The pounding of rain rang through his ears, cracks of thunder and lightning lit up the night and wind whistled through the trees.
Slowly, Chuuya began to regain consciousness.
He opened his eyes, giving them a few seconds to adjust, before finding himself in some sort of cave. Dazai sat a few feet away from him, staring into the beyond.
Distantly, he recognized that a few blankets from the cabin were pulled over him, in an attempt to protect him from the cold. Meanwhile, Dazai just sat there with his now soaked prison clothes wetly hugging his body.
For a moment, Chuuya considered offering Dazai to join him under the warmth of the blankets, in order to protect him from the cold as well. However, before he could say anything, he stopped himself, the feeling of what that could imply hanging heavy in his chest.
But would that really be such a bad thing?
Chuuya pushed the thought from his mind. Best not to think about it.
Dazai must've realized that they couldn't stay in that cabin any longer after everything that had happened. Rightfully so too, it was what Chuuya would've chosen to do too, had he not been overwhelmed by his decimated body. It was just annoying that they had nowhere better to go for the moment other than places found by mere luck, being in a country neither was incredibly well-versed in.
Pushing back the pain pulsating through his numerous injuries, Chuuya forced himself into a sitting position, gritting his teeth as his cauterized wound flared on his chest. Still, he was grateful to note that the pain wasn't as bad as it had been previously, most likely courtesy of Arahabaki. One of the only things he was good for, Chuuya supposed.
"You're awake," Dazai turned away from the chaotic night that lay beyond the pair, turning all of his attention upon Chuuya. Lightning flashed behind the one once called Demon Prodigy, lighting up the right side of his face in a flash of blinding light.
"Astute observation, dumbass, no wonder people think you're so smart," Chuuya grumbled back, grateful that they could both fall back into their usual routine of snarky jabs, despite all that had happened between them. It was something that made him eternally thankful for his relationship with Dazai, because no matter how bad things got they always bounced back and looked out for each other. Not that he would ever tell him that. He'd be dead before he ever told Dazai that.
"Aww, Chuuya thinks I'm smart? I didn't know you were so kind!"
Never mind, fuck Dazai.
Chuuya rolled his eyes, not giving Dazai the satisfaction of a response. A few beats of silence stretched between the two, before Dazai finally broke it, shrugging a backpack off of his shoulders and reaching into it to produce a snack bar and a plastic water bottle.
"You look emaciated and just kind of gross overall," Dazai muttered disapprovingly, shoving the snack bar and water in Chuuya's direction, who snatched the offering away from Dazai with a glare, "you're already so short, so we wouldn't want you to shrink any shorter."
"Fuck you, I'm still growing," Chuuya grumbled, taking a defiant bite out of the bar.
"Yeah, yeah," Dazai waved him off, "keep telling yourself that, if that's what helps you sleep at night."
"I'm going to kill you."
Dazai just laughed.
Chuuya liked it when he laughed.
It didn't take long for him to finish the snack bar and water, before realizing that he had yet to see Dazai eat or drink anything since they'd met up back at the prison, and despite his endless irritation at the other's mere existence that didn't mean he liked Dazai's self-destructive habits.
"You should really have something too," Chuuya pointed out, eyeing Dazai's thin frame,
Like Chuuya had assumed he would, Dazai immediately shook his head, "I already had some earlier, but aww, that's so sweet! You care about me? Who would've thought," Dazai reached a hand out, tousling up Chuuya's hair, who almost immediately tore it off of him, beginning to threateningly tighten his grip on the bastard's wrist in retaliation.
"Ow, ow, ow, ow, ow!" Dazai complained, wriggling his arm that was still stuck in Chuuya's grasp. "Chuuya's so mean!"
After a few more moments of self-indulgent revenge, Chuuya let go of the offending arm, before grabbing the backpack that Dazai had left in between them.
After a few moments of searching, he was finally able to produce an identical snack bar and bottle of water like what Dazai had given him, before tossing them in the idiot's direction, who caught them on impulse.
"I told you I already had some earlier," Dazai complained.
"You really think you can lie to me, Dazai?" Chuuya challenged. He knew Dazai and he knew that it was incredibly unlucky that he'd eaten or drunk anything substantial for a while now.
When they'd been partners in the Port Mafia, Dazai had often neglected his basic needs when put under pressure and stress, which given the lives they'd lived back then and even still today was practically every waking moment.
Often, back then, Chuuya would bring him crab-related dishes that he'd made extra of because he'd been trying out a new recipe and had "accidentally" doubled the batch or he'd bring him extra cases of water bottles that he'd "accidentally" bought.
He'd always told himself that he did it because he couldn't have Dazai using dehydration or starvation as an excuse to get out of pulling his weight on their joint missions or to get out of paperwork, which was something Dazai would probably end up doing regardless, regretfully. The real truth was something Chuuya only occasionally thought about in moments of weakness. Something he often did his best to repress.
Dazai luckily didn't give much more push-back and did, in fact, eat the entire bar and manage to finish off the water bottle.
"We should put the bottles outside to collect the rainwater," Chuuya suggested, almost as an afterthought. "We don't know how long it'll be until we figure out a way out of this damn mess and I'd really rather not die of dehydration. That'd be pretty lame."
"Yeah, it's pretty painful too," Dazai agreed, "definitely not the way, I'd want to go." He grabbed both of their bottles, screwing the caps back off and dropping them in the backpack before setting them outside. "When I go…" Dazai trailed off, seeming to mentally go to a place that was far beyond the reaches of anyone else.
It was a thing he did that always made something in Chuuya's stomach clench, while electrifying sparks seemed to shoot up from his abdomen to his shoulders. If he didn't know any better, he might think he was worried, but this was Dazai he was talking about. They hated each other… or at least that was what Chuuya had always tried to convince himself to think. For if he accepted how he might really feel about Dazai, the reason why he always forgave him with every turn, then he would have to be completely vulnerable.
Chuuya hated being vulnerable.
Giving someone that kind of control over his life was something that terrified him because every time he'd ever showed any sense of vulnerability to someone else it seldom ended well. It was safer to hide behind banter, taunts, and jabs, because if that real level of vulnerability were ever to be exposed and then rejected, then all that banter, all those jokes, and all those jabs that Chuuya claimed to hate so much might be gone forever. No matter what he said about his relationship with Dazai. No matter how much toxicity they had to combat in whatever their relationship was. No matter how irritating Dazai got, there was one truth that Chuuya knew deep within himself.
He couldn't bear losing Dazai.
"Anyways!" Dazai went on, having returned from his traitorous thoughts and breaking Chuuya out of his. "This rain will definitely put a hindrance on any patrols that are out there looking for us. But alas! They'll probably still be out there regardless, since we did kind of break out of a max security prison, after all. I can take first watch since Chuuya must be feeling so tired and lazy under all of those blankets."
At that, Chuuya rolled his eyes at the bastard, "Dazai, all I've been doing is sleeping for the past few days, it's your turn now, dumbass. I can take first watch, but you need to sleep unless you want the circles under your eyes to sink in any deeper. It makes you look like a zombie. It's actually really fucking creepy and all that shit."
"But Chuuya's so weak from all his injuries!" Dazai protested, "if anyone's a zombie, it's you."
"Dazai," Chuuya dragged a hand down his face, "you need to sleep."
Dazai opened his mouth again, but before he could say anything Chuuya untangled himself from the blankets, striding over to the bastard, with a finger pointed in the direction of where he'd previously resided. In the back of his mind, he found himself grateful that he was finally able to walk again with minimal pain, one of the positives of having the power of a god residing within him.
"Just go to sleep."
"So bossy," Dazai smirked, making Chuuya's stomach do a weird flipping thing that he definitely didn't want to look any further into, "but fine, only if Chuuya says please and wakes me up in a few hours for second watch."
"Please, dear God, I need a break from listening to your goddamn voice."
At that, Dazai finally acquiesced, making his way under the softness of the blankets and laying down. Finally closing his eyes much to Chuuya's relief.
It took a while before Dazai actually fell asleep, which Chuuya was able to tell by his breathing patterns, having known him for as long as he did.
Back when they were kids in the mafia, Dazai would occasionally have nightmares, something Chuuya doubted many people knew about with the exception of himself, maybe Odasaku, and regretfully Mori, having been the cause for many of them.
Back then, whenever they'd roomed together, Chuuya would occasionally wake up to the sound of heavy breathing, which he'd eventually been able to correlate with nightmares. With time, Dazai had gotten better and better at hiding it, but Chuuya was a light sleeper himself, so he'd still generally wake up whenever Dazai had them.
Usually, the heavy breathing would eventually fade to something reminiscent of the peaceful, soft breathing of comfortable sleep. Still, if one were to listen closely, a hitch of breath every now and then could be heard, as Dazai lost himself in probable thoughts of the past.
So, over time, Chuuya learned the difference between Dazai's breathing patterns.
Every time, Dazai was struck with one of those nightmares though, Chuuya always felt like he should do something. Perhaps comfort him or offer him some form of assurance or just do something at least. Yet, Chuuya would always end up just pretending to sleep, akin to Dazai, because, unlike Dazai, he didn't dream nor get nightmares, so he wasn't sure what to say, because he'd never been in that position himself. What if he crossed a line and Dazai abandoned him? Like The Sheep? Like The Flags? Like everyone else eventually seemed to.
So, he left Dazai alone with those horrific images flashing before his eyes because he didn't know what to do.
Now, he regretted it. He should've done something.
The day he'd discovered Dazai had left, he'd drunk a bottle of Pétrus. An exorbitantly expensive wine that he'd once bought for a special occasion. A wine he'd hoped to someday share with someone he cared about… like Dazai.
But instead, he drank it to forget.
Forget all the things he could've done differently. Forget all those who'd left him. Forget how he'd never be anyone's first choice. Forget it all.
Except, maybe now he and Dazai would have a second chance to make things right between them, now that it was just them against the world and they had to stick together.
So, Chuuya listened to Dazai's steady, restful breathing, as he stared out into the darkness. Grateful that at least for tonight while he stayed up, protecting the both of them, Dazai was free of any nightmares.
He never woke him for second watch.
If Dazai noticed in the morning he didn't say anything about it. Instead, they both just packed everything up in the backpack, along with the now rain-filled water bottles, before setting off into the wilderness that was now alit with morning dew, the rain and storm having retreated along with the darkness of the night.
