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Everything hurt.
The sharp snap of his bones breaking was a sound Dazai had long since gotten used to, but the pain that seared his body (white hot agony that left him unable to move, to breathe, to think) was something Dazai could barely hope to endure, much less overcome. Dazai lay crumpled in a heap on the cold stone floor of the training room, shallow breaths rattling in his thin chest as he struggled to steady his breathing.
Three ribs, right radius, left tibia, right clavicle... Without warning, a hammer comes down on his left ankle, shattering the talus bone easily enough it might as well have been made of glass. A cry of pain rips itself from the brunet's throat before he can force it back; apprehension coiling in his gut (or is it fear? emotions are so difficult) at the disapproving tsk that echoes above him.
"Dazai-kun..." Mori's serpentine drawl is nearly enough to make his skin crawl. "It's not much of a lesson on endurance if you give in so quickly..." There's a flash of silver in his peripheral before the flesh of Dazai's uninjured arm splits open under the blade of Mori's scalpel.
Dazai chokes back another scream (whether because of the pain in his chest or the knowledge of what another scream will earn him, he's not sure), but it seems to be enough to satisfy Mori.
"Aha, much better!" Mori laughs, dark eyes focused intently on the prone boy before him. "You must learn to remain completely impassive, no matter the circumstances. Pain can cloud the mind just as easily as any emotion, learning to distance yourself from both is the only way to ensure that you will always be able to find a logical solution." Mori pauses, kneels down and grasps Dazai's chin with frigid fingers. "Do you understand, Dazai-kun?"
"...I do." Dazai replies softly after a few moments, face carefully blank.
"Good boy." Mori releases him and stands, paying no heed to the dull thud of Dazai's head falling back to the floor. "Go get yourself patched up, you have a mission in a week's time." He leaves after that, whistling to himself as if he hadn't just spent the last three hours beating the shit out of Dazai under the guise of a 'lesson' (again).
Dazai means to drag himself to his feet and leave eventually, he really does, but his body seems to have other ideas. Black spots bloom across his vision before his body gives up on him completely, too worn out for anything more. The last thing Dazai hears before he falls unconscious is the soft echo of near-weightless steps across the training room.
When Dazai wakes again, he's laying down on his bed in his assigned room. He takes a cautious breath, surprised when he feels the tug of tightened bandages around his torso (no doubt an effort to help stabilize the rattling in his ribcage.) Bleary eyes blink open as he tries to take in his surroundings; he's laying flat on his back, clad in only what feels like a pair of sweatpants with rolls of bandages, gauze, and other medical supplies strewn around him. The brunet's breath hitches in his throat when he catches sight of Chuuya sitting next to his bed, head lowered as he works on the mess Mori made of his arm.
He doesn't seem to notice that Dazai's awake yet, expression oddly... soft as he works, cleaning and stitching the gash on his arm with steady, yet gentle precision. He must have found some painkillers.. Dazai muses to himself as he watches the tug and pull of the needle threading his skin back together with almost morbid fascination (it's the only possibility, both for the lack of pain and the strange numbness clouding his thoughts.)
It should make Dazai uneasy, feeling so out of touch with his own mind and body (it usually does; as much as he may dislike pain, he's never indulged in painkillers if he could help it), but with Chuuya the feeling is strangely absent. He feels almost... content to lay here while Chuuya carefully pieces him back together (it's a feeling he should stomp down, should lock away in the recesses of his mind and never allow again. Getting emotional over something like this was pointless; Chuuya was just patching him up, there was going to be a mission soon and he needed to have Dazai ready for it, that's all. He should tease him, send Chuuya into a rage and put them both back into familiar territory- )
"Whatever you're scheming shitty Dazai, save it. If you keep twitching my stitches are gonna end up fucking crooked." Chuuya's voice tears him from his thoughts, makes Dazai focus on the bright blue of Chuuya's eyes as the redhead stares him down. Dazai opens his mouth to reply, to spout some utter nonsense excuse about how 'he was not scheming, how rude Chuuya~ ' but the words die on the tip of his tongue. With a small frown, Dazai closes his mouth and rests his head back against the pillow.
Chuuya seems to have gotten the reaction he wanted, because he turns his attention back to his stitches; finishing them up with ease and wrapping Dazai's forearm in fresh bandages. He leans back in his chair once he's done, dragging a hand through his hair before fixing Dazai with another look. "I'm not gonna bother asking what stupid shit you did to get your ass beat up this time, you probably wouldn't tell me shit anyway." Chuuya's scowling at him now, but there are still traces of concern in his body language (Dazai knows the signs well, too well.)
It makes him feel almost guilty, Chuuya's emotions are wasted someone like him.
"Don't wanna talk about it..." Dazai mutters almost childishly, averting his eyes from Chuuya's prying gaze. (It makes him feel vulnerable, human... He hates it.) Mori's words from his 'lesson' earlier echo in his ears, a reminder of what allowing himself to be so human will get him. He shudders involuntarily.
Dazai hears the exasperated sigh that Chuuya heaves before the mattress dips, warmth spreading across his skin from the point where Chuuya sits against his side. The redhead drops a blanket over his partner's body before flopping down on the bed as well, his back to Dazai. "Shut up and sleep then, I'm tired of listening to your stupid ass."
The words are a little quieter now, almost as if they're drowned out by the warmth of Chuuya's body heat against his side. Dazai allows himself to get comfortable underneath the blanket (as comfortable as he can get at least) before closing his eyes again, muttering a soft "goodnight" as drug-induced sleep claims him again.
Chuuya lays awake for a while, listening to the soft sounds of Dazai's breathing (so much better now than when Chuuya dragged him back to this room over four hours ago.) Once he's sure Dazai's out for the count, Chuuya gets up and pulls a small kit out from where he'd stashed it in the pocket of his overcoat. He takes out the bottle of liquid painkillers and proceeds to inject Dazai with another dose to ensure the idiot sleeps through the rest of the night.
Even if Dazai won't let him in all the way, they're still partner's dammit. And Chuuya's gonna make sure the suicidal bastard is taken care of whether he wants it or not.