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(Age 16)
It was the first, and hopefully last, time Chuuya had to dress as a girl for a mission. Of course it was the stupid walking waste of bandages fault, as it always was.
The boss had needed them for an undercover mission, and typically those were solo missions for people such as Dazai or Kouyou, Chuuya was never well equipped for them. He was more for action rather than fake pleasantries.
But apparently they needed a bit of muscle for the mission in case it went sour. It was at a ballroom, of course, and Chuuya’s hopes and dreams of getting his hands on the expensive wine were promptly crushed when he was informed they would be going as teenagers. Spoiled rich kids, to be exact.
And when they got the mission details, that was when the problem arose.
“Hey, shitty Dazai.”
“Hmm?”
“It says here that this is a male female mission. Is it a typo?” He asked, shoving the file into the others face to catch his drifting attention.
Dazai didn’t even look up from his own file as he scribbled his signature at the bottom of it in annoyingly neat penmanship. “Nope, everything is as it should be.”
Chuuya slammed the papers down on the desk with more force than necessary. “Well how is that supposed to work? Last I checked we were both male.”
Dazai finally looked up from his paperwork, his eyes holding an unholy glint in them that Chuuya did not like one bit. “Well…”
The horrible realization dawned upon Chuuya before his partner could even finish the sentence. He knew where this was going and he wanted out. “Nope” he crossed his arms over his chest. “Not going to happen, I’m taking this folder and burning it.”
Chuuya hated that stupid smirk Dazai had on his face. He was tempted to punch it right off.
“It’s a bit too late for that, Chibi.”
Chuuya’s fingers twitched at the nickname, wanting to strangle something. Preferably his traitorous partner.
“I’ve already cleared it up with the boss. The real teens we’re impersonating are under our...care. We just have to stand in as them to collect information, and from there we can decide what to do about them and their illegal hobbies. No one knows what they look like, so this will be perfect~”
Chuuya scoffed, it would have been nice to know this information before he agreed to do anything, though it was most likely unavoidable. Dazai would get him to do the dirty work and embarrass himself no matter what.
Chuuya got the feeling that this mission was not as dangerous as it was made out to be.
“Just get one of Ane-sans girls to accompany you. I refuse to dress as a girl just for this.”
Dazai’s lips twitched upwards “Oh? So you'll dress like a female in a situation other than this?”
Chuuya flushed an angry red color, and not even throwing the papers into the nearby fireplace could soothe his simmering anger. “Shut the fuck u-”
“Ah, ah, ah, shhh.” Dazai taunted, placing a finger to his lips. “This is a library, you don’t want to bother anyone.”
Chuuya frankly, did not give a single fuck, but backed off anyways, heaving a sigh in defeat. “I hope you burn.”
Dazai’s chocolate eyes only shone with amusement instead of the usual blankness. “You better polish your little rich girl impression.”
Chuuya had half the mind to not unleash Arahabaki’s powers and destroy the whole block that day.
Ane-san, of course, was ecstatic to learn of Chuuya’s first undercover mission. Chuuya was always left to wonder why she was his executive. Not that he was complaining, she was a sister to him, but when he asked her he was more than underwhelmed with the answer.
“I always receive the ones with the most potential. The ones with sharp beauty and small bodies, yet they can catch the enemy off guard with a powerful fist.”
Chuuya had never felt so offended in his life.
And now here he was, grunting every time she tugged his hair a little too hard and complaining as obnoxiously as possible when she tried to do his makeup. He could do his own eyeliner, dammit.
“This is all that shitty Dazai’s fault” he mumbled, proceeding to slip into the ridiculous gown.
“Wow, you look beautiful” one of the helper girls complemented, eyes sparkling in admiration.
“Yes,” Ane-san, the traitor, agreed. “The makeup and dress really complement your hair and eyes.”
“I don’t care. Let’s just go and get this over with.” Chuuya turned to stomp out of the stuffy room, his heels clacking against the tile floor. At least he was a few inches taller, though the only reason was because the girl he was impersonating was supposedly taller than him. It shouldn’t matter though, since no one would recognize them anyways.
When Chuuya exited the elevator on the parking garage floor, a car was waiting for him. He hesitantly took the door handle, yanking it open before he could regret his decision and crawling in. It took a second for him to move his stupid dress out of the way so he could close the door, and when he finally got situated, he looked up to an appropriately dressed Dazai.
He had one eyebrow quirked up, eyes dancing with amusement. Chuuya gritted his teeth, “Not. A. Word.”
Dazai simply shrugged, turning to face the tinted window while hiding his smile with a bandaged fist. “I was only going to say that you play the role of a dainty rich girl well. I can hardly tell the difference.”
Chuuya fumed, not meeting the others eyes for the rest of the drive there. How fucking dare he.
The venue was fancy, making Chuuya’s mood lift just a little. He had a knack for fancy things, strange considering he was on the run with the sheep for a good portion of his life. When they stepped out, Dazai offered his arm.
Fucking impolite faker.
Chuuya took it.
Their driver Hirotsu nodded before driving away to be on standby in the rare occasion if something were to happen.
Dazai and Chuuya navigated through the ballroom with only a little complication (Chuuya occasionally tripping over his heels.)
It didn’t take long for a couple to approach them, their smiles as fake as their greeting. “You two must be the wonder couple. Congratulations on the upcoming marriage”
What. The. fuck.
It took all of Chuuya’s willpower not to send Dazai a questioning glance. He simply nodded along instead.
The woman turned to Chuuya, eyeing him up and down, scrutinizing him. Chuuya made a point not to avoid her eyes, looking at her dead on. She lingered on his gloved hand “Say, where are your promise rings?”
“Ah,” Dazai smiled politely, it was a scary sight to witness. “We prefer not to be bound by objects, we know where our loyalties lie, we have no need for a reminder.” The lie rolled off his tongue so seamlessly that Chuuya almost believed it himself.
As an emphasis, Dazai wrapped a hand around Chuuya’s side, pulling him closer. Chuuya shot him a withering look.
The woman batted her long eyelashes before her and her husband bowed, continuing on their merry way.
“Well” Chuuya hissed from between his teeth “It looks like we’re engaged.”
Dazai hummed “It appears so. C’mon, let's go get some snacks.”
“Sure, whatever.”
For once Chuuya didn’t protest as they popped the samples into their mouths instead of working. They were simply blending in, obviously a mission requirement.
“Y’know Chibi, all of them are staring.”
“Hah?” Chuuya was caught by surprise at the other's silent note, swallowing down the food before he choked on it.
“They’re looking at you” Dazai repeated, holding no particular tone in his voice. Is it maybe because you are a defenseless pretty girl?” he mused.
Chuuya was ten seconds away from smashing his plate directly in his ‘fiancé’s’ face. When Chuuya studied the room, he noticed that the mackerel was right. As his eyes swept across the crowd, many heads swiveled around, pretending that they were not looking.
Chuuya frowned, turning back to his food, shoving it into his mouth. “Maybe it’s cuz’ I’m a redhead, there’s not many of those in Yokohama.”
“Or maybe it’s because you eat like the dog you are. That's not very ladylike of you my dear Chuuya. You look like a convincing lady, but your etiquette could use some work.”
That's it. Chuuya has had enough of the shitty mackerels taunting. He would throttle him here and now. The metal fork in his hand bent under the pressure of his grip. “What is this misogyny? Is it because I’m a woman? Is that why?”
The look of surprise on the others face was well worth the stupid ass girl accent Chuuya had to put up. As a last jab he twisted his lips into a winning smirk “I seriously expected better from you. Babe.”
Not leaving any room for a reply, Chuuya twisted around to storm to where he knew the restroom area was. They were thankfully empty so that no one would experience Chuuya’s angry noises as he clenched the edge of the sink, trying to drown out his anger. Yes, most of the time Dazai’s teasing didn’t get to him, but sometimes he was just absolutely insufferable.
As he looked in the mirror he noted that his face had finally returned to it’s normal shade rather than the flushed red color it was.
He also noted the looming figure behind him, ducking just in time as a fist enclosed where his head once was.
Chuuya maneuvered from his crouched position, swinging a leg out to sweep the man's legs from under him, sending him crashing to the floor. Chuuya used his gravity to hold the man down as he stood back up, brushing his clothes out.
“Who in the hell are you?”
The man’s face contorted with many emotions before resting on smugness “So it really isn’t you. You aren’t even a woman.”
Well, his cover had been blown. Chuuya allowed himself to slouch back against the sink, kicking his pointed heel into the man's neck. “Isn’t it improper for you to be in the Women's restroom?”
The man sneered “I could say the same for you.”
Chuuya dug his heel in more, causing him to choke. ”Who are you and what do you want?”
The man opened his mouth, but weather it was to answer him or curse him out would be lost to Chuuya as they were interrupted by the restroom doors. Chuuya was fully prepared to act like the victim, but it seems that he didn’t need to.
Dazai entered the room in a brisk pace, not seeming to surprised at the sight of Chuuya pinning a man down. “We need to leave.” There was a hidden urgency to his tone, and if it was directed to anyone but Chuuya, then they wouldn’t have noticed the edge to his voice.
Chuuya stepped to the side “What? Why?”
“I just discovered some… troublesome information.” Dazai was careful in the placing of his words as he approached Chuuya, ready to grab his wrist.
Chuuya evaded his grip, “Tell me what it is!”
Dazai was about to (Hopefully) answer his question, but a low chuckle emitted from the man on the floor, a prisoner to gravity. Both of their heads turned to him, suspicion in their narrowed eyes.
“The hell are you laughing at?” Chuuya growled, rolling his fist in preparation to deliver a right hook. Dazai grabbed the side of his dress, careful not to make any skin to skin contact.
“I knew you were too relaxed for the situation, considering you knew what was going to happen to you.”
“What?”
The man turned to Dazai, who looked at him through narrowed eyes. “You know, don’t you. Ya figured it out perhaps when all of the men approached you?”
Dazai’s lips drew into a thin line “Yes,” then he turned to Chuuya “Let’s go.”
Chuuya didn’t have the fight in him to argue with Dazai about being left in the dark, following him out of the restroom. The crowd had doubled in size. Dazai stopped him. “I planted a bomb.”
“You what-”
“Yes, and we need to hurry, we have a minute.”
“What the fuck Dazai” was all that escaped Chuuya’s mouth as he was practically hauled onto the dance floor.
Dazai pulled Chuuya close, leaning to whisper into his ear. “Shush, let's dance across and then make a run for it.”
Well, it didn’t look like he had a fucking choice now.
Thank god for the dance lessons Ane-san made him go through.
Though it would have been convenient if she also taught him how to run in heels. He ended up having to lean against shitty Dazai to bend down and break the heels off, then lift the dress up as they ran as fast as their feet could take them.
Sprinting through the crowd of people with classical music playing in the background really set a weird mood, especially when the bomb finally detonated. They had just passed by the double doors when the shock wave sent them flying.
Chuuya managed to deflect the debris from hitting them while he cushioned their falls. Once his ears stopped ringing, he pulled himself up to his hands and knees, coughing violently. He hated explosion aftermaths, it always felt as if his brain had turned to mush.
Then there was a hand on his back, helping him up. An oddly nice move coming from Dazai. They silently loaded into the getaway car, Hirotsu no doubt having just as many questions as Chuuya did.
He took a shaky breath before turning to Dazai “What in the hell was that all about?”
“Is the Chibi mad?”
“Livid.”
Dazai clasped his hands in front of his face, a sign of trying to conceal emotions. Mori did the same exact thing. “Our cover wasn’t blown, but we couldn’t have stayed there any longer unless something bad were to happen to you.”
Chuuya furrowed his eyebrows, kicking off his shoes. “What exactly?”
“The two were in fact engaged, but not in a healthy way at all.” His eyes shifted over the streets to meet Chuuya’s own. “The woman was forced into it. In fact, she was bought by the man to be a part of his harem.”
Chuuya swallowed thickly. This was a lot of new information coming to light. “That bastard.”
Dazai nodded in agreement “And what's worse, that ‘gala’ was only a coverup for a human trafficking auction that would be held later into the night. The man was going to give his ‘fiancé’ away basically for free to the audience to do as they pleased. Apparently it would boost his name and help him become more popular.”
Chuuya felt sick. This was far more than he thought he would be walking into. Did Mori know and send them out anyways? It sounded like something he would do.
Chuuya put a hand up to his mouth, the possibilities that could have happened running through his head. Of course he would have destroyed the whole place, but the pure fact of who they were unknowingly impersonating…
Dazai put his hand on his shoulder, rubbing circles into his collar bone. The second time the shitty mackerel had been remotely ‘nice’ today, it was off putting.
“How did you find this out?”
Dazai’s eyes flashed dangerously, and Chuuya regretted asking the question. He probably didn’t want to know.
“It was a group of men, they came asking where you were. When I asked why, they revealed the plans like a bunch of loose lipped toddlers.”
Not that it mattered, they were all dead now.
Two weeks later, the man had escaped from the port mafias chamber, leaving the woman behind. The search team never found him, Chuuya found himself boiling with rage when the news spread to him.
To wrap up a shitty case with a decent ending, Dazai ended up doing the mission report for once in his life. To make it better, Chuuya removed the godawful dress from his body and replaced it with his normal coat. It was freezing in that attire, he wouldn’t miss it.
But as he gazed down at the gown, holding the fabric between his fingers, he had a sudden idea. He wasn’t going to use it ever again in his life and…
Well, he ended up leaving it at Ane-san’s assistants door. The one who looked absolutely dazzled when she saw the dress. The next time that shitty Dazai said he only cared about himself, he would bring up his kind act.
(Even if he really didn’t give a shit about the dress.)
(Age 22)
It wasn’t until six years later when ex mafia executive, Dazai Osamu, met a man named Riku. He never dug a last name out of him, but it wasn’t like he needed his first name. He knew damn well what was to happen to him anyways.
Dazai was past his mafia days, those times of slaughtering people, of looking for the meaning of staying alive. He had recovered from that toxic mindset, yet, seeing this man confidently sat up on the barstool with an alcohol induced flush on his face, it made Dazai’s insides twist with disgust.
Riku was the same man he always had been, except for now he was just plumper, more well off. He probably bought a lot of meals using the dirty money he un-rightfully earned selling humans.
As far as Dazai knew, he had blown up the auction along with all of its participants, but over the six years this man has been free, he most likely rebirthed a new one.
What were the chances that he ran into the very same man in his regular bar?
Dazai wouldn’t kill him, no, but a plan was already formulated in his mind. One that would be far more satisfying than simply shooting him.
Dazai slid into the seat next to him, not missing the way Riku’s beady eyes watched as the bartender set down drinks, not even attempting to hide his greedy gaze. What a pig. Dazai sipped from his new drink, unimpressed as the man looked in his direction, startling slightly.
“Do I know you boy?” The man asked, leaning in closely. His breath reeked of alcohol.
“No,” Dazai stated simply.
“Hmm” he leaned back “ya here for the show?” he suggestively arched an eyebrow towards the bartender again.
“I’m here to drink.”
“Eh, I suppose that’s what a bar is for.”
The man continued to talk, his voice slurred and mouth full of vile words. He was a talkative drunk, good, this would be easier than expected.
Dazai slipped into conversation with him, nodding along on his crazy rant. He had learned far too much about him. More than necessary. But now he knew where his personal bar was along with the rest of his illegal hideouts.
Dazai left the bar victorious, leaving the bartender a generous tip. Tip, meaning that he pickpocketed the man and left a good amount of his wallet for her to have.
He pulled out his phone, dialing a number while watching his breath crystalize in front of him. It was far too cold to be wandering the streets.
Kunikida answered on the fourth ring, voice groggy as he complained. “Dazai this better be good it is currently 4AM-”
“Yeah yeah, I promise it is.”
“...Do you need to be picked up at the bar again? Seriously?” There was shuffling on the other end.
“No, I have coordinates.” Dazai switched up his playful tone to a rare serious one. Kunikida stopped whatever he was doing, no doubt floored.
“What coordinates? What for?”
“A human trafficking ring. You can deal with them later today, of course.”
“Me? I refuse to do all of the work by myself-”
“Not by yourself. Get the others to help, there are multiple locations.” Dazai carefully stepped past an unconscious guy on the sidewalk, probably blackout drunk. It wasn’t a rare sight in this district.
“And what will you be doing?” Kunikida asked, voice pensive.
“Going after the head.”
Chuuya ignored the phone call at first, as soon as he looked down to see the contact that hadn’t called him unless it was for personal gain, he hit decline.
And then he called again.
And again.
Finally Chuuya had enough with his bullshit, hitting the answer button with enough force to crack his screen as he pulled it to his ear and proceeded to yell at him.
“What the fuck do you want Mackerel-”
“I found him.”
Chuuya scoffed, ignoring the looks that his coworkers sent him as he strode across the room to the privacy of his own office. “You gotta be more specific than that.”
“The man from six years ago. On the mission where you dressed as a spoiled rich girl-”
“Yeah” Chuuya interjected “I got it.” He would rather not remember that particular day. And then his words sunk in. “Wait, you found him?”
“Yep! I’m meeting him in an hour- well, fifty nine minutes now- so don’t be late!”
Chuuya wanted to punch a wall. “Wha- I have a job you idiot! I can’t just leave in the middle of the afternoon-”
Dazai had already hung up on him, a text notification showing details of where to meet. It was an hour away. Chuuya groaned as he snatched his coat and stormed off, announcing that he would be taking the rest of the day off.
Stupid shitty waste of bandages.
The coordinates were in a sketchier side of Yokohama. Chuuya wasn’t sure what he was expecting, but it certainty wasn’t a club, It’s lights cut into the sunset, ruining the otherwise peaceful atmosphere and only adding fuel to the inferno of a party scene.
An arm slung around his shoulder and Chuuya was about to punch whoever it was until he realized that it was Dazai. He settled for a sharp jab between the ribs.
“Ouch, this is what I get for being a good ex-partner?” Dazai whined
“That's what you get for leaving me on that field. You could have at least dragged me to safety, it started raining after that.” Chuuya snarled, referring to the stupidly powerful ability user they fought not too long ago.
“My bad~” Dazai said, not sounding apologetic in the slightest.
“Whatever, let’s just get this over with. He in there?” Chuuya asked, jabbing a finger to the club even though they were already headed towards the building.
Dazai nodded in affirmation as they weaved through the line, making their way to the front where the bouncer should be. “Hey” Dazai greeted, catching the mountain of a mans attention.
The man didn’t acknowledge them, but he certaintly did when Dazai leaned in to whisper something into his ear.
He visibly shivered before stepping aside and letting the two of them pass.
“What was that about?”
“Oh, nothing.”
Chuuya didn’t push the subject further as they continued.
The building practically shook with the bass, the music deafening. Chuuya was never one to step foot into these kinds of places, much preferring the silent bars with their rich wine collections.
Chuuya had no idea where they were going, but Dazai did as he expertly avoided the warm bodies and multiple puddles of vomit.
Chuuya cringed, Disgusting.
He felt out of place here in his normal clothes and coat that hopefully wouldn’t get ruined. Dazai didn’t seem all that bothered.
They arrived to the back of the building where the rowdiness calmed down, replaced by a more laid back atmosphere. Back here there were curtains drawn around couches, private rooms. The one that caught his eye was the one with opened curtains.
Chuuya’s blood boiled at the sight of the man, sitting as if he had done no wrong, his perverted eyes lingering over the scantily clad bodies of the women who sat around him, all whispering sweet nothings into his red ears.
“There he is” Dazai grumbled, not sounding to fond at all.
“Alright, lets go.” Chuuya clenched his fist, prepared to stomp in and deck the motherfucker right in that ruddy face of his. Dazai stopped him by securing a hand over his wrist.
“Not so fast slug. Look” he nodded his head towards the guards standing on alert on either side of the man. Chuuya mentally cursed himself. “All brawns and no brains in that tiny body of yours.”
Scratch that, Chuuya would punch Dazai, then the creepy creeper.
“So what do you want me to do then?” Chuuya asked. They must look weird standing there just watching, so Chuuya made a point to drag the two of them to the side.
Dazai only stared down at him with that weird look in his eyes. That same look when…
No.
Hell no.
As if sensing his thoughts, Dazai held up a bag that he pulled out of seemingly no where. “For old times sake?”
“Absolutely not.”
“Oh c’mon, it’s the only way.”
And if Dazai was saying that, then it was the truth. Probably. Chuuya didn’t see any other option, but decided to put up an argument anyways because, fuck this.
“Why can’t you do it.”
Dazai snorted “Have you seen me?”
And yeah, good point.
Chuuya was the best candidate for this particular job. He had done it many times over the past years. Ane-san always sent him out on them because apparently he was ‘skillfully good’ at them.
Chuuya knew that she just liked dressing him up for no reason.
“Fine. Fine. But only because I hate this fucking pig and want him to get a life sentence.” Chuuya snatched the bag, moving to a nearby dressing room.
“I’ll be watching from a safe distance~”
Chuuya flipped Dazai off.
No one payed Chuuya any mind. As long as he walked like he owned these dressing rooms, then they wouldn’t question him.
And once he was done changing he was left to wonder how and where in the hell Dazai acquired this… outfit.
If it was even considered an outfit.
Its cloth was gold and covered what needed to be covered. But what in the fuck. How far had that walking waste of bandaged planned into this? There was even makeup in the bag, the same brand he always used for undercover missions.
Was shitty Dazai stalking him?
Chuuya kept his choker on, as always, and sheathed his knife in the strap around his thigh. As he approached the man and his harem, he shot a scalding look in Dazai’s direction where he was watching Chuuya over the rim of his glass.
‘You owe me for this bastard’
Dazai his a smirk ‘I’ll buy you some wine.’
At least that’s what he hoped he thought.
Chuuya stopped in front of the group for a second, letting them notice him. The girls looked at him with a mix of confusion and hope in their eyes. And the man, the man’s eyes roamed over him with an interested gaze.
Then the man held an arm out, inviting Chuuya to come closer.
He held himself high as he strutted over. He had gotten much better at walking in heels over time. These ones he had borrowed from some worker he spilled out a sob story to. It was easy making her believe that he left the non existent shoes at his ex's house. He would give them back, of course.
The man snaked a hand around his waist as Chuuya siddled in next to him. If Chuuya from six years ago saw this, he would be going absolutely insane. But he had grown, as did his skills. He was still the same angry person, particularly towards a certain mackerel, he could just mask it better now.
Chuuya let the man talk about his life to him, nodding occasionally to agree. He was obviously shit faced drunk, which made it all the easier to get the job done.
Chuuya lifted a leg, gold fabric shimmering under the clubs dim light as he flashed a strip of his thigh. The man was entranced as he went to caress the skin. Chuuya reached to pluck the meaty hand from his leg, leaning uncomfortably close to his face to whisper.
“Not in here” he made a show of looking around before returning his eyes to the mans hungry ones. “Let’s take this elsewhere?”
He knew he had this man hooked when he nodded. Chuuya tossed a look to Dazai to give him a signal, only to see that Dazai’s eyes were darkened with something that Chuuya had never seen in them before.
Whatever.
The man didn’t argue against him as they rose from the cushioned seats, guiding him to a back door with a firm grasp on his waist. And as soon as the door was opened, the cold air stinging Chuuya’s exposed skin, he swiftly twisted away as if in a dance.
“What the fu-”
Before anything else could escape his mouth, Chuuya had a knife placed firmly against his throat, backing him into a wall.
“What’re ya doi-”
Chuuya pressed harder, shivering slightly. It was cold. “Shut the hell up, right now.”
His voice had gone down an octave, the whole situation catching the man off guard. He attempted to knee Chuuya, but he quickly evaded the attack with his own leg, leaving them at a stand still.
Unfortunately, Chuuya was getting sick and tired of being near the man, so he stepped away, leaving him pinned to the wall using his gravity. He had already blown his cover so there was no use in hiding his ability.
The man gaped like a fish out of water, and Chuuya allowed for a satisfied smirk to play on his lips.
The back door then opened, Dazai exiting as if nothing had happened. “Oh, Chuuya! I didn’t expect to see you here!”
“...Yeah, fuck you.”
Dazai switched back to serious mode “The club has been cleared out, those young ladies are safe and will not be returning to him.”
Chuuya nodded, satisfied. Then another cold gust of air hit them, and Chuuya braced against it, wrapping his arms around himself. “Oi, Dazai.”
“Hmm?”
“Give me your coat, it’s cold as shit out here.”
Dazai only sighed exasperated as he shrugged off his coat to hand it off to the shorter man, who took it without a thanks.
“You better not have trashed my clothes.” Chuuya grumbled
Dazai didn’t answer.
It didn’t take long for the police force to arrive, guns aimed at the man as a familiar woman roughly swung him over and put him in handcuffs, no gentleness in her movements. “You are the worst scum there ever is, and i finally caught you.” She declared, shoving him into the cop car.
Chuuya looked to Dazai, who smirked evilly.
“...Who was that?”
“Oh her? She was the woman who he was planning on selling six years ago, the one you stood in for. She used her time to become apart of the police force.”
Chuuya whistled lowly “Badass.”
Dazai nodded in agreement “Badass indeed. Anyways, let's get out of here, you’re getting weird stares.”
When Chuuya looked around, he noticed the crowd of people who would slow to get a look at them.
“And whos fault is that?”
“...Yours?”
Chuuya gripped the back of Dazai’s collar, shaking him roughly as they escaped the freezing wind. “No, yours jackass! Where did you get these clothes anyways? Did you steal them from a strip club?”
“A good man never shares his secrets.”
“You’re a jerk, don’t ever call me again.”
Unfortunately Dazai did end up calling him again. And then again after that.
Seriously? All he had to do was attend a stupid undercover mission to get the bandaged freak to rekindle their partnership?
He would have done it a lot sooner if he had known that.