Hello! Here's the next chapter... I originally had more to say, but the internet seems to hate me today because everything got deleted the first time I tried to post, and then it didn't show up correctly (Thank you for commenting on that by the way, Anon!)

Anyway, thank you all so much for the love this story gets. I hope you all like this chapter!

Enjoy!

Days passed like normal.

Atsushi didn't talk, Dazai didn't care.

Life kept going as though nothing out of the ordinary happened.

It amazed Atsushi to some extent. He'd torn a hole through the door and attempted to escape, before almost getting caught and returning. It felt like a million of things had happened that night, and yet nothing changed.

He tensed whenever Dazai talked to him, half expecting for him to say that he knew of his escape attempt. After a few days, that fear dulled, and he gladly accepted the thing he was almost too scared to acknowledge: Dazai didn't know.

If Atsushi had been more accustomed to feeling proud, he'd have taken some secret pride in that fact. Knowing something that Dazai didn't wasn't something that happened often, if at all. But, he had no right to feel good about himself. If it hadn't been for Oda, Atsushi would have been caught. There was no room for pride in the mix of relief, shame, helplessness, and fear.

"You know you're going to have to talk to me at some point, right?" Dazai said one day. He was perched on the edge of his seat.

Atsushi didn't look up from his chazuke, but his lips twisted into a scowl and he shook his head. He half expected Dazai to suddenly grab him and shake some sense into him, but his teacher remained where he was. Atsushi poked at a sliver of chicken with his chopsticks.

Dazai sighed. "You're being a child," he yawned, stretching his arms in front of him.

Atsushi refused to look up, and kept eating.

"Another execution," Dazai mumbled as he got to his feet. "Be ready in fifteen minutes." He watched Atsushi's face, watching how the boy's eyes widened and his face raise. A pleading look made its way to his features.

"Speak now or forever hold your peace," Dazai taunted, that infuriating smirk pulling the corner of his lip up.

Silence stretched.

Protesting wouldn't save anyone's life. Atsushi wasn't naive enough to assume he could save anyone. If Dazai actually complied with Atsushi's wishes, someone else would be sent to put three bullets through a traitor's chest.

Dazai's face remained unreadable. "Fifteen minutes," he repeated, patting Atsushi on the shoulder.

/-/-/

There wasn't any blood on his hands, not literally at least. He still felt it on his palms and under his fingernails, gritty and sullied. He sat against the white wall, hugging himself and trying to forget the details of the execution.

Light blue. He remembered against his will. His eyes were light blue.

The woman's eyes had been light blue. Had they not been wide and terrified, those eyes would have looked pretty. Her face would have been pretty if her jaw hadn't been broken. Her body would have been healthy and attractive if her chest hadn't been riddled with bullets and her bones hadn't been broken in the preceding fight.

He took a breath in and let it out. You're fine. He told himself, getting up. You're fine. He didn't feel like crying. He'd cried all his tears. Everything's fine.

As quietly as he could, he grabbed one of the books that Dazai had left for him to read in the corner. It'd taken him nearly a month to touch them since the first dissection, but after Oda had saved him, thinking about several things became too hard for him, so he swallowed what shred of pride he had left and read them when he was left alone in his room.

So, he seated himself on his bed and read what he'd been given. Hours must have passed, and bit by bit, he felt calmer. His chest still hurt at the memories of the screams and gunshots, but for the moment, he could push that pain aside. For the moment, he could forget about the beast inside of him, about the suffocating feeling of the walls around him, about Dazai and the Port Mafia. Atsushi felt free when he got lost between the pages of a book.

Without the words and stories, freedom was such a hard feeling to find.

The door swung open slowly.

Atsushi jolted, quickly sliding the book under his bed. He didn't want Dazai to take it as a sign of his forgiveness or submission. I just read it because I was bored. He reminded himself as if it strengthened his resolve. The thought didn't do much for his resolve, so he pushed it to the back of his mind.

Dazai threw him a pointed look as he stepped into the room. Atsushi simply glared, his muscles tensing more and more with every step Dazai took. He was already plenty sore from the injuries he'd sustained earlier, and it didn't take long for his muscles to protest.

His teacher didn't seem to care, Dazai stood in front of him, less than a foot away. Atsushi stared up at him, his lips pressed into a line. Then, he got on his hands and knees, stretching an arm under the bed to pull out the book Atsushi had tried to hide. He came back up with grayish dust particles clinging to his bandages. He didn't comment on the surprised expression on Atsushi face.

"In the future, Atsushi-kun, treat my books with a little more respect." He swiped a hand over the book's cover to clear some of the dust attached to the lettering of the title. Atsushi didn't reply. "If you abuse the privilege to keep books in your room, you'll lose that privilege." He brought the book up and lightly tapped it on the top of Atsushi's head before lowering himself onto the edge of the bed beside Atsushi.

The boy hardly moved, hoping that Dazai would leave him if he didn't react. It was unlikely, but he hated Dazai's presence enough to imagine he'd get bored quickly and go away.

Unfortunately for him, Dazai was more persistent than that.

"You going to reply?"

Atsushi bit his lip to keep from saying anything. He laced his fingers, staring down at his hands as his knuckles turned white.

"No, of course not." Dazai sighed boredly. "How old are you now? Fifteen, right?" His voice rang with his hollow smile. "Yeah, that sounds accurate."

He swallowed as he looked at Dazai, not knowing where the man was going with this.

"Basically, I'm saying that you're too old to give me the silent treatment. It's just annoying at this point."

No response.

Dazai clicked his tongue and raised a hand.

Atsushi tried not to flinch, for he fully expected Dazai's hand to fly out and slap him across the face. But his hand moved too slowly for a painful strike. And he didn't aim for Atsushi's cheek.

Dazai's arm slithered over Atsushi's shoulders, his hand coming to rest on his arm. The action made the boy's whole body tense. With fingers loosely laying on Atsushi's arm, Dazai leaned just a bit closer to him.

"I know you tried to run."

Everything.

Went.

Still.

Atsushi's eyes widened. He couldn't breathe.

Dazai's fingertips were light on Atsushi's arm. It was the sort of threat that could almost be confused for gentleness.

He couldn't feel them. His body went numb. One thought ran through his mind.

Oda-san told him…

Had he really expected to be able to trust someone in the Port Mafia? What made him think he could trust anyone? What had he been thinkin-

"He didn't tell me, if that's what you're thinking," Dazai said as if reading his mind. "He's probably the only Port Mafia member you can trust in that sort of situation." He didn't take his hand off of Atsushi, his grip tightened ever so slightly. "No, Atsushi-kun, you made it plenty obvious on your own."

That comment had Atsushi flinching away from him, but a bandaged hand held him in his place.

"For a few days, you froze up whenever I talked to you." He held out his index finger with his free hand. "You tried to avoid eye contact with me instead of glaring." He held up two fingers. "And you kept pressing your lips together like you wanted to keep from blurting something out." He waved three fingers in front of Atsushi's face. "Those things alone were enough to make me suspicious. On top of that, you weren't great at cleaning up after yourself. I found a few weird slivers of wood on your bedroom floor." His voice was devoid of a smile as he added, "You missed some of the smaller pieces of the door that landed in here. I'm just a bit disappointed in you for being so obvious."

He didn't speak for a moment, and Atsushi assumed he was about to beat him and be done with it. Or drag him away to Mori.

He didn't do either.

"You were lucky Odasaku was the one who found you. Anyone else would have tossed you in our detention center or have brought you to Mori-san." Dazai gestured to the door. "He was even nice enough to put his life on the line to help you cover your tracks." There was a razor edge to his voice, something cold and scary that Atsushi wasn't sure he'd heard before.

He started to tremble in Dazai's grip, too shocked with fear to question why Dazai called Oda "Odasaku."

Dazai knew.

He knew about his pathetic escape attempt, and even worse, he knew that Oda had tried to help him hide it.

He'd probably known from the moment he'd stepped into the apartment.

That image came back again. That image of Oda lying on bloodstained pavement with a broken jaw and bullet holes through his chest. Guilt wrapped around him, feeling every bit as restrictive as Dazai's hand.

"Please," Atsushi managed, his voice rough from little use. He looked at Dazai, his eyes beginning to feel wet. "Please, don't hurt him." Dazai raised an eyebrow at him. "I'll accept whatever punishment you choose for me, just… I-It was my fault, not his."

He stared into Dazai's cold, calculating eye for a minute, knowing that his pleas were likely falling on deaf ears. His teacher's lip curled in disgust. He felt his stomach twist as he prepared himself for the worst.

He's a traitor and you're going to carry out the execution.

He's already dead, Atsushi-kun.

I tried to give you a chance, Mori-san can maim you and sell you for parts until you die for all I care.

Dazai exhaled through his mouth. Annoyance colored every inch of his face.

"Don't be daft, Atsushi-kun," he said, disdain filling his tone. His fingers released Atsushi's arm and lightly slapped him on the cheek. His uncovered eye narrowed. "He's one of the few people I actually respect."

Dazai's words took a minute to register in Atsushi's brain.

"What?"

"Hmm," Dazai hummed, seeming to bore of the conversation. "I guess he didn't tell you that part." He shrugged. "Odasaku and I drink together every so often."

Atsushi blinked. So, Oda-san is safe then...He thought, slumping. The tension leaked from his muscles, which seemed to cry from being strained for too long. He leaned forward, elbows on knees, and face in hands. He let himself sigh quietly.

He knew it was too early to be relieved. He did recognize that Dazai hadn't excused him for his escape attempt yet, but for a moment, he couldn't help it.

"I'm a little offended," Dazai said after a minute. Even in his exhausted state, Atsushi tensed. His hand on Atsushi's shoulder tightened. "I saved you from a firing squad." Once again, his free hand came up to emphasize his point. "I let you stay here even though you're a danger to have around." His voice took a darker tone that Atsushi hadn't expected. "I kept you clothed and fed. And you repay me like this? With a lackluster escape attempt and endangering one of the few people I actually like?"

Atsushi didn't reply, his mouth as dry as paper.

"Well?" Dazai prompted coldly. "Is there anything you want to say to defend your actions?"

The corners of Atsushi's lips pulled downward. He hated Dazai. He hated him. "You only did those things to use me," he managed, his throat tightening as he spoke. His anger burned and bubbled up inside of him. He tried to jump from his place on the edge of the bed, but Dazai's grip on him tightened, forcing him to stay where he was, quaking with rage. "You're making it sound like I took advantage of your kindness or something," His voice rose with every word. "But everything you ever gave me was so you could control me!"

His rage kept building, making his words get louder, making him braver or stupider. His head hurt from it. Pressure built against his skull, blood boiling and breaking bone. "Would you put a bullet through my head if I stop being useful?! What-"

"Killing you would be a waste. Mori-san wouldn't be happy with me if that happened." Dazai's voice was calm, and though it shouldn't have caught Atsushi off guard, it did. He adjusted his hold on his student. "I'll admit to the manipulation at least." He pulled Atsushi closer, his arm tightening around the boy's shoulder. "I suggest you listen to me very carefully, Atsushi-kun," he said, his voice low and threatening. "I could have made just as much use of you if I'd kept you in a cage, and I still can."

Atsushi felt the blood drain from his face, his burst of courage melting into nothing. In a matter of moments, his blood had turned to ice.

"It wouldn't be difficult or expensive even," Dazai continued. "As you know, the Port Mafia occasionally deals in animal trafficking. I could easily find a cage that you'd fit in." He paused, letting that information sink in, watching Atsushi's skin become palid. "Though, it'd be small, big enough for you to come in and out, but I'm not sure you'd be able to stand up straight."

The boy started shaking in his grasp again. This time from fear rather than anger.

"It sounds rather dull, doesn't it?" Dazai remarked, his fingers loosening on Atsushi's shoulder. "Sitting alone in the dark, unable to move, waiting for me to let you out so you can be used as a tool for an assignment." He grabbed Atsushi's chin and forced him to make eye contact. "I didn't intend to only use you as a pawn, Atsushi-kun. I wanted you to rise up in the Port Mafia because I believe you have the potential." Dazai let go of Atsushi, sighing and throwing up his arms melodramatically. "But if you absolutely insist on being nothing more than a weapon, I suppose I'll accommodate you."

He could not go back to a place like that. He could not stay put in the stifling darkness.

"N-No!" Atsushi managed, sounding like he was drowning and gasping for air. His shoulders shook. "I'm sorry I tried to run. Please… Please don't… I can't..." He trailed off, staring at his hands because it was easier than staring at Dazai's unfeeling eye. "I don't want that," he whispered.

Pleas and grovels had never gotten him far with Dazai, but he'd never fully lost the habit of begging for mercy in desperation. His eyes began leaking again, and he didn't bother to wipe away the tears.

"Atsushi-kun, look at me."

Atsushi obeyed immediately.

"Don't pull a stunt like that again."

Atsushi nodded.

"Will I have to threaten caging you in the future?"

Atsushi shook his head, his throat too constricted to talk. Instead, his lips moved to form a nearly silent "No."

"Good," Dazai said, raising a hand to pat Atsushi on the head. He wasn't blind to the way Atsushi winced at his touch, nor was he deaf to the frantic gasp Atsushi took in. "I'm glad that order of business is settled." He rose from the bed in one fluid motion. "I'm getting a drink."

He paused when he reached the door, glancing back at his apprentice crumpled with defeat on the bed. "Huh, I guess since you busted a hole through the old door, you can control your powers well enough." He smiled. "So, you don't need to be barricaded in here anymore." He glanced at his feet and boredly kicked away the doorstop. "That'll be something to get used to." He backed up a pace. "You're making progress."

Atsushi didn't move for an hour after Dazai left. He remained on his bed, curled into a ball.

It was surprising to say the least.

He should have been bleeding.

He should have been bruised.

He should have been handed over to Mori.

Yet, none of that happened.

He was lucky.

He was so, so lucky.

At the same time, he was trapped.

Somehow, he was so much more trapped ever.

/-/-/

The sunset soaked the city in a scarlet light. Dazai pushed the door open. The scent of liquor greeted him like a close friend.

Like normal, he took a stool at the counter and ordered a drink, tapping his fingers against the ball of ice in his drink before taking a sip.

The scraping sound of the door opening filled the bar.

"So," Dazai said, bobbing the chunk of ice in his drink before looking up to see Oda. "What did you think about my apprentice?"

He said it as casually as saying "hello."

Oda didn't react, his face remaining neutral. Nearly as unreadable as Dazai's face.

"You're the only one who wouldn't drag him back to the boss, and go so far to install a new door." They sat in silence for a moment. "Thanks for that, by the way," he mumbled, drumming his fingers against the counter. His one uncovered eye narrowed. "It would have been a shame to lose him. There's so much potential there, you know? He just needs to accept his place in all of this." He paused, and in a far less serious voice he added, "Plus, it would have been irritating to call someone to replace the door."

"He was panicked when I saw him… Hysterical even," Oda interjected softly. "What you're putting him through can't be good for him."

Dazai shrugged, taking a larger sip of his liquor. "He'll be fine. Overall, he's more resilient than he looks." He stretched his arms out before turning back to Oda. "He seemed okay after I talked to him about his little venture outside. A bit shaken because he probably thought I didn't know, but he's alright. No hyperventilating, so that's good."

Oda didn't say anything for a minute, his face still hard to read, but his brows were furrowed. "What did you-"

"Relax," he interrupted quickly, sensing what Oda was about say. "I didn't punish him. I didn't even lay a hand on him." He trailed off, but spoke up again. "Well, I did lay a hand on him, but I didn't punch him or throw him across the room or anything extreme." He played with his ice in his drink. "Just gave him a stern talking to."

Some tension in Oda's shoulders eased. It was one of those miniscule details that most people would miss. He kept his face neutral, his eyes still piercing.

Both went silent for a few minutes, drinking and letting their minds wander a bit.

"Are you going to try to convince me to let him go or keep the promise you probably made to Atsushi-kun?"

Oda didn't speak.

Dazai didn't say anything either.

"Okay," Dazai replied to silence.

"Don't hurt him, Dazai. Just… Don't hurt him. It won't end well if you keep pushing him like this." He sighed, taking another sip. "You could end up with another Q on your hands."

Dazai hummed with disdain at the mention of Q. "True," he muttered. Yawning, he traced the rim of his glass. "I had considered that possibility. The last thing the Port Mafia needs is another like that child." He shrugged, smiling slightly. "I'll take measures to ensure that doesn't happen."

They both took long swigs from their drinks.

"Enough about Atsushi-kun," Dazai declared, slamming his drink on the wooden counter melodramatically. "When do you think Ango's going to show up?"

"I don't know," Oda said, agreeing to change topics. "He's taking his time."

Tada! Feel free to review!

I'd say more, but I have some homework to do.

Thank you for reading!