Despite how beautiful France’s countryside was, after almost a month in that country with little knowledge of the language and money worked, it was easy to say Chuuya was more than ecstatic to get back to his penthouse in Yokohama.

Maybe have a long, hot shower, indulge in a few glasses of his favorite wine which he had purchased before he left, then cook dinner—

…

Great.

As soon as Chuuya stepped through the threshold from the hallway into his penthouse, he saw an all-too-familiar brunet’s coat thrown haphazardly on the floor.

Chuuya grimaced, bending down to snag the coat and placing it on the hangers by the door, which he quickly followed with his hat and his own jacket.

“If you’re going to break in, you could at least be courteous, and hang up your damn coat!” Chuuya shouted into the darkness of his apartment.

Of course Dazai knew he was coming home today.

Just peachy.

Now his intricately planned, relaxing night was foiled.