Chapter Text
2 months after Lost in Paradise
They moved in together, of course.
It only took a week for Dazai to pack up his tiny apartment in Wakuya, and another two weeks after that for them to find a place large enough to accommodate both of their things. It was a small apartment, with only one bedroom, one cramped bathroom and a medium-sized kitchen-slash-living space, but it was still bigger than what either Chuuya or Dazai had before.
Their winnings went straight into Chuuya’s savings account, which was fine with Dazai. He seemed happy to let Chuuya be the one to do the spending, and often referred to Chuuya as his ‘little sugar mutt’. Chuuya only hated it a little bit.
He generally only used their winnings on necessities, anyway, and everything else he bought for them came from the money he earned at his bookstore job. He’d missed working for Hirotsu, even though he’d cut back on his shifts, only working a few each week. Dazai, of course, often visited the shop simply to get on Chuuya’s nerves.
Chuuya didn’t actually mind, but he’d rather die than admit that to Dazai.
The two of them spent a lot of time at The Black Lizard, the bar where Tachihara now worked. It was fancier than the one he’d worked at prior to being on the show, and occasionally Hirotsu would accompany them after work. He got along well with Tachihara—he always had, though he hadn’t interacted with him many times before—and occasionally Gin would join him as well. She’d moved to Yokohama with Akutagawa around the same time that Dazai had, and although neither of them lived with their partners—yet—Chuuya thought it was only a matter of time.
By the time they’d been off the show for the amount of time they’d been on it, Chuuya was confident that he and Dazai would be fine. They still had their occasional fights, but they tended to resolve themselves overnight, and their bickering, though no longer incessant, was still frequent enough to keep things interesting.
One rainy day in October, Dazai brought home a stray cat. Apparently, it had lived in the alley next to their apartment, and Dazai had been feeding it canned crab in secret.
“I thought you’d be upset,” Dazai admitted as he stood in the doorway of their apartment, dripping water all over the floor and clutching the scrawny stray. It let out a pathetic mew as Dazai said, “I just couldn’t help myself, though. I mean, look at him!”
Chuuya sighed and rubbed his temples. “You realize that thing could have a myriad of diseases,” he pointed out. “You’d better fucking take it to the vet, or so help me god—”
“So we’re keeping it?” Dazai interrupted hopefully.
Chuuya groaned. “Only if you scoop the litter, ‘cause I’m sure as hell not touching that shit.”
Dazai brightened instantly, and the cat seemed to perk up as well. “I’ll take it to the vet first thing tomorrow!” He promised.
He kept his word, and the cat turned out to be pretty healthy. It was also very much a girl.
“Who are we to decide its gender, though?” Dazai said loftily as they took the train back to their apartment, the unnamed cat in a brand new carrier.
“It’s a fucking cat, Dazai,” Chuuya pointed out. “I’m pretty sure it doesn’t care.”
“What are we gonna name it?” Dazai said, prodding Chuuya. “Can we name it Shinju?”
“Pearl?” Chuuya said, surprised by how normal the suggestion sounded. “I don’t see why n—wait.” He narrowed his eyes at Dazai. “You meant shinju as in—”
“Double suicide?” Dazai grinned. “Bingo!”
“Absolutely not,” Chuuya vetoed.
“Why not?” Whined Dazai. “I don’t see you giving any suggestions!”
“Cause I don’t have any ideas, asshole!”
It only took them three days to come to the conclusion that their adorable little cat was actually a force of destruction. The tiny asshole seemed to take after Dazai, refusing to eat anything but canned crab and frequently pushing everything from books to full mugs of coffee off of every possible surface.
She contained nothing but chaos, which is how Dazai and Chuuya eventually decided on a name.
“What about Arahabaki?” Chuuya suggested one day.
“Like the god of calamity?” Dazai said, interest seemingly piqued.
“Yeah,” Chuuya replied. “Fits, right?”
Dazai hummed. “We can nickname her Ara!”
It was an easy decision. Ara seemed to like the name all right, or at least Chuuya thought she did. It was hard to tell how she felt when she wreaked havoc wherever she went.
It wasn’t always easy living with the pair of disasters that were Dazai and Ara, but Chuuya wouldn’t trade it for anything.
5 months after Lost in Paradise
Dazai slammed the mail down on the table as Chuuya was eating his breakfast. He looked more excited than usual about receiving mail, and soon enough, Chuuya figured out why.
“It’s a reunion!” Dazai said, grinning as Chuuya took in the invitation.
Lost in Paradise 6 month reunion, it read in fancy cursive ink. Inside were a couple of plane tickets and a healthy dose of glitter that scattered across Chuuya’s lap. The dates on the tickets were the 15th and 17th of December, a month from tomorrow.
“It’s not at the villa, but according to Ranpo, they’re renting a place on the beach for a weekend,” Dazai informed him. “Still gonna be filmed for sure, though.”
“How did you manage to find that out when you literally just brought in the mail?” Chuuya said incredulously, attempting to brush the glitter off himself.
“I had my phone on me, so I texted as soon as I saw it in the pile,” Dazai explained.
Chuuya sighed. “I guess it’ll be fun to see everyone again.” Overwhelming, but fun nonetheless.
“Of course it will be,” Dazai replied. “I know you miss Kouyou. You literally call her every day.”
“And you call Yosano at least twice a week,” Chuuya fired back. “Not to mention the eight different games you’re currently playing with Fyodor.”
“Nine, actually,” Dazai corrected. “Our game of chess hasn’t ended.”
“Fucking maniacs,” Chuuya muttered. “You should both be locked up. Then again,” he added, “you’d probably still be playing mind games with each other in prison.”
“Probably,” Dazai agreed. “Would you break me out, Chuuu-ya?”
“No way,” said Chuuya. “I wouldn’t even visit.”
Dazai pouted. “No fair,” he whined. “Fyodor told me Nikolai promised he’d break him out of prison, if it ever came to it.”
“Good, maybe he can break you out while he’s at it,” Chuuya said savagely.
“So mean!”
Chuuya ignored him and sent a quick text to Kouyou—asking if she wanted to call later today to talk about the reunion—before finishing his breakfast and bringing his plate to the kitchen. After washing up, he got ready for his shift at the shop. Dazai came into the room at some point to grab socks and give Chuuya a quick kiss.
“I get off at three,” he told Chuuya. He currently worked as a barista at a cafe around the corner from their apartment, and actually seemed to be enjoying the customer service aspects of the job. Chuuya was just glad he’d stopped asking women to kill themselves with him, or else Dazai would likely have been fired by now.
“Cool,” Chuuya replied belatedly. “I’m off at four, so I’ll see you then.”
Dazai nodded and left. Only once the door had shut and locked behind him did Chuuya open the closet and dig out one of his old winter coats, the only one he had with pockets that zipped.
The coat wasn’t important itself. The ring he stored inside it, though, was another story entirely.
Chuuya unzipped the pocket and dug out the box of cigarettes where the ring was stored. He opened the box and pulled out the simple golden band, examining it with a slight smirk as he imagined Dazai’s reaction when Chuuya proposed. He’d bought the ring on a whim, and had been waiting for the right time to bring it out. The reunion was perfect; Chuuya just wished it was sooner.
It was going to be a very long month.
Six months after Lost in Paradise
Despite his usual horrid sleeping habits, Dazai managed to sleep through most of their flight. Chuuya woke him when they landed at 5:47 PM before dragging both Dazai and their carry-ons off the plane. “You owe me big time for this,” he muttered, muscles screaming under all the weight.
He managed to get them safely to the car that awaited them. The drive from the airport to the ‘new villa’, as they’d been referring to the reunion spot, was about 45 minutes, and Dazai snored the whole way there, head lolled onto Chuuya’s shoulder and arms draped around him cephalopod-style. The sun had set just before they landed, so it was fully dark now, and there wasn’t much of a view out the window. Chuuya stared out of it anyway until his vision grew blurry and his eyes began to close
Naturally, the moment Chuuya began to truly drift off, the car pulled onto a gravel driveway, waking Chuuya instantly. Dazai was still asleep, drool crusted at the corner of his mouth and eyelids fluttering rapidly. Chuuya sighed and poked at Dazai’s cheek. “Oi, Dazai,” he said, just loudly enough to be heard over the sound of rocks crunching under the wheels. “Time to wake up.”
“Don’ wanna,” Dazai mumbled. “Sleepy.”
Chuuya poked him again. “Too bad. We have to eat dinner with everyone, remember? Then we can sleep. It’s all in the contract.” Their contracts were very extensive, as it turned out.
“UGhgHghgh,” Dazai garbled, eyes shooting open and glaring at Chuuya. “It’s not fair!”
“Life isn’t—you know what? I’m not even gonna say it,” Chuuya said tiredly. “Just help me get the luggage this time, would ya?”
He didn’t, of course. Chuuya ended up carrying Dazai’s ass and their luggage up to the door and dumped it all—including Dazai—in a heap on the doormat before ringing the bell.
The door swung open moments later, revealing an ecstatic-looking Nikolai. “Ah, Chuuya and Dazai!” He exclaimed. “How good of you to join us! How blessed are we by your presence!”
“Ugh, is that the clown?” Dazai grumbled from the ground. “Make it go away.”
Nikolai cocked his head. “Now, Dazai, that’s not very nice!”
“I’m not nice,” Dazai replied, peeling one eye open to glare at Nikolai, “and I’m very tired, so if you know what’s good for you, you’ll keep your clown nose out of my—oh, Fyodor. Hello.”
Where there’s smoke, there’s fire, and where there’s Nikolai, there's Fyodor, Dazai had said once. Chuuya thought it couldn’t be more true; Fyodor came up behind Nikolai as silently as his shadow and lingered, taking in the pile of luggage and Dazai with some amusement.
“Hello, Dazai.” Fyodor glanced at Chuuya then. “ короткий ,” he greeted. Chuuya still didn’t know what that meant, but it must have been something along the lines of ‘shorty’, if the way it made Dazai snicker was any indication.
“Fyodor,” Chuuya greeted flatly. “How nice to see you both.” His tone was mildly sarcastic, but lacked an edge. He hadn’t exactly warmed up to Fyodor—Fyodor was still too cold of a person for Chuuya’s liking—but Chuuya appreciated what he was to Dazai. “Any chance you could help me grab this luggage? I’m gonna carry the mackerel, since apparently he can’t walk by himself.”
“Fish can’t walk,” Dazai mumbled.
“I can get the luggage!” Nikolai chirped. “Fedya’s too weak!”
Fyodor gave Nikolai a dirty look. “I could carry the luggage if I so wanted,” he said condescendingly. “I simply don’t want to.”
“Don’t wanna,” Dazai echoed, still half asleep on the ground.
Chuuya rolled his eyes and hefted his partner upright, slinging an arm under both of Dazai’s to support him. Nikolai grabbed both of their duffel bags—they hadn’t packed much, since they were only there for two nights—and Fyodor held the door open as Chuuya lugged Dazai inside.
“Everyone’s in the living room!” Nikolai said cheerfully. “I’ll just drop these upstairs before I join you.” He split off and took a staircase to their left, while Fyodor led them straight ahead down a wide hallway decked out in Christmas decorations.
The living room was at the end of the hall. The ceilings were high, and the windows presumably looked out at the beach, though it was impossible to tell now. There was a very tall, very garishly-decorated fake Christmas tree in one corner of the room with presents piled beneath, and a fireplace in the corner of the room that was currently shut off. It all seemed a bit excessive.
It appeared that Chuuya and Dazai were the last to arrive; the room was crowded, so much so that Chuuya had a hard time processing everyone in his tired state.
Kouyou spotted Chuuya first. “Chuuya!” She called, delighted. “Drop that boy and give me a hug!”
Chuuya dropped Dazai in a heap and went to hug Kouyou tightly. When he finally pulled away, he was swarmed by the others—Yosano, Ranpo, Atsushi, Poe, Lucy, Kenji, Higuchi, Akutagawa, Gin, Tachihara, Kyouka, Tanizaki, Kunikida, Kajii, Tecchou, Jouno, Mark, John and even Lovecraft, who Chuuya hadn’t even expected to make it there. Katai was absent, though for all Chuuya knew he could be napping upstairs.
Once he’d greeted everyone properly, Nikolai returned to announce that dinner, which was being prepared specially for the former contestants, would be ready soon.
The group migrated to the dining room and seated themselves around a long, fancy table. Chuuya found himself sandwiched between Ranpo and Dazai, who had started waking up gradually and was now conversing with Fyodor across the table. They were definitely speaking their made up language, because Chuuya couldn’t understand a word that was said.
Dinner was brought out by staff soon after and distributed around the table. As they ate, the ex-contestants chatted, filling the room with the kind of noise that Chuuya had missed. He didn’t even mind that they were being filmed; at this point, being on-camera had become somewhat familiar, anyway.
“Oh, Ranpo-san,” Atsushi mentioned at some point. “I’ve been meaning to ask, what was that ‘plan’ you were talking about during the final?”
Ranpo grinned. “Oh, that?”
“Yeah, what was that about?” Yosano asked.
“If you must know,” Poe spoke up, “We recently acquired a pet.”
Gasps rang out around the table.
“Is it a cat?” Atsushi said eagerly.
“Dog?” Akutagawa asked curiously.
“Bunny?” Kyouka chimed in.
“Wrong, wrong and wrong!” Ranpo sang. “We adopted a raccoon! His name is Karl Marx.”
Nikolai clapped his hands together with glee. “How wonderful! I must see a picture!”
“Isn’t that, like, dangerous?” Atsushi asked nervously.
“Not if they’ve had all their shots!” Kenji piped up. “I had a pet raccoon once.”
Tecchou, who was seated on Kenji’s right, looked interested. “What was its name?”
“His name was Gomi,” Kenji told him. “He was really cute!”
Ranpo passed his phone around the table so that everyone had a chance to see a very cute photo of Poe and Ranpo posing with Karl.
“How’d you adopt him, anyway?” Yosano asked. “Isn’t it hard to get one of those?”
“Not if you steal it!” Poe exclaimed. At Ranpo’s look of warning, he backtracked, “I mean, hypothetically steal it, which we absolutely did not do!”
“Nope!” Ranpo agreed. “We would never steal. Stealing is illegal!”
After dinner, the ex-contestants got drinks from the kitchen and lounged around the living room. They weren’t required to play any games or even put on all that much of a show until the following evening, which was fortunate because Chuuya wasn’t sure he could handle anything more than this right now.
The group only stayed up for another couple of hours before migrating upstairs. The sleeping situation was…interesting. The room was huge, containing exactly 16 beds—and one futon, in which Katai currently dwelled—so Chuuya assumed that most of the earlier contestants would be sleeping alone, while the couples that remained together would share beds.
After changing and brushing his teeth, Chuuya collapsed into his and Dazai’s bed with a groan. Dazai joined him shortly after, flopping down practically on top of him.
“Get off me, mackerel,” Chuuya mumbled into his pillow.
Dazai partially obliged, but left one arm around Chuuya’s waist. They stayed like that as the others filtered into the room, and even after the lights went out.
Chuuya thought it was comforting to sleep in the same room as everyone again, even if it was only for two nights.
~**o*O*o**~
Chuuya woke up just after nine the following morning. The other ex-contestants were just beginning to rouse; the only ones not present were John, Mark and Lovecraft, who must have gotten up already.
Dazai was still sleeping peacefully, and since he was as horrible at sleeping as ever, Chuuya decided to let him rest a bit longer. He went downstairs and found Mark and John in the kitchen. Mark had made a pot of coffee, which he offered to Chuuya when Chuuya joined them. Chuuya accepted gratefully before asking, “So where’s Lovecraft?”
Mark and John exchanged a glance. “I think he said he was going for a dip,” John answered.
Chuuya frowned. “I didn’t know there was a pool.”
“I’m pretty sure he meant the ocean,” Mark said with a snort. “What an odd guy.”
Kouyou joined them soon after and brewed a pot of tea for her and Kyouka. Tanizaki, Tachihara and Gin came down next, and soon after came everyone else. Dazai was practically hanging off Yosano, looking dead on his feet. “I hate jet lag,” he grumbled, transferring his weight to Chuuya and draping himself over his shoulders.
“We didn’t cross any time zones,” Chuuya pointed out. “Stop being a baby and drink some coffee.”
Dazai made grabby hands at Chuuya’s mug. “Gimme.”
“Get your own,” Chuuya snapped. Dazai rolled his eyes but obliged, returning momentarily with a coffee in hand.
Once the ex-contestants had all eaten something (or, in Chuuya’s case, consumed an ungodly amount of caffeine) Yuan appeared in the kitchen doorway. “Hello ex-contestants!” She chirped, smiling when she spotted Chuuya. “It’s my pleasure to announce that the gifts under the tree in the living room are in fact real, and in a few minutes, you will be opening them!”
“I bet they’re all cheap gag gifts,” Ranpo muttered. “Just you wait.”
The group migrated to the living room and crowded around the tree. Soon enough, they discovered a major issue.
“None of these have names on them,” Tachihara realized.
“Yikes,” Chuuya said with a grimace. “Some intern’s getting fired.”
“White elephant?” Yosano proposed. “Personally, I don’t really care what I get.”
“I’m down,” Ranpo declared. “This’ll be fun.” His eyes were gleaming, and Chuuya quickly realized why. Ranpo likely had deduced what presents everyone would receive in his head already; this way, he had no way of predicting who would receive what.
Kouyou and Yosano started passing the presents around. The one Chuuya received was a square box about the size of his hand.
“It’s so cute!” Dazai gushed. “A Chibi for a Chibi!”
Chuuya shot him a glare, but Dazai’s smile remained smug. His gift wasn’t much larger than Chuuya’s—it was also a square, closer to the size of his head.
“Okay,” Lucy announced, “I think everyone has one now, so open ‘em up!”
Chuuya didn’t hesitate before tearing his wrapping paper off of the box. “So violent!” Dazai teased, as he proceeded to do the exact same thing.
Chuuya opened the box and gaped at what it contained. It was possibly the ugliest bow tie he’d ever seen in his life—red with white polka dots, and a clip-on to boot. Dazai burst out laughing when he saw Chuuya’s gift. “I wonder who that was supposed to be for,” he gasped in between peals of laughter.
“Well, what’d you get?” Chuuya retorted.
Dazai lifted a baseball cap emblazoned with the words, ‘Here Comes Mr. Slut’, and then it was Chuuya’s turn to laugh it up. “I bet that one was actually supposed to be yours,” he told Dazai.
Dazai scowled. “Still better than your stupid bow tie.”
Everyone took turns displaying their gifts. Kouyou had received a set of Lost in Paradise coasters, which she ended up trading for Tachihara’s Live Laugh Lesbian mug (which was probably intended for either Kouyou or Yosano in the first place). Meanwhile, Yosano received—to her immense horror—a massive, signed poster of Mori.
“Why do I feel like he’s somehow responsible for that,” Dazai muttered to Chuuya.
Nikolai had gotten a silk robe decorated with flowers—and the Lost in Paradise logo on the back, of course—while Fyodor had received a bunny plushie, which he ended up trading for Kyouka’s gift (a pair of fluffy pink handcuffs). Lovecraft, who must have snuck in while they were opening presents, had received a ‘ Kiss the Cook’ apron, while John had received…
“A maid outfit?” He said, surprised. “Who came up with that?”
“I’ll take it if you don’t want it,” Mark offered. He’d received a set of Lost in Paradise themed playing cards, which Chuuya personally thought was a far better gift.
Lucy had received a fuzzy Lost in Paradise blanket, while Kenji received a pink sunhat that he seemed particularly excited about. Atsushi had received a Lost in Paradise water bottle with the words Get Grafting emblazoned on the side, while Akutagawa got the gift that was most likely meant for Atsushi: a white tiger plushie.
“No fair,” Atsushi whined. “You’d better share him with me.”
“ Her,” Akutagawa corrected with a glare. “And her name is Rashoumon.”
Atsushi stared at him blankly. “How the hell did you come up with that?”
Akutagawa just continued to glare at Atsushi, tiger clutched to his chest, until Atsushi promised not to steal her.
Tecchou received a pillow that was shaped like a cartoonish dick, while Jouno received some kind of chocolate-covered candy that he forced Tecchou to taste.
“Tell me if it sucks,” he said. “Actually, I probably shouldn’t trust a word you say about anything regarding food, but I am, so don’t screw me over.”
Tecchou took one of the chocolate lumps and put it in his mouth. It sounded kind of crunchy.
“Well?” Said Jouno, eyebrows raised expectantly.
“It’s good,” Tecchou confirmed.
Jouno reached into the container and pulled out another lump, sniffing it cautiously before putting it in his mouth. After chewing and swallowing, he said, “Not bad. What are they?”
Tecchou smiled. “Chocolate covered crickets.”
Jouno froze. “What.”
“You said you liked it,” Tecchou pointed out.
Jouno’s silence felt as scathing as a glare, but he took another chocolate covered cricket regardless.
Poe received a wall hanging with an ugly pie and the words, ‘ Kiss, Marry, Pie! ’ emblazoned on it in cursive font, and Ranpo received a yo-yo that he used solely as a means to harass the others. Chuuya almost got hit in the face twice, but somehow the yo-yo always missed by a centimeter or so.
Gin received a hideous, oversized pair of sunglasses that she traded for Higuchi’s art kit, while Kunikida received a t-shirt with the image of a surfer and the words ‘ Go with the Flow’ printed on it. Finally, Katai received a Lost in Paradise themed volleyball, Tanizaki a Lost in Paradise beach towel, and Kajii a pair of fuzzy cat slippers.
Tachihara and Gin began gathering up the wrapping paper and shoving it in a couple of trash bags provided by the staff while the other islanders split up. Dazai went off with Yosano and Ranpo—he hadn’t gotten the chance to catch up with just the two of them in ages, so Chuuya was glad he could—while Chuuya went to look for Kouyou.
He found her in the kitchen, brewing another pot of tea. “Ane-san,” he said as he approached (he’d taken to calling her that over the past few months). “Can I talk to you?”
Kouyou looked over, surprised. “Of course,” she replied. “Anytime you need.”
Chuuya let out a breath. “Thanks,” he said. He glanced around just to make sure Dazai wasn’t within earshot, even though he already knew he wasn’t, before telling her, “I’m gonna propose to Dazai tonight.”
Kouyou didn’t look the least bit surprised. “Of course you are.”
Chuuya’s eyes widened. “Was I really that obvious?”
“Not to everyone,” Kouyou assured him, smiling warmly. “I can read you well. Normally Dazai can too, but it seems like traveling messed him up quite a bit.”
“Yeah, I didn’t realize the flight would fuck him up that much,” Chuuya agreed. He felt like he should have known something like that, but then again, they hadn’t flown together at all in the past, so there’s no way he could have.
“It’s for the best,” Kouyou pointed out. “This way, hopefully, you can catch him off guard at least a little bit.”
Chuuya nodded. “That’s the plan.”
“Do you need any help?” Kouyou asked him.
Chuuya hummed. “I don’t think so. I just wanted to let you know,” he admitted.
“I’m glad you did,” said Kouyou with a smile. “I’m assuming Tachihara already knows?”
“Yeah,” Chuuya confirmed. He’d told Tachihara about his plans nearly the moment he’d conceived them.
“Good,” Kouyou said approvingly. “And where are you going to do it?”
“The beach, I think,” Chuuya told her. “I’m gonna head down there around eight, and then text Dazai to come meet me, if all goes as planned.”
Kouyou nodded, studying his face. “Are you nervous?”
Chuuya shrugged. “I’m more hyped up than anything. And slightly concerned I might give it away,” he added, mildly embarrassed.
“Understandable, given that it’s Dazai we’re talking about here,” Kouyou agreed. “I’m sure it will all go as planned, though.”
Chuuya smiled wryly. “I really hope you’re right.”
~**o*O*o**~
Around 7:30, the ex-contestants were informed that there would be a surprise performance at nine. Chuuya was glad he’d planned to do the proposal before then; everything should be fine. Right?
Wrong.
Chuuya received a text from Dazai a few minutes later. He hadn’t even noticed his partner slip away, having been too distracted trying to find a moment to sneak off to the beach.
Dazai had taken to using bitmojis as a form of communication lately. It was obnoxious, all the more so because of the way he used them. Like now:
We need to talk.
The bitmoji looked serious, despite being a fucking bitmoji. Chuuya bit back a groan and typed back, Y.
He saw Dazai typing, and then the text came through.
Come 2 roof.
“What the fuck,” Chuuya grumbled. “Idiot mackerel—”
He went upstairs, wondering how the hell Dazai had even made it onto the roof in the first place. Is there a balcony somewhere? Chuuya wondered. He hadn’t seen one from outside the villa, but that didn’t mean there couldn’t be one tucked away somewhe—ah. Chuuya paused in the hallway, looking up at a string extending from the ceiling. It was easy to miss, seeing as it was quite literally over Chuuya’s head, and he wouldn’t have noticed it at all had he not been scanning the hall for any possible way to get to the roof.
Chuuya cursed Dazai again as he jumped for the string, missing it several times before he finally got a good grip. I’m sure he would have loved to see that, Chuuya thought sourly. He yanked the string, pulling the ladder down, and ascended the ladder before pulling it up behind him.
The attic he found himself in was dusty, as if it hadn’t been touched in years. The air was mostly stale, but a fresh breeze tickled Chuuya’s nose, informing him that there was a window open somewhere. He crept through the dark attic, trying not to bump into anything—he probably should have tried to find a light, in retrospect—and eventually made it to the far side of the attic, where a window opened onto the roof.
The first thing Chuuya noticed when he stepped out onto the roof were the stars, so bright and clear and so damn many. For a moment Chuuya felt he couldn’t stop staring at the sky; it was even more impressive than it had been during their time on the show.
The second thing Chuuya noticed was Dazai. He was perched at the edge of the roof, close but not dangerously so, and he was glancing over his shoulder at Chuuya, smiling softly.
“Hey, Chibi,” he called. “Did you have fun jumping for that ladder?”
Chuuya scowled. “I knew you did that just to humiliate me! Bastard.”
Dazai’s smile widened. “I didn’t do it to humiliate you,” he replied. “That was just a bonus.”
Chuuya rolled his eyes and went to sit beside Dazai. The cigarette box felt heavy in his pocket; being so close to Dazai now, he was so tempted to pull it out—
“Chuuya.”
Chuuya turned to Dazai with a frown. “Yeah?”
Dazai’s face was uncharacteristically serious. “I have something for you.” Then, as Chuuya watched expectantly, Dazai pulled out a matchbox and slid it open. Inside was a—
“Oh my god, no,” Chuuya groaned, burying his head in his hands. Distantly he registered Dazai going still beside him, but he was too upset to process that. “I knew I should have done it earlier!” He whipped his head up and glared at a very confused-looking Dazai. “How dare you propose to me first? And only minutes before I planned to? God, you are the worst!”
Dazai stared at him blankly for a moment, and then he burst into laughter. “Oh my god, I can’t believe you actually had me scared for a second,” he wheezed. “Silly Chuuya.”
Still glaring at Dazai, Chuuya pulled out the cigarette box and dumped the ring into his hand. “Here, bitch,” he snapped. “Take your stupid ring.”
Dazai’s smile was so wide, his face looked like it was about to split open (like, in a creepy way). “Chuuuya!” He cooed, sliding the ring onto his finger. “I can’t believe you were going to propose to me!”
“Ehh? What’s that supposed to mean?” Chuuya exclaimed indignantly.
“Well, obviously I wear the pants in this relationship, sooo—”
“One time, Dazai!” Chuuya yelled. “I wore a dress one time—”
“And I’d love if you did it again,” Dazai said with a wink.
Chuuya groaned. “I hate you. I really do.”
Dazai’s smile didn’t flinch. “You loooooove me,” he sang. “Can’t take it back now! Anyway, gimme your hand.”
Chuuya sighed but obeyed. Dazai took the simple silver band he’d gotten Chuuya and slid it onto Chuuya’s ring finger.
“See? Now we match!” Dazai chirped, wiggling the fingers of his left hand gleefully.
Chuuya snorted. “Yeah.” He grabbed Dazai’s hand and laced their fingers together. It was an awkward fit—two left hands didn’t go together that well, as it turned out—but Chuuya held on anyway.
~**o*O*o**~
They stayed on the roof for a good half hour at least. Eventually the staff started setting up a stage in the backyard for the upcoming ‘surprise performance’, so Dazai and Chuuya went back inside.
They were crossing the attic when Chuuya heard a faint cough. Both Dazai and Chuuya froze.
“What the fuck,” muttered Chuuya.
Dazai flipped on the light, momentarily blinding Chuuya. Then the spots faded from his vision, and Chuuya saw him.
“ Mori?” he said in disbelief. Dazai looked equally gobsmacked.
The former Lost in Paradise host smiled at Dazai and Chuuya. He was dressed in the same outfit Chuuya had last seen him in, back before he’d fled the show, though now the jacket and pants were both torn and stained by god-knows-what. Mori, of course, looked perfectly at ease regardless.
“Well, if it isn’t my favorite couple!” He said cheerfully.
“What the fuck,” Chuuya said again.
“Did you crawl out of a sewer or something?” Dazai asked, gesturing at Mori’s ragged appearance.
Mori laughed. “No, but I bet you wish I did!”
“Are you…squatting here?” Chuuya said incredulously.
“I was, before the producers randomly chose this place for the reunion,” Mori explained. “What a fun little coincidence!”
Chuuya eyed him. He wasn’t sure he believed in ‘coincidences’ anymore, but he’d give Mori the benefit of the doubt.
“Anyway,” Mori continued, “congratulations on the engagement! I’ll send you a generous gift basket if you promise not to rat me out,” he added quickly.
Dazai sighed. “Don’t worry, old man, we’re not going to rat you out.”
“Yeah,” Chuuya agreed. “I mean, you’re kind of creepy, but you did bring us back together, so I guess we probably owe you for that one.”
Mori looked amused by that. “I suppose you do, huh?”
“Don’t let it go to your head,” Dazai told him.
Mori smiled. “I could never!”
There was an awkward pause, and then Chuuya said, “We kind of have a thing—”
“See you never, old man!” Dazai cut in cheerfully.
Mori chuckled. “Best of luck to you both.”
Dazai and Chuuya descended the ladder in silence. Only once they were back in the hallway did Chuuya say, “That was the weirdest fucking shit I’ve ever experienced.”
Dazai eyed him. “The proposal or Mori?”
Chuuya snorted “Both.”
Dazai huffed a laugh. “Fair.”
They swung by the dressing room to change, since neither of them had gotten dressed for the night. It was currently empty, the other ex-contestants likely having changed already. After changing, Dazai and Chuuya found them in the living room, lounging about and waiting for the staff to give them a signal. It was just after 8:50, even later than Chuuya had thought, so the performance was imminent.
“Guess what,” Dazai announced, drawing everyones’ attention. “Chuuya and I are getting married!” There was a brief moment of silence, and then what sounded like a small explosion.
“What?” Atsushi screeched excitedly. “Dazai-san—”
“Who proposed?” Nikolai cut in eagerly.
“Dazai did,” Yosano said at the same time that Kouyou said, “Chuuya did, of course.”
Another brief silence, and then more noise.
“Wait, what?” Yosano exclaimed. “Chuuya was going to propose? Since when?”
“I had no idea Dazai had planned that,” Kouyou said, amused. “So who did it first, then?”
“I did,” Dazai said smugly.
“He ruined my fucking plans,” Chuuya growled. “Dumb bastard.”
Ranpo snickered. “I should’ve seen this one coming, but I honestly didn’t.”
“Neither did I,” Dazai admitted. “I mean, I knew that Chuuya seemed a bit excitable lately, but I figured I was just projecting. I was a bit…preoccupied, you might say.”
The ex-contestants offered their congratulations, and a few minutes later, Yuan came over to inform them that the performance would begin shortly. Dazai tugged Chuuya along as they followed the others outside.
It sounded like the performers were warming up; Chuuya could hear someone playing scales on a keyboard, and another instrument that sounded oddly familiar. After a few minutes of hearing it, Chuuya figured out why.
“Where are Fyodor and Nikolai?” He asked Dazai.
It looked as if Dazai had come to the same conclusion that he had. “I think you know where they are,” he replied, jerking his head at the curtains that obscured the stage.
Sure enough, when the curtains opened a few minutes later, Fyodor and Nikolai were both onstage, alongside the rest of Decay of the Angel. Chuuya—like everyone else in Japan—had heard that Fyodor had debuted as a cellist at a recent Decay of the Angel concert, and featured on their latest album as well. Now, Fyodor played the opening notes to a familiar sounding tune. It took Chuuya a moment to place it, but he did, just a moment before Nikolai began to sing.
“I want you to kill me all the time, say, what would it take to make you mine? Stab me, carve me, put me on an altar, worship my body, your hands that never falter. Drown me, bury me, torch me with your fire, kill me a thousand times over, but you can’t kill my desire—”
The ex-contestants were practically screaming at that point. By now, even the ones who weren’t around during the talent show had seen Nikolai’s performance, and it was ten times more powerful with Fyodor and the rest of the band behind him.
“I want you to kill me all the time, spill my blood and drink it up like wine. Feed my obsession, become my addiction, my love is an ocean, our story is fiction. Distract me from my existential dread, and bury the axe in my head!”
Once that song ended, Decay launched into another song, one Chuuya hadn’t heard before. It was catchy, but the lyrics were dark, true to Decay of the Angel’s brand. Chuuya cheered and danced alongside his friends and Dazai as they played song after song.
When the concert ended, the Decay members joined the ex-contestants in the crowd.
“I wanna meet Sigma!” Dazai exclaimed.
“Go be a fanboy,” Chuuya told him. “I’m gonna find Tachihara.” He hadn’t gotten the chance to really talk to his friend since the proposal, after all.
Dazai gave him a quick kiss on the forehead and pranced away in search of the keyboardist while Chuuya scanned the crowd for Tachihara. He finally located him beside Gin at the edge of the crowd, and pushed his way over.
“Hey!” Tachihara exclaimed when he spotted Chuuya. “How’s the…fiance?”
“Pretty sure he’s trying to get Sigma to sign his face,” Chuuya replied. It sounded like something Dazai would do, anyway.
“I’m going to go find Ryuu,” Gin excused herself, giving Tachihara a kiss and Chuuya a smile before retreating into the crowd.
“So?” Tachihara prompted. “How does it feel to be engaged?”
Chuuya shrugged. “Not that different, to be honest. Makes me wonder if marriage is really that big of a deal.”
Tachihara laughed. “It’s really not,” he answered. “At least, I don’t think it is.”
“Only one way to find out,” Chuuya joked. “You gonna ask Gin to marry you anytime soon?”
“I feel like we should probably try living together first,” Tachihara replied. “Just an idea.”
“A good one,” Chuuya agreed. “If you get through that, you’ll be just fine.” He glanced over at the crowd and could just barely make out Dazai fawning over Sigma, looking so genuinely happy that it kind of astounded Chuuya. Chuuya watched as he forced a very done-looking Sigma to waltz with him— how he managed to get an A-list celebrity to do that, Chuuya had no clue—and couldn’t suppress the fond smile that took his face.
It was nice, watching from the outside for once while other people made Dazai happy. For a long time, Chuuya and Oda were the only ones who could do that, and Chuuya knew that very well. This was new, and Chuuya loved to see it. It made him feel good, like a hug, like a home.
Like paradise.