Chapter Text
“And up one more stupid rock…” Dazai sucks in a sharp breath as he stretches his shaking hand to the next handhold on this rocky cliff—
His foot slips, sending him crashing down to the dirt, again.
“Ow,” Dazai whines. He stares up at the clear sky above him and makes no effort to move. He will still splayed out on the dirt like this until Mori finds him and that’s that. Having already fallen off this stupid cliff twice, he has no desire to try for a third time. While the cliff face is rough and there are plenty of handholds, Dazai simply does not have the upper body strength to climb up a wall that is at least two stories high. Maybe three. It’s kind of hard to tell from this angle.
Well, whatever. Not his problem anymore since he is staying put. If Mori didn’t want to have to come find him, then he shouldn’t have given Dazai this ridiculous mission in the middle of nowhere to begin with! It wasn’t even an interesting mission, just a group of idiots who thought they could steal from the Port Mafia so long as they ran really far away afterwards.
Considering Dazai helped them lose their heads not two hours ago, their plan didn’t work all that well.
“This is boring,” Dazai grumbles to himself after about five minutes of lying on his back in the dirt. He would try to call Mori and tell his boss to hurry up, but his phone got lost somewhere between murdering the idiots and trying to climb this rock wall. Technically another option would be to turn back and try to figure out a way out of this gorge Dazai has somehow gotten himself stuck in, but that involves significant effort and sounds too hard.
Lying here and awaiting rescue it is.
“Not my problem if Mori leaves me here.” Mori is the one who is always going on about Dazai being seventeen now and therefore almost of age to officially become his heir, so Mori needs Dazai alive right now. Of course, Dazai has no desire to inherit the mafia, so he doesn’t mind if Mori decides to let him wither away out here.
Sighing, Dazai closes his eyes and settles in to await rescue.
His back hurts. While no one ever said awaiting rescue was fun, he does kind of wish there were a few less rocks digging into his spine.
Night has fallen, yet Mori and his helicopter are not here. How annoying. Dazai figured that even if Mori didn’t bother coming to get him, Hirotsu would.
“At least I’m skipping paperwork time,” Dazai mutters to himself. He really does hate doing paperwork. It’s boring and pointless! Everything important gets memorized, so the stuff that is allowed to be written down doesn’t matter that much.
Five minutes later Dazai groans and sits up. “This is so stupid!” He grabs one of the annoying rocks that has been digging into his spine and throws it as hard as he can at the cliff.
“Ow,” the cliff grumbles.
Sighing, Dazai lies back down. He already decided not to move, so Mori had better hurry up, otherwise Dazai might end up a nighttime snack for some critter—
Wait a minute.
Slowly, he sits up again.
“Did you talk?” He asks the cliff. Predictably, it does not answer.
Dazai picks up another nearby rock and, once again, tosses it as hard as he can.
“Ow, stop that,” the cliff says.
Dazai pinches his arm. He is relatively certain that he is not hallucinating or on any type of drug right now, but the cliff did in fact talk to him.
Just in case, Dazai throws a third rock.
“Will you cut it out?!” The cliff suddenly shifts, old rocks and dirt cracking and spilling to the ground below, some of the dust hitting Dazai, revealing grimy red scales. The cliff — the dragon, Dazai corrects as he sees large, leathery wings stretch out wide, causing more dirt to rain down on him; but it’s the fierce, blue, serpentine eyes glaring at him that really give it away — puffs a blob of smoke Dazai’s way, making him cough.
Dazai peers around the dragon and glowers at it when he realizes that the whole ‘cliff’ blocking his path is now completely gone.
“Couldn’t you have moved earlier?”
“I was sleeping,” the dragon growls, “until someone started rudely throwing rocks at my eye and woke me up!”
“Hmm, sounds like a you problem.” Dazai starts to walk around the dragon. His path is clear, he might as well head for the pick-up spot again. “Okay, bye. I have no business talking to strange dragons.” Not that he is familiar with any dragons, he did think they were extinct, but that’s not the point.
“Hang on,” the dragon grumbles, “I have a few questions— hey, seriously, stop.” Dazai waves over his shoulder without looking back and keeps walking.
The dragon growls. Moments later, Dazai yelps as he is abruptly flipped upside-down thanks to a surprisingly smooth red tail that is now curled around his ankles. His coat flops against the back of his head, tugged down by gravity.
“Rude,” Dazai huffs. “What kind of dragon are you? I’ve never met a dragon that had such bad manners!” He has never met a dragon. Not one outside of his books, anyway.
“Wha— I— well, you are a human! You threw rocks at my eye! What do you care about manners?!” The dragon lifts him up — very high, yikes. A fall from this height could kill him — until they are eye level. Dazai glares at the single blue eye that is squinting at him and does his best to look down his nose at the dragon while being upside-down.
“Put me back down unless you want me to go home and tell everyone about the meanie dragon I met that was incredibly rude and didn’t even introduce himself!”
The dragon makes an odd rumbling noise. “No need to be so hasty, human.” Dazai is quickly set back right-way-up and on his own feet. Huh. Guess the books he read growing up were right about dragons caring about their reputation. “I just want to know what year it is.” The dragon’s wings ruffle, shaking more dirt into the air. “I have a tendency to take long naps and may have accidentally slept through a council meeting I promised to go to.”
Dazai perks up. “Like, the dragon council? That one where all the dragon nobility meets every century to discuss important things?”
“Yes,” the dragon replies, nodding his massive head.
“Yeah, you missed it. They’ve been dead for years.”
Dazai wishes he had his phone so he could take a picture of the way the dragon’s jaws part and his pink forked tongue flops out. There was never an illustration for what ‘shocked dragon’ looks like, but now Dazai knows. Heh, cool. He knows dragon facts no one else does, take that Fyodor.
“Surely you jest,” the dragon stammers. His black claws dig into the ground, tearing up the earth. “That is impossible. I cannot have slept for more than a century!”
“Try three to four,” Dazai replies very helpfully. “Dragons have been extinct for a while.” He pauses and cocks his head. “So, what’s that make you? Some weird lizard?”
“What? I am obviously a dragon, you fool.”
“No, no,” Dazai flaps his hands around and fights to keep a straight face as the dragon gets riled up. “See, if all dragons are dead, logically, you can’t be a dragon. It doesn’t make sense. So, you must be a weird lizard. Family outcast, I’d guess. Ate too many bugs and got fat.”
“I AM NOT FAT!” The dragon roars, the ground trembling as he stomps a clawed foot that is larger than Dazai’s entire self.
“Mhm, sure.” Dazai rolls his eyes. “Anyway, I’m going home. Goodbye, weird fat lizard.” Without further ado, Dazai starts walking toward his pick-up spot again.
“Wha— hey! You cannot just leave! We are talking! I need you to tell me where I am.” Dazai ignores the dragon’s whining. He has his own problems to deal with, like mentally preparing himself to feign sleep through an entire helicopter ride so Mori won’t talk to him.
“Hey.” A hand lands on his shoulder. A human hand. And the dragon’s voice sounds a lot less growly.
Curious, Dazai glances over his shoulder. He does a double-take then spins around to face the dragon who has shapeshifted into human form (guess that it’s true that dragon nobility posses that power) and gapes.
The dragon preens under the attention. “Now then, could you inform me on our whereabouts?”
“You.” Dazai bites his tongue. “You’re so…”
“Amazing?” The dragon suggests, planting hands on his hips and puffing up his bare chest. “Stunning? Incredibly handsome?” The way he tips his chin up shows off a jagged scar that runs across his throat. Dazai’s curiosity is immediately piqued: who could have gotten close to a dragon’s throat and managed to cut it?
Nevertheless, there are more immediate things to deal with, such as: “You’re short!” Unable to help it, Dazai bursts into cackles, truly amused for the first time since he officially joined the mafia.
“I AM NOT SHORT!” The dragon screeches. One of his hands smacks Dazai’s chest with enough strength to send Dazai sprawling to the ground, but even that can’t stop his laughter. “Stop that! You are just unfairly tall!”
Dazai gets to his feet, opens his mouth, pauses to ensure he has gained control of his laughter, then speaks. “So, is it true that dragons gain height as they age?”
“Sometimes.” The dragon narrows his eyes, the slit pupil only more obvious now that he is in human form.
“So, what are you? Five?”
“FIVE?!” The dragon pinches the bridge of his nose, smoke rising from between his clenched teeth. “You infuriate me, human. Fine, go away. I will find a better, less annoying, human to talk to.”
“Okay, bye.” Like there is anyone else around out here. Dazai continues on his way, counting down from twenty. He only makes it to twelve before heavy footsteps signal the dragon’s approach.
Dazai turns to the little dragon, ready to make a quip, only for the dragon to point one rather sharp-looking black nail his way and growl, “One more joke about my height and I will eat you.”
“Testy,” Dazai mutters. Not his fault the top of the dragon’s ruby hair, the same shade as his earlier scales, hardly makes it to Dazai’s shoulders.
The dragon follows a few steps behind Dazai, then sighs loudly and patters up to walk at his side. “I sincerely hope you are going to a town. I have no idea where we are and, even though you are a rude human, do not wish to find my way to civilization alone.”
“I mean you could call one of your dragon friends.” Dazai fake gasps. “Oh, wait, they’re all dead. My bad.”
The dragon rolls his eyes. “I heard you the first time. They are dead, I understand.”
Dazai squints. “You don’t look that upset.” He figured suddenly being the last of your kind would be jarring, but the little red dragon does not seem bothered.
“I always knew I would outlive them, so this is not a surprise.” The dragon shrugs. “I may have slept longer than intended and may not have gotten along with most of the others, but I am glad I was not around to witness their deaths. I did have some friends.”
Slowly, Dazai’s brain connects a few dots based on the facts he knows.
One: this dragon apparently knew he is strong enough to outlive the other dragons. That seems important. Two: he is short and that makes Dazai laugh. Three: the dragon has nowhere else to go. Four: Mori has been getting on Dazai’s last nerve about finding an appropriate right-hand for when he is officially announced as heir.
“Hey, Dragon, do you want to make a deal?”
Five: if Dazai can pull this off, it would be hilarious.
“What kind of deal?” Those serpentine eyes are narrowed again, but the tilt of his head says the dragon is curious. Good. Dazai can work with that.
“See, you’ve been asleep for a long time. I happen to be very intelligent for a human, and I have lots of money.” Dazai, watching carefully for any reaction, notes the way the dragon perks up ever so slightly at the mention of wealth. “I could be your human guide. I could teach you modern-day things, give you somewhere to live where you could easily accumulate significant wealth, and even help you travel abroad on occasion. I do know several languages.”
“What do you want in return?”
“Oh, nothing that important,” Dazai says flippantly. “All you have to do is stick by my side and keep me alive. I have some enemies, you see, and if I die, poof goes all my assistance towards helping you,” Dazai reaches over and pokes the dragon’s slim, button nose just for fun — the way the dragon’s eyes go wide and his entire face scrunches up like he is going to sneeze is a bonus.
“I see,” the dragon murmurs. “If I help you, you will help me.” The dragon thinks about it for all of six seconds. “Very well, human, I agree to those terms. Until you die of natural cause, I will ensure your survival, so long as you help me establish a new home, life, and— and a hoard. I accept the bond.”
“Really?” Dazai’s lips quirk up. That did not take all that much convincing.
“Really,” the dragon replies. “I know you are not lying; I can feel that the bonds I held with my kin are gone. Perhaps it is silly, but even when the deaths of my friends did not wake me, you did. It seems to me that we have been brought together for a reason, and who am I to oppose Fate?”
Dazai scoffs. “You believe in fate? I thought dragons didn’t believe in anything. That gods and whatever else are all human constructs.” At least, that’s what he read. It will quickly become obvious whether the information Dazai has acquired in the books he and Fyodor read in their youth hold any credibility.
“Perhaps,” the dragon murmurs. Annoying enough, he does not say anymore on the matter and Dazai has a feeling that prying right now will not be fruitful.
“So, I help you and you help me?” The dragon nods. “Good, now all we need to do is seal the pact.” With a completely straight face, Dazai holds out the pinky finger of his right hand. The dragon stares blankly at him. Excellent.
“Do you not know of the esteemed pinky promise?” Dazai asks innocently.
“No.” The dragon frowns. “Is it a human thing?”
“Sort of. Everyone uses it these days for matters of importance. Only the most serious of pacts are agreed to with a pinky promise, you see. If broken, the party at fault will be struck dead within a day.”
“Oh, I understand.” The dragon lifts his own hand, then frowns. “How do I…?”
“It’s easy,” Dazai says. He grabs the dragon’s slim hand and interlocks their pinky fingers together for a moment before breaking contact. The dragon still looks incredibly confused.
“There. All done.” Dazai smiles down at the dragon. “Now then, I’m Dazai, and before we find my ride back home, you should tell me all about yourself. I have to know about my new best friend in order to ensure I can accurately help you integrate into the human world.”
“I am— my friends called me Chuuya. I guess you can use that name.” The dragon frowns. “Are you certain humans are in charge now? I really thought dogs would be the next to rule the world after dragons were gone.”
“Ew,” Dazai shudders, “you think that a bunch of slobbery fur-balls could rule the world?”
Chuuya gapes. “You do not like dogs?”
“Why would you?! Shouldn’t you eat dogs? Isn’t that a dragon thing, eating animals smaller than you— er, I guess in your case, anything that you can find that isn’t too big for you to swallow?”
“I am not small!” The dragon sticks his forked tongue out and hisses at Dazai like a snake. That is interesting — and not exactly an easy characteristic to hide. Herm. What a dilemma. “I can eat whatever I want, like any dragon of proper standing!”
“Okay, yeah, sure. Anyway, should probably mention it now, but it would be best if you did not let other humans know that you’re a dragon. It would get messy. They would want to, ah, hurt you if they found out.” Probably do worse than hurt, actually. Any government that could get their hands on a real-life dragon would be delighted. Dragon scales are notoriously sturdy: any armour made with the fossilized scales that have been found is almost guaranteed to be impenetrable. And that’s just the scales. Who knows what they could do with a whole, live dragon.
“That makes sense,” Chuuya nods. “I understand. I will not tell others of my nature. I can hold my transfigured form for weeks before I will need to switch back, and I am certain a few weeks will be an adequate time to prepare a proper and safe home in which I can be whatever form I please without worry of intruders.”
“…Sure. Why not.” Dazai will figure something out. Maybe get a basement built in his own place and get Chuuya to live down there. He has a feeling Mori would notice if Dazai bought a whole new house. Though suddenly constructing a large basement for his new bodyguard might come across as more suspicious. And the ground under his shipping container probably isn’t the best either…
Eh, whatever. He’ll figure something out.
“So,” Dazai prompts after a moment of silent walking, “tell me about yourself.”
“Very well,” Chuuya nods. “We shall exchange information. A question for a question.”
Dazai blinks. He doesn’t really want to give the dragon anything on himself. Who knows, maybe the teeny dragon is trying to manipulate Dazai as he is manipulating Chuuya. However, refusing would be odd and would ruin the argument he is somewhat trying to make of convincing the dragon to be his friend in addition to his bodyguard. It would be extra funny if Dazai could convince the last living dragon to be loyal to him of all people.
“Sure. I’ll go first: How old are you?”
“I do not know. You have yet to tell me the year.”
“Oh.” Dazai rattles of tonight’s date. Chuuya’s brow pinches.
“Ah. Well, I should prefer not to share my age at the moment,” the dragon mutters, a bit of pink tinting his cheeks. “It appears I have slept for much longer than I intended. How peculiar.” Chuuya stares intensely at Dazai for a solid twenty-three seconds before nodding to himself and emitting an odd rumbling noise from his chest.
“Okay?” Dazai says, not really sure what to make of that. “Well, I just had my seventeenth birthday.” The dragon makes another rumbling noise, this one a few pitches higher than before. Surprise, maybe? “Akutagawa tried to give me a cupcake,” Dazai scoffs.
“Cupcake?”
“Yes, dear?” Dazai grins at the look on Chuuya’s face. He knows befuddlement well enough to recognize it on anyone. “Sorry, couldn’t resist. A cupcake is sugary treat some people like, but it can also be used as a term of endearment between partners.”
“How odd,” Chuuya mumbles. “You name those you care about after food? Do humans normally eat each other now?”
“Nope!” Dazai makes a big x with his arms. “Cannibalism is frowned upon. So maybe refrain from threatening to eat people, they’ll think you’re weird.”
“I will take it under advisement,” Chuuya says. He hums for a moment, then nods to himself. “What is your family like?”
“Dead,” Dazai replies flippantly. He doesn’t bother asking about Chuuya’s family in return.
“Oh.”
They walk in silence for a bit, then Dazai asks a question he really wants to know the answer to: “What’s your magic ability? All dragons have one power they specialize in, right?” Rumor has it that the abilities humans posses nowadays come from dragon abilities; that those who have them are descendants of a dragon and human relation from a very long time ago.
Chuuya huffs. Smoke escapes from the corners of his mouth, floating up to disappear into the night. “I should like to answer that at a later date.”
“Why?” Refusing only makes Dazai more curious. It must be something interesting if Chuuya doesn’t want to say anything.
“The information you are requesting I divulge is considered incredibly personal. I do not know you well enough to entrust it to you.”
Dazai pouts. “What?! But we’re best buddies! I’m going to help you get lots of money and shiny things, and you’ll keep me alive, so that’s like the ultimate friendship! Come on,” Dazai goads, “you can trust me!”
“Not yet,” the dragon replies. Dazai scowls. His books never said anything about dragons being stubborn.
Before he can dwell on it and figure out a way to coax out the truth, Dazai notices their surroundings and halts. Weird forky tree. Patch of flattened grass. This is definitely where he was dropped off earlier, so where’s the helicopter?
He spins in a slow circle, giving his eye time to take in everything in case he missed a whole entire helicopter. He did not.
“Well, this is quite the pickle,” Dazai sighs, planting his hands on his hips and scowling.
“What?”
“It’s an expression, Lizard. Means we’re stuck in an annoying situation.”
“Oh.” Then Chuuya scowls and flashes sharp teeth Dazai’s way. “I am not a lizard! Do not insult me such.”
“Fine, fine. Whatever you say, Chibi.”
Serpentine eyes narrow. “What does that one mean?”
Dazai fights to keep the grin from his lips. “It’s a friendly term, like calling someone ‘friend’ or ‘buddy’. But there are specific qualifications that must be met to use it, so maybe hold off on using it for now.”
“Oh, okay. So, what is the situation that is annoying you?” Chuuya glances over Dazai’s shoulder. “Is it the bear?”
“What bear?!” Dazai whirls around to find, as Chuuya pointed out, a large brown bear watching them from behind some trees. Once the bear sees it has been noticed, it growls a low note and take a step closer.
“Just flash your fangs at it,” Chuuya says, clearly uninterested in the bear.
“What?” Dazai says his tone pitched higher than he would like.
“Well,” Chuuya starts, a small frown tipping his lips down. “You said humans are in charge now. Surely you have developed ways of controlling the species beneath you through intimidation and warning cues?”
“No! Humans shoot things, we don’t growl at them!” Technically, Dazai does have a gun on hand, but he doesn’t know how effective a small pistol is against a large bear and does not want to find out what happens if it doesn’t work.
“How odd.” Chuuya sighs and shakes his head like that fact is disappointing. “No wonder you need a protector to stay alive.” He takes a few steps forward, placing himself between Dazai and the clearly angry bear. Chuuya bares his sharp teeth at the bear, then growls loud enough that the air around them seems to tremble. The bear escapes into the woods. Chuuya flicks his fork tongue after it and gives a small hiss.
Dazai clears his throat to regain some composure. “Thanks, I guess.”
“It was only a bear,” Chuuya shrugs. “Hardly worthy of my efforts.”
“Right.” Dazai takes another look around the clearing. “Hey, Chibi, any chance your ability is teleportation?”
“No. Why?”
“It seems Mori, he’s my boss, has decided to abandon me here. I don’t know why he has, but it is quite annoying. I might just die if I have to walk home!” Dazai wails.
“No, you will not,” Chuuya scoffs. “I would not allow you to die. That was our agreement. If you will die from walking, then I will carry you.”
Dazai blinks. He… didn’t account for that. It would be quite annoying if he managed to find the perfect time and place to die and thus escape the mafia only for this tiny dragon to ruin it. Perhaps that is something to consider at a later date when he has not just been abandoned in the wilderness by Mori.
“Right. My bad, it’s just an expression.”
Chuuya frowns. “That is an odd expression. Humans have made language weird over the last centuries.”
“Oh, you have no idea.” Dazai grimaces. “I don’t even understand some of the vocabulary that is popular these days.”
“Peculiar,” Chuuya comments. “Now then, would you like me to carry you to our destination?”
Dazai slowly raises an eyebrow. He doesn’t say anything, just stares down at Chuuya and silently wonders how that would even work. Dazai is significantly lankier than the short dragon. It’s not that he is doubting Chuuya’s strength, the dragon is not wearing a shirt so Dazai can see his muscles, but just. How?
“I am taking your silence as agreement.”
“Wait,” Dazai begins. He cuts off as Chuuya strides off several paces, putting distance between them. Then, with a bright flash of red that momentarily blinds his visible eye, Chuuya is no longer human-shaped. Dragon-shaped Chuuya cranes his head down so his snout is near Dazai and blows a plume of thick, grey smoke over him.
“Oh.” Great, now Dazai feels dumb. “Thanks for that.” He undoubtedly smells like campfire now. How delightful.
“Do you know how to navigate to our destination?” Chuuya asks, the words clipped and growly thanks to his large, Dazai-size fangs.
“Yeah. So, how do I climb onto your back?” Dazai patters a few steps to the left and peers at Chuuya’s side. Jagged black spikes run the length of his spine, and the red scales on his back look rougher than the ones on his tail and chest.
“You do not.”
“What—?” Dazai freezes as Chuuya’s tail winds tightly around his form, pinning his arms to his sides. “No, no! Put me down—!” He shrieks as Chuuya’s large, leathery wings pound down at the same time as he rears up on his hind legs and leaps, propelling them into the air.
In general, humans have always craved flight. That is why airplanes, parachutes, and hang-gliders were invented. So, logically, getting to experience actual flight should be amazing.
However, when flight consists of being constricted to near death and continuously whipped from side to side since dragons use their tails to steady their flight, it is not a pleasurable experience. Had Dazai been someone with a weaker stomach, he has no doubt he would have thrown up multiple times already. There isn’t even a good view since Chuuya went up into the clouds (making it that much harder to breathe, how fun), so all Dazai gets to see are white and grey fluffs.
Then Chuuya flaps down hard and they shoot up several feet, breaching the clouds, and flaps repeatedly to hold them in place.
“Wow,” Dazai murmurs to himself as he peeks at the night sky above them. Okay, this is a good view. He doubts anyone has ever seen the stars like this. Undiluted by distance or human machinery as they are, the stars sparkle like nothing he has ever seen before. If his arms were not being crushed against his ribs, Dazai would be tempted to reach out and see if he could touch them.
“What direction?” Chuuya growls. Dazai startles. He forgot he was supposed to be paying attention to that.
“Uh.” Dazai looks at stars to get his bearings and promptly goes back to thinking about how pretty they are.
Chuuya flicks his tail, rattling Dazai’s brain against his skull. “What direction?” The dragon asks again.
“East,” Dazai says. “We go east. Yokohama is north-east, so we should land in on the outskirts of a smaller city east from here then travel using more traditional methods to Yokohama. You landing in the middle of a park would not be very subtle.”
“Very well.” Without warning, Chuuya tucks his wings to his back and tips his nose down, allowing them to enter a rather rapid free-fall. Dazai definitely does not scream.
When Chuuya flares his wings out to catch them, they are hidden in the clouds once more. So much for getting to enjoy the starry sky. Then Dazai is wrenched one way, and back the other, so he closes his eyes and pretends this is a carnival ride. He’ll never get to experience the real thing again and getting whipped around by a dragon is pretty close.