Thread by @Blind_Blossom

But consider Chuuya who brings Yumeno and Elise trick or treating.

He /insisted/ to let the kids be kids, for once, and Elise was delighted to have some time away from the gloom atmosphere of the Port Mafia.

That’s how the fearsome, powerful Gravity Manipulator™️ found

himself at the outskirts of Yokohama, with an Queen-Elsa-Elise and a Ghost-Yumeno pressed against his sides and gawking in awe.

And Chuuya—

To be completely honest, he hasn’t felt so /light/ ever since Dazai decided to disappear into thin fucking air.

It’s been almost a year.

He misses Dazai.

He misses working with the Mackerel. He misses his stupid scent, his stupid touch, the stupid way he used to ruin Chuuya’s days—

Hell, he’s probably the one who needed a night off.

As they walk, the executive /does/ notice how Yumeno keeps fidgeting with the

pumpkin-shaped basket.

Elise is swinging hers, delighted and going on about ‘how many candies she’ll get for being so cute and well-dressed’, but Yumeno acts like he doesn’t know what to do with themselves.

It’s painfully awkward and it /hurts/.

It hurts, because Yumeno is the personification of everything a child /shouldn’t/ go through.

That’s the only fucking scary thing tonight, the executive thinks.

And Chuuya’s heart clenches at how clearly Yumeno misses their doll, but there’s not much he can do about it.

It’s already a miracle Boss let them all go for a night.

Some say it’s a miracle Ane-San allowed /him/ to go, considering that the other half of Double Black vanished and Chuuya is too much of a loyal mutt not to run after him.

/Anyway/.

Chuuya did it for the kids, because

someone /had/ to, and he’ll make damn sure they all have a good time.

The area is nice, peppered with nice apartment blocks and out of Port Mafia territory, so the trio makes a beeline for the first house.

(Elise insists to ring the doorbell herself because she’s a grown up.

Chuuya allows her to, thinking that she /definitely/ acts like a brat.)

The first doorbell is answered by an old lady, a spiderweb of wrinkles framing her smile and bent like a branch in winter.

The second is a young mother with a couple of twins peeking out from behind her.

Chuuya doesn’t /get/ to see who is supposed to be in the third house because Elise shoves her pumpkin basket (now slowly filling up with sweets) into his stomach, stopping him.

(It’s unexpected and hurts like a bitch, but the redhead doesn’t even flinch.
He has a reputation.)

“I have an idea,” she declares.

/Oh no./

“Uh-oh,” Yumeno says, too.

Frankly, Chuuya can relate. He scowls, crossing his arms.

“No.”

“But I—“

“No.”

“Chuuya-nii! Don’t be mean!”

“I’m not mean, I’m an adult.”

“Kouyou-San is an adult,” Elise says. “You’re a babysitter.”

Scrunching his nose, Chuuya considers the possibilities.

He could have minded his own damn business and stayed home, instead he’s being bossed around by a kid.

But it’s not like he can exactly tell Boss’ ability to fuck off.

He doesn’t want to die, he’s not— ah.

Nevermind.

“…Ok. Shoot.”

Chin proudly tilted up, Elise swings her little arm at the door in front of them for more emphasis.

Just a clean, white threshold in a corridor of doors that all look exactly the same.

“We take this house, Chuuya-kun the next. We’ll split to cover more ground.”

Chuuya quirks an eyebrow, part amused at how martial she sounds and part worried at the idea.

But… /well/.
Elise is a damn ability.

She’s way faster and stronger than she looks.

If needs be, she can handle herself as well as Yumeno, and— well, he will be just a door away.

What could go wrong?

It’s not like he’s taking a huge risk.

Defeated, Chuuya agrees before Elise can throw a tantrum.

Boss won’t execute him for making Elise cry, he /supposes/, but he’s not completely sure.

Nobody is ever fucking sure, so he’d rather not risk it.

The redhead assesses Yumeno’s expression and decides that the child is /not/ hating the situation, so he nods and allows the kids to go to ring the doorbell.

The third house is a mystery.

The fourth is—

“Ano ne, Ango, you sure took your sweet time with the sake, you f— /oh/.”

Chuuya recognizes the voice before he sees the face.

Suddenly, he understands why /four/ is a number that belongs to death, because—

A corpse stands in front of him.

There is no way Dazai is alive.
Not after almost a year of radio silence.
Not after becoming a /traitor/.

But a pair of brown eyes blink at him, very much alive.

Tousled dark hair, loose bandages around a slim neck, and a ratty grey hoodie that saw better days.

Chuuya’s jaw falls.
Stupidly, the thinks he never saw both those eyes.

They’re so big as Dazai stares back, dumbstruck.

“Chuuya.”

“W—“

/What are you doing here?/

Before Chuuya can talk, Dazai grasps his arm and drags the boy inside the house.

He’s /totally/ being kidnapped by a snotty Mackerel.

In a wild moment of lucidity, Chuuya fears the Demon Prodigy will kill him for finding his lair.

He’ll kill him because, for some strange reason, they keep finding their way to the other.

What a shitty death it’d be. Murdered for being /Dazai’s/ soulmate.

But, then, something soft presses on Chuuya’s mouth.
Not the cold kiss of a knife, but the warm one of gentle lips.

Chuuya is being kissed.

He’s being kissed for the first time after almost a year.

How odd.
Dazai was the last person to kiss him.

(It feels like a lifetime ago.)

But Chuuya never imagined Dazai would /also/ be the first person to kiss him after everything that happened.

As his eyelashes flicker and his lips part, Chuuya wonders if Dazai can taste the crisp fall air on his tongue.

This must be /fate/. A twisted Halloween miracle.

Either that, or a joke of a cruel god that hates them both.

A /trick/, though Dazai’s lips taste so /sweet/.

But then Dazai says his name again — he whispers it against his mouth, warming the redhead’s cheeks in his hands — and all Chuuya’s wounds are healed.

“How did you find me?”

And Chuuya /can’t/ reply, but he tries anyway.

“I wasn’t looking.”

“/Why/ are you here?”

“I’m trick o…” His voice dies into Dazai’s lips. Again, and again.

His heart stutters as Dazai fumbles with the first buttons of his shirt.
Chuuya is not sure if he’s trying to touch more skin or to uncover any hidden bug, but he refuses to ask.

“I’m trick or treating.”

Dazai’s eyebrows jump up, taken aback by the reply.

His hands freeze, and he pushes away enough to scan Chuuya’s face in search of a lie.

A Port Mafia executive out and about trick or treating is /not/ what someone would normally expect.

The brunet blinks.

“…Say again?”

It takes all Chuuya’s resolve to clear his voice.

“I’m trick or treating.”

“The thing kids do?”

He’d much rather just stick his tongue in the stupid traitor’s mouth and forget they were ever strangers.
Still, Chuuya sighs.

“Yeah.”

Dazai’s grin stretches wild and /cruel/.

“Eh~? Chuuya’s short, but not enough to pass for a child.”

// I missed this.
God, I so missed you.//

He lands a weak punch on Dazai’s arm.

“Fuck you!? I took Elise and Yumeno out for Halloween.”

Immediately, Dazai’s expression sours.

“Ah.”

“They don’t know you’re here.”

With his silence, Chuuya is committing treason.
He’s aiding a traitor.
He’s betraying the only family he has.

And yet—

Yet this — whatever this Halloween shitty trick is — seems more important than his loyalty to the Port Mafia.

It’s more important than his own dignity.

In any other circumstance, Chuuya is sure Dazai would worry about being found or dragged back to Mori.

But the way he relaxes and leans his forehead against Chuuya’s is a testament of how much he still /trusts/ his partner.

Or maybe he’s just too drunk to think.

“Fine,” he says. He tugs one strand behind Chuuya’s ear, drinking in ever /detail/, and says again: “Fine.”

“I won’t tell.”

“I know you won’t.”

“I’m—“ Chuuya hesitates, gnawing a this bottom lip. His hand finds Dazai’s, and he /squeezes/ it. “I’m sorry about your friend.”

The smile that flashes across Dazai’s eyes is pained.

“Me too.”

Then, Dazai leans in.

His hand covers Chuuya’s cheek, grazing the supple skin, and his lips seem to seek comfort in that simple peck.

Chuuya steps closer, shuddering oh so slightly. He needs that comfort, too.

But he also knows that they are borrowing time, he and Dazai; it’d be foolish to forget.

Children giggle outside, running from door to door and screaming for more candies. Chuuya flinches.

He’s sure he heard Elise.

/It was the wind/, his mind tries to convince him, but he

knows better than indulging in the obvious lie.

The executive inhales, aching already for the separation.

He has enough of losing Dazai before he even /finds/ him, but that seems to be their destiny; to never be quite on time.

“I need to go back before the kids notice, but...”

“Come back later without them,” Dazai murmurs against his mouth. “Same address. I’ll wait.”

“Dazai, I can’t.”

“/Please/.”

It sounds so /strangled/, and— Dazai’s a /wreck/.

Chuuya can smell the alcohol on him, can feel bones under the thin veil of skin and gauze and clothes.

There’s an edge in Dazai’s voice that makes Chuuya fear that a refusal might /break/ him.

The redhead damns his caring nature, because he would love to nurture this mummy back to health, but—

But he can’t now.

Later, he promises himself, once the kids had enough fun.

Soon.

“Don’t go anywhere,” Chuuya orders. “I’ll be back.”

Dazai wets his lips, giving him the puppy eye. Damn, he has no business being so /cute/.

“Ok.”

“Go have a shower.”

“Ok.”

“Sober up.”

“Ok.”

“Wait for me.”

Ah, it sounds like a /plea/. So lame. So /desperate/.

But Dazai nods again, and again he says: “/Ok/.”

“I…”

Chuuya stops, swallowing his words.

// I still love you, you bastard.

Even if I want to beat your stupid, flat, prettyboy ass. //

However, when he speaks, Chuuya settles for something /safer/.

“I missed you, idiot,”

Dazai smiles — faintly, eyes brimming with pale happiness under the lights of what Chuuya now supposes is a government-issued safe house.

Slowly, he presses his mouth to Chuuya’s cheek.

“I missed Chibi, too.”

//

Prompt for Day 1: A brings their sibling trick or treating, B opens the door

@spoopydazaiweek
#trickortreatdazai

Sorry, this was supposed to be a 3-tweets headcanon and turned into a monster 🎃