Work Text:
“Would you be able to watch Q for a bit?”
Mori made it sound like Chuuya had a choice, but they both knew he didn’t. Chuuya prevented himself from grinding his teeth together. He wasn’t a fucking babysitter. But Dazai had been sent out on an important errand. Youngest-mafia-executive-in-history important. We-can’t-involve-Chuuya important.
He wasn’t bitter.
Well, he wouldn’t be bitter if this wasn’t the reason he was being asked to watch over that hellspawn. Being made a babysitter only added salt to the wound. It felt like Mori was saying, “You’re expendable, so you can do this task that everyone else can’t be bothered with because they’re doing more important things.”
“Why can’t he stay in his room?” Chuuya asked, trying to sound concerned rather than irritated.
“He destroyed the door,” Mori sighed, “and scared away the previous agent watching him. He needs fresh air.”
“Right.”
“I’m sure you’ll do an excellent job, Nakahara-kun. Just take him to the waterfront docks. He should be fine.”
Chuuya gave a sharp nod and left the office. As he trudged towards Q’s apparently not secure room, his hands balled into fists. He hoped that Dazai didn’t ask how his day had gone, for Dazai’s own sake. Chuuya would murder him if he dared open his mouth.
The door was indeed destroyed, shredded to pieces. Q sat on the large bed with his doll, fully-dressed and smiling at Chuuya. Had Chuuya not known what Q was, he would have thought Q looked like a very cute 9-year-old boy. But that smile made Chuuya’s skin crawl.
There were very few Abilities that made Chuuya react with fear. One of them was his own, because Corruption involved such a loss of control and such a dependency on Dazai that he would rather not use it at all.
Q could control minds with that stupid doll of his. He probably didn’t even know the gravity of what he did, which was the worst part. He could drive people insane, drive them to hurt or kill without meaning to, show them the most horrifying images, and he was a child.
Mori probably had something to do with Q’s disturbing use of his Ability, but Chuuya didn’t actually know. He had no idea where Q had come from, what his past had been like before he was in the Mafia. All he knew was that when he was thirteen, he’d met a four-year-old Q clutching that doll in one hand and Mori’s hand in the other.
Q was the youngest person he’d ever seen in the Mafia.
“I want to go to the park,” Q sing-songed.
“We’re going to the harbor,” Chuuya said. “Come on.”
Q frowned, but slipped off the bed and followed Chuuya.
The walk to the harbor was slow. Q hummed a song Chuuya didn’t recognize, clutching his doll to his chest. The Mafia owned much of the land harbor-side, and there was really nothing around except warehouses and cargo. Large ships had to dock off-shore, while smaller ships or cranes loaded them up. Very few people who weren’t part of the Mafia worked around here. Fishermen tended to keep their boats towards the outskirts of the Mafia’s property.
Chuuya didn’t know how to entertain Q. He figured that Q would enjoy the fresh air, but he didn’t know what children liked. He’d spent most of his childhood training, and the same could be said for Q. Was there an ulterior motive for this? Did Mori want them to bond?
Q scanned the waterfront. Then he glanced at Chuuya, who stared right back at him.
Q didn’t break eye contact. It was unnerving, so after a moment Chuuya asked, “What do you want to do?”
Slowly, Q smiled, showing his teeth. “I want to go for a swim,” he said, and then he lunged towards the water.
Chuuya rushed forward, catching Q by the arm and dragging him back just before he reached edge. Q cried out and Chuuya let go, stumbling back. That cry meant nothing good.
Q’s eyes widened and he stared at Chuuya. “You hurt me.”
“You would’ve drowned,” Chuuya said. To his horror, Q’s eyes welled up with tears.
“You hurt me,” Q repeated, and he pulled back his sleeve to reveal an arm covered in stained bandages. Chuuya could see, through the bandages, flashes of silver.
Razors.
“What the-” his mouth went dry. That was intentional. And now Q was bleeding.
The surrounding area distorted and twisted. Shadows emerged, too many to count, creeping towards him. The sound of laughter became louder and louder. He had to fight. He had to get out. He felt hands grab at him and he lashed out, kicking and punching. But that did nothing. An unbearable weight pushed down on him, threatening to suffocate him.
There was only one choice left to him. He could barely choke the words.
“Oh, grantors of dark disgrace, do not wake me again.”
The laughter never stopped.
*
“Dazai.”
Dazai took a deep breath before answering. “Yes, Boss Mori.”
“Are you almost done with your negotiation?”
“I finished half an hour ago,” Dazai said.
“Then maybe you can help Nakahara-kun with his assignment.”
“What assignment?” Dazai smirked, imagining Chuuya drowning in piles of paperwork. Out of the two of them, Chuuya was actually better at doing reports correctly because Dazai couldn’t be bothered. It led to hours of him re-doing reports and fixing Dazai’s mistakes, and then more hours of him yelling at Dazai.
“He’s taking Q out for some fresh air.”
The smirk slid off Dazai’s face. It was rare for him to feel anything, let alone fear, but now he felt his heart thudding a bit too hard. Q needed someone who would treat him like glass, for the sake of everyone around him. Hot headed Chuuya was not that person.
And surely Mori knew that.
“Why?” Dazai managed to choke out.
“I thought it would be good for the two of them to get to know each other,” Mori said. “After all, Q doesn’t have a mentor yet. Not like Akutagawa-kun.”
The reasoning was flawed, but Dazai didn’t have time to argue. “How long ago did you send them out?”
“Just now,” Mori said.
“And you’re telling me because?”
“As a fail-safe. Just in case Nakahara-kun isn’t up to task.”
“Of course.” Dazai hung up. Then he ran.
*
The harborside was being destroyed.
Chuuya stood in the center of it all, tossing balls of void like they were nothing, darkness creeping into his skin. But the way his body slumped forward told Dazai all he needed to know. Chuuya was being destroyed as well.
Off to the side, Q stood laughing. Chuuya did too, his uncontrolled laughter mixing with Q’s and drowning out everything else. Dazai marched up to Q and snatched the doll from his hands. Q’s eyes widened at seeing Dazai, the laughter died down, and the smile disappeared. But it still wasn’t quiet.
Dazai didn’t let go of the doll, but he turned towards Chuuya, who still laughed.
One warehouse and several cargo crates had been turned to dust, and parts of the harbor were crumbling into the sea. Dazai marched towards Chuuya and grabbed him by the wrist. Immediately, the color drained from his skin and Chuuya coughed, bringing up a mouthful of blood.
Then his legs gave out.
Dazai followed Chuuya down, easing him to his knees. He held Chuuya up so that he didn’t fall completely. Chuuya retched, and blood and bile spattered on the ground. Dazai winced.
Chuuya’s ragged breathing was the only sound, and to Dazai it was deafening. Chuuya reached one hand up to clutch the arm Dazai had wrapped around Chuuya’s chest. For a moment, Dazai thought Chuuya was trying to balance himself, but then he felt Chuuya pull.
He was trying to get Dazai off him.
“What are you doing, Chuuya?” Dazai murmured.
“Q,” Chuuya growled, attempting to get Dazai to release him, but he had no strength. He gave up after a moment, and choked, “what did you make me do?”
Q backed away, for once looking scared. Chuuya bared his teeth, blood dripping from his mouth.
“Let’s calm down,” Dazai said.
No one seemed to hear him.
“I will destroy you,” Chuuya hissed, “if you ever come near me again.”
Dazai didn’t know what to say. He couldn’t pretend that he didn’t feel Chuuya’s anger, though his was directed elsewhere, at Mori. He could feel every labored breath that Chuuya struggled to take. He could feel Chuuya shaking with something that he was pretty sure wasn’t anger.
“Let’s get back to base,” he said, trying to pull Chuuya up with him as he stood.
Instead, Chuuya passed out.
*
Mori had an annoying habit of appearing unconcerned even during the most serious of moments. Dazai supposed that he shared that trait, and it irritated him to know that his poker-face was probably the result of years of training under Mori.
Dazai hated Mori on a good day. Right now, standing in front of the man with his partner’s blood still soaking into his shirt, Dazai despised him.
Mori steepled his fingers and peered at Dazai like he found Dazai’s anger intriguing.
“You’re out a valuable member for at least a week because you let Q loose,” Dazai said, trying to keep his voice level. “Does that not bother you?”
“I was merely aiming to see how Q would interact with a senior member,” Mori said. “As I mentioned before, Q is in need of a mentor if he is to go forward.”
“Q needs to be locked up,” Dazai snapped. “Anyone who interacts with him is vulnerable to his Ability, which makes them a danger to us. Q doesn’t care if it’s an enemy or an ally. That doesn’t mean anything to him. Which makes his Ability useless.”
“Mind control is an asset,” Mori said.
Dazai narrowed his eyes. “I’m making a decision, as an executive of the Port Mafia. Q will be locked up, and he won’t be released unless you have a bulletproof way to control him.”
“Do as you please,” Mori said. He leaned forward and smiled. “I had no idea you cared for your partner so.”
“Don’t make me laugh,” Dazai said. “I care about how this will affect my workload going forward.”
“Nakahara-kun will have a fast recovery,” Mori said. “He always has been resilient.”
“Corruption went on for longer than it has in the past,” Dazai pointed out. “His recovery time will be longer, which means he’s dead weight for longer than I would like. If you want Double Black to live up to its reputation, don’t use one of its members as part of your experiments.”
Mori gave Dazai a slight nod, but his corners of his mouth twitched in a way that make Dazai feel ill. Deciding he was done, Dazai turned and left.
It didn’t take him long to seal Q away. His anger was strong enough that Q’s screams didn’t even register.
*
It was a well-known fact amongst everyone at the Port Mafia that Chuuya didn’t like convalescence. Most people stayed well away from him when he was recovering from an injury, and especially when he was recovering from using Corruption. His anger tended to reach peak levels when he was trapped in bed.
One time, Dazai had walked in to remind Chuuya that bedrest meant staying lying down in bed and not just staying in the bedroom, when a knife flew at his head from the ceiling.
Needless to say, Dazai was one of the only people who visited him during these times.
So when Dazai walked into Chuuya’s room and nothing flew at him, let alone moved, Dazai was concerned.
He could tell that Chuuya was actually in the bed for once, judging by the lump underneath the covers. He moved closer, expecting to be shouted at with every step, but somehow he got to the bed without incident.
The lump moved. Chuuya pulled the comforter over his head, covering the bit of red hair that had been sticking out.
“Go away, Dazai.”
Dazai sat on the edge of the bed and bounced on the mattress. It felt comfortable. Chuuya made a noise of displeasure and repeated, “Go away,” but there was no bite to the words.
“Can’t,” Dazai said. “Was asked to check in on you.”
“You checked,” Chuuya said. “Now go.” His voice was muffled by the comforter.
“Can’t,” Dazai repeated. He sighed and waited for Chuuya to yell at him, but nothing happened, so he continued, “I did something useful yesterday, and I think you’ll appreciate it.”
“Useful? You?” Chuuya uncovered himself and sat up. Dazai almost winced at how pale he looked, at how dark the bruises under his dull eyes were, but he managed to keep his impassive expression. “Don’t make me laugh.”
“I sealed Q,” Dazai said.
The words fell like bricks between them. Chuuya’s entire body went stiff.
“He’s not useful to us,” Dazai continued after a moment. “He can’t control his Ability. He can’t understand the difference between those who are on his side and those who aren’t.”
“Did Mori decide that?” Chuuya asked, his voice hoarse.
“I did.” Dazai didn’t miss the shock that flitted across Chuuya’s face for a second before he managed to hide it. Chuuya had never had as good of a poker-face as Dazai.
“You must really be special,” Chuuya said after a moment, “if Mori let you make such a huge decision.”
“I am,” Dazai said, “but I think you’re missing the point, Chuuya.”
“Do you want me to thank you or something?” Chuuya asked.
“That would be nice,” Dazai said, “but actually I was looking for something more along of lines of you telling me why you’re actually being a good patient. Could it be that you missed me? That’s why you didn’t kick me out?”
Chuuya gritted his teeth. “Fuck off, Dazai.”
“Or could it be that you’re actually pissed off at Mori for once instead of just accepting his every whim like some kind of lapdog?”
“Fuck off!” This time Chuuya shouted, and it echoed off the walls. Breathing hard, Chuuya clenched his fists into the blankets.
Dazai watched him, not saying anything more. If he did, he knew Chuuya wouldn’t talk. What he wanted, right now, was for Chuuya to say something.
“I am fucking tired of needing you just to use the strongest part of my own goddamn Ability,” Chuuya snarled. “And then Q fucking comes along and just--I didn’t know what I was doing. I didn’t want that. And of course I couldn’t stop it. I had to wait for you to come along and if you hadn’t--” Chuuya swallowed.
“You would have died,” Dazai said, quietly.
Chuuya glared at him, but it was weak. Exhaustion crept into his expression, the slump of his shoulders, his voice. “I should have died,” he murmured. His voice cracked. Dazai almost winced.
“I did what any partner would,” he said, ignoring the gnawing at the back of his mind caused by Chuuya’s words. “I had your back.”
“I don’t want to need you to have my back,” Chuuya said. “You don’t need me.”
That was true, and Dazai couldn’t deny it. Chuuya’s mouth twisted, like he tasted the bitterness of his words. Dazai didn’t often wish he could comfort someone, but Chuuya tried so hard, and it was genuine. Dazai spent a lot of time being anything but genuine, but he had gotten farther.
Life, Dazai had learned early on, wasn’t fair.
Chuuya turned away. “I want to be the one to pull the fucking trigger for once.”
Dazai stared at him. “You are.”
“No.” Chuuya looked at him, mouth set in a thin line. “I’m not. I’m stuck with a useless Ability that I can’t control.”
Dazai didn’t know how to respond to that. Perhaps his dog comment had hit a little too hard. Perhaps Chuuya was questioning his loyalty to the Mafia. Maybe it was just a moment of weakness. It bothered him.
So he just said, “You should get some rest.”
“Hah,” Chuuya sighed, letting his head fall back against his pillows. “If only I didn’t see that demon’s face every time I tried.”
Dazai stood up and made for the chair by the window. He swiped a book off Chuuya’s desk as he passed it, before plopping down.
“Wh-what are you doing?” Chuuya demanded, staring at Dazai.
Dazai flipped open the book. “I wasn’t there when Q took control of you. You were alone, which is probably why you can’t stop thinking about it when you’re in here. If I’m here, that makes things different from when you were with Q, so maybe you can fall asleep.”
“Right,” Chuuya said, sounding unconvinced. “Just don’t bother me.”
“I would never bother you, Chuuya,” Dazai said.
Chuuya exhaled softly, a muted laugh. For a few minutes they were both silent. Then Chuuya said, “Sealing Q away is the only good thing you’ve ever done, you know that?”
Dazai smirked into his book. “I know.”
“Of course you do,” Chuuya muttered.
Dazai chose to ignore that.
He continued to read, and Chuuya fell asleep.
That should have been the last of it.
It wasn’t.
*
Everything went to shit.
It didn’t matter that he was as good as useless, without Dazai around. Dazai left the Mafia shortly after the Q incident. Chuuya threw himself into work.
He got the promotion he’d wanted to Mafia Executive, but it felt hollow. He felt like Dazai’s not-quite-good-enough replacement. Mori would ask him often if he thought Dazai might come crawling back, and Chuuya never knew how to take that question.
So he worked. He took every mission thrown his way and even a few that weren’t. Corruption ran like a current under his skin. The longer he didn’t use it, the more he thought about it. It would be so easy to just say the words, release that power.
Dazai wouldn’t be there to save him. Dazai wouldn’t know. But that was the point, wasn’t it? Chuuya could decide on his own whether or not to use his own damn Ability.
But it would cost him his life. Of course.
It made him want to break something, when deaths could have been prevented had he only been able to end things with Corruption. Every time, he felt those deaths weigh heavy on his shoulders. He couldn’t do enough. He could never do enough, because he needed someone else there. Someone who left him, because he wasn’t good enough.
He did break things. Wine glasses, furniture, his own hand when he punched a concrete wall without using his Ability to make the wall crumble under his touch. Instead his bones cracked, and Chuuya gritted his teeth in a feral grin. Ten people had died under his command earlier. He deserved this.
No matter how much strength he had, to break the strongest of materials with his own bare hands, he felt trapped. He’d only ever known the Mafia. His life had meaning because of the Mafia. He didn’t know anything else, except for the Mafia.
They had him. They had his loyalty.
He didn’t have theirs.
He just had to lie down and accept it. These were his people. He owed them his life and his continued existence despite his diminished capabilities.
There was nowhere else to go.
*
Four years later Q was released.
Dazai thought that Mori was either extremely stupid, or extremely sadistic, or probably both. When he saw Atsushi using his power against his allies, and the despair on his face once he’d realized what he’d done, the image of Chuuya kneeling on the ground at the harborside flitted through his head.
Then Q got kidnapped by the Guild. Mori really was stupid.
Of course, Dazai ended up working with Chuuya again. It felt like slipping on a coat that was the perfect size, but the fabric itched.
They were meant to rescue Q, but for a moment, Dazai held Chuuya’s knife to Q’s throat. He wanted nothing more than to kill Q, but he wasn’t stupid enough to give into his emotions. Still, this was an opportunity.
Chuuya didn’t make a move. He only said two words: “do it.”
Dazai didn’t miss the anger beneath those words, but it was oddly subdued for someone like Chuuya. He had to ask why.
Chuuya’s answer was sincere if not satisfying. Because of Q, a lot of Chuuya’s subordinates had died. Chuuya felt for them, more than Dazai had ever felt for most of the people that died when he was in the Mafia. It was all part of the job: people died. It seemed both endearing and stupid that Chuuya would get worked up about that.
Dazai removed the knife from Q’s throat. Chuuya looked away, disappointed. Dazai freed Q, gave him to Chuuya to carry, and when they went outside, they were met with Lovecraft.
Of course, Chuuya had to use Corruption.
It always seemed to end with Corruption.
*
“You left me.”
“Ah, Chuuya! I hope you enjoyed your rest!”
“I’m still in bed thanks to you, you shitty waste of bandages!”
Dazai leaned against the wall. He was in his room at the Agency’s new base, and in a way, he’d been waiting for Chuuya’s call. Chuuya had a hard time just leaving things alone.
“How did it feel,” he asked, “using Corruption for the first time in, what, four years?”
“Fuck you,” Chuuya snarled. “Fuck. You.”
“I thought you’d thank me,” Dazai said. “It takes a lot out of you, so you’re probably a lot healthier now that you can’t use it.”
“Healthier doesn’t mean shit in the Mafia,” Chuuya snapped. “Did you not listen to what I said?”
“What did you say, Chuuya?”
“I want to be the one to pull the trigger. I don’t need you deciding when.”
Dazai frowned. “Chuuya…”
“I’m tired of being a dog.” Chuuya’s voice had gone quiet.
A joke made it’s way up Dazai’s throat and died there, replaced by another thought. It was a thought that pushed its way into his head four years ago when he left. He’d thought, briefly, of taking Chuuya with him.
At the time, he’d pushed the thought away. It came back now, with such force that Dazai couldn’t speak for a moment. And with it came other thoughts.
If Chuuya joined the Agency, he would be able to control Corruption without Dazai. He wouldn’t need Dazai anymore. He would reach his full potential, and he would no longer be a dog on a leash. He’d be the one pulling the trigger, always.
He wouldn’t need Dazai.
“Dazai?” Chuuya sounded tired. “Are you listening?”
The words felt wrong as they made their way out of Dazai’s mouth. They weren’t the words he needed to say and not the words Chuuya needed to hear, but Dazai wanted to say them. “I could never ignore my dear Chuuya! He may not be a dog, but he looks cute with a leash, no?”
Chuuya took a sharp breath. “I hate you.” He hung up.
Dazai tilted his head up and sighed, trying to release the tension from his chest. It stayed there.
“I know.”