Allegedly, as the story goes, the night Dazai fled from the mafia, Chuuya opened up a bottle of 1889 Petrus in celebration.

But, most people beg to differ. The way Chuuya came in with puffy eyes the next day, kept snapping at everyone—could be blamed on a hangover, yes. Or the missing of his ex-partner.

But, alas, Chuuya’s walls are far too high now, and nobody but him truly knows what happened the night Dazai defected.

When Chuuya was fifteen, he felt like he had the world in his hands. He was a reckless teenager and made every mistake, yet his eyes remained fierce, burning with the determination to make a name for himself in such a tough industry as the Port Mafia.

And make a name, he did. Everyone loved Chuuya.

Except Dazai.

~~For the most part.~~

Every time they saw each other, Chuuya got the same rush he did when he first saw Dazai.

The same butterflies in his stomach and the burning tips of his ears—but he’s been better at hiding it since his teenage years. Luckily.

Of course, Chuuya was finally going out shopping (something he dreaded), and was walking through the grocery aisles, when he turned into one and caught a glimpse of some all-too-familiar brunet locks.

Annoying. Of course he’s here.

Chuuya chose to ignore the way his heart fluttered the same way it always did when their eyes met.