[That, at least, remains an unchanging fact, a safe insult to throw at him even if still has no idea what just happened. Especially since he has no idea what just happened.
Couldn’t Dazai just answer a single question for once.]
It would serve you right if you did fall and break your neck.
[Dazai gave a mirthless chuckle and moved the mirror out of his face to reveal the ceiling and the amulet-powered fixture hanging from it.
The image was too sharp, a tell of hyper-awareness tailored specifically to dull the buzz of thoughts, unexamined emotion, and observation underneath.]
I'd pick a better view for it.
For an unoccupied empty house, they made sure that even the ceiling was clean. How thorough of them.
[The anger is replacing the worry now. He still hasn't returning to his run, though, he's still leaning against the wall, recovering from the shock. At least Dazai can't see the way he's rubbing a hand across his face.]
You deserve a trash heap, not a clean house. I'm heading back.
[It takes about twenty minutes for Chuuya to make it back. His anger had meant he wanted to stay away, just to spite him (as if that would spite him), but his worry had won out in the end. It didn't matter that Dazai had told him he was fine; he had to see it, in person.
He'd ran back to the coffee shop he'd seen earlier, and picked up a bag of pastries and two large coffees. None of which is for Dazai, obviously. Chuuya walks in, walks around until he spots him, walks straight past him, and leaves everything on the kitchen counter. He picks up his own coffee (they're both for him, obviously), and starts sipping it, a bit desperately.
It had really been cold out, and he hadn't been able to get warm again after he'd stopped, hadn't been able to focus on running. He's shivering now, standing straight but looking as if he'd rather curl into a ball to conserve heat.
And he's not saying a word. He might give something away.]
[The floor was comfortable, and twenty minutes were more than enough for Dazai to arrange his thoughts. Chuuya, he knew, would have questions.
He kept his eyes to the ceiling as Chuuya stalked into the kitchen. Even from the periphery, it was obvious to Dazai that the other was trying to act normal.]
Might as well sit down, slug.
[The coffee smelled good, and that bag looked liked it held more than what Chuuya would get just for himself.
[Chuuya looks down at him there on the floor, and then, with some relief, allows himself to sink down on the floor, grabbing the bag of pastries on the way. It thumps down on the floor next to him.
He pulls his legs up, curling his body around the coffee cup, which he holds with both hands.]
Have you really been on the floor the whole time?
[Really, Dazai? That's not making him worry less.]
[He's not exactly sure what he felt, just that it's impossible to shake now that he has. And he's still not sure why Dazai sent him that image, even if he does know he didn't do it on purpose.
He lets Dazai grab a pastry if he wants. He'll just steal the bag back in a moment.]
Part of that deal we made is that I don't let you die.
[Before Dazai could bite into the fruit-filled croissant he picked out, Chuuya mentioned the deal.
The deal was an ever convenient excuse. At the moment, it was an inconvenient device that allowed Chuuya a chance to pull out more answers.
Dazai supposed he might as well put off polishing the pastry. Chuuya talking about feeling that image put him off his appetite, though he wouldn't admit that.
No way to avoid explaining this, was there, when telepathy was going to be a major means of communication.]
That's right. However, it doesn't cover imagined scenarios. [Dazai hid his lips behind the croissant.] Not that it happens often, nor is it something to be concerned with.
[Chuuya looks at him, and understanding feels a lot like his earlier panic. It's not like it matters to him anymore if Dazai decides to go jump off a bridge. They're not partners anymore, he doesn't care what happens to Dazai. They're enemies. There's the deal, but--
Yeah, exactly. There's still the deal.]
It does include saving you from your own idiocy. [Technically, no, it doesn't.] Even if I have to drag you back over a railing by your hair.
[He thumps his head back against the cupboards, closing his eyes. His coffee has gone sudden cold, and he's shivering hard.]
Quite a jump, from slipping on ice to falling off somewhere. [His smile was mirthless as he slipped off his coat and threw it at Chuuya's face.] Not the way you planned on getting rid of me, is it.
How miserable you look. Regretting the deal already?
[Normally Chuuya's reflexes would have him catch that coat easily. But right now he's too distracted, not to mention his eyes were closed. He takes it straight in the face, and immediately turns his face towards Dazai again so he can glare at him. He reaches up to make sure his hair is okay.
But then he pulls it over himself a little gratefully.]
Yet you insisted. [Dazai's tone was mocking.] I wonder why.
[He knew the exact reason why Chuuya pushed through with the deal, just as he already anticipated this minor detour wouldn't be enough to distract that incoming line of questions.
The hatrack wasn't that incompetent, sinking his teeth and digging his heels on the ground as he did for matters he decided needed urgent attention.]
And you agreed, when you're the one who made me an enemy before.
[Yeah, he's not answering that rhetorical question, he's turning it right around on Dazai instead. Out of the two of them, Chuuya is the one who depends on having teammates.
[This trail of thought was more familiar to Chuuya. Another grapple to maintain normalcy.
Convenient that Dazai had long settled for the fact that Chuuya would never know the full details behind his departure.
He made a vague hand gesture.] Our respective affiliations are meaningless here. Neither will it matter whenever we return to Yokohama should you forget your time in this place.
[That makes Chuuya bristle, visible. He shoves Dazai’s coat off himself again.]
Loyalties are not something you throw aside when it’s convenient. It doesn’t matter where I am, Dazai. Though I know it’s a meaningless concept for you.
[He’s at least pretty successfully distracted for now?? He lifts his coffee to take a sip, to warm himself - then makes a face when he realizes it’s nearly frozen.]
[An askew interpretation of his words, but not unexpected.
Dazai huffed and took a large bite from his pastry. Would've tasted better if he had an appetite, and now all he could think about was its texture.]
I see your Ability's corroded your brain. [No, he hadn't swallowed before that first line. Now he did.] No wonder Ranpo was able to goad you in that kind of emergency, even though you had such responsibility riding on your shoulders.
[That's it. With a smooth movement Chuuya tosses his coffee cup up and behind him, where it lands with a surprisingly loud clang in the sink. Completely frozen by now.
Chuuya doesn't care. He has already spun around on the floor, hand closing around Dazai's throat and shoving him back against the cupboards. His fingers are also ice cold, stiff. He ignores it. His violent shivering won't take away from the fact that he's had enough.]
Tell me, how is it that your toy agency is even willing to put up with you.
[He tightens his grip, fingers close to Dazai's pulse point.]
[This was going to be a repeat issue, and Chuuya tended to return to circle around sore points and ignored his blind spots. If they were stuck together for the foreseeable future, might as well get it over with and rip out the tape in one go.
(Would this even solve anything in the end, when all was said and done and memories crumbled to dust that could not cross the fabric between worlds?)
And so, having already predicted he'd be attacked, Dazai let him, his body relaxed with only a loose grip on the other's wrist.
Chuuya always did like going for the throat when it came to him, a painless gesture threatening silence and asphyxiation that also served to keep them at eye level. The cold was a new sensation though, seeping the warmth away from his neck.]
Is calling me a coward your response to everything?
[His fingers are starting to hurt, they're so cold. The air around them is chilling, too, and at this point, Chuuya's lips are turning blue at the edges. He doesn't know how to stop this, or control it, so he only hopes it hurts Dazai as well.
He presses forward, using his weight instead to put more strength into his grip.]
Yeah. It's always the same problem with you. Even after four years.
[Speaking of eye-level, he's leaning pretty close as well.]
Dazai's eyes narrowed, and he traced the line of Chuuya's wrist with his thumb.]
It's warranted right now with how you're mishearing things. [His tone was cool and distant.] Do go on, and I might have to break out later with a makeshift ice pick.
[If Chuuya wasn't already so cold, that touch would make him shiver. He looks down at Dazai's hand holding his wrist, and lets out a breath. Fine. He'll play along.]
So be clearer.
[He's not always in the mood to waste energy analyzing Dazai's words.]
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[That, at least, remains an unchanging fact, a safe insult to throw at him even if still has no idea what just happened. Especially since he has no idea what just happened.
Couldn’t Dazai just answer a single question for once.]
It would serve you right if you did fall and break your neck.
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The image was too sharp, a tell of hyper-awareness tailored specifically to dull the buzz of thoughts, unexamined emotion, and observation underneath.]
I'd pick a better view for it.
For an unoccupied empty house, they made sure that even the ceiling was clean. How thorough of them.
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[The anger is replacing the worry now. He still hasn't returning to his run, though, he's still leaning against the wall, recovering from the shock. At least Dazai can't see the way he's rubbing a hand across his face.]
You deserve a trash heap, not a clean house. I'm heading back.
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The ceiling fixture.]
Suit yourself. [An impression of a shrug. The image's focus shifts as Dazai waggles his finger in front of his face.] You'll not find much to do here.
[He cuts the connection before identifying the heavy curl in his chest and sets it aside.]
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He'd ran back to the coffee shop he'd seen earlier, and picked up a bag of pastries and two large coffees. None of which is for Dazai, obviously. Chuuya walks in, walks around until he spots him, walks straight past him, and leaves everything on the kitchen counter. He picks up his own coffee (they're both for him, obviously), and starts sipping it, a bit desperately.
It had really been cold out, and he hadn't been able to get warm again after he'd stopped, hadn't been able to focus on running. He's shivering now, standing straight but looking as if he'd rather curl into a ball to conserve heat.
And he's not saying a word. He might give something away.]
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He kept his eyes to the ceiling as Chuuya stalked into the kitchen. Even from the periphery, it was obvious to Dazai that the other was trying to act normal.]
Might as well sit down, slug.
[The coffee smelled good, and that bag looked liked it held more than what Chuuya would get just for himself.
Really now.]
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He pulls his legs up, curling his body around the coffee cup, which he holds with both hands.]
Have you really been on the floor the whole time?
[Really, Dazai? That's not making him worry less.]
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[His tone was light. And useless, with the face Chuuya was making.
Dazai sat up and picked up the bag Chuuya brought to examine the contents.]
Told you it wasn't real.
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[He's not exactly sure what he felt, just that it's impossible to shake now that he has. And he's still not sure why Dazai sent him that image, even if he does know he didn't do it on purpose.
He lets Dazai grab a pastry if he wants. He'll just steal the bag back in a moment.]
Part of that deal we made is that I don't let you die.
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The deal was an ever convenient excuse. At the moment, it was an inconvenient device that allowed Chuuya a chance to pull out more answers.
Dazai supposed he might as well put off polishing the pastry. Chuuya talking about feeling that image put him off his appetite, though he wouldn't admit that.
No way to avoid explaining this, was there, when telepathy was going to be a major means of communication.]
That's right. However, it doesn't cover imagined scenarios. [Dazai hid his lips behind the croissant.] Not that it happens often, nor is it something to be concerned with.
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Yeah, exactly. There's still the deal.]
It does include saving you from your own idiocy. [Technically, no, it doesn't.] Even if I have to drag you back over a railing by your hair.
[He thumps his head back against the cupboards, closing his eyes. His coffee has gone sudden cold, and he's shivering hard.]
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Quite a jump, from slipping on ice to falling off somewhere. [His smile was mirthless as he slipped off his coat and threw it at Chuuya's face.] Not the way you planned on getting rid of me, is it.
How miserable you look. Regretting the deal already?
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But then he pulls it over himself a little gratefully.]
I regretted the deal before I even made it.
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[He knew the exact reason why Chuuya pushed through with the deal, just as he already anticipated this minor detour wouldn't be enough to distract that incoming line of questions.
The hatrack wasn't that incompetent, sinking his teeth and digging his heels on the ground as he did for matters he decided needed urgent attention.]
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[Yeah, he's not answering that rhetorical question, he's turning it right around on Dazai instead. Out of the two of them, Chuuya is the one who depends on having teammates.
Dazai just abandons his.]
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Convenient that Dazai had long settled for the fact that Chuuya would never know the full details behind his departure.
He made a vague hand gesture.] Our respective affiliations are meaningless here. Neither will it matter whenever we return to Yokohama should you forget your time in this place.
Rather advantageous for you, no?
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Loyalties are not something you throw aside when it’s convenient. It doesn’t matter where I am, Dazai. Though I know it’s a meaningless concept for you.
[He’s at least pretty successfully distracted for now?? He lifts his coffee to take a sip, to warm himself - then makes a face when he realizes it’s nearly frozen.]
[1/2]
Dazai huffed and took a large bite from his pastry. Would've tasted better if he had an appetite, and now all he could think about was its texture.]
I see your Ability's corroded your brain. [No, he hadn't swallowed before that first line. Now he did.] No wonder Ranpo was able to goad you in that kind of emergency, even though you had such responsibility riding on your shoulders.
[2/2]
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Chuuya doesn't care. He has already spun around on the floor, hand closing around Dazai's throat and shoving him back against the cupboards. His fingers are also ice cold, stiff. He ignores it. His violent shivering won't take away from the fact that he's had enough.]
Tell me, how is it that your toy agency is even willing to put up with you.
[He tightens his grip, fingers close to Dazai's pulse point.]
You're a damn coward.
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(Would this even solve anything in the end, when all was said and done and memories crumbled to dust that could not cross the fabric between worlds?)
And so, having already predicted he'd be attacked, Dazai let him, his body relaxed with only a loose grip on the other's wrist.
Chuuya always did like going for the throat when it came to him, a painless gesture threatening silence and asphyxiation that also served to keep them at eye level. The cold was a new sensation though, seeping the warmth away from his neck.]
Is calling me a coward your response to everything?
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He presses forward, using his weight instead to put more strength into his grip.]
Yeah. It's always the same problem with you. Even after four years.
[Speaking of eye-level, he's leaning pretty close as well.]
Is insulting me your solution to every problem?
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Hypothermia?
Dazai's eyes narrowed, and he traced the line of Chuuya's wrist with his thumb.]
It's warranted right now with how you're mishearing things. [His tone was cool and distant.] Do go on, and I might have to break out later with a makeshift ice pick.
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So be clearer.
[He's not always in the mood to waste energy analyzing Dazai's words.]
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You aren't obliged to report what you don't remember. Neither is there proof that any of our actions affect what's going on in Yokohama.
Your loyalty is not in question, Chuuya.
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