* A BLOODY REQUIEM

their most recent job is over, but the spiders haven't split just yet⸻one last day as an entity, before they go their separate ways. so, what are they doing again? they must've left the hideout for some reason, but shizuku can't recall. whatever it was can't have been that serious. there are more important things, anyway: she gives kalluto the slightest nudge towards the shop.

“ of course not. they look good, and i've never been, either! ” that's all she offers in reassurance⸻why would she mind? he's a spider, just like the rest of them. he can have whatever he likes.

The gentle nudge would not have had any effect had Kalluto tried to put any resistance into it. But he doesn't, and thus he ends up take a couple steps closer towards the cafe and the mouthwatering scent that wafts out of it whenever someone enters or leaves the cafe.

She wasn't been either? MAYBE IT ISN'T MERE TOLERANCE OF HIM THEN. Maybe she wants to go as well and this way they would both get to enjoy it. The thought certainly eases the nagging in his ear that what he wants doesn't matter.

In truth, Dazai's expecting Chuuya to get up and leave as soon as he placed his order. His gaze shifts to the lower right corners of his eyes when Chuuya doesn't move. Maybe it's the dim lighting or the ambience of a public space that feels familiar, comfortable for the both of them or, the most likely option, the fleeting nature of opportunity. Chuuya's kept his promise to make himself unavailable.

If this is some karmic retribution he's decided to implement personally against the ghost who is Dazai, it's working. Effectively.

So Dazai seizes the chance to offer an answer to an unspoken question he suspects lingers in Chuuya's mind. Maybe he's tried to bury it recently, but Dazai comes prepared with a shovel. He'll bury himself along with it. The only thing he's at-risk of losing seems to be Chuuya himself, and that's the inherent problem. Now, however, the ocean's hounding to rise for more and overcoming the levees. Dazai clicks his tongue, but there's no irritation to his posture; the sound's more akin to a dog clicker.

“ Hrm? ” Humming disagreeably, Dazai flicks at his glass.

A sigh — an incredibly dramatic sigh. Any louder and they would have had the bartender as an audience. “ You hear that~? I offer a confession, and Chuuya Nakahara-kun says it's not good enough for him. ” AVOIDANT. As always, he diverts and deflects. It's not the question that's the problem but Dazai himself. Understanding emotion and emotional intelligence are two very different traits of a person. The latter is lost on Dazai in any meaningful way.

He turns to Chuuya, his eyes firm and direct. His hands fall to his barstool and grip at the edge between his legs as he leans forward. His gaze grows pointed, sharp. There's a distinct lack of humor. He almost looks like he's intending to strike a deal with the devil, but that deal's already in place. This is different. This is the honest and loyal Chuuya; the antithesis to all Dazai is.

Chuuya rolls his eyes so hard he almost fears they might get stuck ; if not for the fact he's endured worse. Fuck, what a waste of his time. He'd have been better off abandoning his plans the moment he had so much as sensed that Dazai was in the area. He should have left when he saw him, shouldn't have said a damn word. But SHOULD HAVES are a hallmark of his life, and they're graves to what may have been because he's already spoken.

He doesn't humor Dazai's dramatic deflections. NOT THIS TIME. Because feeding it means Dazai will run with it until he's found some other direction to draw attention. He should feel hopeful when Dazai looks serious for once. But he's been burned by THAT countless times before too.

" For a genius, you're an idiot. I know that. " Chuuya leans away from Dazai with a scowl. Instead he picks up his drink, taking a long contemplative sip. Trying to have this conversation with anyone could be tough. Trying to with DAZAI? He'd almost rather use Corruption again. At least he's familiar with the bone-deep agony and the crippling pain he's left to tend to alone afterwards. He needs to frame this in a way that is better.

" What do I get out of this? " He winces slightly, disliking the phrasing on his tongue. But it's the only way he can figure out how to approach it in a way better fit for Dazai to get what he means. " I'm not - " He starts, then stops. Not a toy, not a pet. Not to himself or others. But to Dazai ? Chuuya cannot say that with full confidence. " In the HYPOTHTICAL, you get me all to yourself and then what ? " He stares at Dazai, placing his glass down on the wood again as he sinks further back in the chair, crossing one leg over the other. " What do you expect WITH that claim? For me to simply be around like a trophy, acknowledged only when you want something while you get to be safe and sound knowing my loyalty ensures I won't do anything? Even you have to know that's not fair. " If not from an emotional standpoint then an intellectual one. Maybe.

"You cant remove it." That sentence has Naoe tilt his head a little, curious. His gaze lands on the collar the other wears and he clicks his tongue off the roof of his mouth.

Why is the red bushi suddenly so interested in it? Seiroku's eyes narrow a fraction in suspicion before the relax again, seeking refuge behind what he projects. EXCEPT THE LOOK GRATES AT SOMETHING. Naoe hasn't done anything, but old memories are festering, twisting and turning and writhing.

there was a slight surge of both amusement and pride trickling through dantalion when he caught his master off guard. too slow indeed. he tilted his head slightly, feigning ignorance despite emotion could always be pinpointed with lucifer since the day they met. he'd at least pretend to let the angel keep his own pride for both their sake. the deep markings on his skin twisted and curled as they always did, always seemed to thrum with a sense of power underneath the flesh. he swallowed, adam's apple pulsing as he did.

it was unusual for lucifer to want to see him directly these days. he wasn't a fool everyone played him to be, ever since solomon began building his pillars and grew older, lucifer was oddly intrigued with him. dantalion couldn't tell if it was the same twisted way heaven was interested in him or not, but he knew better than to get between them. he'd heard what happened to other demons and spawn that stretched themselves too thin between multiple masters. the madness, the ripping of one's insanity until they would foam at the mouth and their mentality tore into two. be it slight worry, if he ever dug too far between them, or saving his own skin from both his masters' own unstable personalities - he did his best to keep his head on straight and whatever information he learned or gave out was kept close to himself only.

How generous for the obvious to go unacknowledged. BUT CREATURES OF PRIDE UNDERSTAND THAT BETTER THAN ANY OTHER. That, and the crown ( more often figuratively than literally ) that rested upon midnight locks that made few willing to challenge the fallen morningstar. Let them move past that.

It is not that Lucifer does not understand the passage of time - he remains aware of it. It is simply that his scale of it is FAR BEYOND what most would comprehend, even those of his fellow demons. Longer, stranger, more liquid than something binding as cement in the way others did. He drifted through its currents. Did he visit Solomon that often in comparison? Lucifer's head tilts away for a moment, golden gaze fixed upon nothing. " . . . I suppose i have. " He agrees after a moment. Then he reconsiders Dantalion's words, a ghost of something almost but not quite a smile on his lips. " Oh? Would you do something if you did see something wrong? " His head turns, peering at the demon before him thoughtfully, though not harshly, state of undress seemingly no longer the forefront. " Do you feel forgotten? Do you want more of my time? " He inquires now, curiosity tethering him from the wanderings of his own mind.

. . . And the apples.