Chapter Text
In hindsight, Chuuya should’ve known something was wrong when he woke up that morning to find Dazai already up and dressed, sat on the edge of an unmade twin bed and reading that same ratty old paperback in the low light of their Paris hotel room. Dazai never woke up on time during away missions if he could help it. And even when he did finally dain to open his eyes, he would usually just fester under the covers like an open wound until Chuuya physically dragged him out of bed.
He definitely should’ve realised something was up when Dazai suggested that he go to the meeting with the Paris Special Abilities Bureau alone, knowing full well the brunette could count the number of French words he knew on one hand (and really his accent was so abysmal that even they were scarcely intelligible).
But Chuuya was tired, and it was stupidly early in the morning, and it wasn’t exactly like he wanted to sit in a room and smile diplomatic with the same group of assholes that Pan had been working for. So instead he just nodded along absently to whatever bullshit reasoning Dazai had spewed before yanking his sleep mask back over his eyes and letting darkness reclaim them.
He woke up a few hours later to the gentle mid-morning sun peeking through the gap in the hotel blinds. Dazai wasn’t back yet, but that was hardly surprising; government meetings like that usually dragged on for hours, if not the better part of a day.
Well, if Chuuya was going to have the day to himself in Paris, he sure as hell wasn’t spending it alone in a 300 square foot room – no, he was going shopping.
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People liked to claim there was no best time to buy wine in France, but Chuuya disagreed. In August, the fruits were riper and the soil richer, and a glass of red just hit different with a little summer sun to accompany it.
Not that there was much of that now, the redhead thought to himself ruefully as he strolled down the city’s cobbled streets, shopping bags in hand.
The sun that had made itself so apparent that morning was now in hiding, as rainclouds inched across the blue-grey sky like insects, slow moving and stupid in the absence of a summer breeze. Rain wouldn’t be far off, and Chuuya cursed himself for not having the foresight to bring an umbrella with him. Instead, he picked up the pace a little, opting to cut his shopping trip slightly short over taking an impromptu outdoor shower.
He reached the hotel building a few minutes later, just as the first of the raindrops started spiralling towards the damp ground. Dazai still wasn’t back yet, and Chuuya briefly wondered whether the whole meeting thing had been a ploy and the brunette had actually been rearrested and taken back to Meursault.
He smiled softly to himself as he set the shopping bags carefully on top of the dresser. No, he wasn’t that lucky.
Some self-care, an actual shower, and a mildly obscene amount of time scrolling on social media later, and the day had faded well into the late afternoon, storm clouds still swirling around the skyline outside.
A sudden series of footsteps echoing down the corridor had Chuuya’s head snapping towards the door just before it swung open to reveal the walking roll of bandages, Dazai Osamu himself. His hair was slightly damp from the summer rain, his shirt clinging wetly to the broad expanse of his shoulders, but clutched to his chest, almost miraculously dry in the face of it all, was a small bundle of pink blankets.
Pink blankets that, on closer inspection, seemed to be grabbing right back onto the brunette, a handful of his damp dress shirt fabric clenched in an equally pink little fist.
“Hi, honey, I’m home!” The taller man chirped happily, apparently completely oblivious to both the little alien succubus that had somehow adhered itself to his body and the way Chuuya was currently staring at the scene in front of him like Dazai had just sprouted seven heads and turned violet.
“What the hell,” The redhead said when he finally regained the ability to speak, his words thick and slow like syrup. “is that?”
Dazai just grinned.
“Why, it’s a teeny tiny elephant. Can’t you see from down there?”
The mass in his arms started to wriggle, causing one of the blankets to slip and reveal a flash of rosy skin and a series of thin brown curls.
Chuuya jolted upright, blinking his eyes slowly like if he shuttered them enough times the scene in front of him might just reset.
“That’s a baby.” He said dumbly.
“Nope. I just told you. It’s a miniature elephant. Just look at her little trunk.” He tapped the infant’s nose for good measure, and given the fact she didn’t spontaneously disappear, there went any and all of Chuuya’s hope that this was just some Ability created illusion.
“But what are you doing with a baby?” The redhead sputtered. “What happened to the meeting you were supposed to go to? What about our mission?”
“Ohh, right. I almost forgot.” Dazai’s grin could’ve rivalled the Cheshire cat’s as he carefully rolled the baby in his arms so that it was facing Chuuya. She had big, doll-like brown eyes that were so dark they were almost black, and round cherub cheeks that dimpled as she showcased her own gummy smile. “Chibi, meet the mission.”