Chapter Text
Today was a total disaster. He knew it. He should have foreseen it with that brilliant brain of his, right?
Right??
But no, here he was, curled up in a small ball in the corner of his bed. He was crying silently. Tears seemingly streamed down his face non-stop. Both of his sad eyes were red and puffy. He wished he could have just ended his life here and now.
Everything was grey. Only sounds of raindrops pattered heavily against the rooftop were heard. Inside, bottles of alcohol and trashes scattered around the floor everywhere. Yet, he couldn’t get himself to care much, not that he normally would take care of it.
Today was just different, and it was a special day to him.
And that’s -
the same day as when Odasaku passed away.
Thanks to a certain Port Mafia Boss called Mori Ougai, he witnessed his only best friend died in his own arms that day under one of his countless sickly yet successful plans.
Mori called it successful, as he had acquired a Skilled Business Permit from the Special Division that shall recognise their violence act to be legal. But, to him, he still thought that it was not worthy for Odasaku to die in exchange for that useless piece of paper. Honestly, since when did Port Mafia really care about following rules set by the government.
Whenever around this time of the month, those awful memories always haunted him and had him submerged in the depths of his own grief. Every time he woke up from his worst nightmare heavily drenched in sweat, he remembered it vividly, as if it actually only happened yesterday. It constantly reminded him of how helplessly and easily destroyed he was to be unable to save his friend from his supposedly-able-to-be-prevented death.
On that same day, the mansion was on fire when he returned together with Chuuya in the middle of the night with the mind to bury his dead friend somewhere near the sea outside of Port Mafia’s territory. Everything was burned down into ashes, even the corpses before there were all unidentified; somehow, Odasaku’s skeleton had never been found. It’s like someone had purposely removed his corpse before committing arson. But, that’s impossible right? No one other than Mori knew that Odasaku was heading there in the first place. Could it be Ango? Urgh, he didn’t even want to think about the possibility for a second.
Back to the current time, sobs filled up both of his lungs, choking him every few seconds. His breaths were short and ragged. He felt dry, and it threatened to burn his lungs.
He should be the one whose dead, instead of holing up and mourning for his dead friend in his shared apartment with a certain short-tempered redhead. Speaking of him, said person should be back by tonight after his one-month-long mission in France.
He chuckled lightly. He must be so pathetic right now, considering the ‘Demon Prodigy’ everyone knows was not a person who batted an eye or shed a tear when interrogating suspects, committing murder or any other sort of crime.
Most of the time, he was cold towards everyone, save for a few people like Hirotsu, Kouyou, Gin, Odasaku, and Chuuya. Odasaku was a special case. However, Chuuya, the one and only one, who was able to witness everything behind that perfect mask of his. Being the most intelligent while also the dumbest person in the world, he would most likely shut Chuuya out with some shitty excuses, saying that “No, I’m fine,” or something like “Heh~ I didn’t know that my dog cares so much about its owner.” with a sad tone hidden beneath one of those masks.
Chuuya, who had seen through all his bullshit would either get angry and smacked him on his head followed by long insults without any real bite in it, or merely sighed and got up to give him a big hug. He would loudly protest at first while trying to kick the other away, eventually failing after a few attempts and straight away breaking down before Chuuya. Typical him.
Now, slowly unravelling the bandage ends knot on his wrist, multiple scars be it from self-inflicted, burns, bullet wounds, cuts were all visible on that skinny wrist of his. Under normal circumstances, any normal human would be scared to see such a massive amount of injuries on their hands. But of course, this was Dazai Osamu they were talking about, nothing will ever be normal.
After retrieving a knife from the kitchen, he sat back down on the floor of the bathroom, door left unlocked. Piles of unwind bandages just laid disordered around the floor.
As far as he was aware, he began to reopen up some old wounds which were still not fully healed from his previous attempt. Sitting still on his back against the wall facing the door, he gazed at his bleeding hand, immersing himself in watching the blood seeping through his fingers in an unhurried motion onto the floor, forming a pool of blood at a steady pace. Time seemed to slow down around him.
Moments later, as it felt like eternity, he started to feel numb to his whole body. Eyes slightly unfocused along with the light bit by bit fading out of it. Recently dried tears once again wetting his already tear-stained face. A few apologies lingered in the air to the person he wished he could see again one last time.
I’m sorry… Odasaku… Chuuya… I broke our promise.
.
.
Darkness slowly embraced him and today was just a perfect day to wake himself up from this oxidizing world of a dream.