Work Text:
Chuuya Nakahara didn’t dream. For him, waking up was like a bubble emerging from within mud.
For the first time in his life, Chuuya was glad of that fact.
Sleep used to be something he dreaded—something he only did out of necessity. What was the point of sleeping for long hours when it just felt like dredging through mud? He'd rather be out doing everything he could to beat Shitty Dazai and become an executive before him.
But after everything that happened, he welcomed the suffocating mud where he didn’t have to deal with his feelings. It was better than facing reality.
A small part of him told himself he should get up—that the flags wouldn't want him to waste away. His heart hurt at the thought of his friends. He'd lost them right as he finally accepted them for that. They'd done so much for him, and look how it ended.
Chuuya should be angry, and he was, but there was nothing he could do about it.
He knew exactly where the person who killed them was. He could go down and confront Verlaine, get his revenge or scream, and hate him for what he did. But deep down, he knew he couldn't truly blame his brother. The only one at fault here was himself. Even Adam confirmed it. The flags were dead, and there was no one to blame but him.
Verlaine killed them to get Chuuya to leave the Port Mafia. If they had never befriended him, then they would still be alive, would still be getting drunk and having dumb billiards competitions.
Instead, they rest in the cold ground—in graves that Chuuya had been too much of a coward to go visit.
He knew he should, knew he owed it to them, but once Verlaine had been taken down, he couldn't bring himself to do anything other than lay in bed. Even the thought of Dazai being out there and getting closer to becoming an executive wasn't enough to pull him from his bed and out of his apartment.
Chuuya felt his eyelids grow heavy and relaxed at the thought of drifting into unconsciousness. He almost laughed at the irony. Who thought sleep would have ever seemed so comforting? He was ready to submerge himself in the mud where his feelings couldn't reach him.
A loud knocking sound pulled him back to reality, keeping him from sleep. Chuuya glanced in the direction of the door, but stayed in bed, staring up at the ceiling, hoping that whoever was trying to bother him would get the hint and go away.
Looking at his ceiling only made him think of Albatross. He'd found the constant noise coming from his apartment above infuriating, especially considering it had almost all been intentional… but lying there, Chuuya would have given anything to hear him intentionally drop something just one more time.
The knocking continued a moment later, and Chuuya felt his heart leap as he thought for just a moment that maybe his wish had been answered before he realized that it had come from the wrong direction. He rolled over, using his pillow to cover his ears as he stared at the wall. It didn't fully muffle the sound, but it was good enough. He let himself zone out. Either the person would give up and leave or they wouldn't, but Chuuya didn't care either way.
"Chuuuuuuya!" An obnoxious and familiar voice rang through his apartment, drawing him from his haze and making his eye twitch. Of course, the bastard wouldn't have read the room and accepted the locked door with Chuuya ignoring him as a sign to stay away. Or rather, he had read it and just didn't care enough to follow it.
A bony body flopped on top of Chuuya, whining dramatically. "Are you done being all mopey? Work is so boring without you." Dazai poked Chuuya's cheek. "No one else is nearly as fun to annoy."
He poked him again.
"Their reactions are so dull.”
Another poke.
"None of them get that twitchy vein on your forehead."
Chuuya turned, glaring at Dazai.
"Yes! That's the one! So thoughtful of you to provide an example, Chibi!" Dazai beamed.
Chuuya shoved him off the bed.
"If I'd have known letting you get tortured was going to make you this pissy, I would have rescued you sooner." Dazai huffed, not bothering to stand up from where he'd landed on the ground.
"It wasn't the torture," He said, glaring at Dazai, his voice raspy, more so than usual from disuse. He hadn't spoken since they took Verlaine into custody.
Dazai examined his nails with disinterest. "Oh, right. You were attached to that little group of friends?" He looked up at Chuuya, his uncovered eye not showing the slightest trace of emotion. "You guys had some dumb name, didn't you? What is with you and groups with dumb names? First, the sheep, now the flags. Really, it's embar—"
Chuuya flung himself from the bed, landing on Dazai as he punched him. "Shut. Up," He hissed. He couldn't do this right now, couldn't handle Dazai making fun of them. Not with the loss being so fresh.
Dazai just blinked up at him impassively. It made Chuuya want to smack him again. "Seems I touched a nerve."
He shoved Dazai, not that it did much since he was still partially on top of him. "Get out."
"Kinda hard to do that when you're sitting on my lap." Dazai raised an eyebrow. Chuuya glared but got off of Dazai, grabbing him by the collar of his shirt and pulling him up with him.
"Fuck off." He dragged Dazai out of his bedroom and toward the door to his apartment. If he refused to leave, Chuuya would just make him. If Dazai kept trying after that, maybe Chuuya could throw him off his balcony. The bastard would probably somehow survive—scrappy asshole that he was—but maybe some broken limbs would keep him away.
"You know, for someone so small, you sure do weigh a ton. It was like my legs were being crushed!" Dazai complained as Chuuya pulled him along.
"'T's not my fault you got toothpicks for legs." He opened the door and dumped Dazai into the hallway. "And shut up about my height already, asshole. I'm still growing!"
He slammed the door closed, leaning against it as he slid to the floor with a sigh. He tilted his head back, resting it against the wood, just for something to slam against it from the other side, right where his head was.
"What the fuck, Dazai?!"
He jumped to his feet, throwing open the door again to reveal Dazai, hopping up and down on one foot while clutching his other in his hand. "Chuuuya!! Why'd your door have to go and be so solid? That hurt!" He whined.
Chuuya blinked at him, unimpressed. Dazai glanced at him and, upon seeing his expression, draped himself over Chuuya's shoulders. "Chuuya! I think my toe is broken. I can't go on!"
"And that's my problem, how?" He asked, shoving Dazai off his shoulders and letting him fall to a crumpled heap on the floor of the hallway.
"But Chuuuya! It was your door that hurt me, which means you have to take care of me! Otherwise, I'll wither away into nothingness!"
"Perfect, go do that." Chuuya shut the door in Dazai's face, locked it, and then used his ability to move his couch from his living room to the entryway to block the door. He didn't trust Dazai to not just pick the lock again, but hopefully, this would be enough to deter him.
He flopped onto the couch, not caring enough to make it back to his bedroom. The apartment stayed blissfully silent for a few moments, just long enough for Chuuya to start to hope that maybe the bandaged bastard had given up and gone home.
Chuuya should have known better.
He heard the lock click and what was probably the sound of Dazai trying to push open the door. That only lasted a moment before the hall fell silent again. Just as quickly, the silence was ruined.
"Chuuuuuuya." Dazai's obnoxious voice whined from the other side of the door, accompanied by rapid knocking that did not stop once it started.
"Chuuuuya."
"Chuuya."
"Chuuuuuuuya."
"Chuuya."
"Chuuya."
"Chuuuuya."
Chuuya's eyebrow twitched. He got off the couch, floated it back to its original position, and threw open the door. "For fucks sake, what is wrong with you?" Chuuya glared down at Dazai, who was in the same crumpled heap on the floor that Chuuya had left him in, the only difference being the hand that was reached out to knock on the door.
"I already told you!" Dazai huffed petulantly. "Chibi's stupid door broke my toe. I couldn't possibly move with this grievous of an injury."
Chuuya raised an unimpressed eyebrow. He'd seen Dazai walk just fine after being shot multiple times. He was tempted to slam the door in his face but knew Dazai was stubborn enough to stay there, knocking and repeating his name for as long as it took for Chuuya to snap and give in.
He stepped out of the way, leaving the doorway empty. "Fine. Get your ass in here."
"I knew Chuuya was stupid, but I didn't realize he was so dumb," Dazai said, not moving from his position on the floor. "I can't walk like this!"
Chuuya groaned but crouched down and picked up Dazai, haphazardly tossing him over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes. He carried Dazai into his apartment, slamming the door behind him.
Dazai braced his hands on Chuuya's lower back and pushed himself up to where he was still hanging upside down, just slightly less so. "If Chuuya wanted me to look at his ass, he could have just told me." He grinned.
"Fuck off." Chuuya lifted Dazai's legs and let go so he would fall face-first off his shoulder.
Dazai yelped as he hit the ground, using his hands to at least partially break his fall. "Chibi! That hurt!" He pouted, glaring up at him.
"Cry about it." He went to walk back to his room, intending to hide away in there again, when Dazai's hand shot out and grabbed onto his ankle, nearly tripping him. He glared down at him. "Dazai, let go."
"But Chuuya! I need medical attention. Even more so now!" Dazai insisted. He held his wrist up limply, his hand flopping down. "See! You broke my wrist now, too!"
Chuuya looked at him, unimpressed. He groaned, knowing Dazai was just going to keep bitching and moaning until he gave in. He crouched back down, grabbing one of Dazai's arms and slinging it over his shoulder so when he stood up again, Dazai was pulled up too. Chuuya carried him toward the kitchen counter and set him on one of the stools there.
He pulled open a drawer and grabbed a bottle of ibuprofen, dumping three pills into his hands. He filled a glass with water, then handed that and the pills to Dazai.
"Take these and quit complaining, ya big baby." He knew the pain medicine wouldn't actually do anything. Dazai had tried to overdose on pills too many times for them to still have any effect on him. Chuuya also knew that Dazai wasn't even in enough actual pain to warrant them, but if it got him to shut up, he didn't care.
Dazai, surprisingly, took the pills without complaint, swallowing all three at once. He even drank the rest of the water without a word.
"Are you actually hurt?" Chuuya asked, slightly concerned. Dazai never was this compliant when Chuuya tried to make him take medicine.
A grin broke out across Dazai's face. "Aww, is my Slug worried about me?" He asked teasingly. He reached across the counter to pat Chuuya's head. "Well, since Chibi's so concerned, I am a bit hungry. Make me some food!"
Chuuya rolled his eyes but opened the refrigerator to see what he had. If Dazai was asking for food, then Chuuya wasn't going to pass up on the opportunity of getting the stupid mackerel to eat without him having to fight for every bite.
His fridge was embarrassingly empty. It wasn't nearly as bad as the one in Dazai's shipping container, but it was far from its usual state. Since he joined the Mafia, he'd learned how to cook proper meals. It wasn't like the sheep had been too poor to have nice meals or anything—they'd actually been rather wealthy. Chuuya just hadn't cared enough to take the time to learn how to make them, not when the sheep had more than enough money to eat out for every meal and preferred to spend their free time at arcades or fighting rival gangs.
"I'll make you food, but it's not gonna be crab," Chuuya said, pulling out some frozen gyoza and setting them on the counter. He grabbed a pan, placed it on the stove, and added some oil to it. He turned on the stove and let the oil heat up for a bit before adding the gyoza.
Dazai began rambling about his day and all the things that annoyed him. Chuuya nodded along, occasionally humming in response to something he said. Once the bottom of the gyoza had browned, he added a small amount of water to the pan and covered it.
While the gyoza steamed, Chuuya grabbed some frozen green beans and began cooking them on the stove next to the gyoza. He added seasoning and butter to the pan to enhance the flavor.
"Chuuuuya, I don't want green beans." Dazai huffed, leaning over the counter to poke Chuuya while he cooked.
"Suck it up," Chuuya replied, checking on the gyoza and removing the lid when he saw the water had fully been absorbed. He let the edges of the gyoza crisp up a bit more, then grabbed two plates and piled each one with gyoza and green beans. Chuuya turned off the stove and carried the plates over to Dazai, grabbing two sets of chopsticks on the way. He set one of the plates and chopsticks in front of Dazai and the other in front of the seat he usually took.
Hunger hit Chuuya like a truck when he sat down in front of his plate. He became painfully aware of just how many meals he had skipped while he was rotting in his room. He took a bite of his gyoza and watched Dazai do the same.
"It's okay, I suppose," Dazai hummed, taking another bite. Chuuya rolled his eyes but smiled at the words. He was always proud when someone enjoyed his cooking.
They ate in relative silence, occasionally bumping shoulders as they ate. After Dazai had finished all his gyoza and even most of his green beans, he draped himself over Chuuya's shoulders and began fiddling with his hair. It was loose around his shoulders instead of in the small ponytail he usually wore it in.
"Ugh, Slug, your hair's a mess," Dazai whined. "I know you're my dog, but I thought you'd be able to at least bathe yourself."
Chuuya shoved him off his shoulders. "It's not that bad." He ran his fingers through his hair, and it was pretty greasy, but Dazai was one to talk. Chuuya had to force him to shower tons of times before when his depression got bad.
"What would Kouyou think if she saw you like this," Dazai tsked. He pulled on Chuuya's arm. "C'mon Dog! Time for your bath!"
"How many times do I have to tell you? I'm not your dog," Chuuya huffed, pulling his arm out of Dazai's grip. If he stood after being told to, that had nothing to do with Dazai. He just really did need a bath. Undeterred, Dazai moved behind Chuuya and pushed on his back, steering him through his room and into the bathroom that was attached.
Once in the bathroom, Dazai grabbed the bottom of Chuuya's shirt and yanked it up, pulling it off in a smooth motion. "Dazai! What the fuck?" Chuuya yelped. It wasn't like he was a stranger to nudity. He and Dazai had taken care of each other and bandaged enough of each other's wounds to not view nudity as something purely sexual, but he still hadn't been expecting it. "I can shower myself."
Dazai dropped the shirt on the floor with a laugh. "If Chibi insists!" He turned around and left the bathroom, closing the door behind him. Chuuya turned on the shower, letting the water heat up as he stripped the rest of the way.
The water felt nice, and he didn't know why he'd been putting this off for so long. He wanted to stay in there forever, but the thought of Dazai running around his apartment unsupervised made him move quickly as he washed his hair and body.
Ten minutes later, he walked out of the bathroom with a towel wrapped around his waist and another draped over his shoulders. He blinked when he saw the state his room was in. His bed was made, and the clothes that had been scattered around the floor were missing. So was his laundry basket. He walked into his closet and found the dirty clothes missing from there as well.
Had Dazai done this? Obviously, it couldn’t have been someone else, but he’d never thought Dazai would willingly clean—especially for someone else. The thought made him smile.
He changed into a pair of soft pajama pants and a shirt that he was pretty sure had been Dazai's at one point. He walked out of the closet, looking for Dazai. He heard a noise coming from his small laundry room and used the towel to dry his hair, being less careful with it than he usually was as he walked in that direction.
Dazai was pressing buttons on the washing machine with a look of concentration on his face. He turned to Chuuya when he heard him walk in. "Ugh, Chuuya's washing machine is so annoying! It makes no sense."
Chuuya laughed, checking to make sure Dazai had added the detergent before setting it to the correct settings and pressing start. Nothing happened for a moment, and then the sound of water pouring into the machine filled the small room.
"Chuuya!" Dazai looked at him in amazement. "Maybe there is a brain in that teensy slug head after all!" He gushed.
Chuuya rolled his eyes and pushed Dazai out of the small room. "No, you're just an idiot," Chuuya said, laughing at the pout his words elicited from Dazai.
He pushed Dazai toward the living room, ignoring the grumbles from the taller teen as they went. He shoved him onto the couch and then sat on the floor, leaning against Dazai's legs. Dazai huffed at the treatment but ran his fingers through Chuuya's wet hair.
"Chuuya should let me braid it." Dazai hummed. Chuuya turned to him with a look of surprise on his face.
"You know how to braid hair?" He asked. Dazai nodded.
"I got bored and taught myself." He shrugged.
"Oh," Chuuya blinked and turned forward again. "Yeah, you can braid it."
Chuuya closed his eyes as Dazai began braiding his hair. He was surprisingly gentle with it, and Chuuya found himself relaxing into the touch.
Dazai had almost finished the first braid when he spoke. "I'm sorry about your friends," he said softly, and Chuuya was surprised by how genuine he sounded. Chuuya felt his eyes sting at the reminder of them and was glad Dazai couldn't see his face.
"We're in the Mafia. People die." Chuuya said quietly, pulling his knees to his chest. He didn't want to think about it but did at the same time. "But I always saw them as sorta untouchable."
Chuuya sucked in a breath, focusing on the feeling of Dazai's fingers starting the second braid to steady himself. "Their deaths were bad, Dazai. I- I've seen death before. Hell, I saw you shoot a body a dozen times back when we first met, but this..." He trailed off, exhaling shakily.
"Albatross was still alive when I got there. I don't know how he hadn't died yet—I could literally see his ribcage—but he'd somehow managed to hold on. He was holding onto Doc. He knew it was too late for himself, but made me promise to save Doc." Chuuya felt the tears in his eyes spill over his cheeks
"I told him I would. I wanted him to feel at least a little peace when he died, but there was nothing I could do for Doc. He was already gone. He was just a torso. I don't even know where his legs were." A painful tug on his hair made him inhale sharply. His head hurt, and he realized he'd been hyperventilating. He inhaled shakily and slowly exhaled, trying to get his breathing to return to normal.
"Sorry," Dazai said softly. Chuuya knew the hair tug had been intentional, so he leaned back against Dazai's legs to show that he appreciated it.
"The worst part is knowing it was my fault." Chuuya continued, keeping his breaths more steady.
Dazai tugged on his hair again. Chuuya wanted to turn and glare at him but kept looking forward so he wouldn't mess up the braid. "What was that for?" He huffed.
"Chibi's being stupid," Dazai said simply. "It wasn't your fault."
Chuuya laughed derisively. "Yeah, sure. Adam agreed it was, and he's literally a genius AI super-computer thing." He glared at the ground in front of him. "If they hadn't befriended me, then they wouldn't have died."
"It wasn't your fault," Dazai insisted. "They wanted to be your friends. And even before that, It was Mori who told them to keep an eye on you." Chuuya didn't question how Dazai knew that. He was always finding out things he wasn’t meant to know. "If you want to blame someone, blame him. Or blame Verlaine since he was the one who actually killed them."
Dazai tied off the second braid and rested his hands on Chuuya's shoulders. "And I doubt your friends would want you blaming yourself," he added. "Not that I know anything about having friends, but yours seemed like the obnoxiously noble type to not want you to be obsessing over your death for the rest of your life." He shrugged.
Chuuya nodded and tried to make himself believe Dazai's words. It didn't really work, but he did feel slightly lighter. He stood up, sitting on the couch and leaning against Dazai. Dazai kept an arm wrapped around him, gently rubbing Chuuya's arm with his hand.
"One of your friends was an Actor, right?" Dazai asked as if he didn't already know the answer. "Wanna watch one of his movies?"
Chuuya nodded, barely moving his head. Dazai reached over and grabbed the remote, turning on the TV. "Which one? Or do you want me to choose?"
Chuuya thought about it and then told Dazai the name of one of Lippmann's tragedies so that if he cried, he could blame it on the movie being sad. Dazai didn't say anything about his choice; he just turned it on.
The movie started, and Chuuya rested his head on Dazai's shoulder as he watched. His eyes filled with tears again when Lippmann came on screen. He didn't try to stop them from spilling over, and he was grateful when Dazai didn't say anything about the tears soaking his shirt.
He expected teasing again when he began to sniffle, but Dazai only passed him a tissue without a word.
About halfway through the movie, Dazai moved them so they were lying down on the couch with Chuuya on his chest. He trailed his fingers in soft circles over Chuuya's back, watching him instead of the TV.
Chuuya's quiet tears turned to sobs when Lippman's character died on screen. Dazai pulled him close, holding his shaking body tight against his chest. He continued to rub his back, whispering soft nothings in Chuuya's ear until the sobs trailed off.
Chuuya stayed like that until after the movie ended. He didn't want to move forward without the Flags. He wasn't sure he even knew how to, but he felt slightly more confident that he'd be able to.
"Hey, Osamu," He whispered.
"Yeah?"
"Will you visit them with me tomorrow?" The idea had seemed so daunting earlier in the day, but the way Dazai’s arms were wrapped around him made it seem easier.
“Of course,” Dazai said, softly kissing the top of Chuuya's head.