Summary: Chuuya regretted ever taking on the title. Chuuya & Ayatsuji friendship, Chuuya can see Youkai/spirits AU.

Additional tags: Oneshot, gift fic

A red motorcycle sliced through the heavy fog that blanketed the streets. 

Unlike Chuuya, most in Yokohama would rise in a few hours. Those awake at this time were few. It was the period when the veil between the mortal and supernatural became paper thin.

The engine guttered to a stop and the kickstand was pushed out. Chuuya quickly got off and unbuckled his helmet. He held his helmet under one arm and used his free hand to pull out his phone.

The tracker clearly showed its location to be abandoned factory.

"F*cking idiot," Chuuya cursed as he spotted the car. Dazai had taken his car, b*stard that he was. But Chuuya still couldn't just leave things be and let his partner die.

He kicked his way through a door and entered the factory. Chuuya heard the whispers immediately. Many childish voices chanted, "Red haired. Red haired. Red haired has come to play."

"I am not here to play," Chuuya answered curtly. If he was a human, he would not have dared to talk to a high-level Youkai like this. "Where is the human you've trapped?"

"He is on the third floor. We have tried to trap him but he seems immune." The voices sounded spiteful and annoyed.

"Thank you," Chuuya replied, half-sarcastic and half-polite.

He turned and sprinted up the stairwell. He followed the noise of someone talking—Dazai was trying to antagonize anything living here, most likely.

He slipped inside the room and grabbed Dazai's collar, dragging his partner along as he firmly stated, "We're going now."

Dazai protested, "Chuuya-" 

"No," Chuuya cut him off. He needed to get them out of here before the Youkai thought of something that would affect Dazai through the physical realm, like dropping a beam on his head or breaking the floor beneath them. 

XXX

Dazai kept poking his nose into things of a supernatural nature. This was less to do with how much he believed whichever rumors about a place and more about how Chuuya would always hurry him out of different places. 

What was Chuuya hiding? Dazai had no idea, but he was going to find out.

XXX

"You idiot! You just had to go find the one Youkai smart enough to figure out how to harm you!" Chuuya fumed.

Dazai watched Chuuya slap paper onto the walls around them. The paper was covered in intricate symbols drawn in red ink. "Sorry?" He insincerely replied with a sugar coated smile.

Something rammed itself against the door.

Chuuya didn't even flinch, continuing to paste the talismans onto various points and muttering a string of curses under his breath.

Dazai was somewhat impressed that he didn't even know some of those curses; they must be in languages he hadn't learned. "What are you doing?"

"Safe-proofing the room with seals."

Something slammed into the door again, making the room shudder under the force.

"You mentioned Youkai?" Dazai prompted. "I'm guessing what's trying to get in here is one?"

"No, sh*t, Sherlock," Chuuya snapped. 

XXX

Chuuya slipped through a study window. It was rather easy as the owner of the house kept them unlocked. This was not done out of negligence or arrogance, but simply because the other ways inside were being watched by a military unit.

Chuuya swept his gaze around the room. There were just papers, books, newspapers, and comfy chairs, with no sign of the owner around. 

He checked the kitchen. Two cats appeared and kept rubbing themselves against his legs. Chuuya petted them absentmindedly. His friend was not here either.

He sighed before opening the door to the basement. The cats hissed and kept a few paces from the door. Chuuya started walking down the basement steps.

Every available surface seemed covered in dolls, except for a small circle at the bottom of the stairs. A man was in the circle, sitting in a bare, wooden chair. The whole place thrummed with resentful energy because of the spirits trapped inside the dolls. 

Three of the dolls inched closer. Chuuya let the red glow of his ability envelop his hand. The dolls shuddered at the display of power and shrank back. 

Chuuya made it to the bottom of the stairs. "It's really no wonder you took up being an exorcist with this many after you," he commented. 

Ayatsuji chuckled. "Yes, rather." His head was resting against his intertwined hands, propped on his knees. "What do you need?"

Chuuya looked around at the room of dolls and the dolls stared back at him. He almost wondered how Ayatsuji's kill count compared to his, but quickly skipped over to other thoughts, like what he was really there for. "I need to get some more talismans. I used up the rest of my store last night."

"Really?"

"It's all Dazai's fault," Chuuya complained. "He knew something's different with me and thinks that I'm an exorcist for sure now. He went after that Oni in the west, the one called the modern day Shuten Doji."

Ayatsuji laughed. He commented, "You being called an exorcist would be wrong, but also right in some ways."

"I'm not an exorcist. I'm a guardian." Chuuya's expression was flat. 

"There are similarities."

Chuuya snorted, "Few."

"As an exorcist, should I feel offended that you have such a hate of being associated with us?" Ayatsuji teasingly replied.

Chuuya sighed in exasperation. "You know that's not what I meant." 

"Alright." Ayatsuji smiled. He stood up and stretched his stiff back. "I should have a stack or two of the regular protection kind ready for you today. How many more or what other types would you like to order?"

XXX

The hallways of Port Mafia Headquarters were filled with people, both the living and the dead.

Newly born ghosts were spotted through their confusion and almost complete lack of spiritual energy.

This one was a child. The children were always the saddest to see. 

The issue was that the child was standing in the middle of the hall, desperately trying to get the attention of someone. 

Chuuya dropped the papers in his hand. While picking them up, he met the child's eyes and curled his fingers in a follow me gesture. 

The spirit's face lit up. They started to blabber something, but it was indecipherable due to how much the child sobbed while they were talking.

"Chuuya?" Tachihara asked.

"Yeah, I'm fine," Chuuya assured. "Just dropped my files." As his back was still to his subordinate, he pressed a finger against his lips to show he can't talk yet. He would explain things once he and the ghost were alone.

XXX

"The Guardian of the Port!"

And. . .yet another frantic Youkai interrupting his time off work.

Chuuya sighed. He crushed the half burnt cigarette against the railing he was leaning against. "Yeah, that's me. How can I help you?"

He really didn't know why his younger self had thought being the guardian of Yokohama was a good idea.

XXX 

"So, afterlife? Thoughts?" Dazai cheerfully asked.

Chuuya couldn't help his wince. He ignored the conversation as much as possible. 

His typing did slow down when Mori expressed his thoughts however; They was suspiciously close to what the old timers of the exorcist and Youkai world knew.

XXX

Sakunose Oda was an odd man and an even odder ghost. He sometimes dropped by after he knew Chuuya could see him.

Chuuya got slowly used to Oda. He was used to having two people in the apartment, but with Dazai gone. . . it was nice to have the company.

Chuuya was rather unsure at first, but Oda got brownie points through helping Chuuya's recently dead subordinates get situated and even move on, in some cases. Oda never left however. He always came back. 

Oda never talked about his life as a human; such behavior was common for ghosts and human turned Youkai.

Oda became a regular, a ghost who came back to talk to Chuuya. There were others: a janitor who died during a shoot out, a skilled assassin who almost made it out of the Port Mafia, a wife who lost her and her husband's life to a rival gang, a child who was caught in the crossfire, a man who's lover was part of the Port Mafia. . . . Chuuya had lost track of how many regulars he had at some point. 

XXX

The Port Mafia unofficial Halloween party went pretty well.

"We should go explore a haunted building," Kajii suggested, a maniacal look in his eyes.

Chuuya was already half-way out of the room. He couldn't resist throwing one comment over his shoulder however, "What's wrong with the one we work in?" 

Tachihara's jaw dropped, along with his half-full beer can. He looked ready to bolt at the slightest sound. 

Similar reactions followed from several other coworkers.

XXX

Chuuya looked as pale as a ghost; ironic, considering what he dealt with on a regular basis. "That's why Dazai left?" He mumbled. 

Oda nodded.

Chuuya ran a hand over his face. "Give me a minute. I need a drink. I'm not drunk enough to deal with all of these," he gestured a hand vaguely in Oda's direction, "Feelings. Not a word I'd normally associate to anything dealing with Dazai, but here we are."

XXX

Baby exorcists looking to cut their teeth were always a hassle. The most foolish tended to go to Yokohama, as it was known as a hive of Youkai activity.

Chuuya crashed through the door. A red glow emanated from his hand and a stack of talismans were picked up by an invisible force. "All of you, shut up and get behind me," he ordered.

XXX

Chuuya had a network made up of his regular ghosts. He heard more about what was going on in Yokohama than any human, except for Mori probably. Although he had long thought Mori was not a normal human, or if he was a human was such an outlier he should not be counted.

XXX

"So what's the deal with Ango?" Chuuya questioned. He popped the cork off a wine bottle and poured himself a glass.

Oda's face contorted slightly.

"Complicated, I'm guessing." Chuuya idly swirled the wine in his glass. He would offer Oda a drink, but. . . well, his friend was a ghost.

Oda sighed. "That would be a way to describe it."

"Well, what's another one?"

Oda was silent for a long time before he stated, "Difficult."

Chuuya nodded and sipped at his wine. "Okay, you don't want to talk about him. Noted," he muttered.

XXX

Chuuya was writing a report with one hand and holding his phone with the other. "Yes, Hirotsu-san?" 

"I need a favor."

Chuuya scratched the pen along a piece of scrap paper—he was running out of ink. "A favor? Of course I'll help." It was rare for Hirotsu to ask for help. Whatever it was must be something important. Chuuya reached for a new pen and uncapped it with his teeth. He went back to writing his report. "So what is it you need help with Hirotsu-san?"

"Gin and Tachihara want to check out a building that's supposed to be haunted," Hirotsu blandly admitted.

Chuuya mentally groaned. He couldn't help the, "Really?" that slipped from his tongue. "Okay," he immediately followed it up with, trying to cancel out how rude he just sounded. There was no point in trying to get out of something after he already agreed to it. Besides, nowadays him just being somewhere with a human made the supernatural beings in Yokohama back off.

XXX

Chuuya stared up at the eldritch abomination Lovecraft had turned into.

"Huh, okay," he commented. This type of thing was really par for the course with his life.

XXX

The Armed Detective Agency was populated by eccentrics. This type was somewhat new however. There was two men, both seemed to be priests—as in Shinto priests, decked out in the full attire.

Dazai was already scrolling through his contacts list when he saw them.

"I'm looking for the Guardian of the Port," one of them said.

Dazai immediately stepped out into the hallway to make a call.

XXX

Two Kitsune used illusions to disorient their enemies. An Inugami used a katana and fan to hack at a pack of Oni, who wore armor and wielded maces. A Umabami snake hissed as it tightened it's grip around a Yuki Onna. A battle between Youkai was a sight to see, especially one featuring too many types of Youkai to name.

A red glow enveloped the entire area. Youkai grunted and screamed as they fell to the ground, crushed by a weight on top of them. 

"Who the f*ck started a war on my turf?" Chuuya snarled.

There was silence.

Chuuya sighed, feeling tired. "Someone speak up or I'll off all of you."

"You couldn't even-"

"Like you could, exorcist. You-"

"How dare-"

Chuuya cut off the protests. "Do you know who I am?"

"No. Who the h*ll are you?" An Inugami asked, teeth bared.

"Arahabaki. The Guardian of the Port. It's my job to keep peace here," Chuuya curtly replied. He pulled out a pack of cigarettes.

A Kitsune that was about to cast an illusion, faltered. Her ears flattened to her skull. Similar reactions were happening around the clearing as the Youkai paid more attention to the human that was restraining them. Arahabaki, a being of pure destruction. You were better off trying to fight a god of calamity than oppose him. 

Chuuya surveyed the expressions of the Youkai and nodded. He lit his cigarette. "So, I'm going to let you guys up and you're going to tell what this is all about."

XXX

Fyodor Dostoyevksy was crawling with spirits; they choked the air around him with eager claws, yearning to be physical if only to get their revenge. Those still possessing reason talked to the local spirits. 

Chuuya knew about Dostoyevsky the moment he entered Yokohama.

XXX

A Kage Onna, a woman made of shadows, was an unaccounted for listener. She brought back a recorder after switching her post with another of her kind. The only reason she listened to Chuuya was because he was friends with what they called the 'living shadow lady', known to mortals as Tsujimura.

Chuuya thanked the Kage Onna and played the tape; it was a transcript of Dazai's and Dostoyevksy's conversations. It was the most brutally honest he'd ever heard Dazai being to another person.

XXX

Sigma sat on a skyscraper. He watched the burning husk that was his casino. His outline was almost completely transparent; he was of the newly dead and still in a stunned state.

Someone sat beside him. Smoke curled into the sky from their cigarette.

Sigma thought little about the person. He really should have realized that a Port Mafia member showing up was no coincidence.

By the time Chuuya grabbed the dead man's wrist, it was too late for Sigma to escape. A red aura surrounded the executive. "Sigma, who are the two members of the Decay of Angels that we don't know about?" He demanded, going for the most important piece of information first.

XXX

Chuuya walked down the row of gravestones to the one in the shade of a tree. 

Dazai sat, back against the gravestone. He had his eyes closed and head resting on the top of the stone. A bouquet of crysanthemums lay beside him.

It was not a surprise that Dazai was here; it was the fifth anniversary of Oda's death after all.

Chuuya put his flowers on the other side of the gravestone. 

Oda crouched beside Dazai. He whispered something, meant for no one to hear.

"Atsushi-kun?" Dazai asked, eyes still closed.

"You're doing fine," was all Chuuya said before turning on his heel.

Dazai stared after Chuuya in surprise. He picked apart the words and tone to find nothing really Chuuya-like about them. He snorted, half-hopeful and half-amused. Because, those really weren't Chuuya's words were they?

A/N

Talking about youkai and stuff with auroracode and writingforFUNandbecauseboredom has finally caught up with me. 

Merry Christmas auroracode!

-Silver