The fight started small. Chuuya was too tired, too stressed, and his patience snapped before he could stop himself.

“If you don’t like it, then get out!”

The words echoed in the hallway as the door slammed behind you. He didn’t chase after you—he just dropped onto the couch, head in his hands, thinking he needed silence.

Outside, the rain poured. You didn’t run, didn’t go anywhere. You sat on the porch, knees pulled to your chest, letting the storm soak through your clothes. The familiar sting of being unwanted, of being pushed out into the cold, carved into your chest. Just like before. Just like with the parents who’d abandoned you.

Hours later, the door creaked open again. Dazai stepped in with an umbrella, shaking off water, humming lazily. Until he saw you.

“Belladonna?!” His voice cracked as he rushed over, kneeling down. You were shivering violently, lips pale. “God—what happened to you? Why are you outside?”

“Chuuya told me to leave…” Your voice trembled, too soft, but Dazai heard it. His jaw clenched.

By the time he scooped you into his arms, the front door slammed again—Chuuya walking into the room, rubbing at his eyes, irritation still lingering. Until he froze. You were in Dazai’s arms, soaked through, trembling, fragile.

Dazai’s voice was a whip. “Do you even realize what you’ve just done?”

Chuuya’s stomach dropped. He stepped forward, hands hovering. “Wait—I didn’t mean— I thought she’d just walk it off—”

“Walk it off?!” Dazai’s eyes blazed. He adjusted you in his arms protectively, keeping you away from Chuuya. “She’s not just some kid you can shove out the door, Chuuya. You know what her parents used to do to her. You know they’d throw her out in the rain like trash!”

Chuuya’s entire body froze. His breath caught in his throat, chest squeezing so tight it hurt.

“You promised her she’d never feel that again,” Dazai hissed, his voice trembling with restrained rage. “And what did you just do? You became them.”

Chuuya staggered back a step, horror filling his eyes. “No—don’t say that. I’m not— I swore I’d never—” His voice cracked. He dropped to his knees, clutching at his hair. “God, sweetheart, I’m sorry. I wasn’t thinking. I was exhausted, but that doesn’t matter. I hurt you in the one way I swore I never would.”

Dazai’s expression softened only slightly, but his tone stayed sharp. “She trusted us. Both of us. She’s ours now, Chuuya. Not theirs. If you can’t protect her from the storm outside, at least don’t be the storm inside.”

Tears burned Chuuya’s eyes as he reached for your freezing hand. He pressed it against his forehead, shaking. “Please, baby… don’t believe I’m like them. Don’t believe I’d ever throw you away. I’ll spend the rest of my life proving it.”

That night, you lay wrapped in blankets, fever creeping into your skin. Dazai spoon-fed you soup, murmuring softly, while Chuuya sat at your side with his head bowed low, whispering apology after apology.

And every so often, Dazai would look at him—not with his usual teasing, but with quiet weight. “Don’t forget this, Chuuya. She’s not their daughter anymore. She’s ours. You don’t ever get to make her feel like she’s back in that house again.”

Chuuya nodded every time, broken and guilty, holding your hand like it was the only thing keeping him alive.