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Chuuya pulled out his phone. He regretted this idea the moment he thought of it - but if he was going to die here, and it looked more like that by the minute - then he would do it with no regrets.
It had been a normal assignment - get in, get out, get home. The easiest ones. It all went wrong when Chuuya saw the child as he was dodging into the alleyway from the enemy - bags under her eyes, hair matted into a rat's nest of epic proportions, feet dirty and bare in the darkness, clutching a ratted bear to her chest.
The bear only had one button eye. He never had a bear. Such a weird thing to think in a hail of bullets, but Chuuya was so used to being shot at that it barely phased him.
He covered the child, his body glowing crimson. "Hey," he whispered, trying to smile at the girl. Her eyes welled with tears as she clutched that bear tighter, her body spasming with every ricochet - the noise clearly distressing her. "No, no, don't worry about that." Chuuya made sure to keep his tone light and friendly. It wasn't the first time he had found a child in the middle of where they weren't supposed to be.
Probably wouldn't be the last either.
She was curled up, trying to stifle her sobs. Chuuya leaned over her, bracing his hands on the wall behind her head. "Don't do that," he said as though they were in a park and not a gunfight. "What's your name?"
She worried her lip. "I-" her voice caught in her throat and she shook her head, burying her face in her bear.
"Don't worry about that," Chuuya told her, in what he hoped was a soothing voice. "I promise I'll get you out of this."
Her gaze flicked behind him, to the gunmen in the opening of the alleyway. "Hey, no no," Chuuya kept talking, only half aware of what he was saying. "Don't look at them. Look at me."
The girl's eyes snapped back to his.
Chuuya smiled at her. "That's good, that'll do," he consoled. He kept up the platitudes, even adding in a few funny voices and expressions until the girl was calm.
"Okay, you good with me, yeah?" Chuuya asked, glancing back. He had to keep an eye on the bullets. His Ability wasn't Rashoman, he had to determine the trajectory and stop it.
The girl nodded.
"So when I tell you to run, you'll do it, right?"
She nodded again.
Chuuya waited for a pause in the bullets. "Go, now," he ordered, in as calm a voice as he could use. "Run."
She scampered off, and in a moment of distraction - rookie mistake, really - Chuuya felt two of the bullets pierce him. His focus had been on her, not on them, and that cost him everything.
He turned back to the enemy, glowing red, intent on destruction.
"Hey," Chuuya breathed into the phone. His hand was fastened to his side, trying to hold in the blood that threatened to spill out. The enemy was dead, and Chuuya remained. Like always, but maybe… this would be the last time.
"Ah, chibi?" the confused voice came from the other end of the line.
Chuuya couldn't blame him. Looking at it objectively, he thinks this is the first time that he's called Dazai in nine months. He knows its not the first time he's wanted to.
And Dazai had answered.
"Yeah," Chuuya replied, and he wasn't sure if the warmth in his chest was happiness or blood splatter. "It's me."
"Hmm…" Dazai was suspicious. It was easy to hear in his voice, sleepy as it was. "What is so dire that it has Chuuya calling me at two am?"
Chuuya chuckled, trying to quash the sharp inhale as the laughter reverberated through his wound. "Nothing so sinister, shitty mackerel," he said lightly, wincing as his did so, smothering the groan that threatened to burst past his lips. "Just… wanted to talk to you."
Chuuya could almost see Dazai wrinkling his nose, amber eyes narrowed in a Are you shitting me look. "Wanted to talk to me?" Dazai repeated, his voice clearly disbelieving. "Is Chuuya drunk?"
Chuuya barked out a laugh, and immediately regretted it. He hissed, unable to stop the movement jerking at his wounds.
"Chuuya, what was that?" Dazai's voice was on alert now, the sleepiness gone entirely.
"What was what?" Sometimes it was easier to play dumb than to lean into Dazai's observations.
"That sound." Dazai gave him a perfect impression of it. Damn him.
"A sewer grate, I dunno," Chuuya explained, his mind slipping to the first thing he could think of. "Are you getting deaf in your young age?"
Dazai scoffed. He hadn't hung up yet, and Chuuya counted that as a win. He didn't want Dazai to hang up. He knew this would probably be it for him - he was too far away from any help. And he knew it, had known it the moment he accepted this mission.
But that didn't mean he had to go out alone.
Just meant that he had to convince Dazai that everything was all right. He could do that. There was no one else on this planet that knew Dazai Osamu like Chuuya did. He begrudgingly admitted that there was no one else who knew Chuuya quite like Dazai did.
It wasn't as easy as he thought it would be - this was Dazai after all.
"You… ever wonder if there was another path for us?" Chuuya asked. He was staring at the stars he could barely see through the pollution of Yokohama.
"How many drinks have you had?" There was a clattering over the phone, but Chuuya couldn't even begin to imagine what it could be.
"Hmmm… Something like that." Was that the correct way to answer? He was getting a little light-headed.
"What are you - Why are you calling me?"
He winced as he readjusted himself against the wall. He was loosing blood at an alarming rate. "Because… I dunno, why wouldn't I call you?"
"You telling me you called me because what, you're bored?"
"If I said yes, would you believe me?"
"No."
"Then that's not what I'm asking of ya then, is it?"
"What the fuck are you asking me, Chuuya?" and wasn't it strange for Dazai to say his name? Chuuya could probably count on one hand the times that Dazai had deigned to address him by his name and not some weird nickname or insult.
Maybe he had noticed that Chuuya wasn't at his best. Chuuya had tried to hide it - thinking it easier to do over the phone, but some things couldn't be faked.
Chuuya coughed. He could taste copper on his tongue. Fuck. He was nearing the end, wasn't he? "I'm just asking you…" Chuuya whispered, closing his eyes, "To stay on the line with me." His body spasmed, and he wondered how long he could hold out. "Can you… can you do that for me?"
"Chuuya is asking me to…" Dazai's voice was so incredulous that Chuuya could have laughed if he had the energy for it.
"Don't think too much into this… mackerel," Chuuya hissed. Was the world getting hazy, was the end getting closer? Fuck. He didn't want this to end. They were finally having a normal conversation.
"You could have called anyone else," Dazai's voice was soft in his ear. Chuuya wondered how much longer he would have the strength to hold up his phone. His limbs were so heavy, his body so numb.
"When will you realize…" Chuuya's voice was barely a whisper. His eyes felt heavy.
"Chuuya? Chuuya!" Dazai's shouts rang in his head.
Oh, he must have dozed off for a second. He groaned and spit out blood. "When will you realize," he tried again. He had to get this part out. It was the reason why Dazai was the person he called - it was the entire reason he was doing what he did. "You're the only one I want to call?"
There was silence on the other line. Chuuya felt his heart sink into his stomach.
Well, at least he said what had to be said.
He could die at peace now.
He hoped the child was okay, and the bear hadn't been splattered with blood. He hadn't been expecting to take two to the chest after all. He should probably find someone to find her, look after her. The thought materialized and dissipated quickly. Who did he have time to tell? He wished that child the best, then. Maybe she would be luckier than he was.
He hoped Akutagawa would be able to grow - Gin and Hirotsu would help with this. The could be counted on to look after the young hothead. That weretiger too, as much as Chuuya was loathe to admit. Those two could take the mantle that he and Dazai had abandoned and make something of it. Make it greater than it ever could be. Chuuya would only regret not being there to see it come to pass.
He hoped Kouyou wouldn't miss their afternoon teas every Thursday too much. Ever since he had joined the mafia, Kouyou had been a steady and guiding hand, making sure he was able to survive every situation. Except this one.
"Chuuya," Dazai's voice cut into his musings.
Chuuya couldn't help snorting - the movement shook his chest in an uncomfortable way, but it wasn't painful, and wasn't that worrying? - he didn't want to die in peace, thinking of those in the past, or those that would live after him.
Chuuya wanted to live.
Too bad circumstances were as they were.
"Chuuya, what did you call me for?" Dazai's voice was clipped. To anyone else, it would have been unemotional, but Chuuya had been through so much with the brunette that he knew that this was Dazai trying to control his emotions. This was the voice that only happened when Dazai had no other armor to rely upon.
And Chuuya couldn't help the feeling that bloomed in his chest - here was Dazai nearly stripped away, and for him.
For so long, Chuuya had battled against everyone else in Dazai's life, knowing that while Dazai was the most important person to Chuuya, he was not the most important to Dazai.
There had been Oda.
There had been Kunikida.
There had been the whole damn detective agency.
But here he was, bleeding out on the sidewalk, and Dazai was breaking his armor for him.
Perhaps Chuuya meant something after all. Maybe that would be the light he was looking for at the end of the tunnel.
"Chuuya. Answer me." The mask was crumbling. Chuuya could have laughed if he had the energy.
He didn't. But he could have and that was the important part.
"Hey Dazai," he whispered, voice thick with pain and the encroaching darkness. "Could you do me one last favor?"
"One last favor?" There was hitch in Dazai's voice. "Chuuya, what are you asking me to do?" Emotions swirled through these words, no longer was Dazai holding back a floor, Chuuya had seen past the dam.
Chuuya laughed wetly, the copper on his tongue was overpowering. "Just asking you one thing."
"Anything," and there was that tightness to Dazai's voice, a demonic promise that only the two of them could make. .
Chuuya wondered if the other had begun tracking this phone call yet. It didn't matter - he was too far away.
His voice was small, and soft, barely a breath when he pleaded, "Stay? With me?"
He knew he was too far away to be saved, and wasn't that just the definition of their relationship. Fuck, he wished Dazai was here. He wasn't sure if he wanted to hug him, or punch him, but it would be a lot less scary dying with someone else here.
Fuck, he was going to die alone.
He would laugh if he had the energy.
"Chuuya, I swear to fucking God," Dazai was screeching into the phone, and Chuuya could have laughed.
"I… did you ever know how much I love you?" Chuuya whispered as the darkness crept through the edges of his eyes. His arm fell, the phone clattering away from him as all of his strength left him.
At least he said it.
At least he hadn't died alone.
Dazai was screaming into the phone. He was begging for Chuuya to answer him, to tell him what he meant by loving him.
There was no answer. The other side remained silent as ever.
He snapped his attention to the blond in the driver seat. "Drive faster," and there was a darkness in his voice that promised pain if his demands were not met.
Kunikida was not phased by this. "Shut up," he snapped instead.
Dazai gripped the dashboard, feeling his fingers dig into the plaster. He wanted to scrape his nails raw, break them agianst the car in a way that had only been described in the past as torture.
How had he never known?
What was he supposed to do now?
He tapped his fingers along his arm, playing a tune from long ago, the phone dead in his hands. The call had disconnected. They had the location.
They just needed to make it.
Yosano leaned forward from the back seat, gripping Dazai's shoulder tightly, her manicured nails digging into his skin - a warning and a comfort. He was here, he was surrounding by people he trusted. He was here. He was surrounded by people who could help.
"Hey," she said, forcing him to focus on her. "You've got to let him drive. And calm the fuck down. We'll make it."
We have to went unsaid.
No one in this car, Dazai included, knew what he would do if Chuuya died.
He wasn't allowed to die, not until they both had reached immortality like in the old stories and laugh at all the humans living their perfectly normal lives.
Dazai couldn't live without Chuuya. He wasn't expecting to have that revelation tonight, but he also wasn't expecting a death call from his dog, so it was understandable that he was a bit manic.
Did you ever know how much I love you?
No, Dazai hadn't, and it squeezed his chest, because he had always noticed Chuuya, had always looked his way, had always hoped to be something to the brilliant redhead. And yet, he had always been the one to fall short - the one who left, the one who moved forward without the other, the one that strived for the light - whatever that meant. They had never been on the same page, had never seen eye to eye.
He had to get there.
He chewed his lip, blood blossoming on his tongue.
Did you ever know how much I love you?
Fuck.
Chuuya wasn't completely gone, though he was at the point wished he was. His body was swaying - or was that his head? He couldn't think of what was making him shiver. Oh, right, he had been shot.
He was… shot.
He was… dying.
He saw his phone, streaked blood, screen cracked. And wasn't that funny? He's always taken meticulous care of his phone, barely a scuff, and now the screen was warped and puddles of broken LCD stared up at him.
His arm was clamped across his stomach, staunching whatever blood flow it could, puddles of blood, puddles of LCD. If he wasn't so light-headed, he could use his Ability to help him out, but he was far too gone for that. If he wasn't dying, he'd laugh at the silliness of his mind.
Would he get a next life?
"Ifi get…a'nuver life," Chuuya slurred to the sky - what little he could see of it, dark and foreboding, hidden behind the skyscrapers of Yokohama, as always. "C'nai spenfit wif you?"
"Is that a declaration of eternal love?" a voice cut through his thoughts, slightly mocking and wholly his.
Chuuya rolled his neck back, choking slightly as the movement caused blood to go back down his throat. "Wha?" It was more a sigh than a word - he was pretty sure his lips hadn't moved. He was so tired.
Dazai kneeled in front of him. "Is that a declaration of love, Chibi?" he asked, and with the lilting tone.
Chuuya felt his heart stutter in his chest. He gave the other a cracked, bloody smile, soft on the edges, and used the last of his strength to poke the other man's nose. "Nex'time," he slurred with the last of his strength. "Les'do'it... better." His eyes slid shut, and he could no longer feel the brick digging into his back.
He didn't care.
Dazai was here, and Chuuya wasn't alone.
Butterflies filled his vision, and he remembered nothing more as his body went slack against the wall.
Dazai's gaze turned sharply on Yosano. "Is he…?"
The woman sat on her heels, wiping her palms on her skirt. "No, he isn't," she told him. She stood, butterflies sinking back into her skin. She turned to him, a smile breaking across her face. "He'll be fine." She looked around at the dingy alley, lip curled in distaste. "Though he probably would enjoy another view when he wakes up."
Dazai stared at the slumped body of the redhead, almost in stunned disbelief. His shirt was stiff and crimson with drying blood. His head lolled to the side. Overall, he looked like a broken puppet.
"We were… in time?" Dazai didn't want to ask, but he had to be sure.
Yosano grabbed his hand, giving in a firm squeeze. "We made it," she assured him, her lips quirking up in a smile.
Dazai felt stilted, almost off balance as he lurched forward, gathering the smaller man in his arms.
Did you ever know how much I love you?
No, he hadn't. But he did now.
"Kunikida," he said, turning to the blond. He gave him one of his rare true smiles, the ones that didn't show even the shadow of malice.
Kunikida raised an eyebrow. "Yes?"
Dazai's gaze drifted to the man in his arms. "Thank you," he whispered, not knowing what else to say in the moment.
Kunikida snorted, clearly embarrassed by this display of emotions. "You owe me a month's worth of paperwork for this," he grumbled, but he wasn't being serious, as he fixedly did not look at the duo.
He was surprised when Dazai answered, "Two months." His gaze had never left the mafioso. "You have my word."
Kunikida wisely chose not to comment on that as he held the back door to the van opened. "Come on," he said. "Let's go home."
Dazai felt something seize in his chest. Home was something that had been for fairy tales and lies. But then again, so had Chuuya.
As he stared down at the unconscious redhead in his arms, feeling the other's steady breath puffing against his throat, he couldn't help but think that maybe home was in his reach after all.