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When Dazai walks through the agency doors an hour late, it's to a sight he did not quite expect.
Chuuya is leaning back against the wall as if it is the only thing supporting his weight, hands fisted in his hair, and Kenji in front of him with a hand on his arm.
"Kunikida-kun," Atsushi murmurs, "Dazai-san's here so you can stop calling." His glances towards Chuuya, generally apprehensive, are now more concerned than anything.
"Where the HELL were you, you goddamn waste of bandages?!" Kunikida whisper-yells. Dazai's phone started ringing continuously right as he was making his way up the stairs and down the corridors, Kunikida's name flashing on the screen. He assumed it was to yell at him for his being fashionably late but it seems that was not the case.
"What's going on?" Dazai's eyes are fixed on Chuuya curiously.
Right as he asks, he realizes it instantly. His hand falls at his side. Chuuya's hands are clutching his hair, his head, as if he is in anguish.
Chuuya lifts his head at the sound of his voice. His eyes are sunken and bruised, wide and red-rimmed, just as Dazai expected.
Dazai hears a very quiet sob, just as one of Chuuya's hands, hovering in front of his face, reach for him.
It's enough to have him rushing over.
"He won't shut up," Chuuya's breath hitches on a grinded sob, "I'm… m'so tired… I just need a few hours of sleep…" His face twists, distressed as he blinks hard and fast through the exhaustion and tears, his shaky hand reaching for Dazai. "I just need to sleep… and then I'll… I'll fuck off…"
Dazai is already reaching for his face, taking it into his hands and murmuring in a gentle voice, "Shh, it's okay, sweetheart, it's okay, I'm here, I'm right here…"
Just as Dazai touches Chuuya's face, the nullification activates, and Chuuya's body falls right as Dazai leans down and catches him by the back of his knees and beneath his shoulder blades, straightening to his feet. He turns with him to make his way to the couch he is known to laze about on. He gathers Chuuya up in his lap so he can shrug his coat off his own shoulders, spread it out and drape it over his partner's face and front to block out the light, pressing his nose to his temple and humming softly.
When Dazai looks up the next time, it's to a whole host of shocked faces.
"What?" Dazai snaps, yet still in a whisper just to not disturb Chuuya, face heating up red. At this point it's so instinctive and ingrained to take care of Chuuya when he becomes like this that he forgets everything around him to a dangerous level. Dazai is not someone that loses awareness of his surroundings. Ever.
Except for this, it seems. How annoying. Chuuya always manages to make him lose his mind in the most unique ways, leaving him unable to think straight.
"We've never seen you like this with anyone," Yosano whisper-yells, "forgive us for being shocked!"
"I didn't know you cared so much about Nakahara-san, Dazai-san," Atsushi says, and looks at him with the bright eyes of someone who thinks he is the kindest person he has ever met.
"Am I having auditory hallucinations or did I hear you call him 'sweetheart'?" Kunikida says in a very low voice, whose face would have been priceless any other day and under any other circumstances.
"Can you all stop talking?"
"Right," Ranpo says, around his lollipop from the back, "Wouldn't want to disturb your sweetheart."
Dazai would really love to die right about now.
"I always thought they were kinda in love," Naomi mumbles to Junichirou with a quiet giggle.
After a while, Yosano comes close and tells him, "You can take him to the infirmary. He'll be more comfortable there."
"No," Dazai says, stroking Chuuya's bicep, "He doesn't do well in medical settings. I'll take him to the dorms."
With an obnoxious wave at Kunikida and a grin that says, I have the best excuse to not work and you can't say anything to me!!! He stands to his feet with Chuuya in his arms, looking into his face closely to see if he is under any distress. Chuuya is on the verge of sleep, not quite there yet, but relaxing in his arms slowly. The weeks worth of stress in his body takes a while to drain out of him. Dazai walks out the door.
____
SIXTEEN
The first time, Dazai breaks into Chuuya's apartment and finds Chuuya in his bedroom, sitting on the edge of the bed and leaning into his hands fisted tightly into his hair, gasping and heaving desperately.
"Chuuya?" Dazai says, finding himself kneeling at Chuuya's feet before he even knows it, his hands hovering uncertainly around his biceps.
Chuuya, without raising his head, releases one of his hands from his hair to reach for Dazai, grabbing at his collar with a sob.
"Ahaha," Dazai says, an uncomfortable tremor underneath, trying to hide the strange sense of grasping for an idea of what to do, and coming up empty-handed. "Is this Chuuya finally crying? Finally, my curiosity has been satisfied, but I must say, it's truly as ugly as I -- "
Chuuya releases his collar quickly, and Dazai has a second to catch the wild-eyed panic before he stands up on wobbly feet and tries to stumble out the door, but he ends up disbalanced and miscalculating from the exhaustion and stress, tripping on Dazai's shoe as he tried to make his way out the narrow space between them where Dazai was kneeling before him.
"Chuuya!"
Dazai is instinctually on his feet to catch him by the waist. Chuuya falls in his grip, as if something drained out of him and left him dizzy. Still yet, his body is strung tight with tension and emotion.
"Dazai, let go of - " Chuuya is grinding out, hitched with distress.
"Okay, okay, just relax for a second, Chuuya. Can you tell me what's wrong?"
Dazai does not let go of his waist. Chuuya's hands are hovering away from his eyes, his lashes glistening from the tears of exhaustion and overwhelm.
"Arahabaki… he's been screamin' in my head for weeks. I dunno how to shut him up…"
Dazai blinks down at him. "What am I here for then?"
Chuuya frowns, bewildered. "You're askin' me that as if I'm supposed to think you would've cared."
Dazai… does not like the way it makes him feel; stuck between the part of him that wanted to say, I don't think you know how crazy I am about you (but he couldn't. Of course he couldn't) and the part of him that wanted to pretend he didn't. Not at all.
"Well… even if I don't, I'd rather you didn't jeopardize the missions we would have just because you're not okay."
Chuuya stares up at him. He nods. "Right… the missions." His mouth squinches and attempts something, but it's feeble and fake. Dazai is inclined to think he is hurt about what he said.
After a while, "it's really just about the missions then, huh?" Chuuya finally says, pushing off of Dazai, and his voice sounds strange. He looks uncomfortably, uncharacteristically emotional. Generally, his primary emotional reaction tends to be anger, but Dazai is aware that lack of sleep loosens inhibitions and brings repressed subconscious emotions to the surface, from experience as well as study.
"What else is it supposed to be about?"
"Nothing." Chuuya's brows are furrowed, a doleful frown, and he tries to leave again.
Dazai grabs his wrist and pulls him back to face him. Chuuya is clearly exhausted and not up to par because it's far too easy to manhandle him at the moment. He is startled to find that there are tears in Chuuya's eyes again.
"Chuuya…"
"Fuck off, I don't need you fucking laughing at me right now!" Chuuya yells, trying to get Dazai's hands off of him, and with his wild and sunken eyes and his overwhelmed voice, he seems a bit like a cornered animal. "Get off me!"
"It's…" Dazai tries, because it seems it's what Chuuya needs to hear right now and would calm him down, he's not really able to look into his eyes as he forces out painstakingly, "I mean, it's not just about the missions… you know. You are my partner and all, and I'm… supposed to take care of you."
Up until now, this has been very unspoken, and Dazai would have really loved for it to stay that way. They just take care of each other without words. Or usually, Chuuya is the one taking care of Dazai, since he is the more physically vulnerable counterpart of double black. But Dazai thought they both knew it applied the other way around too?
Chuuya stares up at him, wide-eyed. He is so small his head has to tilt up, at Dazai's chest level. Dazai's finger twitches with the urge to tuck the red strand of curl at his temple behind his ear as Dazai feels him relax in his hands.
Then, in an unexpected twist, Chuuya seems to melt against him. His head drops to his shoulder, body encircled in Dazai's arms, his gloved hand tucked up in the space between those arms to clutch the shirt of his other shoulder. His tiny body is warm and firm against him, and it ignites the strangest kind of hunger underneath his skin.
Oh, Dazai thinks, hands left hovering over Chuuya's back in the bewilderment and uncertainty.
Oh.
There were two realizations that struck him breathless in that moment with the force of their meaning and intensity.
The first was that Chuuya really trusted him, when Dazai showed him that he could… he trusted him in a way that nobody else ever has.
The second was that Dazai did not want to lose that for anything.
Dazai touches Chuuya's back tentatively, with featherlight fingers. He can hear Chuuya's breathing. He is not yet asleep. So trusting, like the dog he is.
Dazai follows the hunger under his skin, with the excuse that all this is but a necessity right now. He lifts Chuuya up in his arms and carries him to the bed, lowering him down with a hand under his head to support it.
He climbs in next to him. But he is careful to not be too close, to keep a certain kind of distance, even though he wants that warmth and solidity against him again, in a way he never has; never has wanted it from anyone else but Chuuya. He keeps his hand around Chuuya's wrist.
But then there's Chuuya, huddling closer to him and trying to get Dazai's arm around himself.
"It's cold," Chuuya whispers, "And I don't like the feelings it gives me."
"Feelings?" Dazai says, sort of very still and unmoving and awkwardly compliant as Chuuya sidles against his side, cheek burrowing against his shoulder.
"They're gross," Chuuya mumbles, squeezing closer. Dazai means to push him off and say, slug needs to remember some personal space , but somehow he just ends up pulling Chuuya in tighter.
Only because he is being forced to, of course.
Dazai learns that even though it's been long since Chuuya has slept properly, Arahabaki's constant screaming and headache apparently puts his body in such a high stress state that it takes a while for Chuuya to come down from it enough to actually fall asleep.
Dazai sort of regrets many things he has said and done this night, is what he ponders over as Chuuya finally, finally falls asleep against him. He regrets the awfully sentimental acknowledgement that he sees it as his job to take care of his partner, and the fact that he can very obviously cave to Chuuya a lot given he is a lot of distress. Dazai spends the night wide awake preparing to refute everything Chuuya would say or use against him when he wakes up tomorrow.
But it turns out he never has to, because Chuuya doesn't remember any of it and Dazai can make up just about anything.
Chuuya's eyes are wide two days later as he says, "Hah? No fucking way I'm gonna believe that."
"It's true. I tried so hard to fight you off but you wouldn't let go of me!! You kept going on about how handsome I was and how much you loved my shoulders and how tall I was!"
"I never said shit, you bastard!" Chuuya lunges at him and Dazai dodges away in a twirl, laughing.
The second time is a lot easier, then, for Dazai to just let go when he knows Chuuya would not perceive him, or remember even if he does. There is nothing to fear.
It's the only time he lets himself be as gentle with Chuuya as he feels; the unbearable, sweet tenderness of his chest, almost like a pleasant bruise.
Dazai has been in love with him since he was fifteen, is the god-honest truth.
And it's so easy then, to give Chuuya everything he needs when he is so fragile.
___
PRESENT
"Chuuya," Dazai says softly, so as to not aggravate Chuuya's migraine and oversensitivity to noise. The coat is still over his face to keep the light out of his eyes. "I'm going to need to lower you down just for a minute, so I can unlock my dorm. Okay?"
Chuuya's answering hum is delayed.
Giving him a few seconds, Dazai carefully lowers Chuuya's legs to the ground on his feet, and he was fully ready to catch Chuuya tightly by the back, holding him against himself until Chuuya gained his footing. He was still leaning on Dazai's front all throughout, cheek to his chest as he is held to Dazai's body, and watching Dazai's hands work as they unlock the door.
"Alright," Dazai says, with a grunt as he leans down for the back of Chuuya's knees, sweeping him off his feet and lifting Chuuya up as he carries him inside the room. Dazai sighs, "My arms hurt, you know. For someone so tiny, you sure weigh a lot." Still, Dazai is gentle and careful when he bends to kneel on the floor, and lowers him down onto his own futon. Chuuya's brows scrunch as soon as the light from the windows hit his face, the tan coat having slid off him, his eyes pinched as the back of his hand is held out towards the window to cover his line of vision.
Immediately, Dazai stands up, rushing quickly to the windows so he can draw the curtains. Unfortunately it does mean letting go of Chuuya, which would bring back the horrible surge of Arahabaki's screaming and anguish.
Sure enough, there's an awful, strangled sound of pain and fear; almost a whimper.
"Dazai?" the word is a hitch of a breath. When Dazai turns back, Chuuya's eyes are wild with distress, darting around until they finally find him to settle on, a doleful twist to his face. It was as if he feared Dazai left him.
Dazai runs back quickly, on his knees again at Chuuya's side, touching his cheek to nullify Arahabaki. His face is leaning over Chuuya's. He strokes his red hair. "Shh, don't worry, slug... I'm not going anywhere until you're better. Promise."
"Dazai," Chuuya breathes, relieved. When Chuuya is like this, Dazai's name becomes an entire language between them. He can decipher what Chuuya says just by the way he says it.
"Let's get you out of those clothes," Dazai says, gently, "so you can be comfortable, right?"
Chuuya nods, and his blue eyes are fixed on Dazai's face as he lets him reach under his neck to unbuckle his choker. Dazai loosens the choker until it's open and runs a palm down Chuuya's neck to soothe the red mark. He represses the urge to press an innocent kiss to the side of his throat.
These are familiar gestures between them, even if uncommon and generally confined to very particular circumstances; like when Chuuya goes into this state, or the times when they were in bed together in the dark. They were something, Dazai thinks, even though they never gave it a name. Dazai, frankly, does find it hard to believe Chuuya could ever feel anything more than lust for him. If nothing else, Dazai knows his own elegant charisma and attractiveness.
As for him... well.
He fell in love. But he might have done that a long time ago before he ever got to touch Chuuya like that.
Dazai puts the choker aside, and works next on pulling back the bolera over Chuuya's shoulder. He can feel Chuuya's eyes on him, following his movements.
"Does Chuuya like my face?" Dazai smirks, not glancing up at him.
Dazai feels fingers on his cheek, stroking it as if to outline its shape. He sighs. Chuuya really is out of it at this point. Otherwise his general response would be some kind of disgusted yelling.
Dazai catches his hand, holding the back of it, so he can slide the glove off of it. He'll take care of the bolera and vest at the last.
He finds himself distracted by the way Chuuya's hand looks in his bandaged hand. He holds it and squeezes it, mind flashing back to the day they met; the way their fingers intertwined during their battle with Rimbaud. It was the only time Chuuya ever held his hand when he was lucid. Even after their partners with benefits relationship started, they never shared such physically affectionate gestures.
Chuuya's hand is very soft in his, constantly protected by the gloves. It's also a lot smaller now. When they were fifteen, Dazai remembers how Chuuya's hand was bigger despite being so short. Fufu. Now Dazai grew taller and so did his hands, so that's another thing he can flaunt on him.
"Chuuya's hands are so tiny now," Dazai says with a giggle, putting their palms against each other to compare them, like children do.
Taking Chuuya's gloves, belt, bolera and vest took time and effort, especially since Chuuya was really not trying to help.
Dazai sighs. To be fair, it seems the stress and adrenaline is draining out of him, and Chuuya is finally relaxed enough to be on the verge of sleep.
Dazai takes his shoes off, holding it in one hand. He places it on his lap. Chuuya puts his other foot on his hand, his eyes half-mast and still fascinated by the gentleness of his gestures.
"Oh~ your majesty! How could I have been so delayed with the other one?"
"It hurts," Chuuya whispers, frowning blearily
Dazai knows the constant joint pain Chuuya is carrying with him due to Corruption. He used to give him massages after Corruption, when Chuuya was either asleep and couldn't perceive him or in such extreme pain that Dazai couldn't pretend not to care anymore. To his relief, Chuuya never brought it up.
When Dazai lays down beside him after shedding his own extra garments and accessories, he pulls Chuuya's hands to his own chest and massages the fingers, the wrists, and the elbows and shoulders to ease the pain. He also wraps an arm up around his back, kneading his lower back there. After a while, he releases Chuuya's hands and pulls his leg up to his hip, pressing his hands to the joints of his ankle and knees.
Dazai's face is turned to him, watching him fall asleep little by little, until his eyes have closed and he is breathing steady and soft. His hands entwine with his, the spaces between their fingers slotting together. He squeezes their forehead and noses together, fond, smiling faintly at him.
"Sleep well, my little slug."
_____
Somewhere through the night, Dazai was awaken by the call to nature, and the pressure all over his torso and abdomen. Chuuya was lying on top of him, cheek smushed to his neck.
"Chuuya," Dazai mumbles. Chuuya doesn't stir.
So he sits up, gripping Chuuya tightly by the waist and now has him pretty much on his lap. Carefully, with one hand on the back of his hair, he turns and lays him down on the bed, scooting down as he untangles his arms from his partner, hands falling to the sides of him for support.
As soon as Dazai lets go, no longer touching him, Chuuya starts to stir awake; brows furrowing together with distress, which is to be expected. But Dazai also knows it has to be somewhat better since Chuuya isn't nearly crying with pain.
"Sorry," Dazai whispers, stroking a hand through his hair, "I just need a minute."
He tries to hurry as much as possible.
But when he opens the door of the bathroom afterward, it's to Chuuya sleepily leaning against the door waiting, and falling right against him as Dazai catches him, frowning drowsily and trying to blink awake. He is staring up at Dazai through half-mast eyes, brows scrunched together.
"Okay," Dazai mumbles with a sigh, and grabs Chuuya's arms and wraps them around his neck, then lifts him up so Chuuya can curl his legs around his waist. "Chuuya is lucky that he's so cute." It's a grumble so under his breath not even the walls could hear him.
___
Chuuya sleeps through about twenty hours generally after these kinds of Arahabaki episodes. But every now and then, Chuuya half-wakes up if Dazai lets go momentarily.
Dazai wakes up at the earliest light of dawn to Chuuya burrowing closer, arms curling around his neck. There is a sleepy little smile on his face, lit by the yellow-orange light of the sunrise, and Dazai is now looking up at him from his chest-level. He is so beautiful.
Chuuya tilts down and kisses him softly. Dazai closes his eyes, trying to drink this feeling in.
This is nothing new. Chuuya does this at least once throughout this.
It's just that...
Chuuya lets go of the kiss, and his body relaxes, as if already returning to slumber. Dazai's eyes are still closed, throat convulsing at the turmoil of feelings in his chest; tender and aching.
It's just that...
"Sometimes," Dazai whispers, because he can say things like these when he would not be perceived. Chuuya's face is still so close to him on the pillow that he can feel his breath. "I wish you would kiss me like this when you could remember it."
___
By the evening of that day, Chuuya wakes up fully.
Dazai spent his time either watching TV on mute, getting lost in his own thoughts? or watching Chuuya.
He never really gets bored when it comes to him. Even when he is asleep and doing nothing, Dazai can look at him for hours.
When the familiar frown takes over Chuuya's face, and the stirrings of his arms, legs; Dazai is ready to morph his reaction, body completely angled away and his arms to himself.
"Ahhh thank god the slimy clingy slug is awake!"
"Fuck, again?" Chuuya groans, sitting up and pinching the bridge of his nose.
"Yup. Again. I tried so hard to get Chuuya to let go of me but he just followed me to my dorm and kept trying to snuggle with me! I even tried a slug repellent spray but it didn't work! And now I have the chibi's slime all over me ewwww!" Dazai makes his face look green, gagging. "Oh god I need a shower so bad!"
"Oh shut the fuck up! Ugh! You think I wanna be clinging to you of all people when I'm like this!?" Chuuya is pink up to his ears, hands clenched, his face an amalgamation of anger and embarrassment. "I would rather die!"
___
The first time Chuuya woke up from the Arahabaki's episodes, it took him at least an hour to get his memories back.
But he did.
The second time too, it took Chuuya about as long.
And well, the thing is, he hadn't missed the strange expression on Dazai's face when Chuuya said he didn't remember what happened.
The first time when he regained the memories some time later, he kept quiet about them, because it was awkward and embarrassing for Chuuya and he wanted to pretend none of it ever happened. And that would be a lot easier if he just pretended he didn't remember at all. What could Dazai even say that he couldn't just respond with, yeah right like I'd ever believe anything you say.
It was fortunate (and, maybe, oddly kind) that Dazai never brought any of it up though, so he didn't have to.
The second time was so different, and he was quick to notice the contrast between the way Dazai acted the first time and the second time. That is, after Dazai was told that Chuuya didn't remember anything.
The exaggerated and falsified stories Dazai made up to embarrass him to hide what really happened - but there was that odd kindness in the fact that Dazai never truly made of any of Chuuya's real actions during his most vulnerable.
The second time, and every time after, Dazai was so tender and sweet with him, and Chuuya...
Chuuya just wasn't really enough of an asshole to hold that against him.
Especially when he found himself slowly falling in love with that side of him - the side he only got to see because Dazai believed Chuuya wouldn't remember it.
It was Dazai, too, being vulnerable. Chuuya is always searching for that in Dazai, the moments of humanity he rarely got to see.
And then he did and it was... beautiful.
And Chuuya knew whatever that strange state he went into after weeks or even months of not sleeping well, he was always drawn to Dazai not just because of the relief of his nullifying ability, but because of how much he trusted him, how comforted and cared for he felt.
Chuuya never really understood the reasons why Dazai was that way with him. He couldn't really even ask, because he knew Dazai would stop showing that side to him the moment he realized Chuuya never really forgot any of it. He was too afraid to tell him about his feelings, because they were partners with benefits and maybe Dazai was different with him but sometimes, a lot of times really, it was still hard to tell; what exactly Dazai felt about him.
So it went on like this for years.
But now.
Sometimes...I wish you would kiss me like that when you could remember it.
Chuuya's silent show of gratitude is by making both himself and Dazai breakfast, all crab dishes, especially since Dazai didn't really eat dinner last night because Chuuya knew it was hard to let go of him at the time, what with Arahabaki still being too active and coming back in full force if Dazai stopped touching him even for a second.
"I think Chuuya should quit Port Mafia and become my personal chef," Dazai sighs, looking satiated and happy, bandaged hand patting his stomach.
"Yeah right. With the salary you live on? You'll pay me like shit."
"Is Chuuya saying he would consider if I paid him properly? Because you know~ I do still have my mafia accounts-"
"Hah? Why the hell do you live like this then?"
"Chuuya didn't say he's not considering - "
"Shitty Dazai, I promise you, any job in the world would be better than being your personal anything. I figured that was obvious."
Dazai frowns dolefully. "Chuuya is too mean to me."
At the door, Chuuya puts his hat on his head, turning to face Dazai just as he gets out of the dorm. Dazai is standing in the doorway, leaning his shoulder against it, with the smallest quirk at a corner of his mouth.
Sometimes...I wish you would kiss me when you could remember it.
Chuuya looks up at him, thoughtfully. Dazai seems content to be staring back at him quietly, even if nothing is said. Seven years of partnership, of living in each other's pockets for three of them - silence has stopped being uncomfortable for them a long time ago.
Chuuya steps closer, lifting himself onto his toes as his hands come up to Dazai's shoulder, the back of his neck, fingers playing with his hair. His thumb strokes the skin of his nape, and Chuuya smiles slightly. There is surprise and confusion in Dazai's eyes, blinking.
"Thanks for always taking care of me," Chuuya whispers, a quiet, nearly soundless breath between their mouths. He angles his face, lips twitching into an ever-so-slight, mellow smirk. "Ever since we were sixteen."
Dazai's eyes widening in instant understanding is the last thing Chuuya sees just before he closes his eyes and pulls Dazai's head into the space between them, kisses Dazai. His gloved hands come to his collar, holding him in place, and if he is honest, he is afraid that Dazai would let go.
But then there are hands, at the middle of Chuuya's spine, across his shoulder blades; pulling him closer, and Dazai is kissing him deeper, neck craned down, the two of them rocking a little on their shoes.
Chuuya lets go of the kiss, just because there is something giddy and buoyant building up in his chest. Maybe it's the same for Dazai too. He could feel Dazai laugh into his lips.
"You've always remembered," Dazai murmurs, softly bewildered. "I can't say I'm not impressed you managed to fool me." He doesn't need to ask why Chuuya hid it so long. Knowing the way Dazai's mind works, he probably caught on to all the reasons in a second.
Chuuya smirks against his mouth, moving away so he could look up at him, chin to Dazai's chest. "I can't say I'm not proud of that." His smirk fades a little, more rueful and embarrassed. "I'm not proud of how much you gotta take care of me though, when I get like that."
Dazai brushes back a curl from his temple. "I have loved Chuuya since the day I saw him." He smiles faintly. "All I do is stop hiding it so much."
Chuuya's heart clenches tightly in his chest, and he doesn't have the words. He just pulls Dazai down again into a fiercer kiss, a sharp inhale from both of them, arms around his neck, wrists crossed and hanging at the nape.
Chuuya loves him too. Even if it's hard for him to get the words out in that moment, he hopes the kiss is enough of an answer.
Dazai breaks the kiss and looks down at him, fondness at the corner of his eyes. "Maybe Chuuya would like to stay longer, since it's Saturday?"
Chuuya's mouth quirks slightly. "Yeah... I guess I would."
Chuuya lets Dazai take his hand and pull him back inside the dorm.
The door closes shut.