Chuuya brought his arm up to hit the guy.
No matter who that bastard was— and Chuuya has a pretty good idea— he was still in an innocent victim's body, and Chuuya doesn't want to hurt that body….. at least, not more than he had already.
But he was neck-deep in disgust, and anger.
Still, the blow was far too powerful. The boy's body flew at least ten feet to his left, landing in a small cloud of dust.
Chuuya himself coughed up even more blood. It's getting scary. How much blood does he even have in his body? Because he'd excreted so much in the last few minutes that there are red puddles everywhere.
Chuuya focused within himself once more, imagining himself shoving the ugly beast inside him back into the recesses of his mind. The red marks on his body receded slowly. Disappearing back into his sleeves, down his cheeks and onto his neck.
As the last of the marks were slithering back past the edge of his collar, Chuuya flew into the nearby building, and felt debris burying him.
His control slipped for a moment, but he clamped down on Corruption again, hard. This time, though, he didn't shove it away.
Someone was attacking him, and he needs to get away.
He channeled the overwhelming power through him palm, and was actually surprised when he could feel gravitons gathering there.
He expected not to be able to stand, the pain was excruciating, but he all but sprang up as he used a black hole to blast the debris burying him into nothingness.
He heard a ripping sound, though, and more pain shot up from his legs almost making him black out for a second. Then he caught himself and dashed away from the building, back into the street, right as a black hole absorbed the entire area where he had been, so the ruined building earlier now becomes just a foundation.
Chuuya grasped and found the source of the destruction. The red-haired boy stood there, eyes wide and crazed, tattoos blazing, laughing, laughing, laughing even as blood spurted around him and black holes form in his hands.
Was that what he always looked like?
He wondered what Dazai thought when he saw him like that. He would not be able to bear it if the situation was reversed, or would he?
Chuuya, one hand on a street pole to help keep himself up, looked down to survey the source of his raging pain.
Then froze in absolute horror.
A gaping gash ran along his leg muscles, splitting his leg lengthwise into two, down so he could see the bone. He would never recover from that, he knew. Human bodies might be able to perform small miracles in healing itself, given time and proper treatment, but if he could recover from this wound, the entire human race would have been immortals.
But….. there is also no way he should have been standing on those legs in the first place. Yet despite needing a little support, he is.
He felt dizzy, and would have thrown up had his stomach not feel like it had been dissolved by acid. Maybe it had dissolved, albeit by something else.
He's going to die.
A black mass hurtles towards him, and his mind stilled to frightening degree.
He's going to die anyway.
He closed his eyes.
But I'm not going to die by this revolting ability. I'm not going to die because of Corruption.
Chuuya opened his eyes with a determination, and this time it wasn't crazed, it wasn't glazed over. It wasn't the red of barely controlled Arahabaki. It was sapphire blue.
Dark tattoos still glow red on his face and arms.
Chuuya pushed off the lamp post, and with his messed up legs he somehow launched himself to the side, landing on his face a dozen feet away.
His legs were a jumble of pain, yet he had been able to jump so far. And that could only mean one thing, his body's natural limits are still off even when he consciously use the the power. He could use his body until he became a pulp of slime in this state.
Normally that might sound gruesome, but he's going to die anyway. At least, this means he could still fight. He could still choose his own death, to some degree.
That gave him a sudden feeling of liberation, and he quickly hurled a black hole in his opponent's direction then got to his feet.
He didn't try to bear the pain. He just ignored it.
Black holes are unstoppable, there would be no point in making them collide with each other. It's not a matter of whose black hole is stronger than whose. If they collide, the destruction could be even worse for them all.
So Chuuya ran on his wondrously powerful but deteriorating legs, dodging and hurling blackholes for distracting purposes as he tries to recall what exactly had the people at CERN said about black holes colliding with each other, but he can't seem to recall.
Was it something about rotating around each other by their mutual attraction... or maybe they just combined and get bigger?
He realized he wouldn't get anywhere with this, and cursed himself a little for not listening properly when it was being explained to him.
He needs a plan, and quickly.
What are his goals? He is going to die anyway, but how does he wish to do it?
Asking that question made him think of Dazai, and he had his answer. He started to make a pattern in his dodges, a pattern resembling a beeline in the direction of the Port Mafia's headquarters, on which Dazai is unmistakably making his own way towards him.
Chuuya wished he could last long enough for them to meet for the last time.
Then he fell, face first, on the hard uneven concrete ground.
He let out a muffled cry, propping himself up with one arm and looking back at his legs— they were... "a lump of meat" was the word that came to mind.
There wasn't even enough blood in him to seep out anymore. Why is he even alive right now?
Chuuya retched then, heaving out more blood and slimy lumps of somethings.
His innards, maybe.
That only last a few seconds, though, before he rolled around just as something slammed into the spot where his head was a second ago and the concrete he was lying on vanished beside him.
I'm sorry Dazai...
The boy's feet thumped somewhere beyond his feet. Somewhere close.
It seems I wouldn't last much longer.
Out of the edge of his fading vision, Chuuya thought he could see a blackhole forming above him.
Chuuya let out a bloody chuckle.
And the very first time I got you to really trust me.
The boy raised his tattooed arm, with the blackhole in hand.
I failed.
The boy slashed his hand downwards.
.
.
.
"You did great, Chuuya!" Yelled a voice, as a shadow passed over Chuuya's head.
The awaited deciding blow had never landed. Corruption is subsiding in him, and Chuuya was vaguely aware that without Corruption to keep his body functioning, he might as well die immediately.
So he cling on to Corruption for a little more, but his grasp both on the power and on his own consciousness is slipping rapidly.
Then he felt arms wrapping around him, and his world began to sway. He felt nauseated, but he forced his eyes open.
Everything was covered with a red haze, but Chuuya thought he could see Dazai.
Ah, he had made it, after all. To see Dazai for the last time.
And his world went black again.