Chapter 9

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Mackerel would live, the vet claimed that she would make a full recovery as long as she stayed overnight. They also commended Dazai for 'bravely' shooing away Mackerel's harassers, though all they did was take one look at Dazai before scuttling away.

Dazai had been sitting in the waiting room when Chuuya burst through the doors, eyes immediately landing on him. He wasn't crying and corruption wasn't activated. He made a beeline for him, sitting in the uncomfortable plastic chair across from Dazai.

Chuuya raised an eyebrow at his appearance. "You look like you just went to a damn waterpark."

Dazai snorted "I wish."

Though Chuuya was correct, his clothes were completely soaked through, frost lingering on his hair and eyelashes. His fingers were too numb to brush it away or move to generate warmth, so he had just sat and accepted his fate to freeze to death. (Not his preferred way to go, he would much rather a quick and painless way to part with this world.)

Chuuya's gaze darted over their surroundings. They didn't have to be quiet or polite for the public, the waiting room was a void of any other person. Probably because it was around one in the morning, though Dazai had lost count of time a while ago.

"So Mackerel is okay?"

Dazai shifted slightly "She'll make a full recovery. I stopped the dogs before they could aim for her jugular."

Chuuya breathed out a sweet sigh of relief and they sat there for a while, though Dazai could tell that something was on the tip of his tongue. He fiddled with his choker, a habit he had gained that he probably didn't realize he even had. The Chibi was truly too easy to read.

Though Dazai waited, letting his partner collect his thoughts before he finally moved.

Then there were hands, warm hands, that enveloped Dazai's own. They were slightly smaller than his, but Dazai appreciated the warmth they radiated. Chuuya's hands weren't soft, on the contrary, they were calloused from all of the work he had been put through.

The soggy bandages around Dazai's palms loosened and fell to the side as Chuuya rubbed them, cupping Dazai's hands in his own and pulling them close to breathe life back into them.

Maybe this wasn't such a harsh way to die.

Chuuya looked him straight in the eyes, royal blue locking with chocolate brown. "Thank you, Dazai."

Chuuya's tone was shaky and intense, he had meant it.

Before Dazai could open his mouth to reply, maybe to tell Chuuya that he owed him one. Or that it was no issue (even if it was, Dazai had almost gotten pickpocketed ten different times.) A familiar white-haired male entered the building, bell ringing to signal his arrival. He had a cat cradled in his arm, and his eyes paused slightly when they landed on the teenagers.

The moment was shattered.

"Let's go home, slug. Before the cold takes my life with its icy claws."

Chuuya rolled his eyes "So dramatic." Then offered his own jacket to Dazai.

It seems that their roles had been reversed from a year ago when they had first found Mackerel in the dumpster.

——-

Dazai got sick the next day.

At first, Chuuya had laughed (Dazai was suffering, he wasn't too sure what was funny about it. Was it his messed up hair? Or the green shade on his face?) But then he forced Dazai to lay down in the bed while he whipped up some digestible food. Dazai would throw it up later, but it was the thought that counted.

Chuuya had stayed with him for the remainder of the week instead of calling someone else to tend to Dazai, even doing their workload for the week. Maybe it was his way of getting him and Dazai back on even playing fields so that he didn't owe him any favors. Or perhaps he just cared.

Chuuya treated him in a very Chuuya-like manner, when Dazai didn't eat he practically shoved the food down his throat and when he complained about the medicine Chuuya pinned his weak limbs down to force-feed him the fever reducers.

"Why were you even laughing at me anyways?" Dazai pouted as he nursed the cup of tea in his still cold hands. They never seemed to get warm after the incident, he only felt any heat when they came in contact with Chuuya's skin.

"Well it's ironic- find a damn movie already I'm bored."

Dazai continued to slowly flip through the channels "Sheesh fine. Ironic, How so?"

Chuuya shoved a handful of popcorn in his mouth, the sugar he had sprinkled onto the food clung to his fingers. (Seriously what kind of monster put sugar on their popcorn?) "Well, when we first found Mackerel from the dumpster it was cold and miserable, we were both soaked and you were complaining about me wanting to save the cat. I ended up getting sick." Chuuya smirked "But now you were the one to find her in the freezing cold, and you were the one to get sick. You're such a hypocrite."

Dazai shrugged, bringing the mug up to his lips and finally settling on a criminal documentary that he would probably solve in the first few minutes. "I'm fine with that."

Later when they got Mackerel back from the vet, Chuuya carried the thing around like it was a baby, treating it like it wasn't capable of walking. Something bloomed in Dazai's chest and it wasn't fondness. He should have left her on the streets so that Chuuya didn't always have his attention on her instead of where it should be.

On him, of course.

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