Surprise Night Visit

Epilogue: The Past Haunts The Present

It had been years since that night. Four, to be exact. Chuuya couldn't say much had changed in the grand scheme of things. He was still in the Port Mafia, still the same fiery, unpredictable executive he'd always been, and Dazai was still... well, Dazai. The same smug, infuriating, insufferable idiot who had managed to worm his way into Chuuya's life despite every intention to keep him out. But he was more...childish. And he was in the Armed Detective Agency.

But now, at twenty-two, things were different. The tension between them had shifted. They were both older, more experienced, and—if Chuuya were being completely honest with himself—just a little more complicated.

The world they navigated had only grown more dangerous as time passed, and they were both caught in the crossfire of a bitter war between their two organizations. But that didn't stop Dazai from showing up at his apartment, like he always did when things got messy.

The knock on the door was light but persistent. It wasn't like Chuuya had been expecting anyone. But he knew who it was the moment he heard it.

"Dazai," he muttered to himself, annoyed already. It was late, and he hadn't been in the mood for company, especially not his company. The last thing he needed was some cryptic, half-hearted excuse about why Dazai was standing on his doorstep. But what could he do? He opened the door anyway.

There he was. As annoying as ever. Dazai stood in the hallway, hands shoved casually into his pockets, his dark hair a little longer now, the familiar disheveled look still clinging to him. He wasn't wearing his usual suit; instead, he had on a black jacket and a simple shirt, looking far more casual than he ever had when they were in the Mafia together. He still carried that same arrogant confidence, but now there was a noticeable shift in his demeanor—a more immature edge to him.

"Chuuya," Dazai greeted him with that same infuriating, smug grin. He didn't even wait to be invited inside. As usual, he just waltzed in like he owned the place, stepping across the threshold with the kind of ease only he could manage.

Chuuya sighed, feeling his frustration well up already. "What the hell are you doing here, Dazai? I didn't think you'd be the type to show up uninvited after everything."

"Ah, well," Dazai said, his voice dipping into something more playful, though with a hint of underlying sincerity. "You know me, I can't resist dropping by when I'm in the neighborhood. And besides, you *did* say I could come back anytime."

"That was before you kissed me in my penthouse and acted like nothing happened," Chuuya snapped, not caring that his irritation was becoming more obvious. "So, what do you want? You here to bother me with more of your philosophy bullshit or—"

Dazai raised a hand to interrupt, his eyes glimmering with that same enigmatic gleam that used to get under Chuuya's skin. "No, no. Nothing like that, Chuuya. I was actually thinking about the last time I was here. You remember, don't you?"

Chuuya's expression faltered for the briefest second, but it was enough for Dazai to notice. "Ah, yes, that night," Dazai continued, his voice light and teasing. "I still remember it so clearly. You kicked me out after I kissed you in your penthouse. I think that was the first time you—"

"Don't you dare finish that sentence," Chuuya interrupted, his voice dangerously low. The heat in his chest spread out, making his face flush. He wasn't sure what pissed him off more—Dazai's ability to bring up that damn kiss so easily, or the way it still made his heart race when he least expected it.

He hadn't been able to forget that night, no matter how many years had passed. The way Dazai's lips had felt against his, soft but lingering, leaving him with the strangest, most confusing feeling afterward. It had been nothing like what he'd expected—nothing like what he'd been prepared for. And he hated that.

But even worse, he hated how much it had messed with his head.

Dazai noticed the shift in Chuuya's demeanor, the way his lips pressed into a thin line and his eyes narrowed. He didn't back off, though. Instead, he stepped closer, as though daring Chuuya to react.

"Chuuya," Dazai murmured, his voice low and almost conspiratorial, "that kiss—it wasn't just something random. You didn't just kick me out because you were mad. You kicked me out because you didn't know what to do with the fact that it meant something."

Chuuya could feel his pulse quicken at Dazai's words, his anger bubbling up to the surface again. He clenched his fists, his jaw tightening.

"No. Don't," he snapped. "I don't need to hear this crap from you again. You're not going to come in here and act like we're some kind of... I don't even know what you think we are, Dazai. But it's not happening."

Dazai's smile faded, just slightly. He looked at Chuuya, his dark eyes searching his face as if he were trying to decipher something unspoken. There was a flicker of uncertainty there, but it was gone in a heartbeat, replaced by his usual smug composure.

"Well, if you say so," he said, his tone light but with an undertone of something else. "I guess that's it then." He looked like he was about to turn and leave, but then, with a suddenness that caught Chuuya off guard, Dazai took a step forward.

Before Chuuya could react, Dazai cupped his face again, his fingers light against Chuuya's skin, and in a move that had Chuuya's heart skipping a beat, Dazai kissed him again.

It wasn't rough, it wasn't demanding—just a brief, soft press of lips against his, warm and fleeting. But it was enough to throw Chuuya completely off balance. He didn't know if it was the familiarity of the feeling, or the shock of it happening again, but all of a sudden, he was caught in that damn kiss—again.

He pulled away almost immediately, his hands instinctively pushing Dazai back."Get. Out." Chuuya's voice was firm this time, though it was laced with something deeper—something he couldn't quite name. His pulse was racing, his thoughts scattered. "Now."

Dazai raised an eyebrow, his lips still curved in that maddeningly knowing smile. "I thought you said you'd kicked me out the last time. This time, I'm not sure I'm gonna leave so easily."

"I'm not playing this game with you again," Chuuya growled, his fists clenched at his sides. His voice was barely above a whisper, but the weight of his words made the air feel thick. "I'm not some damn fool who's gonna let you come in here and mess with my head."

Dazai's gaze softened, almost imperceptibly. "I never wanted to mess with your head, Chuuya. I just wanted you to know that... things are different now. And maybe, just maybe, I don't want to keep running."

Chuuya's heart was pounding in his chest, his breath shallow, as his emotions swirled into a storm. But he couldn't let it show. He wouldn't let it. He wasn't going to fall into this trap again."Leave. Now, Dazai," he spat, his voice cracking slightly, though he refused to show any weakness.

Dazai didn't protest. He didn't try to say anything else. Instead, he turned away and walked toward the door, his back to Chuuya as he reached for the handle.

But just before he stepped outside, Dazai turned his head slightly, his voice quiet, like the words had been stuck in his throat for far too long.

"I'll always be here, Chuuya," he said softly, almost as if it were a promise. "Whenever you're ready to admit it."

Chuuya didn't answer. He just slammed the door shut behind him.

The silence that followed was deafening.

Chuuya stood there, his breath ragged, his mind spinning. He hadn't known what to expect when Dazai showed up, but this? This was something else entirely. And he hated it. Hated how Dazai always seemed to know exactly what buttons to press, what walls to tear down.

But Chuuya was used to running, too. Running away from things he couldn't control.

Even if, for just a moment, he wanted to stay.