the morning sun shine through the windows made dazai groan groggily. he pressed his head into the pillow, covering his eyes with annoyance. the snow reflected the light and was too bright for his eyes. reluctantly, dazai pulled himself off the bed, grabbing his shirt off the floor. it was somewhat crinkled but that's fine, no one here knows him anyway. he ran a hand through his hair messily before slipping on his shoes and leaving for breakfast. dazai was planning to go the tourist spots of st petersburg, seeing as there was nothing to do while he waited for his record to be cleared.

the first place he decided to go to was the st. isaac cathedral. he heard it was a marvellous place and being at a tourist spot was the most inconspicuous thing he could do at this point. it certainly did live up to its reputation with wonderfully detailed paintings on the dome ceilings and gold accents against the white walls. the high ceiling gave dazai a numinous feeling, as if he was so tiny compared to the building and by extension, to god, he supposed.

"what are you doing here?" a familiar voice asked, not surprised, but it seemed like it from the question.

dazai spun around. "ah, dostoyevsky, was it? so nice to bump into you here! do you usually visit tourist spots or is today a special occasion?" he looked the silver haired man beside him up and down. he had a braid and interesting amber eyes. while his left eye was vibrant and full of life, his right was vacant of any light. "i don't mean to interrupt if that's the case."

"oh you're not, you needn't worry." he murmured something to the silver haired man beside him, who grinned gleefully in return, reaching into the pocket of his trousers and pulling out what looked to be a burner phone.

"you're not even going to introduce me?" dazai pouted, watching the man turning the corner.

"maybe another time," he gave the brunet a pointed look. "what exactly are you doing here? you don't strike me as the sort to visit spots like this."

dazai shrugged. "maybe i like a change of scenery every now and then. you don't know."

"i don't." dazai glanced at the man's annoyed profile as he typed away on his phone. dostoyevsky would look up occasionally and glance at a man on the other end of the hall. he wasn't much to look at with a short, stocky build with an expensive suit.

"is he important?" dazai asked, his voice dropping to a low mumble.

dostoyevsky looked up at the man again before turning his attention back to his phone. "no, just a diplomat." he put his phone away with a small smile. "your opinion on mariinsky ballet?"

"oh my, is this fyodor's way of treating me to a date? i'm sorry but i'm not interested," dazai teased, mentally noting the diplomat leave.

"really? i thought you would like to see something entertaining." dazai knew he wasn't referring to the ballet. judging by the way he was acting, it was probably to do with the diplomat, and he could tell dostoyevsky had something sinister in mind.

"well, if you put it like that, how can i refuse?" the russian smiled approvingly at his response.

"good. we've got an hour to kill, so would you like to get some lunch?" he handed dazai a ticket, making him raise a brow.

"aren't these tickets expensive? who were you planning to take with?"

"why? sad you're not my first choice?"

"you wish!" he followed the russian down the road. "so, where to?"

"well, there's this quaint little café close by, affordable enough for your tourist budget, too."

dazai pouted at the snide comment like a child. "i'm not poor, dostoyevsky!"

the russian stopped, turning away from the door he was about to open and looked dazai up and down. "then why are you still wearing yesterday's clothes with that poor excuse of a jacket?" dazai spluttered out an excuse while dostoyevsky ordered them some food. "are you going to stand their looking pretty or are you going to find a table?" dazai rolled his eyes and found a table for two beside the window, covered in lush green leaves that were hanging from the suspended flowerpots. dazai sat down, humming lazily. dostoyevsky handed him a plate that had a fancy looking poppy-seed sandwich and a cup of black coffee.

"you really are spoiling me, dostoyevsky!" dazai leaned forward, smiling at the man as he scoffed taking a sip of his coffee. dazai watched him take a tentative bite of his own sandwich. "picky eater, are you?"

"of course. aren't you?" dazai chuckled, taking a bite of his sandwich.

"not at all." dazai watched the man continue to eat, somewhat intrigued. it was interesting, the way his eyes fluttered a bit with every bite, the way his eyes seemed to lose focus as he got lost in his train of thought, sipping his coffee.

"what is it?" dostoyevsky looked up at dazai and he had to suppress his surprise when his berry eyes met dazai's espresso ones.

"no, nothing. you take bites like a little mouse, it's really unsettling."

"you haven't even touched your food." dazai shrugged, drinking his coffee, ignoring the russian's grin.

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ayyy i've finally updated