2: Arsenic

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Chuuya didn't quite know what to make of the man hovering in his kitchen.

The man had been a snarling, vicious thing when they were fighting, but out of combat he was far more composed, almost withdrawn. Chuuya had asked for his name as he lead him to the kitchen and the man had simply responded "Dazai", a twinkle of mischief in his eyes.

He was a troublemaker, that much was evident. A mischievous assassin that had spent hours playing with the house before Chuuya had stepped in. Nobody had accepted his house's game before, not like this Dazai man had. He'd seemed to relish in the maze, and the house had been quite pleased with that response.

It had to have been, because otherwise his house would have killed the man. Disappearing staircases, crushing vines, moving walls.. His home knew many ways to kill people and it was never hesitant to employ them on trespassers. After the fourth death Chuuya had charmed the forest itself to stop innocent civilians entering his home. Human curiosity was dangerous. Wanderers would see a door in a tree and feel as though they just had to enter.

Dazai wasn't like that, though. The man must have sought out his house specifically, because otherwise he would never have found it. Chuuya already knew that it was one Ōgai Mori who'd sent the assassin. He'd recognise the telltale black coat of a valued Port Mafia member anywhere.

Even as Chuuya had his back to the intruder he was aware of his movements, could sense them in the air. Dazai was looking around the kitchen, his steps still carefully silent as he moved about the room. Chuuya was preparing dinner, mixing a bowl of herbs and spices from faraway lands, some of which had been long forgotten by the public. A good stew required good seasoning.

Dazai seemed to be enthralled by the whole wall full of shelves top to bottom, holding jars and pots of different dried ingredients. The man's attention seemed entirely focused on inspecting his surroundings, but Chuuya hadn't missed that he'd slipped a knife up the sleeve of his coat and a well sharpened fork into an inside pocket.

He supposed that was only fair. Dazai was supposed to be killing him, after all. Chuuya wasn't expecting him to give that up easily.

-

"Dinner is served!" Chuuya didn't miss the way Dazai flinched at his sudden call, but the man had a smile plastered on his face less than a second later. What a strange one this human was.  Chuuya returned the smile politely, although his own was more sharp teeth and jagged edges than Dazai's polite little thing. Chuuya was trying to be hospitable but he was still quite annoyed that his dinner preparations had been interrupted in the first place.

"What is it? It smells strong." Chuuya nodded in response as he ladelled a generous helping of stew onto the two plates he'd set at the table. Satisfied with the serving size he took his seat, gesturing for Dazai to do the same.

"It's a relatively simple goat stew, with some rice to balance out the richness." He explained, pouring himself and then the man a cup of the Cheval Blanc he'd been saving for a special occasion. He supposed this was as good a time as any. "There's a good bit of alcohol in it though, you may find it a bit too strong."

The man raised an eyebrow at him from across the table, even as he took a mouthful of the stew before pulling a face at the richness. "Oh wow, it is strong.. are you trying to get me drunk, Nakahara san?"

Chuuya laughed at that, shaking his head "Not quite, although that could be arranged.. and it's Chuuya. Just Chuuya."

Dazai simply nodded his acknowledgment at that, and Chuuya watched as Dazai took a sip of the wine, his eyes widening in surprise at the taste. "Is this.. what make is this?"

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