(no subject)
[Chuuya had felt groggy and unfocused since he woke up, a feeling not even coffee had been able to make a dent in. He'd gotten to work purely on muscle memory, and then he'd mostly stared at his desk until Kouyou dropped by for lunch and ordered him to go home and sleep it off.
He wasn't sure there was anything to sleep off, but he didn't argue with his Ane-san.
And then he'd gone home, and passed out, and woken up about an hour later as panic gripped his chest tight.
Dazai.
He had to find Dazai.
He hurried out of his apartment, grabbed his motorcycle for speed, and set off in the direction of Dazai's place. Would he even be at his place? Or with that Agency of his? He'd check both, if he had to, although he'd prefer not having to explain to any stray agency members that he wasn't there to kill them. So he'd check his apartment first, and maybe call him from there.
It was only when he parked his bike outside Dazai's building that he realized he wasn't sure what he was panicking about.
Dazai has nothing to do with him anymore, but there was something, a thought buried behind the fog of his brain that told him there was more. Something was supposed to have changed--
Shit.
His head hurt. He hadn't been drinking, and it didn't feel like a hangover, but it did feel similar to a blackout. Dazai and he had been--
Dancing?
No, that made no sense. Chuuya headed into the building, and climbed the stairs, five at a time because he didn't have time for gravity.
They'd been in the city and--
That city.
Chuuya stopped, hand raised to knock, as a few memories started to come back to him. It wasn't possible. Someone had planted that in his head somehow.
They had been dancing. ]
DAZAI!
[He shouted through the door and then knocked hard, making the door shake.]
OPEN UP, DAZAI.
He wasn't sure there was anything to sleep off, but he didn't argue with his Ane-san.
And then he'd gone home, and passed out, and woken up about an hour later as panic gripped his chest tight.
Dazai.
He had to find Dazai.
He hurried out of his apartment, grabbed his motorcycle for speed, and set off in the direction of Dazai's place. Would he even be at his place? Or with that Agency of his? He'd check both, if he had to, although he'd prefer not having to explain to any stray agency members that he wasn't there to kill them. So he'd check his apartment first, and maybe call him from there.
It was only when he parked his bike outside Dazai's building that he realized he wasn't sure what he was panicking about.
Dazai has nothing to do with him anymore, but there was something, a thought buried behind the fog of his brain that told him there was more. Something was supposed to have changed--
Shit.
His head hurt. He hadn't been drinking, and it didn't feel like a hangover, but it did feel similar to a blackout. Dazai and he had been--
Dancing?
No, that made no sense. Chuuya headed into the building, and climbed the stairs, five at a time because he didn't have time for gravity.
They'd been in the city and--
That city.
Chuuya stopped, hand raised to knock, as a few memories started to come back to him. It wasn't possible. Someone had planted that in his head somehow.
They had been dancing. ]
DAZAI!
[He shouted through the door and then knocked hard, making the door shake.]
OPEN UP, DAZAI.

no subject
[If Dazai was here, he'd make sure Chuuya would be alone. Chuuya wouldn't be surprised if it was Dazai's fault that he was alone, if he'd made sure his company would be busy. Although for once, he wasn't suspicious by default.
And he also didn't care. He couldn't help the way he'd much rather spend time with Dazai.]
I'll let your presence in Port Mafia territory slide for now. [A pause.] You haven't found anything?
no subject
[An echo of Chuuya's line, and a bet. There were a lot of details hidden from him when Chuuya visited his apartment, and while Dazai had done his best to dig around, there wasn't anything of note.]
You haven't done anything of note to become the target of that sort of attention. Removing you from the field without either destroying you, making your delusion perfect, or coming up with a thorough brainwashing method is a disservice to those who wish you permanent harm.
[Unlike Ranpo, who ultimately chose a method that gave Chuuya an out - albeit one that would still disable him as long as the Agency didn't have a way of handling the petite mafia.]
So, Chuuya. You truly have no idea why you were targeted with an inconsequential non-Ability?
no subject
It probably wasn't a good idea to get drunk if he wanted to keep secrets, though.]
Not unless you believe that the world needed my help to restore it.
[That was the line, wasn't it? He'd never cared about it much while there - his responsibility was to his men, not to some strange planet.
Of course, now that he was back, he hadn't been much help to his Organization. He'd been unfocused, his mind elsewhere. He'd been thinking about Dazai, trying to sort out which memories of him were real and which weren't. How realistic any of it was.
Was everything that happened just Chuuya's unconscious, pathetic desire?]
I'm always the target of that sort of attention. [Don't insult him. He has enough enemies, and he's proud of it.] But you're right, they did a shit job if they tried to take me out of play. I have better enemies than that.
So it's probably something else.
[As long as it's not just a delusion.]
no subject
Indeed.
[He sipped from his glass. Hmm. A nostalgic drink, in the moment of another's recollection. Shall he ask for a photo to be taken..?
(Don't jinx it, Dazai.)]
Don't think your reluctance escaped my notice.
What was I up to, in that vision of yours?
no subject
Chuuya just shrugged at being called out like that.]
If I didn't tell you then, why the hell would I tell you now?
[He needs some distance here. Going over to Dazai had been a mistake. Going to Dazai's apartment that day had been a worse mistake, but he hadn't known that. The asshole never let anything go.
Chuuya shouldn't trust him. Definitely couldn't count on him. He repeated that like a mantra in his head to make his conflicting feelings go away.]
If no one is after me, we can both just forget about it.
no subject
[More straight to the point than usual, when whatever affected Chuuya to this degree was worthy of Dazai's interest. One more facet of his selfishness, perhaps, and he couldn't help but meddle.]
Regardless of whether there's an actual threat or not, you're going to stay like that, because it's not something you can use your typical brutish ways on. Why, that must be special brain-eating worm they slipped in your ear - it's able to survive on air and wine fumes!
no subject
[He barely resisted downing his wine. It would be a waste of a -- not good, but semi-decent drink, and he knew if he got drunk he'd end up telling Dazai everything. Because he really wanted to.
But at the same time, he was such an ass, pushing all the right buttons to raise his hackles.]
Not like you're being useful, either. Did you accidentally kill off all your braincells in your latest suicide attempt?
Come back when you know something worth keeping you alive for, traitor.
no subject
[He was being awfully combative today. In other words, being made to recall whatever he saw was something of a pain for him.
Actually - here, have a refill, never mind that Dazai could only pour only a fifth of the glass with how full it still was. Tempted to make yourself feel better about this whole debacle, aren't you?]
If you didn't think I was your best option to solve this, you wouldn't have come to me in the first place.
Let's start with the basics: how long did you perceive yourself to be in that world?
no subject
[Shit, no, don't admit that, Chuuya. He took his now too-full glass and drank about half of it, glowering down at the bar top for a moment.]
I'm starting to think expulsion might be worth it. Besides, I can probably get away with hiding your body. Everyone will just think you left again.
[See? Flawless plan.
He wasn't going to do that.]
About five months.
no subject
You forget who we're up against. Even if you caused me to vanish, that man will have to search for me to assess if I am no longer a threat.
Even if no one from the Agency or Mafia figure it out, he might.
[That person's attention to detail and memory were frighteningly sharp.
No, Dazai didn't believe Chuuya would dispose of him just yet. But if they were talking about hypothetical scenarios, there was one for you, slug.]
Five months of no mafia-related problems, is it? It sounds like a vacation, although knowing your workaholic habits, you'd be desperate to come home.
[More like, Chuuya needed to ensure the mafia was safe.]
no subject
Chuuya wasn't a bad liar, necessarily. But the people who knew him usually saw through him anyway.]
The execution order will come eventually.
[Probably. And when it did -- Chuuya didn't want Dazai dead, didn't think he could do it, instinctively wanted to protect him just at the thought.
Shit. This whole thing had messed with him. It was screwing with his sense of loyalty.]
Of course I wanted to get back. I don't owe anything to some strange world, even if it is falling apart.
My responsibilities are here.
no subject
However I bite the dust, it'll be sweet if it was painless. I'd ask if you've spotted a beauty I can go on a double suicide with, but I'd rather not get a recommendation from you.
Now, if you're conscious in reality, does this mean you were able to find a way to get out? Or was that world saved, and you were allowed to return in spite of your non-participation?
no subject
[Dazai had told him in that place that he was worse when he was alone, but was that even true? Was that another one of Chuuya's own wishes - that his partner needed him.]
You'll doubt you're real, until you're not.
[It didn't matter if Chuuya had imagined it or not, when he didn't have any other ammunition to use. He wanted Dazai to react. ]
Tch. I don't know the answer to that. I just woke up here again.
I'd even been thinking about helping out, since I was stuck there anyway.
no subject
The mirth drained out of him, though he kept on smiling, cradling his drink as he watched the ice clink on the glass. Well, well. If those mentions weren't accidents, whoever this person was that caused Chuuya to know of such things deserved a personal visit and a rather lengthy interview.
Only Odasaku and perhaps Ango had guessed about that particular discomfort of Dazai's, and Ango wasn't going to mention that to anyone, with how, in Dazai's estimations, the issue was too close to home.]
How unimaginative, as far as the deaths you usually fantasize about are concerned.
[Delivered as easily as possible. Dazai flicked the rim of his whiskey glass.]
And you were starting to acclimate yourself when you were pulled away. Then, could it be that whoever set that up wanted to whisk you away as soon as you began to let your guard down?
[There wasn't a strong case for that conclusion. However, he wanted to see Chuuya's reaction, on if he had enjoyed his stay in that fantasy land.]
no subject
Fucking react, dammit.
Chuuya tipped back his glass, not caring that wine wasn't meant to be downed. He needed it, if he was going to deal with Dazai. He could feel his focus slipping a little, the alcohol hitting him fast, as it always did.
If he drank enough, Dazai wouldn't be able to get anything useful out of him. Maybe that was the way to get rid of him.]
Do you really want me to give you specifics?
[He didn't want Dazai to die.
Chuuya turned quickly to look at him at that theory, eyes slightly wide. That -- would make sense, if the idea was to fuck with him, fuck with his loyalty, make him question what he really wanted. Was the idea to shake his position? Make him less reliable for the boss?
He refilled his glass again.]
Your theories don't mean anything if you can't find the culprit.
no subject
You forget that investigations are also reliant on information. My source refuses to talk, and it's useless to reveal all the dead ends I've reached.
[And hmm, that reaction. About as expected, when the loyal dog cared only for protecting what was important to him, so much so that his very fears were woven to that.
He reached for the bottle. More wine, Chuuya?]
no subject
Then go with that theory. What the hell would be the point?
[He knows what the point is, he just can’t talk about it. Maybe he should grab the bottle back from Dazai and make a run for it.
Although Dazai knew where he lived. ] Ahhh
no subject
It's difficult and costly to match Chuuya in terms of raw firepower. Hence, the opponent has to resort to trickery. The cage Ranpo-san prepared for you is one thing. The cage of the mind, however, is more potent, and no ability nullification is a match for it.
[Morale, he meant. Mind games. What was the use of a gun when its wielder was too shaken to use it?]
no subject
[Chuuya took the glass, but held himself back from drinking it. It sounded like that might have been the plan. It made sense.]
They miscalculated, then. Now I want to destroy them even more.
[The only one this benefitted was Dazai, and he wasn't the one who did this to him.]
My loyalties haven't changed. [Much.] They should have made me see something else if they wanted that to change.
[He might be saying this to reassure himself more than anything else. He won't falter. He won't fail. ]
no subject
[There were more potent ways to shake up Chuuya. Dazai could guess what they were - despair and Chuuya were two matters he knew well.
Well, that was neither here nor there. This, so far, was only speculation.]
By the way, are you sure you hadn't eaten anything funny before you had that vision?
[Probably not, but he still had to ask.
(There was a hint of desperation in CHuuya's tone that he didn't like. This kind of doubt was also troublesome for someone normally so confident.)]
no subject
Plus, he didn’t know how.
More wine, then.]
Of course not. [He only eats quality food. ] Would that even give memories like this? Even if I was somehow drugged, it wouldn’t be like this, right?
no subject
[He knows where to get shrooms. Just saying. Feel free to ask Atsushi for proof.]
no subject
Definitely not. My head is enough of a mess right now.
no subject
Then taking it shouldn't make much of a difference.
no subject
[Says the guy well on his way to getting plastered.]
I’m just going to go home and pass out.
[Or go somewhere and pick a fight. Same thing. ]
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)