You're my Dog in Life and Death

The Devil You Know

"Chuu~ya~"

"Agh, what the fuck!" Chuuya exclaimed as he was startled awake by Dazai, who was messing with his ears. He swatted the mackerel's hand away, glaring at him as he tried to get his bearings. His head was pounding and his throat felt dry; a sure sign of a hangover. 

"What, I can't pet my dog?" Dazai asked in mock innocence, reaching out to pat Chuuya's head again. He just glared, but allowed it to happen. As much as he wanted to deny it, he missed these little interactions, and he knew from experience that it would be over faster if he just let it happen. 

"So, how did you die, and why the heaven didn't you call me as soon as you did?" Dazai continued in a light manner, but Chuuya knew him well enough to detect the tinge of irritation in his voice. 

"I got my throat slit when I was sleeping," Chuuya admitted reluctantly, sinking back down onto the couch and closing his eyes. Even the dim light of the room was making his hangover worse. "By Gin Akutagawa."

"Wow! What a pathetic way to die!" Dazai said in an annoyingly cheerful voice.

"Shut up, you literally jumped of a building. I'm still mad at you for that, you know." Chuuya growled, opening one eye to glare at Dazai. Like every other sinner he'd seen, Dazai's appearance had changed, but not drastically so. Half of his face was still covered in bandages, but his visible eye had turned black with a bright red iris. He also noticed that his partner had goatlike ears and hooves, much like a classic depiction of a demon. 

"I had my reasons, and before you ask, I won't tell you them."

"Of course not," Chuuya muttered, closing his eyes. He wanted to yell at Dazai for leaving him; tell him how hard it had been trying to lead the Port Mafia without him, how hard everything had been really, but he didn't want to start a shouting match now when he had a massive hangover. Instead, he settled for a question. "What have you been doing these past five years? What do you do once you're dead?" 

"Well, I've backstabbed, betrayed, and manipulated whoever I needed to to gain power. I rose up to become a crime boss, and then an overlord. It wasn't hard; I didn't have to work around anyone's morality bullshit. Everyone here is just out for themselves, so they're easy to manipulate."

"Sounds like nothing changed..."

"False. I don't have to feel bad because everyone here sucks! "

"As if you even have a conscience," Chuuya muttered with a smirk.

"You're so mean~" Dazai whined, reaching out and trying to scratch behind Chuuya's ears. He slapped his hand away with an annoyed grunt. "By the way, you need to be careful around here. That drink you had earlier; its love potion. Mothman and the Instagram Bitch make it, and it's real powerful stuff. It's mainly used to make your target weak and submissive so that you can fuck them."

"Anything else I need to know about?" Chuuya groaned, wanting to move away from the topic. 

"You're not in Yokohama anymore. Everyone here is loud, violent, and really, really horny. You have to watch your back, because you never know when someone is going to try and pick your pocket or grope you. Avoid dark alleys, dingy sex clubs, and anywhere shady in general and you should be fine."

"Noted. Now can you shut the fuck up? I have a headache." Chuuya mumbled, turning over on the couch. Dazai saw that as the perfect opportunity to pull his tail. 

"Ow, quit it, jackass! I take it back; I didn't miss you!" 

Dazai paused, looking at Chuuya with a softer look. "You never said you missed me..." 

"Shut up!" Chuuya snapped, blushing with embarrassment. "Now just leave me alone for five minutes at least!" 

Dazai got up to leave, but right before he shut the door he glanced back at Chuuya with a sad smile. 

Despite his fatigue, Chuuya couldn't lay still. He kept tossing and turning, overanalyzing his brief interaction with Dazai. Even after five years, it still felt like he'd never really left; they hadn't skipped a beat and went straight to their usual bickering. He almost felt sad that Dazai hadn't even acknowledged what he'd put him through: all those long, lonely days and sleepless nights after his suicide, how he hadn't even said goodbye... He didn't know if he would ever be able to forgive the bastard, and then there was his contract-

Dazai burst back into the room without knocking(as per usual) and made a spot for himself on the couch when there wasn't one. 

"Got you some water," He said, shoving the glass in Chuuya's face. He always made sure Chuuya took care of himself after a wild night; it was one of the small things that he had taken for granted when Dazai was alive. Chuuya took a sip of the water, nodding his thanks as he searched his expression for some clue to how he was feeling; to little avail. 

"You're doing your stupid mackerel face again," Chuuya grumbled, referring to the blank stare Dazai gave when he was trying to hide his emotions. 

"You're just grumpy because you turned into a furry. Don't worry, I still love you~" 

"Argh, I'm not a furry; just shut up about it! Besides, you- LET GO OF ME YOU FUCKER!!!!" Chuuya yelled, jumping up and yanking his tail out of Dazai's hand. "I'm going to chop this thing off the first chance I get!" Chuuya said angrily, glaring at Dazai as the other smirked back at him. 

"It'll just grow back~ I tried cutting off my own tail, but it's no good."

"Fuck me!" 

"Later. Right now you need to chill the fuck out and get some sleep. You'll feel better in the morning." 

Chuuya chucked his half empty cup of water at the wall at full force. The glass made an extremely satisfying sound as it smashed. "Like hell I will; I'm in bloody hell! -Hey, stop laughing!" 

"Sorry; I just missed your feisty little personality! So much anger in such a small package~"

"Is it my eternal punishment to be stuck with you? I swear, one more word out of you and you're dead!" 

"We're already in hell, you silly~" Dazai said, his voice dripping with sarcasm. 

Chuuya took a deep breath, holding back the angry words he wanted to shout at his partner. "Dazai, I'm seriously sick of your bullshit. Please leave." 

"Only because you asked nicely," Dazai said, standing up and stretching, "but don't forget that you're still my dog, and you ultimately answer to me." Dazai closed the door, leaving Chuuya alone again. 

Once Dazai's footsteps faded far enough away, Chuuya finally allowed himself to break down.

"That fucking piece of shit!!!" He screamed, overturning the coffee table and chucking a chair across the room. "I'll" smash, "Fucking" thud, "Make" clang,  "Him" crack, "Pay!!!!" Chuuya yelled, each word punctuated by the sound of breaking glass and splintering wood as Chuuya reduced everything on the shelves to a broken mess. Once there was nothing left to break, he just stood above the wreckage, panting from exertion. His head was pounding even worse and his hands were bleeding from the shards of porcelain lodged in them, but damn he felt better. He lifted the couch back up and laid down, picking out the pieces of glass one by one. He was too exhausted to care that his cuts immediately stopped bleeding and disappeared within moments. 

What has my life- or rather afterlife, come to? Chuuya thought miserably as he stared at the ceiling. He couldn't stop thinking about Dazai despite his best efforts, and he couldn't fall back asleep with his pounding headache. All the walls he'd built up in his mind had come crumbling down as soon as that idiot, his idiot, had given him that welcoming smile. I still hate him though. He left me, and then used my loneliness to trick me into making a deal with him. Why the hell do I still need him then? It's been five years; shouldn't that be enough time to get over this? Why can't I let go of the past and just let myself hate him?