Chapter 20: The Double Black
On a peaceful and ordinary afternoon, Chuuya Nakahara was busy working in his office.
At that moment, he was reviewing documents. The cold report paper rustled softly under his fingertips.
Then, he picked up some documents and began to read. But soon, he impatiently tossed them back onto the table. He pushed the table, causing the casters of his executive chair to move towards the area behind him. The metal legs of the table scraped loudly against the floor with the force of the push.
His mind wasn't just preoccupied with the mission report; it was also preoccupied with that bastard Dazai. As he thought about what Dazai had done these past few days, he felt not only his usual anger, but also a strange, inexplicable unease.
That "shadow"—something that Dazai Osamu had mentioned lightly—was like a pebble thrown into a pond, creating ripples in Chuuya Nakahara's heart, yet it never quite reached the bottom, its outline remaining unclear.
What on earth is Dazai up to? Nakahara Chuuya frowned as he thought this.
He was certain that Dazai Osamu was concealing some crucial information—about the shadow, and something that might be happening to him. When that man truly wanted to hide something, the precision of his methods and the cunning of his mind were such that even his partner, Nakahara Chuuya, couldn't pry open that solid disguise in a short time.
This feeling of powerlessness made him extremely frustrated.
What's more, when that jerk told him about the existence of the shadow, he added a sticky, cheesy comment: "This is, for now, a little secret just between Chuuya and me~"
In my memory, that bastard leaned slightly toward me, his iris-colored eyes curving into a mischievous arc, his pale, slender fingers pressed against his light-colored lips, making an almost ambiguous shushing gesture.
That deliberately drawn-out tone, like honey laced with poison, seeped into Chuuya's ears, sending a shiver down his spine. The emotions churning within him weren't exactly disgust or aversion, but rather a kind of unease born of being forced into a safer distance, mixed with wariness.
Zhong didn't know why this emotion came over him, and in the end he could only blame it on the fact that this guy had too weak a sense of boundaries and was too close, so close that he could almost feel the other's warm breath brushing against his cheek, carrying a faint... indescribable scent that belonged to [Dazai Osamu] himself.
Chuuya Nakahara instinctively took a step back, trying to create that uncomfortable distance.
However, his retreat seemed like a silent invitation. Almost the instant his heels touched the ground, Dazai Osamu precisely stepped forward, filling the subtle gap between them once more. His smile deepened, his eyes filled with a knowing, playful glint: "Why is Chuuya keeping backing away? Are you trying to distance yourself from me?"
Although he said those words, to Chuuya's ears, it sounded like he was saying how the distance between them was getting closer and closer.
"Damn mackerel! Since you figured it out, get the hell out of here!" Nakahara Chuuya was practically about to explode, yelling at Dazai Osamu's face. But to Dazai Osamu, it was just an amusing reaction of his anger and embarrassment, and the corners of his mouth curled up even higher.
A familiar anger of being tricked surged in Chuuya Nakahara's chest. Suddenly, a thought flashed through his mind: This was definitely Dazai's new prank, deliberately teasing him to make him angry and furious, just to see him in a fit of rage so as to satisfy his wicked taste.
The moment that thought crossed his mind, a stubborn, defiant spirit surged up, instantly dispelling his instinct to retreat. Since this bastard dared to press forward, he'd meet him head-on and see who would succumb to this suffocating close-quarters combat first!
Having made up his mind, Zhongyuan Zhong did not retreat any further. Instead, he suddenly leaned forward, his cobalt blue eyes sharply meeting those unfathomable pupils, carrying a provocative meaning.
If Dazai Osamu could see these thoughts swirling in Nakahara Chuuya's mind right now, he'd probably burst out laughing and immediately whip up a new headline: "Chuuya's Unyielding Spirit This Week." And if Nakahara Chuuya could foresee the consequences of the next few seconds, he'd likely turn and run without hesitation, even if Dazai Osamu mocked him as a coward afterward, rather than choose a suicidal counterattack.
Unfortunately, there are no "what ifs".
[Dazai Osamu] clearly hadn't expected Nakahara Chuuya to choose to retaliate this time. Before his forward momentum had completely stopped, Nakahara Chuuya had already crashed into him head-on. What Nakahara Chuuya didn't expect even more was that, faced with his unusual behavior, [Dazai Osamu] not only didn't retreat, but instead seemed to have been ignited by some strange competitive spirit, and even subconsciously moved forward a little more.
The result is obvious.
"Hmm!"
"Well!"
Two muffled groans sounded almost simultaneously. In the chaos, Dazai Osamu was completely thrown off balance by Nakahara Chuuya's forward momentum, and his entire body uncontrollably lunged towards Nakahara Chuuya. Nakahara Chuuya, due to the sudden shift of his center of gravity and the force of Dazai Osamu's fall, fell straight backward.
The impact of his back hitting the hard ground came. But the expected sharp pain in the back of his head did not come as expected—a cool hand, at the critical moment, steadily cushioned the back of his head, absorbing most of the impact.
Chuuya could even clearly hear the faint, teeth-grinding sound of the hand bone hitting the ground. He hissed in pain, but the discomfort from being pressed down on his body was far less than he had expected. [Dazai Osamu] This guy was much lighter than he had imagined, like a dried-out fish.
He struggled to get up, but found that Dazai Osamu had no intention of getting off him immediately. The bastard remained on top of him, his iris-colored eyes fixed on his face. To be precise, he was staring into his eyes.
That gaze was so focused it was almost eerie, as if he were admiring something incredible. The usual flippant or mocking expression on Dazai Osamu's face vanished, replaced by a pure, almost childlike curiosity and… indescribable astonishment. Although the other man showed no expression, Chuuya Nakahara strangely sensed a turbulent undercurrent beneath that calm surface—as if he had discovered something unexpected.
"Hey!" At that moment, Nakahara Chuuya felt extremely uncomfortable under his gaze, and a mix of emotions welled up inside him. He frowned, deliberately avoiding the scorching stare, and looked up at the sky, his voice filled with impatience, "Have you gone mad from the fall? How long are you going to lie there? Get off me, you bastard."
"Hmm...it should be Chuuya who got knocked out, right?" [Dazai Osamu]'s consciousness seemed to be suddenly pulled back from a distant place by his voice. The inexplicable emotion in his eyes instantly subsided, replaced by the familiar, nonchalant indifference. As he slowly propped himself up, he retorted in his usual casual tone, "It wasn't me who hit the back of my head."
"Huh?! You have the nerve to say that?!" Chuuya Nakahara jumped up, vigorously patting his dusty coat, and angrily pointed at the culprit, "If you hadn't been following me around like a ghost, this wouldn't have happened!"
[Dazai Osamu] patted the dust off his clothes, mimicking his actions, and put on an incredulous and aggrieved expression: "Blame Chuuya for suddenly falling towards me. If he had continued to back away like before, this would never have happened!"
"Damn you, Dazai!" Chuuya Nakahara's forehead veins bulged, and he threw a punch with a strong wind, but the other party easily dodged it.
"Chuuya, don't be so narcissistic," [Dazai Osamu] said casually, putting his hands back in his coat pockets and making a move to leave. "Why would I follow you? You're the one who's been blocking my way!"
Nakahara did not answer his question, but instead called out to him, "Stop."
[Dazai Osamu] paused, turning his head slightly.
"Hand," Chuuya Nakahara's voice was somewhat stiff as he looked at the other man's left hand hanging at his side, "let me see it."
Dazai Osamu's body seemed to stiffen slightly. He slowly turned around, and his iris-colored eyes widened slightly for a moment at those words, a complex and incomprehensible emotion flashing through them so quickly that Nakahara Chuuya thought it was an illusion.
He smirked, still with that smug tone, "Nothing's wrong, Chuuya. How could you possibly hurt me?" Despite his words, he obediently extended his left hand in front of Chuuya.
The area of his palm not covered by bandages was bright red, with some parts even slightly swollen, and the capillaries under the skin were clearly visible. Clearly, it was this hand that, in that critical moment, shielded Chuuya Nakahara's head from most of the damage; otherwise, Chuuya's head would certainly be hurting for a while now.
Chuuya Nakahara stared silently at the red, swollen patch, a slight jolt seeming to stir something deep within him. Somewhat awkwardly, he reached out a finger and cautiously touched the edge of Dazai's burning palm.
"...Thanks." The two words seemed to be squeezed out of his throat, carrying the awkwardness unique to Chuuya Nakahara. "...If it hurts a lot, remember to apply a hot compress." His gaze wandered around, but finally settled on Osamu Dazai's face.
In that instant, he saw Dazai Osamu's eyeballs seem to twitch extremely slightly, as if he were surprised, or perhaps it was just his imagination. He only heard the other say:
"Oh dear, caring for your dog is the duty of every responsible owner~" [Dazai Osamu] withdrew his hand, his fingertips curling slightly, and his voice returned to its usual tone, "So don't be too touched, it's all what I should do."
"You bastard Dazai!!!"
The memory abruptly ended.
At this moment, Chuuya Nakahara was standing in a conference room at the Port Mafia headquarters, holding a mission handover meeting with several executives. His partner, Osamu Dazai, was once again perfectly absent. It was easy to guess that the guy was probably somewhere in the city, perhaps by a river, preparing to achieve his ultimate life goal.
When the meeting ended and he was left alone in the large room, the brief respite he gained caused Chuuya Nakahara's thoughts to drift uncontrollably back to Dazai's image. He remembered that afternoon when they both wrestled, and the overly focused gaze Dazai Osamu had given him. Lately, a certain feeling had been growing stronger within him.
[Dazai Osamu] still seemed to be the same [Dazai Osamu], his tone of voice, his teasing methods, even that infuriating posture were exactly the same. But... something seemed different. A subtle, elusive sense of disharmony, like a grain of rice mixed in with the rest of the rice.
Was it the influence of that shadow? Or something else? A flash of inspiration crossed Nakahara Chuuya's mind. But he didn't grasp it, so he scratched his head in frustration. This feeling of almost figuring things out made him extremely annoyed.
"Ring ring—!"
A sharp, blaring communicator ring suddenly rang in Chuuya's ears, quickly pulling him back to reality. He answered immediately, and his subordinate's terrified voice boomed in his ears: "Chuu-Chuuya, it's terrible!! Dazai-he's climbed to the edge of the top floor of the headquarters building! It looks like he's going to jump—!!"
"What?! That idiot—!!" Chuuya Nakahara's pupils shrank, and a surge of anger instantly dispelled all his doubts. Before he could even end the call, he crashed through the tempered glass window of the conference room like an arrow. His dark red gravity ability instantly enveloped his entire body, transforming him into a streak of light that tore through the air, rushing towards the iconic skyscrapers of the Port Mafia.
Time seemed to stretch out. He could see the figure in the black coat in the distance, like a withered leaf about to be swept away by a gale, free-falling through the air.
"Dazai!!!" Chuuya Nakahara pushed his superpower to the limit, his speed soaring once again. In mid-air, he precisely targeted the rapidly falling figure, and instead of choosing a gentle cushion, he used his waist to deliver a powerful kick, infused with immense gravity, to Dazai Osamu's side.
"BOOM—!!"
The immense impact carried Dazai Osamu's body, making him like a human cannonball as he crashed diagonally into the reinforced glass curtain wall of a slightly shorter building next to him, shattering it. Accompanied by continuous cracking sounds and billowing dust, he slammed heavily against the hard interior wall before slowly sliding to the ground.
A flash of red light emanated from Chuuya Nakahara, and he followed closely behind. He flew in through the broken window, his boots clattering on the shards of glass. He strode towards the sand-colored figure huddled in the corner, his chest burning with rage, ready to grab the man by the collar and give him a good interrogation.
"Dazai! You bastard..."
The words came to an abrupt halt.
Dazai Osamu was seen leaning against the cracked wall, slowly and unsteadily trying to stand up. His movements were strangely sluggish and stiff, as if his body was an unwieldy tool. As he straightened up, his body swayed uncontrollably from side to side twice before he could barely maintain his balance.
He looked up at Chuuya Nakahara, who stood against the light amidst the broken curtain wall.
The room was dimly lit, with only the sunlight streaming in from the window and the cold light reflected off the broken glass illuminating a small area. Some of these points of light happened to fall into Dazai Osamu's raised eyes, forming tiny highlights at the edges of his iris-colored pupils.
However, deep within those eyes lay an emptiness and stillness, devoid of any emotion, with only a slight upturn at the corners of his mouth.
"Chuuya, you're here."
Then, he closed his eyes, for just a moment.
When those eyes opened again—
Everything has changed.
His head leaned back, his entire face hidden in shadow. The meaningless highlights reflected in his eyes disappeared completely due to the change in posture, and his pupils seemed to be soaked in the thickest ink, as black as the abyss itself, swallowing all the light around him.
He tilted his head slightly, and a hoarse voice, as if his vocal cords had been sanded, squeezed out intermittently from the slightly upturned corners of his mouth, somewhat unclear, as if he hadn't spoken in a long time:
"Naka...Hana...Ya...?"
The air suddenly froze.
The unfamiliar form of [Dazai Osamu] made Nakahara Chuuya suddenly realize something. His muscles tensed instantly, and his cobalt blue eyes widened in shock at what he had realized.
...Perhaps, the person he sees now is no longer the [Dazai Osamu] he once knew.
Those vague ideas about "shadows" transformed into tangible blades at that moment, piercing deeply into Chuuya Nakahara's nerves.
A note from the author:
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I look haggard, but I managed to update on time today.
Repaired
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