Archive of Our Own ^beta

The Armed Detective Agency is prepared for a lot of things--they have to be. Enemy ambushes, the threat of the death of their President, someone getting shot in the fucking back.

What they are prepared for definitely scales to the extremes.

However!

No one could prepare them for the tiny child that wanders into their office, all smiles and introducing himself to everyone he sees, unaware that he’s giving every person he crosses paths with whiplash.

“Hello! My name is Chuuya! I’m 5 years old, and if lost, please give back to Mori Cor-- Corpato-- Corpations!”

The little boy, who to the ADA’s knowledge is the Nakahara Chuuya, is practically surrounded by flowery vibes as he recites what he must have been taught to say in case he got lost. And despite it being said by this miniature version of the Executive, it’s undeniably adorable, because no matter who goes up to him to try and gauge the situation, he always repeats the same message, messing up the last word every single time, even after being told by a cooing Noami the correct pronunciation. After the fourth time of the adult-turned-child happily saying Corpations , no one has the heart to tell him otherwise.

While they’re trying to figure out what to do, they make the mistake of allowing Dazai near him. By the time they notice, he’s already crouching down to poke at the child. His eyes are sparkling when his finger sinks into pillowy soft flesh.

Like a button is pressed, the child happily repeats his mantra.

“Hello! My name is Chuuya! I’m 5 years old, and if lost, please give back to Mori Corpations!”

Then, Dazai is lightly pinching his cheek, fascinated by how stretchy it is and how the child begins to giggle, airy and sweet, like the tinkling of a bell.

“Ah, Chibi has never been this cute!”

Suddenly, he’s lifting him into the air by his armpits, while the boy in question is giggling and squealing in glee.

“Dazai!” Kunikida barks. “Put him down before you hurt him! Mafia Executive or not, he’s still a child.”

“But Kunikida-kun~ He loves it! Right, Chibi?”

Mini Chuuya starts laughing when Dazai swings his body higher, chanting for more when he stops to show the blond man his elated face. Kunikida still reprimands him, ordering that he stop fooling around and help them figure out how to proceed, but the little boy starts to whine when Dazai places him back on his feet, immediately raising his arms in the air.

“Osamu, upsies!”

Dazai gapes at the child for all of three seconds before lifting him up again--an action that has the child crying out with joy--bringing him to be at eye level, so he can properly look at him.

“Do you know who I am, Chibi?”

The child happily chirps, “Osamu!”

“Mm, that’s my name, yes, but do you remember anything else about me?”

Chuuya tilts his head to the side, eyebrows scrunching together as he attempts to find out why he knows this stranger, but it doesn’t take long for him to give up. 

He replaces his frown with a radiant smile.

“Nope!”

Yes. Very helpful.

Apparently, child Chuuya is just as unpredictable as adult Chuuya, because he starts making grabby hands at Dazai’s face, struggling to get closer for whatever reason. So far, the little one didn’t seem to want to scratch his face off, so Dazai brings him closer, jolting in surprise when short arms wrap around his neck.

“What are you doing?” he asks, craning his neck to take a look at the child’s expression, failing when all he sees is a head full of brightly-colored hair.

Chuuya keeps his hands where they are when he lolls his head to the side to look up at Dazai. “I don’t know.”

“So even as a child, you’re stupid?” He grabs at his cheek again, awed by how cuddly this version of his ex-partner is. “But now, you’re stupidly cute. I’d say it’s an upgrade.” 

When Dazai sees how content he is, nuzzled into his collar and unfazed by being called stupid , he can’t help but feel protective over him, because the person he knows is all harsh glares and rough edges, but this... this is what a Chuuya without the tampering of the government and the cruel world is like. 

“Chuuya-san.”

At the call of his name, his head perks up, eyes zoning in on Atsushi, who’s waving something in his hand.

“Would you like some juice?”

His eyes are gleaming with want, but he restrains himself, deciding to look first at Dazai for permission to take it. It’s not like he needs to, but Dazai is delighted when he sees how happy Chuuya is when he nods his head.

After being handed a carton of apple juice, Dazai nudges him, pointing at Atsushi.

“What do we say to Atsushi-kun, Chuuya?”

“Thank you, Sushi!”

It should be concerning how fast Chuuya has the Agency falling for his bright smiles and cutesy gestures, but it wouldn’t be the first time the Executive has people fawning over him. It seems that no matter the context, child or adult, Chuuya is a people-magnet, and he isn’t complaining one bit.

~

While the ADA is having the time of their lives, eagerly trying to please an aged-down Port Mafia Executive, the actual Port Mafia is in shambles.

“Ozaki-san, we’ve searched every inch of HQ, but he’s not here.”

Kouyou keeps her expression icy as she orders the squadron of mafia grunts to check again.

“Check every corner, including the ceilings. Turn over every potted plant we have. Inspect the air ducts. If a single speck of dust in this building is left unchecked, I’ll personally make sure that every one of you regrets having the will to live.”

The grunts all bow, then scurry away as fast as humanly possible to fulfill their superior’s orders.

Kouyou doesn’t have time to rest as another person approaches her, this one being Akutagawa.

“Ozaki-san.”

“Report.”

“Chuuya-san was not in his apartment or at any of the places he frequents.”

Sighing, the woman gives the order to try new places. Anywhere a small child may be found.

“Where did that boy wander off to?”

Amidst the hustle and bustle of mafiosi scrambling around the building, running every which way to avoid punishment, a phone rings just loud enough for their boss to hear.

“Fukuzawa-dono.”

Despite how calm Mori forces himself to sound, he knows the man on the other end can hear what he can only describe as chaos in the background.

“Mori-sensei,” Fukuzawa greets, just as Kouyou barks another set of orders.

“To what do I owe to receive an unexpected call from you?”

Fukuzawa gets straight to the point, bluntly asking, “Are you missing something?”

When Mori hums, the other man takes it as a sign to go on.

“A small child, perhaps?”

The line goes silent, but Fukuzawa can hear the gears turning in Mori’s ever-running mind.

“I’ll send someone over right away.”

~

No later than ten minutes exactly, one Ozaki Kouyou is throwing open the Agency doors, startling the occupants of the room with her stony expression as she takes long strides into the room.

The bang has little Chuuya jumping down from his perch on Dazai’s lap and running towards the woman, whose expression relaxes immediately upon seeing him.

“Kouyou Ane-san!” he exclaims, hugging her legs and giggling all the way. “Upsies!”

Kouyou smiles oh so softly at him and carefully lifts him into the air. As soon as she has him up, he happily hugs her around the neck, with Kouyou hugging him back with the same amount of force that borders along suffocating.

The ADA are wary of the other Executive, keeping their distance but never letting their attention stray from the duo. They may be at peace with the PM, though it’s never bad to stay alert.

The tension spikes when Kouyou’s Ability makes an appearance, resulting in fighting stances to be taken as the ADA prepares for an attack.

But really, it’s not what they think.

Golden Demon comes out, expecting to see the man she usually spars with and is confused.

Who is this child? Chuuya is tiny, yes, but never this tiny.

“Hello,” Chuuya greets the Ability, waving from where he’s laying his chin on Kouyou’s shoulder.

Golden Demon pokes Chuuya’s cheek with her katana (the hilt, obviously), and as soon as it touches his skin, he winces, not because it hurts but because it’s cold. The Ability doesn’t know that and immediately recoils as if she had sliced him.

“I’m okay,” he tells her, head perking up as he shows his cheek. “See?”

Tentatively, the Ability creeps closer, leaning down to his level as if to inspect the uninjured skin. Satisfied to see that he is, indeed, unharmed, the Ability pats his head once before dissipating.

Kouyou replaces Golden Demon's hand in Chuuya's hair, leisurely stroking his head.

"Chuuya, why did you wander off?" she asks.

"Puppy."

"What happened with the puppy?"

She listens as he goes into a whole spiel about a puppy that nearly strolled into the busy street. The naive child saved it and followed it all the way across the city to make sure it got home safely, home being a cardboard box in a dirty alley.

As honorable an act it was, Kouyou cares little about some stray and scolds Chuuya for endangering himself.

“You shouldn’t have left without telling anyone. We were worried about you.”

It shouldn’t affect her how sad Chuuya looks, hanging his head in shame.

“I’m sorry…”

Now he's frowning, refusing to meet her eyes, and oh what the hell.

Sighing at her own weakness for such a downtrodden sight, she gives in and hugs him to her chest, reassuring him with whispered murmurs that she's not mad.

"Don't do it again, okay?"

"Okay!"

Has she gone weak to fall for such a radiant smile? No matter, she'll blame it on the anxiousness of having lost Chuuya for a few hours for her sentimentality.

She prompts him to say goodbye to the ADA, informing the stiff members that they'll return the following day to resolve this issue. And Chuuya, bless him, takes the opportunity to peek over Kouyou's shoulder to wave at everyone, calling back a cheerful, "Bye-bye~!"

They're allowed to melt for the nth time that day, right?

Because that's exactly what happens as they watch Kouyou carry him away.

~

As promised, they do come back, this time with the addition of Akutagawa. And with the other mafioso, there comes a sight that has Atsushi spluttering over his juice, 'cause what the actual fuck?

The deadly Ability that cut off his leg is currently the size of Chuuya, happily playing with the child as if it were some hyperactive pet.

They all watch, astounded, as the Ability nuzzles his cheek and practically purrs in delight when Chuuya pats her.

Atsushi looks from Dazai to Rashoumon, an are you seeing this expression on his face.

"Rasho! Rasho! Let's go see Sushi!"

That has the weretiger's ears perking up. 

In that moment, he's caught in an inner battle as Chuuya waddles over with Rashoumon trailing close behind. On one hand, he refuses to be anywhere near Akutagawa and his Ability. On the other hand, Chuuya is pushing past a crouching Dazai, whose arms are spread out for him to walk into them, just so he can walk to Atsushi instead.

Dazai's smile is nothing short of pained when Chuuya hugs Atsushi's legs, greeting him with a dazzling smile.

"Ah, so I've been replaced."

Having yearned to bond with the little one since yesterday but not getting the chance due to his attachment to Dazai, Atsushi feels triumphant. No one has ever chosen him like this before, so naturally, he feels happy to have Chuuya hug him first upon his arrival.

Wanting to take it a step farther, Atsushi crouches down to be at eye level with the redhead and spreads his arms in a hug.

"Do you want upsies?"

Chuuya shakes his head, confusing Atsushi, who is beckoned to lend him his ear. The teen's eyes widen when he hears what he has to say.

His heart throbs as he's leading a shy Chuuya by the hand to Kunikida's desk, but at least he can rest easy knowing that he was chosen because of how nice he appears to the child. At least he wasn't afraid of him and trusted him enough to ask for his assistance.

"Kunikida-san."

"What is it, Atsushi?" The man is too busy jotting notes in his notebook to notice the small child hiding behind Atsushi's legs.

When he doesn't get an immediate answer, Kunikida glances up from his work to tell the teen that he's on a schedule, but he holds his tongue at the sight of Atsushi coaxing Chuuya to come out of his hiding spot.

"Go ahead, Chuuya-san. He's not scary," he hears Atsushi say.

A tuft of copper hair becomes a half-hidden face that stares long and hard at Kunikida, eyebrows scrunched up in worry.

Kunikida hears mumbling that he can't quite make out.

Atsushi ruffles the top of Chuuya's hair. "He can't hear you."

The blond is familiar with this shyness, having had students just like this when he was a teacher. He knows that he has to do his part to really listen. There’s only a fraction of a decibel difference when Chuuya repeats his words, but Kunikida clearly hears an unsure,

"Upsies, please?"

There's a manly squeal bubbling in his chest then, wanting so badly to be released at the unexpected request. Like Atsushi, he didn't think he'd be worthy enough to be chosen by tiny Chuuya for the honor of giving him 'upsies.'

Yes, he is wary of this version of the Port Mafia's dangerous Executive, but to be honest, Chuuya has proven to be harmless in this state.

After containing the excitement that threatens to expose how happy he is, he allows the smallest of smiles to grace his features, showing Chuuya that he isn't as scary as the child probably thought. From the way he fully reveals himself, Kunikida knows it's a wise decision on his part.

As soon as he spreads his arms, Chuuya is running to him, bouncing on the balls of his feet, with his arms raised high in the air.

Gone is the timidness from before as Chuuya chants, "Up! Up! Up!"

Kunikida adores children, so being the cause of such joyous laughter fills him with an indescribable warmth.

From afar Atsushi watches Kunikida carry Chuuya around the room. Wherever tiny fingers point, he goes. Next to him is a sulking Dazai, whose plight only worsens when Chuuya shouts,

"Woah~! Osamu isn't this tall!"

"Stupid Chuuya," he childishly mumbles. " He's the short one."

Playing together for half an hour is the most time Kunikida will allow to alter his schedule and still be able to finish everything he has planned for the day. Once the allotted time is up, he plucks Chuuya off of his shoulders, doing his absolute best to resist his puppy eyes.

He's about to tell him that the others will be able to play with him, but when he scans the room, he finds that everyone else is either out on a mission or are a part of the group that's holding a meeting regarding Chuuya's current condition.

He frowns, not at Chuuya, but at how much continuing to keep him company will be a major set back in his duties.

"I can take him off your hands."

"President!"

The blond isn’t expecting his boss to offer to take up the task as babysitter and is about to wave off the idea to keep him from his own work. His rambling of being able to juggle Chuuya and work is ignored, while Fukuzawa holds out a hand to the child that took cover behind Kunikida.

"Would you like to read with me, Chuuya?"

It could be that the man's face is smoothed out into a subtle smile, or maybe it's the snacks he has in his other hand, but Chuuya is quick to put his hand in Fukuzawa's much bigger one, giving him his permission to whisk him away for the afternoon.

"Don't cause too much trouble for the President," Kunikida reminds the little one, afraid that his endless supply of energy will exhaust his admittedly older boss. He may not look it, but it's always good to be safe.

With the promise of being good, Chuuya disappears into Fukuzawa's office, not to be seen until later that day.

~

The ADA were aware of the Port Mafia coming back today to work on this peculiar case. Who they got is Kouyou and Akutagawa. What they do not expect is a surprise visit from the Boss himself.

“Chuuya-kun~”

The boy jerks his head up from where he’s reading a book with Fukuzawa, smile brightening when he hears who called his name.

“Boss!”

Chuuya hops off of Fukuzawa’s lap and runs outside to greet Mori, arms already raised in the air.

“Upsies!”

At that moment, everyone in the room holds their breaths as they witness Mori Ougai, infamous leader of the feared Port Mafia, swiftly swing little Chuuya up in the air and, quite literally, cradle him to his chest.

“How’re you doing?” the man asks in a shockingly kind voice, smiling softly when the young one begins to ramble about how fun reading with Fukuzawa-san is.

Meanwhile, the ADA are more than a little surprised. Most, if not all, have promptly stopped functioning, too occupied with watching how the two interact, because despite Mori not gushing over Chuuya like he would with Elise, there’s still that sense of genuine love and affection that presents itself in the way the man protectively holds the small child to his chest, smile tender when he’s asked to join storytime with him.

Perhaps the most shell-shocked is Dazai, who’s never seen this mushy side of Mori before. Sure, he’s seen the disgustingly doting version of his ex-boss but never a persona so...mellowly adoring.

He would assume that this change in personality has something to do with Chuuya’s unfortunate (or fortunate, depending on who’s asked) predicament. But then he overhears Mori sulkily express how the redhead missed their afternoon tea.

“You and Kouyou-kun never miss it.”

At the same time that the two Executives are appeasing their pouty boss, one of their apologies being more genuine than the other, the ADA are stunned into silence.

Until they notice a minor detail about their boss.

"President, your nose is bleeding."

All eyes turn to where Kunikida is hastily shoving his handkerchief at Fukuzawa, urging him to use it to clean himself up.

Mori kisses Chuuya's forehead, and another spurt of blood is gushing out of Fukuzawa's nose, confirming Dazai's suspicion. The bandaged man physically recoils from both of them.

"Geh... How gross."

Dazai can't bear to look when violet eyes turn impossibly softer when they're met with the sight of a flustered Fukuzawa, which is a shocking picture in itself.

"Fukuzawa-dono," Mori is nothing short of amused, "I believe you were in the middle of story time, yes?"

As it would occur, Fukuzawa's story time with Chuuya is moved out into the office, books, tea, and snacks all relocated to the area in the corner with the green couches. Besides the change in scenery, there's also an addition to their session: Mori.

Obviously, none of the Agency members trust the man to be alone in the same room as their President, so they came to the solution of having them be out in the open, where the Port Mafia boss can't easily make a move.

Despite not crowding the trio, everyone is heavily on guard, watching and listening to the interaction with bated breaths.

When it becomes clear that Mori is more interested in observing how Fukuzawa tries (and succeeds) to entertain his Executive with various toys that are clearly meant for cats, their guard does drop enough to leave them in peace, though they do make sure to frequently drop in to make sure Mori isn't slitting anyone's throat.

Compared to the tense air that surrounds the rest of the Agency, Mori is completely relaxed, sipping on his favorite brand of tea, as Fukuzawa fiddles with carefully tying two pigtails on the top of Chuuya's head, those of which hold a suspicious resemblance to the way a cat's ears are.

Mori has to put his teacup down to avoid spilling his drink anywhere when his old acquaintance resorts to petting Chuuya. He's afraid he'll snort his tea.

“My little executive is not a cat, Yukichi~”

The first name slips out much too easily for the eavesdropping Agency's liking. Even Kouyou and Akutagawa can't hold back their grimaces.

What poor, oblivious Chuuya hears is the word cat , and when it registers in his mind, the first thing he does is look directly at Mori, eyes blinking innocently up at the man, and he just--

"Meow."

Really, if all it takes to get their bosses to break character and get them cooing like pigeons is a miniature Chuuya meowing , no one would believe these men are skilled fighters that could easily kill a person, no hesitation.

When prompted to do it again, Chuuya happily makes the sound again, beaming pridefully when both men's eyes sparkle , praises dripping from their lips.

"Yukichi! Get the camera! Get the camera and record!"

The shameless gushing that fills the office is enough to obliterate any ill-intent that the Agency suspects from Mori. Now, they're regretting not letting them take Chuuya into another room.

Their sanity is salvaged when the noises of adoration eventually die down a few minutes later.

Apparently, being fawned over is more tiring than tiny Chuuya expects. When a yawn interrupts one of his meows , the little one wordlessly climbs off of Fukuzawa's lap and waddles out of the sitting area. He scans the room for one specific person, eyes lighting up when he finds him across the room, having tea with his Ane-san.

Both of them, the rest of the office included, peer at the head of copper that toddles his way across the room, stumbling only once on his journey before finally making it to the two that are waiting for him.

Chuuya goes straight to Dazai, eyes half-closed and arms raised up. Sleepily, he murmurs, "Upsies."

"Oh?" Dazai doesn't pick him up. "So now you want me to carry you? What about Kunikida-kun?"

Chuuya, too tired to deal with Dazai's teasing, just whines, "Osamu! Upsies, please!”

Never one to give in so easily, Dazai continues to deny Chuuya's request, resuming drinking his tea.

"Ane-san is right there, you know," he mentions offhandedly, alluding to the fact that he still won't give him his upsies.

Kouyou hides a chuckle behind her kimono sleeve, but she does feel bad when Chuuya's pout turns into a dejected frown.

Frustrated, Chuuya admits, loud and clear, "Wanna sleep with you!"

Let it be known that it takes a lot to sway Dazai, though hearing those words, accompanied by a small hand clutching onto his pant leg, his heart instantly melts .

Without waiting any longer, he picks up the waiting Chuuya and cuddles him to his chest, his tan coat bunching up around his body like a security blanket. Dazai’s arms are warm, comforting, and protective as Chuuya falls asleep in less than a minute flat, tiny fists rubbing at tired eyes.

Dazai excuses himself, cautiously carrying Chuuya to where he usually naps on the green couch. It's a good thing the two bosses left to take their business elsewhere, because he doubts he would've stayed if Mori was there.

As quickly as possible without waking him up, Dazai removes his coat to use as a makeshift blanket for Chuuya. Then, he takes his usual position on his back, keeping an arm wrapped firmly around the bundle on his chest. The other is cradling the back of the little one's head.

Dazai's expression is tender, fingers mindlessly playing with the copper locks he's missed more than he'll care to confess. Even like this, his chibi is dangerously cute, more so now that he's asleep, face void of the stress his adult self usually has.

He presses his lips to the top of his head, eyes closed as he remembers the familiar feeling he was sure he forgot. But reminiscing those memories turns his smile bittersweet, so before he can damper his own mood, he shuts his eyes, intending to rest, too.

"Sleep well, Chuuya."

Atsushi walks by a little later, where Dazai is napping along with his companion and is bewildered at the lump on his chest.

"Dazai-san, what's in your coat?"

Having dozed off himself, Dazai sluggishly opens it up to reveal a sleeping Chuuya, who has the brunet’s shirt in his fists, making it known that he won’t be letting go anytime soon.

Dazai falls back asleep once Atsushi leaves, which surprises him when he has to wake up at quitting time. He hasn't slept that much in years , and he has an inkling of an idea of why his nap was so revitalizing.

It's a terrible time for feelings, what with Chuuya being a child and all, and you can bet Dazai uses that as a temporary excuse for having to confront a resurgence of buried emotions.

When he has to give Chuuya back to Kouyou, he doesn't bother waking him to say goodbye. He nods his head to the woman, who leaves in a mafia-issued van. As he's watching the vehicle speed away into the sunset, all he thinks of is the restless night he knows he'll have, not unlike the others before it.

But at the very least, even if it was only for a little while, Dazai was reminded of what proper sleep felt like.

Maybe before Chuuya gets turned back into his original self, he'll snag a few naps with a version of his ex that's unlikely to pulverize him for cuddling him so tightly. Call him selfish, but he'll take advantage of this whole situation, before reality slams a door in his face and gives him back a Chuuya that may never love him again.

He's allowed to have this, right? Just for a little while?

A bittersweet smile crosses his face.

"Just for a little, and then you can go back to hating me."

~

"Ane-san, I wanna see Osamu."

Kouyou turns to the boy that's wrapped up in a ridiculous amount of blankets that conceal everything besides the pouting face that peeks through the opening. He's been sitting in her office for a majority of the morning, the blankets a result of the Port Mafia having superb air conditioning.

Hoping to finish both her and Chuuya's paperwork is proving to be more tedious than she thought, and her plans to take him out afterwards is starting to look like an unreachable goal. With that in mind, she gets up from her desk to take the free space beside him.

"Please? I'll be a good boy. Promise!"

Her hand peels back the blankets to comb her fingers through his unruly hair. It was neatly combed before they arrived, but the rolling around has done quite the number on her hard work.

"I'll let you go if I get to dress my little Chuuya today."

Such an easy request is met with an enthusiastic, "Okay!"

Kouyou keeps the outfit simple. Black shorts paired with the cutest baby pink bunny sweater, which had an added cotton tail stitched to the back and floppy bunny ears on the hood.

“That’s sly Kouyou-kun. It was my turn today.”

Her smile is smug as she and Mori watch Chuuya be escorted by Hirotsu. 

“That’s too bad.”

~

“Osamu!”

Dazai pops his head out from where he's hiding under his desk from Kunikida.

"Chibi!"

The second Hirotsu steps aside, Chuuya runs to Dazai, bunny ears flopping all around. The top of his head barely comes up to the brunet's hip bone, so Chuuya hugs his legs with all his might. Dazai’s heart instantly turns into a pile of goo at how cute he is, snuggling him upon contact.

Chuuya doesn't even have to ask when he lifts him into the air. The upsies is implied.

“Come on, Chuuya. Say I love you, Osamu! ”

“I love you, Osamu!”

“Ah! Kunikida-kun! Let’s just keep the chibi like this forever!” He nuzzles his face against Chuuya’s, who is giggling nonstop at the affection.

The suggestion is shot down with a firm, "Absolutely not."

Dazai boo's him, claiming how he's just jealous that Chuuya came to him first. 

(No, Dazai isn't salty about yesterday. Shut up.)

A clearing of a throat garners their attention to the older man behind them.

"Kouyou-san has made it crystal clear that she wants Chuuya-kun back to normal." Because as much as she enjoys playing dress up, she'd prefer to have him as his normal, 22-year-old self. The blatant threats she rained down on Dazai when he first joked about leaving him as is are fresh in his mind, some of which he'd rather not remember.

The angel that clears his mind of the phantom pain of Kouyou cutting off his dick is a light tugging at his collar, leading him to give a curious glance down to Chuuya.

"Can we get ice cream?" the little one asks. "Ane-san promised to take me on an ice cream date, but she has too much work. Can you take me? Pretty please?"

Dazai pinches at his nose, satisfied when his eyes clench closed and he tries squirming away from him.

"Is Chuuya asking me on a date?"

The assault on his button nose doesn't deter Chuuya in the slightest, nodding his head even though his 5-year-old self knows nothing of what a ‘date’ implies.

Dazai hums, mind made up. Then, he leans down, cupping his hand by Chuuya's ear to whisper.

"We have to ask mean old Kunikida-kun first."

Naturally, Dazai makes Chuuya ask, otherwise Kunikida would surely say no .

One round of Chuuya's puppy eyes and a use of his natural cuteness is all it takes for the duo to waltz out of the Agency without so much as a bout of protest from Kunikida. The blond is simply too enraptured by the child that stole his heart. It almost makes Dazai feel bad for using that for his own gain. Almost .

But all good things come with a price, and that price comes in the form of the small puppy in the window of the local pet store that catches the attention of the other puppy holding his hand.

Dazai tries to speed walk them past the store with one of his hands covering Chuuya's eyes, but the high-pitched barking has the child coming to a full stop, heels digging into the ground with enough force to keep both of them from proceeding.

Faster than Dazai can regain his bearings, Chuuya has his face pressed against the shop glass, staring, starry-eyed, at the puppy that energetically jumps around in front of him, wagging its tail at mach speed and barking at him nonstop.

"Hi, puppy," Chuuya whispers, entranced.

Oh no .

The moment Chuuya looks up at Dazai, a pleading look already taking form, bottom lip jutted out in his best pout yet, the man knows he's screwed.

"Osamu-"

"Sorry, Chuuya. The answer is no."

The boy looks absolutely crushed .

"I can pay for it!" the redhead tries to reason, turning around to show off his fluffy bunny backpack, which according to Hirotsu and his own nosy self, contains an excessive amount of money that is meant to be Chuuya's allowance while he's a child.

To be fair, Chuuya can afford the puppy--hell, he can buy the whole store if he wants to-- but Dazai doubts he can take proper care of one right now, in his condition.

Dazai continues to refuse to grant Chuuya's wishes.

Chuuya continues to stomp his foot, with the telltale prickling of tears at the corner of his eyes. Dazai, as the adult, has to ignore those tears, or else he'll end up losing to a temper tantrum and buying a puppy that he knows Chuuya isn't prepared to raise. He'll bet his right kidney that Kouyou wouldn't be happy with him either.

He will commend Chuuya for retaining his fighting spirit. Adult or child, the redhead isn't going down without a fight. Never has, never will. Any other time, it would be an admirable trait, but right here, right now, it's nothing short of troublesome.

"But 'samu! I want it!"

Unfortunately for Chuuya, Dazai can fight, too.

"No, Chuuya."

Why? God, why , did Chuuya have to look at him like that?

The child is on the verge of tears, the only thing stopping the substance from pooling over his own sheer stubbornness to appear strong.

Yet no matter how heart-wrenching a sight it is, Dazai must endure!

Seeing as they're at a sort of stand still, Dazai opts for a different tactic, one he's used countless times in the past and has succeeded one hundred percent of the time.

Threats.

"If you don't listen to me, I'll leave you here."

Chuuya may have been teetering along the edge of crying before, but this...

Oh, this causes full on sobbing .

Dazai may not be aware of it yet, but the words pierce something deep inside of Chuuya, hurting more than he could ever imagine. Because although tiny Chuuya doesn't remember, he still knows the feeling of Dazai leaving him, knows it like the back of his hand, aches from it like a wound that can never heal.

And so, little Chuuya, confused about why Dazai would say that and why the words hurt so much, goes into hysterics, full on crying, frantically repeating he doesn't want the puppy anymore.

"So please don't leave me again!"

And when those words come out, screamed through the tears, small fists clutching at the brunet’s pant leg for dear life, he understands.

Dazai quickly scoops him up and starts peppering his face with kisses, while simultaneously wiping the tears. He keeps muttering apologies and doesn't let him go.

"I'm not leaving you," Dazai repeats over and over again, desperate to get the tears that are still flowing freely from Chuuya's eyes to stop.

"I'm right here," he mutters against his hair, listening to the painful sound of Chuuya choking on his tears, breathing labored to the point that Dazai worries he'll pass out.

It takes an hour of gentle murmurs and continuous reassurance that he isn't going anywhere to calm down Chuuya's uncontrollable sobs. Even after, the redhead is still silently crying, head burrowed deep into Dazai's collar.

The brunet tries to cheer him up by taking him to the ice cream parlor they were supposed to go to, but when asked what flavor he wants, Chuuya merely shakes his head and holds onto Dazai tighter. It dawns on him, then, that Chuuya is too scared to ask for anything.

Dazai is guilty .

Chuuya was promised two scoops of whatever ice cream his heart desired, yet the incident with the puppy currently has him thinking that if he asks for something now, Dazai will leave him.

Feeling like utter shit, the older of the two still buys him some ice cream, requesting for it to be packed in a to-go cup in case Chuuya wants it later. Judging by the way the little one doesn't touch the frozen treat long after it's turned to mush, only continues to hide away in the crook of Dazai's neck, there's really no redeeming himself for his insensitive words.

"Chuuya," he tries calling when his clothes stop getting wetter. The only answer he gets is a soft sniffle.

Sighing, Dazai brings a hand up to stroke the back of Chuuya's head, fingers brushing the woolly fabric of his hood. Chuuya stiffens at the contact, relaxing a moment later to return to fiddling with the droopy bunny ears that match his exact mood.

That's when Dazai notices--

Where's his hat?

It must be too big for him to wear, Dazai speculates, stroking his clothed head with more care.

A detour and a short walk later finds the pair entering the hat shop that Dazai knows Chuuya frequents. He feels the boy in his arms move around, attention grabbed by the change of scenery.

Humming, Dazai strolls around the shop, pretending to peruse the various hats that line the walls. Rather than inspecting the finely made accessories, he's attentive to the way bunny ears thump at him as Chuuya moves his head this way and that, trying--and failing--to be subtle about his interest in the hats. The child hasn't said anything thus far, admiring them from a distance.

“Chuuya,” he calls to him, voice airy, “do you want to try on the hats?”

The shifting momentarily pauses, but then he’s shaking his head, little arms tightening around Dazai's neck, cheek coming down to rest on his shoulder.

Dazai expected this.

"Really?" He takes one of the tackier hats off the display, one he knows is more to Chuuya's unique taste. "This one would make you look so cool."

Well, no, it wouldn't. It'd make him look lame, if anything, but the way Chuuya perks up, peeking back at the hat in his hand, is a step in the right direction.

There's a sparkle in bright blue eyes that screams how much he wants it. One glance at Dazai has him hiding away again.

Dazai tries again, presenting multiple hats that he’s certain Chuuya wants but refuses to express his desire like he did earlier. At this point, there's no use trying to bribe his way back into Chuuya's heart, so Dazai takes them to one of the chairs off to the side of the store to rest.

It stings how attached Chuuya is to him after he inadvertently hurt him, because he's supposed to be mad at Dazai and screaming at him to go away. Instead, he's clinging on to him like a koala, sad and afraid that he'll disappear if he lets go.

It hurts worse when Dazai realizes this is probably how normal Chuuya felt four years ago, and based on how he's acting now, how he feels today.

The thought causes the pit in his stomach to deepen, the guilt overwhelming him to no end, consuming him from the inside out.

"I'm sorry for scaring you," comes out in a low voice, his own arms rising to wrap around the body in his arms. Tiny. Delicate. Vulnerable. "You thought I would leave you again, right?"

Dazai presses a lingering kiss to the side of his head, wanting Chuuya to feel his sincerity.

"I'm not leaving you, Chuuya. Now not, not ever."

The little one doesn't have to say anything. Dazai is content with staying just like this, cradling Chuuya to him and doing good on his part to keep him held to his chest.

Then he hears it, barely above a whisper that's almost drowned out in the smooth jazz playing in the back.

"Do you promise?"

Chuuya is staring up at him, eyebrows scrunched together in apprehension.

Dazai's heart breaks again at the blatant insecurity in those eyes, for although they can trust each other with their lives, feelings will always be a path in their relationship they tread extra cautiously. He usually makes a swift U-turn when it comes to this road, but he thinks he's ready to try.

Obviously, he's not going to do anything while Chuuya is an actual child. He just hopes that the decisions he makes now will somehow leave an impression on the Chuuya he knows and loves.

Smiling, genuine and warm, Dazai cups the little one's cheeks and presses another kiss on his forehead.

"I promise."

Dazai didn't think he'd miss a smile as much as he missed Chuuya’s, and as soon as he's blessed with it, he's filled with the urge to protect, protect, protect.

"Please, don't break your promise."

"Will you hate me forever if I do, chibi?"

Bewilderment crosses his mind when he shakes his head.

"I could never hate you." The redhead huffily crosses his arms across his chest. "But I'll cry again, so don't be a meany head."

Dazai doesn't know whether to laugh or cry, wondering if Chuuya's words will hold true. Though it's not like he plans on finding out. After all, he meant it when he said he won't leave Chuuya. If he's allowed to, he'd prefer to stay by his side forever.

But that's an entirely different matter for future Dazai and Chuuya to handle. As of now, his focus is on getting little Chuuya to choose a hat.

"Osamu, how about this one?"

Dazai has to repress the urge to comment on how ugly the hat is, donned with fake flowers and unnecessary gold stitches. With a stiff nod, he gives Chuuya a thumbs up, the resulting smile being the only thing that could salvage such a hideous sight.

When Chuuya takes more time admiring himself in the mirror than actually choosing, Dazai just buys whatever ones he tries on, meaning more than half the store's supply of intricately designed hats that range from decent to downright atrocious.

He may have a shit ton of money from his mafia days and from playing the stock market when he went under the radar, waiting for his records to be cleared, but spending that much in one day, especially on the offensively designed accessories that Chuuya adores, drains his energy more than his wallet.

The monstrosity on Chuuya's head makes him cringe, but his smile makes it worth it.

"You're lucky you look cute in it."

Understandably, Chuuya refuses to go home with Hirotsu, begging to stay with Dazai. The older man has no qualms with his superior's request, though he does bestow the honor of informing Kouyou to the brunet.

Dazai pulls the phone away from his ear, rubbing at it to make sure he hasn't gone deaf.

"Your Ane-san nags a lot."

He motions for Chuuya to turn around, so he can comb his hair. Once he's done, he pulls up the younger's hood, completing the look as a fluffy lamb in his onesie.

"She says it's 'cause she loves me," Chuuya says matter of factly.

Humming a random tune, Dazai helps Chuuya up on his ridiculously large bed, laughing when he trips and momentarily disappears into a pile of blankets and pillows. The bandaged man shakes his head and helps him up.

"Goodnight, Chuuya."

As he's leaning back from where he was tucking him in, his coat is grabbed by a small fist. One look tells him all he needs to know.

Sighing fondly, he scoots the little one over and climbs into bed with him. An oof comes out of him when Chuuya crawls on top of him, snuggling where he's been the whole day.

"If you turn back like this, you better not punch me in the face."

"Won't," Chuuya mumbles, already halfway to dreamland.

One beat. Two.

"Night, 'samu."

"Night, Chuu."

Sleep comes just as easily to Dazai as it did whenever Chuuya slept with him in the past. And for that, he's not at all phased when Kunikida scolds him the next day for coming to work a couple hours late. Sure, he gets his ass beat, but at least he has Chuuya to comfort him after his punishment, with his deadpan words of you deserved it and a sympathetic hug to console him.

Dazai figures he'll be able to slack off again today. Sadly for him, Ranpo ratted him out, and now he's stuck actually doing his work. The only upside is the cheerleader motivating him from the other detective's desk.

"Hurry! Hurry!" Chuuya encourages. "You can do it, Osamu!"

Weighing his options after Kunikida reminds him of the work he neglected yesterday, Dazai supposes dealing with this relatively easy yet tedious work is better than dealing with a sad Chuuya that won't be able to go to the park with everyone, if he doesn't finish it all.

By the time he sends in his final report, Dazai's energy has gone from a full tank to near depleted, days of carefree slacking coming full circle to bite him in the ass and leave him for dead. Alas, this is not his place to die, for the angel feeding him freshly cut watermelon and praising him for doing a good job is his sole savior.

Dazai mirrors an ah motion, mouth opening wide for the fork that appears in front of him.

"You're the only one that cares about me, chibi," is lamented through a mouthful of fruit, hand patting a head of copper hair.

"Someone has to." The words are said with a blinding smile, not a hint of mal-intent to be detected.

Dazai is touched.

He's opening his mouth for an entirely different reason, ready to spew some nonsense about Kunikida taking notes, though his plans to harass the other man is foiled with a timely nudge of watermelon brushing his lips.

Oh, well. He can harass his co-worker another time.

~

"Atsushi, Akutagawa, fetch!"

"Dazai-san, please, for the last time, I'm not a pet--"

A black blur whirs past him, knocking him off his feet and onto his bottom. Akutagawa throws Atsushi a triumphant smirk, hand on his hip as he offers the frisbee back to Dazai.

Why does he look so proud?! Is he stupid?

A glint out of the corner of his eye has Atsushi flickering his attention to a seemingly innocent tree that he knows holds a mafia grunt. His senses are on high alert, the knowledge of being surrounded by the mafia unnerving him to no end. He knows they're there for Chuuya's sake, so he tries not to mind them, as snarkily advised by the other man currently playing fetch with his mentor.

Honestly, he would've preferred not knowing in the first place, but when he saw Chuuya talking to the tree, asking the man stationed there to come and play, he had to intervene, almost beating the guy up, if Akutagawa hadn't told him that he was meant to be there.

Atsushi was too impressed by Chuuya's ability to sniff out any and all mafia affiliated members, startling each and every one of them out of their posts whenever he effortlessly unveiled their supposedly clever hiding spots, to care at the time. But now that he's focusing on the subtle rustling of leaves, stealing glances at any suspicious person that passes by, he's unwillingly put on edge.

Should he be glad that Naomi screaming distracts him from his paranoia?

The sound pierces his ears, has him rushing back to the picnic area in a flash. Blood pumping, senses heightened to the max.

That's when he sees it, the same sight that has Naomi frantically waving her hands in the air from across the field, trying to get Kenji to not do what Atsushi fears he's too late to stop.

"Kenji, no!"

But the next thing he, and everyone that catches wind, knows, Kenji is tossing Chuuya, small, tiny, weightless-compared-to-Kenji's-strength Chuuya, into the air, launching him higher and higher and higher still. They all watch in horror as the splash of blue, the only indicator of the little boy, turns into a dwindling dot, until there's nothing.

What happens next is pure, unadulterated chaos .

Everyone is running around, screaming, freaking the fuck out, doing anything they can to spot where he may land.

Kouyou has Dazai by the collar, features pulled into a beautifully dangerous snarl.

"This is your fault."

"Now, now, Ane-san. We all know I was far from the area of the incident."

Dazai is saved from Kouyou's wrath when they hear the characteristic chime of Chuuya's giggles, the sound increasing in volume by the second. Kouyou drops Dazai in favor of joining the rest of the ADA and PM running around like chickens with their heads cut off, arms spread out to catch the child whose giggles are the only indication they have to guess where he'll land.

It's useless, since a few agonizingly stressful seconds later, Chuuya is rocketing back down into Kenji's arms, laughing to his heart's content along with Kenji, blissfully unaware of the wave of relief that washes over the park that was in disarray moments ago.

"I think it's time to head home for the day."

No one protests that.

Surprisingly, there's no qualms about having dinner as a group. The true struggle is deciding where to eat.

From the ADA's measly budget to the PM's, where just one of their paychecks exceeds what the average ADA worker makes in a year , it's a no brainer that the topic of which restaurant to eat at is laid for debate.

As a result of their heated battle to choose between the upscale Italian restaurant on the other side of town or the cozy hotpot place down the road, two drastically different joints proposed by who you may not think at first, no one notices that they're missing a certain chibi.

"Look, all I'm saying is that you should treat us with your mafia money."

"But there's a perfectly good restaurant right there!"

"It's cheap ! If you're treating us, we want to go to an expensive restaurant!"

"How shameless can you be?!"

"You're just being stingy!"

The argument that's well on its way to becoming physical halts immediately when Kouyou asks where Chuuya is.

"Chuuya-san?" Atsushi pulls back from where he was all up in Akutagawa's face, head turning to face the back of the group, where he last saw the redhead.

"He was right there..," the teen utters, eyes scanning the area and failing to find the eyesore of a hat that Dazai bought for the child attached to it.

They all look at each other, praying that someone knows where he is, but they're met with the same clueless expressions that slowly morph into panic as soon as it dawns on them that Chuuya is missing .

~

A couple blocks back, in a more deserted area of the streets, a shady man is leading Chuuya by the hand into a dimly lit alleyway.

"Mister, are you sure Osamu is here?"

The musty walls and the barely visible surroundings are starting to scare the little one, who is starting to believe otherwise that the man is as nice as he claims to be.

"Of course he is! Just a little more, and you'll be able to see him."

The man's overly cheerful tone and too wide smile does the opposite of reassure Chuuya. He doesn't know what it is, but something is nagging at him, screaming that the man is bad .

"I don't think he's here..." Chuuya's voice trails off as he tries to subtly pull his hand free from the stranger's, but the man's grip only tightens.

Panicking, Chuuya tries again, this time using more strength but to no avail.

"Let go!" he screams, legs starting to kick at anything and everything.

The man's grip turns bruising, smile distorting into a terrifying glower that reveals his true intentions.

"Stay still!"

"No!"

Chuuya keeps fighting, mind racing with all the self defense techniques Kouyou meticulously drilled into him for situations like this. His little legs can't reach to kick the man in the testicles, so he does the next best thing.

He bites him. Hard .

"Fuck! You little bitch!"

Chuuya keeps his teeth snapped shut, refusing to let go of the man's hand, even when an icky metallic taste invades his mouth. All the while, the man is screaming just as loud as Chuuya was, slapping at him to let go. He does, eventually, release the man, though that's only when he's getting thrown off of him, body slamming into a nearby wall.

It hurts.

It hurts so much.

But he has to escape.

So while the man is yelling curses, cradling his heavily bleeding hand, Chuuya hastily begins to crawl towards the alley entryway, uncaring that his hands and knees are scraping painfully against the pavement.

"Osamu!" he starts shrieking, tears starting to run down his muddled cheeks. "Help! Please! Help me!"

His ears pick up the man's footsteps following after him, curses still falling from his lips.

"Get back here," he growls.

Chuuya starts crawling faster, vision blurred completely by his tears.

"Osamu!" he repeats, never once looking back. "I'm scared!"

When hands grab him again, there's a split second of pure terror that fills his body, before he starts to kick and scream with all his might, lungs burning from the amount of force used to create such an ear-piercing shrill.

He doesn't register being hugged to a warm chest, nor does he hear the ceaseless words of comfort trying to soothe him.

He's sobbing now.

"Osamu! I want Osamu!"

"I'm right here, Chuuya."

The hushed words ring louder in the child's ears than his own screams, slicing through the fog of darkness that clouds his mind, bringing with it a light to guide him back to the surface. Back to Dazai.

"Osamu," he sobs miserably when the familiar face finally becomes clear.

All at once, the tension in Chuuya's body dissipates, the adrenaline receding and leaving him absolutely worn, and he lets himself relax in Dazai's arms, openly crying for him despite already being wrapped up between the brunet's arms. He hides his face in his neck, fingers clawing at Dazai's shirt for fear of being separated again.

Dazai keeps one hand on the back of his head, stroking down his matted hair, and the other supporting the rest of his weight. There's a kiss placed on the side of his head, accompanied by sweet, calming murmurs.

The man that caused this whole fiasco is not forgotten. Oh no, far from it. He's pinned to his spot a few yards away, legs trembling from the unblinking, spine-chilling glare Dazai gives him.

The cocking of a gun triggers an onslaught of worthless pleas and excuses that fall on deaf ears.

Nothing could save the wretched soul from damnation. He was destined for it the second he laid his filthy eyes on Chuuya.

The man wants to run, but the impending doom that hovers over his back, scorching him with murderous intent alone keeps him trapped between a demon in front and what his instincts screams are more creatures of the night behind him, waiting to tear apart their prey.

There's no escape.

"Please!"

The gun is raised.

"I'm sorry!"

The words do nothing but drop the temperature, chilling even the ones behind him to the bone.

The bang that resounds throughout the alley, echoing loudly in their ears, isn't as satisfying as Dazai wants it to be, due in part to the fact that he misses. His aim is hardly a problem--he had it pointed straight at the man's shoulder, wanting him to suffer for the sin he's committed.

For a long, long time, Dazai stares at the ground behind the man that had pissed his pants and is currently cowering on the ground, pitifully crying in a mocking imitation of the child before.

Then, dark eyes shift to the little hand that had pushed the gun away.

A steady hand that rivals the full body trembling from earlier leads to raw, red eyes still wet with tears, only now, they pool together, kept from spilling over by surface tension alone.

Dazai's face is warm when his gaze lands on him, heart clenching painfully. Cupping one his chubby cheeks, he brushes away the dirt and tears.

"What's wrong?" he asks, voice no louder than a whisper in the wind.

"Y-You're doing your best to be good, so you can't kill him." Chuuya sniffles, putting on a brave face for Dazai. "I'm okay. See?"

Dazai takes a shuddering breath, counting the seconds that go by until his anger towards the creep lessens to a manageable point.

Chuuya is his top priority.

"Do you want to go home?" he asks, brushing a stray strand of hair behind the little one's ear.

"Please."

Ever a slave to Chuuya's wishes, Dazai complies, kissing his forehead again for being so brave and turning on his heel to take them as far away from the stranger as possible. There's no need to worry about his punishment. Dazai will leave that to the ruthless shadow lurkers that have been dying to get their hands on the scum that hurt Chuuya.

If the screams of agony are just loud enough to reach the mouth of the alley, the waiting Agency members choose to stay oblivious, pretending that there isn't a gruesome murder happening a few meters away.

It goes without saying that dinner is cancelled, everyone insisting that Dazai take Chuuya home to rest after Yosano patches him up. He'll have to redo the bandages once the redhead takes a bath, but at least now they don't have to worry about any infections from that dirty alley.

"Chibi, are you done?" Dazai peeks into the bedroom, stepping inside when he spots Chuuya waddling around, wrapped in a fluffy maroon towel.

"We need to bandage up your wounds."

Warped in his own world, rummaging through his closet, Chuuya fails to notice the arms that come up behind him, effortlessly lifting him up in the air.

"Let's get you dressed."

"Osamu," Chuuya huffs, "I can dress myself."

Dazai taps his forehead. "I know, but you can't reach your dresser, can you?"

The pout on his lips is a dead give away.

To Dazai's surprise, Chuuya claims to have already chosen his pajamas for the night, demanding to be let down so he can go get them.

As soon as little feet touch the ground, he's pitter pattering across the room to where Dazai's stuff is, shoved inside a little bag he brought over when he stayed the night.

While Chuuya does...whatever it is he's doing, Dazai fetches the first aid kit from under the bathroom sink, in the same exact spot he remembers from years ago. The memories bring back a bittersweetness that has him smiling down at the worn down box, near forgotten moments of weakness and vulnerability, subdued with pleasant nights between the sheets and unfulfilled promises that never left the tranquility of the bedroom.

It's strange to see this little box again, covered in lame stickers from their teenage escapades.

(Teenage Dazai would call them dates to grate on Chuuya's nerves, but looking back on those stolen kisses that didn't end with Dazai in the hospital, maybe they really were.)

A soft thump on the carpeted floors snaps Dazai out of his bubble of reminiscence, returning to the room where he finds Chuuya on the floor, struggling to stand back up because of the oversized shirt he decided to wear. Each time he successfully stands, he meets the floor's surface after a couple of steps, tripping over the sleeves.

Pitying the spectacle, Dazai puts the first aid kit aside to help him up, deciding to keep carrying him to avoid any further accidents. He wants to laugh and tease him for it, but his breath gets caught in his throat as recognition strikes him.

Swamping Chuuya's body in light blue stripes and cotton fabric is his shirt. It leaves nothing but his head visible, obscuring his arms and legs from view.

It's cute.

"Stealing my style, Chuuya?"

A sleeve slaps him in the face as short arms come to wrap around his neck.

"Looks better on me," is mumbled, muffled slightly by the way Chuuya’s cheek is squishing against Dazai's shoulder.

The man rolls his eyes, deciding to let him win this round, since he still has to take care of his scraped knees and hands. Once that's done and he's praised the redhead for being good for letting Dazai spray antiseptic even though it hurt, they move on to the next task on the list: feeding the little tummy that kept growling throughout the entire session.

"You like waffles, right?"

Chuuya peers over at Dazai, who's crouched down to retrieve the waffle iron.

"Ane-san said I can't have waffles for dinner."

An aha! sounds from below, Dazai resurfacing with a fancy iron that can make four waffles at once.

Hands on his hips, the older turns to Chuuya, booping his nose.

"Is Ane-san here?"

He shakes his head.

Smiling, Dazai declares, "Then you can have waffles."

The wide smile that spreads across Chuuya's face gradually morphs into a disappointed pout with each burnt or undercooked waffle. The one passable piece is bland, devoid of any real flavor, and he has a hard time swallowing it without some milk. The hopeful expression on Dazai's face is what keeps him from voicing his true opinion when asked if it's good or not.

So, forcing a perfected smile, Chuuya motions for Dazai to crouch down to his level, patting his head when he complies.

"It was yummy! Thank you!"

Dazai's smile brings him just as much joy as his own smile brings to the latter.

Cleaning the kitchen is a difficult task that gets done in record time when Chuuya nearly falls asleep at the dining table, stubbornly refusing to go to bed without him. Dazai has to brush his teeth for him, too, indicating the severity of his drowsiness.

Chuuya whines when Dazai puts him down, grabby hands reaching for him when he tries to leave. He's shushed with the promise of coming back soon.

"You'll kill me if you ever find out I slept in your bed without showering."

This Chuuya doesn't give a shit if he's clean or not. He's tired and wants cuddles now .

"You'll thank me later." Dazai consoles him with a kiss on the cheek, tucking him in to stay warm, while he's gone.

Naturally, the sleepy frown he comes back to is to be expected. The knitted eyebrows and jutted lower lip don't go away until Dazai has Chuuya resting on his chest, head nestled under his chin, with a hand on his back to keep him in place. The other is given the job of stroking the younger head's, playing with orange locks to lull him to sleep.

"Happy now?"

There's a sleepy hum and what he swears is purring , before Chuuya's breathing evens out, the waves of slumber claiming him for the night.

Like this, watching long eyelashes flutter against Chuuya's cheekbones, seeing him sleep so safely and soundly, Dazai can't help thinking about what will happen once he turns back to his normal self.

They weren't exactly on friendly terms before all of this happened, never speaking to each other unless absolutely necessary. Being with Chuuya these past few days let him get away with so many things, like giving the child upsies, spoiling him rotten, kissing him when he could--which was anytime he wanted, if he's being honest--and napping together.

While little Chuuya preens under the affection he’s given, Dazai knows normal Chuuya would kick his ass with a high blush on his cheeks.

One version happily expresses his desires, throwing tantrums if he doesn't have his way; the other would rather die than admit he wants something, especially if it's from Dazai.

Ah, but both versions are Chuuya all the same.

Same adorable fascination of animals, same terrible taste in fashion.

Even the frustratingly endearing fixation on Dazai's well-being carries over to tiny Chuuya.

Lithe fingers pause their movements when Chuuya stirs, mumbling, "'samu..."

Smaller hands reach out, effectively slapping Dazai in the face. That seems to satisfy Chuuya, who resettles in his spot, falling back asleep immediately after.

Dazai pinches his nose for the trouble.

The smack he receives this time is earned.

But he can't be mad. Not when Chuuya is holding on to him so tightly.

Ever so softly, whispered with the night as his sole spectator, he presses a lingering kiss to the top of Chuuya's head as the words that have no intention of reaching its recipient leave his lips.

"I love you, Chuuya."

~

Waking up the next morning is a lot more difficult than usual, most likely due to the unexpected weight on his chest. Moving proves to be just as challenging, the legs tangled with his making it troublesome in itself to even attempt it.

Uncomfortable as it may look to an outsider, the complex position is actually fairly cozy, seducing Dazai to go back to sleep.

"It's past noon, y'know?"

Dazai hums, eyes glued shut as he chases that quickly receding window of sleep that is adamant on reminding him that he should stay awake.

"I'm hungry."

An eye cracks open, blurry vision giving way to Chuuya, who's resting his cheek on his forearms, bright eyes staring up at him through his eyelashes.

"You can get up on your own," Dazai muses, sleep no longer an option but eyes choosing to stay closed.

"Would if I could, mackerel." To strengthen his point, Chuuya wiggles his hips, forcing Dazai to acknowledge that his arm is hooked around the other's waist, securing him on top of him, all methods of escape gone.

Technically speaking, Chuuya physically overpowers Dazai and can easily slip away if he so wishes it. The fact that he's still here, resting peacefully in the comfort of Dazai's presence, speaks volumes .

Chuuya doesn't need Dazai anymore, can kick him out right now if he wants to, yet here he is, allowing a pleasant silence to envelope the room as they both let the reality sink in.

Dazai is grateful for it, since he's not fully prepared to let him go.

If his arm tightens around Chuuya, and if Chuuya snuggles closer as a result, neither of them say anything.

Just a little longer.

There are words being murmured into Dazai's neck, the vibrations tickling his skin, almost too soft for him to comprehend.

But he hears it.

"Did you mean it?"

Dazai opens both eyes, gaze flitting down to meet wonderous blues that swirl with something more meaningful than mere curiosity.

“Mean what, Chibi~?”

Chuuya doesn't waver, voice steady when he clarifies, “The apologies for leaving me and saying you won’t leave me again."

His voice may not hint at his true emotions, but Chuuya's eyes never lie.

The insecurity and glimmer of hope reminds Dazai of the same child that cried for him twice , stricken with the fear of being left all alone.

Seeing tiny Chuuya cry broke his heart.

Seeing normal Chuuya cry would shatter it.

Just the idea of it has Dazai lifting his free hand up to Chuuya's cheek, cupping it like he did in the alley, thumb sweeping his hair away from where it's matted on his face.

The question is valid, the answer should be obvious.

They stare at one another--Chuuya vulnerable and questioning and Dazai serious, yet fond.

“I did, Chuuya.”

The exaggerated release of breath, along with Chuuya finally relaxing into his hand has the knot in Dazai's chest unwinding, paving way for the warmth that replaces it when the other starts pouting , eyebrows strewn together in a frown much like the one he got last night when he took too long to come back.

"Asshole, why'd you take so long to answer?"

Ah, really.

Tiny Chuuya and normal Chuuya are one in the same. The only difference is that this one uses vulgar language.

Ignoring the question, Dazai pinches Chuuya's cheek, teasingly stretching it this way and that, laughing when the half-hearted slaps to his face cease upon lips meeting sore skin.

"Why'd you kiss me?!"

Just 'cause he can, Dazai does it again.

A delightful spluttering sound forms in the back of the redhead's throat, face a blooming palette of reds and pinks.

Dazai shrugs, sneakily placing another kiss to his forehead.

"You weren't complaining before," he quips.

Chuuya is caught between being flustered and confused.

Each kiss peppered to his face is dial up on his flustered meter, and Dazai is wholly determined on breaking it. Interestingly enough, Chuuya's limit is when Dazai pecks the corner of his mouth, a few millimeters shy of touching his lips.

A flurry of motion happens then, the weight on top of him disappearing in less than a second, the sheets violently thrown in his face.

A belly aching laugh bursts out of Dazai when he removes the sheets over his head and sees Chuuya on the opposite side of the room, thoroughly scandalized, face a beautiful red.

"You--!"

Dazai sits up, back resting against the headboard. Feigning innocence, he points to himself.

"Me?"

Chuuya glares at him, finger pointed back in his direction.

"Tell me what you want for lunch!" he demands, attempting to sound menacing but looking plain cute .

"Oh?"

That is definitely not what Dazai expects to hear.

"Hurry up, or I'll let you starve."

He isn't feeling all that up to eating, but if Chuuya is cooking, maybe he'll indulge a little bit. After all, his cooking is one of the many things he's missed about him, it being some of the only food he's ever willingly eaten and enjoyed.

Hand brought to his chin in thought, he seriously considers the offer, eyes brightening when he picks a dish.

"Katsudon," he relays to Chuuya, whose face has calmed down a bit, the pink now a dusting of color.

As soon as the request is made, Chuuya begins walking towards the door, eyes focused forward, not at all glancing back at Dazai.

The brunet notices the rolled up sleeves and the fabric that's just long enough to cover his ass.

"You don't plan on changing?"

Chuuya halts in his tracks, turning around to raise an eyebrow at him.

"It's comfortable," is his plain response.

"Do you plan on giving it back?" Dazai has to ask, that being the one spare shirt he brought. He doubts any of Chuuya's will fit him.

"Fuck no. Besides, it looks better on me."

Dramatic as ever, Dazai brings the back of his hand to his forehead, swooning on the bed.

"You're killing me," he laments, his act slipping for a second when he hears a snort.

"Die if you want, but if you don't take me out for ice cream after lunch, I'll hate you forever."

What a childish threat, Dazai mocks.

He buys Chuuya all the ice cream he wants.