There goes a day | Dazai x m! reader

8.

Whatever higher powers that were out there were being far too generous with your time, it seemed.

Nothing had happened for the solid week it'd been since your vision. In fact, you were getting nervous about what could happen. You had a deal with Fyodor, you would have to rehash things out. He had sent you a message a few days ago telling you to call when you were ready for him to uphold his end of the deal.

Meanwhile, something horrible was simmering in your gut. You were growing into an anxious wreck with every uneventful day that passed and inevitably faded into the obscurity of your subconscious. The only variation in your day was a steady increase in your workload as you got better at the skills you needed for your job- reading and typing in Japanese, programming, hacking. Assorted other things that you knew sounded a bit unsavory to law-abiding citizens, like draining bank accounts.

You knew Chuuya had figured out that you were anxious, because he had cranked up his whole 'constant physical contact' routine to an 11 (or maybe a 12, you weren't sure how to quantify it).

You were sitting on your bed, and as it stood now he was digging through your closet to help you get dressed for a little celebration he had all but insisted on taking you out for. He had sprung it on you over breakfast when he realized it had been nearly two weeks and he hadn't given you a formal welcome back. (You got the feeling he wouldn't let you say no.)

And so you were here, legs crossed rather awkwardly, nose in your notebook as you listened to him mumble to himself about the contents of your closet.

"I don't know why you had to pick such a fancy place," you muttered.

"Because I like you, idiot," he said over his shoulder. "Found anything interesting in your book of visions over there?" he asked. You shook your head.

"Nah, not yet. Lots of things I'm pretty sure already happened."

"Oh? Like what?" he asked, then laid a few pieces of clothing on the bed beside you. He slid into the opposite seat.

"Apparently, I foresaw that somebody named Oda Sakunosuke would die. I'm assuming he was part of the mafia, given the familiarity with which I wrote about him." Chuuya frowned at the mention of the name.

"I remember the argument when Dazai found out," he said, sounding like he felt bad about the entire situation. You couldn't tell who he felt bad for. "For what it's worth, he was emotionally raw. He watched his best friend die and then found out that one of his other friends had not only seen it happen but had elected not to tell him."

You didn't respond. Chuuya sighed, then leaned across you to grab the clothes he'd picked out.

"Try this on," he said, pushing the fabric into your hands, then looking at you expectantly. He didn't move, and you realized he wasn't actually planning on leaving the room before you changed.

"...In front of you?" you asked, just to clarify.

"Yeah...? It's not like you haven't before," he said simply. He shrugged.

"Well- I don't remember all that," you reminded him, hoping you didn't look too flustered by his words.

"Oh, shit, yeah. Obviously," he muttered, then stood. "Sorry. It's sort of easy to forget, I guess. If you need help or anything let me know, okay?" he said, then ducked out the door. Once the door latched shut behind him, you narrowed your eyes at the wood, as if it'd let you see through it.

You were beginning to grow... suspicious of Chuuya, for lack of a better word. He had a key to your apartment. He was very touchy with you- something you hadn't noted in any other relationship he held other than Ryuunosuke, and even the nature of that touch was wildly different from what he gave you- and there was something else there you couldn't put your finger on. A fondness he held for you that he desperately did not want you to see. (It was clear as day in his eyes.)