how episode 10 SHOULD have gone...

Hi!

Dazai tried to suppress a yawn. 

It didn't work. 

He only succeeded in making it bigger, small tears formed at the corners of his eye. Bored, he glanced to the side of him, studying the curious metal cuffs holding his arms in place against the wall. Dazai gently explored the inside of his tender cheek, wondering how long it's been since Awktagawa had delivered his measly punch. Well, he shouldn't say measly. It would bruise badly for sure. Dazai had grown rather impressed with his former subordinate, though he would never say so out loud. He studied the bloodstained stone, reminiscing of all the times he'd been down here. Not in chains that is. Isn't it fitting that he should be held in the same room he'd tortured in all those years ago? The former executive stifled yet another yawn. He really ought to listen to Yosano about going to sleep earlier, but god damn Chuuya was taking forever.

"Plotting as usual?" The manifested voice of a certain shortie came from the top of the stairs.

Dazai was no longer tired. He straightened his back with glee as Chuuya made his way down the steps in slow motion.

"I have no idea what you're talking about." Dazai grinned, making a point of looking down at the little red head.

"Don't you?" Chuuya pursed his lips pretending to think, "You know... I am your former partner after all, so out with it!"

Chuuya grabbed Dazai's messy hair, his scalp tingling with the mistreatment.

Dazai glared at the redhead, who in turn growled. "What's your play here?"

The two held agonizing eye contact, god why must he look so adorable? Chuuya had obviously been going for something more terrifying, but Dazai had to bite back a laugh when he noticed him up on his tippy toes. Chuuya had used his ability to push Dazai's body up, so that his feet were dangling, knuckles wrapped in the dirty material of his shirt.

Suddenly, Dazai very much wanted to kiss him.

"I missed you," The brown haired prisoner murmured softly.

Chuuya frowned at him, slightly angling his head to point out they were on camera. The shorter let Dazai fall, his arms yanked up by the force of the chains once more. When he looked up, the dim candlelight fell on his face. It reveals a smirk, and the forming bruise from Awktagawa that Chuuya narrows his eyes at.

"You know, I always wondered where you get your tacky hats," Dazai quipped, resuming their fake banter.

"Say what you want about my hats, I'm not the one cuffed to a wall." Chuuya turned around to pull on a pair of familiar black gloves. "Speaking of which, there's no way the Demon Prodigy just happened to be snagged on the streets, I'll give you one more chance Dazai... What's your plan?"

"Well what does it look like?" Dazai closed his eyes, leaning back, "We haven't seen each other for four years, and that's too long, don't you think Chuuya-kun? I just wanted to pop by, and see how a certain partner has grown over those years." Dazai narrowed his eyes playfully, the corners of his mouth twitching into a grin, "But I'm a little disappointed to see he still relies on his ugly hats to give him the illusion of being a few inches taller."

He expected the fist, but Chuuya's speed still surprised him. Dazai coughed, small droplets of blood falling onto the already stained floor. Dazai had felt a few ribs crack, it was nothing he couldn't take. But Chuuya hesitated, his eyes widening at the fact that he'd actually hurt him. But the brown haired man nodded a bit to encourage him, they weren't going to sell this act unless Chuuya beat him up a little bit. Four more. That's what they agreed on, five hits was all it would take. Chuuya sent another fist flying at his jaw although it was significantly less powerful than the first. Black gloved hands roughly grabbed his trench coat, yanking him in to deliver a knee to the gut. Then two more to the face and chest, Chuuya took a step back breathing heavily.