A/N: First of all, I wanted to thank all my patient readers and everyone who reviewed on my story. Thank you all so much! I loved reading your reviews and I am glad you all like it! Thank you for your support. Secondly, I apologize for the super late update. My mom has been sick since October and we just found out in March that she has non-smokers lung cancer, so unfortunately, that means that updates will continue to be haphazard but I will be working on it.

Anyway! I hope you enjoy this chapter and leave reviews on your way out!

Just for a moment, as he hovered somewhere between unconsciousness and the waking world, Chuuya was at peace. He felt warm. Warmer than he could remember being for the past several days—when his thoughts filled him with ice and biting cold—and all his worries seemed so far away.

He vaguely remembered being upset about something. Something important. Something heart-shattereing.

Something that needed a more delicate hand than he was used to giving but in his half asleep state, none of that seemed to matter. He could just be, without the stress of his life getting in his way. Of course, as Chuuya had come to expect in his hard twenty-two years of life, tranquil feelings like that never lasted long.

He was brought out of his blissful peace by a pressing heat somewhere on his back. It wasn't painful or even necessarily unpleasant, but it's unusual presence woke him nonetheless. His mind started to clear and shattered all tranquility like a sledge hammer striking glass as memories came rushing back. With consciousness came awareness and Chuuya realized the warmth between his shoulder blades came from someone close behind him.

Looking over his shoulder, Chuuya saw Dazai curled against him, his head pressing into his back seemingly seeking comfort. The hot air from his deep breathing combined with the close contact seemed to be the cause of the heat on his back.

Chuuya was surprised Dazai had gotten so close to him. He never willingly made any physical contact in his sleep, not even accidentally. It just never happened. Chuuya had seen Dazai allow himself to freeze to the point of hypothermia without ever seeking warmth from another person. Even while he was sleeping and the natural reaction would be to gravitate towards heat sources, Dazai shied away from it. It was like he had some defense mechanism that made sure he never got too close. He just couldn't trust anyone enough to let them get close to him while he slept.

For him to be curled against Chuuya now was highly unusual, and yet, with everything that's been happening recently, it wasn't exactly surprising. Dazai knew, even subconsciously, that Chuuya wouldn't let anyone hurt him while he was so vulnerable. And as he slept, the only way for him to know Chuuya was still there was to get close, even as it went against everything he used to protect himself.

At the same time this proved to Chuuya that Dazai did still trust him—as much as Dazai could bring himself to trust anyone—it also saddened him. Dazai literally had to be going through hell before he let himself seek the comfort he so desperately needed and Chuuya's heart ached for him.

Chuuya sat up slowly, careful to not wake Dazai prematurely and took a moment to study Dazai while he was too unaware to wear a mask or put on a show.

In his sleep, Dazai's shields were down, completely exposing him to the world. In his sleep, Dazai couldn't evade scrutiny with witty comments or playful antics. In his sleep, Dazai looked haunted. The weight of years of harshness making an appearance on his young face. Light streamed through the window, emphasizing his too pale face bringing out the dark circles under his eyes with startling contrast, hinting at many long sleepless nights. Even through the layer of bandages, Chuuya could see the sharp lines of his collar bones, emphasizing just how thin the taller man was. He had gained some weight since joining the Armed Agency but it was still too few. If Chuuya had had any doubt Dazai was still suffering from his father's cruel experiment of starvation, it was now gone.

All of these were clear signs something was seriously wrong that Chuuya should have noticed and questioned years ago. Maybe not when they had first met—Dazai had been so obnoxious back then—but he should have noticed when he had learned to tolerate him better. Especially since they spent most of their time together with all the missions they got assigned.

Now that he thought about it, it wasn't often that Chuuya actually saw Dazai sleeping and if he did, it was usually because Dazai had gotten himself hurt again. On missions, he would always go to bed later than Chuuya and wake up earlier than him. Half the time, Chuuya thought he didn't sleep at all. But there were times when Chuuya was woken by soft unidentifiable noises in middle of the night and he saw how restless Dazai seemed. Like even in his dreams, he could never relax.

At the time, Chuuya just brushed it off, assuming Dazai was only scheming more ways to make his life miserable and didn't bother taking a closer look. But even then, sometimes he would notice how exhausted Dazai appeared in the mornings. How he seemed to curl into himself and his mind seemed a million miles away. At those moments, Chuuya allowed himself to be concerned, if only a little, and he did everything in his power to distract the younger boy. Get him out of his head and forget whatever it was that pulled him in.

Now that he had an idea what those dreams were about, Chuuya wished he had tried harder and cared enough to ask. How Dazai was able to hide what was apparent in his sleep everyday told Chuuya that Dazai had a lot of practice in making people forget how unhealthy—how thin and tired and empty—he looked or that they even cared in the first place.

Even as Chuuya nagged constantly about how Dazai needed to eat more, how he looked like a stiff wind could blow him over, Dazai could somehow laugh it all off and turned the conversation in another direction before Chuuya even knew what happened. It wouldn't be until later, when Dazai was off somewhere else and Chuuya entered his Mafia-appointed apartment for the night, that he remembered he had been trying to get Dazai to eat something. And that he hadn't seen him eat for days.

And now, all those masks and evasions and facades were no where to be seen. Washed away in sleep and utter exhaustion. Chuuya refused to look the other any longer. He refused to just stand by as Dazai destroyed himself with neglect and self-hatred. He would do whatever it took to get Dazai through this, no matter how long that took.

And that meant he first had to get Dazai to eat.

With that in mind, Chuuya quietly got up from the futon. Noticing the light still coming from the lamp, Chuuya turned it off. He watched Dazai's face to make sure the slight darkening of the room didn't disturb him. When he saw no adverse reaction, Chuuya pulled away, thankful for the sun's comforting presence for Dazai.

With one last look back at Dazai, Chuuya ambled his way into Dazai's barren living room, shutting the door behind him. He walked through the kitchen, checking every cabinet, drawer, and cupboard for signs of food. When he checked the fridge and still didn't find anything, he knocked his head against the fridge door and exhaled a deep sigh as he closed his eyes in frustration.

"Of course," Chuuya let out another agitated breath, "Why did I expect him to have anything here?"

Chuuya was drawn away from his self-recrimination by a polite knock on the door. Looking over, he furrowed his brow, wondering which Agency member it could be. Before he could think on it too long, a muffled voice carried through the door over to him.

"Dazai, are you in there? How are you doing?"

'Ah, it's the were-tiger Akutagawa was always going off about,' Chuuya thought, pulling himself away from the fridge.

Scratching the back of his head, Chuuya headed for the door, for once not caring he was only in a yukata and not exactly up to his own standards of presentability. He abruptly pulled the door open, revealing both Atsushi and Kyouka, shock falling over their faces at his unexpected appearance.

Chuuya made a quick note of Kyouka, happy to see her looking so well. The Agency had been good for her, Kouyou would be glad to hear it. She had been worried since Kyouka left and even though Dazai had promised she'd be fine, Kouyou couldn't help being concerned about the young girl.

Folding his arm loosely, Chuuya leaned against the door frame, expression level as he looked at them, questioningly, "Yeah? What do you want?"

Snapping out of his shock, Atsushi started sputtering, "Wha-whe-ho-? What are you doing here?! Where's Dazai?! Did you hurt him?!"

Grimacing, Chuuya put a finger in his ear to block out the sound of Atsushi's yells, "Quiet down, will ya? You're giving me a headache."

"Where's Dazai?!" Atsushi asked again, panic overtaking him as he no doubt imagined many horrible things Chuuya had done to his mentor.

"Calm down. Dazai's sleeping in his room. You'll wake him up with all the noise," noticing the groceries in Kyouka's hands, Chuuya nodded towards them, "That for Dazai?"

Eyes still wide in surprise, Kyouka looked down at the bag in her hands before looking back at Chuuya with her no-longer-icy blue eyes. She nodded in affirmation, and with her soft voice said, "Yes, we try to make Dazai breakfast everyday before work."

A small smile made its way onto Chuuya's face, 'So they really do care about the mackerel, after all.'

"Great," Chuuya said as he reached out, grabbing the bag from her and proceeded towards the kitchen to put the items on the counter.

Atsushi and Kyouka shared a stunned look before turning their attention back to the Mafia Executive. Cautiously, they followed Nakahara into the apartment, watching with confusion as the man pulled ingredients out of the bag and started rummaging through cabinets to pull out pans.

Nakahara... was not what Atsushi expected.

He wasn't anything like what Atsushi had come to expect from the Port Mafia. He wasn't like Akutagawa, all snarls and anger and hate. Though from what Dazai said about the man on the rare occasion he brought up his past in the mafia, he thought he'd look... angrier. Always with a perpetual scowl on his face and scathing words on his tongue. Atsushi had gotten the impression that Chuuya—as Dazai liked to call him with glee in his eyes—was just an older version of Akutagawa.

The man in front of him seemed none of those things.

Nakahara looked calm as he chopped the vegetables and meat with remarkable skill. His face was smooth of any signs of the temper Dazai spoke of but as Atsushi looked closer, he noticed he was a little red around the eyes. Like he had been crying. He also looked as though he hadn't been sleeping well and judging by his yukata and disheveled hair, he had slept at Dazai's apartment last night.

Biting his lip, Atsushi looked at Kyouka again, hoping she would have some idea of what was going on. She seemed to understand and chose that moment to speak up.

"Chuuya," she started with her soft voice, surprising Atsushi with the familiarity she seemed to have with the executive by using his first name, "What are you doing here? Is Dazai okay?"

Chuuya put the chopped vegetables and meat into the pan, bringing it to the stove before turning back towards the children. He raised an eyebrow at them as he leaned back against the countertop.

"I told you he was in his room. I didn't hurt him, if that's what you're asking," Chuuya stated, watching them with his red-rimmed blue eyes.

"No, I.. I didn't mean that," Kyouka said, stepping closer to the kitchen island separating them with imploring eyes, "You look upset, is all."

Atsushi wondered what sort of relationship the two of them had when Kyouka was trapped in the mafia. He thought she had just been close to Kouyou.

Chuuya let out a coarse laugh, shaking his head in derision as a crooked smirk made its way onto his face, "That's an understatement."

He paused for a moment, the smirk falling off his face as fast as it had come, "Yesterday... I had to stop another of Dazai's suicide attempts. It's been four years since I last saw him. Since I last had to stop him from hurting himself and still it's the same song and dance. But now... now I finally know why he does it."

Atsushi's mind came an abrupt halt. Dazai had tried to kill himself again and Atsushi had no idea. He wasn't there to stop it. If Nakahara hadn't come along... Dazai would be dead right now and no one would have been around to prevent it.

They were all so worried about finding the mastermind behind the photos so he wouldn't hurt Dazai again that they forgot Dazai was just as likely to hurt himself.

It was Kyouka who made the connection first and her hesitant voice drawn Atsushi out his growing horror.

"You saw the pictures. Didn't you, Chuuya?" Her voice was quiet, filled with the same horror as Atsushi as he thought back to the horribly graphic images. He had to push back the growing bile to keep from vomiting right then and there.

Nakahara's azure eyes hooded instantly at the mention, his voice rough as he answered, "Yeah... I did. Dazai brought them over a couple weeks ago. Thought the boss had something to do with it."

With the next words, the Mafia executive's face darkened and Atsushi got the first glimpse at the furious anger Dazai claimed Nakahara was capable of, "Even worse than that, I saw the journals and the videos. What kind of sicko makes torture videos?"

Disgust oozed off of the redhead's voice and Atsushi was surprised at the genuine anger and concern on behalf of Dazai. Once again, his thoughts on the Port Mafia was wrong. He didn't think anyone there cared about Dazai... well, except Akutagawa in his weird, obsessive way.

And then Nakahara's words really registered in his unusually slow thinking processes. Suddenly feeling impossibly cold, Atsushi asked, "Wait, did you say... videos?"

The stormy expression remained on the shorter man's face as he nodded, "Akutagawa and I found a whole box full of them back at the base. You're Dazai's friends. I thought you should know."

There was a indistinguishable roaring in Atsushi's ears as he pulled out his phone. With numb, trembling fingers, Atsushi sent a grim message to Kunikida.

[Kunikida. Nakahara is at Dazai's apartment. He says there are videos of Dazai being tortured. Please, come quick.]

She knew she should sleep. She knew that sitting here staring at the same thing for days on end wouldn't solve anything. It wouldn't undo what had happened. It would't make it any less real or any less terrible.

She knew this.

But it seemed impossible to tear her eyes away. She couldn't help but think that if she only looked long enough the answers would come to her and she would finally be able to help in some tangible way.

But everything was just too horrible and no amount of wishing or praying could change that.

Yosano sat in a disheveled slump on the floor of her Agency-administered apartment. Dozens of nightmare-inducing photograph surrounded her, spread out so that each picture was in grisly focus. The longer she looked at them, the clearer it became how completely out of depth she was for this.

Physical wounds she can fix, no problem. Even with the unfortunate effect Dazai's ability had on her own, she had been trained with enough medical knowledge to get by without simply relying on her ability. But not only were these wounds old—far, far too late to heal—they were too brutal to not leave serious mental scars as well.

And those... those were the kind of wounds she couldn't even hope to heal. That, she also knew. And it killed her.

But Yosano would not give up. If she couldn't heal Dazai's emotional scars—couldn't ease the nightmares or make Dazai see that none of this was his fault—the least she could do was find out what has caused him lasting damage. And maybe then she could help him not be in pain anymore.

If she could at least do that much, they could work on the rest of it together. If Dazai could trust her to, that is.

Loud pounding filled her small apartment, startling her enough she accidentally sent photos flying in her surprise. Cursing softly, Yosano stood up, half heartedly brushing off her clothes and straightening out her hair before heading to the door. By the time she started walking to her door, the pounding had become frantic and she heard Kunikida from the other side.

"Yosano, are you in there?! Yosano, please, its urgent!"

With her panic rising at the hurried voice of Kunikida, she quickened her pace, pulling the door open as fast as she could, not caring as it banged against the wall.

"What, Kunikida? What is it? What's wrong?" Yosano's brow furrowed anxiously as she watched Kunikida pull his fist back abruptly when he noticed the door was no longer there.

He took a moment to catch his breath before pushing up his glasses, "Atsushi just texted me. Chuuya Nakahara is in Dazai's apartment right now. He said there weren't only photos... There are videos, as well."

Yosano's eyes widened in horror at the revelation. As if the pictures weren't enough, she couldn't imagine the horrors a video would contain. She hurried back into her room and pulled on her shoes, sparing a glance at the photographs before following Kunikida back to Dazai's room.

Chuuya worked methodically on the food, pretending he hadn't noticed Atsushi send a text with his phone. Honestly, he would be more concerned if the kid hadn't contacted other agency members. You don't just leave a known enemy unchecked in the apartment of one of your own. Even if said enemy showed no signs of becoming violent. It just wasn't good sense and he would question whether it really was safe to leave Dazai in their care if they didn't take even the simplest of precautions. He knew Dazai could take care of himself normally. For the most part, anyway, but now... Now he didn't think Dazai would even try. And he needed all the help he could get at the moment.

As Chuuya took the food off of the stove he dished out four servings, being extra generous with Dazai's helping. Since the kids had brought the food in the first place, he least he could do was be considerate and make food for them. Once that was done, he set aside the food and once again leaned back against the adjoining counter, waiting for them to either speak or for whoever they had texted to come barging in.

The kids had gone quiet after he told them about the videos and who could blame them? The photos were bad enough, but videos? That opened a whole other box of horrors. He wished he'd never seen it but well... at least now someone knew and if it had to be anyone, Chuuya was glad it had been him. Then whole experience had been quite a shock for Akutagawa though. He had been pretty subdued these last couple weeks and Chuuya sympathized. He really did.

It was hard learning that the person you looked up to—the person you idolized—was more broken than you were.

Just as the silence started becoming awkward between the three of them, loud footsteps were heard beyond the door to the hallway. It surprised no one when, in the next moment, the door slammed open, revealing a harried Kunikida. Yosano appeared at the door in a much more sedate pace, but her expression betrayed her worry. Whether that worry came from Chuuya's presence or not remained to be seen.

Kunikida caught his breath quickly as he looked around the room, no doubt looking for signs of Dazai. Not seeing him, his face turned stormy as he instead locked eyes with Chuuya. He stomped into the room, fists clenched tightly and came to a stop directly across from the mafia executive in front of the counter. The shorter man had straightedges up to his full height as Kunikida approached, keeping his expression neutral and unbothered, his posture unconcerned.

It wouldn't be a good idea to start a fight right now. Not when there were far more important things to worry about.

"Where's Dazai?" Dazai's new partner ground out, his teeth clenched as he, too, was seemingly trying to keep his temper in check.

Chuuya sighed heavily, "How many times am I gonna have to answer that question? As I told the kids, he's sleeping in his room, though I'm not sure for much longer with all the racket you've been making. Do you even know how to be quiet. I mean, geeze, you couldn't be any louder if you tried."

...So much for not picking a fight.

He wasn't sure why he said that. He had intended to play nice so he could explain the situation calmly to the Agency, but something about the man just irritated him. Chuuya tried not to think too hard about why that was because he was too old to be jealous about Dazai's new partner. And too practical to be comparing the ways in which they were similar.

Damn. Why did Dazai always have to have angry partners? Chuuya felt like the world was laughing at him.

Kunikida's eyebrow twitched and he took a menacing step towards Chuuya before Yosano stopped him with a hand on his shoulder. He didn't acknowledge her, though as he continued to try to glare holes into Chuuya.

"What gives you the right to be here?" The words were spoken evenly but they sent a sharp jolt down Chuuya's spine, "What gives you the right when the mafia is the cause for all of this? Where do you get off pretending that you care about Dazai when the mafia has completely destroyed him? You have no right to come here now and act like you know anything about what's good for him. Dazai doesn't need you around to screw things up for him and mess with his head!"

Anger consumed Chuuya at each hateful accusation. Every word sent waves of it throughout his entire body, filling every pore, every muscle, every tendon until Chuuya was thrumming with it. But this anger was different than he was used to. It didn't burn him with its raging fire, clouding his mind and eating away at his judgement until the was nothing left but blazing all-consuming fury.

This anger came to him as frigid, bone-chilling cold. Intense and bitter and overwhelming. It froze the blood flow in his body, bringing everything into stark clarity. Instead of overriding his judgement like he was used to when he was angry, it enhanced it, allowing him to find words that would hurt and cut and shatter.

This anger was reminiscent of Dazai, and how he could completely destroy someone by simply using the right words. And Chuuya used this new cold, freezing anger because he would not stand here and listen to someone accuse him of not caring when they knew nothing. Nothing about Chuuya or even about Dazai. Because Dazai had tried so hard to hide the worst parts of himself from the Armed Detective Agency. The parts of him that hurt himself and doesn't know how to stop. Chuuya could tell, just by the way they act around Dazai. They had no idea how truly broken he was. None of them had any idea just how much Dazai didn't want them to see.

With ice in his eyes and glare cold enough to freeze someone in their tracks, Chuuya stared Kunikida down. When he spoke, his words cut without mercy.

"What do you know about Dazai? Huh?" Chuuya watched as Kunikida's glared faltered slightly, losing some of his conviction in the accusing words he had just spat at Chuuya as he pressed on, "Did you know the reason he always tries to kill himself by drowning is because he can't swim? Or that he tried to do it yesterday and you weren't there to stop it?"

Kunikida flinched horrible at the words, taking a step back as though that would protect him from the onslaught of heartrending words. "How about the fact that Dazai is completely blind in his right eye, no vision in it at al? Did you know that?"

Chuuya's face suddenly crumpled, his gaze dropping and instead of anger, sadness shined in his cerulean orbs. When he spoke again, his voice came out more as a haunted half-whisper than anything else, "Have you every held him for hours just so he wouldn't hurt himself? Or begged him to eat after watching him wither away because he wouldn't care for himself?"

Chuuya reinforced his glare tenfold and brought his gaze back to Kunikida's shocked hazel ones. He saw the pain filling in his eyes. The guilt and remorse. The horror dawning on his face. But he wouldn't relent now, not after Kunikida told him he didn't care.

"How about why he left the mafia? Do you even know what caused him to leave the only place he knew in the first place? You don't, do you? Because you never bothered to ask. You didn't care. To you, he was only a nuisance with an obsession for suicide. I bet you never took that seriously either, did you? It was all just one big joke to , it never was for me. So don't me I don't have the right. I have more right than any of you."

Stunned silence permeated throughout the room at the end of Chuuya's angry litany. No one dared to so much as breath too loudly as though they were afraid it would set him off on another tongue lashing. Chuuya didn't even have enough energy to feel smug about it. He was too emotionally drained and there was nothing to be satisfied with in this situation.

He looked out at the Agency and all he saw was how much this was hurting them too. At some point during his rant, Kyouka had moved closer to Atsushi, grabbing onto his sleeve in hope it would bring her some comfort and Atsushi looked as though his favorite dog had just been ran over by a bus. Both of them were crying. Dazai's doctor friend bit hard enough into her lip it drew blood, her expression was tight and she looked like she was trying not to join the kids in their waterworks. And Kunikida... all color had drained from his face, leaving every emotion available for Chuuya to read like an open book.

Sighing deeply, Chuuya ran his fingers through his unkempt hair, trying to release any remaining tension he felt.

"Look, I'm not here to fight. All I want is to help Dazai, like you, okay?" Chuuya got a stiff nod in answer and he nodded back, "Okay. Good."

Another awkward moment passed before Yosano pulled herself together enough to say, "Atsushi said something about there being... videos. Is that correct?"

Chuuya's attention snapped towards Yosano and he saw Atsushi fidget from the corner of his eye. The kid obviously thought Chuuya was going to get upset at him for telling his coworkers about that. Luckily for him, Chuuya had wanted him to do that from the beginning. It was much easier than tracking them down himself.

Damn, he really had to stop getting distracted. Nothing was going to make this easier so he might as well get it over with as soon as possible.

Chuuya sighed again, grabbing the counter in front of him and slumping forward as though everything had suddenly become too much to bear. Morosely, he said, "Yeah, that's right. I found a whole box full of videos and journals in the mafia records. I could only get through one of the tapes. It was... it was horrible. His father was a real piece of work, the sadistic bastard."

"You knew it was his father?" Atsushi couldn't help but blurt out, blushing fiercely but resolute in his question.

Atsushi still couldn't believe Dazai's own father did that to him. He heard that fathers were supposed to care about their children. They were supposed to protect them and keep them safe from harm, not torture them themselves. They weren't supposed to be like the Orphanage Headmaster.

Chuuya looked up from the counter and his piercing sapphire eyes locked with Atsushi's heterochromatic ones. Atsushi tried not to flinch under their fiery depths as he waited for an answer.

"I didn't know, at first," Chuuya started, clicking his tongue as he noticed the food was getting cold and moved to warm them up, "I didn't even realize that was the old boss, that was before my time there. The boss told me after Dazai showed up, demanding answers. He thought Mori sent the photos since he was the only one who knew about, you know... everything."

"Did Mori have anything to do with it?" Yosano asked, anger building as she thought about the other doctor. If he had anything to do with those photos... he would not enjoy what came next.

Chuuya shot her a sharp look, pursing his lips in order to hide an instinctual snarl at the implied threat to the boss as he answered, "No. He didn't. Boss was just as surprised as the rest of us at seeing the photos. I haven't even told him about the videos yet... I thought you should know first. You are the ones watching out for Dazai now."

At the last sentence Chuuya shot a pointed look at Kunikida as he set the last plate back on the counter, still upset at their earlier conversation. Kunikida swallowed but did not look away. He may not have been there for Dazai in the past, he may have made assumptions and accusations without knowing the full—or even really part of the story—but he would rectify that, adjust his viewpoint and not make the same mistakes again.

He nodded stiffly at Chuuya and before anything could be said between the two, Yosano cut in.

"And where is the... the box now? I assume you have it," Yosano asked haltingly, unsure is she actually wanted to see them for herself. If Chuuya Nakahara—best martial artist, one of the five executive of the Port Mafia, and former partner of the Demon Prodigy—was this shaken by what he had seen in them, she could only imagine how terrible it would be.

She had just been pouring over the photos, gruesome and ghastly and grim as they were, and Yosano didn't think she was ready for more. She didn't blame Chuuya one bit for his hesitance.

"It's back at my apartment. I'll bring it over to the Agency later and then we'll see about watching the rest of those videos," as Chuuya finished speaking, a crash was heard coming from Dazai's room, followed by half-hearted grumbling, "Looks like Dazai's up."

The sound of a door opening made it's way to the kitchen and everyone's attention fell on the door as Dazai walked out. He looked even more disheveled than Chuuya. His yukata was crumpled and low on one of his shoulders, revealing his bandaged wrapped torso down to his abdomen. The wrappings had loosened a little during his sleep and seemed to be coming undone at the neck, but not enough to reveal the skin underneath. He was yawning and rubbing one of his dark-circled eyes in an attempt to banish sleep from them before noticing he had an audience of more than just Chuuya.

Dazai immediately blanched, becoming even more pale than he already was. He quickly pulled his yukata tight around his frame even though nothing was showing in the first place and rushed to the bathroom. They heard the door slam before a very audible sound of the door locking.

Chuuya let out a deep exhale, pushing Atsushi and Kyouka's respective plates in front of him. He picked up a fork and started eating, "You may as well eat that now. Dazai's not gonna come out for a long while."

Feeling suddenly out of place that it was clear there was no danger and Chuuya had agreed to bring the box to them when next they met, Yosano tapped Kunikida's shoulder and indicated towards the door. Kunikida nodded at the doctor before turning back towards back towards Chuuya.

Clearing his throat, Kunikida stated as normally as he could manage, "Well, Mr. Nakahara, seeing as you seem to have things... handled here, Doctor Yosano and I will be on our way. I leave Dazai in your care."

Kunikida bowed as rigidly and formally as possible. Chuuya waved a dismissive hand at Kunikida, attention still focused on his food, "Yeah, whatever. You do that."

Sparing one last glance for Atsushi and Kyouka as they cautiously started eating the food prepare for them by a Port Mafia Executive, Kunikida turned on his heel and let the apartment behind.

A/N: For some reason, I have a hard time writing Kunikida. He is not a type of character I am used to writing but hopefully I didn't make him too out of character. Until, next time!