Etched Your Name Into Me

Chapter One

Chuuya's temple throbbed. It's uncomfortable, to say the least, like someone taking a hammer and beating the inside of his skull over and over. It had been a whole year since Dazai left the Port Mafia. Chuuya had opened a bottle of wine in 'celebration' the night he left, a bottle of his favourite brand, and he drank that same brand right now. What he would never be able to admit aloud to anyone, was that he only drank this wine when he was upset. He drank the same wine when his six friends, The Flags, were killed by Verlaine.. Dazai still crossed his mind all the time, still set on figuring out what went wrong between them, and why. He didn't know exactly what he felt towards the suicidal punk. But one thing he did know, he had grown attached to him while working beside him. Why? He didn't know exactly himself, but perhaps it was because he felt that they had a connection. One that any normal person wouldn't understand, but aside from being the strongest pair in history, Dazai understood him better than anyone else, it was nice to feel understood by at least one person. They were partners in crime, the 'Double Black'. And then suddenly Dazai left, he didn't even say goodbye. Not that Chuuya would have expected one, but still...

What's the point anyway?

Chuuya took a large sip of his wine before lifting his shaky arm up and smashing the glass on the floor. He should hate that son of a bitch. He shouldn't care even the slightest. All they did was bicker everyday, they hated each other! Although... There were moments where they had understood each other better than anyone else.

Like all the times Dazai attempted suicide, Chuuya would stitch and wrap his wounds. He couldn't count on his hands the amount of times he had to perform CPR on Dazai. Nights like those scared the shit out of him. He may wish Dazai would drop dead often, but those nights always brought him back to reality. Chuuya's heart ached seeing his partner like that, and since Dazai left the mafia, Chuuya's paranoia that Dazai would commit suicide and succeed had heightened. It's not that Chuuya wasn't capable of working or living without Dazai around, in fact, Mori was surprised with how well Chuuya had worked, he didn't know what his feelings were towards Dazai. No one really understood their feelings towards each other.

There were also times Dazai helped Chuuya. He made Chuuya feel human, even when in doubt that he wasn't. He sacrificed all of Yokohama just to prove the fact Chuuya was in fact, a living and breathing being. Of course Dazai saved Chuuya from death multiple times, although his near death moments were caused by corruption, and being caught off guard (not that it would happen often), not attempting to take his own life.

Chuuya still remembered every memory of him. The way he would tease him for being short, god he hated him for that. The way he would dress, in a suit and coat that always smelt of alcohol and sweat. The way they fought, insulting each other and then ignoring one another for the rest of the week until they came back together, only to repeat the same process. It was a routine that Chuuya got used to over the years.

Chuuya stood up, stepping over the shattered glass and making his way towards the cabinet to grab another, he often let his anger take control, and it was worse when he drank, but tonight he needed to drink, to keep his sanity to say the least. He'd been alone, closed off, refusing to get close to anyone again. He was lucky to have Ane-san, although she disliked Dazai, to put it lightly. Even if he hated every part of the idiot, a piece of him was dead without the bastard.

That suicidal maniac had etched his way into Chuuya's soul and no matter how hard he tried, he wasn't leaving anytime soon.

Chuuya felt the vibrations of his phone in the back pocket of his pants. There was no way in hell he was going to talk to anyone tonight, not in this state, he simply let it ring through, anyone who knew him well or was close enough to him knew that Chuuya would only pick up the phone at this time of night if they rang twice, cause then he knew it was an emergency. Anyone from the mafia should also know not to be calling him on a night like this, he warned everyone beforehand that he was drinking, and absolutely no one would want to be around Chuuya when he was in a bad mood and drunk. Then his phone rang again. Perhaps it was an emergency? His heart rate spiked up slightly, if the Mafia was calling him this late at night because of an emergency, Chuuya was gonna have to find a way to quickly sober up. He took his phone out of the back of his pocket and looked at the screen, his eyes widened at the name of who was calling him. None other than the son of a bitch himself. Dazai Osamu. Chuuya didn't know how to react, he stared at his phone in disbelief, what could he possibly want from him? He leaves for one year and now just suddenly calls? Asshole was probably playing mind tricks with him to get him riled up. Chuuya decided he wouldn't give in that easily, that prick doesn't deserve any of his attention. He threw his phone on his bed and sat down, taking a long sip of his wine before putting it down and burying his face in his hands.

What if he was in danger? What if he needed help? No. He didn't deserve Chuuya's help. He'd abandoned him, why should Chuuya help? Although when the phone rang for a third time, Chuuya gave in, picking it up and putting it to his ear in frustration.

"What the hell do you want?" Chuuya growled into the speaker, his words had slurred a little from how much he had already drank (in reality, he was just a major lightweight, he was only on his third glass of wine).

"Chuuya," Dazai said, if Chuuya wasn't mistaken, it sounded like Dazai had been drinking as well, "How are you?"

Chuuya's face scrunched up in anger, this asshole abandons him for a year and thinks it's okay to call him out of the blue and ask how he is?!

Chuuya was about to scream at him through the phone, but Dazai suddenly spoke up again.

"I need your help."

Chuuya suddenly feels a panic rise inside of him, what the hell did the idiot mean by that? Did he attempt again? Was he in danger with an enemy? He waited for Dazai to elaborate but the other end of the call was dead silent now. Chuuya didn't know what to say, or how to feel, but something inside him was screaming at him to help. He had stayed quiet for a minute or two, contemplating what he should do. His head was spiralling.

He couldn't think properly with the amount of alcohol he had already consumed, and Dazai was already on his mind tonight, this couldn't have been a coincidence, Dazai definitely had to be mocking him in some way. But if he wasn't, and Dazai was on his deathbed, no one would even know. From what Chuuya has heard, Dazai disappeared from the face of the world when Oda Sakunosuke died, clearing his crimes from his name and anything to do with the mafia along with them, now working for a special agency for gifted detectives called the Armed Detective Agency. Chuuya doubts his coworkers would know about Dazai's tendencies.

"Where are you?" Chuuya asked, his voice was still stern and angry, but had a hint of softness this time.

"I'll send you the address."