Chapter Text
The rain tapped cold
Against the apartment window.
The wind whistling outside, and a quiet sound of branches from a tree smacking into the pane of glass, leaving the mostly dormant room to echo with muffled sounds.
The storm was supposed to last at least until the late morning of the next day, And it was greatly advised to avoid being out in the weather until the storm breaks.
Which was the reason why Dazai found himself alone that evening.
Of course today of all
Days it would rain.
From a simple announcement the Agency sent to everyone through email, Kunikida had dismissed everyone from working that day, with the permission of Fukuzawa, at least until the weather cleared. Claiming it
'would be for the better, and gives everyone a well earned break. Well, At least for the ones who deserve it'
Ahhh...
Yes.
Dazai knew well
Who he was speaking about.
He could hear the desperate chimes in his ear already; Kunikida trying to make him do his own paperwork, and to not be so lazy. Everyone would roll their eyes, or giggle, maybe even joke behind their backs, and everyone would have a decent time.
On most days it would make Dazai
Smile. Feel a bit tipsy from the rush of teasing and infuriating Kunikida to no end.
Be the clown.
But today there was no circus music.
No laughs in the office, or the chattering of foe, turned friends.
It was silent.
Only harsh Rain fall that only got louder as the pounding in his head grew to worse extremes. Having no one to stop him, he found it hard not to indulge and have one two many drinks than he should have.
Downing bottle after bottle, he was sure he could've drowned in it, maybe even become a bright flame from the inside out, if he were to just breathe in the direction of a lit match.
Yes
There was no longer anyone around to quiet his horrid mind. No more excuses, and no more distractions.
As much as he despised work, there was a reason for himself always showing up, and not because he planned to actually do work.
No
There was a method to his madness, it being company. It was always nice to have a person or two to talk to. Gossip and chat, sometimes about mundane things. Stuff that wouldn't matter the next day anyway.
After all, it was kinda hard to drown in your sorrows, when you have company to entertain you. And entertain they did! Until he got that damned email.
So the show was over.
Lights out!
Done.
But it wasn't over until
The bandaged freak
Sings.
Or however that saying went.
Maybe he was mildly dramatic.
How selfish one had to be to rely on others to keep his mental state at bay? Jeese.
What a jerk.
His head hung heavy, drunk out of his mind! that heavenly high he got right before the big fall and crash, when he drank too much, and forgot to count. When he couldn't feel the pit in his stomach just yet.
And everything felt like
Just the right time
To fall off the ends of the earth,
And never come back up for air.
Feet tripped and stumbled while he spun around his near-empty room. Liquor bottle in hand, and the music being the sound of rain from his open window.
The smell was rough and heavy.
Yeah, probably not the smartest idea to leave a window open during a bad storm, but the room was getting hot! And the thoughts were getting louder.
Lips met glass, as Dazai took another sip, after a ragged breath. His dark eyes, simmering a near red color, as he dulled his senses with booze.
This was how he usually spent his days alone. Whether it was out in a bar, a club, or just his room. If he could? He'd always have drinks on hand!
It always made him feel better!
Way better than wallowing.
And he loved wallowing! At least when other people were around. Sometimes he could trick a
Pretty lady into babying him
After giving some sob story.
But then
Kunikida would come and drag him away in shame, give him a whole speech about how to be a 'real man' blah blah blaaaah.
All was good.
Reminiscing was nice.
At least it was, until he reached the bottom of the bottle. And nothing came out.
And with a solemn pout, he shook the bottle upside down, as if anything would magically leak out.
Obviously not.
"Hahhh. Now you betray me too?"
His words jarbled with
a slur to his speech.
With a thud, the bottle hit the ground, a sharp shattering noise rang out, as glass and debrie ricocheted off the wooden floor, and bounced around into different parts of the tattered room.
Dazai found no appeal in staying for the aftermath. This wasn't the first broken bottle on the dirtied floor. And it likely wasn't going to be the last one either.
Walking- or, more like stumbling, towards the fridge (that he bothered to plug into the wall for the sole purpose of having cold liqour) he pulled the door open with sloppy precision. And strung his head low to search for another thing to swallow down inside his void-of-a gut.
Sadly, nothing was left.
He forgot to restock after his
Last little bender.
With a groan Dazai pulled back. Not even bothering to close the fridge door, as he went to his cupboard, rummaging, and searching for anything to continue the cycle of abuse he was inflicting onto his body.
Anything to shut up
That awful sound.
Which... may have been his own breathing?
After further disappointment
There was a moment of thought.
Nothing good, I assure you.
A glance to the front door, maybe going out in this weather to fetch himself a case of beer.
Before long, Dazai rubbed his skull.
"I don't even LIKE beer"
He grumbled under his breath.
There was a beat of silence, before the churn of Dazai's stomach caught his attention. It couldn't have been avoided, his feet slid and rushed against the floor, as he attempted to reach his bathroom in time.
Mouth covered by a bandaged hand, before he lurched over the toilet.
Hurling whatever he had that day- which was not much- into the toilet with a disgusting gag.
It felt like minutes of spilling his guts before the pain ended, laid out ontop of the toilet as he held onto the porcine like a life line. His head spun, and the pile on his tongue was absolutely disgusting.
It quickly reminded him, why he hated the aftermath of drinking so much.
the moment of clarity felt worse than the sick he just threw up. The ache in his brain told him it was about time to take some pills, get rid of the headache he knew he'd have soon.
But the idea of merely moving sounded like a fate worse than death, body aching and heavy like a bag of stones. So there Dazai laid, head propped against the soft fabric of his sleeve, trying to avoid pressing his cheek against the toilet seat, egh, gross. And with that his eyes grew heavy, eyelids sticky, and a thin line of sweat covering his forhead.
He was exhausted, and felt awful. Hell! He looked awful! And with nothing stopping him, Dazai's consciousness began to fade out.
His eyes slowly falling shut, as he was lulled to sleep by the sound of the rain and thunder.
.
.
.
.
....
"There is no place in this world that can fill your loneliness. You will linger in the darkness forever."
A sudden sound,
Sharp and deafening
Rang inside Dazai's head.
Memories of blood pouring under his hands, stuck underneath his nails like permanent ink, the bitter smell of copper seeping into his nose, while a ragged breathing began to die down. He could see it, etched into his mind so clearly, his auburn hair, and the smell of cigarette smoke that lingered on his tan coat. Those sad, hopeless eyes, that mirrored his own.
For once, he desperately wanted
This man to stay, not do what he would've done. No matter how selfish it was.
He couldn't get there in time.
Not even in a dream
Was he allowed peace.
Clammy cold hands grip onto the frame of the sink, shaking in exertion to stand on two feet, with the grace of a new born horse.
It felt as if Dazai's heart was going to pound out of his chest, explode and bleed out on the floor. there was no calm, and every breath he took made the edges of his vision dim. It was like he was being stabbed every time he breathed in. With a tingly sensation in his hands he knew what he was feeling, and he knew he couldn't stop it. It was just another lovely thing he had to deal with. To hide from.
Like his body was running away without him, and there was nothing to ground you back to the floor.
There was pleading, a quiet sob in his throat, as he caught a glimpse in the mirror of his own reflection. And he despised it.
Reddened eyes, pale sickly skin, damp hair, and drool falling down his chin. He looked how he felt.
How pathetic.
A mess, a slob, and nothing to show
For the life you've been given.
How could you have dreamed of saving one man, when you can't even save yourself.
Despicable.
You whine and cry, like a new born baby. As if anyone would save you from yourself.
A drunk, a horrible friend. And an even worse partner. You run away from your problems, and think a charming smile will save you? Retribution is coming.
So
Enough of your blubbering.
You know what you
Need to do.
So do it.
Now
Dazai's eyes danced across the bathroom, searching, scanning, for the glint in the shower, a blade, usually used for something more practical and innocent, than what the hands of his sick doing had planned.
Stumbling towards the shower, his hands found perchance against the tool of his desire, and relief.
A razor. Something so simple, but beautiful.
The way the light flickered against blade, and how it sparkled and danced, like a sharp pair of grinning teeth. Welcoming and kind.
He knew what he wanted, and it was right there. Fingers diligently fiddled and popped open the casing of the blades exterior, ironically something to protect those who use it the right way from harm.
Lithe fingers picking it out, before he was left with a small blade, discarding the body it was held in.
A sigh of relief made it's way out of Dazai's mouth, body slumping as he sat inside the shower, back against the tiles while his eyes narrowed in glee.
With calm excitement, Dazai swiftly reached for the bandage of his left arm, beginning to slowly unwind, like a gift yet to be opened. Unraveling to meet pale, almost translucent skin, blue veins making themselves present like a smudge of paint against a white canvas.
Though it wouldn't be the only paint against his canvas, in a few moments.
Like a show, Dazai brought down the sharp blade against his skin, his once shakey hands going steady, as he took a slow breath. He had yet to break skin, merely enjoying the sight, something peaceful washing over him as he knew he could end it all, so fast.
It was odd.
Dazai hated pain, he did.
He spent years trying to find a good way to go lights out, without the pain that went with it. More difficult than you'd expect. Though there was times like these. Where the pain was welcomed, something to ground you to reality.
And thats exactly what he needed.
With an Inhale, he seeped the blade into his skin. Metal biting flesh, as he hissed out slowly through his teeth. His shoulders tensed, and his eyes pricked with involuntary tears, groaning low in his throat, as the red began to seep from his wrist.
The color was bright and sparked a big contrast against his skin. And for a moment the bad thoughts were gone.
The loud and nagging voices silenced, and the only thing that could he heard was Dazai's own ragged breathing, and sniffles.
tears weld up in his eyes. Quiet moans ringing out, each time the blade made a new incision, just like good ol, Mori instructed.
Dazai could've been a good Doctor, he was sure. But he'd do anything to avoid becoming like Mori.
Even if times like these, he remembers just how similar they could be.
Not that it would matter soon enough
His blood had traveled from his arm, down his wrists, and into the drain, a thin red trail leading out of his body and onto the tiles.
It would've been a nightmare to clean out
Of the grout. What a drag he'd leave behind.
He forgot to make an apology note first. Whoops.
When the sting in his wrists became increasingly more noticeable, Dazai discarded the blade, leaving himself high and dry, to just waste away.
He could already feel colder, his face becoming pale, and the darkness behind his eyes lulling him to close them. He was so tired.
His head dipped and fell forward as sleep tried taking him whole. And God, it would've been the best sleep he ever had!
As unconsciousness took over
His mind. There was a sound, it may have been thunder, maybe not. An engine revving, and stopping outside.
Dazai had a final thought.
Who would be out in
this kind of weather?
--------------------------
-------------------------
Soft fabric, both warm and light was the first thing Dazai had felt when he began to stir awake.
The Gentle sunlight dancing through leaves as it shone through the open window. A breeze that could only be brought in after a bad storm like yesterday's, flowing past his face.
A whistled tune from the lively birds,
Singing without a worry in the world.
Honestly? it was Heaven...
Peaceful, and quiet.
It was only until He realised how something like this -a quaint, and gentle setting, only found in fairytales- couldn't possibly be right, certainly not in his world. that was when Dazai began to question his surroundings.
He definitely wasn't in heaven.
The brightness of the room was blinding, and he definitely didn't have any recollection of opening his blinds, let alone get to his bed after what he had done. When would he have gotten the time? Or the energy? Last he remembered, he had tried to...
The thought was kicked out of his skull, as he reached his wavering fingers up to rub his sore head, only to be met with restriction.
This wasn't the first time he'd found himself tied up, with no knowledge of how he ended up in a different place than he had slept in.
But there was a concern to find himself tied up to his bed, with his own bandage wraps
inside his own home!
That was definitely a new
Experience. Usually when he's kidnapped
His kidnapper never treated him
To a warm bed, and a soft pillow
To lay his head on.
What was the ploy?
As much as he wanted words to leave his throat, he found a groan instead. The pounding in his head returned with a vengeance. And the soreness of his dry throat, held many problems to articulate anything other than pain.
There was a beat of silence as Dazai lifted his head from the pillow below, blurred irritated eyes forced to focus on the restraints against his body. He found himself held down by a mix of a few things. Notably, his bandages, some stray blankets he usually had splayed around his room, and some sheets.
And yet? it was even stranger to find himself out of the bloodied button up shirt he had worn in what felt like mere minutes ago in the shower.
His chest was bare, other than the bandages he kept tightly bound around his torso, hiding most, if not all of his skin. And luckily enough, after kicking his knee to shuffle and move the blanket off his lower half, he found his pants still intact.
How considerate.
What a kind kidnapper.
Suddenly Dazai's attention was grabbed by the sound of a quiet metallic clicking. Like the sound of someone lighting a match.
It was distinctly coming from the corner of his room that was shrouded in darkness. the glare of the sun between himself and the corner made it far more difficult to make out the silhouette of a person sitting in the sofa chair.
But with enough strain, Dazai finally saw the sparks from a lighter, in the perpetrators hand. And with it, a cigarette, and icy blue eyes meeting his own.
For a moment in time
His mind flashed back to a simpler,
But memorable experience of his youth.
It was almost uncanny how similar it had all been. Both himself being injured, tied to a bed after a near-death experience. And a man who took care of him, despite his desire to die. If he pretended hard enough, he could believe he had never left that time. Everything was a bad dream, and he was still in that old house, owned by an assassin who didn't kill.
he hoped he had died, and finally got to meet his old friend from all those years ago.
"You're finally awake."
A cold but gravely voice said
from the dark.
"I was beginning to think I didn't make it in time. Looks like I was wrong" the man had said, all the while he blew out smoke from his lit cigarette.
Dazai knew that voice,
And he knew he wasn't dead either.
Nor was he back in time, in an old house, with an old friend who was long gone. Those hopes
were just another fairytale.
And fairytales weren't real.
But the ginger haired man
Who was sitting across from him, definitely was real. And he was tied up in his own home, with his old Partner staring back at him. He couldn't help but
Stare, like an idiot.
Why was he there?
Lounging with his layers of coats be usually wore, hanging off the back of the sofa. He must have been in Dazai's apartment for a while, having removed most of his heavier layers of clothing, only keeping his vest, and gloves on. Even his hat was off. Of course it was none other
Than Chuuya.
"Alright. Maybe you are brain dead. Can you speak?" Chuuya had asked as he sat forward in the chair, bringing his face into the light. The shorter man definitely looked like he pulled an all nighter. Hair in a mess, bags under the eyes, but even so, he looked pissed.
"Hey. Dazai. Are you in there?"
The man continued to pester him.
Dazai stared Chuuya down, wordless, and dull. His dark eyes wandered down to his wrists, noticing the differences in medical gause that were used, compared to his usual Bandages. They were neatly wrapped, but the old blood that was being concealed underneath, ruined the cleanliness.
"Yeah. That was the best I could provide on such short notice." Chuuya had muttered lowly as his icy eyes narrowed, taking a long drag of his cigarette. His gaze was piercing. As much small talk he was talking, there was an underlying threat beneath it.
He wasn't just looking at Dazai. He was watching him.
Waiting.
Seeing his next move.
Like he was crazy.
"Hey. Can you tell me why you tried that stunt you pulled?"
As calm as Chuuya was talking, he was very accusatory in his tone. Leg bouncing rhythmically as he took another drag of his cigarette, blowing out the smoke through his nose. His body language was rigid.
Dazai moved his mouth as if he were going to speak, stuck on his words in his throat, fingers pulling at the fabric of his bed.
"I don't...und.. why.. you.."
Dazai began mumbling under his breath as he stared off into the distance, never meeting the other's eyes. It was hard to say what exactly Dazai had been feeling.
But that was normal any other day.
But today was worse.
"What?"
Chuuya questioned, a tilt to his head all the while he tried to decipher the ramblings of a broken man.
Dazai was looking worse for wear.
Pale, tangled hair, dull sunken eyes, and dry cracked lips. How someone could get that bad in a single night was baffling to Chuuya. But then again, Dazai was a pro at fucking up his life singlehandedly.
Chuuya sat up
Briefly taken back by
The next words Dazai
Decided to say.
"Why are you here? Get out"
It was on the quiet side,
Rough around the edges of
Dazai's voice being coarse.
Chuuya would've scoffed if he wasn't
So shocked at the audacity of this man's attitude.
"Really? You want me to fuck off? That's bold. Y'know, I knew you had the Nerve to be Audacious, and have ridiculous luck when faced with certain death. But I cannot believe you're stupid enough to think you can shake me off"
Chuuya ranted off as he grimaced and gripped the arm chair, his knuckles would've definitely been white if his gloves had been off. Whatever will power he had, Chuuya was holding back. His voice was steady.
"GET OUT. WHY ARE YOU HERE CHUUYA. YOU'RE NOT SUPPOSED TO BE HERE"
Dazai yelled through the pain of his sore throat. There was no reasonable, nor Sane look behind his near-black eyes, They were wide and haunting. It was hard to even say if he was angry. He barely looked functionally there, with Chuuya.
Legs began to flail and kick against the bed as the thumping grew louder as Dazai fought against the restraints, heavy gravely breaths and grunts echoing off the walls.
"Let me out! now. Why did you do this! Do you think I'm insane?! You're the one who tied me up! Freak!! Dog!! Slug! Get out, get out get out get out-"
Dazai talked quickly, like a mad man, he spat out insult after insult, attempting in his best efforts to get the Mafioso out of his residence. And he really did resemble a wild beast, truly the worst view of inside Dazai's perfectly crafted mask.
His fractured personality shining through
Brightly, now that he was no longer in control.
Despite the seething words said, venom being tossed toward Chuuya, he didn't react. At least not I'm the way Dazai wanted him to. Quiet for the longest time, ingesting the other's words, until Dazai tired himself out from fighting nothing.
Chuuya sat back, glancing at his cigarette before he snuffed it out, using the window seal.
Then he stood up.
He took slow deliberate steps toward Dazai's bed, finally making the first move he did the whole time there, until he could peer down at the hysterical man.
Through heavy breathing and shakey shoulders, Dazai stared up at the Ginger man, hoping all the words he spewed would make Chuuya react. Be angry, get loud, start hurting. He really wanted to hurt.
Give me what I want
But as his eyes grew use to the shadow concealing Chuuya's face, he had realized, Chuuya wasn't angry at all..
It felt like the opposite.
His eyes were softened,
and his face calm. And Dazai couldn't tell anyone why he felt mad, so mad, why wasn't he doing what he wanted?
Chuuya quietly began removing a glove from his hand, as he tucked it away into his pocket. He raised his hand toward Dazai's face, lightly pushing his bangs out of the way before he placed it against his forhead.
"You lost a lot of blood. You shouldn't be thrashing around."
Chuuya said with a calm demeanor.
He made a soft hum in thought as he
Tilted his head.
"You're warm. You might be running a fever"
He mentioned briefly, his fingers running through Dazai's hair. It was so gentle, so soft, and nothing like he asked for. Not that he did ask, not out loud at least.
Dazai stared, mouth agape all while he was handled with such care. His skin was clammy, and Chuuya's skin against his felt nice. Fingers through his hair, bringing a weird sensation. He both felt calmer, yet sick to his stomach. And he couldn't figure out why.
"Chuuya.. why the hell are you here"
He asked solemnly.
"Why are you worrying about that?"
Chuuya mummbled, swiftly pulling back his hand as he tucked it into his pocket.
"I bet you're thirsty, huh? You're dehydrated. I'll get you something to drink, okay? Don't move."
His words were causal, swiftly walking around the bed as he traversed the room, heading toward the kitchen, passing behind a wall, it obscured his Vision of Dazai, but he continued to talk none the less.
"Your place is a wreck. Smells awful too. You really should clean up around here"
He chatted idly, the sound of running water beginning to pour from behind the wall. Dazai, couldn't help but Stare up at the ceiling. What the hell was going on?
What was Chuuya doing?
Was he seriously trying to nurse him
Back to health? What kind of hell did he die and go to? Fuck this was the worst that could happen. And after that one sided screaming match, his throat and head were killing him. Fuck.
"The weathers nice today, right? After that fuck of a storm last night, it better be" Chuuya chuckled absently as he talked to himself.
When he came back around the corner, he was holding a glass of water, filled to the brim, and it was the most Appetizing thing Dazai had seen all day. Jesus he was thirsty. Licking his lips, he carefully attempted to sit up. Though with the restraints he found it difficult, but not impossible.
Chuuya's eyes lit up, a smile growing on his face as he stood next to the bed. "Yeah. I thought you'd be thirsty. Here, tilt your face back a bit" he told calmly as he brung the short glass of water up to Dazai's lips.
"Im beginning to think all you
drink around here is booze. Even your drink glasses are for whiskey. Not a regular cup in sight..." Chuuya muttered, all the while Dazai began drinking from the glass, though he was drinking so fast he felt as if he was about to drown.
"Slow down, you'll make yourself sick"
Chuuya warned, pulling back carefully, leaving Dazai to groan upsetly, kicking the blanket off his feet. It was too hot in here, despite the window being open, and it just having rained. It definitely was his own skin.
Now that he had a little liquid in his system, and had enough time to cool down, he was able to act like an actual human.
"Thanks for the uh.. water"
he spoke briefly, eyes wandering around.
Despite seeming lucid enough, there was still something in his eyes that didn't match his expression.
"Hey, Chuuya, I really need to piss, would you mind getting me out of these restraints? Crafty.. definitely clever, but I don't think I'm gonna fall out of bed anytime soon-" Dazai smiled, certainly charming, and innocent, seemingly that is.
Chuuya had a flat look on his face
Rolling his eyes while he set the glass down. "Concidering this is your first drink of water of today, no. You can hold it. There's something we need to discuss"
Chuuya's serious face was on again, arms crossed as he looked around. "You tried again. And you can't play yourself out of it this time. You can't lie either. I'm the one who patched you back up"
"Im kind of..."
Chuuya paused,
worrying at his bottom
lip before he shook his head.
"Nah. It's nothing. I'm just here to fix you. And I'm going to fix you Osamu."
Dazai rolled his eyes as a groan made it's way from his throat.
"So what? What does it matter
Anyways? Yeah, I tried, and I failed again.
It's the same play and dance I always do. Why are you doing this now. Can I just go now? Fine I won't bleed out in the bathroom, again, fine happy?"
Dazai grumbled, pouting his face as he, stared Daggers at his window. Freedom was right there. Just out of reach. The birds sounded like a mockery now.
Chuuya listened. He nodded along
To Dazai's excuses and reasoning, never interrupting, no matter how much he wanted to do so. He was stronger than Dazai, that was for sure.
"Hm. Alright. That's a start."
Chuuya wandered off, back to the kitchen
Where he had gotten the water from before, only to come back with a rattling bottle. From the looks of it, some kind of prescription drug.
Dazai gave a frown as he pulled back
From the bed as much as he could, facing away from Chuuya like a Toddler in time out.
"Ehhhh, fuck no! Nuh uh! You're not
Putting those things anywhere near me. Tough luck, slug, but you're not getting me to take that stuff"
He told Sourly, shaking his head and scrunching his nose.
Chuuya sat on the bed, popping open the
Medication bottle, and taking out a single white pill. Quickly putting the bottle away in his pocket.
"Why not, 'Samu? They're good for
You. Plus, I'm not letting you out until you take them. I don't give a damn if you piss yourself, I know what kind of things you can do when you're lucid like this"
Chuuya described vividly of Dazai's future without these pills. The shorter man wasn't letting up, this really was Dazai's personal hell.
Dazai grimaced, glancing over his shoulder at Chuuya. "I hate them! I can't think straight with them, and- and- I feel way too hammered to move! It's not fair!"
Dazai whined, tensing up his shoulders. Protesting the idea of taking anything
At all.
"Mm, yeah? Well.. Mori used the same
Stuff every time you're manic, like this. Because we both know, the moment you leave my sight for longer than a minute, or you're released from your binds, you'll try to kill yourself again. Whether that be... running out infront of cars, overdosing, jumping out a window, or.. I don't know! Drowning yourself! You'll do something stupid. And it'll be my fault"
Chuuya complained.
"So.. yeah! You're taking the pill. Come here."
He threatened, crawling further up the bed as he grabbed at Dazai's shoulder, reeling him back to bed.
And Dazai fought, Hard.
Whining and kicking his legs, pulling his face away when he could, over all being as much as a nuisance as he physically could. Chuuya Jostled and climbed ontop of Dazai, pinning him down with his knee, to avoid causing too much damage. A hand grasping at Dazai's jaw to keep him still.
"Fucking hell, stop moving dumbass! Im try'in to help you!"
Chuuya complained through gritted teeth, prying at the other man's Jaw. Grunting at having to restrain a full grown man. This man child was stronger than he looked.
"Ahhh! No! Bad Dog! I don't want it! You're so mean, chibi! You just
want me to suffer! You're supposed to
Listen to me! You're my Dog!"
Dazai whined, flailing and making a big fuss, even if he was bound to take the medicine in the end, he would make it annoyingly tedious to do so.
Chuuya tsked, arms shaking as he finally got the other's mouth open enough to press two fingers down his throat, with the pill. "Yeah, well. I'm doing this for your own good. Do not bite me" He warned.
"Swallow."
Chuuya's brows furrowed as he
Stared down at the Brunette who gave up
The struggle, apparently the off button in Dazai's body was his throat, good to know. With fingers down his throat he glared up at Chuuya with a fire in his eyes. Them both being annoyed and tired now.
"Damnnit, Dazai! Swallow the damn pill! You suicidal maniac!"
Reaching up his free hand, chuuya pressed his thumb against Dazai's throat, rubbing against it carefully, prompting him to swallow-
Or
Tricking him into swallowing.
Saliva built up in Dazai's mouth, the feeling was terrible and he grew light headed from his airway being blocked partially.
Jeese. And he thought he was the pro torturer.
Eventually with enough strain, Dazai swallowed begrudgingly. A cough ringing out of him the moment Chuuya's fingers left his throat.
"Fuck-hah-ing hell! You're trying to
Torture me chuuya!"
Coughs dragged out, until he could properly breathe again.
Chuuya got up from the bed, staring at his saliva covered fingers, grimacing at the sight while he sighed "I'm cleaning this off. Stay the fuck there, Dazai, or I swear to God"
He warned, quickly rushing to the bathroom to clean up, leaving Dazai to settle in, the pill now dissolving away in his stomach. It was only a matter of time before the effects would take hold.
So much for trying to die.
This definitely sucked. But Chuuya would
Have to eventually leave soon, right?
He had work. And the Agency would come looking for him. It was
all a matter of time
_________
--------------
The sensation dulled his feelings.
His body was heavy, and he couldn't really rely on himself anymore. He knew why he felt this way, but there wasn't anything left to do but endure it.
It had been a few hours after taking
The drug Chuuya so... nicely, Gave to him.
The symptoms crept in, one after the other. Numbness, drowsiness, body growing heavy.
It was... annoying.
And brought in a plethora of old
Memories of his time in the Mafia, after one nasty attempt he pulled, he was out of commission for a month! Locked away like
A criminal! All for the sake of
'Helping you'
Well, he was somewhat lucky. The slug didn't just leave him with his thoughts, or- there-lack-of.
He let him free from his restraints, took him to the restroom, even cleaned him up and put him in a new shirt. More all extensive purposes. Dazai would've given Chuuya a 5 star review for being one
Hell of a nurse.
Plus-
"Alright, it's time to eat. I got you some soup, it has crab in it, so you'll eat it, right? You love that stuff. Sorry I took so long. I had to cut everything extra small so you don't choke on it"
Chuuya can cook
As chuuya sat down on the bed, he set the bowl to the side on the nightstand. Helping Dazai sit up in bed, as he gave his tempature another check "okay. Well, you don't feel as hot as before- but I want to keep an eye on it" Chuuya mummbled, mostly to himself, but Dazai was very much listening to him talk.
The shorter man tucked his ginger hair behind his ear, before scooping up the bowl in his hand again, fetching the spoon and quickly getting a scoop. "Okay, open"
Chuuya pressed the spoon against Dazai's lips, and to his delight, there was no fighting.
With a far easier acceptance
Then his resilience from earlier, he took the soup into his mouth, eating it without a fuss.
"There you go. See? Much easier. I hope it's good.. I'm a little rusty" he admitted as he got another scoup on the spoon, slowly spoon feeding Dazai from his Mostly unresponsive state.
Dazai himself was actually
Rather thrilled to have Chuuya's cooking. It was something he hadn't had for a long while. And it beats the cup of ramen he'd make lazily just to feed himself.
It felt nice to he taken care of. Despite
The distaste of being forced to be alive on this earth. Maybe he could stay around
A little longer.
"Chibi always makes good food"
Dazai told with a slur in his
Voice.
Chuuya smiled briefly, getting another
Spoon full of soup. "Yeah, well. Who else is gonna feed you?"
Dazai furrowed
His brows as he took another bite.
That did remind him of a question
He had been meaning to ask chuuya. Something that left him confused.
"Chuuya.. how did you know that I was in trouble?" He asked curiously, head tilting as he racked his brain.
Chuuya paused, looking at Dazai's
Face for a moment, searching for something, before smirking, giving the other another bite.
"You're not the only one with
Your weird hobbies and secrets. I guess I just know when you're on trouble, partner. And you're not gonna die with me still here"
He explained briefly, finishing up the other's soup.
Chuuya glanced at the clock, humming in thought as he stood up. "Alright, I think it's time for bed, Mackerel. You look exhausted" he told, putting the bowl down on the night stand and dusted his hands off.
"Hmm, I'm barely even tired"
Dazai slurred out as his eyes drooped, body growing heavy as he slumped in bed.
Chuuya chuckled, ruffling the dirty brown hair in his hand as he smiled.
"Hah! Yeah right. Look at you"
Chuuya teased, making Dazai grin lazily.
"Okaaaay, maybe a little. But you're tired too. So... are you going to bed? I only got one bed" Dazai told, narrowing his eyes with a mischievous smile on his face, grubby hand reaching to touch Chuuya playfully.
Chuuya rolled his eyes
"Yeah, no. Not happening little man.
But I'll go to sleep soon. I can take the couch if I need to" chuuya dismissed, pressing his palm against Dazai's face.
"Alright. Sleep" he told, moving to stand up. He needed to clean this place up, at least a little bit. The glass on the floor was a hazard itself.
Dazai quickly grabbed Chuuya's
Arm as he kept him there with shakey
Hands.
"Wait- stay. Stay with me, until I go to sleep" Dazai asked quietly. He looked embarrassed, face flushed red as he looked away from Chuuya. It was humiliating to ask. But he didn't want Chuuya to leave him. Not yet. Not tonight.
Chuuya paused, looking down at the troubled man, worrying himself out. And without much Hesitation, he got into bed, wrapping an arm around Dazai's head.
No strings attached.
"Okay. I'm here"
He said gently, fingers running through the Brunette hair, of the troubled boy's head. Maybe if it was a few Days before, he wouldn't thrown Dazai a middle finger and argue until his head exploded.
But tonight it was different.
Dazai had rest his head against Chuuya's chest, listening to the rhythmic beat of his heart. It was peaceful, and Chuuya was warm and always smelled Good. He was so different from him, and yet, opposites seemed to attract.
He knew why chuuya was there.
He just hated to admit it.
Because everyone he ever held
Close will he ripped away from
Him.
His eyes felt heavy,
consciousness drifting from his reach
As he fell asleep in the arms of the man he
...
Chemically attracted to.
Love was a scary word.
-----------
-----------
Chuuya felt Dazai's body go limp in his
Arms. Breathing evening out. He was quiet and tucked underneath his arm, but he'd let him be for tonight, even if his arm went numb.
He couldn't help but marvel down at the others face. It was so rare to see Dazai like this. At peace. It hurt to say he couldn't give him the peace he needed in life to keep going. But he didn't blame Dazai for that.
He would be strong for the both of them.
He knew Dazai better than anyone else. It was just how they were. Bonded by fate.
In all honesty, the truth
Of why he ended up there that night
Wasn't anything magical. It was just in Dazai's nature to try and take his life.
And this was the anniversary of Oda's Death.
So of course he
Knew what Dazai
Would do.
They were...
partners.
Love was a scary word.