#Chuuya threw up in his mouth a few times during this

[unicornpopcorn14]

13 for the ship prompt! :D

Ship Prompts 13- Write about your ship celebrating one of the members birthdays. Ship chosen: Queerplatonic Skk I got carried away with this (3.5k words aaaaa) 😭😭 Hope you enjoy it, Darcy!! :D

Saccharine

“You’re aware what day of the year it is, right?”

Dazai’s eyes widen, fork still in his mouth as the chatter of the restaurant fades in his ears. It’s been four– almost five years, surely Chuuya isn’t alluding to that. The moment he meets the other’s peeved face, however, his mouth gapes, with the fork still inside it, and whispers in horror,

“Don’t-”

Chuuya cuts him off with an exasperated sigh, “I enjoyed those 51 days of me being a year older, but alas. The time has come for me-”

“Do not-”

“-to be nice to you for the whole day…”

“NOOOOO!!!” He grabs his hair as he lurches back, other customers turning to their table, “Chuuya, if you’re a sadist, I’d much rather find out in better ways!” He bangs on the table with flat hands, to which Chuuya’s veins bulge at, “Would you quit with that awful annual torture-?!”

“Come on, you do this every goddamn year!” Chuuya bickers back, “Indulge a little in what I put myself through for your ungrateful ass.”

“You do it because I don’t like it!”

“Well, true.” Chuuya shrugs, leaning back with folded arms, “But don’t you get at least a little tired from doing this shit constantly? I’d say this is a much needed change of pace-”

“First of all, how dare you suggest that this ‘shit’ is but a front. Maybe you can’t help but pretend to hate me– and I get it, after all, who could resist my charm? But I truly hate you-!”

“Uh huh.”

“-Second of all, I’d rather stay alive than ever go through that quote-un-quote: ‘needed change of pace’ for the third time in my miserable life!”

“That so?” The smirk that Chuuya wears sends Dazai’s long-have-been-numb nerves prickling in foreign agitation that he hasn’t felt in a long time-

“Oh my.” Chuuya’s tone and eyes instantly soften, and Dazai recoils back before he can help it, “Miserable life, Osamu? I’m so sorry to hear that. We can talk about it, you know-”

Dazai clasps his ears shut, “Shut uuuup!!!”

“As you wish,” Dazai grimaces even further because Chuuya just listened to him, “but do know I am always here to talk, yeah?” Chuuya unsheathes one of his gloves to take Dazai’s hand into his own, expression so uncanny as he genuinely smiles at Dazai. The brunette feels sick-

“I’ll avoid you for the whole day if you keep this up!” He threatens crackly, can’t bring himself to take his hand away, “The Agency is definitely pummeling without me helping with the paperwork.”

Chuuya normally would tell him that he slacks on the job anyway, but now he just simply closes his eyes, that same damn smile on his face, “Just say the word, and I’ll give you all the space you need. Never doubt that, mackerel.”

The pet name doesn’t grant him the normalcy he’s desperate for when Chuuya says it in that tone of voice, “No- You’re not supposed to-!” Dazai can sense that his lack of acutely predicting Chuuya’s responses might drive him crazy very soon, so he attempts to try to calm himself, “Aren’t there mafia business for you to attend, Mr. Executive? Does Mori even know you’re here?”

“Don’t worry, Osamu, I freed the whole day just for you.”

“Stop calling me that-”

“Anything you want-”

“Raaaaaghhh!!!” Now he takes his hand back, clutching it on his chest as if he’s been burned, “You’ll crack. You’ll definitely crack. There is no chance you’re keeping this up forever. Your tiny brain won’t handle it!”

But he knows that isn’t the case, because Chuuya’s tiny brain had handled it for the whole day during his seventeenth and eighteenth birthday, and now at 23, his tolerance to Dazai’s insults have significantly heightened, to the brunette’s sheer disdain.

Chuuya tilts his head a little, hair swaying, completing his sickeningly sweet demeanor, “I’d do anything for the most precious person in the world.”

“Eugh- I think I threw up in my mouth a little.” He gags with a fist on his mouth, voice groggy-

The waiter comes up to them, telling them that the other customers have complained about Dazai’s occasional shrieks. Chuuya, still so freaking sweetly, informs her that they were leaving already, pays the restaurant without complaining once about Dazai never pulling his own weight, and they take off.

“This is a nightmare.” Dazai says after a long moment of silence between them, something that never happens, “My feisty dog is suddenly nice, he’s definitely transpiring something wicked against me!”

Chuuya- Chuuya laughs, “You know you’re ridiculous with that…” He doesn’t say it meanly, wiping a tear, which Dazai’s brain haywires at-

“Really, now? Laughing at calling you my dog?” The smallest of frowns dares crease his forehead, “This is too much, even for you.”

“What? You’re funny.” Dazai’s face pales- greens even, “So, where do you want to go, birthday boy?”

Dazai bristles at the nickname, then inhales to calm himself, an idea springing up, “Fine. You asked for it, Slug!” He knows just the perfect way to break him, “We’re going to the arcade.”

He sees the flash in Chuuya’s eyes, and deems himself victorious. Chuuya would never maintain this bullshit at the arcade given his ridiculously competitive nature. He’ll definitely scream at Dazai once or twice out of habit more than anything-

Nothing.

Clearly Chuuya’s willpower has also improved through the years, because there isn’t a single aggressive shout, there isn’t any accusations of Dazai tampering with the machines (he had), and though Chuuya laughs and enjoys the rounds, what he utters after his loss is the straw that breaks the camel’s back,

“Aw shucks. Good match, that was fun.”

Dazai leaps from his seat and turns around the machines to reach the redhead, grabbing his cheeks with panicked eyes, “Chuuya, Chuuya are you in there?! I think you’ve been possessed!” He speaks to the eyes, sensing their amused confusion, “Do something to tell me you’re in there! Any sign!”

Chuuya smiles.

“Ahh!” Dazai lets him go instantly, “Begone, demon!!”

“Come on, now.” The not-Chuuya says fondly- eughhh, “Up for another round?”

“No!” This didn’t work. Dazai needs to think of other ways, make up a plan. Operation: exorcising this cloying demon out of his partner begins in-

“How about we go to my apartment? I have a surprise for you.”

Dazai’s eyes dart as his mind runs in terrifying speeds, addressing the other without looking, “I don’t trust you with surprises right now. You may be small, but you’re no less terrifying.”

Chuuya chuckles, “You’ll love it, trust me-”

Dazai gets into a fighting stance, gasping, “Do not speak of trust with that tone of voice, not-Chuuya!”

Chuuya chuckles again, and his silky tone coaxes him to follow him to his apartment, nevertheless. Dazai can’t believe he’ll have to endure seven more hours of this, planning to break a thing or two of Chuuya’s belongings out of spite if nothing else.

“Don’t think your façade is fooling me, I can see right through you!” He announces impatiently from the couch, leg bouncing up and down as Chuuya pours drinks from the kitchen, “You gagged at least twice through this, didn’t you? Admit it.”

Chuuya laughs again, a record in Dazai’s book. This is so ridiculous. “Stop cracking me up, I can’t pour the drinks.”

Dazai sulks, sinking into the couch, “Shut up…” But it’s weak, replaced by flusterment he can’t ebb down. He feels suddenly helpless with the lack of the reactions, and wonders if he’s losing his touch. The antique vase looks like it wants to crash into the floor in full speed so much right now.

“You’re a little red.” Not-Chuuya is suddenly in front of him, sitting down as he gapes up at him in amusement, “Cute.” He attempts to give Daza his drink.

Dazai, with crossed arms, huffs and turns away, “I’m not talking to you.”

“Why? Did I do anything wrong?” Chuuya asks gently with a smile, placing the glass on the table. Dazai turns even further in order to hide the other from his peripheral.

No, you didn’t. And that’s the problem.

“Your hair looks soft. Fluffy.” Dazai suddenly feels fingers running through the back of his head. His noddle whips so fast his neck feels like it cracked,

“Ew, ew! Don’t touch me, cheap-Chibi-replica!!” He doesn’t exactly flinch away, fuming, “The real Chuuya calls my hair a dirty mop all the time! Do better!”

Not-Chuuya brushes his bangs this time, fixated on them as he speaks, “Maybe he never told you those things because…” He pauses, eyes down-casting a little. Dazai begged him to say ‘you’re a pain in the ass’. It’s what he expects, it’s what makes perfect sense, it’s what aligns with the Chuuya he knows like the back of his hand, pleasepleaseplease-

“…he never really thought he deserved you enough to do so.”

Dazai rigids, “WHAT?!”

“He’s afraid of things he’ll lose.” Chuuya, to Dazai’s absolute disdain, explains, “So he tries his best to push everyone away. Everyone he’s sure will be too precious to him, everyone he’ll latch onto just a little too much, he tries his best to maintain his distance from th-”

“Chuuya, I have never been more serious with you in my life: Please stop.” Dazai numbly says, suddenly so, so exhausted.

The redhead’s mouth clasps, as per request, but he clarifies that it still isn’t over, “Only six more hours and I will.”

“Why?” Dazai stresses, uncomfortable, “You can end it here. Nothing obligates you to-”

“You never asked for your surprise.” Chuuya cuts him off.

Dazai blinks, turning to him, “If I see it, will you stop?”

“Only if you want to.”

“Of course I will.” Dazai rolls his eyes, “Now, on with it. If it gets the real Chuuya out, then the sooner the better.”

Chuuya smiles, but there is something solemn regarding it. He gets up, with Dazai observing his every move, and scurries through a drawer big and wide enough to accommodate stacks of files and documents. Dazai’s eyes narrow, never taking interest to rummage through this particular drawer for how boring its contents appear to be, but now his interest in piqued, as Chuuya finds what he’s looking for with a small: “Aha.”

Dazai thinks he sees an envelope in Chuuya’s hand as he ambles closer, but that can’t be right-

“Here.”

“Your surprise is a letter?” Dazai truly hasn’t been more confused in his life. He hates that he can’t see where this is going, inspecting the brown envelope as he speaks, “Chuuya, I don’t think there is anything you can’t verbally say to me now, do you? This is usele-”

His eyes widen, breath catching in his throat as he reads the name embedded on the paper.

From: Odasaku

Time seems to stop while Dazai reads the nickname once, twice. It’s in English cursive that can never be Chuuya’s handwriting, and his hands tremble ever so slightly the moment he registers the credibility of what he’s holding. This is real.

“You- wh-” He looks back and forth between the envelope and Chuuya’s gentle eyes, gaze never seeming to want to leave either.

Chuuya sits on the couch, voice subdued, “Your Executive desk was cleared by me after your defection, as per my own request. I was admittedly selfish– looking for anything you might have left for me before you left. Something to explain, anything-”

“Chuuya-”

“Hey, let me finish, will you?” Chuuya sends him a soft smile in reassurance, “I found this instead, read the first two paragraphs before I closed it again. It explained everything I needed to know, Dazai.” He leans back, drinking out of the wine glass, “You can read it privately if you want.”

But Dazai doesn’t get up, scrambling to take the paper out with shaky fingers. His heart wildly throbs once a long wall of text meets his widened eyes,

This is but my latest prose as a person worthy of being a writer, a person who is not tainted with blood. Dazai, if I die before seeing you one last time, I do not wish to end things between us on such terms. There is a lot I wish to tell you before I leave…

Dazai reads every word, eyes welling against his will, making the letters blur and scramble as one. Oda speaks of their time together, his fondest memories, his ideals- tells him he would’ve left a letter for Ango hadn’t it been for the circumstances. Tells him the name of his adopted children, the characteristics each of them had.

I, truly, have considered you one of them.

Oda informs him of how much he resembled a burnt black cat the first time they met, how he doesn’t seem as burnt now. Dazai chuckles wetly as Odasaku says that he’s happy he’d known him, even for a short while, even in their circumstances.

Whatever path you’ll choose after what occurs, please remember this:

The brunette suddenly hiccups, an ugly sound seldom forced out of him. He covers his mouth, finds his lips too shaky to form words, heart feeling more than all it had felt in almost half a decade-

“He said he’s proud of me, even before knowing I’d defect.” He isn’t sure why he’s whispering this to his partner, “He-” His cheeks feel wetter than before, to which he looks at his hand. Droplets of salt continue to fall on them so assertively, he thinks they might cause them to bleed,

“What is this- what have you done to me…?” Dazai knows he’s crying, he just doesn’t know why he can’t will himself to feel numb again. Everything is hazy and sloppy and wet, and he keeps the precious paper away, afraid it will get caught up in that uncontrollable mess…

“Do you hate it?” Chuuya asks faintly, with some regret in it. Dazai shakes his head, leaving the letter on the table-

“No, I don’t but- these monstrous things won’t stop.” He croaks as he wipes with both hands on his face, and to his horror the tears double, the sobs get even more violent, “I think I’ve been possessed, too…”

“Hey, come here…” Chuuya guides him through his fit, which Dazai blindly follows, till he finds himself with a weight on his laps and both arms and legs embracing him. Dazai latches back so tightly, trembling as he puts all of his force into the fists that both hit Chuuya lightly and grab the back of his shirt with. He doesn’t have to wipe the tears when Chuuya’s garment acts as a napkin, soaking every single thing he wishes to hide.

“He said he’s proud…” Dazai repeats, squeaks, burying his nose into the warmth of his partner.

“That he did.” Chuuya’s ungloved fingers caress his hair, and don’t stop until the persistent tears finally stop flowing. Dazai stays huddled in the warmth for more seconds despite himself, selfishly wishing to steal it all, before shifting to indicate his desire to draw away, and Chuuya instantly gets off of him.

He can’t bring himself to look at the azure pupils no matter how hard he tries, eyes shifting away to the table and the carpet and the hands on his lap.

It has been long since he’s felt this bare, much less over a gift. He had received many birthday presents in the last two years especially: Ranpo would give him all the sweets he could offer, Kenji crops from his field, Kyouka pretty daggers, Atsushi hugs and flowers, the Tanizaki siblings a cake of their making, Yosano fancy wine bottles, Kunikida would treat him to a meal, and Fukuzawa would orchestrate the whole party…

While it would all be appreciated, he never really felt any joy over being one year older. Most times he regrets ever living this long, so he doesn’t regard the gifts or parties done in his honor with as much gratefulness as he feels he’s supposed to.

But this? This one letter lying opened on the table?

It might be the best birthday gift he’d… ever received.

And he wants to let Chuuya know that.

“Uh.” What was he supposed to say again? What did normal people say in situations like this? Thank you? Sorry? “You’re… appreciable, slug.”

That was neither- what the fuck, brain??

Chuuya would have pointed his terrible attempt at being grateful out at any other day, but now he simply smiles relievedly,

“I’m glad you like it.”

This version of his partner is starting to prove that he isn’t so bad, after all.

Dazai frowns, still avoiding eye-contact, “No, um, what I mean is… mmmm….” He sinks so far in the couch, till only his head is reclining by the back of the seat. He crosses his arms and averts his face, physically forcing himself to say it, “tnks…” he whispers.

“Hm?”

It’s a beat, then Dazai roughly flops his head on Chuuya’s lap, because he can’t articulate his appreciation with words, and thus wants to show it by doing something Chuuya likes, which is having to look down to see Dazai instead of the other way around. He feels the other tense for a second before his hand reluctantly cups his brown hair in question.

“Thanks.” Dazai grits into Chuuya’s pants, then rolls on his back, finally meeting the amused blues, “Don’t get the wrong idea, demon, you won’t catch me saying this to the real Chuuya at all. But you get a pass. Only this once.”

“Might as well feel honored, huh?” Chuuya chuckles, and it’s truly genuine.

A small smile cracks Dazai’s face for a mere second. Wannabe-Chuuya is really more acquainted to handle these moments than regular Chuuya. It’s definitely why he waited for Dazai’s birthday to hand the letter to him– an excuse to show his raw and real care that Dazai undeservedly bathes himself in.

“So, do you want him back, now?”

Dazai doesn’t, but can't ever shed light on contradicting himself, so he dramatically says instead, “I’ll think about it.”

The redhead’s brow ridges, though not with his typical ‘I’m done with your bullshit’ frown. It’s with a smile.

He wonders when Chuuya ever learned to be this good of an actor.

Dazai feigns a long sigh, “Fine, you can stay a little longer…” then pauses, blinking upwards, “Wait- am I betraying real-Chuuya that way?”

“I’m sure he doesn’t mind.” Chuuya says as he strokes Dazai’s unkempt bangs away from his face.

Dazai’s mouth curls in displeasure because he likes it, “I hate you.”

“He hates you too, buddy.” It’s better to hear it in third person, like this part of Chuuya forever believes he is worth not being hated, “Wanna spend the rest of the day here or go somewhere else?”

“Energy’s gone, not-my-Chibi.” He twirls the long end of the fiery hair in a finger, “Outdoor activities will be a chore…”

Chuuya shakes his head and rolls his eyes in fondness, “This might be the lamest birthday setting ever.”

“That’s exactly right.” Dazai sneers, “But when were we ever conventional with the way we do things?”

“Touche. At least I got a cake and a candle.”

“Ugh, no. You know I hate formalities.”

They carry it out anyway, with Dazai ruining Chuuya’s attempts to sing properly, and Chuuya being patient through and through.  

His partner must have expected Dazai to want to stay home after receiving his gift, because they spend the next six hours doing everything Dazai likes– They play videogames, they cook and Dazai makes the kitchen an unsalvageable mess, they wildly dance together and stumble on their feet, they watch murder mysteries and brain rotting soap operas in a pillow fort, they play with cards and Chuuya loses every single time.

It's until there is fifteen minutes left till midnight, with Dazai getting his hair braided, that he finds himself glancing back with a devious idea in mind. Testing Chuuya’s willpower one last time wouldn’t hurt, would it…?

“Ah, so. I hate to admit it– who am I kidding, no I don't,” He gives an exaggerated winces as he glances back, “but I maybe, sorta bleached all your coats while you were in the restroom when I was mad at you.”

Chuuya pauses his braiding, staring at Dazai for a long while… then all of the veins on his body pop-

He gets yanked backwards by the hair, “Ow, OW!” Dazai laughs because finally, “My, Chuuya, you’re back sooner than expected!”

Chuuya grabs him in a chokehold, which Dazai tries to escape from, “I can’t fucking take it anymore,” He growls, and Dazai laughs even harder, “My coats? MY COATS, DAZAI?!”

“It’s tie-dye season! Never heard of tie-dye season?!” Dazai slips downwards, successfully scrambling away as Chuuya attempts to grab him but he isn’t fast enough-

“GET YOUR ASS BACK HERE!!”

Dazai's half-done braids bounce as he sprints, “Bring nice-Chuuya back first!!”

“SAY GOODBYE TO HIM FOREVER, BASTARD!”

“What?! Noooo, call me Osamu one last time!”

“IN YOUR WILDEST FUCKING DREAMS!!”

They pause the chase when Dazai’s behind the kitchen counter and Chuuya’s outside, if only to catch their breaths, “You know, if it weren’t for the fact that me being nice isn’t as effective on you, I’d have made it a staple on your birthday as well!”

Dazai grins evilly, as Chuuya pales.

“How would that go, again?” Dazai taps his chin, “Oh, Nakahara-Sama, You’re so smart and cool.” Chuuya’s face turns green, the piled urge to vomit since he’d started his act finally getting to him, “You are definitely not a dog and you’re actually the perfect height, goes nicely with your figure and strong build-“

“No, fuck! Euuugh!!!” Chuuya actively empties his stomach in a conveniently placed bucket, Dazai claps in victory,

“Aha! Maximum damage!!!” He points at him, “What comes around goes around, Slug!!”

“You’ll fucking pay for that!”

Chuuya breaks the door of the kitchen down, adding to the unhopeful mess Dazai’d made. Their wild goose chase keeps going till three in the morning.

And Dazai? Keeps laughing till all his heart’s content…

[tickly-trashcan]

Crush {Gin & Akutagawa}

A/N: Okay wow again this one ended up a lot longer than I expected but y’know what sometimes that’s what happens. I started writing this before prompts were open and ended up finishing it just in time. This is also for Akutagawa’s birthday!! It’s not birthday themed but that’s okay, I still love him and wanted to do something special for him! Also I mentioned a little bit ago that i’d start putting pictures in with my fics, so here we go with that lol. Okay, now that that’s out of the way, I hope you enjoy this one!

Summary: Gin has noticed something off about her brother for a little while now, and she intends to get to the bottom of it.

Word Count: 2.1k (under the cut)

Something was… off.

Gin couldn’t quite place what it was, but something strange was happening with Akutagawa. He would stare into space often at mealtimes, and during those staring sessions his cheeks would occasionally dust a very faint pink, something that Gin had only recently noticed. He was coming home later than usual, and he didn’t talk about work as often with Gin, one of the things they used to talk about openly.

Yes, something was definitely off.

And Gin was going to find out what it was.

Gin was making dinner when Akutagawa finally came home, coughing lightly into his hand as he stood in the doorway, toeing off his shoes.

“Welcome home, big brother,” Gin said, a soft smile on her face as she looked over at him, pausing her cooking for a moment.

Akutagawa grunted a quick “hello” in response and walked out of Gin’s sight. Gin leaned in the kitchen doorway slightly to peek at what he was doing, and saw that he was sitting at the dining room table, staring down at his phone. He stared at it for a moment before typing something, then tucking his phone away in his pocket. He noticed Gin staring, and furrowed his brows in confusion.

“Do you need anything?”

“If you want to help chop the rest of the vegetables that would be nice,” Gin said, gesturing back into the kitchen. Akutagawa nodded, getting up from his seat and walking into the kitchen with Gin, picking up a knife as he started to chop up some potatoes. 

“Were you texting someone?” Gin asked sweetly, stirring the pot. Akutagawa cut down onto the cutting board rather hard before answering.

“I was sending a message to Chuuya about a mission tomorrow,” He said calmly after a short pause. 

Gin hummed softly in response. She could tell he was lying. She grew up around her brother, she knew all of his habits, and she knew that whenever he lied he would pause and talk in a softer tone than usual, as if it made him nervous.

Gin held back a grin as she continued to stir the pot, turning around to see that Akutagawa had cut the rest of the vegetables she needed. She made another gesture for him to hand them to her, which he promptly did, Gin tossing them into the pot. She stirred it around a few more times before adding in some broth, Akutagawa standing next to her as he watched.

“Are we having curry tonight?” He asked.

Gin nodded, and Akutagawa let out a low hum before walking out of the kitchen.

“Let me know if you need help with anything else, Gin.”

She peeked out of the kitchen once more and saw him walk into his bedroom, most likely to read and just enjoy his own company until dinner. Gin sighed. She could ask him more about it at dinner, but she was determined to get the truth out no matter what.

She finished up the curry just as the rice was done cooking, and she promptly dished up servings for herself and her brother. She set the table and knocked on Akutagawa’s bedroom door, waiting for him to respond.

“Yes?”

“Dinner’s ready.”

Akutagawa came out of his door a few moments later, Gin already sitting in her seat while Akutagawa took the seat across from her. They ate in silence for a few moments before Gin decided to ask another question.

“What’s your mission with Chuuya tomorrow?”

Akutagawa paused for a moment, spoon halfway to his mouth as he processed the question for a moment. 

“It’s a simple clear out of an enemy that’s been getting too close, that’s all,” He said softly, taking a bite of his curry. Gin nodded, a sly smile on her lips.

“It just so happens that I know Chuuya’s working with the Black Lizard tomorrow, Ryuunosuke,” Gin lied back, trying to psyche out her brother.

Akutagawa’s eyes narrowed in confusion and he looked up at Gin. She smiled back at him, and Akutagawa coughed lightly into his hand as he forced a poker face.

“I see. There must have been a miscommunication on my part then. I’ll have to ask Mori for my orders tomorrow.”

Gin’s smile only widened as she realized she had her brother in a corner. He shifted uncomfortably in his seat as Gin continued to smile innocently at him, eating her meal.

“You haven’t talked about work that much recently either, Ryuunosuke, is there a reason for that?”

Akutagawa shifted again. Why was Gin firing all of these questions at him?

“I don’t feel the need to talk about it, considering we do the same thing,” He explained quickly, trying to keep his voice level.

Gin nodded, placing her chin on her hand as her elbow rested on the table.

“Is work why you’ve been coming home later too? Or is there a different reason for that?”

Akutagawa set his spoon down and crossed his arms.

“Why are you interrogating me, Gin?”

Gin hummed, smiling sweetly. “I suppose it is an interrogation at this point… Keeping that in mind, I would like an answer to my question.”

Akutagawa clicked his tongue. “We both already know the rule: those in the mafia with loose tongues die first. I don’t have any reason to tell you about my personal affairs with… never mind.”

“With who?” Gin was finally getting somewhere. She could see Akutagawa’s cheeks tint pink again. Gin held back a chuckle. So that’s what it was…

She waited a moment until just before Akutagawa was about to speak when she spoke.

“Do you have a crush, Ryuunosuke?”

Akutagawa’s eyes widened and the color on his cheeks grew. Gin smiled. She had hit the jackpot.

“No! That’s preposterous-”

“So who is it?”

Akutagawa stammered, trying to find the words, but instead he stood up, picking up his dinner plate that he had finished long before the interrogation had started. 

Gin chuckled softly and followed in suit, carrying her empty dish to the sink and placing hers in after Akutagawa. 

“Is it Higuchi?” She asked, Akutagawa turning away from her and walking towards the living room, sitting on the couch and picking up a book.

“I’m ignoring you,” He stated simply, and Gin merely sat next to him, continuing to list the possible people that she knew of.

“Was it just a regular civilian? Oh, maybe Tachihara? You two have been getting closer lately~”

Akutagawa pulled the book closer to his face, hiding the growing color on his cheeks from Gin as she continued to press on, until she finally got sick of the silent treatment from her brother.

“Ryuunosuke.”

No response.

“Ryuunosuke,” she poked his side to try and get his attention, and he jolted at the touch. Gin blinked before a more devious smile than her previous ones formed on her face. Akutagawa glanced at Gin, noticing the look on her face, and set the book down.

“What, are you gonna suggest I fell in love with Kaji now? You’re just listing off people I know!”

“So you do have a crush on someone?”

Akutagawa froze. Gin scooted closer to Akutagawa, who scooted back until he was at the end of the couch with nowhere to go.

“I’m gonna get it out of you, you know this Ryuunosuke. I know exactly how, too,” She said, raising her hands. Akutagawa’s eyes bulged as he glared at Gin.

“Gin, no. No. I don’t have feelings for anyone, you don’t need to do this-”

Before Akutagawa could further protest, Gin launched herself at him, Akutagawa letting out a loud “no!” Before Gin’s hands descended on his sides, Akutagawa held back his laughter by biting his lip as he grabbed Gin’s wrists, her fingers softly dancing up his sides and waist.

“G-Gin, stohop… stop it right now,” Akutagawa said, his voice shaking as he held back his laughter as best he could, his face broken into a wide grin, desperate not to give in. Gin only smiled, digging her fingers in a tad harder as Akutagawa let out a tiny squeak.

“I’m not stopping until you tell me who it is, Ryuunosuke. You better start talking~” She teased, squeezing Akutagawa’s waist as he took a sharp intake of air. It was getting harder to hold back his laughter, he wasn’t sure how much longer he would hold up.

“Gin, hehe- I’m s-serious,” Akutagawa said, his laughter starting to break through. He snickered softly, squeezing his eyes shut as he put his hand over his mouth to better cover his laughter. Gin sighed. Looks like the gentle approach wasn’t going to work with him. 

Gin raised her hands and dug into Akutagawa’s ribs. Akutagawa let out a surprised shriek. The persistent, hard sensations were different from Gin’s gentle ones from before, causing Akutagawa to immediately start laughing. 

He uncovered his mouth to grab Gin’s wrists, trying to pry them off of him as he squirmed, Gin unrelenting. Gin laughed along with Akutagawa, drumming her fingers along his ribs as he threw his head back, cackling.

“I haven’t heard you laugh in so long! Maybe I should do this more often!” She said gleefully. 

“N-No you shohohohouldn’t!”

It was true, she hadn’t heard her brother laugh very often, if anything she only ever heard him chuckle. When they were younger she would tickle him occasionally to help him cheer up, but as they grew older moments like that were scarce.

“GAha-Gin! Stohohop it!” Akutagawa shrieked, his cheeks turning a light shade of red as he continued to laugh, tugging at Gin’s wrists in an attempt to pull them off, but to no avail.

“You know exactly how to make it stop, Ryuunosuke, just tell me who it is.”

“Nohohohohobody!”

Gin clicked her tongue teasingly, squeezing Akutagawa’s hips as he jumped, letting out a shriek as he dissolved into more laughter. Gin dug her thumb into Akutagawa’s hip bone, Akutagawa squirming away as much as he could as giggles poured from his lips.

She scribbled her fingers over Akutagawa’s tummy, Akutagawa arching his back and gripping her wrists harder, one hand pushing at her shoulder in another attempt to get her off of him. Loud, deep laughter continued to pour from his mouth as he shook his head back and forth.

“I think you’re gonna break soon~” Gin teased, her slender fingers dextrous as they continued to spider around Akutagawa’s abdomen, Akutagawa cackling as he continued to squirm next to Gin, trying to pry her hands off.

“I’m nohohohot! Th-There’s nobody, I swehehehehear! Stop!” Akutagawa laughed, pleading as Gin returned to his ribs.

She moved from his ribs under his arms, Akutagawa immediately retracting his hands to clamp his arms down at his sides on reflex, letting out a screech of ticklish agony as Gin grinned.

“Looks like I found a good spot.”

“Gin! NohohoHOHOHO!!” 

Akutagawa threw his head back, his cackles filling the room as he laughed frantically, shaking his head from side to side as he pressed his arms down harder in an attempt to make the ticklish sensations halt, but to no avail.

“Alright! Alrihihihihight, stoHOHOHOP!”

Gin smiled, pulling her hands back as Akutagawa caught his breath, clutching his chest as he wheezed. She waited patiently for him to collect himself, easily deflecting the glare he sent her when he finally recovered. He looked away from Gin, his cheeks pink as he crossed his arms.

Gin raised her hands again, threatening him to talk, making Akutagawa let out a small squeak. He glared daggers at her, and looked away again, letting out a small huff.

“I suppose you were correct in your assumptions…” He said softly, the color on his cheeks growing as Gin lowered her hands, settling them in her lap as she listened intently.

“Who is it then?”

Akutagawa opened his mouth to speak, but no words came out. He closed it again and slouched into the couch, huffing again. Gin frowned, poking Akutagawa’s side again, making him jump.

“Okay! It’s… Jinko…”

Gin smiled widely. She had finally gotten it out of him, and what an unexpected person as well. This was truly interesting… 

“How did that happen?” Gin asked with genuine interest.

“...Joint missions.”

Gin smiled, ruffling Akutagawa’s hair, who quickly swatted her hand away. Gin chuckled, pulling her hand back as she stood up from the couch.

“If you need any help with courting him let me know~”

“I’m not going to court him!” Akutagawa exclaimed, turning around to face Gin as the color on his cheeks grew once again. Gin laughed, waving a hand to Akutagawa, who stood up from the couch and walked back into his room, shutting the door behind him. Gin smiled to herself as she started on the dishes. Maybe this would work out for him…

[bungostraydoggos]

What about Dazai, Kunikida, and Chuuya reacting to there first blow job. (bonus points if its during a mission or at work)

~NSFW DISCLAIMER~

Dazai Osamu

It’s been almost an hour since their contractor was supposed to meet up with Dazai and his partner at the warehouse and still, they haven’t shown up. They are really late however, they must be patient since this is an important contractor according to the ADA president. Dazai sits on top of a container next to his partner. He gives them an empty look before coming up with an sly idea.  “Hey, do you wanna do it?” Their eyes widen at the question, “h-here? I don’t think we should...” Dazai’s pleading eyes was coaxing, and he leaned closer to them whispering, “it’ll be first time receiving something like this from you so just a little bit?” Dazai pulls back and relaxes his hands, anchoring from behind his back. He spreads his legs so his significant other has plenty of space. They crouch down and unzips Dazai’s pants. They pull it out with their slender fingers and their cold touch felt exhilarating to Dazai. First, they brought their tongue to the head and slowly but surely, more and more saliva came pouring down from their pink lips onto Dazai’s dick. It was as if it was glistening waterfall just spilling down to a man’s proud jewel. Finally, they take the whole thing into its mouth and began sucking. Circular motions, push-and-pulling... the tongue caressed the middle shaft from inside their mouth as they go up-and-down drooling and sucking like a hungry tempest. It wasn’t before long till Dazai reached his limit and all of his sweet sighs barely escaped. Dazai has been waiting for a moment like this to happen, especially receiving blow job from someone he loves. When Dazai released, his partner wasn’t able to swallow everything and so they made a white puddle around them as well as clear, white drips on their cheeks and the pit of the collar.  “Hello? I apologize for the lateness...” With one quick swoop, Dazai threw his brown trench coat over his partner, hiding them away from reality. Dazai has already zipped and cleaned himself up, and Dazai’s significant other didn’t realize the contractor that just came in.  “Not at all. We took our sweet time waiting...” Thankfully, the client didn’t pick up Dazai’s subtle meaning behind those words. 

Kunikida Doppo

It was around 9:00PM when Kunikida has finally wrapped up his work. Everyone at the Armed Detective Agency has already gone home except Kunikida. Unfortunately, he had the late night shift thanks to Dazai for not doing any work and that made him upset. Kunikida collects his things and leaves his office until he noticed a familiar presence before him.  “Going home?”  Kunikida’s partner was waiting for him and frankly speaking, he was glad it wasn’t some sort of surprise attack from an enemy. Kunikida nodded at their question, “yeah. It’s been a long, stressful day.” As Kunikida makes a sour expression from suddenly thinking of Dazai’s foolish antics, Kunikida’s partner moves closer to him and suggests something that surprised the former math teacher.  “I can take that stress away from you, if you’d like...” Next thing before he knew, their hands were at his crotch and Kunikida gulps at the thought. So many things were going through his head and he wonders himself if he could actually receive a blow job. He’s still a virgin, and getting a blow job was incomprehensible to him. But this is his lover and of course, the erotic thought didn’t bother him. If anything, he wants it. Kunikida looks into their eyes with confirmation and resolve, signaling them that he wants them to continue. Their hands start to rub Kunikida and soon, he became so hard it looked like it was suffocating under the fabric. Their finger unzipped his pants and in the next second, they’ve already insert it inside their mouth. They were careful to not involve teeth so they made sure their lips wrapped the upper and lower part of their teeth. So many precum was spilling from the head of the dick but they made sure that they don’t let anything go to a waste. Kunikida grunts and his hot breath made his glasses foggy. Kunikida’s partner was getting turned on even more after seeing his flustered state. They began sucking harder, faster and with even more powerful force with the tongue against the shaft. Maybe because it was Kunikida’s first time, he came instantly. For Kunikida, this electrical sensation was phenomenal and he came to realization that this is how it feels to receive a blow job from the person you love. Kunikida’s hardness has calmed down yet his partner continued to suck but at a much slower and steady pace. They let go and smile, “did I suck the stress away?” Kunikida blushes at the stupid, cheesy question and looks away with his foggy glasses, “yeah.”

Nakahara Chuuya

“Not yet!” Chuuya is stuck at work. Compiling papers, signing documents, and sorting out criminal files--- he’s been so busy and because of that, the stress has been piling. Moreover, it didn’t help lessen his stress with his significant other constantly asking him if he’s finished with work. Once again, he sharply retorts, “not yet!” Chuuya’s partner pouts at his rejection. They’ve been waiting for Chuuya to get off work for the past few hours, but since he’s one of the head Port Mafia member, he isn’t able to be let off so easily. They sigh sullenly until they thought of an idea that could help Chuuya get off the edge just a little bit--- or maybe a lot. Chuuya mutters and rants under his breath. Unbeknownst to him, his partner has already gone under the office desk, quickly and smoothly unzipping his black pants. In one sly gesture, they plop Chuuya’s dick out and within seconds, they began their elaborate tongue work, leaving wet trails of saliva from the bottom of the shaft to the top of the head. Chuuya jolted at the sudden sensation. Everything was going by so fast and it was taking a few minutes for him to understand what is currently happening. Chuuya lets out a moan and sees his significant other under the table, giving him a blow job in which he didn’t expect at all. This was his first time in receiving something like this and he was absolutely flustered at the hot feeling and display his partner was showing. Their tongue was so red and pink. It wrapped Chuuya’s thick dick like it was a gift wrapper. As they kept sucking, their tongue reached at the head and out of the blue, they use their lips to nibble his most sensitive part. Chuuya’s legs shudders and the shivers are giving him goosebumps. Chuuya’s grip tightened and the documents he was holding crumpled. His partner began to vigorously suck back-and-forth his hard member like it was a popsicle. He was able to see their dipped cheeks as they were sucking the life out of him. It wasn’t long before they let go of Chuuya’s dick and spit saliva into their hands instead. They lick every corner and side of their fingers before bringing their hands to Chuuya’s still hard dick. Since the blow job was enough, it was time for a hand job. Chuuya jumped at the exciting feeling. He was breathing so heavily and it would be no exaggeration that he almost activated his gravitational abilities.  “I-I’m coming!” Chuuya couldn’t take it anymore and released everything inside of him. Thankfully, his partner was quick enough to put his dick in their mouth and swallowed everything in order to avoid making a mess. However, to no avail, Chuuya just kept coming and they weren’t able to swallow completely everything. Drips of whiteness splattered around the floor and his partner’s face. Chuuya was about to unwind until Mori opened the door.  “Chuuya-kun, you can go home now---” Although Chuuya’s partner was hidden under the table, Mori senses something that there was something going on with Chuuya. As perceptive as he is, he has figured it out just by looking at his underling’s expression.  “---make sure you clean up afterwards!”  And with that, Mori leaves and Chuuya faints from complete exhaustion. 

[misstinfoilhat]

The Boy in the Belfry Pt. 11, a Bungo Stray Dogs fic.

I might not be able to update this weekend, but you can read the whole story here. I’ve rewritten some parts for tumblr, nothing major. --- The door to the cool, tiled room opened and a familiar face appeared in the opening. A small streak of light shone on the battered face of the young teenager who sat, cradling himself on the floor.

Dazai's worried face snapped up as Mori entered the room. A twitchy but relieved smile became visible on the teens face in recognition, and Mori smiled back. Something seemed off though. Something in Mori's eyes.

Regret? Maybe even sorrow?

Dazai's faint smile morphed into a scream, as another dog was released into the room. ---

Mori stood expressionless and watched their prisoner. He had been fading in and out of consciousness since they arrived. The lack of smart remarks and smirks from his former apprentice was unnerving, to say the least. It was as if he was looking at the broken ten-year-old who he had saved from the very same man he now had returned him to, so many years ago.

Abducting him from the hospital had been easier than expected. As soon as The Babysitters Club had dispatched, he seemingly had free range. It turned out that there weren't many safety precautions there at all. Mori had walked in, wearing his old white coat and been assumed to be a doctor at the hospital. The elderly receptionist had not hesitated when giving up the room number, and he had walked in, injected the sleeping ADA agent with a mild tranquilizer, unhooked him from any tubes and wires and walked out of there with him in a wheelchair.

It was so easy that it almost felt anticlimactic. It only made him happy that the Port Mafia had their own medical wing, with a large staff and all the facilities necessary to treat any kind of sickness or injury.

The Armed Detective Agency clearly needed to step up their game.

The preacher himself was a big disappointment too. The large and intimidating figure was reduced to nothing more than a hunchbacked old man, who was clearly a little out of touch with reality and completely insane.

At the moment he was downstairs at the altar, switching between preaching and speaking in tongues to an imaginary congregation.

Mori chuckled. He had never in his life believed in any God.

Calmly, he walked towards Dazai, silently assessing his injuries and how much time he had left, if left in this hopeless state.

He reminisced about the first time he had seen Dazai. He passed the old church at random on his way to a mission, while a Sunday service had just finished. The preacher had stood grand and stoic, shaking every single hand as the crowd of people passed on their way out. Behind him stood a boy with half of his face covered in bandages, leaning heavily on crutches.

His black suit made him transparent with the dark walls of the church as he stood, terrified of meeting anyone's gaze. Almost invisible, to anyone but Mori.

To Mori, he shone bright like a firefly in the night. A forsaken soul, a fractured mind and an unforgivable sinner. He was perfect.

Mori asked around about the strange pair. It appeared that this preacher was well known in the more extremist Christian societies of the city at the time. The ones who longed and grasped at something or anything to save them and prove their faith. They would believe anything they were told (or in this case, shown, which further fueled the preacher's narcissism).

This was also the reason no one knew his actual name. In his everyday life, he had taken the name Gen'emon Tsushima (1), and he called Dazai, Shuji (2). But, he wanted to be known simply as the preacher. The Preacher. The one and only. He could show them God, but in his own mind, he probably was the man himself. There was no one registered by the names Gen’emon and Shuji Tsushima in Yokohama- not much research needed to find that out. The Preacher would only call Dazai by his real name whenever he was 'performing', an act that was exclusive and very expensive.

From that point forward, the arrangements had been easy, and Mori had manipulated the situation to seem like any other of the preacher's… gigs. 

The fact that the boy's mind had turned on his father was simply a very lucky coincidence.

Mori sighed and looked at the loosening bandages on Dazai's forearms. Every single day of Dazai's life was sketched onto his body in scars.

The leader of the Port Mafia scoffed as an ominous smile came to show on his lips.

---

“What has Skindiana Bones done this time?” sneered an aggravated Chuuya as he answered the phone.

“I might borrow that sometime,” Kunikida mumbled as he waited for the rest of the agency to get seated into the cars.

“Shut your face or tell me what's going on.”

“I wish I could, but I don't really know. Dazai disappeared from the hospital again sometime during the night.”

“I'm shocked,” he said nonchalantly, “but, I haven't heard anything from the bonehead.”

“We're going to The Shinja church right now, we've looked everywhere else.”

Kunikida waited for a reply. When it didn't come any, he continued.

“I thought you might like to know, in case you want to tag along.”

Another silent moment, before an exasperated sigh, was heard from the other end.

“Fine!” and a short 'fuck' was heard as the connection cut.

---

Chuuya wasted no time as he ran to his motorcycle. It was faster and made it easier to pass all the slowpokes on the road. He wondered if he should have told them that Dazai's father was back, but he had no idea how much they already knew. There was no time to explain.

Before starting his bike he suddenly remembered something. Another curse was whispered, as he ran back in to the house and retrieved a bag that he tucked safely in the compartment under the seat before he got on the bike and raced through the morning streets, feeling the fresh puddles of rainwater splash onto his calfs as he headed for that place that made his blood freeze. He just prayed (nonono, no way) hoped it hadn't gotten out of hand.

---

In a different part of town, two more vehicles were speeding towards the Shinja Church. There was no way to know what they would see when they arrived. Atsushi sat in the back of Kunikida's car with Kyouka, as he usually did. Restless legs shook while worried eyes looked out the windows and no one spoke.

Ranpo sat in the passenger seat up front, while Kunikda was driving. Yosano drove the other car, with Kenji and Tanizaki.

They had to park their cars across the street at a parking lot. While they all ushered out of the vehicles, a red and black motorcycle spun past them, and the redheaded driver threw his helmet to the curb and ran to the fence that embraced the dilapidated building.

“Chuuya!” Kunikida yelled as the ran across the road.

The gate was once again chained up, and the short man furiously shook the gate before he started climbing. Kunikida quickly pulled out his notebook and drew some boltcutters that he used to clip the lock.

The gate creaked open with the startled mafia executive on top of it, clinging to it desperately while it slid to the side.

“Patience, my friend,” Kenji smiled as they entered the property.

Chuuya gnarled something inaudible as he jumped off. Kunikida looked ready to open the door, but Chuuya fled up the few steps and stopped him.

“Wait,” he gasped. Kunikida looked confused at him, as Chuuya let go of his tight grip of the tall man's arm.

“The doors were bolted shut the last time we were here,” he said quietly. “There has definitely been someone in here since then. If it's...” how much should he actually tell them?

“Dazai's father?” Ranpo blurted out. Chuuya threw him a skeptical look.

“Do you already know?” he asked.

“No, we don't. It was an educated guess,” Ranpo explained, looking a bit ashamed.

“Well, you're probably right. And if this is in fact what is going on, Dazai might be in very real danger,” Chuuya explained. “Mori might be in there too. The leader of the Port Mafia.”

“Why haven't you told us this befo-” Kunikida's nostrils dilated and his cheeks flushed, but he got interrupted by a dangerous stare from the small man.

“Not the time, sunshine!” Chuuya sneered. “We need to get a move on.”

Chuuya had second thoughts, 'Shit, shit, shit, he's gonna hate me, he's gonna destroy me, completely obliviate me, he's gonna kill me...'

But, he was already here. And Dazai was in there.

He positioned himself to open the doors, and looked at the others, receiving a nod in return. They were ready.

The doors groaned loudly as they opened, and a deranged voice roamed through the voluminous room.

“Shower me in your light! I am nothing but a pawn. Please, listen to a sinners chagrin!”

The lights flickered, and the purple fog returned for the first time in twelve years.

Mori stood by the wall in the sanctuary, looking over to their newest arrivals with a satisfied grin.

Further down at the crossing, Dazai sat slumped on the stairs. He had been discarded of his hospital clothes and lay nearly bare except for the boxer shorts and bandages, half-conscious.

A couple of feet from him, stood The Preacher with his hands reached out and eyes closed as the dark haze engulfed his son's body once again.

Dazai's weak body trembled, from fear or from pain. Maybe both. The convolutions he was far too familiar with had started, turned more violent and soon he lay limp on his side.

The earth stood still. No sound, no light, no movement, no nothing.

Until suddenly Dazai arched his broken back with a loud gasp, as the blackened fog exited from his mouth and transformed to an apparition in front of him.

The newly entered crowd stood paralyzed, watching the unbelievable sight. 

Not only was this an ability that none of them had ever seen or heard of, but it worked on Dazai. The shock was even bigger as the apparition turned more and more recognizable.

Even Mori was stunned.

It was Dazai.

[leio13]

Soukoku Drabble

AKA where Dazai leaves the mafia, and Chuuya has to clean his belongings out of Dazai’s old apartment (an AU in which they had been dating before Dazai’s betrayal).

Inspired by @soiledsorrow. Thanks for the prompt!

Chuuya wanted to kick the door down. After all, fuck Dazai and his stupid apartment. But he couldn’t. It was mafia property, and as soon as he moved out all of the bandage freak’s possessions, it would no longer be Dazai’s. He hated Dazai, not the unfortunate guy who’d move into this shithole after him.

After years of watching Dazai unlock the impossible, Chuuya had become mediocrely skilled at unlocking doors. Of course, this wasn’t necessary because the bastard had left the apartment unlocked. He knew Chuuya would come to clear out his belongings. Maybe he didn’t know it would be Chuuya, but he knew someone would come, and in all honesty, he probably knew it would be Chuuya. Somehow the shithead always knew these things. Chuuya would not have been surprised if a note was waiting for him somewhere in the apartment. It’d probably say something like, “Dear hatrack, it just wasn’t meant to be. Hopefully, we’ll never see each other again ‘cause I’ll be dead,” signed off with the most obnoxious, definitely not endearing, little smiley face next to his name. If said note did exist, Chuuya didn’t want to read it, didn’t want to see it, didn’t want to be here.

Yet here he was, standing in Dazai’s living area. The TV was off, and the room was uncomfortably silent. Chuuya didn’t like it. Dazai’s apartment had always been loud, filled with the sound of bickering and flirtation. Chuuya hummed to himself to ease the pain.

The couch pillows were slightly wrinkled, but the chair looked untouched. It probably was. Chuuya had never seen Dazai sit in it. The display shelves on the wall only displayed dust. There had never been anything there. The coffee table served nothing. It never had. Occasionally, it found unintended purpose as a footstool, but generally, it had no reason to exist in the small apartment. Most things in there had no reason to exist. Not even Dazai.

Chuuya moved to the kitchen. A steak knife lay haphazardly on the counter. Chuuya threw it in the sink. Then he remembered that Dazai wouldn’t return to the apartment to put it away. Dazai wasn’t coming back. That was the whole reason Chuuya was in his dumb apartment anyway. Putting the knife away himself, Chuuya spotted in the corner of his vision the sake-shaped cookie jar he had bought Dazai several months ago. They had completely forgot to use it until a month ago when Dazai decided he wanted to bake sake-flavored cookies. Chuuya twisted off the lid; a few cookies remained inside. Curiously, he took one out and put it in his mouth. It was hard to chew, and the sake flavor was disgustingly potent. Chuuya waited in misery during the few minutes it took for the cookie to soften so he could break it between his teeth and swallow it for good. There was nothing, however, that he could do about the lingering taste in his mouth.

Chuuya’s next stop was the bathroom. He didn’t expect to find anything personal in there, making it the safest room in the apartment. He immediately opened the cabinet under the sink, pulling out stacks of bandage rolls that Dazai left behind. What a fucking waste. The bastard should have at least taken these shitty rolls with him. Chuuya considered donating them to one of the Mafia hospitals, but the thought of carrying a truckload of bandages around on his way there made the idea lose its appeal. It seemed that the bandages would end up as wasteful garbage in the end. They reminded him of his time with Dazai--something else he needed to throw out.

Chuuya peeked in the shower next. The air lacked it’s signature humidity, probably because nobody had used it in several days. The faint scent of chocolate and hazelnuts, Dazai’s shampoo, wafted through the area instead. For a moment, Chuuya (perhaps unfortunately) forgot about the dry sake cookies. Instead he thought of the softness of Dazai’s brown hair when he ran his fingers through it, and the way it tickled his nose when Dazai was sitting and Chuuya planted a kiss on the top of his head.

Fuck. Chuuya tossed the shampoo bottle (which he had apparently picked up during his nostalgic trance) back into the shower. He eagerly left the room, the sake flavor just as eagerly resuming its initial potency.

The last stop was the bedroom. After the shampoo incident, Chuuya wondered if he could manage his final task. He shook his head. He hated Dazai. He absolutely hated him, so he’d have no difficulty at all. Yet he was breathing heavily when he pushed open the door. He felt dizzy stepping through the doorway and found himself using the undecorated white walls to stay standing. He didn’t dare look towards the center of the room where the bed was. Dazai’s bed, a place so familiar to him, he could imagine it clearly without looking, and that was bad enough. He didn’t dare look at the real thing where Dazai wasn’t and wouldn’t be. Hurriedly, he dragged his feet to the desk. In the first drawer, he found a note. His common sense told him he shouldn’t read it, but he was too curious. Just what did that shithead have to say to him?

It turned out nothing at all. It was a will. Chuuya’s name wasn’t even in it. Nor was anyone else’s. In his will, Dazai had requested all his belongings simply be given away to whoever could want such sorry things. It was so short and indifferent that Chuuya wondered if Dazai actually cared at all what happened to his belongings or if this will was merely an obligation he eagerly wrote up, hoping death would come soon after. Chuuya wondered if Dazai viewed the entire world that way, even Chuuya himself.

With a sigh, Chuuya gathered the small amount of garbage he had unproductively collected and headed for the exit. For the last time, he, too, left the apartment with the determination to never return.