ᴀ ʟɪᴛᴛʟᴇ ᴅᴇᴀᴛʜ || ꜱᴏᴜᴋᴏᴋᴜ

• 13 •

"Why did you do that?" Ryuunosuke asked again a few hours later. Dazai was sitting in the corner of the café, pretending that he was injured with an ice pack pressed to his nose. Atsushi had felt so humiliated that he snuck out of the bathroom window, like a horrified woman at a date.

"Like I said, he was annoying me."

"He was just standing there."

"I hate the guy?"

"That sounds like a question."

"What are you? The Mafia? Why are you sticking your nose where it doesn't belong?" Customers stopped their idle chatting and started to spectate the brewing fight. Higuchi appeared from the staff room, just starting her shift. She cocked an eyebrow and the grim reapers gave each other angry glares before turning their back on the other.

"Forget I said anything." Ryuunosuke bitterly spat, returning to the kitchen to finish decorating his chocolate cake. Chuuya rolled his eyes, glancing at the, now snoring, brunet in the corner. Chuuya fought back a grin. It was hilarious to see Dazai asleep, ever since their first sleepover (where they planned Dazai's impossible dream of dying), he had watched him. He wasn't a pretty sleeper, drooling over his pillow or snoring as loud as a firework. His bed hair wasn't even desirable, strands sticking out in every direction and his bangs parted in the middle. He snorts when he wakes up and it makes Chuuya gag every time.

Despite all this, there was something about Dazai, he was created like a drug - a drug that Chuuya is addicted to. He can't think of the last time he went to bed not thinking about that stupid smirk and those thin yet perfect lips. Even his eyes were mysterious, only showing emotion when he wants them to. They suck their victims in like a black hole and they carry such power that if Dazai was a full guardian angel, Chuuya would be dead for sure.

He thought back to the night before, how right it felt to have those lips on his, like two puzzle pieces made to fit. Maybe it was too late for him, maybe he should've killed him that night. The thought of Dazai dying now made his heart ache, did he really want him dead all that time? Perhaps he should revoke his status, tell Mori that he couldn't complete this assignment and to live the rest of eternity in the underworld. Because, if he's honest, he'll never find another Dazai. Eventually Dazai will be slain by another grim reaper, or maybe Mori himself will kill him, or maybe (hopefully) a guardian angel will swoop down to save him. Would he let Chuuya get killed by another guardian angel? All of these questions, all of these theories, and all Chuuya wanted to do was to have that final kiss.

"Chuuya! My ginger biscuit!" Chuuya groaned as the tiresome trio bounced in, Nikolai first, then Fyodor, then Sigma. Fyodor took one look at Dazai and stifled a laugh. Dazai let out a loud snort as he awoke, smacking his lips together and the ice pack slid from his face like a wet fish.

"Hey guys." Chuuya tried his best to not sound discontent by their presence, which only Sigma picked up on. "What can I get for you?"

"Three chocolate brownie frappes please, I'm paying for all of us." Fyodor fished his wallet out of his pocket, on his wallet was Vladimir Putin stroking a rat. What a weird guy, he must've had that custom made.

"Finally sold your body to pay for drinks?" Dazai remarked, sluggishly walking over to the counter as Higuchi busied herself with making the frappes.

"No, but I'll be selling your body on the black market when I'm done with you."

"You? You're anaemic and white, you're not going to do anything to me."

"You're really going to challenge a Russian?"

"Guys, let's not do this." Sigma sighed, rubbing his temples. Dazai twirled a long strand of the bi-coloured hair with his finger and Chuuya's heart thumped against his chest.