#chuuakuweek

[ ChuuAku Week 2018 ] 

#01: Bullet | Blood

ChuuAku has become quite popular this year - perhaps another week to prompt some new fan content would be appreciated!

Here are the links!

DAY 1 - NOV. 9TH

Bullet | Blood

DAY 2 - NOV. 10TH

Soft | Delicate

DAY 3 - NOV. 11TH

Intensity | Marriage

DAY 4 - NOV. 12TH

Protect | Missions

DAY 5 - NOV. 13TH

Flowers | Gifts

DAY 6 - NOV. 14TH

AU | Canon Divergent/Role Reverse

DAY 7 - NOV. 15TH

Chuuaku week day 3 || Intensity - Marriage  Corruption could have handled this. Albeit, the wreckage would have aggregated a much larger mass of land the number of his men he now had to bury could have been sliced into eighths. Rarely did the Port Mafia find itself under the talons of an operation as large and prepared as this, but Chuuya was not Mori. He couldn’t see an attack two weeks into the future based upon a simple note and the look from a subordinate turned rat. His fists clench at his sides rubble beginning to quake beneath his feet. Akutagawa inhales sharply waiting on the furthest corner atop an upturned piece of cement large enough to crush two cars. Despite the expansive distance Akutagawa notes Chuuya’s usual sapphirine eyes had begun shift in color mirroring deep ocean waves rising up before a thunderstorm hits. Akutagawa’s heart rises to his throat. The enemy had been defeated with the backup of a decent amount in the defense bracket, but many of them didn’t make it. Chuuya knew, at least in some part of his mind, that he would lose members during this. As the mafia did in the great war and as it had against the American’s the year prior.

Soft wasn’t a word that applied to either one of them, but looking at Akutagawa now, Chuuya thought that it might fit.

For once, Akutagawa was asleep. More importantly, Akutagawa was asleep in Chuuya’s apartment, curled up on Chuuya’s couch and covered in one of Chuuya’s warmest blankets.

Chuuya knew how much this conflict was wearing on Akutagawa. Seeing people he cared about nearly killed, having to work with someone he didn’t like that much, having to work under Dazai again, all of those were exhausting. Akutagawa didn’t sleep, though. He was afraid to do anything that made him vulnerable, or that might cause him to miss something important, especially in these times.

So Chuuya dragged Akutagawa to his apartment, gave him some tea that he’d gotten from Kouyou, threw a blanket around him and promised him that he would wake him up if anything happened, which it wouldn’t, because Chuuya wouldn’t let it.

Akutagawa protested and said something about not needing protection, but it spoke to how tired he was that he gave in anyway, sipping the tea and then laying down on Chuuya’s couch. “It won’t work,” he said. “I’ll try, but...I don’t think I will sleep.”

Ten minutes later he was out.

Chuuya knew how hard it was to get Akutagawa to sleep, though. They’d only been places overnight together a few times in the past, but Chuuya had never seen Akutagawa sleep well because he was also awake to notice it. But he slept better than Akutagawa. He was more willing to try, at least. Whether he succeeded or not was hit or miss.

Chuuya wasn’t usually one to watch people sleep, but this was the most peaceful he’d seen Akutagawa and he found that he couldn’t look away. Akutagawa was a hardened person — they all were in the Mafia. Akutagawa especially was made of sharp edges, from the jutting of his bones because he didn’t eat enough and overworked himself to the razor sharpness of Rashomon.

Akutagawa’s body was always tense, ready to spring into action at some kind of unseen threat, and it seemed that to him there was always a threat there. He didn’t know how to appear relaxed while still being alert. He didn’t have any grace when he fought because he was relentlessly driving himself forward to kill, to prove something, to get the job done as quickly and brutally as possible so that he wouldn’t have time to think about whether or not his technique was good enough, so that others wouldn’t have time to find the flaws in his work.

It felt good that Akutagawa trusted him enough to allow himself to relax. Even if it was just exhaustion, Akutagawa was incredibly stubborn and he would push himself far past his limits if he thought it necessary.

Chuuya wished they both could have this more often.

That was a goal to work for, allowing for time enough to relax like this without feeling guilty or feeling like something could go wrong at any second.

A surprising amount of time passed — hours, maybe. Chuuya decided he would make more tea once Akutagawa woke up, or maybe a small meal. Soup seemed like a good bet, if either of them were hungry.

For now Chuuya pretended that they had nothing to do and that nothing was going on. He poured himself a glass of wine, in absolutely no rush. A stray thought passed through his head that maybe one day they’d be able to fall asleep together during a time like this.

Akutagawa needs help with a bodily problem. Chuuya volunteers.

(It's not what you think. I mean it.)