[Dazai knows what to expect, he thinks; he usually does. That arm around his waist still makes him raise an eyebrow, though, and he chuckles softly - at the gesture or the comment that accompanies it, it's hard to say.]

You're very generous, shutting it at all.

[He doesn't expect that Chuuya will go through with that would-be threat, but it's all the same to him, really. It's not as if he could fight Chuuya, or even force him to hold back.

If that may be another reason why he lets Chuuya tag along, a very round-about not-quite-suicide method, then it's honestly not even deliberate.

Putting an arm around Chuuya's shoulder - not that he needs the support, even now, but Chuuya has always been a convenient height for these things, and Dazai can't resist pushing things a little further now that Chuuya has initiated physical contact - he starts walking. He's fairly sure the mafia knows where to find his apartment; he's even surer that, in the unlikely event that they don't, Chuuya won't be the one to tell them.

The air outside is cold, a sharp, unpleasant contrast with the comfortable heat running through Dazai's veins. He shudders.]

Ahhh, even the night air attempts to reject me...

[He's mostly kidding. At least 90% kidding. It doesn't make that 10% any easier to handle... He pats Chuuya's shoulder.]

How lucky I am, to have such a warm walking stick~