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There was a particular person in a particular soapland in a particular town just outside of uptown Yokohama that Dazai simply couldn’t get out of his head these past few months, no matter how hard he tried. That redhead with the stunning blue eyes and the small figure that he had learned after his fifth visit to the place was the owner’s son. The relationship between that person and the owner, Ozaki Kouyou, was something that Dazai had predicted after seeing the two standing next to each other. He was the spitting image of her; they looked nearly identical. What he hadn’t predicted, though, was that person’s supposed gender, and that was the first thing that caught Dazai’s attention.
He wore a women’s kimono that was a shade of deep purple each time that Dazai saw him, accented with red trim and a red ribbon tied in the front, and various red and white flowers decorating the fabric. His lips were always painted red and his eyelids painted purple. His hair was always tied up and pinned back with a fake stargazer lily. Dazai had been under the impression that he was a woman until that fifth visit, and even now, he still wasn’t sure that this person was a man.
He wasn’t like the other men that Dazai had seen that dressed in drag to entertain other men. He wasn’t over the top and flashy. He didn’t work in a club. He held the same demeanor whether he was with a customer or not. Everyone, whether owner, staff, or client, called him by only one name.
Chuuya.
Nakahara Chuuya.
The name rolled off of Dazai’s tongue like a line in a poem when he spoke it out loud to himself, alone in his high-rise office or his penthouse apartment. He wasn’t sure what compelled him to speak it, other than the fact that it felt as soft in his mouth as Chuuya’s skin looked in his eyes. The skin that he hadn’t dared to touch yet despite how quickly his curiosity was growing. Though, in the end, that was exactly why he hadn’t requested Chuuya’s services before.
Dazai went to that soapland to get away from his work and to have a good time. The Golden Demon was a small place in a small town, but business thrived because of the quality of the staff and the somewhat untraditional services that were offered, which drew in regular customers, such as Dazai himself. It was far enough away from where he lived that he wouldn’t be caught visiting and ruin his reputation, but close enough that he could frequent there. He requested a different woman each time he went, sometimes paying for the entire experience, other times just bits and parts of it. He hadn’t found one that pleased him more than the others yet, but he did treat all of them with dignity and respect. At the end of the day, though, he was there for sex or a bath, sometimes both, but never to form a lasting relationship with a client.
Chuuya was different. Dazai was attracted to him, yes, but not merely sexually. Dazai wasn’t aroused by Chuuya’s exposed shoulders or the bit of his chest that was always exposed as much as he just wanted to sit and admire Chuuya’s beauty, like a painting in a museum. He didn’t want to hear Chuuya moaning his name as much as he simply wanted to hear Chuuya ask what it was. He didn’t want Chuuya to talk dirty to him as much as he wanted to simply hold an intellectual conversation. He wanted to understand Chuuya and everything that made him as graceful and charming as he was. It would take more than a bath, a massage, and sex to give him what he wanted from Chuuya.
Sex certainly wouldn’t be the worst place to start, though.
Chuuya had seen that man many times before over the past three months. He’d come in once every couple of weeks and ask for a different girl and a different set of services each time. He was quite the mysterious client, and Chuuya found himself wishing more and more often lately that the man would ask for him next time he came around. Though, that was probably far too much to hope for.
Customers who considered Chuuya were all made aware of the fact that, biologically, he was not a woman. He didn’t much care what people called him or saw him as. He had never felt like he fit into the modern world’s definition of male or female. But the fact still remained that certain people in this world would only sleep with you if you had a specific kind of body, and perhaps that man just wasn’t interested in other “male” bodies.
If that was the case, Chuuya would continue to observe him from afar. Chuuya believed himself to be a pretty good judge of character, especially when it came down to the clients who entered The Golden Demon, but that man was a complete mystery to him. He was no older than Chuuya was and yet he had the money to come in and pay for different services quite often. He’d heard from the other girls that his arms, neck, and most of his torso were always bandaged and that he would never take them off, even for baths and massages. He was smug and snarky, but he was always kind and respectful. All of the staff that had worked with him before seemed to adore him, more so than any other customer that they’d ever had.
Dazai was what they called him.
Just Dazai.
Chuuya was pleasantly surprised the day that Dazai came into the soapland and the receptionist told him that Dazai had requested him specifically by name. He was told that the only service Dazai wanted today was sex. With a raised eyebrow, Chuuya followed the receptionist into the lobby to greet the client who continued to intrigue him.
Chuuya said nothing in the lobby. He only greeted Dazai with a bow and a coy smile. When Dazai smiled back at him, he turned and began to walk towards a set of stairs that led up to the second floor of the small house-like building, curling his fingers to beckon Dazai to follow him.
Dazai knew the drill. He bowed to the receptionist before walking quickly towards the stairs, keeping up with Chuuya as they ascended together. On the second floor, there was a sitting parlor which branched off into two hallways, each leading to five bedrooms. Chuuya led Dazai to the very last room in the east hallway and opened the door for him. After he had stepped inside, Chuuya followed and carefully closed the door behind them.
“Your name is Dazai, correct?” Chuuya asked, his voice soft and gentle, just like everything else about him.
Dazai’s smile widened. “Yep, that’s me,” he replied, briefly rocking back on his heels. “And your name is Nakahara, right?”
Chuuya once again raised an eyebrow. As far as he knew, Dazai referred to all of the other women by their given names, and none of Chuuya’s clients had ever referred to him by his surname before. Not even the few women that he had served.
“My customers usually refer to me as Chuuya,” he said, batting his eyelids subtly.
Dazai raised an eyebrow back at him. “Don’t guy prostitutes usually have people call them by their surnames?” he asked.
By the tone of Dazai’s voice, Chuuya would assume that Dazai was familiar with male prostitutes. Chuuya was inclined to assume that that meant that Dazai had paid for men before. Once again, Dazai had given him something to be intrigued by, and something that surprised him.
He pouted slightly. “Prostitute is such a crude word, Dazai,” he complained. “We know it’s old-fashioned, but we much prefer the term ‘courtesan’ here.”
Dazai blinked once, then smiled faintly, somewhat baffled. “My apologies, Nakahara,” he said, giving a slight bow, “but don’t guy courtesans usually have people call them by their surnames?”
Chuuya simply shrugged, gracefully making his way past Dazai and towards the bed. “Well, I wouldn’t consider myself a man.”
“Oh,” Dazai said, blinking again. “Then, you’re a woman, after all?”
Chuuya shrugged again, turning around, slowly sitting down on the bed and letting his kimono lay out across the silk sheets. “No, not really.”
“Then what are you?” Dazai inquired.
“I am everything, and at the same time, also nothing,” Chuuya replied.
He pushed himself further back onto the bed and curled his fingers for Dazai to follow him once again.
Dazai stood still for a moment before complying, slowly stepping forward and kneeling onto the bed, never taking his eyes off of Chuuya.
“Can I ask you something?” he requested as Chuuya began to tug at the ribbon around his waist.
Chuuya looked up from the ribbon momentarily to raise an eyebrow at Dazai once more. “I suppose so,” he said.
“Do you know that you are being underpaid?” Dazai asked, shifting off of his knees and sitting cross-legged on the bed.
Chuuya furrowed his brows as the ribbon on his kimono came undone. “What do you mean?”
“I pay more to have sex with the other courtesans than they asked me to pay for you. It was all nearly the same for the other courtesans but lower for you. Did you know that?”
Chuuya resisted the urge to scoff at Dazai. “It’s not because I’m being underpaid. It’s because I provide a different kind of service,” he corrected, pulling the ribbon away from his waist, folding it up, and placing it neatly on the bedside table.
Dazai furrowed his brows, confused. “What do you mean? I’m paying you for sex, aren’t I?”
“A man having sex with a man is different from a man having sex with a woman.”
“But I thought you weren’t a man or a woman?”
Unlike the scoff, Chuuya couldn’t suppress his sigh.
“Look, I have a dick, alright? The law says prostitution is illegal and defines prostitution as ‘paying for or receiving payment for coital sex with an unspecified person.’ So if you’re having regular old dick-in-vagina sex with a girl that you don’t know and you’re paying her for it, that’s illegal and she could get in trouble. You fucking me up the ass or us having any other form of intercourse? Not technically illegal. You pay more for traditional sex with the women because they have a more dangerous job than I do.”
Dazai folded his arms over his chest and stared down at the sheets. “Huh,” he huffed, “I actually had no clue it worked like that.” He looked up from the sheets and smiled a little at Chuuya again. “Guess you learn something new every day!”
Chuuya pulled the clip out of his hair and let it fall down over his face, then turned his head to the side so that he could eyeroll without Dazai seeing it.
He set the clip on the nightstand with the ribbon. Then, he slipped his kimono off as slowly and sensually as he could manage. He folded it up and leaned over the side of the bed to place it carefully on the floor. Finally, he laid back on the bed and looked up at Dazai.
“So, how would you like me?”
It was only then that Dazai began to undo the tie that was around his neck.
“What’s your preferred position?” he asked, tossing the tie onto the nightstand with Chuuya’s ribbon and hairclip.
Chuuya stared at him blankly in surprise. “My preferred position…?” he asked.
None of his other clients had ever asked him that before. He did whatever they wanted him to do. That was what he was being paid for; to make them happy, not the other way around.
“Yeah,” Dazai replied, unbuttoning his jacket and slipping it off. “I mean, you’re working in your mom’s soapland, so that means you’ve been around all of this for a while, right? There’s gotta be some position you prefer over the others. What do you feel most comfortable with?”
Chuuya narrowed his eyes at Dazai. “How do you know that my mother owns this place?” he asked suspiciously.
Dazai stared down at him. “I’ve been coming here for three months. I’m familiar with the staff. I do talk to people outside of being serviced. Your mother doesn’t exactly keep the fact that you’re her child a secret.”
Chuuya averted his gaze. “Well, why do you care about my preferred position or what’s comfortable for me? You’re the customer, you get what you want.”
Dazai frowned slightly. “Well, yeah, but won’t it be much better for both of us if I ask you to do something that you’re comfortable with and that will give you pleasure too? I don’t even really care. There’s not a lot that I’m uncomfortable with or that doesn’t feel any good to me, that’s why I ask. So, how would you like to serve me?”
Chuuya paused for a moment, then started to laugh softly. He pressed his face into his hands to hide his growing smile. Dazai frowned a little more and continued to stare down at Chuuya.
“What’s so funny?” he asked.
It took a few moments for Chuuya to calm down. He took deep breaths to try and quiet his laughter. He rubbed his eyes with his fingers before he finally pulled his hands away from his face.
“You’re so peculiar, Dazai,” he answered. “Everything about you is a mystery to me. I don’t understand you at all, but I’ve been trying to figure you out for so long. Everything about you seems… Impossible.”
Dazai’s expression softened and his eyes widened just a tad. “Oh? Is that so?”
“Yes, that’s so,” Chuuya replied.
Dazai remained silent for a moment, but then he began to laugh as well.
“Funny, because I’ve felt the same way about you ever since the first time I saw you.”
“Oh? Is that so?” Chuuya echoed with a slight smirk.
Dazai’s smile widened. “Yes, that’s so.”
“What about me makes me so intriguing?” Chuuya asked.
“Well, everything! Everything about you is graceful and mysterious! I have so many questions I’d like to ask!”
Dazai gasped quietly as an idea entered his head.
“So let’s skip the sex!” he exclaimed, then leaned over the side of the bed to grab Chuuya’s discarded kimono.
Chuuya furrowed his brow. “Wait, what?”
Dazai gently took Chuuya’s hand into his own and pulled Chuuya into a sitting position, then draped the kimono over Chuuya’s shoulders.
“Put this back on, and we’ll just talk to each other instead.”
Chuuya glanced at his shoulder, then up at Dazai. “But you paid to have sex,” he said, confused.
“Screw what I paid for! All I really wanted was to learn more about you,” Dazai admitted. “You can ask me anything you want, and if there’s something I ask that you don’t want to answer, you don’t have to. Plus, you’ll still get the money! There’s really no downside, if you think about it.”
Chuuya paused for a moment to think about the offer. Eventually, he slipped his arms into the sleeves of his kimono and pulled it closed around his body. He shifted into a more comfortable position on the bed and then looked at Dazai.
“Okay. If you want to talk, let’s talk.”
Dazai clapped his hands in delight.
“Okay! I’ll ask a question first, and then you can ask one! We’ll take turns like that!”
Chuuya huffed briefly, smiling faintly. “Alright, what’s your first question?”
Dazai cupped his chin in his hand and hummed in thought, then looked at Chuuya again. “Is Nakahara Chuuya your real name, or is it a stage name of sorts?”
Chuuya feigned a shocked gasp and covered his mouth with his fingertips. “Oh, Dazai, what a personal question. I wasn’t expecting you to be so… Forward,” he teased.
Dazai smirked. “What can I say?” he asked, leaning closer to Chuuya, “Beauty like yours brings out the boldness in me.”
Chuuya let his hand fall into his lap and pulled his kimono up on his shoulder a little more. “Yes, my real name is Nakahara Chuuya. Most clients seem to think that my given name is cute, or whatever, and I just never felt the need to change it. Not everyone does.”
“You know, I’m inclined to agree. Chuuya is a very cute name, and it suits you. It sounds soft and small, like you!” Dazai mused.
Chuuya snorted. “I may have a petite frame, but believe me, I’m not as soft as you think I am.”
“Oh, really?” Dazai asked. “Then what are you?”
“Ah-ah-ah,” Chuuya dismissed, waving his index finger in Dazai’s face, “I get to ask a question before you get another one.”
Dazai pouted at him playfully. “Oh, alright. What’s your question?”
“What’s your given name?” Chuuya asked. “Around here, we only know you as ‘Dazai.’”
“It’s Osamu,” Dazai replied.
“Huh,” Chuuya huffed, tilting his head a little, “I wouldn't have guessed that. You don’t look like an Osamu.”
Dazai raised an eyebrow. “Then what do I look like?”
Chuuya shrugged. “A Shinji or a Shuuji, or maybe Mamoru,” he replied.
Dazai chortled softly. “You’ve certainly put a lot of thought into this, haven’t you?”
“What else was I supposed to do? Not put any thought at all into the mysterious frequenter of our soapland?”
Dazai rolled his eyes. “Okay, well, now can you tell me what you are if you’re not soft?”
“Nope!” Chuuya said with a grin.
Dazai frowned. “Why not?”
“Because you already asked a question when you asked what I thought your name should be. Now it’s my turn again.”
“What!? But that wasn’t supposed to count, that’s not fair!” Dazai protested.
“It was a question, wasn’t it?” Chuuya asked.
Dazai opened his mouth to protest again, but then closed it, smirking. “Yes, but so was that, so it’s my turn again.”
Chuuya’s mouth dropped open. “Dammit!”
Dazai laughed.
Chuuya huffed and folded his arms over his chest. “Fine, if you want to know so badly, I’m a raging ball of fire who can drop kick your ass in negative three seconds and who does not take disrespect of any kind from anyone. I’m far from being as submissive and obedient as most of the other courtesans here. I’ve driven customers out of here for so much as looking at me the wrong way.”
Dazai blinked in surprise, then laughed again. “Oh, I can see it now,” he said. “If your attitude is this explosive, sleeping with you must be a wild time.”
“Well, you could find out if you wanted. You did pay for it, after all,” Chuuya said, giving Dazai a sultry look.
“Perhaps at another time,” Dazai said. “I’ll definitely come back to see you again. But I’m having fun just talking to you right now.”
“That’s not something you usually hear from someone paying for a courtesan,” Chuuya said.
Dazai shrugged. “Well, I’d hardly call myself a usual person.”
Chuuya huffed, “Clearly.”
“Well, what else would you like to know about me?” Dazai inquired.
“What are you like outside of this soapland, Mister Dazai Osamu?”
“Oh, I’m not much different from what you see here,” Dazai said. “I’m witty, charming, humorous, mysterious…”
Chuuya rolled his eyes. “Oh, yeah, you’re very charming,” he said with a sarcastic lilt in his voice.
“Well, you certainly seem to be quite charmed by me,” Dazai crooned.
Chuuya raised an eyebrow. “What makes you think that?”
“You said I was peculiar. You said you wanted to figure me out,” Dazai recalled.
“Just because you make me curious doesn't mean that I am in any way attracted to or charmed by you,” Chuuya said.
“Am I not attractive, either?” Dazai asked, frowning playfully.
Chuuya feigned a yawn, once again covering his mouth with his fingertips. “Shaggy brown hair, deep chocolate eyes, plump lips always curled into a quiet smirk…” He ran a hand through his own hair, mussing it up slightly. “No, there isn’t anything attractive about you at all.”
“Well, if you aren’t charmed by me, and you aren’t attracted to me, why did you agree to have a conversation with me?” Dazai asked.
“The customer gets what he wants,” Chuuya replied simply, “whether it’s hot and heavy sex or a simple conversation. It makes no difference to me as long as I get the money.”
“That’s an awfully harsh thing to say,” Dazai said.
“No it isn’t,” Chuuya dismissed. “It’s just my job. I’m a courtesan. You’re a client. There isn’t anything else between us. You’re nothing special.”
“I suppose that’s true,” Dazai relented, “but a courtesan is supposed to make their client feel special, aren’t they?”
“If you wanted that from me, you should have specified that you didn't want an honest conversation,” Chuuya returned.
Dazai laughed softly again. “No, I think I like honest conversation. Especially with someone as opinionated as you.”
Chuuya hummed lightly. “Most clients prefer their courtesans quiet and agreeable.”
Dazai gave him a sly look. “I thought we established already that I’m not ‘most clients.’”
“Oh, of course,” Chuuya said, “how could I have possibly forgotten?”
He glanced behind Dazai, up at the clock that was hanging on the wall across from them. Afterwards, he leaned over towards the nightstand to grab his ribbon off of it. He wrapped it around his waist and began to tie his kimono closed.
“Unfortunately, it would seem as though our hearty conversation must come to a close now,” he said, then looked at Dazai again, “unless you’d like to pay for another half hour.”
Dazai smiled wryly. “Oh, I’d love to, but I didn’t bring enough cash with me for that today.”
Chuuya shrugged and grabbed Dazai’s tie off of the nightstand. “I suppose we’ll have to pick this up another time, then,” he said, handing the tie to Dazai.
“Oh yes,” Dazai replied, taking the tie from Chuuya and beginning to tie it around his neck again, “we’ll definitely be picking this up again in the future.”
He slipped off of the bed and picked his jacket up off of the bed. He pulled it on, buttoned it up, and adjusted his tie just a little. He turned to look at Chuuya again.
“Do I look presentable?” he asked.
“Like we never actually fucked,” Chuuya said with a teasing grin.
He climbed off of the bed after grabbing his hairclip from the nightstand and stepped in front of Dazai. Dazai followed him to the front of the room and went out of the door when Chuuya opened it for him. Chuuya led him back down to the lobby, then gave him a bow and a smile before retreating to the room behind the receptionist’s desk. Dazai said his goodbyes to the receptionist and then left the building.
He came back a week later, once again asking for Chuuya specifically by name and paying the full price of having sex with him for half an hour, but asked simply to talk with him instead. He came again two weeks from then, then three weeks, then a week after that. Each conversation was more interesting than the last. Each conversation became more engaging the better they got to know one another.
Dazai learned that even outside of the soapland, Chuuya still dressed in women’s clothes on occasion. No one was ever able to tell that he wasn’t actually a woman. But having seen Chuuya presenting himself femininely so many times, Dazai was far more curious about what Chuuya would look like if he were wearing a suit and tie instead of a dress.
Chuuya learned that Dazai was a businessman and that he worked for an electronics company. He was young but he was a hard worker, and that made him successful and wealthy. He was single, he’d never been married, and he liked to visit soaplands just to have a good time and lay off the stress of his job. Talking to Chuuya had quickly become the most relaxing thing that Dazai had in his life.
Dazai learned that Chuuya wasn’t biologically related to Ozaki Kouyou, despite how similar they were to one another. Kouyou had found him on the streets as a child and had decided to take him in. He was raised in the red-light district until Kouyou opened her own soapland and they moved to a quieter part of town. Already knowing how the industry worked and knowing that the clients enjoyed his looks, when he was old enough to, Chuuya decided that he would stay in Kouyou’s soapland and become one of her courtesans.
In addition to the deep conversation about their lives outside of the soapland, their hobbies, their political opinions, and everything else, there was an attraction between them that played into their dialogue and their actions. Despite what Chuuya had said the first time that Dazai had requested his services, Dazai was a very handsome and charming person, and it was no secret that Dazai believed that Chuuya was the most beautiful person that he had ever seen.
They flirted with each other. They teased each other with ghostlike touches and barbed words. The wit between them was somehow affectionate despite the fact that it was all sarcasm. Anyone who could have overheard them would have just thought that it was friendly or rivalrous banter, but somehow, it was all more than that.
And Chuuya learned, very suddenly one visit, that Dazai was in love with him, and that he was in love with Dazai.
“Dazai… Why do you keep paying to come see me? You always pay to sleep with me but you just come to talk. Why do you waste money on that?”
It was a question that had been bothering Chuuya for some time. If Dazai didn’t want to sleep with him, then Chuuya would be happy to talk to Dazai outside of the soapland, but Dazai had never suggested that. Chuuya couldn’t understand why Dazai would pay such a high price for his company if all Dazai wanted was his voice.
The smile that had previously been gracing Dazai’s features disappeared in favor of a more neutral expression. “I told you before, I never really cared about the sex. I just wanted to understand you.”
“But why would you pay for that when it’s something that you could do outside of this place? How come you never asked for my number or asked which days I’m not working on, or something? Why does our relationship only exist inside of this bedroom?” Chuuya asked.
Dazai pursed his lips lightly. “I… I just assumed you were only humoring me because I was a customer. That’s what you said the first time I was here, isn’t it? I didn’t have any reason to believe our relationship had changed or that it would ever change.”
Chuuya slowly reached his fingers up to brush some of Dazai’s hair out of his face, pouting ever so slightly. “I think you and I both know very well that we surpassed the level of simply courtesan and customer long ago, Dazai.”
Dazai clasped Chuuya’s hand in his own and pulled it closer to his lips, not taking his eyes off of Chuuya for a moment. He pressed kisses to Chuuya’s fingertips, then let Chuuya’s hand slip from his grasp. Chuuya offered him a faint smirk.
“You’re right, I did know,” Dazai told him. “I just needed to hear you say it out loud.”
Dazai kept visiting after that, but not to pay for Chuuya’s time. Instead of dropping cash on a courtesan that he wasn’t actually going to sleep with, he came by on Chuuya’s days off to take him out to lunch. Their conversations no longer took place in that bedroom, nor were they constrained to only half an hour at a time. Instead, they took place over restaurant tables or in the fresh air while they walked together and continued over text messages after Dazai was gone. He never paid to see other girls, and it was getting harder for Chuuya to enjoy the work that he was doing for other men.
At some point, Chuuya made the decision that he didn’t to work as a courtesan anymore. Not because Dazai thought that there was anything wrong with it but simply because Chuuya didn’t find any pleasure or joy in it, especially now that he had fallen in love with a previous client. He wasn’t sure how his mother would take it, though. He didn’t know if she would be upset or not. Telling her about his decision took a lot more courage than he had expected it to.
It was late at night and the soapland was closed for the evening. Kouyou and Chuuya were the only two people who actually lived in the building. There was a small third floor that doubled as an apartment, and that was where the two of them lived together.
Kouyou was in her room, most likely getting ready for bed, when Chuuya finally decided that he needed to tell her. He took a deep breath as he stood outside of her door, his hand curled into a fist, ready to knock, though he hesitated. It was several minutes before he finally forced himself to knock on the door, softly.
“Come in, darling,” came his mother’s voice from the other side.
Chuuya uncurled his fist and wrapped his fingers around the doorknob. He gave it a twist and pushed the door open. Kouyou was sitting at the foot of her bed. She smiled at Chuuya when she saw him.
“What do you need, my love?” she asked him.
Chuuya stood in the doorway, shuffling his feet and staying quiet for a moment before he finally said “There’s something that I want to talk to you about.”
Kouyou’s expression fell a little, concern covering her face, and she patted the spot next to her on the bed. “What is it, darling? Come sit down with me,” she urged.
Chuuya walked away from the door, letting it swing shut behind him. He walked to the bed and carefully sat down on it beside his mother. She wrapped her arm around his waist and pulled him closer to her.
“Is something wrong, love?” she asked.
Chuuya leaned his head on her shoulder. “I’ve just been thinking about something for a while, Mother. Ever since I started seeing Dazai outside of the soapland, I don’t really enjoy working in it anymore. I know we have a few regular customers who only come here for me, and I know I still owe you so much for taking me in and raising me, and giving me a place to work and live, but I think I want to move on. I think I want to do something else.”
Kouyou’s expression fell even further. “Oh, Chuuya, darling…” she murmured, turning so that she could face him and cupping his chin in her hand. “You don’t owe me anything. I took you in because I wanted a child. I kept you because I love you. You have nothing that you need to repay me for. If working as a courtesan isn’t what you want to do, then I will not be disappointed if you leave, do you understand?”
Chuuya’s eyes widened slightly in surprise. “You mean that…?” he asked her.
She let go of his chin and hugged him tightly. “Of course I mean that. I love you, Chuuya. I want you to be happy.”
Chuuya smiled faintly and hugged her back just as tightly. “I love you too, Mother. Thank you.”
Now that he wasn’t working as a courtesan, though, Chuuya needed to find someplace else to work. Kouyou wouldn’t kick him out because he wasn’t working; she would take care of him for as long as he needed her too, but he wanted to be able to support himself. Unfortunately, it was hard for someone who barely had a resume and whose only previous job was a masseuse at a soapland to find a good job, especially in this part of town.
He complained about his frustration to Dazai, one day when Dazai was visiting the apartment and they were sitting on the couch together, Dazai sitting sideways with his back against the arm of the chair and Chuuya lying in his lap.
“I’m gonna be stuck living off of my mother’s money for the rest of my life,” he grumbled as Dazai played with his hair.
“With an attitude like that you certainly are,” Dazai said. “But a pretty little thing like you shouldn't have any trouble getting a job if you work hard and think positive.”
Chuuya looked up at him and glared. “I don’t think you understand how getting a job works.”
“Well, what kind of job do you want?” Dazai asked.
“I don’t know, something where I can work with people, I guess. That’s the only thing I really know how to do,” Chuuya replied.
“What would you say your strengths and weaknesses are?” Dazai asked.
Chuuya narrowed his eyes. “What is this, a pseudo-job interview?”
“Just answer the question, Chuuya.”
Chuuya rolled his eyes. “My strengths are being charismatic and a kiss-ass while also knowing how to act like I’m above everyone else in such a subtle way that everyone feels inferior to me but they want to impress me and stay on my good side. My weaknesses are cute dogs and fancy hats.”
“Those are some pretty debilitating weaknesses,” Dazai said, humming in consideration. “No wonder no one’s hired you yet.”
“Oh, piss off,” Chuuya grumbled. “You’re the only person I know who has a problem with cute dogs and fancy hats.”
Dazai sighed softly and shook his head. “Snark aside, I might know a guy who can get you a job,” he said.
Chuuya shifted and turned his body so that his head could properly face Dazai. “Are you serious?” he asked.
“Yeah, I’m serious!” Dazai exclaimed. “Listen, I’ll call him later and set up a meeting. I’ll text you an address and a time. Just bring your resume. You’d be perfect for the job, I’m sure.”
Chuuya remained silent for a moment, slightly baffled. Then, he smiled, and wrapped his arms around Dazai’s neck to hug him. Dazai laughed and wrapped his arms around Chuuya’s waist, hugging him back.
“Thank you, Osamu,” Chuuya mumbled.
Dazai kissed his forehead. “No problem. Anything for you, Chuuya.”
That evening, as promised, Chuuya received a text message with a date, time, and address for a job interview. It was at the headquarters of the electronics company that Dazai worked for. He said that they were looking for openings in customer service and that his buddy was the head of the department. He claimed that Chuuya was a shoe-in for the job.
But when Chuuya arrived at the building on the specified date, dressed in a suit and tie with his hair tucked up under a matching hat, the receptionist led him to the office of the CEO instead of the head of the customer service department. And upon entering the office, Chuuya saw a familiar face sitting behind the desk. Dressed in his normal business attire, with a shit-eating grin on his face, was Dazai Osamu.
“What the fuck?” Chuuya asked, his mouth hanging open.
Dazai chuckled. “That’s not a very good way to start off an interview, Nakahara,” he scolded.
“Osamu, what-- You’re the fucking CEO!?”
“Did I never mention that to you before, Chuuya?”
“No!!”
Dazai shrugged, sitting back against his chair and folding his hands behind his head. “Well, I am. And we really could use another person down in customer service. There really isn’t a need for an interview; I know you have the skills for the job. The only question is whether you want it or not.”
Chuuya remained silent for a moment until he could overcome the shock of the revelation, then shook his head briefly. “Isn’t that, like, nepotism?”
Dazai shrugged. “The way I see it, as long as you’re a hard worker and you take your job seriously, there’s nothing wrong with it.” He sat up straight again and looked at Chuuya seriously. “That being said, if you think you’ll get special treatment around here just because I don’t have to pay you to have sex with me anymore, you’re sorely mistaken. I won’t hesitate to fire you if you start slacking off.”
Chuuya scoffed and folded his arms in front of his chest. “Like I would ever get lazy during a job.”
Dazai grinned broadly. “So you’ll take it?” he asked.
“Of course I’ll take it, dummy. I need this job! When can I start?”
“Then the job is yours! You can start tomorrow,” Dazai told him, then smirked lightly. “Guess I’ll be paying to see you for a while longer, after all.”