Chapter Text
As rain poured down over Yokohama, Chuuya reasoned he must be serving some kind of karmic retribution. That's the only reason he could think for why he was currently sitting on a rooftop in the middle of a storm. To make matters worse, his ability was all but useless with the bandaged menace pressed up against his side. Throwing a elbow at the crowded form of a skinny annoyance did little to deter him from getting as close as possible.
"Mori said we had to do this mission together, he didn't say we had to be fused at the hip, jackass." The words hissed out between gritted teeth. Dazai put a finger to his mouth in an exaggerated shush motion. It had been several hours, and Dazai was making sure to tap dance on every single one of Chuuya's nerves. He tried again, voice barely above a whisper. "Move away, there's no reason to be so damn close."
Dazai responded without a hint of restraint in his voice. "What're you saying? I can't hear you."
Chuuya barely kept himself from screaming, a whispered yell cutting through the rain. "You shushed me?!"
It was equal parts a question and an accusation. One that Dazai met with firm indifference and denial. Dazai shrugged, still pressed against Chuuya's side on a rooftop that easily had enough room for them to spread.
"How much longer is this stakeout going to be? I feel like I'm asking to catch a cold out in this rain."
He brushed soaked red bangs away from sticking to his forehead, not for the first time today. Next to him, Dazai's black hair was drenched and clung to his face. He looked sort of like a bathed cat, eye's wide surrounded by a mess of hair that swallowed the rest of his face.
"Oh we've been done for a while."
"WHY THE FUCK DIDN'T YOU SAY THAT?!" Chuuya yelled, punching Dazai's arm with what little room he had. The bandaged boy had trapped Chuuya with a wall on two sides, keeping him from activating his ability due to Dazai's contact against him. He shoved Dazai away, trying to use Tainted Sorrows to shield himself from the heavy rain.
Dazai stayed glued to his side, like a leech draining every remaining drop of Chuuya's patience.
"It looked like my dog needed a bath, and what cheaper way than the rain!" Was the cheerful response, stated as an obvious reason one would spent time in the rain when it wasn't required.
An agonized groan came from Chuuya as he quickly came to terms with Dazai having left them in the rain for nothing more than his own whims. His hands threaded themselves in his wet hair, palms pressed against his eyes.
"You are the most insufferable bastard I know! I'm going to fucking kill you one day."
Dazai simply grinned, well aware Chuuya couldn't see his delighted expression.
"I'd like to see you try."
***
Chuuya did end up getting sick. Much to his surprise, given he seemed to have an abnormally strong immune system. The one or two times he had gotten sick in his wight years with the Sheep felt like a past life.
Chuuya did NOT take time off.
In the Sheep, a day without Chuuya meant a day where they were completely vulnerable. He had never taken a day off when with them, not willing to risk endangering his family or be another powerless mouth to feed. So, when a couple days later he woke up to his head spinning and his nose stuffy, he got ready for work.
It did not take long for someone to catch on. Specifically, it didn't take long for the Port Mafia boss to notice.
The meeting consisted of Chuuya, Mori, Dazai and Elise, who was currently brushing her doll's hair. It was something about a mission, Dazai and Chuuya would be partnered up to track down a traitor who had sensitive documents about the Mafia. It was late afternoon at this point, and every word seemed to jumble itself together in Chuuya's feverish head. Dazai kept stealing glances at him, making faces every time their eyes locked. The redhead threw a barely passable glare back at him.
"Chuuya, are you feeling alright?"
His attention snapped back to where Mori was giving him a questioning look. It was more emotion than he was used to seeing on the Boss' face. Elise looked up from her doll to also examine Chuuya's paled expression.
"I'm fine Boss, just feeling a little under the weather."
Mori gave Elise a small gesture, and the girl set down her doll to better examine Chuuya. Placing her hand to Chuuya's forehead, he barely felt the energy to move away from unwelcomed physical contact. He settled for scrunching up his nose in an annoyed expression.
Elise turned to Mori, her normal childish tone replaced with a more direct one. "He has a fever. Based on his current symptoms, probably the flu or a cold."
The ex doctor hummed in acknowledgement. "Very well. Thank you, Elise dear. Why don't you go back your toys?"
The girl's demeanor instantly reverted back to her silly childish self, grabbing her doll and running off to play. With the way his head was pounding, Chuuya was half convinced he had hallucinated it.
"Now, I believe this qualifies as a sick day. I know the mafia isn't well known for its good employment practices, but you aren't of much use to me when you can barely see straight. I'll walk you to my office and we can have an examine to get you in peak condition as soon as possible."
The hair on Chuuya's neck stood on end. Immediately, he knew a doctor's appointment was out of the question. He had only been to a doctor once in the eight years of life he recalled. It was when he was found with a broken arm by an old lady. Since then, he had sworn off all doctors, no matter the injury.
It wasn't that he was scared of the doctors. How could you be scared of something you've never had a chance to see or interact with? It was more an overwhelming sense of dread whenever he thought of their long white coats and lab charts. A kind of primal urge to get away, something set deep in his bones. Recently, he had been grouped with a collection of mafiosos knows as the Flags. While he was quickly becoming close with each of the members, he still felt on edge when first seeing Doc in a day. If he still was on a hairline trigger around a friend like Doc, having Mori as his doctor wouldn't work.
"Well, let's get to it. I don't have all day, you know." In Chuuya's hesitation, Mori had approached the door and was standing next to it, white coat on his arm in preperation. The redhead's eyes widened, instinct kicking in where words were failing him. Without any thought put into the action, his ability activated, his feverish mind urging him to fight. Before he could find something suitable to throw in some desperate attempt to avoid what was likely a very reasonable doctor's visit, he felt a shift next to him.
A cold rush was sent from his wrist— which was out of Mori's view— through his nervous system. For the first time this meeting, Dazai spoke up.
"Mori, I think it would be better if Chuuya is just sent home."
Chuuya eyed the bandaged boy from his seat next to him. He couldn't make out much between the pounding in his skull and the bandages that hid Dazai's right eye, but he managed to catch the determined set to his jaw. Mori and Dazai's eyes met, the older man raising an eyebrow inquisitively.
"Surely a doctor would be of more use to Chuuya than simply some bedrest." His voice was even, but his eyes held an unspoken challenge. Dazai subconsciously moved to sit straighter, before schooling himself half way through and regaining his composure.
"There's no need to waste time on a vet trip when i've already got things handled." Dazai's voice held no clue emotion. The sentence would usually be spoken as a taunt or jab, or perhaps even as lighthearted banter on one of their more civil days. To hear it so devoid of tone as foreign to Chuuya, and again he wondered if this was some kind of twisted fever dream.
He cleared his throat as the tension grew, and all three eyes snapped to him with intense focus. "If it's all the same to you Boss, I'd prefer to go home."
And like that, all the weight in the air seemed to disappear. Whatever silent competition the two had been having was gone in the blink of an eye. Mori smiled at Chuuya, a little too sharp for Chuuya not to notice. "Of course. We wouldn't want to force a patient into an office."
"You two can see yourselves out. You have the day off, though i expect to see you at work tomorrow Dazai, even if Chuuya is still recovering." Hanging his coat back up, Elise ran up to Chuuya and Dazai with a drawing she must've made during whatever just happened. Dazai dropped Chuuya's hand like it burned the moment she approached. She handed Dazai a piece of folded paper, pulling his hair to lower him so she could whisper something in his ear. He pulled a face as she skipped away, shoving the drawing she gave him into his suit pocket.
Chuuya stood up first, thanking Mori for the day off before heading to leave, with Dazai hot on his tail.
***
Being sick was miserable. After taking the day off yesterday, he expected to wake up feeling better and instantly get back to his normal, productive self. Instead, he woke up to another throbbing headache and a cold sweat. Next to him, Dazai was curled up, having insisted on spending the night, 'so I don't miss it if the Chibi kicks the bucket'. Chuuya had been sprawled out, a side effect of growing up with a high body temperature surrounded by little kids and not enough blankets to share. Pulling his hand out from underneath where Dazai was currently balled up on top of it, he stumbled out of bed and made his way to the kitchen.
The original plan was to get some water, maybe some fruit. Hell, if he could be bothered, maybe he'd toast some bread to snack on. All of that was quickly abandoned as he approached the kitchen and his stomach turned on him. He pivoted, collapsing onto his couch. Well, really it was Lippman's couch. On of many house warming gifts the Flags had given him when he moved here a month ago, a month and a half after meeting the Flags and two months after joining the Port Mafia. He curled up on the cool leather, noting that it was similar in a way to the soothing cool of No Longer Human. Pulling a blanket over himself, Chuuya felt content to lie here for the rest of his days.
It couldn't have been more than a half hour before the fishy bastard crawled out of his bedroom and made his way to the living room. Walking up to Chuuya's scrunched up form, he poked the redhead's foot. Chuuya quickly retracted his foot, pulling it tighter to his body and away from the walking annoyance currently disgracing his home. Poking him again, Dazai yawned and leaned back on the couch.
"Are you planning on making food or have you decided you're sick of your kibble?"
Chuuya kicked where he approximated Dazai's head would be, missing the boy entirely and kicking at open air.
"Can't be bothered to make food." He grumbled, burying his face deeper into his blankets for strength. "Get out, I didn't say you could spend the night here."
Dazai poked Chuuya's leg again, dodging his attempts to kick the idiot who kept disturbing his attempted coma. "You can't be skipping meals when you're already so short, Chuuya might shrink to the size of dust if he doesn't get proper nutrients!"
"Didn't Mori say you were working today? Why are you still here, go away." His words lacked any bite to them, sounding more like a vaguely annoyed protest instead of an angry semi-threat. However, it did appear successful given how Dazai stood and Chuuya heard the soft padding of Dazai's socked feet walking away. Grateful finally to able to slip into a fever coma, Chuuya let his mind drift.
Only to be rudely awakened five minutes later with a glass of water, a peeled orange and a piece of paper shoved into his face.
Blinking the sleep from his eyes, he glared at the offending items held out in Dazai's hands. He raised an eyebrow in a silent question, but Dazai simply shrugged in response. Chuuya wordlessly picked up an orange slice and started eating. Satisified, Dazai relinquished the plate and glass to him and reclaimed his spot on the floor in front of the couch.
Chuuya shook the paper lightly, Dazai picking up on the unspoken question of 'What's this?'. Dazai leaned back to rest his head on top of Chuuya's feet, who chose not to instantly kick the bandage freak.
"Elise made it. Wanted me to give it to you because you're sick."
Chuuya's mind struggled in his tired, sick state to catch up with what that meant. When he did he opened the drawing to see himself, dazai, elise and mori drawn crudely surrounded by flowers with a big, bold message of 'GET WELL SOON' above them.
He remembered getting a card for the old lady the day after he was brought to the hospital. Tears welled up in his eyes, too tired to prevent that. Before they could trip over, he pushed the feeling away. A soft smile danced on his lips despite the bittersweetness of the memory.
"Thanks Dazai."
The boy mumbled a 'your welcome, slug'. under his breath, the two of them sat in a comfortable quiet.
.
.
.
Until Dazai attempted to steal an orange slice, resulting in swift kick from Chuuya that managed to land despite all the odds.