Dazai slammed the door shut behind him, locking it and waited to see if anyone tried to get in. He listened for sounds of footsteps or talking but couldn't hear anything over the pounding of his head and the ringing in his ears. Each breath came out in panicked gasps and Dazai backed up until the back of his legs hit the bathtub. Taking one quick look at it, Dazai climbed into the tub and curled into as small a ball as he possibly could. He clutched his yukata tightly shut, pressing it against his chest with so much force he was sure it would bruise later.
Did they see? Did they know? No. No, they couldn't have. He still had his bandages on and they weren't that loose... were they?
Dazai glanced down at himself, checking for any loose wrappings when he noticed he was shaking. His eyes widening in incomprehension, he held his hands out in front of him, watching as they trembled inexplicably. He tried to will the trembling to subside, like he normally did to prevent anyone from knowing he was injured or unwell but it didn't work. The shaking persisted and he didn't know why. It just wouldn't stop.
He wasn't cold or in pain or sick and he couldn't be shaking from hunger either. Atsushi and Kyouka had made sure he had at least one meal a day so he couldn't be starving enough to be shaking. So what was it?
No matter how much he tried he just couldn't stop trembling.
Dazai didn't know what was wrong with him. Didn't know why he was like this or what this... this heavy pit in his chest meant. This hadn't happened since he was a small child all those years ago. Back then, he shook all the time and the heaviness in his chest had been there before the emptiness took over completely. Why was he like this now? What did it mean?
Suddenly, Dazai felt a presence at his back and phantom fingers skimming along his upper arms. A gesture meant to comfort but only reminding him of pain. Father's haunting voice filtered into his ear, a whispered breath that never seemed to leave.
"Oh dear, this isn't good at all, my Osamu," Father taunted in his ear, but it couldn't be possible. Father was dead. He had watched Mori murder him, slit his throat, bleed him out, watched him choke on his own blood, he couldn't- "Trembling is a sign of weakness, of fear, and you know what happens to those who have weaknesses, don't you?"
Dazai did know. Weakness brought pain. Brought hurt and darkness and hunger and heaviness and drowning and dogs and fire and—There were too many things it brought and Dazai wanted to experience none of them ever again. And he hadn't. He'd been good for so long. He couldn't go back to that-
"That's right," came the whispered voice again, "we don't want that, now do we, Osamu? You were doing so good until now. You don't want to be a bad boy, do you?"
He didn't. He really didn't. He tried so hard to be good, so hard at times it was suffocating. He couldn't fail now. They'd leave him. Everyone would leave him and he'd be all alone and-
"You're already all alone, my sweet boy," Father was in front of him now. His phantom hands running through his hair and his expression twisted into faux concern, false yet somehow still so convincing to Dazai, even after years and years of him being dead. "Have you ever wondered why your ability is called No Longer Human, my son? Have you ever wondered what it meant?"
He leaned in close, pressing his ghostly lips against Dazai's ear, "You aren't human. You never were. You are a monster, Osamu. Inhuman, unfeeling, wrong. You've always been so wrong. Completely numb to everything around you. How could anyone besides me ever care about you? They can't, and why would they want to? My little monster."
The trembling worsened considerably and he found he couldn't breathe. He already knew all of that, but hearing it again after so long destroyed what little hope he had for himself. He couldn't do this anymore.
Dazai shakily uncurled himself from his comforting ball and looked around the bathroom. Immediately he noticed that someone had removed all his razors and pills, probably Kunikida or Chuuya. He crawled out of the tub and made his way over to the sink. Grabbing the wooden panel under the cabinet, he pulled it off and reached under the sink for one of the many knives and razor blades he had hidden there just in case.
Once he found one, he brought it out and simply stared at the small knife for a minute. This was the only way. The only way he could keep everyone safe from himself. He was nothing more than a monster. They didn't know just how much of one yet. It would be best if he got rid of the monster before they found out and realized he wasn't worth the effort. Before they left him.
Dazai placed the knife unsteadily against his wrist, preparing to slice deeply into his corrupt, vile, monstrous veins—
"Dazai," Chuuya's voice sounded muffled through the door, surprising Dazai enough that he removed the blade from his arm and turned towards the door, "it's time to come out. Your food is getting cold and the kids are worried. I'm leaving some clothes for you outside the door. If you don't come out in 5 minutes, I'll break the door down and come in after you, ya hear me?"
He could hear Chuuya standing outside the door, likely waiting for a response, so he put the knife back in its hiding place before answering just loud enough to carry through the door, "Yeah… I hear you."
"Okay. I'm trusting you, Dazai." And then he walked away.
Trust. Dazai couldn't fathom how Chuuya could possibly trust him after everything. It didn't make any sense. Chuuya, above everyone else, knew what he was and hearing that he still trusted him… It was unthinkable, causing a suffocating tightness to form in his chest. He was going to ruin it somehow. He was going to take Chuuya's trust and trample all over it, he just knew it. That was what always happened and Dazai doesn't know how not too.
Taking a deep, steadying breath, Dazai silently put the panel back on the sink and went to get his clothes. It wouldn't be fair to leave Chuuya the mess to clean up when he killed himself. He'd wait until he was once again alone.
Chuuya waited just long enough for the kids to finish their meal and exchange worried glances between them before getting up and heading towards Dazai's room. As calmly as possible, he got dressed, tidied his hair into something presentable, and gathered together clothes and the bandages he knew made Dazai feel safe, carrying them out of the room with him.
Walking steadily to the bathroom door, Chuuya ignored Atsushi and Kyouka hovering as he tried the door handle. Unsurprisingly, Dazai had locked it beforehand and it refused to budge. Placing the clothes on the wooden floor, Chuuya knocked only to receive no response.
"Dazai, it's time to come out," he strained his ears but heard no sound coming from the other side of the door. He continued anyway with, "Your food is getting cold and the kids are starting to worry."
He still didn't get a response and the continued silence grew deafening. He forced himself to stay calm. In all likeliness, Dazai was probably listening and just couldn't bring himself to answer yet. Freaking out now wouldn't accomplish anything.
"I'm leaving some clothes for you outside the door. If you don't come out in 5 minutes, I'll break the door down and come in after you, ya hear me?"
Chuuya waited for an answer this time. If he didn't get one… If he didn't get one, he would break down the door to make sure Dazai hadn't done anything stupid yet. Maybe he'd be in time to save him.
Before Chuuya's thoughts could descend further into darker depths, he heard muted rummaging in the bathroom before Dazai's soft voice spoke up through the wood, "Yeah… I hear you."
Chuuya let out a silent sigh of relief and unclenched his tense hands, "Okay. I'm trusting you, Dazai."
He moved away from the door and walked past the Agency brats to sit on the bar stool at the counter. Hesitantly, Atsushi and Kyouka rejoined him, taking their own seats once again. Atsushi fidgeted for a moment, looking as though he wanted to say something before looking straight at Chuuya with imploring eyes.
"Dazai, he…" he paused, biting his lips anxiously, "You said earlier that he's blind in his right eye, didn't you? How… how did it happen?"
Chuuya sighed heavily, placing his elbow on the counter and leaned his head in his hand wearily. He wasn't surprised by the question, only… he wasn't quite sure how to answer.
"Truth is," he started slowly, pulling his thoughts together and keeping his eye on the clock, "I don't know what happened. It was already like that before I even met Dazai. The only reason I even know is because…"
His mind flashed back to that first time he had seen Dazai without the bandages over his face. They were sent on a high risk, enemy-heavy mission with no back up and some scumbag got a lucky shot in, slicing into the skin under Dazai's eye without him so much as dodging. Chuuya had chalked it up to carelessness on Dazai's part—he probably needed to get used to seeing with his right eye again. It wasn't atypical for Dazai to get injured on that blind spot.
But then it happened again. And again. And again. Some of the hits he took should have been easily avoided now that the bandages were off and yet they seemed to hit him more often, not less. It got to the point where the right side of his face was completely covered in blood from various wounds, not to mention the state of the rest of his body and, angry and distraught, Chuuya forced him to sit behind the cover of a wall before he got himself killed before going back into the fray.
Chuuya took out their last opponent in a hurry before coming back to the brick wall he hid Dazai behind. Dazai did not look good at all. His head hung limply, resting on his chest and even from two feet away Chuuya could hear his ragged breathing. A pool of blood slowly formed around Dazai, seeping into his clothes and staining his white button-up shirt a bright red.
Cursing, Chuuya hastily knelt down next to Dazai's less injured side, noticing as he dropped that Dazai appeared to be unconscious for the moment.
"What the hell, Dazai!? What's going on with you today? You aren't usually this much of a bullet magnet. What gives!?
He hesitated for a moment before cautiously pushing his hand against one of the worst injuries on his side. Dazai groaned slightly from the pain, but remained unresponsive otherwise.
"Damn it, Dazai. Now I'm gonna have to carry you," Chuuya muttered to himself as he removed his hand from the wound and began to arrange Dazai's arm over his shoulder. He didn't have anything that would stop the bleeding with him so he had to get him back to the Port Mafia as soon as possible.
Chuuya wrapped his arm around Dazai and once he was situated comfortably, Chuuya carefully stood up in order to keep the jostling to a minimum. With his free hand, Chuuya pulled out his phone.
"Hey, pull up the car," he hung up before he received an answer and turned his attention back to Dazai.
His wounds were still leaking sluggishly and his face had lost the slight color it had in the first place. They had to get back, fast. The car soon pulled up by a nearby curb and as Chuuya dragged Dazai and his awkward height, he noted with growing concern that Dazai was barely more than skin and bones.
He shoved Dazai into the car more harshly than he intended and by the time Chuuya himself got into the car, Dazai groaned in unhappy wakefulness. Chuuya watched as he put his hand against his no doubt aching head and he felt his concern fading into rising fury.
"What the hell was that, Dazai! Were you trying to get yourself killed out there?!" He yelled at him with all the anger and he fear he felt that day, "If that was another suicide attempt, I swear I gonna kill you myself." Chuuya hissed through his teeth as he watched Dazai move his hand to absently wipe at the blood flowing into his eye from above his right his brow.
"What?" Dazai asked, sounding genuinely confused as he turned to look at Chuuya. As he removed his hand from his face, he seemed to remember the situation they had just been in, "Oh!" A smile grew on Dazai's face before he started chuckling softly, "I assure you, Chuuya, I was not trying to kill myself. That would have been a horrible death! Not beautiful at all."
Chuuya's eyebrow twitched in annoyance and he gritted his teeth, "Then what was it, Dazai? Because I'm not finding it very funny."
"I just forgot, is all," Dazai said airly, waving his hand in a dismissive gesture.
At this point, the twitch was becoming permanent and if Dazai didn't stop beating around the bush soon, Chuuya's fist would become a part of Dazai's face, "Forgot what!? Don't avoid the question, Dazai!"
"That I'm blind in my right eye."
"...What?" Chuuya asked, deadpan. He must not have heard that right.
"I am bli-nd in that eye~," Dazai repeated frustratingly slow, as though he were talking to a particularly stupid child, "Usually I have bandages covering it, so it's easy to remember to be careful, but without them… well, I just… forgot."
"You forgot that you can't see out of your eye? How do you forget something like that, Dazai!?"
Rather than answering, Dazai just laughed again before promptly passing out from blood loss. As soon as they arrived at the base, Chuuya rushed Dazai to Mori to get treated. Later that day while Chuuya watched Dazai's unconscious body wrapped in twice the bandages than usual, Chuuya
decided that if Dazai wasn't going to be careful without them, he'd make sure Dazai always had the bandages on.
"Let's just say, it wasn't pretty. You'd be surprised how much blood someone can lose before dying, it was a close call."
Before Atsushi or Kyouka could do more than gape in shock, the bathroom door opened and Dazai shuffled into the kitchen. As he walked closer to the counter, Chuuya stared pointedly at him.
"Sit. Eat," he commanded immediately, pointing to the spot he previously occupied and watched as Dazai blinked confusedly at him before cautiously complying.
He eyed Chuuya as though he expected him to start yelling at him at any minute. And to be honest, if this were any other time, in any other situation, if he didn't know what he did now Chuuya probably would have. That's what he did when he was worried; when he didn't know what else to do. And how could he not worry when he knew that what he tried to tell Dazai last night—that he didn't deserve what happened to him, that he wasn't a monster—hadn't sunk in and probably wouldn't for a very long time. But Dazai didn't need that now, probably couldn't take being yelled at without turning it around on himself in the worst possible way.
"You're not angry," Dazai said it like a statement, face blank, though Chuuya knew it was a question, felt the confusion and apprehension behind it. He probably didn't understand why Chuuya wasn't railing him after he cut their conversation short the night before and locked himself in the bathroom this morning. He would have before.
Chuuya raised an elegant eyebrow as he placed a glass of water in front of the brunette, "Is there a reason I should be angry?"
Dazai's expression gave way to visible perplexity and his brows furrowed slightly like he was trying to decide if Chuuya had somehow hit his head or got possessed since the last time he saw him, "Um, yes? Probably?"
From his response, Chuuya got the impression Dazai was trying to give him the answer he thought Chuuya wanted to hear, but had no idea what that answer might be. Chuuya wasn't sure if he should find that funny, cute, or just plain sad.
"I'm not angry," he said simply, expression calm and nonthreatening. Not angry at you, anyway.
Dazai stared at him blankly, completely thrown by Chuuya's unexpected behavior. After a moment, he reached for the water Chuuya gave him with caution, taking a small sip before turning back to his food, baffled and floundering because of it.
Atsushi and Kyouka still hadn't spoken, studiously watching their interactions as though that would give them all the answers in the world. He must have just noticed their attention on him because Chuuya saw Dazai shrink minutely at their intense stares, pulling more into himself as he tried to put an unaffected mask on. In an effort to detract some of the attention off of Dazai, Chuuya cleared his throat.
"Dazai, you're going out with Atsushi and Kyouka today."
"I am?"
""He is?""
They all turned sharply to look at Chuuya at the same time, speaking all at once with equal amounts of confusion and surprise at the statement, though the kids' contained excitement as well. Chuuya simply nodded in response, "Yep, I have stuff I need to take care of and I don't want to leave Dazai alone. Bring him back by six. If he's not here by then, I'm going to come looking and I will not be happy, got it?"
"But-but we have work!" Atsushi objected.
"Not today, you don't. Now get going. Go shopping or something. Get crab, use some of that money Dazai's been sitting on. Restock his fridge, I don't care," Chuuya shooed them away, getting a pout from Dazai for his troubles.
"I am not a child," he whined and Chuuya hoped it was a good sign that he could even pretend to be okay, "I don't need to be looked after and I can buy my own food."
"Right, right, that's why your fridge is completely empty right now, isn't it? Now go on," Chuuya didn't call him out on his obvious charade, simply playing along. Dazai deserved a break.
Pouting again, Dazai stood from the stool and gestured flippantly at the kids, "Come, come. Let's go, Atsushi. Kyouka. Chuuya's kicking me out of my own house. How cruel!"
He dramatically exited his apartment in a flurry of motion, leaving a stunned Atsushi and Kyouka behind. His sudden change of mood seemed to be something they didn't see often and had a hard time adjusting to. Kyouka was the first to snap out of it and she got up quickly.
"Wait, Dazai! Don't leave without us," she looked back at Atsushi as she too left the room, "Come on, Atsushi. He's leaving us behind."
Atsushi blinked before turning his attention back to Chuuya, a question on his lips. Chuuya nodded his head towards the door Dazai and Kyouka disappeared behind, "Keep an eye on him. He's not doing so hot. Could try something if you don't watch out for him."
Atsushi's lips thinned in grim understanding and he nodded solemnly, "I'll make sure that doesn't happen."
He got up and walked to the door before stopping at the threshold. He looked back at Chuuya, "I wanted to thank you… for being here for Dazai. I'm glad he had you to look out for him when we didn't know we had to."
And with that, he too, vanished past the door, leaving Chuuya alone in Dazai's barren apartment. He sighed heavily, leaning all of his weight on the counter. Now that he knew Dazai would be safe in Atsushi and Kyouka's care, Chuuya had time to head back to his own apartment. He'd shower, change, and then he'd bring the box of horrors to the Agency.
It was time to deal with it while Dazai was otherwise occupied. He saw no need to make Dazai live through everything again.
The long walk home gave Chuuya time to clear his head. Taking a deep breath of fresh air, the mafioso let it out slowly in an attempt to calm his frazzled nerves. When that had no effect, he reached into his pocket for his pack of cigarettes. Tapping the bottom of the carton, he pulled out a fresh cigar, placing it between his lips as he put the pack back. Bringing his lighter out, he cupped the flame as he lit the end of his cigarette. Once it was lit, Chuuya felt some of the tension in his bones fade away. He gave himself this moment to relax, if even for only a minute, before his thoughts drifted inevitably back to Dazai.
How could he have ignored that Dazai was this bad? He had been with Dazai for three years and he hadn't done anything to help. He knew Dazai had no self-preservation, he knew he constantly searched for ways to die and he never thought to find out why?! How could he have turned a blind eye when Dazai was literally self-destructing right in front of him?!
He saw all the signs, every step Dazai took into further decline. He knew there was so much more to it than a really dangerous personality quirk or a childish cry for attention. But he never asked, never dug deeper, never tried to really understand. Not because he didn't care, but because he didn't want to know. Because he was afraid of the answers. Chuuya knew it had to have been horrible for Dazai to act the way he did, but Chuuya wanted to pretend everything was fine because otherwise Dazai's suffering would be all too real. He wanted to pretend that Dazai wasn't slowly dying with each passing day or suffocating in mafia black surroundings. He hoped that by pretending everything was okay and that Dazai was fine, it would eventually be true.
Now he knew, and nothing was okay. Dazai wasn't fine and Chuuya had to try with everything he had not to scream and cry or just destroy everything around him. No matter how temporarily satisfying, that wouldn't fix anything. That wouldn't help Dazai or make anything better for him. He had to be there for him. He had to be there and try to undo the damage Dazai's father did to him, physically, mentally, and emotionally. Chuuya had to reign in his raging emotions and be the support Dazai needed, no matter how hard or crushing or devastating things got.
Chuuya could do that. He may be short-tempered but he could keep his calm. It wasn't a side of him Dazai had ever seen since he had a real knack for pissing Chuuya off, but to his subordinates he was as level-headed as they came. He could be that for Dazai, for as long as he needed it.
As he continued to walk, Chuuya realized that although he shed plenty of tears himself, he hadn't seen Dazai cry this whole time. Thinking back, he can't remember a single time Dazai cried about anything. Not when it hadn't simply been for dramatic effect or as a ploy of some kind. He wondered if Dazai even knew how to cry or if that was something else he had taken away from him.
Chuuya hardly noticed as he entered the door to his penthouse apartment and crossed the threshold on his way to his expansive bathroom. He paused at his granite counter to put his cigarette out in the ashtray. His eyes drifted to his wine cabinet, briefly considering pouring himself a generous glass before deciding against it. Chuuya had business to take care of at the Agency later and it wouldn't do to be drunk when he got there, no matter how much he dreaded being sober when he showed the tapes again. Besides that, Dazai would be able to smell the alcohol on his breath and he can't be drunk around Dazai, not now when he was so fragile.
Instead, he walked over to his stereo, turned the volume as high as he could and blasted rock music through external speakers placed all throughout his apartment. The music exploded so loudly, it drowned out his thoughts leaving only the thrumming pound of the bass behind. Chuuya passed the kitchen counter, sedately making his way to his bedroom.
Entering the room, he shut the door and leaned against it, completely drained. He stayed there for only a breath before pushing himself away from the door and further into the room. Chuuya tossed his hat in the general direction of his bed, carelessly shrugging off his jacket, vest, and shirt as he stepped into his adjoined bathroom, leaving a trail of clothing uncharacteristically strewn across the floor.
It took a matter of seconds to reach the shower and start the spray of water, engulfing himself in its heat. The shower Chuuya took scalded his skin, but he didn't care. The pain of it helped distract him from his whirling emotions and the music muffled everything else. It was a welcome reprieve and seemed to be the only way he could really find comfort and calm down since this entire thing started. Any remaining strain in his muscles melted away under the assault of water and music, his frayed nerves smoothing out until Chuuya could begin to think without devolving into self-recrimination or murderous dialogue.
Everything became white noise as he methodically went through the process of showering. After scrubbing his skin raw, Chuuya turned off the water, pulling a red towel off the wall hook and wrapped it around his waist. Stepping out of the shower, he grabbed another towel and absentmindedly dried his hair with it as he ambled into his walk-in closet.
Ignoring his typical three-piece suits as he passed, Chuuya opted for something more casual and grabbed a red t-shirt, a leather jacket, fitted jeans, and designer tennis shoes. Quickly pulling those on, the mafioso debated with himself before finding an overnight bag and stuffing more clothes into it. Throwing the bag over his shoulder, Chuuya exited his closet and, disregarding the mess he usually wouldn't be caught dead leaving around, his room. He was too tired and too stressed to even bother with cleaning right now.
Depositing his bag on the leather couch, Chuuya pointedly ignored the box that was the cause of all of this and made his way to the coffee machine. After downing three cups of piping hot black coffee, Chuuya decided it was time to allow himself to think again. He turned off the pounding music and was left in startling silence.
Grimacing at the sudden change, Chuuya turned back towards his couch and the cardboard box it held on top. Dread bloomed deep in his gut as he glared heatedly at the container, half hoping it would light on fire so he didn't have to deal with it anymore. Just looking at it, picturing what he knew was inside, made him sick to his stomach. Cursing softly, Chuuya forced himself to quit dragging his feet and get a move on. This had to be done and the sooner he got it over with the better.
Trudging reluctantly to his couch, Chuuya tossed his bag back onto his shoulder before cautiously gripping the handholds of the box as though it were just waiting for a chance to bite his fingers off. Shoving the box under his arm, the mafioso marched to the door to his penthouse.
As soon as he opened his door, Chuuya saw Akutagawa on the other side, leaning against the wall with a troubled look on his pale face. He briefly spared a thought as to how long the younger man had been standing there.
"Akutagawa, what are you doing here?" Chuuya questioned dully, too tired to put any more emotion into his tone.
"You've been with Dazai since we watched the video. Haven't you?" Akutagawa asked in a way that wasn't really a question. Getting a blank stare in response, he continued, "I want to go with you."
Blinking in surprise a couple of times, Chuuya slowly repeated, "You... want to go with me?"
At Akutagawa's resolute nod, Chuuya deadpanned, "You do realize that Dazai is with the Agency, right? And where the Agency is, so is the tiger boy."
Akutagawa's eyebrow twitched at the mention of Atsushi, but his face remained determined.
"I know, but if there is any way I can help Dazai, any way at all, I want to do it. And the only way I can think to be of any use to him is if I am around him. Please let me do this, Chuuya."
Chuuya let out a long sigh, sweeping his hand through his hair as he considered Akutagawa's request. He wasn't sure this was a good idea. Akutagawa was volatile at the best of times and seeing Dazai in such a vulnerable mindset could make it worse. Not to mention how his blatant dislike and jealousy of Atsushi would come into play when he sees how the boy has practically been attached at Dazai's hip since the start of it all.
But, Akutagawa does care about Dazai, perhaps more than was necessarily healthy but it was there. And he had already seen one of the videos. It wouldn't be fair to keep him in the dark about this when thoughts about what had been done to Dazai have been plaguing him for days now.
Letting out one last sigh, Chuuya opened his eyes and stared Akutagawa down with blazing sapphire, "Fine, you can come. But you have to be on your best behavior and do not pick a fight with Atsushi. Do you understand?"
"I understand. I'll… try not to antagonize the weretiger."
"Good because Dazai can't play mediator right now."
That gave Akutagawa pause and he gave Chuuya a considering look, "Is Dazai really doing that bad?"
Giving off a bitter laugh, Chuuya stepped through the threshold of his penthouse, closing the door behind him. "Yeah, Akutagawa, he's that bad. Just… don't say anything to him about it, okay? He is barely holding on a thread as it is." With that, Chuuya walked off down the hall with Akutagawa quickly following behind.
A/N: Apparently, in my story Chuuya really likes to take showers. *shrugs* I hope you like this chapter everyone!
Special thanks to ChillyCowHead for their idea about sensory hallucinations. It really inspired me for this chapter. Feel free to comment with ideas or theories! I do read all your comments and appreciate them a lot, even if I haven't responded to them!