Nah, they'd just think it was hilarious I kept getting pranked by a traitor no matter how many burn numbers I get.
[Oh.... oh, that sure is an admission. Chuuya considers his words for a moment. He could be very mean here, but... Well it honestly was kind of pathetic, watching Dazai pine.]
It's possible your ideas of commitment are different, yeah, but I'm not sure about what that entails in terms of your wants. This is just a guess on my part, but for Dazai, sex is just sex. Commitment is emotional, I think.
I only know of one previous time Dazai was in love, but suffice to say he'd do absolutely anything for them.
he's not in love with me. [ that reply comes without second thought. ] fond, yes; familiar, perhaps. and i do not love him, he is familiar like another side of myself—i can talk to him without needing to explain everything, i can trust him to execute a plan right but love is devotion. it is sacrifice and commitment and forever.
it's an oath, like the ones you are familiar with. and a prayer that causes your voice to waver. it's not half of something or a shared thing. you know of the kind of emotion i speak of, don't you, chuuya-san?
I don't exactly have a lot of experience with romance, so fuck if I know. But I do know Dazai looks at you differently than anyone else, he considers your needs in a way he doesn't most people. it's affection, though I ain't the man to ask if you wanna know the depths of it.
[There were a lot of reasons Chuuya struggled with concepts of affection beyond giving it to those he cherished-- Those reasons obviously being what he was, who he was, but also how he'd grown up, who he'd made himself into.
But devotion? Devotion was the core of him, his blood and bones.]
Yeah, I do.
But I also know devotion comes in many forms. I'm devoted to Mori, to the Mafia, but I sure as fuck wouldn't kiss Boss. That'd be weird.
There's different kinds of devotion, and people show it differently too.
[ fyodor would very much like to point out that applies to chuuya more than himself. is dazai not living with chuuya? sleeps with him? is with him? he has no interest in inserting himself where he does not belong in such an intimate manner. he's not interested in being the third part of something incomplete.
if circumstances were different he would consider it but the more he thinks back on the kiss he shared with dazai and the choices he makes in this world, and who it seems he really belongs to—]
of course devotion is different. and that is the most horrifying image you have ever shared with me, chuuya-san, i must go wash my eyes out.
Ugh, now I need alcohol, because you've put it in my head!! Fucking hell!!
Do not drink fucking acid, just drink a bottle of vodka you drama queen. While you're at it, share some with me because you now owe me a drink for this shit.
[Ugh, he needs to forget this conversation ever happened just for that mental image!!!]
[ hesitation again, fyodor is clearly thinking over something. or plotting but when is he not? ]
you know the set of small houses near that atrocious statue place, yes? third door with the scuffed handle. beneath the stairs is a door, easy to miss.
[ when chuuya arrives he'll find said door halfopen, and fyodor waiting inside. it isn't much of a space really-there is only a circular window high up which provides a clear escape route. the stairs over the room creak whenever someone uses them, alerting fyodor to any movements in the house. there is a bed, neatly made and mostly unused, then a desk, two chairs and stacks of books and notes. nothing here is too important, the notes are clearly a sort of guidelines of this place fyodor has been working on in his spare time.
his ushanka is folded on top of a stack of books, and there is the bow of a musical instrument on the floor by the bed. the only thing that looks recent is how the chairs have been arranged and the two chipped teacups that will serve as glasses. the bottle is unopened and clearly expensive despite the rest of the room's things which probably are closer to garbage than anything.
[You know, he really shouldn't judge how a guy lives when he spent his childhood calling a dried out sewer tunnel 'home' but...
Damn. What the fuck? He's living like this willingly?
Chuuya looks around the dingy room from where he stands on the steps, the wood creaking ominously beneath his feet.]
You know, I'm pretty sure the inn isn't so crowded you couldn't find a place less likely to fall down around your ears if you sneezed too hard? But I guess this works.
[He'll take a seat in one of those chairs, quirking a brow at the strange dissonance between the teacups and the clearly pricey vodka.] Nice taste in booze, though.
[ he lives like this willingly and it's more presentable than his second hiding place. you got the tour of the luxury accommodations. the second place doesn't even have a bed. the second place is not even a room intended to be a bedroom but...no one is ever seeing that location.
fyodor looks up, gesture towards the chair as chuuya takes a seat and plays the part of perfectly polite host as if he's not in ...well, here. ] It would be rude to offer you anything else. [ he would offer it to anyone who he trusted enough to invite here, which honestly? not even a list of names. ]
The inn is also loud, out in the open, and thus an easy place to kill someone. [ he pours out a generous cup of vodka for both of them and then sits. ]
[Fyodor please, have some care for your own comfort??? At least bring in some bedding, damn. Chuuya's already memorized the location of this place and is planning to bring a few things over just so he isn't stuck thinking of the man living this pathetically.]
Well, you have my thanks for your hospitality. [He settles into his chair, quirking a brow as Fyodor pours.] Yha know, there are ways to make that a little less likely even in a crowded inn.
[he'll take the cup up, raising it in a toast.] Cheers. Or is it 'Nas Zdorovie'? Can't quite remember.
[ which, if he does, might cause fyodor a minor crisis or two because he expects nothing of the sort. he inclines his head. ] I am certain there are ways to do that but the risk is still high, especially given that we have no control as to who comes and what they remember when arriving.
[ fyodor raises his own, a small but genuine at the phrase. ] Close, it's vashe zdorov'ye, to your health, Chuuya-san.
[ because toasting to his own is simply a terribly ironic toast. down the vodka goes and he feels the warmth spread instantly. ]
[Too bad, Fyodor's gonna find a care package left here within a week.] Fair enough, I guess. But you could at least get a few throw pillows and a rug for your own comfort, if nothing else.
[There's clear humor in his tone, but in truth he does think the man could use a few more blankets.
He smiles at Fyodor at the toast, downing his own cup and savoring the quickfire burn of the alcohol.] Right, vashe zdorov'ye.
I'm afraid I don't speak Russian fluently, I just picked up a few things over the years. Languages are useful in the business.
[And as Kouyou had been delighted to discover, Chuuya had a knack for them as a teen.]
My own comfort? [ he looks momentarily perplexed about the notion of it before catching onto the joke, and fyodor offers: ] I suppose I could hide something under a rug with which to kill someone.
[ a half-questioning eye is kept on chuuya to see how he enjoys the vodka. as far as he knows the other drinks often, and prefers expensive drinks despite his seeming status as a lightweight. fyodor only notes to get water at some point from the sink upstairs. ] You have rather good pronunciation for not being fluent, picking it up wouldn't be difficult.
Japanese, French, English, what else do you speak?
Yeaaah, no I mean like... Something so you don't get splinters if you go barefoot down here. [Though maybe Fyodor is allergic to removing layers, who knows.
He hums in appreciation as he takes another sip. It's a nice, smooth burn.] Damn this stuff is good. Hits hard but hits nice.
[He's going to be absolutely drunk within a cup or three.] Keeping tabs on me huh? Besides those, I can speak a bit of Russian and just enough Mandarin to get by. I can parse a bit of a few others by ear, but not speak 'em. I can also read French and English, though the first was for personal reasons.
[He shrugs lightly.] Pretty damn good for a guy who's never gotten a school diploma of any level.
[ fyodor brings the cup to his lips, an amused smile hidden as he takes another long sip. he will wait until chuuya finishes his drink before refilling their glasses. ] I think it would be dishonest to pretend I don't have information on you that would technically count as a boundary violation.
[ a tilt of his head, because he's not even sorry for it. ] You have done pretty well for yourself, Chuuya-san. There is no need to be modest about your achievements.
Nikolai would accuse the school system of being an instrument against finding true will. [ fondness. ] I do not put much stock in it. Nor the way most institutions in the world work.
Well obviously. You've already made it clear you know stuff about me that the government would be very keen to keep from getting out. I'm guessing those were among the documents you nabbed from the mafia, and if that's the case thank you for killing that snake Ace. [He downs the rest of his shot with a pleased sigh. It says quite a bit about how tipsy he already is that he's not shy about thanking Fyodor for killing another executive.]
I just didn't expect that research to extend to what languages I speak. Not particularly useful to you, is it? [He waves his glass idly before offering it to Fyodor once more. There's already a slight flush to his cheeks.] And hell yeah I have. School is overrated. I don't need to know who the emperor was 200 years ago, what's that info gonna do for me? Learning what you want, what you need... that's stuff you can do on your own. I'm sure as hell sure you didn't learn half the shit you know in a school, am I right?
[Said with a small grin. Criminals like them had a very different set of priorities.]
You are welcome, it was rather amusing watching him do the deed himself. [ he looks entirely too pleased with having caused a man an unwilling suicide. ] But if you must know, the more sensitive parts of your story did not come from his files. Even the military only has bits and pieces though far more extensive.
[ truly, chuuya's past had been a hunting down of information across two continents but it had been required. still. he leans across and refills both of their cups, making sure to keep his hands clearly in view. there are no tricks here, no attempt to slip anything into his drink and such.
fyodor shakes his head. ] I could not picture you at a traditional school, you would have been a delinquent either way. [ teasing. ] My own schooling was religious in nature, so I do not find it entirely a waste.
[ religion is important to fyodor after all, no matter how twisted it is inside. did he go to school though? who knows. at least it seems like he's willing to pretend he has. ]
Huh. That’s good to know. When I became executive i made sure those files were relocated personally, y’see. [They’d been part of his promotion reward, after years of hard work. By then he’d no longer been so desperate for answers, but the information was still welcome.] So unless you can read minds, they’d be hard to find through that route.
[there’s probably a fair bit on him back in france, since Verlaine and Rimbaud had managed to find him to begin with, but— he’s been very careful with what information he has.
Chuuya lets out a chuckle before knocking back his glass with a smug look at Fyodor’s guess, because—] Absolutely. I’d have driven teachers mad. But you… I can’t guess if you were a model student, or the ‘model student’ who made plenty of trouble but just didn’t get caught.
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[Oh.... oh, that sure is an admission. Chuuya considers his words for a moment. He could be very mean here, but... Well it honestly was kind of pathetic, watching Dazai pine.]
It's possible your ideas of commitment are different, yeah, but I'm not sure about what that entails in terms of your wants. This is just a guess on my part, but for Dazai, sex is just sex. Commitment is emotional, I think.
I only know of one previous time Dazai was in love, but suffice to say he'd do absolutely anything for them.
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it's an oath, like the ones you are familiar with. and a prayer that causes your voice to waver. it's not half of something or a shared thing. you know of the kind of emotion i speak of, don't you, chuuya-san?
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[There were a lot of reasons Chuuya struggled with concepts of affection beyond giving it to those he cherished-- Those reasons obviously being what he was, who he was, but also how he'd grown up, who he'd made himself into.
But devotion? Devotion was the core of him, his blood and bones.]
Yeah, I do.
But I also know devotion comes in many forms. I'm devoted to Mori, to the Mafia, but I sure as fuck wouldn't kiss Boss. That'd be weird.
There's different kinds of devotion, and people show it differently too.
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if circumstances were different he would consider it but the more he thinks back on the kiss he shared with dazai and the choices he makes in this world, and who it seems he really belongs to—]
of course devotion is different. and that is the most horrifying image you have ever shared with me, chuuya-san, i must go wash my eyes out.
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[And he doesn't even want to imagine what Mori's type is, thank you very much. The man jokes about Elise, but he's pretty sure those are jokes.]
High proof alcohol works wonders, if you need it.
tw; substance abuse, self-harm
muriatic acid. nothing else will do for this cleanse.
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Do not drink fucking acid, just drink a bottle of vodka you drama queen. While you're at it, share some with me because you now owe me a drink for this shit.
[Ugh, he needs to forget this conversation ever happened just for that mental image!!!]
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[ but chuuya isn't wrong, fyodor does have a bottle of vodka stashed away. ]
i would prefer avoiding being inebriated in a public bar.
[ p a r a n o i d ]
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[He kind of doubts that Fyodor is that touchy.]
It doesn't have to be a bar. Is that a no, or a 'let me pick the place?'
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[ he lies, he wouldn't even be offended if a joke about that cocktail was made
there is a long pause. then:]
how good is your sense of direction?
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[Though he might be offended if Fyodor made it with milk-- He's a perfectly fine height, okay!!!]
Pretty good. You can't rely on maps all the time on the job. So where do you want me?
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[ hesitation again, fyodor is clearly thinking over something. or plotting but when is he not? ]
you know the set of small houses near that atrocious statue place, yes? third door with the scuffed handle. beneath the stairs is a door, easy to miss.
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Inside or outside?
[He's already on his way out, frankly looking forward to an excuse to drink.]
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[ when chuuya arrives he'll find said door halfopen, and fyodor waiting inside. it isn't much of a space really-there is only a circular window high up which provides a clear escape route. the stairs over the room creak whenever someone uses them, alerting fyodor to any movements in the house. there is a bed, neatly made and mostly unused, then a desk, two chairs and stacks of books and notes. nothing here is too important, the notes are clearly a sort of guidelines of this place fyodor has been working on in his spare time.
his ushanka is folded on top of a stack of books, and there is the bow of a musical instrument on the floor by the bed. the only thing that looks recent is how the chairs have been arranged and the two chipped teacups that will serve as glasses. the bottle is unopened and clearly expensive despite the rest of the room's things which probably are closer to garbage than anything.
yes bitch he does live like this.
you're welcome chuuya ]
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Damn. What the fuck? He's living like this willingly?
Chuuya looks around the dingy room from where he stands on the steps, the wood creaking ominously beneath his feet.]
You know, I'm pretty sure the inn isn't so crowded you couldn't find a place less likely to fall down around your ears if you sneezed too hard? But I guess this works.
[He'll take a seat in one of those chairs, quirking a brow at the strange dissonance between the teacups and the clearly pricey vodka.] Nice taste in booze, though.
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fyodor looks up, gesture towards the chair as chuuya takes a seat and plays the part of perfectly polite host as if he's not in ...well, here. ] It would be rude to offer you anything else. [ he would offer it to anyone who he trusted enough to invite here, which honestly? not even a list of names. ]
The inn is also loud, out in the open, and thus an easy place to kill someone. [ he pours out a generous cup of vodka for both of them and then sits. ]
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Well, you have my thanks for your hospitality. [He settles into his chair, quirking a brow as Fyodor pours.] Yha know, there are ways to make that a little less likely even in a crowded inn.
[he'll take the cup up, raising it in a toast.] Cheers. Or is it 'Nas Zdorovie'? Can't quite remember.
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[ fyodor raises his own, a small but genuine at the phrase. ] Close, it's vashe zdorov'ye, to your health, Chuuya-san.
[ because toasting to his own is simply a terribly ironic toast. down the vodka goes and he feels the warmth spread instantly. ]
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[There's clear humor in his tone, but in truth he does think the man could use a few more blankets.
He smiles at Fyodor at the toast, downing his own cup and savoring the quickfire burn of the alcohol.] Right, vashe zdorov'ye.
I'm afraid I don't speak Russian fluently, I just picked up a few things over the years. Languages are useful in the business.
[And as Kouyou had been delighted to discover, Chuuya had a knack for them as a teen.]
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[ a half-questioning eye is kept on chuuya to see how he enjoys the vodka. as far as he knows the other drinks often, and prefers expensive drinks despite his seeming status as a lightweight. fyodor only notes to get water at some point from the sink upstairs. ] You have rather good pronunciation for not being fluent, picking it up wouldn't be difficult.
Japanese, French, English, what else do you speak?
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He hums in appreciation as he takes another sip. It's a nice, smooth burn.] Damn this stuff is good. Hits hard but hits nice.
[He's going to be absolutely drunk within a cup or three.] Keeping tabs on me huh? Besides those, I can speak a bit of Russian and just enough Mandarin to get by. I can parse a bit of a few others by ear, but not speak 'em. I can also read French and English, though the first was for personal reasons.
[He shrugs lightly.] Pretty damn good for a guy who's never gotten a school diploma of any level.
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[ a tilt of his head, because he's not even sorry for it. ] You have done pretty well for yourself, Chuuya-san. There is no need to be modest about your achievements.
Nikolai would accuse the school system of being an instrument against finding true will. [ fondness. ] I do not put much stock in it. Nor the way most institutions in the world work.
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I just didn't expect that research to extend to what languages I speak. Not particularly useful to you, is it? [He waves his glass idly before offering it to Fyodor once more. There's already a slight flush to his cheeks.] And hell yeah I have. School is overrated. I don't need to know who the emperor was 200 years ago, what's that info gonna do for me? Learning what you want, what you need... that's stuff you can do on your own. I'm sure as hell sure you didn't learn half the shit you know in a school, am I right?
[Said with a small grin. Criminals like them had a very different set of priorities.]
tw; suicide mention
[ truly, chuuya's past had been a hunting down of information across two continents but it had been required. still. he leans across and refills both of their cups, making sure to keep his hands clearly in view. there are no tricks here, no attempt to slip anything into his drink and such.
fyodor shakes his head. ] I could not picture you at a traditional school, you would have been a delinquent either way. [ teasing. ] My own schooling was religious in nature, so I do not find it entirely a waste.
[ religion is important to fyodor after all, no matter how twisted it is inside. did he go to school though? who knows. at least it seems like he's willing to pretend he has. ]
Re: tw; suicide mention
[there’s probably a fair bit on him back in france, since Verlaine and Rimbaud had managed to find him to begin with, but— he’s been very careful with what information he has.
Chuuya lets out a chuckle before knocking back his glass with a smug look at Fyodor’s guess, because—] Absolutely. I’d have driven teachers mad. But you… I can’t guess if you were a model student, or the ‘model student’ who made plenty of trouble but just didn’t get caught.
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