𝙲𝚑𝚞𝚞𝚢𝚊 𝙽𝚊𝚔𝚊𝚑𝚊𝚛𝚊 | 𝟷𝟽

Chuuya was reviewing the reports from the latest missions. Dazai had been seriously injured in a surprise attack, something that surprised the redhead. Didn't Dazai always predict everything? Well, whenever that low-ranking messenger was around, things got complicated. Not that Chuuya had any interest in investigating that, though.

"Could you take him some food? He hasn't eaten a thing since he came in. Just ask for something decent," Kouyou had said, then left Chuuya in his office and went back to what he was doing. The shorter man remembered the conversation, regretting being there, standing in front of the brunette's door. He still had time to run away, didn't he? Feeling responsible for Dazai and Kouyou, he opened the door to see the other man on the stretcher with a broken arm.

"Orders from Anee-san," he said, approaching the small table to place the bag with the Tupperware container, ignoring how the other's gaze followed him.

"Good dog, Chuuya," he complimented with amusement at the dog's disapproving expression, ignoring the redhead's "Shut up, I'm just here to deliver it," before looking at the food and uncovering it. "What's this? Congee?" he asked, tilting his head as he took the spoon.

—It's seafood congee, Anee-san had it made—he watched as the brunette took a taste, and then another, until he finished it, which surprised him.

Chuuya chuckled, crossing his arms arrogantly: —To avoid being hungry, you ate it like a starving bastard.

—I only ate it because everything here tastes like garbage. Tell Anee-san "Gochisousama."

A slight blush appeared on the redhead's cheeks. Trying to hide it, he turned away. —Tsk, whatever, I'm leaving. Unlike you, I actually have a job. I'll come back later.

Once in his apartment, he opened the door and slumped back against it, landing on some cooking magazines with a red face. He'd been cooking all day, taking into account that idiot's tastes. "Gochisousama"? Of course!