(if it weren't for dazai, chuuya wouldn't have stepped foot in the mafia. there's a quiet level of pride in this, knowing he had a hand in the making of the man next to him, as irritating as he is. it's not something he's willing to bring into light, though - jury's out on whether dazai would be here if it weren't for chuuya, either.

but there's a gentle smile, a lie to cover up those thoughts coming right up, as his eyes fall into their dinner, just enjoying the crackling of the fire before he can answer.)

Ah, hehehe! Nothing really that deep, Chuuya! Just thinking about how I really miss my clothes! Wondering how the lady I was trying to woo is doing! Wondering if I really was going to have crab for dinner in prison! Ah, too many thoughts. My brain has become mush, see?