Chapter Text
This fic was initially inspired by this prompt.
I.
Dazai liked to call it "that one time".
Chuuya had to give it to Dazai - really - because for someone who just basically forced a god on his knees, the bastard was surprisingly nonchalant about it, as if he didn't just have Arahabaki crawling back to Chuuya a few days after having Dazai as his vessel, whining about he couldn't take it anymore and how he'd prefer a pretentious chibi than that "abomination" of a body.
Chuuya already kind of knew that Dazai was an asshole.
He just didn't know to which extent.
Arahabaki wouldn't talk, Dazai wouldn't talk, but one thing was for sure:
Whatever happened during his stay, Arahabaki seems to have been traumatized to the point of shutting up whenever Chuuya was near Dazai, and while it's a pain to deal with one asshole for the sake avoiding another, Chuuya always hated the god inside of him rather than the demon in front of him.
Chuuya liked to think it was a pretty tough choice.
You're making a mistake, human. It's not me you should be worried about -
"Chibi, what are you doing spacing out? We're going to be late ~ "
Fuck, he's here.
Just like that, the god inside Chuuya's body retreated, and choosing Dazai couldn't have been simpler.
II.
“You know, chibi, I think you misinterpreted what shachou said about a temporary ceasefire.” Dazai noted, while Chuuya settled on the bastard’s couch.
“You don’t see me firing anything, do you?” Came Chuuya’s tired reply, because it’s been years since he’d known silence in his head, with the god retreating in the presence of a certain mackerel.
“That doesn’t give you permission to trespass in my house, drink my wine, and monopolize my speakers.”
It was only until Dazai pointed it out that Chuuya realized the glass of cheap wine he held in his hands, of Franz Liszt put on shuffle using Chuuya’s spotify – that, and the fact that Chuuya was lounging in the bastard’s pathetic excuse of a living room, instead of his VIP suite in the most expensive hotel in Yokohama.
“I can buy this place ten times over,” Chuuya spat back, expect the words lacked its intended bite. He could barely even keep his eyes open, and at this point he mostly just wondered how he could get a softer couch shipped as soon as possible, because Dazai clearly didn’t understand a thing about comfort and furniture.
“You can,” Dazai’s voice echoed somewhere from the kitchen – doing God knows what, Chuuya didn’t know – “but you’ll never be able to buy it with me in it.”
If Chuuya hadn’t come from a dreadfully tiring day (read: another building gone, at least a dozen people dead, and a trade deal gone wrong), he would’ve had enough sense to haul his ass out and take the hint that he wasn’t welcome – preferably before he actually processes the words and feel things.
But he didn’t, so he just had to say, “How much for me to buy you, then?”
Chuuya was past the point of caring whether his words were slurred, but he was conscious enough to watch as the bastard drape a sack – no, a blanket – all over Chuuya's body, a soft smile in his face as he said:
“For you, chibi? You can have me for free.”
III.
Under no circumstances are you to initiate contact with that man.
"Fuck off. You're not the boss of me."
Of course not. I'm your god.
"I'm an atheist."
And yet you pray to me in times of need.
"That's not praying. I'm summoning you. You may be a god but you're still bound to your vessel, aren't you?"
Demons are summoned. Gods are called upon. Know the difference.
"Fine. And since we're talking about demons, should I go ahead and summon one?"
No. Absolutely not.
"Oi, shitty Dazai!"
You can't do this to me mortal -
"Yes, chibi ~"
Please I'll do anything you want, I'll stay, I'll heel, I'll bark or even shake hands -
"...you have to promise me, first. Say you won't be bothering me for two weeks. I need you to leave me the fuck alone."
No way. You ask for the impossible -
"Someone wants to talk to you, Dazai!"
Fine, fine! Two weeks! Just - Just get me away from that fucking man!
"Chibi, there's no one here ~"
...I'll make it three weeks.
"Nah, it was bullshit. You're an idiot for coming all this way. "
"You're lucky I'm in a good mood today, hat rack. Or else - "
"Or else what."
"Nothing! Nothing ~"
"..."
Is he gone?
"Yeah."
Good riddance.
"...wow. That bad, huh?"
You don't get any say in this, mortal. You have no idea what that abomination has put me through -
"Oh, yeah? You''ve had to deal with him for five days, Arahabaki. I had to put up with his shit for years. You're the one who doesn't get any fucking say about this."
IV.
“If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you’re attached to me.” Dazai grinned, and Chuuya had to bite his lip from letting out a curse.
“Dazai, I’m literally tied up with you,” Chuuya gritted out, voice strained, because their captors were using thicker ropes and even tighter knots, as if wanting to prove a point.
It’s gonna be a piece of cake, Dazai had said, moments before a dark figure had thrown over a sack over his head, then Chuuya’s.
If Chuuya was on his own and someone so much as dared touch a hair on his body, perhaps his captors would’ve already been obliterated – their insides scattered all over the alleys like graffiti.
Having Dazai with him was a different story.
This was the first time the bastard allowed Chuuya to be captured with him – after years of sticking with the usual princess rescue strategy – so Chuuya would be lying if he said he wasn’t at least a bit thrilled.
“I don’t see why you need me in on this,” Chuuya murmured, his back against the mackerel’s as the two of them slumped on the cold cellar. He knew better than to expect anything really, because for all he knew he’d have been brought here to be Dazai’s joke –
“You’ve been avoiding me.” Dazai murmured, tone serious for once, and while Chuuya couldn’t see his face, he could feel the his muscles tense up.
You waste your time for a useless partner. Replace him.
“No, I haven’t. I’ve been busy.”
You would follow him to the ends of the world, and he wouldn’t even bat an eyelid.
“You can stop lying to me, chibi. I know your schedule. Not that I investigated on you or anything - "
"You can just say that you're stalking me. I won't judge."
"It's not stalking! It's just - look, I know you haven’t been doing anything for the past week.”
All he does is bring you trouble, Arahabaki had said, a few days after ‘that one time’ he’d been inside Dazai’s head.
Dazai couldn’t see Chuuya’s face, but the redhead figured he wouldn’t need body language to know when Chuuya was lying.
“Arahabaki says you’re nothing but trouble,” Chuuya said out loud, opting for the truth.
Both of them already knew it anyway, so what else could Chuuya lose?
“…and do you believe him?”
Chuuya glanced down at his body – of this fucked-up situation he didn’t even ask to be in.
“I think he’s right.”
There as the sound of heavy footsteps, and Chuuya figured that it must be their captors, finally checking up on them. Still no reply from Dazai.
“He also said I should stay away from you,” Chuuya finally confessed, because while he couldn’t care less about the mackerel wondering why Chuuya was suddenly out of reach, he couldn’t have shit like this weighing down his chest.
“…and what did you say?” Came Dazai’s soft question, so soft it might’ve been a whisper.
“I told him also he got that right, but being right isn't enough to make him my boss, ”Chuuya grinned, as the cell doors burst open.
V.
I’m glad to be back, Chuuya.
“Quit acting like you missed me. I heard you begged Dazai so he would switch back with me.”
Begging is quite the strong word, Chuuya. I believe the word you're looking for is ‘bargained’.
“A few days inside his head and you already sound like him.”
I don’t speak mortal, human.
“And yet here you are.”
…He’s not what I imagined, I suppose.
“What do you mean?”
I would rather have you, a pretentious chibi, as my vessel for the end of time over that abomination of the body.
“What does that mean, pretentious chibi?”
Apparently, it’s the only thing me and that monster could agree on.
“I’m not pretentious!”
No, that you’re a chibi.
VI.
"Ne, Dazai. What's your secret?"
The detective looked up at Chuuya through those ridiculously long lashes, and Chuuya couldn't have been more pissed. Sure, it's not like the bastard had just woken up from a nap or something.
It's already five in the afternoon and both of them had already finished their reports, which left an untouched iced americano at the table, a half-eaten cake, and the golden Yokohama sunset they could see all the way through restaurant.
"I have a lot of secrets, chibi." Dazai stretched out his hands, the sounds of joints clicking into place as he yawned. He fixed Chuuya with a lazy stare. "You're going to have to be more specific than that."
You fool! The god inside him hissed, almost like a cat. You can't just ask -
"Right now Arahabaki is pissing himself trying to stop me from asking questions." Chuuya admitted, left eye twitching as a flash of pain went through his head - a small bit of retribution from their godly friend. "I want you to tell me the one thing he doesn't want me to hear."
For a moment Dazai just stared at him, at loss of words. It was no secret that Chuuya despised his ability (and the god that came with it), but even then Chuuya always secretly relished the idea of being to control it, just like Dazai did with a touch of his hand.
"Oh, it's not because he doesn't want you to hear it, Chuuya." Dazai suddenly said, hands shooting up towards Chuuya and - oh. The shitty mackerel was just patting his head.
The shitty mackerel was patting his head but God Chuuya would much rather lean into the touch than resist - because his head juat hurt that much.
"What do you mean?" A lame attempt to swat the hand away, with no avail.
"It's him who doesn't want to hear it. Because he refused to accept it."
Blasphemy! He twists my words and uses it to -
"What? He can't accept what?" Chuuya tried not to sound desperate, but it probably showed, the way Dazai looked at him with such disdain, as if trying to see through the god buried inside him.
"What a god needs is a mortal who worships him," Daza leaned down, meeting Chuuya at-eye level. "I don't believe in gods, chibi. Nor have I done anything close to worship."
VII.
You need to get a new partner, Chuuya. I don't trust him one bit.
"And since when do I give a fuck about what you think?"
This isn't a suggestion, mortal. I'm demanding you to do it.
"Wow, for a moment I was about to consider, but now it's cancelled."
Why do you refuse my help, mortal? This is for your own safety!
"...I'm an executive to the city's worst criminal organization, Arahabaki. I'm plenty sure that if anyone needs help, it wouldn't be me."
You'll be screaming for anyone once you saw what goes through that wretched man's head.
"...what did you see?"
Terrible things. Things that could make men of your caliber retch in disgust, and even I, as a god, clench his teeth -
"...I knew it."
Knew what?
"It's okay. The inside of that bastard's mind is a terrible, filthy place.”
Indeed it is.
“You think this is why Corruption doesn’t work on him? Because he’s already a corrupted piece of shit?”
You don't understand, Chuuya. This more than about images of you I can never unsee -
"There are images of me?"
Listen to me mortal you don't understand what's at stake -
"Tell me, Arahabaki. What did I look like? What was I doing? Was I naked?"
VIII.
It was exactly as Chuuya thought it would be.
That one fateful day, when the rogue Ability user had smiled towards Chuuya like he knew exactly when the world was going to end - Chuuya should've known that something bigger was at play, something much worse that thirty of their men down because of one pesky ability. Chuuya had glanced at Dazai, whose eyes were as wide as the gap he'd just created with a flick of his hand, and Chuuya felt energy cackling in the air - an ominous force much worse than the traces of Corruption.
Blue light flickered in his hands where there should've been red, and that's how he knew that the god inside of him was just gone, with No Longer Human flickering in its stead. Chuuya thought it was the first time he'd seen Dazai sport a look of such terror, it was almost believable.
"You're blue," Daazi whispered, voice barely audible.
"You're red." Chuuya gritted out, mostly because he was seeing red, unabable to beliebe that of all the powers he was going to get, it just had to be the mackerel's.
Dazai referred to it as 'that one time', but Chuuya would never forget how Dazai weilded corruption like having a god inside of him wasn't the problem - it's just that he and the god were inhabiting the same space. It didn't make Dazai any less sane, or any less of the calculated bastard he always was - if anything, his reddish brown eyes, which used to look to dead, blazed with life like power was meant to be there, all this time.
Can you imagine the things we can do, with that demon as your pet? Arahabaki once asked, back when he still occupied Chuuya's body. It was one of the things the god liked to consider - aside from the constant whining of why Chuuya couldn't be a more formidable vessel - and Chuuya met him with the same reply, over and over:
He's not someone you can keep.
Of course, Chuuya had no way of knowing that Dazai would defect the Port Mafia some time later, but that statement couldn't have been any less truer, back then and even now.
"I wonder why I can do it without chanting," Dazai said out of the blue, much to Chuuya's dismay.
"What do you mean, chanting?"
Daazi shrugged. "You know, that chunni thing you do before you activate corruption. You take of your gloves, go all serious and dark and shit, then you chant: O grantors of dark - "
"Don't even say it out loud, you fool!" Chuuya yelped, slapping a hand over the bastard's mouth. "And it's not chuuni, you dumb shit! I just have to do it, okay! It's not like I asked - "
It’s not like I asked for any of this, was what Chuuya wanted to say, but he had to admit that he was curious: while he would miss that familiar red glow that went well with his outfit, he could certainly think of the one voice he’d do well without.
Dazai called it 'that one time', but it was the only time Chuuya started hope he would ever have peace.
IX.
Such brutality and ruthlessness. He would make a great vessel.
"He doesn't do puppets, Arahabaki. He plays them."
Don't you ever wonder what goes inside his head?
"...fuck do I know. It's probably filled with useless things like more suicide techniques and nsfw shit."
His predictions are never wrong, Chuuya. Have you ever wondered why that is?
"..."
Knowledge is power, Chuuya.
"Are you implying that I'm dumb?"
No, what I'm trying to say is -
"Screw you. You know what? Since you think he's so smart, I wish you'd spend a day inside that bastard's body. Let's see how long you last before you crawl back at me."
We'll have taken over the whole world by then.
"...As if you'll ever get to do that."
Oh, we will.
"There's no 'we' when it comes to that shitty Dazai. It's only ever him, him, and him."
Wrong. You forget one thing.
"No, I didn't."
There's him...and there's you.
X.
"Ne, Dazai, do you remember that one time?" Chuuya tried, adjusting his gloves.
"We have a lot of 'one time's, chibi. You're going to have to be more specific than that." Dazai hacked away at the enemy computer, bypassing all locks and security in record time. Chuuya couldn't see the look on his face, but he could tell that the bastard knew what he was talking about, but being the shit he was - still waited for Chuuya to say it outright.
Chuuya took a deep breath, knowing this would be another headache coming.
"That time we swapped abilities," Chuuya recalled, eyes trained at the ceiling. "You were with Arahabaki for almost a week, right? He wouldn't talk what happened during those days."
"And why would I tell you that?" The room was silent except for the sound of keyboard and the familiar hum of the air-conditioning. Chuuya struggled to find a decent reply.
Because he's never been that silent, Chuuya wanted to say.
Because he keeps calling you names and telling me not to come near you ever again, Chuuya wanted to say.
He says you shouldn't even be on this world, Chuuya wanted to say.
"Because he said you two would've conquered the world," Chuuya said instead, fiddling with his own locks. "But then he didn't."
Dazai chuckled, a clear, soft sound that reminded Chuuya of the soft pit-patter of rain.
"I would've conquered the world on my own, chibi. But not for him."
His mind is a terrible place. No wonder he desires death so badly.
"...what's stopping you, then?" Chuuya blurted out, because evn back then he kept wondering why Dazai wouldn't just take the place of Boss, if he wanted to. Wondered why he ever stuck with Chuuya as a partner, when he didn't have to.
"Do you want to conquer the world, chibi? "
"Not really."
"Then there's your answer."
XI.
"That was fast." Chuuya stared at the Ability user, all tied-up and beat. He wondered whether he should feel sad or elated.
Pity was definitely out of the list, considering all the trouble they went through finding him. Not that Chuuya was particularly itchy to get his powers back (he was still the best Martial Artist in the Port Mafia, after all) but he had to admit that Dazai's ability was a pain, consideirng how Chuuya never got to use it for anything.
Astonishingly enough, it was Dazai who hauled the man into the headquarters, devoid of any instructions or pleading from Chuuya. The bastard had actually went out on his own and hunted the rogue Gifted, demanding them to switch back their powers, because apparently the god inside him was begging for it.
Arahabaki doesn't beg, Chuuya huffed, because if he had to hear one more story about how Dazai did a much better job at taming the god -
"What an abomination you are," the Gifted spat out, blood streaming down off his chipped tooth. "Even a god is repulsed to be inside that wretched body."
Dazai's face was a mask of calm, unbothered with the fact that he was being talked down by a mere grunt. It was Chuuya's turn to clench his fists.
Sure, he'd hated Dazai (to what extent, Chuuya didn't even know), but to think that someone could talk so much shit in front of the same man who toppled entire organizations with a snap of his fingers (or a word of the mouth), it was more than insulting.
Not to mention uncalled for, because if Dazai was a useless shit, that what did that make Chuuya?
"You have a lot of nerve, showing up here with that smart mouth." Chuuya held the bastard by the chin, forcing him to look up.
"I didn't show up," the bastard spat. "He dragged me here."
Chuuya whipped towards Dazai, who stood behind him with a smirk, and Chuuya rested easy knowing that the man meant literally.
"I should've run your face through the asphalt for all the trouble you caused," Dazai stepped forward, each step punctuated by a heavy crack on the floor. This time the touch was a carress, and the man visibly shook.
It was a pretty terrifying sight, that much Chuuya knew, and he couldn't blame the man for pissing his pants.
"Give me my power back," Dazai commanded.
"Your power? Is it, really?"
XII.
“He likes me, chibi.”
“Impossible. Arahabaki doesn’t like anyone. Certainly not a shitty mackerel like you.”
“He says he have no use for weaklings like you, who only ever rely on their fists.”
“…so that’s what this is about, huh? You really couldn’t go a day without being a prick.”
“Do you believe him, chibi?”
“Hah?”
“He says that without him, you’re nothing but a pretty face which happened to be good at landing a few kicks. Do you believe him?”
“...do you believe him?”
“I wouldn’t be here with you if I did, would I?”
“Stop lying. You know I’m useless without my ability, and now you’ve come to rub it in.”
“Perhaps, but in the hands of anyone else your ability would’ve been as useful as that little strip of bandage on Tachihara’s nose. A faked injury, maybe.”
“Hey, quit attacking him.”
“But you get my point, don’t you?”
“You had a point? I wasn’t aware.”
“When the time comes, I want you to remember this.”
“I’ll always remember you being a prick, shitty Dazai.”
“Good. Because I’m about to get real worse.”
XIII.
"I don't get it." Chuuya whispered, letting out a whiff of smoke. "You could've been the most powerful ability user in the word - both the brains and the brawn - your own soukoku. But had to ask for that icky nullifying power back."
I don't get why you still need me, were the unspoken words, because try as he might, Chuuya knew that Dazai was pretty much the most powerful on his own, and he didn't even need an ability at that.
. Dazai didn't need abilities for his enemies to fear him.
Dazai didn't need martial arts skills to topple down enemy organizations - he could even get others to do that for him.
All Dazai had was his nullifying ability that wouldn't even work permanently, a twig for a body, a tastless fashion sense and a rat's nest for hair. He didn't even wear a hat. Yet, despite all that, the nullifying ability was a menace in Dazai's hands - a cause of fear in the undergounds of Yokohoma - but for Chuuya...
I even had to go out of my way to touch people. Why can't it just be long-ranged? Now that would be cool.
It was about as useful as the hats Chuuya wore for extra height. Back then, he thought Dazai really got the better end of the deal (after all, he had to switch abilities with the Nakahara Chuuya) but would you look at that - the shitty bastard didn't even last a week.
No, Arahabaki didn't last a week.
"That power wasn't meant to be in your hands, chibi." Dazai sucked on his lollipop with an audible pop, as he turned to Chuuya with lips as red as his eyes. "As much as wished I could get rid of that icky nullifying power, I'm not so terrible of a person to hand it to you."
"Believe me, there's not really much I can do with blue light just glowing off my hands, waiting to touch unsuspecting people." Chuuya spread out his palms, and just like that, no longer human flickered like a portable flashlight.
Then Chuuya's eyes widened, finally realizing this one, crucial fact.
"No wonder you wanted this power. You had to touch people, which is literally the best excuse for a pervert mackerel like you."
"If you say so, chibi." Dazai hummed, a soft smile playing in his lips. Something told Chuuya that it wasn't really the answer the bastard was looking for, but for that moment it was enough.
If you say so.
XIV.
"I'd do exactly as he say, if I were you. He doesn't lie in these kinds of things. He'll really let you go once this is all over."
"You don't fit for the role of good cop, Nakahara-san. Try harder."
"Why the fuck would I have to do anything for you?"
"Ah, that's it. That's the arrogant Nakahara-san I know."
"We haven't met, asshole."
"Perhaps not personally, but there have been...whispers. The underbellies of Yokohama talk of a man who carries himself like a god."
"..."
"They talked about that demon too, who apparently had you in a leash. "
"...I'm not that mackerel's pet. I don't belong to anyone."
"But he's not just anyone, is he?"
"...what the fuck do you know."
"Not much, but I do know that I'd be dead by now if you weren't so desperate at getting your powers back."
"...and what makes you think I wasnt my power back? All it ever brought me was a shit ton of bad luck and headaches."
"You might not be fit for a good cop, but you really do make a good partner, Nakahara-san."
"..."
"You couldn't stand to see your partner corrupted. How beautiful."
XV.
Don't wake him up, mortal. You'll only make it worse.
"And what the fuck do you know about dealing with nightmares, huh, god of calamity?"
I spent five nights inside his head. I've had five nights of experience.
"You mean to tell me this happens everyday?"
With the amount of Gifts he plundered, it's a surprise all he gets are sleepless nights.
"What the hell does that mean, plundered?"
It's exactly as as the word implies, Chuuya. Stole. Stripped. Robbed.
"I think the word you're looking for is nullified, Arahabaki. Stop playing thesaurus already and just shut the fuck up. You're not helping."
Nobody can help him, Chuuya. Not even you.
"You don't know that."
Trust me, I wish I didn't.
XVI.
"I don't get it," Dazai hummed, munching on a bag of chips. "Why do you call it For the Tainted Sorrow?
"Why do you call yours No Longer Human?" Chuuya asked, and time time, Dazai indulged him.
"Do you really want to know, chibi?"
No, you don't.
"Yeah, I do."
"It's a really long story." Dazai raised an eyebrow.
Chuuya crossed his arms. "I have time."
This time Dazai laughed, and Chuuya had never heard of a sound more terrible.
"We all think we have time, and then we don't."
XVII.
"How much longer have you got, shitty Dazai?"
"For as long as you'll have me."
"Plenty of time left, then."
XVIII.
I don't get it. Why do you go so far for someone like him?
"Are you jealous? It's only been three days and you're already so possessive of me ~"
That's not what I meant and you know it. Answer me properly when I'm asking, mortal.
"Am I not doing that already?"
Make me understand. What's so special about that - that chibi?
"God, you don't just ask people why they like someone, Arahabaki. How rude ~"
I don't get it. He's stupid and barely has enough wits about him -
"What, so you're jealous that he gets treated like a god when you aren't?"
Gods don't get jealous of mortals, Shuuji.
"Ah, then what was the word they use to describe this? Was it petty? Pathetic?"
Remember who you're talking to, mortal. I can reduce your twig of a body in ashes.
"Oh, so you want to use Corruption, then? Wanna know how it feels like on this twig of a body?"
Idiot. Without that wretched nullification, my power will consume you.
"I'd like to see you try."
It's only been three days and I don't want to waste such a good vessel -
"Then let’s see who consumes whom, ne, Arahabaki?"