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we are indelibly fated to lose

Summary:

Dazai always had a plan, always made sure to keep subtle control over anything that could go wrong.

Except right now, he didn't, and it would cost him everything just like it always did.

Notes:

idk how i feel about this but i really wanted to write some 109 skk angst, so here is my best attempt to do so.

(See the end of the work for more notes.)

Work Text:

Chuuya stared down at the mess he was awoken to. The mess he created, he reminded himself, despite the fact that he didn't need a reminder. 

The image of Dazai's limp, lifeless body would forever be ingrained in his head.

"Oi, Dazai," he said, nudging at Dazai with his foot. "C'mon, get up." 

There was no way the fucker was actually dead. Chuuya had seen this guy cheat death countless times before, and he refused to think now was any different. 

"Dazai," he repeated, shaking him by the shoulder. Dazai's head fell back, revealing a serene expression and half-lidded eyes, a gaze more distant than Chuuya had ever seen in all the years they had known each other. His fingers brushed against Dazai's cold cheek, but there was no pause in the quiet storm of his ability that thundered under his skin. It was unnerving. 

"You've awoken." said a static voice. Chuuya looked up until his eyes landed on a security camera. "Well, that's quite alright." the voice continued. "You performed perfectly in what I needed of you, so I suppose that it's enough." 

Anger boiled through Chuuya as he recognized Fyodor's voice. His brain flooded with blurry images of recent memories, of once again being used to hurt the people he cared about. There was no way in hell he was letting that scheming rat off the hook. 

Without thinking, he looked down at Dazai, like he always did when the two of them fought together against an enemy. But instead of his partner's confident smirk, Chuuya locked eyes with a vacant stare. Dazai made no move to take action, just sat against the bloody wall. For once, he didn't look like he cared whether he won or lost the game. He just looked glad it was over. 

But it wasn't over. Fyodor was still watching arrogantly through the safety of a security camera as Chuuya and a shell of his partner tried to figure out what they were going to do. 

Dazai has a plan. He repeated it to himself until it started to sound like a prayer. It was what he hated most about Dazai. He always had a plan, always had a way to ensure things would fall into their favor. He gave Chuuya no choice but to trust him, despite everything. 

There were some things that he couldn't trust Dazai with, things he couldn't even trust himself enough to admit to. But Corruption was never one of them. 

"Oh, Grantors of dark disgrace," he started, removing his gloves, "Do not wake me again."

No matter how strong Fyodor thought he was, he would be powerless in the face of Corruption. Everyone is. Except for Dazai. 

So it was Dazai who was going to have to pull him out of it. If the slimy bastard really does have a plan, and if Chuuya really didn't just kill another person he dared to love, then he knew that using Corruption wouldn't be the end of him. 

And if it was, well, then that was his own fault. He accepted his responsibility in all of this, felt it like the familiar burn of Arahabaki on his skin.


Dazai awoke to the feeling of his heart pounding against his head, the bright ceiling lights assaulting his eyes. His limbs all felt heavy, pressed against the cracked wall. 

In the distance, he heard the sounds of destruction. The chopping of helicopters overhead as the building crashed into itself, and in the midst of it all was Chuuya's voice, shouting out like a war cry. 

He was using Corruption. Dazai's blood ran cold at the realization. 

When Chuuya had first showed up at Mersault, Dazai had fooled himself into believing that he could save both him and Sigma. Since then, reality had slapped him in the face more times than he can count. Now, all of his strategies went into defense as he desperately tried to keep himself alive long enough to think of something.

At the sound of another crash in the distance, Dazai slowly tried pulling himself to his legs. They were broken, and so he stumbled back down, falling on his side with a cry. The bullet wound on his shoulder throbbed and pain coursed throughout his body, leaving him immobile.

In the corner of his eye, Dazai saw the blinking light of the security camera. That's where Fyodor might be watching, and where Sigma might be too after he went after him. If Dazai couldn't get to Chuuya, then maybe Sigma could lead Chuuya to Dazai, somehow. 

"Sigma," he croaked, before he was cut off by a coughing fit that burned through his lungs. He noticed the fresh blood on his jumpsuit, the feverish chill that wracked his body as he struggled to catch his breath. 

The poison. Dazai didn't know how long he had been out, but it must have been long enough for the poison to start taking effect. That meant that Fyodor should be feeling it too, wherever he was. Even if he was able to save himself from Chuuya's wrath, the poison still would have killed him. 

Chuuya would have activated Corruption for nothing. 

Dazai tried to call for Sigma again, but all that came out was his raggedy breathing. He felt his chest constricting, as if his lungs were trying to squeeze out the little bit of air he had left. 

Sigma wasn't coming, he realized. If he was in any position to help, he would have done it ages ago. Dazai knew how much the man fought for what he called home. He wasn't one to give up, even if it cost him his life. Dazai just hoped Sigma's death wasn't as drawn out as his would be.

Another crash shook the room. Dust of debris coated him, stinging his eyes and drying his throat. The camera fell from where it dangled on the wall, hitting the floor with a crack. Dazai stared into it's shattered lens, recognizing defeat. 

There was nothing left he could do. He heard Chuuya's powerful voice on the other side of the breaking wall, so close and yet so out of reach. They could have been unstoppable together, but apart, all they could do was patiently await their deaths.

What sounded like bombs went off in the distance, the military no doubt trying to stop the destruction of Arahabaki. Dazai prayed to any god that still cared that they didn't get to Chuuya. Judging by the pained sound of his shouts, he probably didn't have much time left anyway. 

Maybe the damage being done would be enough to rival Suribachi city, and the two of them could die in a hellhole similar to the one they first met in. At least that would be somewhat beautiful Dazai thought to himself, waiting still in a pool of his own blood until finally, death came. His oldest friend, slowly dragging him home through the dirt to the sounds of Chuuya's agonized screams. 

Notes:

this is such an unrealistic worst-case scenario, but unrealistic worst-case scenarios are the most fun to kill myself over.