"...Sorry there weren't any! Well, then. Goodbye!"
Who said that?
The light came back to Chuuya's once undead eyes and suddenly he couldn't breathe. He didn't know where he was nor how he had got there. All he knew was the unforgiving cold depths of which surround him, leaving him with no concept of up or down.
His body spasmed and his lungs felt like they were about to burst from his chest. What was happening? Where was he? Why couldn't he remember? Was he… drowning? Who was that voice? What did they mean?
Why was he drowning? He couldn't remember, his thoughts were all jumbled, just flashes here and there and he felt almost like there was a void in his mind that was blocking some kind of vital information. He supposed the how and why didn't really matter though now, as he was faced with the much more pressing matter of his current circumstances.
The fact that he could not breathe. The fact that he did not know how to get out of this. The fact that the water begged to enter his lungs, promising to be just as sweet as air.
He didn't want to die.
Why can't he remember how he got there?
There was so much in his life that he'd never gotten to do and to think that all of that would be taken away from him by a death so stupid as drowning from circumstances that he couldn't even remember? It was ridiculous.
If he drowned here, he would never get to have tea with Kouyou again. He would never get to go out drinking again.
He would never get to own a dog.
It would've been so funny to torment Dazai with the dog. He'd always hated them.
He wished they'd been able to repair their relationship.
His fists clenched and unclenched, as he struggled under the water. He's supposed to be one of the strongest ability users in all of Japan. Yet, the cruel prison walls and suffocating circumstances of which surround him said otherwise.
He felt weak.
Actually, there was always been a part of him that's felt weak.
His entire life, he had always been a tool to be utilized by those around him. First with the lab and Arahabaki, then with the sheep, then with Dazai and the Port Mafia. He had never gotten to be himself.
Then again, who would he even be without someone else to light the path?
He couldn't say he knew, because he'd never gotten that far. Sure, he was an Executive, who had people at his constant command, but he'd never been at the forefront of decision-making. He'd never been the so-called smartest in the room; the one with all the answers. That person had always been Mori or Kouyou or Dazai. He'd never made a choice that had been entirely his own in his entire life and knowing that felt like shards of glass fracturing the fragile remains of his soul if he even had one.
Why couldn't he ever catch a break?
Why couldn't he ever be free?
It was almost ironic that he was drowning, when he'd felt like he was for his entire life. Fate never seemed to give him a break. It was always the next mission, the next betrayal, the next heartbreak.
He had been running for so long and now he feels his stamina slipping. Rest had never seemed so beautiful.
However even though Chuuya wanted to be able to finally rest, his heart had always craved life. Even when circumstances become their most dire and he felt like his world was falling apart, he still clung to it. So, he refused to give up.
Not yet.
Chuuya didn't want to die. He wanted to live. He wanted to drink expensive wines, while reading poems crafted by his favorites. He wanted to buy more hats that Dazai would probably call distasteful, as if shitty Dazai knew anything about fashion. He wanted to make fun of Dazai and his terrible life choices. He didn't want to let go.
His hands desperately clawed out at the water surrounding him, searching for some kind of stabilizer that didn't exist. His heart rate rose as sharp pains stabbed into his chest. He needed air. He needed it now. He needed to take a breath or he was going to die. Chuuya didn't want to die.
Arahabaki screamed in his mind.
GET OUT! GET OUT! GET OUT! GET AWAY! GET AWAY! GET OUT!
It was so loud. It was so cold. It was so painful. Why was everything so much?
Involuntarily Chuuya's body curled inwards on itself, like if he made himself even smaller it would save him. He grabbed his head, pulling at his hair, the pain shooting more adrenaline through his system, helping him hang on.
He just needed to hang on.
He didn't want to die.
But fate had other plans.
His lungs cried out for air that they'd never receive and he felt himself beginning to lose the battle to stop himself from taking in a breath where he knows he'll never get one. The moment he breathed in this water, it would be over. At that point, he'd really be drowning and this whole situation would be even more real than it already was.
Still, one can only fight against the inevitable for so long.
It was too much and had been too long. His mouth opened against his will and he took a deep breath in.
There was a split second, where his brain told him that he had been silly and by taking in a breath now, he would be okay. It was this brief moment of sweet, false hope that was over almost as soon as it entered his mind, because he was drowning in water that's drained away all the oxygen, so instead of the lightness of air, his lungs filled with the heaviness of water instead.
His hands clawed at his throat, as if he could rip the murderous water straight out of it and painful red lines dug into his skin in the wake of his desperation.
His eyes bulged from their sockets.
His heart was hammering in his chest and he wanted control more than he had ever wanted it. Things couldn't end like this. All that he had lived through just ended by water.
He didn't know where he was. He didn't know why he was drowning. He didn't know what to do.
Dazai would know what to do. Despite how much it pained him to say it, Dazai had always been able to come up with a plan even in the bleakest of moments, where all had seemed lost. It was one of the only things that idiot was good for.
Where was he now?
Despite their differences, Chuuya hoped that he was okay. While he might say that he hated him, in his heart Chuuya loved the idiot and hoped that the fate he met was much less gruesome than this.
The strength began to leave his limbs, as his body convulsed in the strangling tides. He could feel his once racing heart begin to slow. Arahabaki was still screaming, but it didn't matter anymore, not as the darkness began to close in and he could feel consciousness slipping through his fingers. The water ran in and out of his body, a poisoned oxygen that sought to be his doom.
As his consciousness faded away into oblivion, Chuuya thought back to when he'd first joined the Port Mafia. At first, he remembered actually hating having Dazai assigned to him as his partner, but over time the two grew close, no matter how much they bickered and fought.
He remembered their first mission together. He remembered meeting up again for the first time in four years. He remembered how Dazai would always pull him back from corruption. He remembered how Dazai would always save him, because despite everything, they would always be there for each other. After all, they trusted each other. So why wasn't Dazai here to save him this time? Why was he so alone? He didn't want to go. Not like this. Not alone in suffocating darkness.
But that wasn't his choice to make.
So, as his body fell limp in the cruel depths, Chuuya fell backwards into his mind and accepted that this time Osamu Dazai wouldn't be there to save him, nor could he save himself.
He just wished that he got to tell Dazai what a piece of shit he was for one last time, but he couldn't have everything he wanted. So instead, to ground himself, he would just have to hold onto his love for Dazai in his heart and reminisce back on their adventures as kids, as he finally let himself let go.
How strange people are before they fall into dreams of death.
From the depths of the tenebrous room, a blinding red light exploded to reveal an anomaly, sending the prison's alarms into a frenzy.