A Bitter Cage // Kunizai, Bungo Stray Dogs

xii

Dazai had dreamed a thousand times of what it would be like to hurt Mori. He wanted to paint him as purple as his venomous eyes. He wanted to feel every bone break one by one. He wanted to hear the muscles tear, watch the blood flow.

It was his most nauseating daydream. Not for the gore, which was nowhere as intense as his suicidal longings, but because nothing terrified Dazai more than the thought of hurting Mori. He'd been trained to, above all else, protect his master. He really was a lapdog.

But Mori had been the reason Dazai had gotten stuck in the mafia, the person who threatened Chuuya whenever Dazai thought about leaving. He was the reason Chuuya was dead, and the reason Kunikida might be soon as well.

Dazai's fingers had gone numb as he stared at Kunikida and nodded. He would disobey every ounce of reinforcement that had made him behave so well. He would do what he had to, because he was looking at Kunikida Doppo.

Kunikida was golden, heroic with his wire gun and the new mastery over his gift. He was made to save lives, not take them. He didn't deserve to have blood on his hands.

So Dazai would take it all.

As Elise charged Kunikida, Dazai pulled himself to his feet. Mori glanced at him, a sudden look of concern highlighting his profile. Mori wasn't excellent at fighting, but he had enough experience Dazai normally would have expected it to take at least a few minutes to beat him.

Ten seconds.

Ten seconds and the feel of blood on his cheek.

Ten seconds and his hands were slick, a scalpel stolen from Mori's pocket dropping to the floor.

Ten seconds and Dazai had killed the boss of the Port Mafia.

Ten seconds after he'd stood up, and Dazai was kneeling before Kunikida, his entire body shaking.

"I'm sorry," he said. "I know you didn't want anyone to die."

But Kunikida's eyes were soft, not angry. "I know you killed him so I wouldn't have to. Thank you, Dazai."

"Call me Osamu." Even Chuuya hadn't used Dazai's first name. "I like you too much to be formal with you, Doppo."

And somehow, in the blood-splattered hell of Mori's chambers, Dazai saw someone smiling from happiness. Kunikida – Doppo – beamed at him, and suddenly he knew it was all going to be okay. His harsh rejection of Kunikida's feelings didn't matter, the fact that he was still flecked with Mori's blood didn't matter, and the fact that he was a broken ex-mafioso certainly didn't matter.

Doppo was happy, and Dazai was in love.

Kunikida hadn't expected that it would be easy to walk out of the Port Mafia headquarters quite literally covered with the blood of their leader, but it was.

No one was going to get in Osamu's way. It was painfully obvious that he had killed Mori to rescue Kunikida, and everyone scattered when they saw him.

"So," Kunikida said, blinking as they stepped into the light. "We should probably call the ADA."

Osamu nodded.

"Thank you, by the way," Kunikida said, turning to him. "It must have been awful for you to go back there."

"It wasn't so bad."

"Still."

They looked at each other, unsure. It felt like something needed to happen, but how could they just pick a path? Too much had happened, and too little.

"We could go out for dinner," Kunikida said slowly. "It's been a while since we've spent time together."

"Because you were kidnapped."

Kunikida smiled. "I missed you the most."

Osamu made a small choked noise, and then threw his arms around Kunikida in a sudden gesture of unusual affection. "I'm so sorry," he mumbled, trembling as he clung to Kunikida's shirt. "I said so many awful things to you when you confessed. I didn't mean it. I just missed Chuuya and panicked. I'm so sorry, Doppo."

Kunikida pushed up his glasses, feeling a bit shy. "It's alright. You can take as much time as you need. I don't want to push you. But... do you mean..."

A soft hand found his jaw, and Kunikida stared into insistent, warm eyes. "Kunikida Doppo," Osamu whispered, "I am horribly, terribly in love with you. And yes, I would very much like to get dinner, just as soon as I shower the blood off and you convince your coworkers that you're alive."

Kunikida smiled harder than he could ever remember. "Sounds perfect."

And he meant it.