Hello!

It has been FOREVER since I've updated this story. I've been kind of busy.

So, I hope you all enjoy this new chapter.

After a few months, Atsushi had managed to convince himself that their situation was getting better.

He still had nightmares, he still stumbled over his words when he spoke to Dazai, but he no longer flinched at the sound of Dazai's voice. He didn't feel like he was walking a line between life and death whenever he looked into Dazai's eyes.

His relationship with Dazai was… strange. He couldn't find any other word to describe it. He could always defer back to saying that he was Dazai's apprentice, but the energy between them hadn't felt like it had in the Port Mafia for a long time. He couldn't easily believe that he was a prisoner anymore. Though Dazai didn't give him the option to leave, "prisoner" wouldn't be a completely accurate word to use.

They weren't friends. To Atsushi's understanding, friends were meant to stand equal to each other. He wasn't at that point with Dazai… He still had no idea where either of them stood.

Atsushi supposed that saying they were just two people in a lifeboat would be the closest approximation.

For now, they were just surviving together.

After a while of living in such close quarters with Dazai, Atsushi started to pick up on the tiny, almost invisible signs that Dazai was thinking hard about something, which was often. It seemed he was always strategising.

Atsushi had felt Dazai's eyes on him for the past few days, and despite their shifting dynamics, it was still nerve wracking. Back in the Mafia, whenever he got the feeling that Dazai was watching him, it was a bit of a bad omen since nothing good came of it.

"You were out for longer than expected," Dazai said when Atsushi returned to their suite. He fixed him with a hard glare. "I almost went out to find you."

"Sorry," Atsushi mumbled, lowering his head and hugging the paper bag closer to his chest. He said nothing more. He wasn't willing to give any of the excuses he had.

We've been sharing a room for the past three months and I needed space.

I needed some time outside.

I got lost on the way back.

None of those statements would inspire any trust or understanding, so he kept them to himself.

Dazai sighed. "You know, it's hard to give you more independence when you disappear for so long."

"I was only gone for an hour." Atsushi pulled some of the groceries out of the bag. "No one saw me," he added, hoping that would help.

"And how do you know that for sure?"

"I just do," Atsushi said, frustration beginning to creep into his voice.

He hadn't known for sure. He just didn't sense eyes on his back.

He expected a sarcastic response.

Oh, you 'just know,' that's safe.

Atsushi could feel his face heat. Dazai was probably right. Dazai was almost always right. However, he was tired, and it was too early in the day to have this kind of conversation with Dazai. Arguments with Dazai never ended in Atsushi's favor, so he figured that it was best to let the whole thing drop before it escalated.

"I'll spare you the lecture," Dazai said after a few heartbeats of silence. "It would honestly be more of a punishment for me than it would be for you."

Atsushi didn't blink at that statement. Dazai hardly lectured him outside of their combat practices. Dazai had never been much for lectures, inside or outside the Port Mafia.

They spent the next few minutes in silence.

"How long before we move again?" Atsushi asked quietly.

Dazai stretched out on his bed, holding his book above his face. "Not long… A few days at most."

"Are they even still looking for us?" Atsushi asked.

It was a stupid question, he knew that. Maybe he was just sick and tired of moving from one place to another, of never being able to get comfortable.

"Mmm…" Dazai hummed.

Atsushi sensed the kind of answer he would get before Dazai even opened his mouth. "Think about it for a moment, Atsushi-kun," he said tiredly. "I used to be the youngest executive. I know hundreds of their secrets, and have enough information to put every member away for several life sentences. If they don't try to drag me back, I'd be lucky if they broke my jaw and shot me through the chest." He paused. "And you…" He trailed off when Atsushi's muscles tensed. "Best not to get careless," he concluded.

Atsushi turned away, hoping Dazai would let the topic drop.

"Other people are still hunting you," Dazai said after a moment as though he'd suddenly decided that it was better to keep going than to let Atsushi out of this conversation. "You remember when I told you that?"

"I thought that was all a lie," Atsushi mumbled. "You told me that when you shot me."

"Well, it was a half truth. Not a complete lie." He sighed and massaged his temples. "In a way, the Port Mafia offered you some protection. Other groups couldn't easily get their hands on you while you were already claimed by a gifted organization."

Atsushi bristled at that, wanting for a moment to deny that, to say that the Port Mafia had given him nothing aside from scars and pain and blood on his hands that never washed away. He clamped his mouth shut. Probably best to drop it.

"I thought you said you weren't going to lecture me," he muttered.

Dazai shrugged. "You asked a question and I gave you a wonderfully detailed answer. It's hardly a lecture."

Atsushi shuffled to his bed, grabbing a book from the nightstand before flipping through it. He focused on the words on the page, not wanting to look at Dazai, not wanting to be reminded of the situation they were in, and how quickly it could all fall apart.

Tension settled in the room after a few minutes of silence, saturating the very air they breathed. It weighed heavily in Atsushi's lungs like he'd inhaled lead. He should have gotten used to it by now. All of his possible mistakes of that day, pressed on his mind, making his head hurt. He could have given away their location… He could have been dragged back.

"I'll do better," Atsushi murmured, his voice so faint that he almost couldn't hear himself speak. "I'll be more careful."

Dazai glanced at him, offering him a slight nod. "Good."

Whether Dazai believed him or not was unclear. He was as unreadable as ever.

I don't like this… Atsushi wanted to say. I hate staying inside for days at a time. I feel like I can't breathe in here. He couldn't say that aloud though; it felt wrong to complain to Dazai like that. He should have been grateful that Dazai brought him along at all. He knew he was a dead weight on the man, and grousing about how much he hated staying in hiding wouldn't help anything.

/-/-/

Dazai allowed him to leave the suite on his own again after ten days.

That was ten days that Atsushi was confined to a small space with Dazai. Somehow lethargic and on edge at the same time.

Sure, they'd gotten a little time outside of the suite, but it'd been short. It was only so Dazai could continue with Atsushi's combat practice and to move to a new place.

Atsushi supposed he could have left while Dazai slept. He could have maybe slipped out for a few minutes if only to get some fresh air. But, as much as he'd wanted to leave, he'd decided that it would be better to follow Dazai's instructions. Not being on thin ice with Dazai was a feeling that Atsushi wasn't quite used to yet, but he knew that he prefered it this way. So, he'd been mostly compliant for Dazai.

So, that meant asking for permission rather than forgiveness. And every day for the past ten days, he'd received answers like, "Not today," "No," "No, you're not getting Vitamin D deficiency," and "It's not that big a deal."

"Don't stay out too long," Dazai said as Atsushi tugged on a jacket. "I know you like being outside, but the more you're in public, the greater risk of us getting caught."

Atsushi nodded. "I know." He looked up at Dazai, looking him in the eyes, something he was getting more and more used to doing. "It's just a trip to get groceries."

"If you stay out for longer than forty-five minutes this time, I will come and drag you back here."

Atsushi didn't respond to that. He didn't know how to, and he couldn't even tell if Dazai was joking or being serious. He sounded serious…

"Also, pick up canned crab," Dazai called after him as he walked away. "You forgot it last time, and I had to make an extra trip out just to get some."

"Right," Atsushi said back.

And that was that. He'd finally get a little time outdoors and on his own.

When he exited the hotel and walked into the gentle warmth of afternoon, he inhaled deeply.

Ten days since he'd been able to breathe- like really breathe- fresh air. It felt amazing now.

He glanced at the sky; it was covered by clouds.

I wonder if it'll rain. He thought as he started walking down the street. He wouldn't mind some rain; the air was warm enough that he doubted the rain would be absolutely frigid. And getting soaked on the way back to the hotel wasn't a terrible fate.

/-/-/

By the time he was finished grocery shopping, the air smelled damp with oncoming rain. The clouds were darker now, hanging lower in the sky, weighed down by water. There was no doubt that it would rain now.

He still had about ten minutes before his time was up. He wanted to use every second of his free time, but it would probably be wiser to return to Dazai before too long. He knew that if he got back late again, Dazai would scold him for it, and more importantly, Dazai likely wouldn't let him leave their suite for weeks. So, Atsushi reasoned that it would be better to get back early.

A few minutes into his trip back to the hotel, the air had been transformed into a fine mist, which somehow managed to seep through his clothes and soak him to the bone.

"Hey, Nakajima," a voice said in a low tone.

Atsushi paused. Not his smartest move.

He realized his mistake immediately, and forced himself to keep walking as though he hadn't heard his name called out by a voice that didn't belong to Dazai.

Unfortunately, moving quickly wasn't enough to cover up his mistake. He'd taken all of two steps before a hand caught his shoulder and yanked him into the alley he'd been passing.

He yelped as he was dragged, his blood suddenly feeling several degrees colder than it should have been.

The grocery bags fell from his hands as he was shoved against a brick wall. It knocked the oxygen from his lungs. He saw dark spots as the back of his head slammed against bricks.

Atsushi crumpled to the ground, his coordination thrown off. "I-I-" He tried to say something, but he could hardly speak. His lungs still ached.

"So," his abductor said, grabbing him by the hair and jerking Atsushi's head so he was facing him. "You're Dazai-san's apprentice."

Atsushi blinked at him, finally able to take in details as his vision cleared.

It was one of those men… The ones Atsushi had never known personally. He was one of those men who had followed Dazai's orders. One of those men who carried guns and wore suits and shaded glasses to hide their eyes.

"Who?" Atsushi managed, hoping to find some way out of this.

The man paused, and Atsushi swallowed hard and tried to act calmer than he felt.

"I-I think you have the wrong person," he blurted out. "I'm not Nakajima… I-I'm Nakashima." He continued quickly, unable to slow himself down as he was on the verge of panic. "The name sounded similar so I stopped, but then I realized that you said Nakajima, and I-"

Slap!

Atsushi tasted blood. Tears flooded his eyes before he could stop them. He hadn't been struck in a while; somehow, he'd managed to forget how it felt to be backhanded.

"Don't try to play dumb with me."

Slowly, Atsushi raised his eyes from the pavement and turned to look the man in the face.

"Your mentor defected from the Port Mafia with you in tow," he said as though Atsushi didn't already know that part. "How about you tell me where to find him?"

Why he phrased it as a question or suggestion, Atsushi had no idea. It was clearly meant to be an order.

He must have taken too long to answer because the man took a fistful of Atsushi's hair and smashed his head against the wall.

"Answer," he growled.

Atsushi moaned as an ache crawled through his head.

He swallowed down metallic tasting saliva and tried to think of something to say.

"I… I don't know where Dazai-san is…" he said softly, his words almost completely drowned out by the sound of light rain and the city's noises. "I escaped on my own."

That answer earned him a scoff and a rough blow to the head.

He didn't know for sure why he'd decided to lie about that. Atsushi still hadn't figured out what Dazai was to him… or what he was to Dazai for that matter.

Maybe deep down, he felt like he owed Dazai something… The man had taken him with him instead of leaving him to the mercy of the Port Mafia.

Atsushi wasn't sure…

"You really expect me to believe that you managed to stay hidden without his help?"

Atsushi glanced down at the pavement. Admittedly, it didn't sound all that believable… even to him.

"O-Okay… Fine," he said, trying to sound steadier than he felt. "That was a lie… He took me with him when he left, but…" Atsushi paused, shrinking back against the wall and biting his lip. "Dazai-san left me." His voice cracked when he said those last few words. "I don't know where he is now."

"That's a little more credible," the man said, looking over Atsushi's soaked and trembling form. His hand curled around Atsushi's throat. "But you aren't a very good liar." He sighed boredly. "I was hoping to kill two birds with one stone and find both of you today." Then, he shrugged. "They'll get answers out of you when there's a proper interrogation."

Atsushi's body went rigid.

It was all sinking in now, pressing against him at every angle as if he was being dragged into deep water.

He'd been careless… too eager to get outside… too eager to have some time to himself…

And now…

Now he was going to pay for that… This man would haul him back to the Port Mafia.

No...He thought. No, no, no, no, no….

Atsushi bit down on his lip. There had to be some way out…

He looked back up at his captor, who had pulled out his phone and was beginning to punch in a few numbers.

Atsushi's body moved before his mind could. He punched the guy so hard in the jaw that his knuckles hurt.

Then he bolted.

If he could just reach the main street and blend in with anyone out there, he could return to Dazai and Dazai would do something-come up with a plan, and get them to safety.

He was almost out, the ground beginning to feel slick from the rain beneath his feet.

A hand caught the collar of his shirt and yanked him backwards.

He fell on his back, gasping and convulsing against the man's touch.

"I was told you wouldn't put up a fight," the man said, seeming to talk more to himself than to Atsushi. Then, he grabbed the front of Atsushi's shirt before hauling him up and throwing him against the brick wall.

Atsushi's vision was beginning to go blurry again, black dots crawling in from his peripherals.

A hand closed around his throat, lifting him slightly so his toes were grazing the pavement.

He couldn't breathe… He couldn't breathe!

Tears began rising in his eyes again as he tried and failed to fill his lungs with air. Atsushi kicked into empty air, his heels only hitting the wall.

The hand on his throat was crushing his airway.

He flinched hard when he felt a pinching sensation in the side of his neck.

His vision started to go patchy.

What had Dazai said?

There was a-a vein? No! It was an artery… Right by the throat… Press on it…

Atsushi couldn't recall more information than that, but he had some idea of what to do…

He thrust his arm out, trying to reach his captor's neck.

Never had something so close seemed so far away…

Atsushi's fingers could just graze his throat.

Just a little further…

Every muscle in Atsushi's body strained to reach, to press against the man's arteries and put an end to the suffocation.

If I could only reach…

His vision darkened more and more with every passing second.

Then, there was only blood.

The hand around Atsushi's neck went limp, and both Atsushi and the man tumbled to the ground.

Atsushi gasped, trying to fill his lungs with air. He coughed hard, trembling as he tried to catch his breath. His vision cleared slowly, black spots retreated out of his vision.

He froze.

Atsushi smelled blood… Lots of it. He looked down, finally seeing the corpse before him.

He bit back a scream and scrambled back, his back hitting the wall with a thud. The sounds of the city and the patter of rain turned to buzzing static to his ears. Dazed, he looked down at his hands.

One of them was a human hand, the other… was a claw, white fur dyed red.

Suddenly, it was like a hand was clamped around his throat again- it was like he was being ripped apart again.

I killed him...Atsushi thought. I killed him, his brain repeated, as though he couldn't quite wrap his head around the fact without emphasis.

Atsushi had killed before… He'd shot bullets through people's chests. But that had all felt different. That had been him following orders, reluctantly. Those kills hadn't been a stupid mistake like this one had been. They hadn't been a sudden loss of control.

He was going to drag you back to the Port Mafia. Some part of his brain reasoned.

Despite that fact, Atsushi couldn't get the shaking under control. He couldn't stop feeling how terrifyingly warm the blood was on his skin.

The light rain picked up, and suddenly the clouds were pouring down buckets of rain. It was cold.

Raindrops trailed down Atsushi's face, washing away some of the blood in the process.

But it didn't wash away the smell. It hardly dulled the sharp metallic stench of blood. Instead, the scent overpowered the rain's scent as though nature itself was polluted by what Atsushi had done.

He shoved his fist against his mouth to stifle the wails that built up in the back of his throat.

Blood wasn't a new sight for him. He'd seen it and felt it a million times before now, and he'd sat in pools of it every night after he closed his eyes...And yet, he gagged and cried and trembled like it was his first time seeing it.

Don't look...He told himself. Just… Don't look at it.

Of course, the more he told himself to look away, the more his gaze fixated on the ragged flesh and reddish puddles, which were slowly lightening to a softer hue thanks to the rain. Nausea clenched his stomach after a minute, and he covered his eyes, trying to breathe past the overwhelming smell of blood.

It made him dizzy. It made him sick.

He didn't know how long he stayed like that, teetering on the edge of puking his guts out, but it felt like days.

"Atsushi-kun?"

He flinched hard at the voice. Then he got ahold of himself, swallowed down the bile that seemed to endlessly rise in his throat, and looked up.

Dazai stared down at him, his lips pressed into a fine line, his eyes harder than Atsushi had seen them in a long time. Then, he exhaled through his nose and crouched across from Atsushi. His features softened a bit, and he looked his student over before firmly taking hold of his wrists and unwrapping his arms from around his legs, unfolding him bit by bit.

"Can you tell me what happened?"

Atsushi nearly choked on the words when he tried to say them.

I killed him.

Three words. One sentence. That was all it was, all it should have been, but it felt so much bigger as if the words were physical masses lodged in his throat.

I killed him…

"I-I…" He couldn't get the words out. He choked on them when he got too close to putting them into the air.

"Nevermind," Dazai said. "You don't have to say it." He looked over his shoulder at the corpse with an expression that seemed to say, I can see what happened.

Atsushi slumped forward, wanting nothing more than to curl in on himself again. Any ounce of strength he had left drained out of him like water through a sieve.

What was going through Dazai's head now?

I should have left you back in the Mafia.

What have you done?

Looks like you finally grew the guts to kill someone.

Keeping you is too much of a risk. You're on your own.

He'd failed so badly and so terrifically. Dazai could be thinking any one of those things and Atsushi couldn't blame him.

"Take a deep breath," Dazai said as he reached for Atsushi's shoulder. His hand didn't mould to the curve of his frame, and when Dazai rubbed his shoulder, the movement felt wooden and awkward, even so, he suddenly wanted to cry all over again.

Atsushi bit his lip, trying to keep what little composure he still had.

"Are you hurt?"

He shook his head, though Atsushi wasn't entirely sure he was being honest. Everything hurt, but chances were none of his injuries were serious.

Dazai must not have believed him because he put a hand under Atsushi's chin and tilted his head up, searching for cuts or bruises under the dried blood that had managed to stick to his skin despite the rainfall.

"It's not my blood," he said softly, his voice quivering. Then, "I didn't mean to…" A small, pained sound pushed its way from his throat. "I-He knew who I was and-"

"Now's not the time to explain, can tell me later."

"-I tried to do what you-"

"Quiet," Dazai hissed, his voice suddenly sharper than it had been a second ago.

Atsushi tensed before the trembling he'd been trying so hard to suppress worsened.

Dazai cursed under his breath and put his hands on Atsushi's shoulders. "Now isn't the time, alright?" He pulled Atsushi forward a little. "Alright?" He repeated when Atsushi didn't respond after a minute.

Slowly, Atsushi nodded.

"Good," Dazai said as he started to peel off his coat, which proved difficult since he was soaked to the skin. "Your clothes are too stained for people to ignore." He pulled Atsushi a little further forward, and laid his coat over Atsushi so it covered the top of his head and rested against his body like a cloak.

The feeling was eerily familiar.

Atsushi followed Dazai's instructions numbly, wrapping the coat around his body. It was warmer than he expected, still wet and cold and heavy from the rain, but the extra layer was something of a comfort as it hid his bloodstained shirt. Dazai grabbed the back of the coat, pulling it so it obscured Atsushi's face a little more.

"Can you walk?"

Atsushi nodded again.

He could still walk, right? Save a few bruises, his legs were fine.

Atsushi crumpled to his knees almost as soon as he was on his feet. His legs shook too badly to stay up when he tried again.

No. I can still walk. I just-I need to-

"We don't have time for this," Dazai broke into his thoughts. He paused, looking to the side before picking something up off the ground. It was some kind of syringe. "It looks like he drugged you." He looked at Atsushi. "That would explain why you can't stand right now; it's still running its course."

Atsushi's throat constricted. "No, I can-" He managed. "I just… I just… " He didn't know what to say. He looked down because it was hard to look Dazai in the eyes. Atsushi's cheeks felt wet, and he knew it wasn't from the rain.

"It's fine, it's okay," Dazai said quietly like he was trying to calm a spooked animal-which to some extent- he was.

He got down to his knees and turned his back on Atsushi.

Atsushi blinked, holding Dazai's coat closer around his body.

"Can you get your arms around my shoulders?" He asked, glancing over his shoulder.

"I-" Atsushi stopped himself. He gave up his protest. He was exhausted, too tired to argue with Dazai. So, he obeyed, feeling increasingly awkward as he pulled himself closer to his mentor.

Dazai's arms reached back around under his legs to keep Atsushi steady.

"Stay still, okay?" He said when Atsushi started to squirm.

Atsushi nodded against Dazai's shoulder, shutting his eyes tightly when he accidently looked at the body. He felt Dazai move around a little and heard the rustle of something plastic or something along those lines. If he had to guess, he'd say that Dazai was covering the body with a tarp he'd found somewhere in the alley.

Then they were moving.

"Where are we going?" Atsushi asked after several minutes.

"Another place to hide out," Dazai replied softly.

Dazai's bandages rubbed against Atsushi's temple, and he could smell that slight antiseptic scent that normally clung to bandages. His arms ached from clinging for so long. On top of that, everything still hurt. But Atsushi didn't dare complain… He'd caused enough trouble already.

He'd killed someone out of a stupid moment of uncontrol. He'd forced Dazai to come looking for him. He'd screwed up whatever plan Dazai had had for keeping them hidden, he knew that. At this point, he was just grateful that Dazai hadn't simply abandoned him in that alley.

"My cousin's first time at a bar," Atsushi heard Dazai say to someone as the shoulder his chin rested on raised and lowered. "Who knew he'd be such a lightweight?"

Someone chuckled and then everything was quiet again.

It was maybe another twenty minutes before they were in yet another motel room.

Dazai sat down on a bed, letting Atsushi off his back.

"How are you feeling?" Dazai asked, helping Atsushi peel off his coat.

"I'm okay," Atsushi said quietly. It was a lie, somewhat. He didn't feel okay. He felt like the ground itself was caving in beneath him and every second, it consumed him more and more. He did not feel 'okay,' but he didn't want to complain to Dazai.

"Alright."

Dazai folded his hands in his lap, taking a moment to sigh. A muscle in his face twitched as if he was trying to keep from getting angry. "Stay here. I'll be back in a little while."

"No!" Atsushi cried, grabbing Dazai's wrist.

The word was out of his mouth before he could stop it.

Dazai looked almost startled. Atsushi swallowed hard and looked down, any layer of composure stripped away. "Please don't leave…"

It was something he'd never thought he'd ever say. He knew how desperate it sounded. And despite that, he couldn't find it in himself to pretend he hadn't meant it.

Dazai sighed and massaged his temples before getting up and walking across the room to grab some towels and set them down on the bed next to Atsushi. "I won't take too long, Atsushi-kun." He pried Atsushi's fingers from his wrist. "You'll be safe."

Atsushi doubted that he'd be safe ever again.

"I don't want to be alone," he murmured, his face reddening when he said it. The full feeling of how pathetic he must have sounded and looked pressing down on him.

"I have an errand to run," Dazai said.

You're going to get rid of the body… Atsushi thought, the knowledge making him queasy.

His expression must have given away what he was thinking because Dazai's features hardened. "Do you want to come help me with it?" He asked, his voice cold and sardonic as he lost his patience for a second.

Atsushi froze.

It took a moment before Dazai sighed again, muttered a tired apology, and got to his knees to be at eye level with Atsushi. "Just stay here, okay?" He put his hands on Atsushi's shoulders. Atsushi flinched hard at the contact, and Dazai pulled back, his hands inches away from Atsushi's shoulders. He dropped his hands to his sides. "It'll be fine. I promise I'll come back. I need you to stay put. Can you do that for me?"

Atsushi swallowed hard and pulled his knees to his chest, his muscles feeling weak and tired from the movement. "Yes." Defeat and guilt made his chest feel tight.

"Good boy," Dazai said, carding a hand through Atsushi's bloodstained hair. His hands were as they had been in the alley. Mechanical. Unsure. Fingers as stiff as a corpse's.

Then, he got to his feet and started to leave.

"Dazai-san," Atsushi managed, his voice choked.

"What?"

His words caught in his throat for a moment. Tears made speaking hard.

"I'm sorry," he finally said.

The sincerity of his own apology almost surprised him. He'd never apologized to Dazai and meant it. In the Mafia, he'd only say that he was sorry to try to escape a beating or as some conditioned response that'd been pounded into him in the orphanage. This time he meant it. He'd screwed up. He'd screwed up so badly, and he had no doubt that Dazai was going to pay a portion of the price.

"I'm so sorry," he repeated weakly when the silence weighed on him as heavily as his guilt.

If he wasn't a burden to Dazai before, he definitely was now.

Dazai's eyes were on him when he looked up again. For a tense moment, nothing moved. Atsushi held his breath, not knowing what Dazai would say in response, not knowing how much those words might sting.

He didn't say anything.

Dazai gave a slight nod with an expression that wasn't impossible to read, but it was hard to decipher.

Then, he was gone.

/-/-/

It'd been a long time since Dazai needed to dispose of a body. He'd used to have a clean-up crew to take care of the bodies. That didn't mean he'd forgotten the several ways one could use to get rid of a corpse, but doing it alone would take longer than he'd like.

The pavement was dyed red, the corpse under the tarp still hadn't undergone rigor mortis.

He squinted at Atsushi's victim in the fading light. Claw marks had torn through the throat, leaving trails of ragged flesh.

It was such a strange thing… Knowing that Atsushi had done this. Such brutal work done by a child…

Dazai sighed, pulling on a pair of disposable gloves.

Time to clean up.

If the kill had been less obvious, he could have just broken the dead man's jaw and fired three bullets into his chest. The forgery of the Port Mafia's method of killing would have still been discovered later during the autopsy, but it would have bought them some time at the very least.

The way this man died though… it would take some extra effort to erase most of the evidence.

Dazai rummaged through the bag of items he'd raided from the last hotel he and Atsushi had stayed in. He had needed to steal from the supply closets and kitchen as well, which was how he'd managed to come by a cleaver, a lighter, a hammer, a pair of latex gloves, and several garbage bags.

Corpses weren't foreign to him by any means, but even in the Mafia, Dazai had never had to dispose of a body in such a gorey fashion. He wasn't squeamish, but he definitely wasn't looking forward to any of it.

He started with the fingers, holding them over the lighter's flame. The flesh burned, the fingerprints melting to nothing. The stench of burning skin and muscle nearly made him gag, but he kept going until all of the fingers were left charred and half destroyed.

He did the same thing to the face, burning the skin beyond recognition. Then, he slid a garbage bag around the head before using the hammer to break in the teeth.

Such reddish work...Dazai thought as he pounded the hammer against the skull for good measure.

Mutilating and dismembering a corpse was the sort of work he hoped he'd be able to completely avoid since leaving the Mafia.

Yet again, this attempt at becoming a good man wasn't going very well.

If anyone here has read The Crucible by Arthur Miller, I borrowed the phrase "reddish work" from there. It just seemed to fit so well with the mood for this chapter.

Sorry again that it took so long for this chapter to come out. I've been pretty preoccupied with school and other such things... I've also been crocheting a lot! I'm currently working on a Port Mafia Dazai plushie, as well as a redo for my Kyouka plushie. I've been making plushies from outside of BSD lately (Ahsoka from Star Wars: the Clone Wars and San from Princess Mononoke). But I am totally open to requests if anyone wants me to make another character from BSD.

Feel free to check out my Tumblr: akinachambers or my Etsy shop: CrochetedByAnnika

Thank you so much for all your support for this story! I could not have gotten this far without all of you!

I hope you're all healthy and safe!

Until next time!