Chapter Text
Crystaliqueeen’s Soukoku Realm Presents:
THE BILLIONAIRE'S OBSESSION
"Holy shit." Chuuya mumbles as he immediately kneel down and check the person's pulse, "You fucking extra, do you intend to die here? The blame would be pointed at me, what the hell!?"
Chuuya, a thief and a delinquent, finds a bleeding man in the gloomy dark slums where he lives amidst stormy night, and that bleeding man in question is no other than Osamu Dazai, the World's Youngest Billionaire. Of course, Chuuya has no choice but to babysit this brat. What could go wrong, right?
Dazai walked weakly amidst the silent and gloomy slums. He's panting a little, barely breathing as he keeps on doing faint steps away from most civilizations. He's also dripping wet due to the heavy rain falling down his body. His bandages turned into crimson color as he's pressing his palms on his sides that have been stabbed earlier. He wants to die, really, but not in a painful way like this. It's past midnight and he's been running and hiding down the dark alleys after being chased down and almost getting killed. Almost.
He's not stupid. He knew those people wanted to kill him. They are his business partners, by the way. Dostoevsky, mainly. Those greedy snakes got blinded by their greed and resorted to killing someone. He can't blame them though. If he's dead, billions of money will go to those snake's hands. Honestly, Dazai has a lot of well-calculated plans to counter all of their evil intentions but earlier, he had forgotten about one thing that led to his own miscalculations. Odasaku. Those damn men threatened to pull Odasaku into this. He's Dazai's friend and even when people know Dazai is a ruthless person, he also has people whom he held dear. Odasaku is one of them. Actually, he's the only one. Ango can also be one but not on Oda's level.
Dazai looks down on the open wound while the blood continuously pours. He's losing tons of blood right now. If he won't find any medical treatments, he'll certainly die.
Ah, what a mess to die in groggy, slippery, and dirty slums like this. If only he can bring his golden yet comfortable king-sized Baldacchino Supreme bed so that at least he'll die in comfort. This is really messed up.
Dazai's steps get slower as he falls down on a dark corner. He might not see his own face but he knows he’s getting pale and colorless from the blood loss. The cold rain is pouring all over his body but he can still feel the warmth from his blood. He chuckled dryly as he lay down on the dirty ground while breathing hard. If he'll die like this, at least he locked all the billions in his bank account so no one can touch it. He should've left them all to Oda but he knows that those people will target Odasaku in return. Money can certainly manipulate people and dirtied peoples' hands.
He wishes a beautiful woman would die with him. Not really a double suicide but an acceptable death nonetheless.
Dazai closes his eyes as he feels dizzy. He knows he's getting pale and he's dying. He knows he'll die here... like this. The last thing inside his mind is the possible headlines in some news outlet the next day.
"World's Youngest Billionaire Found Dead In Some Slums of Yokohama."
With those thoughts, Dazai fell unconscious.
“Take that, motherfuckers!”
Chuuya grinned victoriously as he leaped through some hurdles, trash cans and actual slum hurdles, running and sprinting as fast as he could after finally getting out of some policemen's sight. He runs from corners to corners, dodging and moving swiftly amidst the rain while holding bags of food in his arms. His smirks are wide since the food that he stole tonight can last for three days and he won't be tasked to steal for that short amount of time. He keeps running effortlessly and for almost an hour of continuous running and hiding, he finally gets free from all their eyes.
Chuuya's been a notorious delinquent in their area, known by the nickname "Arahabaki," (though no one really knows what he looks like except for his height)— a thief and a gang leader of The Sheep. He's far from being a saint and he knows it. He steals without guilt and he uses his fist without hesitation if he has to. In a place like this, and with a life like him, all he has to do is survive. He's cruel and undeniably a bad person. He has a foul mouth and he's been leading a group of delinquents that steals around Yokohama. Sometimes they are being commissioned and there are people who pay for them to steal something, anything. Chuuya's been living this kind of life for years. Being in this kind of situation where every penny matters for survival sucks actually.
That is also the reason why Chuuya hates the occurrence of 'some' rich people who are too privileged and selfish enough to keep on messing up with the poor people's lives. Chuuya is actually referring to the corrupt rich government officials in their city— most of them are their targets to steal with.
"Ah shit, fuck those crocs." Chuuya whispered to himself and ran as fast as he could towards the dark corners of the slums near where he was living.
Beads of water droplets are falling from his forehead as he keeps on running. His orange hair is dripping wet. The rain is heavy tonight but it's a blessing in disguise since he can run away from the policemen chasing him easier. Chuuya turned to the darkest part of the corners to rest and breath for a moment but then he stopped when he saw a lump of body from the corner of his eyes, laying down near some garbage bags.
Chuuya knows that there are a lot of beggars in this city ruled by corrupt government officials but this part of the slums is his, and he handles most of the spaces here. No one really stays here because it's dangerous and it's within his territory, a perk of being a notorious thug.
Now, who the hell is brave enough to sleep in my territory?
Chuuya's grasp on the bags of food tightened as he cautiously walked towards the lump of body. Since it's night and it's raining hard, it took him a few minutes to realize that the body isn't only sleeping but might as well, stabbed and almost...
"Holy shit." Chuuya mumbles as he immediately kneel down and check the person's pulse, "You fucking extra, do you intend to die here? The blame would be pointed at me, what the hell?"
Chuuya has never killed a person in his entire life, but he has witnessed deaths multiple times. That is why, a sudden gush of relief flows in his system when he feels a faint pulse from the unconscious person currently bleeding to death from a stab wound. Without thinking deeply of what might happen, Chuuya's body starts moving as he pulls out a stolen handkerchief from his pocket and pressed it on the man's bleeding side to reduce the blood loss. Then, while trying to balance the bags of food on his hands, he carries the man in his arms effortlessly as he walks towards his place.
The man is taller and bigger than him but Chuuya's body is used to heavy work. The rain is still falling on their bodies and Chuuya can hear the faint breath of the man near his death amidst the thunderstorms. He's sure that the blood will be washed away by the rain so his priority right now is to avoid letting the man die. It will be a pain in the ass if he will be a suspected murderer plus he don't like seeing people die in front of him.
He's still a bad person, ok? He's definitely not concerned with this man's well-being. He's helping the man for his own gain. One more thing, it might be fucking hard to hide a corpse so he prefers this man alive.
Chuuya finally arrived at his house, his secret base on the farthest and darkest part of the slums. It's hidden and it's made up of piles of thrown away things compiled into a livable place. It's quite spacious, honestly, but not that well-looking. However, Chuuya knows that it is comfortable and cozy, he makes sure of that. The walls are made up of wooden stacks, unused blocks, sacks, and thrown away clothes inside the garbage bags. The roofs are, fortunately, manageable. It's made up of unused scraps of metals piled up to make a roof. In the nutshell, Chuuya's house is basically a haven made up of thrown away things but Chuuya values it since this place protects him from rain and extreme sunlight. He's not homeless at all but this place can't fully be considered as a house. However, for Chuuya, it's still his house even when people might not consider it to truly be one.
Well, he's poor, ok? Extremely poor to the point he steals and does bad things to survive. He knows it so when anyone wants to judge how he live and how his place looks like, Chuuya simply doesn't give a fuck.
He immediately put the man inside his house, let him lay on the ground with only some used appliances boxes, clothes, and sacks that served as his mattress, and stripped his upper clothes. Thankfully, he still has some medicine and first aid kit in his house because he needs those whenever he would come home with different wounds from delinquent war. The rain outside gets heavier and the skies get darker. Chuuya lit the small lamp of candle as their source of light before he started doing his best to clean, stitch the stab wound, and wrapped the man in new sets of bandages. It took him a lot of time to mend the man. He also sees the man’s body but he ignores the uncountable scars of wounds from it since it's not his shit to deal with.
What matters now is that he's alive.
Chuuya cleaned the man's body from some blood and took off all his wet clothes from the rain. He has some large stolen spare clothes that can fit in this person and he did. He let the person wear an oversize black shirt and pajamas. His body underneath is wrapped in bandages and Chuuya sighed after he's finally done.
I just hope you'll survive.
He starts fixing himself and changing his own clothes before arranging the insides of his house. His house isn't the best place to handle a 50/50 critical person but he doesn't have a choice. He can't bring this man to the hospital since he's still in a chase. He can't also leave the man in those wet abandoned slum since there will be more authorithy going after his tail if they find out that a man was murdered in the places Chuuya's notorious in.
For now, all he can do is make sure this person is alive, ask him what the fuck is going on, and kick his ass away once his wound heals because Chuuya can't barely provide a food for himself, much more to this person. Plus his place isn't really that comfortable for those people who probably live in normal houses, so it would be a pain in the ass to take care of a total stranger. He also did not know whether he could trust this man. It doesn't matter if this person is a bad person, Chuuya can handle himself well in self defense.
What's lurking inside his mind for now is the fact that this person needs to survive the blood loss that he's gone through and keep on living.
Ah, shit. Why did he have to find this half dead man like that? He ain't samaritan or anything! He's a bad person and he shouldn't be helping people like this. Why the hell is he being out of his character now?
When Dazai opened his eyes, the first thing that he thought of was... "I miss my Baldacchino supreme bed, my Lambswool luxury blanket, and my saatva latex pillow."
Those thoughts are followed by a small groan of pain from his wounded flesh and small growls of his stomach. Where is he laying down? It's hard, far from the expensive and luxurious bed where he sleeps. Argh, even the pillow on his head isn't soft as well. It's as if he's laying down in a pile of clothes. It's also a little hot. Can anyone open the air conditioner? He needs to take a bath or maybe take a short dive in his private pool.
Dazai's eyes slowly blink open and he weakly observes his surroundings first. It's definitely not his mansion— what is this place? Is this even a house?
Since he can barely move, only his eyes check the surroundings. Where is he? From as far as he can remember, he fell unconscious in the middle of some dark slums— almost dead. He should've been dead. But why is he here? One more thing...
Dazai weakly looks down on his body and a thin exhale escapes from his mouth. Thankfully he's still wrapped in bandages but unfortunately, someone mended his wound. Why didn't anyone just let him die and have his peace? Dying is a bliss, an utter blessing. Why is the world so selfish to not let him taste the delight of finally dying—
"Oi. Stop staring at the roof, idiot. It's creepy." Dazai calmly blinks once again as he looks at where the voice comes from. It's from the man sitting a few meters away from him, hands crossed on his chest, and he paused for a while when he saw him.
It's a man with a beautiful pair of blue eyes and mesmerizing red locks of hair that falls perfectly on the frame of his face. The man is wearing a black peacoat over a green hoodie. His eyebrows are raised a little and he's giving Dazai a questioning look. Dazai can feel his dry throat so he can't fully speak now, and the short redhead seems to understand it.
"Whatever," The man continued and leaned on the small chair that looked like a block of box, "You've been asleep for almost 2 days. Thankfully, you're alive. It will be a pain in the ass to hide your corpse if you end up dying here in my place. Are you hungry?"
Dazai is too bewildered to speak but when the man hears the small growls from his stomach, a small smug smirk appears on his lips. Dazai can feel himself pause for a moment with how the man looks at him with a plain sense of equality.
It's as if he didn't know who Dazai is. It's rare.
"I have some canned crabs here. Most of my food is canned so you bear with it, ok?" The man asked before he stood up and started getting something on the piles of paper bags on the corner.
Dazai weakly licks his lower lip to save it from extreme dryness as he tries to speak, "S-steak."
"Yeah, sure, your life is at stake ever since I saw you almost dying in those slums. Now eat some up and get healthy, then get out of here." The redhead stated with a gentle voice as he picked some bread and canned food.
Dazai wants to groan since he's requesting for a steak. As for Dazai, he had never eaten any canned crabs before. Are those even edible? Doesn't it taste like, well, metal since it's inside a metallic can? The man is quite straightforward as well.
Isn't he going to use Dazai as a subject in a kidnap for ransom?
"Here." The redhead walked on his side with a plate of canned food and bread, "I bet you can't sit down yet so you stay still as I feed you."
Dazai's eyebrows curled a little. What's with this act? People don't give kindness without any return in particular. Now, why is this chibi doing this? Dazai is confused but above anything else, he's cautious. He should maintain an act and observe the situation further. He needs to assess the situation and act accordingly. He can’t trust this person right now.
The chibi seemed to notice his hesitation as the redhead continued, "It's not poisoned, asshole. If you don't want to eat, then at least inform me now and starve. I got things to do. I literally waited for you to wake up today in order to feed you because I know how shitty being stabbed feels like."
Dazai looks at how comfortable the redhead is sitting beside him with those foods and with a hoarse voice he answers, "Who... are you?"
He tried his best but the pain from his body is too much plus his throat is aching right now because of dehydration.
"Chuuya," The redhead replied like it's nothing big deal, "I'll answer your questions later on when you can speak properly. Now, shut up and eat."
Dazai wants to protest but he's too weak for that. The chibi, Chuuya, gently gets a spoonful of the food and feeds it to him. He also gave him some bread and Dazai did his best to comply without acting suspicious at all. His actions should be well calculated and everything he does should be analytical. There's no way he's here just because of a mere coincidence. Maybe this person is with the businessmen who want him dead.
He can't trust this redhead yet and— oh, the canned crab tastes... well, it tastes quite good.
Dazai eats as Chuuya feeds him. It took a while until he got full and when Chuuya realized that, he stood up and cleaned something.
“I honestly don’t know why the fuck are you stabbed, but I don’t appreciate you dying in my territory,” The redhead started and sit on the same small box meters away from Dazai again with his arms crossed together, “Now tell me. Who are you?”
Dazai stayed silent as his eyes observed Chuuya calculatingly. Territory? There are some branches of answers and possibilities appearing inside his mind. Dazai knows that he still can't trust the man. There are a lot of things within this situation that haven’t cleared up yet. Right now, he knows that he must act according to the situation. If Chuuya were to know his identity then—
“You look familiar.” Chuuya suddenly says and Dazai pauses with his calm and serious gaze. Blue eyes observes him thoroughly until Chuuya blinks again and shrugs, “Ah, I thought you look like the mackerel in the canned food I have last week. Nevermind, continue your internal monologue.”
Dazai’s brow raises a little. No one ever calls him ‘mackerel’. No one. No one even dares to throw curses on his face. He’s used to people respecting him and treating him like some god, but Chuuya’s looking at him with an honest disgusted eyes. He thought Chuuya recognizes him as the youngest billionaire in the world but instead, the man doesn’t seem to know that yet. Ah, Chuuya certainly doesn’t know who he is yet. It only means that he can fool the chibi into his fingers and—-
“I have things to do for now, brat. I’ll go back later.” Chuuya suddenly stated as he stands up and give Dazai a calm gaze, “I know you’re fucking confuse, and I am too, but do yourself a favor and don’t just move around carelessly, at least not now. The wounds and stitches on your side are still fresh. You’ll bleed like fuck if you’ll start moving without them healing first.”
Dazai remained silent. The chibi called him brat.
Chuuya didn’t say anything before going outside, leaving Dazai in silence for a while. Chuuya’s voice is firm and tough, like someone who's too used to yelling and shouting. His short stature is entirely visible but Dazai can see based on Chuuya’s posture that the man is quite strong. Chuuya wears a short black pea coat over his hoodie, which made him look like a delinquent. He also wears black pants and brown shoes. A bracelet can also be seen on his right wrist. From his look, Dazai is sure that the man is almost the same as his age— the man is also a kid. Around 15 years old like him, although Chuuya looks smaller than that.
What is a kid doing here? Living here?
Dazai’s eyes roamed again on where he is right now. It’s a house, spacious but it seems hidden and a little messy in an exterior aspect. If Chuuya’s living in this kind of shelter, then that means he’s either pennyless or he's hiding from something. Dazai tried to stand up but moving even a single finger requires a lot of strength. It seems as if he's lost a lot of blood and he's barely recovering. All the stitches on his wound are also aching. He needs some tylenol or painkiller medicines. As much as he wants to die, he hates pain.
Chuuya.
He needs to be cautious of that person.
When Chuuya arrives home, he's a little tired and bruised. Earlier, The Sheep has been in a mild delinquent gang fight and someone miraculously hit him with a wooden bat in the face, and thus he's got bruised but he manages to knock everyone out in the worst way possible. Chuuya also stole earlier. Dazai is in his care temporarily so he needs to provide for the two of them. He stole food and medicines. He also stole necessary medical equipment like bandages and such. Dazai might need it, and he's a hundred percent sure that he won't let that man die because he can't go to prison after being blamed for homicide.
With his cheeks still swollen and painful, he enters inside his house only to see the empty space where Dazai used to lay down earlier. Chuuya blinks calmly, and before he can take a step, someone from behind harshly pulls him close and aims a knife at his throat— not digging it entirely, but enough to wound a little skin on it.
"You really are a stubborn brat, aren't you?" Chuuya exhaled unbothered. There's a knife on his throat and both of his hands are occupied with the stuff he had stolen, "The stitches on your body might tear your skin more if you'll move like—"
"Who are you?" Dazai asked from behind. His voice is dangerous and serious, but it doesn't make Chuuya flinch at all. Chuuya knows that the man is probably concealing the intense pain in his wound.
"I think I've told you my name earlier? Seriously, is that how you thank someone who save your fucking ass?"
The knife digs deeper on his skin until some droplets of blood occur. Chuuya knows that this brunette can be a pain but he's not aware that this person can be this much of a pain in the ass. He exhaled in exasperation. His face is still swelling and now, he’s got an additional wound on the throat. Damn it.
"Where am I? Why did you save me? Who are you connected with?"
Chuuya sighs as he lets the cold metal touch his skin, "You're in my house. That's quite obvious, isn't it? Why did I save you? It's because I saw you bleeding in my territory, in this place where you decided to fucking bleed to death. If the policemen were to see you dying there, the blame would be pointed on me. Being in prison for the crime you didn't commit sucks so I'm stuck in aiding you. Who am I connected with? Unless you want to deal with some thugs and delinquents, you wouldn't want to know."
Chuuya raise both of the plastic bags on his hands to show the brunette that he's too defenseless right now and sigh tiredly, "Now, if you must, can you fucking let go of my throat. If you're planning to kill me, then at least, fucking get healed first. I have some bandages here for your change and some food, too. Get the fuck off me, whoever you are."
"Dazai Osamu." The deep voice of the man vibrated from behind him, and Chuuya's eyes remained impassive, "Did you know who he is?"
"If you're searching for someone, or that person, then I don't fucking know whoever he is. I'm too busy dealing with my life's shit, do you think I'm someone who knows people out there?" Chuuya sighs, "Seriously, I'm fucking tired tonight. If you're not planning to kill me, at least let me mend my bruises, asshole."
That's the cue. Chuuya hears the man exhale as he lets go of him. He sees the knife stained with a little of his own blood and he curses a little before walking away from the brunette. He ignores the man and starts getting something in his kit to clean the small cut on his throat. He also lit the candle to light the entire house. Chuuya remained silent as he also used some ice packs to lessen the swelling and bruises on his cheeks.
Dazai stays standing as he watches how the man seems unbothered despite how he almost killed him earlier. Chuuya is too trusting and he isn’t even scared of Dazai. Chuuya gives him some short glances, but he ignores him again as the redhead starts preparing some meal for the two of them.
"Where have you been?" Dazai asks calmly and Chuuya pauses for a while before looking at him. The redhead is bruised and he looks tired and beaten. The light from the candle dances on the reflection of the chibis blue eyes.
Dazai’s grip on the knife didn’t soften. He needs to make sure that Chuuya is not connected to the people that want him dead. He’s sure he can’t trust Chuuya fully but right now, he needs to make sure that staying with the man for tonight is at least safe.
"Why'd you ask? That's none of your business." Chuuya replied and got something inside the plastic bag. He gave a pork bun to Dazai and the brunette stopped on his pace when Chuuya gave him some food, "Ya hungry? You need to eat to get healed faster."
Dazai didn't move as his gaze dropped on Chuuya instead. He sees the swelling bruises again. Why is this person still giving him food when he just pointed a knife on the man's throat earlier? Why is Chuuya acting like this? It’s very suspicious.
Chuuya sighed and lowered his hand down, before he ate his own pork bun with ease. He doesn't look afraid with the brunette at all, "You didn't answer my question earlier before I left. Who are you?"
In order to know if this man can be trusted…
"Dazai Osamu." Dazai replies as he is calculating the possible reaction that Chuuya might give. Will Chuuya be shocked? Will he start paying him respect? Will the chibi take advantage of him? But Chuuya just gave him a quick glance before nodding.
"Ah. Ok." Chuuya chews his food like hearing that name is nothing, before glaring at the brunette, "Is your wound still bleeding? I wasn't able to get you painkiller medicine but I have an ointment here to prevent it from having infection—"
"Didn't you hear me? I'm Dazai Osamu."
The world’s youngest billionaire, A demon prodigy that manages to handle a multi-billionaire company and attain great influence all over the world. The most—
"Oh? Cool. And I'm Nakahara Chuuya,” The chibi replied with his usual bland tone before getting an ointment inside the bags that he brought earlier, “Not to be mean or manipulative, but can you sit there on the ground and take your shirt off?"
Dazai pauses as he is caught off guard, "What?"
"I'm fucking putting an ointment on the wound or you wanna do it alone? Bet it would hurt like hell. From the angle of your wound to your hands, it will be harder for you to put it yourself. The flesh might get torn apart."
"You're not going to harass me, are you, Chuuya?"
Chuuya’s eyebrows curl in distaste as he groan in annoyance, "The fuck? Whatever, nevermind. Go mend your wound on your own if you don't want to."
Dazai sighs as he slowly walks towards his own mattress (or just some piles of clothes). He made sure to look defeated as if he was abused and with a small, lonely tone, he replied, "Ok, I'll strip."
"Stop sounding so sad about it!" Chuuya exclaimed and Dazai unknowingly chuckles but groans in pain afterwards from his stab wound. Chuuya smirks upon seeing his agony. What a little devil.
After eating, Chuuya walks towards him and kneels on his side to start unwrapping the man's bandages. Dazai breath hitch on his throat as Chuuya’s gentle hands start unfolding the pieces of bandages around his body. He makes sure to read the redhead’s eyes upon seeing what lies underneath. Dazai is looking for any hint of disgust or disappointment within Chuuya’s eyes after seeing all his scars but Chuuya remains impassive. His gaze is gentle and careful. He didn’t bring the topic about the scars nor ask questions concerning it in which Dazai is grateful for.
He flinches a little when a cold ointment touches the sides of his wounds. Chuuya’s hands are a little callous but his touches are very soft and light as if he’s making sure that he wouldn’t press too much and hurt Dazai. It is very careful and deliberate. Chuuya is focused on mending his wound so Dazai entertains himself by staring at the man. There is indeed a bruise on his cheek as if he just got out of a fight. His eyes are blazing with will to live but underneath those, they feel exhausted. Dazai can’t stop thinking about Chuuya’s job.
They remained silent with only the light of the candle in the place. Chuuya finally wraps his body again with another set of cleaner bandages and when it’s all done, the chibi lifts his eyes up and their gazes locked for a moment.
"If you want to talk about anything, just spill it." Chuuya mutters calmly.
Dazai pressed his lips together to think of his approach. He knows that asking about this house or asking about the man's personal life is too sensitive for tonight bearing in mind that they both don’t trust each other well. So instead of asking deeper questions that might give him proper answers, he just asks something less sensitive.
"Do you have canned crabs?"
Chuuya's eyebrows raised for a second before he finally laughed. Dazai is silently looking at the redhead, amused that the man can truly laugh with such sincerity. Chuuya continues for a moment and then when he calms down, he gives Dazai his usual cool grin and stands up.
"Yeah. You should've told me earlier if you want to eat that food." He gave Dazai a platter of canned crab and pork buns, “I’ll go take a bath first.”
Dazai eats as Chuuya goes outside. The bathroom (or a place where they can bathe but not exactly a bathroom) is outside the house. Dazai checked it earlier and it’s clean and like the house, it’s also made up of some piles of stuff.. After a while, Chuuya went back inside the house and lay down on the floor, with only a pile of clothes as his pillow. Dazai is astonished to see how Chuuya is living without any distaste for his environment.
"If you're planning to slit my throat while I'm asleep, at least clean the mess of my blood later on." Chuuya whispers before he closes his eyes and drifts off to sleep, unbothered by Dazai’s presence at all.
Dazai is silent while looking at the man sleeping peacefully with an even breath. This place isn't like his mansion. The chandeliers are replaced by mere candles as a source of light. The air conditioner is replaced by the wind breeze from outside. This place is different from where he came from, and this man, this person, is treating him like he's... imperfectly human. Chuuya is treating him not as someone capable of buying everything in this world, but as someone who is wounded and needs care.
No one has treated Dazai like that— like he’s capable of failing, like he’s undoubtedly just a breathing creature. Even Ango and Odasaku, his friends, sometimes sees him as a person with a higher status than them. But Chuuya… Chuuya’s really open with his emotions. He’s too honest, too trusting, too naive to the point where he’s sleeping peacefully with a total stranger near him who almost took his life earlier. It might be because Chuuya doesn’t know who he is yet or what his background is.
Chuuya is indeed too stupid and trusting to let the man who almost slice his throat earlier sleep next to him tonight.
Dazai, for the first time today, feels like he’s nothing but a mere 15 year old kid. Because of all the things that he needs to face at such a young age, he forgets how it feels to just be a kid. With Chuuya, who is probably the same age as him, he feels free.
Dazai sighs and lays down on his own place where there are piles of clothes that serve as his mattress. Maybe while he's wounded he can live like this, and live in normality. Maybe he can take advantage of the situation and be there for now. Chuuya didn't know who he was, so it's better that way. It’s better than he expected.
"Chuuya." He whispers in the silence of the night, and he likes how the taste of the name rolls in his tongue.
"Hmm?" Chuuya whispers back, like he suddenly drifted back awake. He easily gets awake— or is he? Dazai didn't know. Chuuya’s probably half asleep right now.
"I have nowhere to go," Dazai mutters, partially lying, "Can I stay here?"
"Hmmm." Chuuya mumbles again, half-dreaming, "Just... help me... with the laundry..." And before Dazai can respond to that, he hears Chuuya snoring again. There, a small smile crept on his lips.
While vulnerable, maybe he can spend some time with this brawny chibi for the sake of entertainment. He still needs to give his payback to those greedy people who almost killed him, but for now, he needs to lay low and rest for a while. He’s sure that Chuuya can keep him entertained. He can’t wait to annoy Chuuya tomorrow.
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