★彡[ᴇᴠᴇʀʏᴏɴᴇ ʟᴏᴠᴇꜱ ᴄʜᴜᴜʏᴀ]彡★

And Just After We Were Starting To Get Along

Chuuya probably would have fallen asleep right then and there if he hadn't sensed Dazai settle down in the grass beside him.

"So~" Dazai said, clearly having no intention of giving his ex-partner even a moment of peace, "How did your date go?"

"I got shot in the leg. How do you think my date went?" 

"Was the food good at least?"

"Never got to try it."

"Well that sucks."

He heard Dazai sigh wistfully, "Speaking of food, I'm starving right now. I really should've gotten something from the Chuestival."

"The...what?"

"The Chuestival. You know, it's like combining the word 'festival' and your na-"

Chuuya pinched the bridge of his nose, "I swear to god Dazai, don't you dare finish that sentence. I'm this close to ripping apart every last one of those booths and smashing them into the ground."

Dazai appeared to consider this for a moment. Then, without an ounce of shame, he reached over and took Chuuya's gloved hand in his own.

"There," he said triumphantly, "now you can't."

Chuuya's eyes snapped open, feeling a familiar flutter in his chest. He wasn't even using his ability but he could still identify the cool touch of nullification.

Dazai wasn't...Dazai wasn't doing this on purpose was he? 

There was no way the detective really thought Chuuya would destroy the festival. But there was also no way that Dazai would- ugh.  Why did his thoughts keep on circulating back to this?

If anything, the idiot was probably just trying to get a rise out of him, so he could laugh when Chuuya angrily snatched his hand back. 

But Chuuya didn't angrily snatch his hand back. And for the life of him, he couldn't understand why.

It wasn't like he appreciated the way Dazai, restless as always, was toying with the fabric of his gloves. Or the way the pad of his thumb had absentmindedly begun to trace the inside of his palm. 

As a matter of fact he hated it. Of course he hated it, what other feeling could describe a sensation so strong? But hatred was supposed to make him flinch away in disgust. Not stay frozen there like he was someone Dazai actually liked. 

Did he...did he want Dazai to like him?

The thought caught his off guard. But still...he couldn't help but wonder. What would it be like?  To be someone Dazai didn't so clearly despise? To be someone he valued? Someone he wanted to actually be around?

It would be giving up any semblance of quiet in your life, that was for sure. That mackerel never did know when to shut up. But other than that...maybe it wouldn't be too bad.

Maybe it would actually be kind of nice.

It occurred to Chuuya, not for the first time, that he was most definitely not the first person to have these thoughts. Osamu Dazai was as much of an enigma as he was man. A genius with an idiotic streak. A cold devil in one breath and a carefree prankster in the other. It was only natural to want him on your side. The who damn city probably thought they needed Dazai. The whole damn city probably did need Dazai.

And for some reason, that bothered Chuuya immensely.

The detective cleared this throat. 

"Um...Chuuya."