful.

This entire time, sleep wasn’t even a thought in Dazai’s head. He hadn’t checked a clock in what felt like years and his eyes were perpetually burning. But for some reason he sort of assumed it was still midnight, when he asked Chuuya to sleep. 

That’s why when Chuuya came out of his bedroom, Dazai nearly lept out of his skin. 

“Dazai?”

“Chibi!” screamed Dazai. He tried to smile and pretend he meant to talk at that volume. “What a pleasant surprise! What are you doing up at this hour?”

“It’s seven in the morning,” said Chuuya slowly. “I’m always up at this hour. What are you still doing up?”

“Just arranging some things,” said Dazai nonchalantly. “You want in on the action?”

For the first time in weeks, Dazai saw that familiar spark in Chuuya’s eye. A smile tugged at the corner of Chuuya’s mouth. 

“Of course. I hope you weren’t planning on blowing things to hell without me.”

Dazai patted the seat of the couch next to him and Chuuya plopped down. His gaze immediately went to the notes document Dazai had open. Dazai had other concerns

The brunette tucked an edge of one of the blankets around Chuuya’s shoulder so they were both under it. 

Most teenagers ended up curled up on a couch with blankets because they were playing video games. Dazai opened the notes he had taken on how to dismantle an enemy organization. 

“So it looks like the base that we know of,” he started. “Is the head of the snake. If we manage to take it out the organization won’t die but they will lose their major weapons depot and will be increasingly easier to take out. I have already coordinated with Kouyou and she said her assassin’s would be able to take out the heads of the remaining branches. Speaking of Ane-san.” 

Dazai shot off a quick text to Kouyou. He returned to the document before Chuuya couldn’t question it. 

“Now to do this we will need extreme man power. Those warehouses on the dock are all but indestructible to anyone who isn’t the Port Mafia. Hirotsu sent me lists of the numbers of men in each squadron. We should be able to swing it but we will need your ability.”

“With pleasure,” said Chuuya with a grin. 

Something warm fluttered in Dazai’s chest when he realized Chuuya was almost back. Maybe it was talking about what had happened. Maybe it was the fact that Dazai himself was behaving normally, not walking on eggshells around Chuuya. Maybe it was both. Whatever the case, Chuuya looked ready to blow some shit up. 

A light knock came at the door and it swung open. Kouyou’s imposing figure filled the doorway for a few minutes as she looked around the room. She examined Dazai and Chuuya carefully. 

“Hello Dazai,” she said cooly. “And good morning Chuuya. It’s good to see you back.”

So she had noticed the slight change in Chuuya too.

“Well I have a brain and reasonable ability,” he said with a smirk. “I might as well find something useful to do instead of just laying around.”

Kouyou nodded approvingly. Kouyou moved to sit down on the couch next to Chuuya but wrinkled her nose at the stuffing leaking out of the side and a suspicious stain. 

“C’mon Ane-san,” said Dazai. “I know this isn't usually your scene but we are plotting.”

“And we need adult supervision,” added Chuuya.

Kouyou snorted and finally took a seat beside him. 

“Did you call everybody?” asked Kouyou as her eyes flicked over the computer screen. 

“Yup.” Dazai counted off on his fingers. ‘You, Hirotsu, Mori, Colonel, Akutagawa, and those two up-and coming Black Lizard members. They all are bringing in their crews of people.”

Chuuya let out a low whistle. “That’s a lot of people.”

“I think you underestimate how many people know you in the mafia,” said Dazai, clicking away at the computer keys. “And how many of those people respect you as a leader and a mafioso. Strength likes strength. Plus your compassion definitely helps you score points. If you call, people will come.”

“But I didn’t call.”

“No I did. I told them that somebody tried to hurt you and everybody was up in arms. All it took was a few words.”

“It’s true lad,” said Kouyou. She reached over Dazai’s shoulder to click on a few of the computer keys. “You have made quite the impression. The mafia values loyalty, something you have to spare. You’ve been adopted into the fold now.”

Dazai glanced over to see the anticipated smile, gracing Chuuya’s lips. He belonged somewhere. There were people who would fight those who dare even attempt to harm him. 

“Alright.” Chuuya grinned and fidgeted with the end of the blanket. “Let’s go over the plan one more time. 

********

Once they began, the plan worked perfectly. 

Dazai, Chuuya, and Kouyou waited atop a building a little ways from the warehouse. They stood in relative silence, watching the scen unfold below them. Bullets pinged off walls as the two sides engaged eachotther. 

“Alright Chuuya,” said Dazai about 20 minutes into the fight. “You’re time to fight. We will meet you inside at the rendezvous point.”

Chuuya looked at the building, apprehension building in his expression. He used his anger to push it away. 

“Got it. See you then.”

And then he dove into the fray. 

The organization never stood a chance.

Chuuya never slipped into Corruption but he got pretty damn close. Dazai could see the red light enveloping him and anything that got within ten feet of him was evaporated or crushed immediately. Chuuya had turned into a whirlwind of destruction in a matter of minutes. 

But, because he was Chuuya, he never got too close to any of their men and never put any of them in danger. Whoever said Chuuya was dumb obviously didn’t have eyes. Every move was thought about and executed with strength and skill.

Dazai didn’t realize he was gaping until Kouyou nudged him. 

“Move along Prodigy, we are meant to meet him down there remember?”

Dazai shook his head to clear his thoughts before nodding. 

“Of course Kouyou-san. Now please don’t let me die!”

Golden Demon was meant to escort Dazai into the depths of the facility given that Dazai didn’t have a combat ability of his own or Chuuya’s to protect him. 

Kouyou cut a path through the fighting, following in Chuuya’s wake. She wasted no time cutting down their enemies with deadly precision. If he paid close enough attention, Dazai could feel the rage practically sizzling off of her. Each strike was retribution for what they had done. 

They finally met against the far wall of the facility. Chuuya was leaning against the wall, Tainted still flickering around him. He raised a hand in greeting. 

Tainted eventually slowed and flickered out, leaving Chuuya looking normal if slightly breathless. Once he had somewhat caught his breath he gestured to a door embedded into the wall.

“This is the door,” he said. “Down. I’m not sure what else is down there. Didn’t get a chance to look.”

“With luck we will find a very unfortunate lady who I am itching to have a conversation with.” Dazai tried not to sound too excited.

Golden Demon sliced the door off its hinges and the three of them started down the stairs. They got a good little way down the hallway until Dazai realized that Chuuya was trembling. The red-heads' eyes raked along the walls and floor, no doubt experiencing some kind of flashback. All the confidence he had gained from using Tainted slipped away in a heartbeat. Dazai reached out and grabbed Chuuya’s hand.

Chuuya looked at him with a strange look and Dazai smiled his obnoxiously bright smile. Then he yanked the red-head down the hallway.

“Faster Chuuya! We’ll never get through this if you don’t stop walking like an old man!”

Chuuya stumbled and nearly face planted in an attempt to keep up. “What the fuck asshole! What do you think you’re doing?”

Dazai didn’t respond, just stopped in front of the first door. It was plain white, made of wood, with a brass knob. Dazai threw the door open with a bang. 

Nothing. Storage crates covered in dust with old labels. 

Dazai sighed heavily and his shoulders dropped. “Well that was anticlimactic,” he said dully. Chuuya rolled his eyes. 

“Overdramatic prick,” he muttered. But better him focus on Dazai than on the bad memories from this place.

Dazai dragged Chuuya on opening door after door. Kouyou glided down the hall after them, shaking her head. 

The further and further they got down the hallway the more tense Chuuya got. He tried to play it off but it was evident in the set of his shoulders and the seriousness of his expression. Kouyou ended up following a lot closer behind the pair. They all ended up slowing down some though they kept going.

“This is where I was,” said Chuuya quietly, as they approached a door. It was almost at the end of the hallway. 

“You got from here all the way to the door after your leg had been torn to shreds?” asked Dazai, not bothering to keep the awe out of his voice. Chuuya nodded.

Kouyou’s eyes narrowed. 

“I’m willing to bet our coward is hiding here,” she snapped. In a flash that neither Dazai or Chuuya could see, Golden Demon slashed the hinges of the door. It fell into the room with a giant crash. 

 “Don’t come any closer!” 

The scream came as soon as the door blew inward. When the dust settled the trio saw the woman, Monica, standing with her back pressed against the metal cage. She was holding a gun, aiming it level with Chuuya’s head.

“That doesn't work on me anymore,” snarled Chuuya. Tainted’s red color washed over him and the ground cracked. Being able to use his ability around her seemed to comfort him somewhat. 

“I’m willing to bargain for my life,” she said, as if Chuuya hadn’t spoken. “I can help you take apart my organization. I’ll tell you where our other weapons storage is. I can be useful to you.”

There was a beat of silence before Kouyou chuckled. 

“Oh dear,” she said, smiling wide. “I think there has been a misunderstanding. We aren’t going to kill you.”

Chuuya glanced up at Kouyou in confusion.

“The fuck you mean we’re not?” Chuuya exclaimed. Not that he enjoyed killing people but there was no way she just got to walk free right?

Kouyou locked eyes with Dazai. His grin matched her own. 

“No, we are taking you back to the mafia,” he said. “I could get all that information out of you if I wanted, willing or not. But I don’t need it. I don’t want it.”

“Then what do you want?” she asked, an air of pleading in her voice.

“For you to spend some time alone with the Demon Prodigy,” hissed Kouyou. “I want to make sure you regret ever laying a hand on him.”

“I was only doing what was best for my organization! I could never regret something like that.”

Dazai moved faster than light. Within a second he had twisted the gun from her grip and slammed her up against the cage. His nimble, skeletal fingers wrapped around her throat. 

“Don’t worry dear. I will make you regret it.”

*******

With the three of their combined power, it was easy to drag Monica out of that basement before throwing her to the Black Lizard. Then half of their group set off back to the mafia while the other stayed behind for cleanup.

Once they arrived, Dazai said that he would personally handle Monica. Chuuya watched him walk off, a few mafia members dragging her along behind him. Dazai glanced back at Chuuya. A gleeful smile graced his lips. The kind of smile that chilled blood.

“Now,” Kouyou swooped down on Chuuya before he could blink. “We are going to the infirmary.”

“Wha-?”

Kouyou yanked him by the wrist down the hallway. Chuuya realized that Dazai took Monica just so Kouyou could drag him off to get his injuries inspected. She was just as anxious to get her hands on Monica as Dazai was so there was no other reason for her to have stayed behind.

Chuuya let her drag him along without a fight. He sat painstakingly still while one of the mafia medical staff examined his injuries and fixed them up some. The medical staff was very surprised at how well taken care of they were given the circumstances. Chuuya did not mention that being in a street gang of kids at 10 years old made you very good at patching up injuries with little supplies. 

As soon as Kouyou was satisfied, Chuuya was able to escape the horrible hospital room. Even if he had ended up there more times than he could count, any medical setting still made him jumpy.

Then Kouyou insisted that he head back to his apartment. She said that Chuuya needed rest especially after a physically and mentally taxing mission like that. 

Seeing that it was easier to go along with it, Chuuya let her take him home. She set Chuuya up on the couch and made some tea. 

Chuuya and Kouyou shared tea quite a bit, often in Kouyou’s garden. They would sit and talk about anything they deemed fit and today was no different. Chuuya never had a conventional family and this tea just reminded him what it felt like to be looked after by an older sister, or even a mother. 

“What is he doing to that woman?” asked Chuuya, almost afraid to ask.

“Do you honestly want to know?” Kouyou sat on the couch across from him with her own tea. 

Chuuya took a sip. “No I guess not. I never had any taste for torture.”

“No…” She waited a long moment, staring into her cup. “I hope you now realize you are a part of the mafia and we are not letting you go that easily.”

A very abrupt topic change but Chuuya tried to go along with it. 

“There are still a lot of standards here,” commented Chuuya. “A lot of bars to reach. One day I might not be able to keep up.”

“It’s not about your ability, Chuuya. Your kindness and loyalty are what will make people never want to let you go.” She took a long sip. “For better or for worse.”

“And my capabilities as a weapon. That’s the whole reason this whole thing started.”

Kouyou swept a stray lock of hair out of her eyes and fixed Chuuya with her steely gaze. “The people who matter don’t care about that. And fortunately for you, the people who matter decide who stays and who goes in the mafia. As long as I am here, you will not be tossed to the side.”

The burning anger in her eyes comforted Chuuya more than he would have liked to admit. 

They chatted absently until the tea was finished and Kouyou excused herself. She instead at Chuuya should rest up some more and he agreed, if somewhat begrudgingly. 

He picked up his damn book again and found himself actually able to make progress in it now. To the point he didn’t notice that the hours were flying by, like a shooting star.

*******

Dazai came in through the door at around 10 pm, the hint of a smirk on his lips. It took Chuuya a minute but he finally noticed the blood soaking into Dazai’s shirt. 

“Ahh Chuuya! Good book?”

“What happened to you?” asked Chuuya, setting the book aside. Dazai glanced down at himself and blinked, as if noticing the blood for the first time.

“Ah. None of it’s mine if that makes you feel any better.”

“It really doesn’t,” said Chuuya. He rolled his eyes. “What happened?”

“Karma,” Dazai said cheerfully. “Somebody got a little taste of what they deserved~ I can bring you in tomorrow when I continue if you would like to see?”

“No.” Chuuya could feel his stomach flipping. Call him weak but he preferred to attack his enemies when they were fighting, not when the enemy was locked up helplessly. “You know I don’t like seeing that shit at the best of times. Much less a week after I finished getting tortured.”

Dazai puffed out his cheeks.

“Yes, yes whatever. She still needs to be made up as an example.”

“I’m sure.” 

The thought of bad things befalling her did give Chuuya some satisfaction, though probably not as much as it gave Dazai. 

“Now go clean up and come sit with me.” Chuuya waved Dazai away, reaching for his book again.

Dazai bowed his head, his manic grin had softened. He looked less like the Demon Prodigy and more like Dazai. Chuuya liked that much better. 

About a half an hour later, Dazai was freshly showered and pressed up next to Chuuya again. They had three blankets piled on top of them. For most people that would have been too much with their body heat. But Dazai was always freezing cold and Chuuya was like a heater so they balanced each other out. Add a few extra blankets and they were both warm and cozy.

Dazai had talked Chuuya into watching another one of his complicated detective movies that he always figured out the ending to within the first 20 minutes and never ceased to leave Chuuya confused. 

Chuuya realized that 2 years ago he was a completely different person. Running around with the Sheep, leading and protecting a whole gang of kids at 14 years old. He knew that if he slipped up even the slightest bit with any of them, they would toss him aside for a stronger, better leader. He didn’t necessarily blame them. The strongest survived and the rest were left to rot. 

It seemed like the mafia would be the same thing but worse. Training was rigorous and their expectations were high. The only difference is here he found equals. He had a spot within the chain of command. He didn’t need to do everything himself or be perfect. The people around him would hold onto him and defend him. It was more of a… team he supposed. It was much nicer that way.

Chuuya laid his head down on Dazai’s shoulder and pressed closer against him. Dazai’s arm came up around Chuuya, almost instinctively. He pointed at the screen. 

“See Chuuya? That’s the bit I was telling you about earlier when the guy is going too-”

Chuuya let his eyes go, feeling safe and content for the first time in over a month. He treasured the feeling, holding it tight and close to his chest. He would kill to have another moment like this. 

As it was, right now he just got to enjoy the feeling.