Archive of Our Own

Chapter Text

This wasn't unusual at all, in fact, having a little amount of freedom while designing their strategies was a normal occurrence; working on missions that weren't qualified for most people was an everyday task for them.

Chuuya watched from a distance as his dark haired partner was violently shoved to the floor and spat on by a group of five muscular men that were ridiculously big compared to the lanky teenager. Dazai was having his head covered with something that looked like a plastic bag, but Chuuya who was watching the scene from afar didn’t have a good enough view to tell correctly. It was late and dark and the ambush was taking place at a well-known alleyway for drug-dealers to meet up with their clients to exchange their products.

Their target was a fairly new organisation that had been causing some trouble in the underworld of Yokohama. For about two months their illicit activities had been attracting the local authorities to the area surrounding Port Mafia operations. The subsequent limelight that resulted from their reckless actions was by all means unwanted and hindering. It was dangerous to any organization from the underworld to have their territories scrutinised by the government or police. 

The boss had given them vague instructions. The only clear target was eliminating the organisation before it turned into something else. There weren’t any ability users confirmed to be working with them -and even if they were any they would be pretty damn stupid to think the Port Mafia would let them get away with anything on their territory. The brief report they were given stated that the criminal organisation was mainly conformed by foreigners. As Chuuya kneeled on the dirt he thought that maybe that’s why they still had the nerve to think they could put up a fight against them, against the Port Mafia. Maybe because they were foreigners they were arrogant enough to presume they could go against the infamous duo from the mafia, because when you have only heard rumours about what they have done in the past it seems surreal. Sometimes Chuuya himself could not believe the rumours he heard about himself, even if most of them were true.

Chuuya sighed, still watching as Dazai was  roughly dragged into a van. Damned bastard, even if i don't agree with this particular way of handling the situation you know damn well you were asking for it.

They had previously agreed while they were going over the plan that the brunette would let himself be kidnapped (as they had done in various occasions). Dazai, the unwavering idiot, had provoked the group of muscle heads immensely for the last half hour. Dazai knew damn well he was going overboard with it. The bandaged teenager was acting like a fool, pointing out everything and anything wrong with their targets (Chuuya knew that first hand how infuriating the brunette could get when he got his mind to it). Dazai had a way with words (that is one way to put it) and it could rear anyone up to the point of wanting to shut him up by any means. 

Dazai retaliated to everything in such an eloquent way that it made most people feel dumb or uneducated. Dazai had the bad habit of speaking back to everyone, even their boss sometimes. Chuuya was flabbergasted whenever he witnessed Dazai's sharp tongue pick and probe at his preys, but whenever he was the victim of the brunette's wit he found himself angry to the point of seeing red and getting violent with him. 

The van in which Dazai had been loaded into took off and Chuuya followed them closely, there wasn’t a soul on the streets. It was a moonless night, clouds sliding lazily on the sky and most streetlights on this specific area of Yokohama didn’t work because of government negligence. It was the most adequate neighbourhood for drug-dealers, mobsters and other kinds of rats that belonged to the underworld.

Chuuya made a face of distaste as he held the steering wheel of the car. They aren’t even checking to see if someone’s following, Chuuya thought as the van entered the port district where most of the warehouses are situated in Yokohama, they are unprofessional and careless, this should be easy.

Chuuya was meant to wait half an hour before getting near the entrance, he left the beaten old black car far behind from where they had taken Dazai and walked closer, breathing soundly the night’s salty air.

They aren't waiting for anybody, he was silent, they would never know he was watching. It was a cold night, fall had already arrived. Chuuya put his gloved hands into the pockets of his trench coat and listened intently at what was going on inside the warehouse, unfortunately he wasn't able to pick up any specific words, only faint voices and a manic laugh that sounded too much like the waste of bandages he had as a partner.

He checked his wristwatch, in around thirteen minutes exactly he should be barging in, they would be around twenty-eight subordinates and their boss would be watching from a distance as they questioned Dazai, then they’d follow their usual strategy unless things escalated out of control, which probably would, considering that even if this specific organisation wasn’t particularly big nor numerous, it was constituted almost exclusively of well-known, foreign criminals. Sure, they would be mostly aggressive and violent but that assured them that most of them would be too brute too actually put up a fight. However, they were well-known outside Japan for a reason and they were probably also physically stronger than Dazai, which meant that it would be quicker and easier to just kill them all before it got got of hand. Chuuya couldn’t against them all alone (even if his martial skills were outstanding for his age and size).

The young red-head looked at his wristwatch again, it was about time. He sighed deeply and prepared himself to knock down the door. It was as easy as toppling over a card castle, his ability could increase his own strength by adjusting his own gravity and reducing the weight of the door.

When his wristwatch marked 4:36am exactly, the door was on the floor with a swift movement of his leg, it was matter of seconds before everyone’s eyes were on him, half of them were surprised, the other half looked ready to kill. Chuuya smirked.

“Well, hello there Chuuya~!” Dazai’s voice was annoyingly loud and cheery.

There was a group of men gathered around him, two were holding him tightly from his arms (the red-head feared for a second Dazai’s arms would pop-out of their sockets and that he would have to somehow carry him to the infirmary later). The rest of the men were surrounding the spectacle, looking amused.

The brunette's leg was bent in an unnatural angle, and even if he usually looked beaten up due to the increasing amount of bandages he wore every day around his limbs, now he looked beaten to a pulp. One of his eyes was swollen to the point of distorting the mocking smirk he was sporting, his clothes were torn, his nose was probably broken. Chuuya disliked Dazai almost in every aspect, but if there was something he admired about the other teenager was the enormous capacity of hiding even the smallest flinch of anything.

Dazai’s face was like a blank sheet of paper, devoid of any kind of emotion (not that Chuuya would ever, ever admit admiring anything from such a moron). At this point in time they hadn’t really known each other for too long, they had started working as partners about a year ago, before that, they hadn’t known about the existence of each other. During the past year of their partnership, Chuuya was almost completely sure he hadn’t ever seen Dazai resembling anything close to a pained expression when receiving any physical form of pain.

Chuuya couldn't help but still feel a bit sorry about Dazai, it must hurt, but still he had to refrain himself from saying anything.

“Shut up, scumbag!” shouted someone who looked particularly annoyed by Dazai’s antics.

“Who would have know that this piece of shit had a little friend to keep him company?” said a man with a thick accent as he sat calmly behind everyone inside that warehouse. He was smoking a cigar, a lazy metallic grin on his face, Chuuya automatically despised him, he must have been the boss.  

He wanted to be done as quickly as possible, lately, whenever they dealt with organisations of this nature and he had to use his ability to its full extent, he felt dirty afterwards. He had never enjoyed using corruption.

“Oi,” Chuuya was looking over to the man sitting behind his own people. His subordinates looked like a hungry pack of wolves, thirsty for blood. “will you be able to move when i’m over?”

“Of course Chuu-ya~” Dazai kept smirking, the only eye he could keep open looked dead, the other half of his face was unrecognisable.

They are unresponsive, if they were professional enough they would have immobilised me as soon as I entered this place.

Hah, No. If they were professional enough they wouldn’t  have let me enter this place in the first place.

“Hah, you were foolish enough to mess with the Port Mafia” Chuuya said to anyone in particular as he took his trench coat off and folded it before leaving it on the floor. "This has been by far our easiest mission. You won’t live to add anything to the rumor of soukoku.”

Chuuya stared without focusing on anyone as some men grew horrified and listened to Dazai’s sadist, mocking laugh as the men who were holding him released him in fear. There was a deaf thump of Dazai’s body hitting the cold, dirty ground before Chuuya muttered:

“ Oh grantors of grand disgrace-

Do not wake me again. ”

Chuuya could not longer understand what his body was doing, he could no longer see what his eyes were seeing. His mind gradually -but quickly- turned off, a chorus of manic laughter was the last echo of noise he heard before disappearing inside of himself, before being corrupted .

***

When Chuuya regained consciousness he was on the floor, no.

Chuuya was laying flat over Dazai who was coughing under him.

He must have had some of his ribs broken. Somehow, Chuuya miraculously never attacked Dazai whenever he was Corrupted.

no, you know it’s not that you ‘didn’t attack Dazai’ rather than ‘he squirmed his way away’ from your devastating blows at everything .

Chuuya felt weak, as always after using Corruption. Chuuya tried to pull himself up, he was obviously causing Dazai trouble breathing. He was tired, and if Dazai passed out, who would take them back?

The small red-head struggled but he managed to kneel besides Dazai, who was coughing non-stop, and even if he didn’t look like he was in pain, Chuuya was terrified that maybe his partner was in even worse condition than himself. It wasn’t impossible, obviously, but it was a rare occurrence. Generally they dealt with organisations that had more class. Rather than beating their enemy into a pulp they could use the opportunity to gather information.

And even if Dazai had provoked them, they had made a good damn job of repeatedly hitting him on the face.

Chuuya could merely keep himself, he forced his legs still by sheer willpower. He looked around, there weren’t walls surrounding him any more. If there were any other signs of life other than him he couldn't tell. The moonless night sky didn't shine any light over the chaos underneath. The small body of the red-head was starting to shake violently due to the cold and Dazai was spending too much time trying get up from the ground, were he had been forcefully shoved moments prior Chuuya was brought back from Corruption.

“For fuck’s sake Dazai, let’s just call Hirotsu-san. There’s no way we’re going to be able to go back like this-" his eyes caught a glimpse of the brunette's face, which had been gruesomely beaten to a pulp "fuck, there’s no way in hell you’ll be able to drive and neither will I.”

Dazai was intent on trying to sit up.

Chuuya thought for a moment that it must hurt. how could it not hurt? Dazai seemed to be in pain but it was only through his laboured breathing that he could tell.

“Oi, Dazai”

Chuuya was about to collapse due to exhaustion. It didn’t really matter that his body was getting accustomed to being Corrupted, he was still just a human. His bones would break and his skin would bruise. He could now hold on longer than he had been able to before, but his body wasn’t as strong as he needed it to be. he wasn’t as strong as he wished he was, strong enough to stop himself from losing complete control whenever he used his ability to its full extent.  

“Why don’t you just call reinforcements so they pick us up and bring us to the infirmary?” Chuuya was losing his patience and Dazai wasn't saying anything back, choosing instead to stubbornly attempt to stand up and struggling with that simple task a little bit too much for his own taste. Chuuya felt slightly worried for his partner but he wasn’t going to let it show. He had no business worrying over a suicidal maniac.

"Dazai, i swear to god-" Chuuya was abruptly cut off before he could finish his sentence.

“Because it’s not necessary!” Dazai growled a little too loudly and a little too stubbornly, in the same fashion a child would protest against a parent. The beaten brunette’s body shook violently from a coughing fit, spitting blood on his fist. He felt like he had been ran over by a train. Why haven't I died yet?

Dazai regained his composure quickly enough and was able to stand up. Chuuya followed suit, not wanting to be left behind neither wanting to show vulnerability, even if they were both in such states.

“Where did you park the car, hat rack ?” Dazai said condescendingly. Under normal circumstances Chuuya would get annoyed and spit out a response against been called such names but as he stared at his partner he was pretty damn sure that Dazai shouldn’t be walking with his leg like that and stopped himself from engaging verbally. Instead, Chuuya figured it would be fair to let the bastard to suffer, maybe then he would finally realise it was better to keep his mouth shut.

WIth plain horror Chuuya could only stare as the brunette attempted to take another step forward but suddenly lost his balance, falling face down to the ground.

well, fuck.

Chuuya stared in utter and pure panic, well fuck, what now?!

Chuuya didn’t waste time in trying to wake up the waste of bandages - since he was about to collapse too- He looked around in Dazai’s torn layers of clothes searching for his partner's phone, praying that they hadn’t taken it from him before shoving him into the van. Chuuya had left his phone on the car, knowing he would use Corruption and that his phone would most likely end up destroyed somewhere far from where he was going to end.

Luckily, he had judged the gangsters correctly, they hadn’t been careful enough to check for his phone and Dazai still had it on him. He unlocked the screen with shaky fingers and as soon as he could feel his lids growing heavier by the second he found Hirotsu-san on the contacts list. Closing his eyes he dialed the number and Chuuya could barely mutter into the phone that they needed to be extracted from their mission. After giving the extraction team their cordinates he collapsed over Dazai. The red-head fainted before his head touched Daza’s chest.

***

Chuuya did not like anything about Dazai, except maybe, that although the bandaged bastard put such a hard façade most of the time, he was incredibly soft when lying on top of him.

Chuuya wasn’t thinking coherently as Hirotsu-san arrived with the Black Lizard squad.

***

.

Dazai was disoriented, apparently he wasn’t dead- No, he definitely wasn’t dead. He was cold and there was a harsh sterile smell on the room surrounding him.

Dazai was very much alive, all of his bones ached. He regained consciousness inside of a private room he knew very well. He could recognise the faint hum of the air humidifier, the hard surface he was lying over... Truth to be told, he was no stranger to Mori’s private medical room. It was in here where he took his private patients, or the ones he wanted to talk ‘sense’ into. Dazai mentally groaned (he wasn’t able to move yet, his body was still paralysed due to the cold and the multiple fractures and wounds and great, fantastic, his wrists were tied with the surgical cuffs-).

Dazai wasn’t a stranger to this place.

He could hear Elise-chan’s laughter from somewhere far behind him. Oh well, he was fucked.

He was so fucked.

“Well, well. Haven’t I taught you to not be so reckless when I assign you such delicate missions?” Mori’s voice was cold, cold, cold. He also knew that voice very well, being Mori´s disciple left a lot to be desired.

“I’ve been training you all this time for a reason. " Mori paused before continuing, a tell tale sign of frustration. He was choosing his words carefully "The reason I have given you such diligent regime, the reason I´ve invested so much time and resources into polishing your skills is for you to be better than this-

I will not allow you to go around acting so recklessly. I could have sent anyone to deal with this if I wanted such a lousy outcome."

Dazai couldn’t open his good eye, he was probably drugged with something that prevented him from moving. He could only speculate what was going to happen. And Dazai was pretty fucking good at speculating, you could say he could predict almost anything. From the weather to a surprise attack from the enemy -he had learnt from Mori after all.

Dazai could predict almost anything even if it wasn’t his ability to do so; he could predict practically anything and that was a fact. (nevertheless he hadn’t been able to kill himself -yet. That had been the only factor so far that he couldn’t seem to get right.)

Dazai had learnt to feign indifference, he had been taught by Mori himself to keep a calm and collected demeanour under any circumstances, but sometimes, whenever he was left alone with Mori (and specially whenever he was brought up here to this room after a failed mission) he felt true and abject terror. Dazai was under a paralysing agent but he was sure that wether it worn off right then and there he would still be paralysed by fear. Whenever fear invaded Dazai's mind he reacted nonchalantly, he withdrew from his feelings and ignored the alarms that went off in his head, but Mori inspired such an intense horror in him, he worried that someday he might slip and that Mori might notice.

“As the boss of the Port Mafia" The older doctor continued with faux concern "you must know it is my duty and responsabiliy to assure that us, the Port Mafia, mantains its reputation and a low profile on Yokohama.”

Mori seemed soul-less to everybody outside of this private room. Truth to be told was that he wasn’t the nonchalant, indiferent, apathetic boss the rest of the mafia usually assumed him to be, or rather, Mori was cold-headed to an extent, but Dazai knew better. He sometimes noticed certain ghoulness lurking around on their interactions. His vocal inflections giving away certain blood thirst whenever they were secluded in this particular place in which Mori let his inhibitions free. The fact that Mori seemed to be unaware of the fact that he wasn't always only following his own rationale, but rather he appeared to give into his own gruesome instincts and seemed to rejoice whenever he punished Dazai, betrayed that deep down, Mori was driven by the exact same sadic, cruel madness that had pushed the old boss over the edge.

“That´s exactly what I shall do until I stop being the boss of the Port Mafia. I won't hold you to the same standards as the rest of the commoners in our organisation, but you already know that. Don't you Dazai-kun?”

Mori spoke slowly, almost agonisingly slow. He was angry at Dazai and Dazai couldn’t bring himself to care because it would be a fruitless effort. There was absolutely nothing he could do but listen to what Mori was saying.

Dazai was growing restless and a hole at the pit of his stomach as he anticipated the pain. The only warning he got before feeling a sharp, cold edge against his skin was the metallic sound of a scalpel being lifted besides him. The sheer noise made him want to gag.

“I really do hope that after today you learn for good that defying me or attempting against my intentions of taking this organisation further into the path of success is a waste of your precious time, Dazai-kun”

Dazai hissed faintly as the blade of what he pressumed was a scalpel traced a long gash along his chest- Or rather, he would have hissed if it weren’t for the fact that he was unable to react, to move, to do anything at all.

He felt something warm, almost hot, stain his clothes. His body was involuntarily shaking, he must have been burning for all he knew, there were more slow, excruciatingly slow, gashes made over his chest.  Mori was ignoring the old scabs that were already scattered all over the skin on his torso, legs and arms. It was impossible to imagine Dazai’s skin without the enormous amount of scars, bruises and wounds in different stages of healing, adorning it. These were the only times Dazai felt truly helpless against anything. Dazai despised Mori as much as he despised pain. Dazai despised the fact that Mori had started using a scalpel on him after finding out that he had tried to take his own life with razor blades before joining the mafia. He couldn't help but feel frustrated at the fact that before Mori found out he had already made a habit of scratching his own skin with sharp objects after failing that attempt, leaving self inflicted gashes all over himself. Ever since then Mori had taken over the habit of slicing him open against his will and he had stopped feeling like he was in control of himself- Dazai had made it into a habit because after joining the mafia it was the only thing that could offer some relief.

Dazai knew that it was foolish to hold into the promise of relief.

The only thing Dazai hoped for now was the promise of the eternal slumber of death. Once he was able to successfully to disappear from life he would be blessed with relief. Unfortunately as days, weeks and months went by, it seemed more and more like he was feeding a hopeless thought whenever he fantasised about death.

Mori was a doctor, no patient of his had ever died, at least that he knew of. The odds were against Dazai by all means.

The thick, coppery smell of blood filled his nose quickly enough, as minutes passed by, sooner or later, it would be all done. Sooner or later he could have another chance at trying to end everything. Or he chose to hope that he would.

Dazai slowly emptied his mind, it was the only thing he could do as Mori continued to cut through layers and layers of skin . Trying not to think of anything could make time go faster.

“You know Dazai-kun that I really enjoy spending time with you outside our usual activities but I do hope I don’t have to see you again so soon." Mori took the time to pour alcohol into his bleeding chest"  Elise-chan loves spending time with you too but I would rather take her to the tailor shop...”

Dazai wasn’t listening anymore, he was welcoming the inevitable sluggishness that always came after this due to the amount of blood loss. He briefly wondered if Chuuya was sleeping somewhere in a bed at the Port Mafia infirmary.

Dazai had once upon a time envied Chuuya for having people so caring in his life, for having Kouyou and for being under her wing. Of course that had been before he had learnt that such childish manners, like envying his partner for having a more loving caretaker, wouldn’t get him anywhere- that was before he was an official member of the mafia. In the present he wasn’t even mad at Chuuya for having asked Hirotsu for reinforcements (as he obviously had, because if it hadn’t been like that Dazai wouldn’t have ended in here). At this point the only thing he was truly mad at was his uncanny inability to die.

The Demon Prodigy, the one who is No Longer Human- the one who can't die.

Dazai didn't have it in him to let himself feel everything to its full capacity, he clung to the indifference that came with detachment and he took it out on himself and the people around him. Not that he liked suffering, but at least it kept him sharp and hopefully, this time, Mori may have gone a little bit too overboard and he might finally be blessed with the oh so expected void of death.

Dazai lost consciousness without noticing whether Mori was still there.

***

The second time Dazai woke up he knew he had been taken to a different place, he knew he was no longer inside Mori’s private room but in the mafia infirmary -where he had been probably stitched up, changed out of his torn, blood stained clothes (along with his ratty old bandages) and probably also cleaned.

He was covered in even more bandages than he had been before but he didn’t care, they were his second skin by now, had always been. Nobody ever asked about them, why he wore so many, they probably assumed how things were for him since he was Mori´s disciple.

As he regained consciousness he made sure to pay close attention to his surroundings, he couldn’t hear much, only occasional footsteps coming from outside and his own slow breathing. He was laid on a soft surface and he wasn’t shivering with cold anymore. Every inch of his body hurt as he stayed as still as he could, he had to act calmly now, it wouldn’t do him any good to rush things.

Dazai tried opening his eyes and was surprised to only be able to open one. The lights on the ceiling were turned off, the small infirmary room was only lit by a small bedside lamp that emitted a yellow light, he was grateful for that. Dazai had no idea what time it was or how long he had been sleeping. It probably hadn’t been too long though, he would have been woken up otherwise.

Before trying to sit up or attempting to move any limb too abruptly he first tried moving the fingers on his feet and hands. He soon discovered that his left leg was tightly held in a cast. He didn’t feel disoriented or dizzy but he assumed it was because he was still laying down. He was incredibly sore all over, he could feel the stitches that had been sown onto his chest whenever he breathed too deep, the brunette sighed, his head felt like his brains had been replaced with cotton and like his veins were filled with lead.

-and yet the worse of it all, he was alive.

Dazai didn’t want to let self-compassion take over, he wouldn’t -letting himself be compassionate with himself meant defeat, meant Mori taking complete control over him- so he half groaned, half sighed, and without letting his good eye flutter shut he put all of his will-power into attempting to sit up.

His arms screamed in protest and the stitches there threatened with tearing his skin and re-opening his wounds but he didn’t stop. Dazai held himself back from making any facial expression, distracted himself as he wondered if Oda or Ango would go to Lupin’s with him that night, wondered what time it currently was, it was impossible to tell, there weren’t any clocks nearby and there were no windows on this room.

‘Oda will probably be there tonight anyways and there’ll be no urgent missions, after all, I wouldn’t have been left sleeping soundly if there were any pressing matters to attend’

Dazai’s body was on fire, it was burning, it was almost too much for it to bear. As he rose from his laying position he saw he was dressed in a hospital gown, he saw almost the total expanse of his body securely dressed in that bandaged fashion he was so familiar with, he witnessed his legs tremble in pain and how the smallest patches of skin that were visible in between the fabric that covered him was coloured with dark purple bruises.

He held his breath as he tried getting off the bed. Standing up would be a difficult task, he was aware of it, but he couldn’t spend more time laying down now that he was awake, he felt restless and secluded.

He knew it would be easier if he had crutches with him, fortunately, back at the headquarters he had a pair of his own. He was used to walking with them every once in awhile. For now, he had to deal with this without them until he got back there. It wouldn’t be impossible but it would most definitely hurt like a fucking bitch.

He had the vague idea on his mind that there might be something that could help him fulfill his goal of getting back to the headquarters, he knew of something that could help. Usually he wasn't given any pain medicine or anything, (He knew those were Mori’s instructions whenever he was brought back from his office to get patched up) (He knew Mori’s orders came from somewhere along the lines of ‘you got what you deserved and pain will make you learn to behave’).

But truth to be told, Dazai couldn't care less, he wanted -needed- to get out of that infirmary room and if pain meds meant he would be able to move without feeling like his body  would come undone at the seams it seemed like too good of a deal to be true.

Managing to swing his legs over the side of the bed, he positioned his good foot firmly against the floortiles. He paused briefly before gripping the nightstand besides him for support as he extended his good leg. He managed to lift himself up in a swift motion and once he managed to fully rest his weight on his leg without the help of the nightstand  he rested his back against the wall behind him. He found himself in a position in which he had to make a decision. He wanted- needed -to get out of there. Each second that passed felt more suffocating for him. As anyone could imagine, Dazai did not particularly enjoy being under the scrutinity of any medical staff nor spend anymore time than he had to in a doctor's office. Frowning slightly he prepared himself, counting to ten in his head as he listened intently to see if there was anyone outside of the room he was currently in. There were no sounds. He looked around the room, examining its contents- he couldn't help but notice that there was a small desk and a cupboard on the opposite wall, but other than that the room was empty.

Dazai tested the balance on his legs, they hadn’t stopped shaking yet damn it. Out of sheer will Dazai extended his arm to support his weight on the wall and with a shallow breath managed to put on his full weight on his good leg before taking his first step towards the entry.

And okay, Dazai didn’t fall over but oh god, he thought for a second his legs would give up.

Dazai was barely keeping himself upright as he took another step further. He focused on crossing the distance to the opposite wall, but before committing full heartedly to the tortuous stroll towards the door. Dazai paused for a moment at the feet of the bed, in which not long ago he had been slumbering: hanging from a worn clipboard there were a few sheets of paper tied together by two paperclips. How naive to leave them still attached to his own medical record. It was clear to Dazai that Mori hadn't shown up in this room yet, he wouldn't have made the mistake of leaving those there.

He supposed the sight of him alone was miserable enough, stumbling shakily from one end of the room to another, so he tried to refrain from thinking about it. He was well aware of the scarce amount of energy he still had in him so he tried to be quick and efficient so he could reserve whatever he could manage for the journey back to the headquarters. With dexterous hands he quickly removed the paperclips and left the sheets of paper still attached to the clipboard. Those were, of course, his own personal medical records and he wasn't interested in the slightest in recalling whatever had been done to him. 

There was a locked medicine cabinet by the door. Obviously nobody thought he might leave on his own terms, Dazai had been brought in in a precarious state so everyone assumed nothing of this.

five more steps and i’m done.

Dazai was halfway there when he felt a sudden wave of dizziness wash over him, blurring his eyesight and making him nauseous. Since the brunette hadn't consumed any food for at least the past 24 hours he assumed his blood sugar ought to be low. i need to take care of this before i can even think about eating anything. Forcing himself to keep going until he reached the cabinet he struggled to regain his vision. Once he was close enough to reach out with his arms he steadied himself with the piece of furniture. His body was fatigued and reaching a critical point but he was just about done here.

The challenge would definitely be dragging himself up to the headquarters, but anything was better than this.

He straightened the paperclips and bent them slightly. This was the easy part, of course. Lock picking was a hobby of his and it was incredibly satisfying to feel the minuscule pins inside of a keyhole click. Once done with it Dazai hooked the paperclips on the gauze surrounding his shoulder, leaving no evidence of the slight detour he was taking before leaving.  

There still weren’t any sounds coming from the outside, he guessed it must have been rather late in the day since the busiest hours for the infirmary were the early hours of the morning. Still gripping the cabinet for support he opened it and carefully inspected the medical supplies inside.

There was a whole bunch of surgical tools and numerous bottles of different kinds, containing mysterious substances. Dazai didn’t really know a lot about the names he could read on the labels of most things since he wasn't really knowledgeable on pharmaceuticals but he was well aware that the whole array was mostly prescription pills and other kinds of drugs that weren't usually available over the counter. Dazai quickly went over the names written on the labels that he had heard before and tried to avoid lingering on anything that seemed dubious.

A yellow plastic container caught his eye as he skimmed over the different labels. He'd definitely seen those pills before, somewhere. The name of the medicine ringed a bell on his head, but as much as he tried to recall where he had heard of it he was unable to come up with any answers. He thought of when he hadn’t been part of the mafia, maybe then he had seen someone, somewhere, take them.

Unfortunately most of Dazai's life experiences before the mafia eluded his own memory and he couldn't remember much.

For the time being he was almost sure this would suffice. The label read “co-codamol” in black neutral characters, he grabbed the container without giving it too much thought, fearing he might pass out if he didn't get moving soon. With a painful sigh, Dazai popped open the lid and with some difficulty he managed to pinch between his fingers a small, white pill. His arms, just like his legs, were not fully responsive due to the pain and soreness.

He stared at his hand as he held his breath momentarily. He considered his options and wondered if such a small thing could do anything to him. He didn't want to be foolish and take too much, but he was worried it wouldn't have any effect on him being such a small dose.

i need to research this things for future reference. i'll take two, just to make sure.

Without any hesitation he reached into the plastic container and grabbed a second pill. He closed the cabinet and took the whole bottle with him.

He swallowed them dryly with great difficulty. His throat was far too dry and, for a second, he thought he might choke. Trying to swallow any medicine without the help of any liquid is hard enough, imagine doing it while dehydrated. He forced the pills down his throat but his body bluntly rejected the medicine and he gagged on them as one of them came back up into his tongue. He grimanced at the soreness it left behind in his throat and decided to chew on it instead of trying to swallow it whole again. His mouth flooded with saliva as the bitterness overpowered his tongue, he took the oportunity to down the last chunks of the pill he hadnt already ingested. The disgusting after taste prevailed on his gums and the insides of his mouth started to go numb.

Gripping the container with his fist and trying to keep calm as he felt the uncomfortable lump on his throat resist his attempts at swallowing the reminder of the pills further down. The brunette was torn between waiting a few moments until he was certain he wouldn't be choking on his way back or leaving immediately and not risking his chances further. He supported his weight leaning against the wall as he mentally prepared himself for the journey that awaited.

Before exiting he glanced around to check if everything seemed amiss and tried to pry the cabinet open again without picking the lock to make sure he had locked it up back again.

everything seems about right, time to get moving.

To be honest Dazai didn't want to stay in there any longer, he didn’t really care where he went as long as it didn't involve surgical elements or medical procedures. 

The brunette allowed himself to sigh shallowly before starting the tortuous path back. Mori wouldn't be pleased with such a display of vulnerability, and neither would i be if i wasn't alone. Dazai stood straight and focused his attention towards his gait. Breathing steadily as he grew accustomed to the pain brought by each step. 

I bet Mori's eager to have me back in the field. 

Dazai was well aware of Mori's intentions to suck him dry, use him as a spawn and treat him like a bad behaved dog. And if Dazai wasn't allowed to die yet, he wouldn't give into Mori's antics so easily. He had been stripped bare of everything the moment he set foot in this world, he was never meant to embody humanity and had learnt to bend destiny's will at his own mercy. Mori hadn't ruined him, he was born putrid. 

Dazai was a shiny toy to Mori, and Mori had yet to break it.

As Dazai moved cautiously throughout deserted halls, choosing the backdoors over the main entryways, an insidious little thought festered on his mind. He thought about his hat-rack of a partner and wondered if Chuuya was back at his own room down the headquarters. He wondered if Chuuya was being tended by Kouyou's calming presence. Dazai wondered if they were sharing a cup of tea while they bickered about how reckless Dazai always was on their most insignificant missions as they shared a mooncake.

Dazai was certain that even if Chuuya was in pain he would be smiling sweetly and tenderly at his Ane-san.

Dazai closed another door behind his back and continued to crawl all the way back to headquarters in the least pitiful way he could manage. There weren't any bystanders nearby the route he chose to take and he was thankful for that.

***

Dazai made it back to the headquarters at 20:03.

He hadn’t taken as long as he thought he would. Halfway through the journey back his limbs -which had been shaking nonstop just a few moments earlier- started to feel like they were being lifted from the floor. They didn’t hurt, they were tingling lightly and Dazai surprised himself by suddenly starting to feel weightless. A genuine calmness engulfed his mind as he realised nothing had ever felt so nice. He wasn't aware it was possible to feel as good as he did in that moment.

As he rested his back against the closed door of his own quarters he let his eyes flutter shut for a minute. Feeling foolish he allowed himself to let out a small quiet chuckle as he appreciated how the pain he had been plagued with for months had being magically lifted off him. At some point his thoughts had started to ressemble the gentle waves of the sea on the sea shore, rolling over the sand and going right back into the ocean, softly, freshly, easily.

His body had stopped aching for good, he didn't remember the last time he wasn't under any pain.

This didn´t carry any unwanted wariness towards his new discovery. He might as well have found the cure for cancer for all he cared about.

The brunette opened his eye again as he strolled around in his own quarters. He realised his cell phone was lying on top of his paperwork at his desk. He also noticed a small slip of paper over it, it had Chuuya’s handwriting on it:

 "heres your phone. text me when you get dismissed from the infirmary we still need to write the report. next time ill make sure to kill you myself if you get beaten up to the point of not being able to drive us back.” 

Dazai chuckled indiscretely once again. Chuuya was a great diversion. Annoying his short partner had become something like a sport for Dazai. Usually, making Chuuya loose his temper and watching his reactions towards different provocations, was a great hobby of his and probably one of the main sources of glee on his everyday life. Another of his few sources of joy was meeting Oda and Ango at Lupin´s and being able to share a few drinks and exchange anecdotes and stories from their time at the mafia.  It was sad really, his life was not a life worth living and he was well aware of it. Usually Dazai didn't allow himself to linger too much on these particular topics since it was a dangerous territory to dive into. It seemed like the pain meds had not only lowered the amount of pain he was feeling through numbing his body but also lowered his inhibitions. He found himself entertaining thoughts he didn't usually let himself have.

Well, you see, Dazai might be the very best at his job, and the most intimidating young promise of the mafia, but even if Mori (and Dazai himself ), have tried to rid the teenager from the pains of being pure at heart that come with childhood and being on his early teens, he still had feelings lurking around in his heart. Deep down he still felt the slightest hints of affection towards some very specific things and some very few people. Dazai still had a heart, against everything that had happened to him and despite everything he has done, he still has a heart. He wouldn't go around displaying his emotions bluntly like the chibi, mainly because he knew better than that, but also because he wouldn't- couldn't -allow himself to be so vulnerable towards the world

"i’d go to Lupin’s and never come back"  Dazai muttered under his breath as he gripped the small bottle of pills that still was on his sweaty hands.

Dazai didn’t text Chuuya (obviously. Chuuya would probably just come barging down his door and make him write that report with him and no thanks.) but he did send a text message to Oda’s phone and asked him where he was and what he was up to.

Dazai went to the small bathroom adjacent to his room and drank water straight from the tap. It felt great. His throat felt great. He looked up and stared at his own reflection. He was used to seeing himself half covered in gauze but for a second he could not recognise the boy who stared back at him.

Half of his face was hidden under patches and bandages and his left eye (his good eye) was bloodshot, his pupil was a small dot right on the middle of his brown, reddish orb. His hair was a mess that he didn’t want to take care of. Gladly his brown locks weren't matted and it would be easy to brush later when he decided to take a proper shower. There were dark bruises that made a stark contrast against his pale skin (now paler, probably because of the amount of blood he lost).

Dazai could not bring himself to give a fuck, he felt like it was an apropiate sight since he barely took care of himself. He carelesly ripped off the hospital gown from his body, leaving it forgotten in a corner on the floor besides the toilet. Dazai stared back at his body letting himself inspect his reflection, something he rarely did nowadays unless it was for wearing a disguise. Dazai felt a twinge of disgust, he knew for a fact that his body could ressemble dome kind of atractiveness if he put effort into it but it was all in vain. He doubted anyone could look at his body willingly, not that he minded, since it wasn't required of him to romantically woo anyone. He had gotten thinner over the months, his torso looked ridiculous with such a big amount of gauze and bandages surrounding it. It didn’t make it better that there were some bumpy areas in which the gauze bundled up. His body looked in bad shape, distorted, as if he was looking at himself through a clown’s mirror.

He shook his head, attempting to rid himself of such silly and useless thoughts. He was starting to feel cold. Shivering, he walked slowly around the small room amazed at how easy it was to move now, after having so much trouble walking a dozen steps back at the infirmary. It must have been because I was just waking up, now that i’ve been moving around for awhile I must have gotten accustomed to the soreness. And yes, he attributed that too to the pain meds. They surely lifted his spirit and made bearing all of these wounds easier.

He realised he had left the tap of the sink open and that there was still water streaming down and went back to close the faucet.

After sitting naked (or as naked as he could be) and shivering idly on his bed for a few minutes he changed into real clothes. He put on gloves and a trench coat and safely tucked his cell phone on his pocket. Dazai stared around for a while, he was taking his time. His gaze fell over the bottle of pills over his desk, it looked out of place sitting there, between books and paperwork. Giving it a second thought he tucked the container on the inside of his coat.

Just to make sure no one comes snooping around. 

He grabbed his crutches before going out, Dazai wasn’t stupid, he knew he would just fuck his leg more if he left without them, even if he didn't feel half as bad as he had when he had just woken up.

He left the Port Mafia headquarters still feeling great, unfortunately, on his way out, he stumbled upon Chuuya. The small hat-rack was (as predicted before) sitting in a couch at the lounge with a cup of tea in his hands, Kouyou was sitting besides him as they talked quietly in a way that could only be described as intimate.

Dazai made eye-contact with the hat-rack and he witnessed the exact moment in which Chuuya’s eyes narrowed as he tried to stand up, only to be stopped by Kouyou.

“Calm down Chuuya...” Dazai couldn’t hear the rest of it because he was already leaving, but he felt Chuuya’s frustrated glare on his back. Dazai let out a small giggle on accident as he exited, feeling naughty and entertained by the small interaction between his parner and him. They’d have to deal with that report later, or rather, Chuuya would have to deal with that report later.

Dazai made his way towards Lupin’s. He hadn’t bothered to check his phone to see if Oda had answered his text message but it was already dark on the streets of Yokohama and Dazai had the feeling that he would find him there. The fresh night’s breeze was cold on Dazai’s face but it felt refreshing as made his way downtown while he hummed under his breath.

***

Dazai had been sitting at the bar for just half an hour before Oda arrived. He had asked for a glass of whiskey and he munched on the complimentary peanuts that he was served. He wasn't as hungry as he should be, but he almost never was anyways. He knew it was on his best interest to ingest some food and although he wasn't really a peanut guy he managed to chew on a handfull and swallow them down.  He was enjoying himself mostly, but he had been waiting for Oda or Ango to show up and he was glad that finally one of them had appeared at their usual meeting place. Dazai was feeling slightly buzzed. He thought it was because he hadn’t eaten anything heartier than a few peanuts. It was an uncommon sight, Dazai usually had a high tolerance for alcohol, he usually mocked Chuuya about it since Chuuya was the lightest light-weight Dazai had ever met. They were still both underage however being a member of the Port Mafia gave them the benefit of being able to aquire alcohol or cigarettes or anything they could afford. Dazai had been introduced to alcohol when he was young (- well, Dazai had been introduced to a dark, dark world when he was born so alcohol was just a drop on the ocean for him.)

Oda greeted Dazai politely, in the same affectionate but guarded manner as always. Before taking a seat next to Dazai, the brunette did not miss the way Oda’s gaze traveled up and down his battered body. Oda did not to comment on it, but Dazai felt a little bit ashamed to be the object of the older man's gaze: Oda didn't need to use words or ask any questions, Dazai felt his preocupation on the way he stared boldly at him. Dazai thought about the sight he confronted earlier that night, on the reflection of mirror, and gulped. He felt uncomfortable knowing that Oda cared for him in a way that nobody else did. Oda had once or twice shared his opinion on the way Dazai took care of himself but he had refrained from doing it again and Dazai prefered it that way.

Dazai started chatting away about different unimportant topics as soon as the bartender served Oda his drink of choice, attempting in a way to divert the attention from his appearance and igniting an easy going conversation between them.

Oda noticed that Dazai was on a good mood, for a change. That was a rare sight but it meant that things were good and it reassured Oda. Dazai was pleasant to be around during times like this.

“Where have you been today Odasaku~?” Dazai smiled hazily and Oda couldn't help himself but wonder how many men had been killed by this kid. Sometimes Oda couldn’t believe he was talking to someone who could probably turn into the youngest mafia executive. Oda frequently felt conflicted whenever he thought about what would the future hold for someone like Dazai.

“It was okay,” Oda’s voice was warm and soft. Incredibly comforting and grounding, especially after leaving Mori’s, or when he felt particularly void of anything. Oda could always work some warmth into his younger heart. “didn’t do anything worth mentioning”

“Aw, come on~” The brunette’s voice was cheery, laced with sweetness and naivety. Oda was well aware that Dazai usually kept a facade around everyone, and he really hoped that Dazai could feel secure enough around him to act more goofily and not so deliberately.

"I drove around for a while looking for some guy, but while I was driving I got to watch the sunset down the shore. It was a beautiful thing to watch." Oda told Dazai.

"Would you take me with you to watch the sunset someday?" Dazai´s eyes were huge, his face hopeful. Oda couldn't tell if it was feigned interest or if Dazai was serious, but he entertained him anyways, deciding to go along with it.

"We could go down the shore and watch the seagulls and the sky as the sun sets." Oda felt a small pang of guilt for saying such things he didn't know if he would be able to fulfill. He didn't know what got into him, and he wasn't sure if it was for Dazai's sake or his own, but he went on and added " If you'd like to we can get dinner in that nearby seafood place after that"

Oda really longed for Dazai to experience normal human things, he was convinced at times that all he needed was somebody to care for him, someone to show him that there were good things in life. After all, Dazai was barely a teenager and had already lived through so much. Tonight, Oda felt especially inclined to his own convictions that Dazai was neither good or bad, that Dazai had merely done all that he had done in life because it is all he has ever known. Because it's what he has had to do in order to survive. That deep down Dazai really wants to live.

Dazai seemed to be taken aback for a moment, his face conveying things that Oda could not completely read. Taking a sip from his glass Dazai seemed bashful before smiling timidly.

"That sounds great" Dazai spoke without looking directly at Oda and didn't see the sincere smile blossom on his older friend. They both knew they would never actually go through any of it, it wasn't meant for people like them, to do such normal plain activities, at least not for people like Dazai. Since Oda was a lower rank on the mafia, he could sometimes enjoy things like walking down the beach and taking off his shoes to feel the cold waves roll on his feet.

Oda felt relief when Dazai wishfuly answered his proposal. Even if they never went through it, he allowed himself to believe that Dazai trusted him and that things could get better for the teenager with time. Oda allowed himself to believe that Dazai could be freed from this dark organisation into a world that wasn´t so hostile, a world that held meaning beyond power and death.

Ango arrived as Oda was still reflecting on their exchange of words. Ango didn't comment on Dazai’s beaten down appearance but he didn't stare either. 

It is a fairly common sight when you work for the mafia. It is also fairly common to forget that Dazai is only sixteen -Ango thought to himself- that kid is more intelligent than a lot of people that I know and he has only been here, on the mafia, for two years at most.

“Ango!” Dazai looked at him with a strange expression on his face, Ango couldn’t decipher what was going on with him but he noted that he must be at least a little drunk from his unfocused gaze. Ango had not seen Dazai for quite a while, and the last time they met he was in a somber mood.  “Do you happen to know what co-codamol is?”

Dazai blurted out his question without thinking too much about it and smiled at Ango expectantly.

Ango thought about it for a moment, taken aback by such a random question. he cleared his throat before answering as he sat down besides Oda.“They’re a prescription pain medicine, it has codeine in it… Why’d you want to know?” Ango signaled to the bartender and asked for a Bloody Mary, frowning slightly in confusion.

Dazai was now looking at Oda in that same unnerving manner, smiling wider, eyes glazed as if he wasn’t really looking at him. “Does that mean I can commit suicide with them?” his voice sounded dreamy.

“I suppose you could.” Oda stared at Dazai. Oda had the same expression he had on his face whenever Dazai talked about committing suicide, a mixture between concern and sadness, an expression too honest for his own good. Oda didn't hide his feelings, it was a flaw as much as it was a virtue.

Dazai giggled intoxicated, he was surely getting drunk. Dazai spinned on his chair before asking for another glass.

Once he recieved a brand new glass filled with whiskey the conversation of suicide was left behind. Dazai started bombarding Ango with questions about people who used to work for the goverment but had been let go this past week. Dazai was noisy and gossipy and it kept Ango and Oda entertained for quite a while as he shared his theories about the special ability's department and why they were firing so many people.  It wasn’t out of character for Dazai to be asking such questions. The only thing that seemed odd to both of his companions was that he kept going and joking around, talking endlessly and laughing all through the night.

At a certain time the brunette hugged himself, realising he was shivering slightly, and felt the small bottle of pills through the layers of clothing he was wearing. He smiled crookedly to himself, he had a backup plan if everything failed.

Taking out his phone he saw that Chuuya had texted him. He would have answered but he was having some trouble focusing his eyes to read whatever the text said. It probably went somewhere along the lines of ‘ you are a fucking bastard, did you know? you will be writing that report alone.’

It was becoming late and Dazai was having trouble standing up, he was completely fucked out of his mind. He didn't realise it but he had gone overboard. He wasn’t thinking straight but he was having fun. The trio had already paid their respective checks (Ango took care of Dazai´s), now they were standing outside freezing, hoping the cold night air could sober Dazai up a bit so he could go back home safely.

“Odasaku~ ! Give me a piggy ride back!” Dazai was giggling, he couldn’t use his crutches. they were having a smoke, Oda kept stealing glances at him weirdly.

“You’re lighting that cigarette from the wrong side.” Ango said amused.

“That’s why it wasn’t working!” Dazai exclaimed amazed, looking at the filtered cigarette he was holding between his fingers. He tossed it and received an already lit cigarette from Oda.

Dazai enjoyed feeling like he wasn’t himself, and in that moment, he definitely didn’t feel like himself, he was anything but the Demon Prodigy.

He kept giggling, unable to contain himself, escalating until he was properly laughing out loud. Oda and Ango helped him keep his balance. It wasn’t a long walk back to the headquarters, but due to Dazai’s leg, which was on a cast, and his uncontrollable fits of laughter it took longer than it would have normally taken.

At this point both Ango was amused as the younger kid laughed and stumbled srunkenly, Oda seemed to be the only one worried, but he remained grateful that they could catch a break from their rutines. Dazai seemed like someone much more outgoing, sincere and content when drunk.

At some point Dazai stopped laughing. Oda knew they couldn’t leave him by himself on his room. He was drunk out of his mind, but neither Oda or Ango could stay with him, they both had things to do. They carried Dazai through the deserted halls of the Port Mafia building, they were trying to be gentle, Dazai was practically dead weight over their shoulders.

“We should call Nakahara-san through Dazai’s cell phone.” Ango suggested.

“Yes, we should.” Oda replied as they opened the door to Dazai’s room.

They laid him on the bed and left his crutches in a corner. Dazai’s room wasn’t big but it wasn't small either. It surprisingly fit a fairly wide bed along with a desk and a wardrobe. Ango straightened his back and fixed his glasses, seeming as professional as ever. Oda searched for Dazai’s phone on his pockets and came across a tiny container of something. He grabbed it with his hand and took it out of Dazai’s pocket. It was a small bottle of pills. He closed his eyes, sighing deeply.

“Hey Ango, don’t worry, i’ll call Chuuya-kun. I know you still have work to do.”

“Thank you Oda,” Ango looked at his wristwatch and nodded “Have a good night.” he said before leaving quietly and closing the door behind him.

Once the door was closed, Oda sighed again. He pinched the bridge of his nose and sat on the bed besides Dazai. He looked peaceful like that, he looked different while sleeping. He grabbed the bottle of pills and turned it around to examine the tag. It read "co-codamol". That must have been why Dazai had been asking earlier about them. He stared at Dazai’s face, he couldn’t help but feel pity that a he had been carried into a hell like this. Suddenly the evening became bittersweet as Oda realised that Dazai must have taken this pain meds along with the whiskey.

Oda left the bottle of pills softly on the desk by the wall. Sighing again and shaking his head as he proceeded to unlock the brunette’s cell phone. He searched in his contacts for Chuuya with no luck, he couldn’t find any contacts under that name. Looking through Dazai's text messages he found that Chuuya was saved under the name of ‘Hat-Rack ♡ (￣З￣)’ on the brunette's contact list. Of course.

It wasn’t too late, it was only a quarter past midnight, so he supposed his partner would be awake. He held the phone near his ear as it ringed. Chuuya picked up on the third ring.

“You fucking piece of shit, you better be dead on a ditch or willing to do the report or i’ll…” Chuuya was interrupted abruptly by someone he didn't expect.

“Good evening Chuuya-kun, you’re talking with Oda Sakunosuke, I apologise for bothering you at this time” He heard Chuuya clear his throat embarrassed.

“ Oh, no. Let me apologise for yelling at you… I just thought it was Dazai- whom if you’re calling to see if he’s with me, he isn’t-”  Oda stared down at Dazai as Chuuya rambled on, he and Chuuya were both young, they remembered him of other children he knew.

“No, don’t worry. I'm with him." Oda continued "And again, I’m sorry to bother you but…” he sighed, he couldn’t hear any background noises coming from Chuuya’s side of the line. “Dazai’s drunk and I’m with him at his room but i don’t think he should be left alone.”

He heard Chuuya groan from the other side “That fu- okay, just give me a sec, i’ll be right there.”

the call was disconnected.

Chuuya got to the room soon after the phone call ended. He was also covered in bandages but not as many as Dazai. He had a slight limp to his walk so Oda guessed that their last mission was the cause for their bruises. Oda had only heard rumors (almost everyone had) about what they were capable of doing. He had been impressed at first, doubtful even,  but now that he knew Dazai he was almost sure they weren’t fake, they couldn’t be fake, Dazai’s eyes told him they weren’t.

“I’m sorry he caused you trouble” said the younger red-head as he politely greeted Oda.

“Don’t worry…” Oda said getting up from his sitting position. Without knowing what else to say he decided he should leave. He knew that underneath all of those insults and all of that banter, Chuuya was really fond of Dazai. “I think i’ll be going, thank you for coming. ”

Chuuya watched the other man leave. Stupid Dazai, always giving everyone trouble. Chuuya knew Dazai often went drinking with that man, but he never got drunk. He got closer to Dazai with some difficulty due to his bad ankle from their last mission and stared at his face, ‘ well, you surely got what you deserved asshole’.

It wasn’t the first time Chuuya had seen Dazai drunk, drunk enough to fall asleep. But it certainly was the first time while Chuuya was sober to witness it. Chuuya had brought a book with him, he hadn’t been planning on going to sleep anytime soon, and he could stay a few hours watching Dazai, making sure he didn’t choke with his own vomit.

And just as that thought went through his mind  Dazai let out a tiny strangled moan and grimaced slightly.

oh no, oh no, fuck no.

Chuuya knew what was about to happen, so he lifted Dazai from his lying position and dragged him to the bathroom. At least Dazai wasn’t completely out of it, he could support his weight as Chuuya guided him and made him kneel in front of the toilet. Dazai mumbled something that didn’t sound like words just as Chuuya groaned loudly and wondered whether it was okay to leave Dazai like that and leave or if he should just stay with him the whole night. Stupid Dazai. Stupid, stupid Dazai.

Chuuya heard a wet splash as Dazai threw up something that looked like bile. Chuuya cursed him out loud this time because- “Stupid bastard, you didn’t even eat before drinking, did you? you are such a big waste of bandages.”

Chuuya was almost sure he heard a quiet chuckle between gags and a soft “Thank you... for coming... hat-rack”

“Yeah Dazai, you better thank me, because i’m going to bring you something to eat from the kitchen and a glass of water and after that i’m going to fucking kill you.”