Chapter Text
“Aouch! That hurt.”
“Stand up straight if you don't want to end up suffocating.”
Chuuya obeyed with a little pout. He was standing in front of one of the many mirrors in Koyou's studio, a few hours before the ball. He tapped his fingers against the frame of the mirror. He was trying to take deep breaths to calm his nervousness, but the corset that Koyou was forcing him to wear prevented him from doing so. The corset was there to ‘mark his size’, according to her. Chuuya thought it was futile. Perhaps he shouldn't have said it out loud. Koyou had tightened the cords even more at his remark.
Chuuya really did feel like a society lady. He was being treated like this, and nothing irritated him more than to realise that. He'd never worn a corset in his life, and now he understood why it was so hated. The thing compressed his ribcage so much that his vision was blurred.
“I think you're squeezing a bit too hard.” he muttered through his teeth.
He raised his head to inspect himself in the reflection. Obviously, Chuuya had had to become Koyou's doll. Although a mask would hide half his head, Koyou had insisted on embellishing his face with artifice. It was useless for him, wasting precious paint for nothing. But he didn't dare protest too much. Koyou could become frightening and very persuasive, and he'd learned that the hard way. So, he let her have her way.
Taking a step back, if he wasn't being squeezed like that, he thought he looked rather handsome with make-up on. Not that Chuuya ever lacked self-confidence. He had an advantageous physique, and he knew it. He played with it and used it to good effect. But he had never tried to sublimate his face in this way. He didn't have the means, and he didn't see the point. But he couldn't help appreciating the way his features looked. He had never really spent time looking at himself in a mirror. Chuuya's daily life consisted of protecting his family, surviving and targeting nobles. That is, until he came here.
He missed his family. But he was doing it for them, so he would endure. "Don’t worry. You're a good leader." Maybe if he was that good, he wouldn't have let them down. Failed. Blood everywhere. Tents torn apart. The fading fire. The groans of pain. Chuuya clenched his fists, his breathing becoming heavy.
“Are you still with me?” asked Koyou.
His eyes were lost in emptiness, as they often were these days. He kept going over what he had failed to protect and his regrets. Above all, his revenge. He wasn't thinking clearly. It made him angry. He couldn't see straight and was blinded by his emotions. He thought he'd started to turn the page, but it was as if he'd put his head back in a tub of ice water. He was drowning and it was becoming unbearable.
He took a deep breath. Even if the corset made it a little more difficult.
“Of course.”
He had seen Koyou's gaze, but he was avoiding it. He didn't want to give her good reason to get to know him better. He wanted so much to keep a reasonable distance between her and him. Chuuya would leave once all this was over, and he didn't want to betray his family. But it was getting complicated. Koyou wasn't a woman who was good with words, so she acted. Exactly like him. He could see what she was trying to do better than anyone. She was acting like someone who had a responsibility to him. He didn't like that.
So, he cleared his throat discreetly to get rid of his unease. When he looked up again, he saw himself in the mirror. Koyou had finished with him. Wow.
He'd already seen himself with it the day before, but he was still just as impressed by Koyou's talent. He had to admit with regret that the corset did him justice. The colour of the costume brought out the flamboyant colour of his hair, his eyes becoming more piercing thanks to the light make-up. He had to say, he was magnificent. He was never afraid to compliment himself. After all, if he didn't do it, who would? He wouldn't wait for someone to come into his life to take care of him. He had a modicum of self-respect.
“So? Does the corset suit you?” asked Koyou. She had a small, satisfied smile on her lips. She could sense Chuuya's feelings, not that he was hiding them at first sight.
“I have to admit that it makes me look good. Even if I still find it hard to breathe.”
Koyou chuckled slightly as she picked up a mask lying on her desk.
“Don't complain too much, you'll only be wearing it this evening.”
“It's already too much.”
Chuuya grabbed his hair and pulled it back over his right shoulder. It had grown since he'd been in the castle. He should probably cut it. He also adjusted the mask over his face as Koyou tied the strings to the back of his head. It covered a good part of his face, and he would have been content with that, but he noticed that Koyou had fun decorating it. Black lace effects gave the outline the shape of wings. It went rather well with his costume. He liked it.
Koyou smoothed Chuuya's shoulders and looked at him in the mirror.
“If one day you give up your career as a criminal, you should know that there's always a place here for you as a model.”
This made Chuuya laugh, which left him bitter. He appreciated Koyou's attempt. He could see that she was trying to make him feel at ease here at the castle. That he was being tempted to form a bond. But he didn't want that. Koyou was very nice, that wasn't the problem. She just wasn't his priority.
Dazai raised his glass in greeting to a duke he knew well. He started the conversation with pleasantries. He complimented. He was humble, feigning surprise when someone said, “this ball is really successful”. Ugh, he hated that. He was good at conversing with the people around him. People had always remarked on his oratorical ability, without knowing that it was more of a curse. Talking to people was a chore for Dazai. It took up all his energy and he realised that human beings were the worst species the Earth had ever produced. But that was another subject entirely.
Today, he intended to put his precious qualities to good use, even if it cost him to do so. The future of his kingdom and his people was at stake. They need me.
He swallowed his unease as he forced a laugh, moving slightly away at the same time from the duke with whom he was speaking. Putting him in his pocket to extract information without looking suspicious was something that took a long time and was terribly horrible for Dazai. Especially when the people he was talking to were perverts who looked him up and down as if he were some kind of slu*t, while his wife was standing right next to him. What a disgusting man.
He was a nobleman who had been very close to his father before. He wondered why he got on so well with him, until Dazai found out the hard way. This duke had reached a level of debauchery that he had not been able to withstand once on the throne and expelled him from all royal events in the future. But not tonight. Tonight, he needed all the information he could get, no matter how small. Even if it meant inviting people he didn't want to see.
Dazai sniffed discreetly when he realised that the duke in front of him knew nothing. He shouldn't have been surprised. He had found him careless and stupid even then. That hadn't changed in all those years.
“And you, Your Majesty? When will we have the honour of a queen on the throne?”
The duke's raucous laugh made him shudder with disgust. Concealing his aversion to this conversation, he laughed lightly, hiding his unease.
“Well, maybe one day. The woman of my life still doesn't seem to be ready to show herself.”
It wasn't true. Perhaps Dazai had a particular attraction to women, finding them pretty and attractive. Even though he had never been in a relationship with anyone, he thought that being intimate with a woman would not be disturbing. But he wasn't interested now. He was still young, he wanted to enjoy that status. Even if the traditional way of marrying young was common among royal families, Dazai didn't want to.
Dazai tensed as the duke threw himself on his shoulders, pulling him close as if to whisper a secret. He sent a look of distress to Oda, a few metres away. Who was chatting with an earl. Great. So, he was alone in this awkward situation. The duke seemed to have had a lot to drink, judging by his smell.
“You know, I could organise particular... appointments to my estate. Maybe I could..”
“No thanks and stop hanging on my shoulders. Now.”
The duke moved away suddenly, surprised by Dazai's icy tone. Mmpf, he'd earned it. He watched with an imperious gaze as he and his wife walked away. Dazai felt sorry for her, she certainly didn't deserve a pig like him. But arranged marriages were such a plague.
“You've inflicted the worst scoundrel on yourself tonight. Is everything all right?” asked Oda, who joined him in the next minute.
“I'll probably need to boil myself to get the filth off me, but I'm fine.”
Oda nodded to suppress a smile. Indeed, the ball was going rather well. It was sometimes difficult to recognise all the guests under the masks, so Dazai paid attention to the world around him. We could never be too careful.
“Any information?” asked his adviser, leaning forward slightly to keep a little privacy from the people around them.
“Not really, and you? Did Earl Sakaguchi give you any clues?”
Dazai didn't miss Oda's flushed cheeks and chuckled at his best friend's embarrassed expression. Oda coughed lightly into his hand to ease his embarrassment.
“Stop making assumptions. Our relationship is strictly courteous.”
Dazai took a sip of his drink and smiled.
“Of course. It seemed to me that a piece of paper had been passed on.”
“Dazai!” hissed Oda. He was red now, maybe even the same colour as his hair.
“So?” he asked, ignoring Oda's visible embarrassment. He loved to tease him, and it was even easier when they were in public.
Oda huffed in abdication.
“He's getting married in the next few months.”
Dazai's little smile faded. What had he said about arranged marriages again?
“I'm sorry, Oda.”
His adviser shrugged, feigning indifference. Yet Dazai knew better than anyone that he was pushing his sadness deep down inside him. He had watched Earl Sakaguchi and Oda liked each other for years. When the Earl paid monthly visits to the castle, the looks they exchanged did not go unnoticed by Dazai. He knew something was going on between them. And even though Oda didn't really talk to him about it, he sensed that his best friend had feelings for this nobleman. But fate had decided otherwise.
Before Oda could say anything, Dazai's gaze was inexplicably drawn towards the great doors of the throne room. Chuuya was there. He had arrived. And he was... Hypnotising. Fascinating. Although most people didn't know who he was, Dazai did. He would have recognised his eyes among so many others, even if it irritated him to no end.
Eyes that clung horribly to his own. Chuuya was looking at him in turn. He had it despite the many metres separating them. Chuuya sent him a wry smile. A smile that made him look good...
“Dazai?”
The snapping of his fingers in front of the brunet eyes was enough to snap him out of his reverie and contemplation. He had been too busy detailing his criminal that he hadn't heard Oda speak to him.
“Sorry, yes?”
“Are you sure taking him to this ball is such a good idea?”
Dazai couldn't take his eyes off Chuuya, who seemed to be zigzagging through the crowd like a fish in water. Damn, those pants shaped perfectly his...
“Perfectly. Nothing like a criminal to steal some information, mh?”
The mask Koyou had made for him worked magically. Nobody recognised him. It must be said that Chuuya had a big advantage from the start; his face had never been clearly in the spotlight. Admittedly, some of his features could easily be recognised, but under that mask, there was little chance of anyone shouting out that a criminal was walking among them. That's why he took the liberty of blending in, smiling slightly at the nobles to make a good impression.
f*cking disgusting.
He hated it.
He hated them all. Every one of them.
He took the liberty of snatching a glass of champagne from one of the servants' trays. Surprisingly, it was one of the best he'd ever had. So, he downed the glass, unconcerned by the indignant looks he received for his lack of a proper sitting. He couldn't care less. He hadn't come here to impress them, even if he had to show some restraint. He was in disguise after all. The black sheep in the sheepfold, if he dared say so.
The comparison made him chuckle. Chuuya took the time to stand back and analyse his surroundings. He had already spotted Dazai. Of course, he had to be the first person he noticed when he arrived in the room. The king wore a black suit, encrusted with equally black diamonds and a mask as lacy as his own. Chuuya had put off the idea that he thought he was rather handsome and that the clothes made him very attractive. But he would never dare say them out loud. He was the king, he couldn't afford to think such things when he was his liege and his worst enemy in this society.
The women's dresses were just as magnificent as their masks and hairstyles. On the other hand, their husbands could not refrain from more decent behaviour. Typical of the nobles. Chuuya knew he'd seen worse, having been assigned missions with targets more horrible than those before him. But everything about them reinforced his opinion; high society was rotten to the core.
The orchestra was to the right, down the steps from the throne. The candles did justice to the gilded decorations on the walls and ceiling. The throne room exuded wealth. It was almost suffocating for Chuuya. The raucous laughter of the dukes and counts filled the space. Ew.
“I hope you're not too uncomfortable.”
Chuuya had seen him coming, but he feigned surprise. Oda was someone he liked. From a distance. They hadn't really spoken since he arrived, but he felt he wasn't being mean.
“I suppose lying wouldn't be appropriate.”
Oda laughed lightly. They were standing apart, and even though there was no one within 5 metres, you could never be too careful. There were ears everywhere. Chuuya had learned that from experience.
“You can be honest. I'm just an adviser, not someone who'll cut your head off for a lie.”
Chuuya raised an eyebrow. He was still scanning the crowd, trying to detect any strange movement, any suspicious people. But he was keeping a close eye on Oda.
“So, I'd say the degree of hypocrisy and wealth doesn't make me want to burn down this castle and everyone in it.”
“I was expecting that kind of answer.”
“Because I'm a criminal?”
Chuuya met Oda's gaze for the first time since the start of their exchange. He was openly challenging him. After all, anyone high up in the hierarchy was worth provoking. Instead, Oda was just the opposite. His expression was calm, almost amused. It intrigued him.
“No, not at all. Of course, to say that I don't keep a certain distance from you would be a lie. I was expecting it because that's exactly what Dazai would have said in your place.”
At the mention of his enemy, Chuuya twitched. The corner of his mouth lifted, and he clenched his fists. He was pretty sure his ears were turning red with a surge of anger. He had no right to compare him to... him.
Nevertheless, he took a deep breath to calm himself down. Getting angry here and now would accomplish nothing. Especially not against Oda. He tried to smile, but it didn't really work.
“And why are you thinking like that, if you don't mind my asking?” he asked, the words catching in his throat.
Oda sighed and turned to the crowd, which he also inspected. Chuuya frowned. He could usually see through people. Having been forced to survive rather than live since he was five had taught him a few things. One was to be able to tell who you were talking to, and that was pretty useful. Oda was easy to read. Chuuya didn't claim to know everything about someone just by looking at them. You believed that when you were a kid.
But Oda had the features of someone who hadn't grown up with a spoon in his mouth. He had a certain wisdom even though he was already quite young. Which, in Chuuya's eyes, was admirable despite his position. It wasn't the case for everyone. Wisdom was not the first quality required to be part of high society. Chuuya had noticed that hypocrisy, theft, crime, debauchery - and the list could go on and on - had existed in their privileged circle since the dawn of time. Everything that was blamed on the lower class was repeated here, in secret.
So no, wisdom and high society did not mix well. Which is why Chuuya himself was surprised to notice this in Oda. The young man emanated an aura of calm, comforting if he dared not say so. In stark contrast to Dazai, after all.
“Dazai isn't the cruel, merciless king he pretends to be when he's standing in front of you...”
Chuuya laughed mirthlessly. The same speech again. He could learn it by heart.
“Of course. Don't make me believe he's the kindest of sovereigns.”
As he said this, Chuuya's gaze fell on the person in question. Dazai was talking to an earl, perhaps. Or a duke. Or a viscount. It wasn't as if Chuuya cared either way. He didn't care. He didn't care at all that his smile looked so fake he wanted to rip it off. He didn't.
“I didn't say that” Oda admitted calmly. “On the contrary, there are decisions I don't agree with...”
Strange for his advisor, he should be more in agreement with what he wants...
“But Dazai is not indifferent to his people. He is trying.”
“So why are his people still crumbling under starvation? The crimes of high society? Why are we still being made to pay for their injustice?”
Chuuya tried to remain discreet, but it was complicated. It was a subject that concerned him directly, that was close to his heart. It wasn't easy not to raise your voice in this kind of situation. But for the sake of his hidden identity, he maintained a certain restraint.
“I know.” he said.
And something in Oda's eyes made Chuuya believe that he really knew. How, he didn't know, but he decided to believe it. Despite his anger.
“Dazai is really trying. Only it's not easy when he's surrounded by sharks, ready to attack him as soon as he shows any sign of weakness.”
Chuuya squinted.
“Why are you telling me all this? It doesn't work in his favour towards me, you know that very well. I'm his enemy and I could turn against you all at any moment and do a coup d’etat.”
“I know.” Oda repeated. “But I also know that you won't do it. Not when Dazai is your greatest ally in all this. Not when you need him as much as he needs you.”
Chuuya let a little silence linger. He knew Oda was right, and that was probably what was hardest for him to admit. Chuuya needed Dazai terribly for this revenge. They had a common goal, so joining forces had become obvious. But Chuuya, did he need a royal ally? Just a few months ago, he would have refused. But now...
Fyodor seemed to have direct links with royalty. Links that Chuuya wouldn't have been able to infiltrate without himself sympathising with the enemy.
“Dazai isn't your enemy here. I'm not asking you to trust him blindly. I'm simply suggesting that easing tensions would be welcome.”
Oda remained silent, leaving Chuuya to think. With his eye still on Dazai, the criminal then remembered the scene that had played out in front of his eyes the day before. A scene he was sure he should never have witnessed. He had observed the way Dazai had reacted to the man with the ponytail. What his reactions had been after he'd gone. From a distance, he had even seen the bandages around his neck when the king had removed his clothes. Strange, because Chuuya would have known if Dazai was wearing bandages, but it seemed that the king was hiding his game well.
Was the man with the ponytail one of the ‘sharks’ Oda was talking about? If he was, Chuuya would take his word for it. Even from a distance and hidden away, Chuuya got goosebumps. This man radiated something evil. Perverse. Corrupt even. He seemed to have a special bond with Dazai, for him to react like that.
But Chuuya didn't want to dwell on just one fact. He wanted more. He wanted more proof. He couldn't just trust two people on the good of Dazai's person. He didn't trust anyone here. They weren't his allies first, so could he trust them fully? Could he really trust Dazai?
“I'm not asking you to trust him blindly.” Yeah, no sh*t.
Chuuya had this contradiction. Dazai piqued his curiosity. He had the impression that he was surrounded by secrets. Like a dark aura. Of course, he wanted to unravel them all, to learn how he worked. Because Dazai was an intriguing character. He had to admit that he behaved nothing like the nobles he had already known. He was surprisingly... familiar around the edges. But he couldn't stand it. The fact that he couldn't figure him out annoyed him.
Just like now. Dazai seemed to have spotted him and locked his gaze with his own. He moved his head, and despite the mask, Chuuya saw his eyes darken. What was he supposed to understand? Wasn't he going to expect Chuuya to read his mind? Then, suddenly, he understood.
Dazai wasn't that far from him. There were only a few metres separating them. Reaching him should be quick.
“Excuse me.”
And Chuuya took his leave of Oda. He placed his empty cup on the sideboard behind him and immersed himself in the skin of what he hated most: an aristocrat. He smirked and went to meet Dazai, who was surrounded by a couple and a young woman. Probably their daughter, given the resemblance between the two adults.
“Ah, and here's a close friend of mine! Meet the viscount of one of our neighbouring lands, Sir Hirohata.”
Chuuya almost choked when he heard the utterly ridiculous name Dazai had given him. But he quickly recovered, not giving the king a single glance. He bowed slightly, showing his respect even as he gritted his teeth inwardly. His tense smile was disguised as a sincere one, even though he didn't really mean it. But it was for the sake of his companions.
“Pleased to meet you.” he said.
“Hirohata, I was wondering if you wouldn't like to take his daughter dancing. After all, you're an excellent dancer.”
Ah, of course. Chuuya must have expected him to do him a favour. But dancing? Chuuya was a terrible dancer. He'd never learnt, the only moves he could do were in bars, drunk. He had no experience whatsoever. And the young woman next to him looked just as bored.
“You must be mistaken, Your Majesty. You know I don't...”
Discreetly, Dazai pressed his shoe against Chuuya's foot. Chuuya gritted his teeth, trying not to lose his temper. Dazai's slightly too forced smile convinced him, even though he really didn't want to. He hadn't come here to flirt with high society, and even less to dance. He swallowed a stream of insults.
“Of course.”
The young woman let herself be guided without saying a word when Chuuya offered her his hand. At least, he supposed that was the norm. He'd spent enough time analysing the behaviour of the guests at the ball to have understood certain codes. But what worried him most was the activity that Dazai had expressly asked him to carry out.
He met Dazai's dark gaze as he moved towards the centre of the room. He nodded. So, he had an idea and perhaps some information. But he still had no right to do this to Chuuya. It was something of an ambush. Besides, why did he have to take their daughter away from the discussion? She seemed... amorphous. Disconnected from reality, oblivious to what was going on around her. She was in a constant state of despondency, as if she'd been to a thousand balls before this one and her parents were dragging her to every important event to find her a husband.
Chuuya was fighting for the lower class. But he had to admit that some situations were unfair. Even for the nobles. He wasn't heartless after all. He noticed the flicker of envy escaping in this young woman's eyes as he struggled to get her to dance. He was managing. His feet were uncoordinated, but the young woman didn't seem to notice. They were stomping more than they were dancing, which wasn't a bad thing after all.
Chuuya wasn't trying to make conversation. He was finding it hard to know where to put his hands, and this situation was making him very uncomfortable. What's more, he was afraid of being found out. He was not safe from someone recognising him at the last second. He was taking unconscionable risks by showing himself in this way. Especially as the centre of the room reserved for couples wanting to dance was almost deserted. All the attention was on him, whispering about who he might be, how magnificent he must look under that mask. How lucky the young woman was.
He was tense. He didn't like it. All heads were turned in his direction, so when Chuuya managed to glance at Dazai, nobody was paying any attention to them. Chuuya suppressed a sigh of frustration and anger. Of course, he knew that Chuuya would draw the attention of all the guests if he asked anyone to dance. Dazai had free rein. And although he had to admit it was a clever move, he began to boil. Chuuya didn't want to be a pawn on Dazai's chessboard. He wanted to be the leader too. Dazai had promised him vengeance. He didn't want to be sidelined, to feel used. He owed it to them.
The dance ended. He smiled at the young woman, who half returned his smile and left, bowing. Conversation resumed. People lost interest in him. Well, that was what he needed. But what he really wanted was a breath of fresh air to clear his head. So, he headed for the royal gardens for a few minutes, leaving Dazai behind.
Dazai followed Chuuya with his eyes. He knew that making him dance with the duke’s daughter and distract her and all the other guests must not have pleased him. But he had needed privacy, and taking his target somewhere else would have been a very bad idea. He knew that Fyodor probably had spies at the ball. He was being watched, he could feel it. Dazai had to watch his every move.
When he left the duke, he took a deep breath. He inspected his guests. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary. A few guards were keeping a low profile, reinforcing security without creating a sense of panic. That was all that was needed, and Dazai was desperate to avoid this worst-case scenario. The ball seemed to be going well and everyone was happy.
Come on. Do something.
Dazai was counting specifically on this ball to draw Fyodor out of his lair. A clue, anything. Anything that would allow him to find him and kill him once and for all. But everything seemed too quiet. It was frustrating, infuriating.
Then he thought back to Chuuya and the way he had held that young woman to dance. He shouldn't feel any annoyance. After all, it was he who had incited him to do it, and for his own benefit. It would be extremely cheeky of him. But Dazai could see his hands on her waist again, which sometimes slipped, surely not being used to this sort of thing. He was surely jealous of his ability to adapt, and of the fact that he had managed to deal with this situation without a shadow of a doubt. A criminal like him had no place here, and yet he managed to act as if nothing had happened. Yes, that must have been it.
He sniffed. He wasn't very convinced, but it was the only theory he could come up with. Without really thinking, he put the mission aside for a few moments. Dazai needed to clear his head.
