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Chuuya walks with a spring in his step, with a hint of a smile plastered on his lips, a bouquet of flowers under his arm. Unlike most days, he decides not to take a taxi back to his apartment. Walking seemed like the better option to him, probably due to his good mood.
As he made his way through the busy streets of Yokohama, he notices a vast majority of people who also seemed like they were in a better mood than most days. After all, it was Valentine’s day.
Ah, Valentine's day. The day for lovers to express their affections through the act of gifting chocolate or flowers.
It was not as if Chuuya had waited day and night for this day to come, since he's been single for almost his entire life (he hopes it will not stay this way for long). With this in mind, imagine his surprise when a bouquet of roses was shoved into his face the moment he entered his office this morning. Turns out, one of his subordinates had been harbouring a secret admiration (or was it infatuation? Chuuya couldn’t remember the specifics of what she said) towards him.
Hm, I should get some fine wine to savour tonight…, he thinks to himself, and his train of thought comes abruptly to a stop as he rounded a corner and spots a familiar silhouette.
Chuuya rubs his eyes once. Then twice. He pauses in his tracks. This has to be an illusion, because there’s no way in any universe that Dazai would buy flowers for someone on Valentine's Day.
Chuuya must've been gaping at him for a while, because Dazai turns to look at him and scowls.
Regaining his composure, Chuuya walks towards him, already coming up with ideas on who Dazai intends to give these flowers to. Maybe it was that brunette, with the blue eyes and charming demeanour? No… perhaps that blonde who had some strange obsession with alcohol, then?
“Chuuuuya!” Dazai gives him a sugar-sweet smile and it makes Chuuya want to wipe it off his face (by punching him, obviously).
“Getting flowers, I see,” Chuuya states, eyeing the combination of pink carnations and deep red roses.
“Didn’t you purchase a bouquet, too?” Dazai asks, gaze dropping down to the bouquet tucked safely under Chuuya’s arm.
“No, I received this,” Chuuya replies, pride dripping off his tone.
“Huh?! You got flowers, Chuuya?!”
“Hey! Don’t look so shocked, bastard!”
“All those years when we worked together, you never got flowers!”
“Well, not anymore,” Chuuya announces proudly, a hand on his hip.
Dazai thinks for a moment before replying. “Do you like them, then?”
“Huh, who?”
“The person who gave you flowers.”
Taken aback, he says “Huh, that never crossed my mind… Well, she’s pretty. Has a good fashion sense.”
“Would you date her, Chuuya?”
“Eeeehh, date her? Don’t know ‘bout that. Honestly, I’m just grateful for the flowers.”
A soft sigh escapes Dazai, and Chuuya almost fails to catch it.
“Oi, what are you sighing about?”
Dazai throws him a glance before looking away and letting out a laugh. “Nothing, just wondering if you plan to stay single for the rest of your life if this continues.”
“Of course not. It’s just…”
“Hmm?”
I can't imagine myself with anyone who's not you. Chuuya pushes that thought aside.
Chuuya stops to look at Dazai, before realising they’ve walked quite a distance. The sun has set and a blanket of darkness has enveloped the city. His stomach growls.
“Hungry, shorty?” Dazai asks teasingly.
Chuuya huffs, “Let’s go get some dinner.”
Any other day, Chuuya was a hundred percent sure Dazai would request to have some type of expensive steak or beef, but when Chuuya ask what he’d like to eat, all he got in response was a simple, “Oranges.”
“Normal people won’t have oranges for dinner.”
But Chuuya relented anyway, and bought some sandwiches along with four oranges from the mini-mart near them.
“Let’s go to Yokohama Port,” left Chuuya speechless; however, he trailed after Dazai anyway. This had been their dynamic the day their partnership began: Dazai led, Chuuya followed.
And although Chuuya was perfectly satisfied with crushing his enemies with gravity, a small voice in his head occasionally wishes to be the partner of the mastermind, helping Dazai improvise or work on his already elaborate schemes, not just his assistant who carries out the assassinations. Chuuya shuts this voice down most of the time, but some days it possesses his being, his head full of ‘what-ifs’.
They sit by the port side by side, the distinct and sweet smell of the orange filling the air as Dazai peels it open, splitting it into half. He pops one half into his mouth and offers the other to Chuuya.
Chuuya’s gaze travels from the orange to Dazai, who waits for him to accept it. Hesitantly, he picks it up from Dazai’s outstretched hand, their fingers brushing each other's for a moment. A jolt of electricity prickles Chuuya's skin as he mutters a soft, "Thanks."
The ocean is tranquil. The waves crash against sandy shores, only to recede and come back even stronger. A few ships are docked into the port, large crates of cargo stacked atop each other like building blocks.
“Are you going to tell me why you didn’t want to eat at some five-star restaurant yet?” Chuuya says, reaching for the second orange.
Dazai’s eyes are shut. His hair sways in the direction of the wind, and if he was a total stranger to Chuuya, he might’ve looked like a calm and ordinary civilian of the city.
Chuuya silently thought to himself that he would choose the Dazai he knew over a stranger any day, but he quickly got rid of that thought, discarding it like dandelion seeds in the wind, never to be seen again.
“No restaurants around here serve oranges for dinner.”
Chuuya tilts his head slightly to the left, his confusion visible.
Dazai meets Chuuya’s gaze, and Chuuya resents the fact that Dazai's eyes are clouded over by some unreadable emotion.
“Share an orange with me,” is all Dazai asks for. Chuuya is unable to pin down the exact reason why, but he does what is asked of him anyway.
He separates a single slice from the whole orange and hands it to Dazai.
“Stingy, are we now?”
Chuuya glares at him but his tone held mischievousness, “Don’t forget that I paid for this, bastard.”
Dazai throws him a smile. It's ninety nine percent insincere, with just maybe a sprinkle of gratitude hidden beneath the snarky surface.
“How does it taste?”
Dazai regards this question with a cocked eyebrow, and a smirk begins to form on his lips. Chuuya could practically see the wheels in Dazai's head working, slowly forming a new idea.
In one swift motion, he grabs Chuuya by the coat and pulls him close. So close that he can see a tint of red forming on Chuuya’s face.
“Only one way to find out.”
Chuuya doesn’t even get the chance to retort before he feels the sweet taste of the orange on his lips.
Dazai lets go of him, his smirk even wider than before. “Why so shocked, shorty? It is Valentine’s day, after all.”
“You haven’t kissed me since Christmas Eve.”
“Oh, you’ve been keeping track?” Dazai teases, never not amused by Chuuya getting annoyed with him.
“One day, I’ll kill you myself,” Chuuya replies.
Wordlessly, Dazai held out another slice of the orange to Chuuya. “Share this orange with me, Chuuya.”
Later, back in Chuuya’s apartment, Dazai places a bouquet of pink carnations and deep red roses into a vase. He smiles in satisfaction, before setting it down on the living room floor.
He pours himself a glass of water and sits on the sofa, eyes raking over every corner of Chuuya’s home. Someday, this might be his home too.
The clock strikes four. If memory serves him right, Chuuya got up at five on the dot. He had an hour. Dazai walked over to the shelf where there were more than thirty photo frames displayed.
Dazai found himself in a few of the photos, members of the Port Mafia took up the majority of them and one particular picture caught Dazai’s eye.
Yokohama Port had clearly been the main focus of the picture, but Dazai had photobombed probably at the very last minute, and it resulted in half of the port being covered by Dazai’s smiling face. He had his signature black coat on, which meant that this was taken back in their partnership days.
There was a timestamp on the bottom left of the photo, which read ‘14/2’. The very first Valentine’s they had spent together.
That day feels lightyears away. A lot has changed, so have Dazai and Chuuya. They’ll never be fifteen again and somehow, Dazai doesn’t feel any nostalgia for those simple days. He knows that his future Valentines’ will be filled with Chuuya, until the end of time.
And so it did.