Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Dark hallways stretched out in front of him. The dim lighting making his already fatigued self want to fall asleep right there and then despite the uninviting cold floors. He sighed. This certainly wasn't the line of thought he should be having right before being assigned a mission.

The endless hallways finally led to a large door, gunmen guarding it. A spark of recognition flashed in their eyes and they let the redhead enter without any questions.

He could see his boss looking rather cheery and his partner, Dazai, sitting opposite of him and giving him a deep frown. He assumed Elise was somewhere near, coloring or whatever she usually does. He didn't mind her absence though. He never especially liked the girl (ability? He's not sure what he should refer to her as).

The moment he spotted Dazai, he knew this would be a tiring mission. Every single mission with him was. However, he didn't complain nor groan (it took a lot of self restraint) and sat next to his partner.

"Hello Chuuya-kun! Now that you're both present, I suppose I'll start explaining what you need to do." Both teens straightened at that.

"This will be a long-term mission that will take place in France, Paris." He didn't have time to finish before he got interrupted by a loud noise of confusion. "HUH? Paris?"

"I believe that's what I said, Chuuya-kun." Said boy chewed on his lip and remained silent. He had never been outside Japan (if he had, he didn't remember it) and he was pretty sure Dazai hadn't either. How were they supposed to go there for an indefinite amount of time with each other? They would have probably already killed each other by the end of the mission.

"The mayor of Paris has offered us a great sum of money in exchange for our best employees to protect his daughter, Chloe Bourgeois, from the french mafia she is apparently a target to, including anyone shady that's not a part of the mafia. You will pose as natives. Additionally, everything you need to know about is in these files; location of your apartment, the teenagers you will be playing as and the address of your school. The mission will last approximately 9 to 10 months. Oh and, of course, if you succeed in this mission, you're garantied to receive an executive position. Now, I know it will be hard for you to adjust but I trust you will be able to finish this mission with success. You have two days to pack up everything you need. You will be going by plane, all expenses covered by Paris's lovely mayor, and you will be given the keys to your hotel room once you arrive. You can take the next two days off to prepare if you wish. Good luck and au revoir!"

The boys wasted no time to exit the room. As they were walking down the long hallways of the port mafia's building, they engaged in casual banter. "I can't believe I'll have to go abroad with you of all people." Chuuya groaned and put his hands in his pockets. "For your information, I'm not delighted about this either." He sighed.

When they reached the exit, they paused. "I'm gonna head to my apartment, I need to pack." Chuuya looked down at his (extremely expensive) watch for the time. "Yeah me too." His partner replied. "If only you could call that rusty shipping container an apartment..." Dazai gasped. "I assure you it is in perfect condition and quite comfortable to live in." The brunette was of course lying; the dirt on the walls was visible, he hadn't made any move to clean it ever since he started living there and the only pieces of furniture in the container were an uncomfortable bed, a bathroom and a small table with a lamb and a chair. He had a suspicion Chuuya knew he was lying too. However, none of them pointed out anything and instead chose to start walking on opposite ways.

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

The two days they were given to prepare flew by quickly. Way too quickly to Chuuya's liking.

He found himself boarding on a plane alongside his partner who wouldn't stop whining. "Chuuyaaaa~ the engines are hurting my ears" "Well, you should have brought some noise canceling headphones. There's no way in hell I give you mine." The brunette groaned and slumped in his seat.

The mayor had arranged for them to get first class seats. There were six seats in each row, three on one side and three on the other. Thankfully, there was no one seating next to the duo so they had three seats entirely to themselves. Dazai had taken the inside row seat claiming he got dizzy easily while Chuuya had the middle seat.

The flight was mostly uneventful despite Dazai becoming a shade paler than he usually is during  take off. Chuuya gave him his hand and Dazai squeezed it until they were finally stable in the air. Chuuya didn't tease him because he wasn't evil like that, making fun of Dazai for a fear of his and like an unspoken promise, no party of the double black mentioned anything about it.

During the car ride to the hotel (the mayor had sent a driver to pick them up) Chuuya was quite tired and extremely jetlagged so he closed his eyes and let himself fall into dreamless slumber. Meanwhile, Dazai was staring out the window into the, so called, city of love. He couldn't deny it, Paris was quite spectacular and very different from Yokohama. Plus, he got to leave Japan after God knows how long so his standards were low in the first place, that being said, Paris was definitely one of the nicest options.

Once they arrived, Dazai started poking Chuuya repeatedly in the cheek. "Chuu-yaa! Come on, get up!" Chuuya groaned and reluctantly opened his eyes but, oh wow. The hotel was bigger than any buildings he's ever lived in but he doubted it was more luxurious than his current apartment back in Yokohama.

"Ah, hello there!" The mayor greeted them at the entrance. "I hope you had a wonderful flight! Come in, you must be tired."

The two boys entered the hotel and Chuuya couldn't help but admire the lobby. "This is my daughter, Chloe. Honey, how about you show them their room?"

Chloe was less than delighted to guide them to their room, that was a job for butlers anyway but she felt kind of nervous. She knew the two boys were meant to protect her since she somehow became a target to a mafia so she couldn't afford to make them dislike her. Even if it physically pained her to act sickly sweet and guide them like a lowly nobody.

"It's this way." She moved towards the elevator and press the botton to her floor. Daddy had told her they would live in the room right next to hers so they could reach her faster in case of an emergency.

To say the ride up was awkward was an understatement. Chloe decided to break the ice with a simple question such as "So, what are your names?"

"I'm Dazai Osamu." He smiled and shook her hand. Chuuya followed his lead and introduced himself as well "Chuuya Nakahara."

"Ah, I was about to forget, silly me. We won't have the same names. You can call me Marc."

"Just call me Nathaniel." Chuuya was sure Dazai hadn't forgotten. He probably wanted Chloe to know their actual names in case something happened.

"Well, your room is over there and here are your keys." She pointed at the door next to hers and handed them the keys. "If you need anything let my butler know." She quickly entered her room and slammed the door. Jeez, who knew being nice was so hard?

Back outside, the two boys shared their thoughts about the girl. "Well she's just lovely." Chuuya rolled his eyes. "You can tell she was forcing herself."

"Easy there slug, we just met her. It was to be expected for her to be spoiled, she's the mayor's daughter after all. Plus, she could've been way worse, at least she was trying to be nicer."

Chuuya raised an eyebrow at Dazai defending her. "Don't you dare ask her on a double suicide, ya hear me?"

"No promises!" Dazai chuckled and opened the door to their room. After exploring for a little while, Chuuya came to a conclusion; it was quite big for an hotel room slash apartment.

There was a bedroom with separate beds and some space for them to put their stuff. The kitchen was decently sized with all the essential electronics and in the bathroom were neatly folded towels and a shower. Chuuya also noticed a cabinet just above the mirror, he could put his makeup supplies there (they were nothing much, just a concealer, some mascara, eyeliner and eyeshadow. He had picked up the habit of doing makeup in the morning or before an important event after Ane-san showed him how).

"Now that we're roommates, we'll have to set some ground rules." Chuuya raised his finger and wiggled it to emphasize. "No stealing my things such us makeup and my wine."

"Well, then you bring bandages for me whenever I ask you to!" Dazai exclaimed and pushed his finger to Chuuya's chest.

"That's not a rule you idiot! That's just you being lazy about getting up and buying what you want!"

They quarreled back on forth until Chuuya felt exhausted and just agreed to his partner's terms. His jetlagged self fell asleep in the same place he was sitting soon after. Dazai didn't know if he should be amazed or annoyed by his partner's ability to fall asleep wherever and whenever.

What he does know is that he would love to have that ability just for today as tomorrow was their first day of school despite it being the middle of the semester.

He tucked Chuuya in bed and after about an hour of reading his beloved book, he fell asleep too. After all, tomorrow they would both experience what it's like to be an average teenager.

Chapter Text

Chuuya woke up to bright light shining directly in his eyes. He groaned loudly and pushed himself to the opposite side of the bed. "Wake up sleeping beauty! We have school!" Dazai attempted to pull the blanket off him but the redhead just pulled it back on and over his head.

Dazai sighed and grabbed Chuuya's arm that was hanging off the bed and dragged him out of the makeshift cocoon. He met the ground with a loud thud and he glared daggers at the brunette who was trying—and failing—to conceal his laugh behind his palm.

He slowly stood up and started stretching. He didn't quite know what to expect from that day. He had never been to school and if he has, he doesn't remember.

He wasn't completely uneducated though, he knew how to read and write—although writing in French was a whole other problem. Dazai for some reason unknown to him, was practically fluent in French. Meanwhile, Chuuya had started French lessons a while back. French came easy to him but he certainly wasn't at an acceptable high school level yet, he could even solve some math problems and equations!

He had watched some American highschool movies when he was alone in his apartment and to be frank, his image of highschool wasn't the best, to say the least. Those mean girls in the movies pissed him off and so did the jocks. He truly hoped French schools weren't like that.

As far as he knew, Dazai hadn't been to school either. He had been homeschooled his whole life due to his father's fame and money.

His parents wouldn't stand watching their son going to a public school and with the people they deemed as lowlifes, they thought it was better to homeschool him. He was never really fond of people, especially people his age. They were childish and always created problems for no apparent reason. Needless to say, he was less than pleased to go to high school in a whole different continent.

.

.

Chuuya took a quick shower, brushed his hair and teeth and was ready to go. Meanwhile, Dazai simply threw on his assigned outfit and replaced his eye bandage. Unfortunately for him, Mori had permitted him from being wrapped in bandages from head to toe as it might arise suspicion but he simply wouldn't let go off the eye bandage and the ones on his arm.

"Ready to go?" Chuuya asked as he used his ability to make an apple float straight in his hand from the fruit bowl in the middle of the kitchen table and bit into it with a satisfying crunch. "Yep" he replied, popping the "p" and they were on their way for their first day of highschool.

.

.

By the time they made it to school, most students had yet to arrive. Chuuya's hands shook slightly, it wasn't noticable for any others but Dazai was so used to observing his partner that his eyes immediately caught the movement.

He was about to open his mouth and tease the redhead but the redhead as if sensing it, buried his hands into his pockets immediately. Dazai then received a glare and an "If you say anything, I swear I'm going to choke you to death." So, Dazai decided not to push, even though the suggestion didn't seem completely unappealing.

They swiftly made their way to the principal's office where they were meant to receive their schedules from. They were met with a man not much older than 60, with gray hair and a long beard. He was as much as you'd expect from a highschool headmaster.

"Hello there! You must be the new students. I'm mister Damocles, your headmaster. If you have any questions you can come to me at all times, just remember to knock!" He finished with a kind smile. Dazai returned the expression while Chuuya's remained a neutral one. "Uhm hi! My name is Mark and this is Nathaniel... But you uh pro-probably already know that..." Dazai awkwardly scratched the back of his neck.

Chuuya had to bite down a snort but he couldn't help the smirk that slowly but surely widened. He completely forgot they weren't going as their normal selves—he was under great pressure so sue him! That was the whole point of the undercover mission, to be under cover. Acting like they usually do would certainly arise suspicion.

So, Chuuya hunched his shoulders to look as small and as scared as possible without overdoing it and making it seem too fake. Hunching was something he'd always been told not to do by Ane-san. According to her, as a mafia member, he had to show superiority and confidence and his posture, apparently, played a huge role in that.

The principal handed them two sheets of paper with the label "SCHEDULE" on them. "This is the schedule you will have for the rest of the year, you can take a look."

The two teens did as told and schemed the page. Chuuya sighed deeply. He truly didn't like the lessons in their current schedule. Chemistry? Biology? Literature? Since when was literature a lesson taught at school?!

Meanwhile, he caught Dazai licking his lips and frowning while glancing boredly at the paper in his hands. That lazy bastard. He probably thought the lessons were "too easy" or something along those lines, the ginger was sure of it.

Their reading was interrupted by a few knocks on the door.  "I summoned two classmates of yours to show you around." Mr Damocles elaborated. "Come in." He said in a louder tone, loud enough to be heard from outside that thick door at least.

Two girls who seemed like polar opposites stepped in. The first girl was fairly tall and slim. Her long black hair with purple strands flowed down her back graciously. Chuuya took notice of how Dazai's eyes travelled to the way her bangs covered one of her eyes, something these two had in common, he noted with a smug smile.

Her clothes were comfortable and baggy with different shades of grey and purple, mostly darker shades though. She wore very little jewelry and her expression remained neutral. Now, Chuuya wouldn't label himself as someone perceptive, quite the opposite actually. Despite his struggles to understand a person's character by only observing their posture and appearance, he could tell the girl was insecure about herself.

Meanwhile, the girl that stood next to her had short, blonde hair that looked like a boy's haircut in Dazai's humble opinion. Her frame was rather short or perhaps the other girl was just tall enough for their height difference to be noticeable.

Nonetheless, Chuuya wouldn't feel so bad about his tiny self with a girl that had almost the same height as him, Dazai thought to himself cheekily and tried to not break into a grin.

The blondie's eyes were a light blue and she wore a cheerful expression. Chuuya almost scoffed. His distaste for overly happy and energetic people knows no bounds. Seriously, where did they find all that energy to remain positive?

"Hi! My name is Rose and this is Juleka!" She beamed, the exclamation mark practically heard and the girl who was apparently named Juleka raised her hand to give her own awkward greeting. "Hi..."

Rose quickly led the two teenager out the office. "What are your names?" She smiled warmly at them. "I-I'm Mark and he's Nathaniel." Dazai replied for the both of them. Chuuya doesn't know what exactly annoyed him, perhaps it was the way Dazai took the initiative to introduce both of them, making Chuuya seem like a helpless puppy or maybe the fact that Dazai didn't trust Chuuya or rather his acting skills to put up a shy font.

A scowl was evident on his face but he immediately schooled his expression. His acting skills were much better than the bastard's and he knew how to handle himself in situations such as this, thank you very much.

.

.

The tour around the school had been rather rushed considering how they were given until the bell rang to tour them throughout a decently large school. Dazai made sure to memorize everything in case of an emergency. Chuuya was confident he would remember some rooms—the most important ones at the very least.

At first glance, it didn't look like the girls were friends, probably aquintances at best. However, it didn't go unnoticed how Juleka would eye the blond girl with a sort of adoration and how her cheeks turned a faint rosy color when Rose made eye contact or discreetly intertwined their hands together. Chuuya didn't pay it any mind, it didn't matter to him at all.

"What class are you guys in?" Asked Juleka who, so far, had barely said anything, letting Rose lead the tour instead and settling a few steps behind her.

Dazai glanced at his schedule despite already knowing his class. "We're both in B1."

"That's awesome we're in the same class!" Rose exclaimed excitedly. 'Great' Chuuya thought sarcasticly. He wondered if all his classmates were equally energetic.

The bell suddenly wrung, pulling them out of their conversation. The halls immediately filled with students heading to their respective classrooms.

Chuuya, despite not wanting to admit to this, was suddenly overwhelmed by the blur of colors and noises. Back in his time with the sheep, he never found himself in situations where he was stuck in crowded places. After all, the slums weren't the most welcoming areas.

Needless to say, during his very first port mafia party, that hadn't been too long ago, he was forced to attend with Dazai which was already an indicator of how horrible things would go but he had also severely underestimated the amount of people that would be attending.

Somewhere in the middle of the party (it shouldn't even be called that, in Chuuya's opinion. All they did was drink and immerse themselves in business conversations), all the voices and the instrumental music became background noise as Chuuya went stiff and then started trembling.

Dazai who was completely uninterested in the party and was contemplating falling off the second story of the building, was paying extra attention to his partner as a last resort to cure his boredom and therefore noticed immediately. Chuuya was then swiftly escorted to the closest balcony by the brunette so he could calm himself down.

The ginger mostly kept that particular thought at the back of his head as it aroused certain feelings he didn't want to identify such as a blossoming warmness in his chest and a blush on his cheeks.

What brought him back to the present was a tired sigh before  long, slender fingers locked around his wrist and dragged him forwards.

Only then did he realize how he had completely zoned out and that Rose—followed closely by Juleka—were already heading to class and they expected the duo to follow. He probably shouldn't have let his mind wander minutes before the start of classes. A note to his future self, he supposes.

He and Dazai slightly push to go through the flow of students who were still in the hallways. Thankfully, the brunette's fingers around his wrist were grounding enough so as for them to arrive in class with no incident. Not that Chuuya would admit that to his partner though.

Before they could enter, two hands fell upon their shoulders. Chuuya had to suppress the reflex of grabbing the wrist and twisting. Instead, he and Dazai turned around stiffly.

They came face to face with a kind looking woman who was presumably their teacher. Her ginger hair was pulled back in a tight bun with a few strands sticking out and she seemed to be wearing light makeup.

"Hello there boys! I'm your new teacher, miss Bustier." She introduced herself with a bright smile. Well, at least she wasn't one of those strict teachers in the movies he had watched. Chuuya counted that as a win.

"Once I call your names, you can come inside and introduce yourselves to the class. They were all very excited over your arrival!" She said before patting their shoulders and going in the classroom.

Once she entered, most of the noise coming from the room quietened. That meant she was either extremely strict (highly unlikely based on her personality) or highly respected amongst the students. Frankly, both members of double black were pretty sure it was the latter.

"Come in!" That was their cue. So, finally, when he saw Dazai moving, Chuuya took a deep breath, exhaled and walked in.

He, in fact, didn't have to act too much considering how nervous he felt about this. The role they were playing only allowed him show his nervousness more openly, something he detested doing (he shouldn't show any weakness).

His eyes scanned the room for Chloe but he instead made eye contact with probably every single person in the class before meeting her eyes (jeez these kids were staring too much). Chloe simply crossed her arms and glared at her desk. Chuuya would have scoffed if it weren't for their current circumstances.

The teacher looked at them expectedly and so did the students. They must be waiting for them to speak! He was so focused on finding Chloe amongst his current classmates that he forgot to introduce himself. Dazai was just boring holes in the floor with his eyes and fidgeting (seeing Dazai humiliate himself like this would never get old). Damn it! That probably meant he had to go first.

The atmosphere in the classroom turned thick as the students smiles grew strained but their eyes never lost intrigue. It was as if they were examining every part of them and judging. Being under the scrutinizing stares of teenagers was not fun, he decided.

Miss Bustier cleared her throat before Chuuya could open his mouth and suggested that they say their names and something they enjoy.

So, Chuuya went with the first thing that came to mind. "Uhh I'm Nathaniel. I-I like drawing I guess..." He averted his eyes from the class praying that everything he said was grammarly correct (technically, he knew it was but still, the thought of messing up basic French this early in the mission was terrifying and that was coming from a mafia member).

Dazai took this as his cue to go ahead as well. "I'm Mark... I ehh like writing." He gave a weak smile before going back to the staring battle between him and one specific spot on the floor.

Out of the corner of his eyes, he saw miss Bustier's face softening and she gave them sympathetic smiles. Was that the reason behind Mori's décision to make them the stereotypical shy kids? For pity points?

Chuuya had originally guessed it was because the man actually pitied them and told them to act shy so they wouldn't have to include themselves in many conversations.

Perhaps it was a little bit of both and some other factors the boss must've considered.

"Alright boys! You can go ahead and take a seat in that desk." She pointed to the back of the classroom where the only completely empty desk was.

So they would have to sit together? What a pain. Not only would Chuuya have to endure his partner's antics at home but also at school? This mission was going to be a total nightmare.

.

.

By the time lunch rolled around, they had been in four different classes and met one other teacher who both of them immediately hated.

He and Dazai were attempting to have a civil conversation before Chuuya's stomach gave a loud growl and the brunette just chuckled.

"What? The lessons made you hungry? Your small doggy brain probably couldn't handle all that new knowledge and now needs energy!" Dazai teased deviously.

Just as Chuuya was about to respond by either shouting something in his defense or kicking the douche towards the nearest wall (the latter seemed much more appealing), he saw that they had reached the cafeteria. So instead, he settled for a glare and a light hit at the taller's stomach with his elbow.

As they entered, they noticed most students were already there. They seemed to look at their direction for a second, possibly to see who entered and then they went back to their respective conversations.

Chuuya went to stand in line to get food but he realized his partner wasn't following him anymore. Panic shot through him and he frantically looked around while thinking of the worst possible scenarios.

He probably looked like a psycho to the other kids based on the side eyes he was receiving but he didn't care at the moment. Dazai wasn’t here.

Only to find Dazai already conversing with a group of kids. He heaved in a sigh. Seriously, why did he get so anxious at the thought of Dazai not being there? It had only been one minute and not even the suicidal freak could kill himself or get kidnapped in under one minute.

He shook his head and received the tray of food when the line had thinned out. He scanned the cafeteria and his eyes caught on Dazai's blushing face and he had to double take. He doesn't think he would ever get used to Dazai acting out this particular role.

He started heading towards the table Dazai was at and once he saw him, he exchanged a few words Chuuya could barely lip-read from so far away and the kids gave what he assumed were dismissive gestures. So his partner must've probably asked them if Chuuya, or rather Nathaniel, could sit with them. Hah, as if he would comply if they actually denied.

He sat down, posture straight and legs crossed (a habit he recently picked up)  and shot the kids a shy smile, practically feeling Dazai trying to conceal his laughter.

"Hello... I'm Nathaniel." He greeted the kids shyly. He avoided Dazai's eyes because he knew that if they locked eyes, they would both burst out laughing. Dazai seemed to return the sentiment as he wouldn't dare to meet Chuuya's gaze head on.

"I'm Marinette nice to meet you guys!" The girl greeted animatedly as her pigtails bopped up and down.

"I'm Alya and that's Nino!" The other girl exclaimed before putting her hand on the boy's shoulder both to make him pay attention to the conversation going on around him and to clarify who she was referring to.

Nino seemed to snap back into reality as he lowered his headphones and gave them a toothy grin. "Hello my dudes! Welcome to our school!" He wasted no time in saying.

After a couple of tense moments where they just stared at each other, Alya decided to break the ice. "So did you move here recently? Not many people come here in the middle of the term you know?"

Dazai barely spared Chuuya a glance before giving a memorized answer, straight from the script given to the boys by Mori. "I used to live in Niece but had to move due to my parents' job." He averted his gaze when he deemed some shy kid would be overwhelmed by the attention.

"Same goes for me." Chuuya replied curtly.

"So you two knew each other before, then?" Marinette titled her head to the side and raised a questioning eyebrow and wow was that girl expensive.

"Uhh, yeah... We used to be classmates in our old school too." Dazai replied in order to sate her curiosity.

Marinette gave them a bright smile, clearly satisfied by the answer. “That’s so cool! It must be nice to have someone familiar around when you're in a totally new place.”

Chuuya nodded, more to get the conversation over with than out of agreement. Dazai gave a soft hum, his fingers fidgeting with the edge of his sleeve, still playing up the anxious, introverted persona Mori had assigned him.

Before more questions could follow, Adrien Agreste approached their table, his tray balanced perfectly, of course. “Hey, mind if I sit here?”

Marinette nearly dropped her fork. “O-Of course not! Go ahead!”

Dazai raised an eyebrow slightly. He recognized Adrien from the research he and Chuuya were forced to go through in preparation. Agreste, model, son of Gabriel Agreste—a big name in the Paris fashion scene, and potentially connected to the kwami activity Mori was investigating.

Chuuya, however, didn't recognize him, nor did he care. All he saw was a guy with perfect posture and annoyingly symmetrical features. His eyes narrowed, but not out of jealousy—he simply didn’t like the confident, golden-boy aura Adrien gave off. It was the exact type of energy he found irritating.

Just as Adrien was taking a seat beside Marinette, the cafeteria's temperature seemed to drop a few degrees.

“Well, well, well. Making friends without me already?”

Chloe Bourgeois strutted over, her heels sharp against the tile, with Sabrina trailing dutifully behind. She barely spared Adrien a glance before her gaze settled on Dazai and Chuuya—specifically, on the way they were sitting at her table without asking.

“I don’t remember inviting you two to sit here.”

Chuuya raised an eyebrow but didn’t move. “Didn’t realize we needed an invitation.”

Dazai just offered his usual smile—mild, unreadable, and faintly smug. “We figured the table was open.”

Chloe narrowed her eyes at them. For a split second, something flickered in her expression—annoyance, calculation, control. Then she gave a sugary-sweet smile and turned to Adrien.

“You’re not seriously sitting here with them, are you?”

Adrien looked between her and Marinette, clearly uncomfortable. “Chloe, they’re new. I thought I’d help them settle in.”

“Oh, please,” she scoffed. “They look like they’ve been everywhere. Probably prison included.”

Dazai looked away "shamefully" and started fidgeting with his fingerless gloves.

Chuuya stared anywhere but Chloe so the girl wouldn't see his annoyed expression.

Chloe’s smile twitched.

Marinette, meanwhile, was watching the exchange with growing confusion. “Do you… know them?”

“Of course not,” Chloe said quickly, her tone overly dismissive. “They’re just some transfer students from—where was it again? Somewhere in France or a garbage damp?"

Chuuya leaned back, his expression seemingly nervous. "Niece."

Chloe gave a theatrical shrug. “Same thing.”

She shot both of them a sharp glance as if daring them to contradict her. Dazai’s mildly bashful expression didn't change, but his eyes briefly met hers — a warning in disguise.

He wasn’t going to break cover for her drama.

Neither was Chuuya.

Adrien cleared his throat. “Anyway, it’s good to see you, Chloe. But maybe tone it down a little?”

“Tch. Whatever.” She huffed, glared once more at Marinette for reasons no one understood, and flounced off to another table. Sabrina gave a little wave before following.

As soon as she was out of earshot, Marinette turned to the boys. “So… what was that?”

Chuuya couldn't help but roll his eyes. “We ran into her in the hallway earlier. She’s got a… s-strong personality.”

“That’s one way to put it,” Adrien muttered.

Dazai took a sip of juice, still watching Chloe from across the room. “She’s certainly memorable.”

“She’s also clearly hiding something,” Marinette said, narrowing her eyes.

Dazai smiled at her, trying not to let the amusement seep into his voice. “You think so?”

“I know so,” she said, tapping her chin. “No way someone like Chloe just randomly knows two transfer students.”

"We already told you — we met her earlier." Chuuya raised an eyebrow. “You always this paranoid?”

Marinette crossed her arms. “Only when I’m right.”

Eventually, the lunch period came to an end. Dazai and Chuuya quickly fled to the hallway without making it seem like they were avoiding the group.

Once they were out of earshot, Dazai laughed quietly. “I like her.”

Chuuya sighed. “Of course you do.”

Chapter Text

Chuuya slumped at his desk, chewing the end of his pen. Next to him, Dazai had already constructed a small guillotine from paperclips. Neither was paying attention to Napoleon’s third exile.

Chloe sat in front, posture perfect, while texting under the desk. Every few minutes she glanced back at them. A twitch of her brow, a subtle shift — signals they’d memorized. Nothing out of the ordinary.

Dazai sighed. “If I hear one more word about continental congresses, I’m throwing myself out the window.”

Chuuya didn’t look up. “Use the front one. More dramatic.” He mumbled angrily. However, both of them were aware that if that were to happen, Chuuya would save his partner and then proceed to kill him himself for practically flunking the mission that would most likely guarantee them executive positions. 

Dazai's heart fluttered at the unspoken but present sentiment but he would rather ignore it for the time being. 

Dazai simply whined quietly. "I thought you cared about me!"

The ginger snorted. "Where'd you get that idea?"

Dazai pouted, much like a toddler in Chuuya's opinion. "Seems like my doggy is disrespecting its master again! Do I have to teach you manners again?"

Chuuya, honest to God, *growled* and that was Dazai's tipping point. He burst out laughing uncontrollably. Was Chuuya *trying* to further prove his point?

Meanwhile, Chuuya was attempting to hide his shock. After all, he barely saw the brunette showcase genuine emotions, much less laugh like this.

He let the fondness seep into his eyes and a few chuckles to escape from his mouth.

"Is anything funny back there, boys? Perhaps you'd like to share it with the class." 

Dazai quickly tried to swallow his laugh but the amusement was evident on his face. "No, madame, we're sorry."

Seemingly satisfied, the teacher turned her back on them. The duo shared a side eye and smiled widely. 

Chuuya tried not to acknowledge the flutter in his chest because then it would feel too real.

.

.

They spotted a man loitering by the school gate a full minute before he moved.

Plain clothes, but the wrong kind. Too still, too alert. Sunglasses on a cloudy day. He held a maintenance clipboard he clearly didn’t know how to read.

Chloe was heading for her usual spot under the gazebo. Too exposed.

Dazai stood. “I’ll intercept.”

“No,” Chuuya said quietly, eyes narrowing. “Let’s make it look natural.”

They moved like clockwork.

Dazai “accidentally” bumped into the man, tripping over his own feet and sending papers flying. The stranger caught him with military reflexes—too fast for a janitor.

“Oops,” Dazai said cheerfully. “Sorry! First week nerves.”

He patted the man down casually as they both crouched for the scattered pages.

“Where’s your school badge?” Chuuya asked as he approached, hands in pockets.

The man froze.

Dazai’s tone didn’t change. “What department did you say you’re from?”

“I—uh—groundskeeping?”

“You sure?” Chuuya’s smile was thin. “That clipboard’s upside down.”

The man bolted.

Before he’d taken two steps, Chuuya had him by the back of the collar, flipping him effortlessly to the ground. One twist of the wrist, and he was immobilized.

The man groaned. “Who are you?”

“Good question,” Dazai murmured. “We’ll ask you again later.”

They left him in the hands of two real security officers, who—coincidentally—were also part of their embedded team.

Chloe sipped her imported fruit drink under the gazebo like nothing had happened. But when they walked past, she murmured, “Took you long enough.”

Chuuya rolled his eyes. “You’re welcome.”

.

.

During lunch, while the rest of the school gossiped and flirted and scrolled through social media, Dazai and Chuuya slipped away to the library.

“I ran a scan on that guy,” Chuuya said, leaning over a laptop in a far corner. “Not an assassin. Not a mafioso. Just a stalker-for-hire with fake documents.”

“Still means someone’s watching her,” Dazai replied. “Not mafia-related, but it confirms she’s being targeted from multiple fronts.”

“And yet,” Chuuya grumbled, “she acts like we’re the inconvenience.”

“Because we are.” Dazai grinned. “That’s the beauty of it.”

Chuuya shoved a file into his chest. “Read.”

Inside were recent photos of akumatized victims, their recorded powers, and post-recovery interviews. Hawkmoth’s patterns were clearer in hindsight. Anger, sadness, fear — he preyed on emotional instability.

“We need to find the source,” Chuuya said. “This ‘kwami’ stuff. We can’t rely on the local heroes alone.”

“We’re in agreement for once,” Dazai said, flicking through the file. “I’ve been watching the girl — Marinette.”

“Dupain-Cheng? She’s a klutz.”

Dazai tilted his head. “Exactly. A klutz who always disappears when trouble starts. And guess who’s always missing at the same time?”

He held up a picture of Adrien.

Chuuya squinted. “...You think they’re Ladybug and Chat Noir?”

“I don’t think, Chuuya. I deduce.”

Chuuya muttered a curse under his breath. “So what’s the plan? Tail them?”

“No,” Dazai said smoothly. “We investigate. Quietly. Find out what kwamis really are. Who made them. Why Hawkmoth’s after them.”

He closed the file.

“Then we break the cycle.”

.

.

They stood atop a cathedral spire, watching the Seine glitter under moonlight. Below, the city breathed peacefully, unaware of the two foreign operatives mapping its darkest corners.

“We're not in Yokohama anymore,” Chuuya said quietly as if being any louder would ruin the — for once — peaceful atmosphere surrounding him and his partner.

He was feeling slightly homesick already. He missed the tea Ane-san would always prepare when he was feeling down, talking with Gin, ruffling Ryunosuke's hair, the rides around the city during golden hour with his motorcycle. 

He even missed seeing Elise scribbling away in Mori's office and that said a lot because the ability seriously creeped him out sometimes.

“Nope,” Dazai replied. “But evil is the same everywhere.”

“And the heroes?”

Dazai's eyes followed a red blur leaping across rooftops in the distance. Chuuya caught the movement as well.

“They’re just kids.”

Chapter Text

Paris, with its golden sunlight streaming through Renaissance windows and the gentle hum of morning life, felt deceptively peaceful.

But to Dazai Osamu, peace was never something to be trusted.

He leaned back in the chair of the sunny classroom, legs stretched out beneath the desk, arms lazily crossed behind his head. His head lolled slightly to the side, amber eyes half-lidded in apparent boredom. But under the surface, every fiber of him was alert.

Beside him, Chuuya was hunched over a notebook, pretending to be furiously taking notes while inwardly seething.

“Why do I have to sit next to you in every class?” Chuuya whispered through clenched teeth.

“Because I make such good company,” Dazai murmured without looking at him. “And because we both know if something happens to Chloe Bourgeois, we’ll be doing a lot worse than playing high school.”

Chuuya didn’t answer. His blue eyes flicked across the room toward Chloé, who sat near the front, arms crossed, chin high in her usual smug posture. But her eyes were sharp, scanning the room as if daring someone to notice the two men trailing her like shadows. No one had—yet.

Keeping their status as her bodyguards a secret was part of the agreement. An NDA signed in her father's name. No exceptions.

Except from the girl herself.

At the very least, she knew enough to keep her mouth shut. For now.

The school day passed in a blur of pretense and calculation. Dazai watched everything—teachers, students, even the janitor with the crooked broom. His eyes flicked to the windows once, where the clouds had begun to gather.

Storm weather.

By the time the final bell rang, Chuuya was already tense. His fingers twitched at his sides, eager for action, for motion. He hated the stillness of a normal school day. It made him feel boxed in, like a loaded gun gathering dust on a shelf.

They had just exited the school gates when it hit.

A sudden pressure in the air.

Like gravity itself had hiccupped.

Then the scream came.

And the sky turned violet.

“An akuma,” Dazai said quietly, watching the skyline twist and bend as energy warped the air. Hopefully their first encounter with an akumatized citizen would grant them some answers. Preferably, how they get their powers and why Hawkmoth, probably a full-grown man, was targeting a bunch of teenage heroes. 

“Right on schedule.”

“We need to move.” Chuuya said hurriedly.

“Chloe” Dazai called over his shoulder.

“I know, I know!” she snapped, grabbing her emergency school bag and vanishing into the designated safe zone they’d arranged in case of attack. She didn’t look back.

The boys were moving before she disappeared completely.

They ducked down an alley, and in a blur of movement, the students became something else entirely.

Dazai's eyes sharpened. The lazy smile was gone.

Chuuya cracked his knuckles, preparing for a fight. Gravity began to hum beneath his shoes.

The villain had taken the form of a massive, semi-transparent marionette—strings of energy lashing out and pulling people off their feet. They were stuck like dolls in a child’s tantrum, flung through the air, crashing into walls.

“Name?” Chuuya asked, already leaping onto a rooftop.

“‘Stringer.’” Dazai grinned darkly. “Apparently a puppeteer rejected from an art show. Classic origin story.”

Chuuya scowled. “You’d think after the tenth angry artist they’d start watching out for akumatization triggers.”

“Emotion is a powerful thing, Chuuya. And Hawk Moth—”

“—feeds on that. Yeah, yeah, save me the lecture.”

They moved in sync. A blur of motion. One fluid unit.

Chuuya launched into the fray first. His shoes touched the stringed street, but he activated gravity in an instant, sending a crushing pulse into the energy threads below. The puppet villain screeched, momentarily staggering.

“Oi!” Chuuya called out, dodging a swipe from an oversized hand. “Overgrown marionette! You want a real show? Try controlling me!”

The thing responded, predictably, and Chuuya smirked as the strings lashed toward him—only to find nothing but shattered air as gravity bent them away.

Dazai had slipped behind.

Silent. Fast.

And his hands were on the strings, studying their construction.

“These are metaphysical—emotional manifestations tethered to the akuma's will. I can’t nullify the power completely, but…” His eyes narrowed.

He sliced one experimentally.

The villain shrieked again, but didn’t falter. Still too strong.

He needed to find the object. Always the object.

Meanwhile, Ladybug and Cat Noir arrived at the scene—minutes behind.

They found the streets… oddly quiet.

No civilians. No chaos. Just a crumpled marionette costume—torn wires, broken threads—and a confused woman weeping on the ground.

“What…?” Ladybug’s yo-yo spun in her hand, defensive.

“No way that just… fixed itself,” Cat Noir muttered. “Where’s the akuma?”

Ladybug tapped her earring. “Tikki? Anything?”

But Tikki was just as confused.

“It’s like the purification happened without your charm,” the Kwami whispered. “Impossible.”

Ladybug’s eyes scanned the rooftops.

No sign of the enemy. Or the saviors.

Dazai crouched in the shadows of a balcony three streets over, breathing slowly as he held the broken charm necklace that had contained the akuma. Chuuya stood beside him, scuffing the edge of the wall with his boot.

They didn’t speak at first.

Then Chuuya muttered, “That was too close.”

“Closer than usual,” Dazai agreed, staring at the purple butterfly as it disintegrated into nothingness. “She almost noticed us.”

“She?” Chuuya raised an eyebrow.

“Ladybug.” He tilted his head. “Her eyes… they search too much.”

“She’s a hero. That’s her job.”

“She’s a child,” Dazai said softly, and there was something in his voice that made Chuuya pause. “They all are.”

Chuuya leaned back. “And what are we, Dazai?”

There was a pause.

“Monsters on a leash,” Dazai finally said. “But right now, that leash is in Chloe's hands.”

They both fell quiet again.

Paris buzzed in the distance.

Later that night, after debriefing with Chloe—who feigned disinterest but pressed for every detail—Dazai found himself on the roof of their temporary housing, watching the stars. Chuuya joined him after a while, tossing a bottle of water his way.

“You ever think we’re wasting time?” Chuuya asked, genuinly curious. Apart from fighting the—frankly pathetic—akumatized villains, the duo hadn't done much work. This whole mission was extremely underwhelming and it felt so wrong, so abnormal, for a reason.

“By protecting her?” Dazai cracked the bottle open.

“No. By not confronting Hawk Moth directly.”

“We don’t know where he is.”

“We could find out.”

Dazai looked at him.

And for the first time in days, Chuuya saw something real flicker in his partner’s eyes.

Not laziness.

Not amusement.

Though, he didn't know what flashed in his partner's eyes.

Dazai looked away. “I’m not ready.”

There it was again. That phantom weight Dazai always carried, heavier than gravity.

Chuuya didn’t press.

Instead, he said, “You think she’s worth protecting?”

Dazai smirked. “No.”

Chuuya blinked.

“I think she’s a brat with a vendetta complex and a dangerously inflated ego.” He stood, stretching his arms skyward. “But I also think she’s a human being. And sometimes… that’s enough.”

Chuuya snorted. “You’re getting soft.”

“And you’re starting to sound like me.”

“Shut up.”

“Make me.”

Chuuya punched Dazai lightly in the shoulder and they laughed all the way to the rooftop tiles.

From the edge of the night, two silhouettes—one in red, one in black—watched from a distant rooftop, confused and curious.

But by the time they moved closer, the shadows were already gone.

Chapter Text

The morning sun cast a golden hue over Paris as students filtered into Collège Françoise Dupont. Amidst the familiar faces, two new students stood out—Dazai and Chuuya, operating under the fabricated identities of Marc and Nathaniel, respectively. By now, they had mostly adapted to their roles but it could still be a bit draining to act so pathetic sometimes.

Dazai adjusted the sleeves of his lavender hoodie, a signature piece of his Marc persona. Chuuya, donning a crimson jacket, scanned the courtyard with practiced vigilance. Their fabricated backstories had been meticulously crafted, but the challenge lay in maintaining the facade amidst curious classmates.

Inside the classroom, Miss Bustier greeted them warmly. "Marc, Nathaniel, welcome. I hope you're settling in well."

Dazai offered a nervous smile. "Thank you, Madame. We certainly are. Everyone here is so kind"

Chuuya nodded curtly, his eyes briefly meeting those of Marinette and Adrien, who exchanged puzzled glances.

As the day progressed, Dazai and Chuuya navigated the intricacies of school life. They participated in group projects, engaged in discussions, and subtly deflected questions about their pasts. Their interactions with classmates were calculated, designed to blend in while keeping a watchful eye on potential threats.

In Chuuya's view, that was totally unnecessary. These kids would be scared by by even the thought of touching stile. Nonetheless, they still had a job to do, he supposed.

During lunch, they sat under a tree, observing the dynamics of their peers. Marinette and Adrien approached, their curiosity evident. Dazai was more surprised by the fact that Marinette wasn't a stuttering mess around the blond model like she usually is.

Seems like nothing could stop her from achieving her goals, or in other words, interrogating them.

"Mind if we join you?" Adrien asked.

"Not-not at all," Dazai replied not-so-smoothly.

Marinette studied them. "You two seem... different. Where did you say you transferred from?"

"A-A small town outside Paris," Chuuya answered, his tone showing its fair share of agitation.

Adrien leaned in slightly. "It's just that Marc and Nathaniel aren't names we've heard before." 

Chuuya subtly raised an eyebrow. That's why they were suspicious of them? Because of some names? How bold of them. Dazai let his lips curl into a smug smile.

Dazai chuckled, slightly breaking character. "We're full of surprises."

The conversation shifted, but the underlying tension remained.

"So, we came here to invite you to a hangout. Our class is planning a picnic this weekend and we were wondering whether you'd like to come." Questioned Adrien. 

It was likely the hangout was just an excuse, something to talk about after they deemed their interrogation wouldn't get them any more answers but Dazai replied anyway. 

"Of course! I-I mean sure, we'd like to attend." Chuuya immediately glared at him as if to blame him for getting them both involved in this group activity. He otherwise didn't interject.

Well, Chuuya just had to suck it up, he supposes. He doesn't like any kind of social gathering either so it's not like he's agreeing because he wants to see his partner suffer. Although, that would be a nice bonus.

Marinette and Adrien's suspicions were piqued by the silent conversation that had just transpired between them, and Dazai and Chuuya were acutely aware.

.

.

After school, a commotion near the bakery drew their attention. An akumatized villain, fueled by feelings of betrayal, wreaked havoc.

"Time to act," Chuuya muttered. If they wanted to uncover more about these "akumas" and "kwamis" they had to get closer. 

They engaged the villain, their coordination seamless. Dazai's nullification ability neutralized the akuma's powers, allowing Chuuya to subdue him. They destroyed the corrupted object, releasing the akuma, and vanished before Ladybug and Cat Noir arrived. 

Even if they had been doing that for little time, it had sort of become a habit. Something that dulled the edges of homesickness since fighting was something most likely done during a mission back home.

Later, in their shared apartment, Chuuya poured himself a drink. At least the mayor knew what he was doing with all his riches, this wine was among the best he had ever tasted. "We're getting too close to exposure."

Dazai leaned against the window, watching the city lights and letting the cold surface calm him. "It's a delicate balance. But we're managing."

Chuuya sighed. "Marinette and Adrien are so onto us." He pointed out not because he thought Dazai hadn't already caught on with their low-key interrogations but because he simply felt the need to emphasize.

Dazai turned to face him, expression remaining neutral. Ever since they started living together, Chuuya noticed that sometimes Dazai ran out of his usual teasing or social energy. Who would have guessed? 

He also noticed many little things that made Dazai seem more human than simply "the demon prodigy".  

"Then we'll have to be more careful." Dazai snapped the ginger out of his stream of thoughts.

Chuuya poured Dazai a glass of wine as well and handed it to him. He dutifully ignored the blush that spread across his face when their fingers met and their faces were inches apart. Those were the effects of the wine he had already consumed, he told himself. Dazai was slumped on the couch, still in a borderline dirty black tee that exposed his lanky, bandaged limbs and sipped on the drink.

The two sat in silence for a couple of minutes, simply staring at the scenery outside the window, basking in each other's presence.

Dazai took that opportunity to light a cigarette and smoothly take a drag of it.

“We’re getting sloppy,” Chuuya muttered reluctantly. He didn't want to admit that he almost got caught by a bunch of untrained teens on several occasions.

“We’re getting noticed,” Dazai corrected. “That’s different.” His reassuring tone made Chuuya want to believe him immediately with no second thoughts.

“You sure?” Chuuya sipped. “Because Dupain-Cheng has those suspicious eyes. I swear every time we have a conversation she's trying to sniff us out.” He noticed she had been getting more suspicious lately and kept an even closer eye on them, if that was even possible.

Chuuya had even seen her from the corner of his eyes when he was out shopping. Coincidence? He begged to differ.

“Let her suspect. She’s not our target.” Dazai said firmly once again.

Chuuya studied him for a moment. “You’ve been quiet lately.” The admission was finally off his chest. The ginger had been noticing how his partner had been quieter than usual. While it came with the undercover job, he couldn't help but find it unnerving in a way.

“I’m supposed to be quiet, you dumb doggie.” Unfortunately, Chuuya knew most of his partner's deflecting technics by now and he chose not to rise to the bait. He was trying to have a serious conversation damnit! How hard was it for that bastard to take things seriously?!

He inhaled and exhaled deeply through his nose.

“Not when you’re trying to annoy me.” *Not when you're with me.* went unsaid but the brunette caught it anyway because he knew his partner as well.

Dazai didn’t answer. He looked toward the window, where the Eiffel Tower shimmered in the distance.

“I don’t like this city,” he murmured.

Chuuya paused. That wasn't the answer he had been expecting at all. “Why?” he questioned—his toned becoming unreasonably soft. He had never used this tone with Dazai, only with the children in the sheep back then but he couldn't deny how natural it felt flowing out of his mouth when directed to his partner. 

“It’s too soft. Too... hopeful. It doesn’t feel real.” Dazai admitted. His gaze never leaving the sparkling Eifel tower in the distance.

There was a beat of silence. Then Chuuya walked over and sank into the couch beside him.

“You ever think,” Chuuya said, voice low, “that maybe this mission’s giving us something we didn’t ask for?” Considering Dazai was being vulnerable and opening up for once, Chuuya would do the same. 

He would lay all his thoughts and ambitions on the table for Dazai to see. Perhaps in due time, the brunette would open up as well. Notwithstanding, that was wishful thinking.

Dazai didn’t dare look at him. His gaze remained stubbornly on the sparkling Eifel Tower.

“Like what?” He likely figured out what Chuuya was doing (opening up just like he had done) so a soft smile adorned his lips and his appreciation for his partner grew even more. Though, he'd rather be tortured to death than admit that.

He took a moment in order to find the perfect words for what he was feeling. “A second chance.”

Dazai turned his head. Their eyes met. The room felt heavier—not because of Chuuya’s ability, but because of the quiet weight of something unspoken.

Dazai looked away, almost sheepishly. “Don’t get sentimental. It doesn’t suit you.” He wouldn't dare admit his voice almost cracked at this sentence. Emotional conversations were definitely not Dazai's forte. 

Chuuya chuckled. “And yet," He began, his voiced colored by humor. "You’re the one who keeps watching sunsets like a sad poet.”