I'm still kinda arguing with myself over the kissing part in the last chapter. They weren't really supposed to have that kind of relationship. It just kinda happened. I don't usually write that kind of stuff. Or, at least, I have never done before.

It's not going to be a huge part of the story anyway, and I'm not going to write anything really graphic. I just could not help my self. I haven't finished writing the story, so I usually take comments in consideration when writing the next part- so everyone is a potential influence on the story.

And still- I regret nothing (I think).

"Get up."

Dazai squirmed under the blanket on his mattress. The chill of the stone flooring could be felt through the thin mattress, and the snow-filled streets made the rest of the building just as cold as the outside.

He still wasn't quite awake, but a kick to the side that flung him off his modest bedding changed that. He snapped awake as the pain in his chest made it hard for him to breathe.

"S-sorry, father," he stuttered, as he fumbled to his feet with more difficulty than it should. It was painful to stand up, but at this point, he could not remember it to be any other way.

The preacher sneered at the sight of the scrawny-looking boy. His body was black and blue, skinny and small. Scarred. He was not a worthy successor of him.

He had hoped that the constant physical and psychological strain he would put on his only son would help build some character. Unfortunately, he had clearly taken after his sinful harlet of a mother. Developing slowly, but it was already clear at ten, that he had not inherited his own physical superiority.

Such a waste of space. Such a waste of time. Such a waste of life.

However, what the boy had inherited from him, was his special ability. Well, one of them. Not the more useful one. Not the one he would use to taunt the boy. The one that made the boy useful, in spite of all his lack.

"It's time to go," the preacher said grimly, receiving a nervous nod as response.

Dazai's shaky legs were able to carry him across the room, where his dark suit lay, carelessly having been disposed of on a chair some days before.

The car, being driven by the preacher, stopped in front of the gate of a grand metal fence being guarded by two armed men.

Exchanging a couple of words with the guards, they opened the gate for the visitors, and let them pass.

The driveway led them to the large mansion, that still unknown to Dazai, he would become very familiar with some time in the near future. He now sat in the backseat, looking anxiously out the window with his one eye that was not covered by a bandage after the particularly harsh punishment a couple of days before.

A tall and slender man stood and waited for them in front of the door. He smiled as the car parked, and the large man in his clerical clothing and the small, bandaged, suit-wearing boy stepped out of the car.

"Welcome, father. I am Dr. Õgai Mori. Who may this young man be?" The older man's eyes wrinkled as he looked at Dazai with a big smile.

"This is my son, Osamu Dazai," the preacher said in his deep voice, giving Dazai a pat on the back. Dazai tried not to flinch from the touch but was only half successful. He knew he would pay for that later.

If the action was detected by the tall doctor, he didn't show it. With the grin still plastered on his face, he showed them inside.

"The boss is looking forward to seeing your special ability, father. A man with the power of making God show himself-" Mori sighed. "It just seems too good to be true."

The trio walked into a large room where several people already resided. An elderly looking man sat emotionless in a red velvet chair. He hardly acknowledged them. Beside him in an embroidered sofa, sat two others. A lady dressed in a white and red kimono, and a small redheaded boy by her side.

Dazai looked curiously at the boy. He hardly ever met anyone at his own age anymore. The redhead looked back but shyly looked down as their eyes met.

"Maybe the children would like to go outside-" Mori started to say, but was quickly interrupted by the preacher.

"No. I need my son here."

The grey-haired man looked skeptically at the preacher, and rested his head impatiently in his hand, propped up at the armrest.

"All right. Well, are we ready to begin?" Mori said with forced chipperness, looking from his boss to the preacher.

"Proceed," the gray-haired man said, waving his hand dismissively towards the men standing in front of him. He was sceptical to the whole ordeal, but if this man really had the power he claimed to possess, he would be an asset that they could not afford to miss out on.

The preacher's face contorted into a crooked smile, as he stared at the doubting elderly leader of the Port Mafia. With a hand motion, he gestured for Dazai to get in place. Dazai complied, walking a couple of feet and standing to face his father.

"Lord, please reveal yourself- I am asking as your humble servant. Help me save thy people. Honor us with your divine presence-" The preacher held out his arms as he spoke. "Shower me in your light. I am nothing but a pawn. Please, listen to a sinners chagrin."

The light in the room flickered. The three seated at the lounge startled, and Mori looked on with wide eyes.

Dazai let out a small whimper, as black fog accumulated around his body.

"Please, all mighty God, show yourself!" the preacher yelled as his son fell to the ground and started to tremble as if he was having a seizure. A pained cry was heard before the convulsions became worse. The lights went out just as the violent shaking subsided, and Dazai was left unmoving on the floor.

After a short while, Dazai slowly got back up. The room was left in complete silence. The preacher stepped back and snapped his fingers.

The small redhead looked with wide eyes as the fog once again gathered around Dazai, slowly morphing into a shape. A shape that almost looked human. Could that really be God?

The preacher smiled triumphantly at the disbelieving faces that were looking at the spectacle before them.

The apparition stood in a purple glow behind his son, folding its hands over the boy's narrow shoulders, holding him tightly, almost protectively, to its translucent body.

Dazai's eyes were closed, but his expression was distressed. He couldn't take much more. He knew that. He usually lasted longer, but his body was so weak. It seemed to get weaker every time.

"F-father..." he whispered pleadingly, eyes slowly opening.

The preacher shot him a brisk look but didn't stop.

"Dear Merciful Lord. Please forgive me. I am a sinner..." Dazai spoke weakly. The hold around him tightened, and he moaned painfully as sweat started to drip down his cheek. "Help me to release the hurt... and... ngh!"

Something was not right.

A gasp was heard from somewhere and he could hear his father's voice yell something, but he was unable to comprehend the words. He just knew he had done something wrong.

Everything around him turned to black as he hit the floor.

Dazai woke up to the sight of an unfamiliar ceiling. His body felt heavy, but he wasn't in the excessive amount of pain he had previously been in.

He turned his head to see the sleeping form of his youngest co-worker.

Atsushi's head was leaning on the back of the chair, and a trail of saliva went from his mouth to his cheek.

'Great', Dazai thought, as he realized that he was back at the hospital.

He looked at a clock on the wall but was unable to tell what it said. It was too far away, and the sight of his right eye had never quite recovered from years of neglected medical treatment.

"Atsushi?" he tried, but no sound came out. He cleared his throat. "Atsushi?" A little better this time, but still much too weak for his liking. Luckily, it was enough for Atsushi to startle awake.

The young man quickly wiped his chin.

"Dazai! You're awake!" he exclaimed excitedly.

"How long was I out?"

"You were brought in two days ago," Atsushi answered, receiving an annoyed grimace in response.

"Jeezes, I don't have time for this," Dazai mumbled and tried to get up.

The hands that within seconds held him back down was completely unnecessary. His back didn't allow him to sit up, and his leg screamed bloody murder at the small motion. Or maybe it was him.

"Shit," Dazai murmured and lay back in defeat.

"No! You're not going anywhere. The doctor said that you're lucky you didn't-" Atsushi wanted to say 'die', but already knew the response he would get to that. "...break yourself, entirely beyond repair."

Dazai rolled his eyes.

"You needed emergency surgery on your leg again. Please Dazai, please, just rest," Atsushi said pleadingly.

'Stupid sympathetical lovable kid'

"Fine," Dazai snarled. He realized there wasn't anything he could do right now anyway, in this useless state. He might as well heal as much as he could.

Atsushi fell back in the chair with a relieved sigh.

Sure, he was off suicide watch. But this-this was almost worse.

During the next week, the entire ADA had been babysitting him in the hospital. His doctor was still grumpy after his prison break, and apparently, he had gotten his cute-nurse-card revoked. The nurse he would see most frequently was an elderly, short, heavy-set woman. She didn't speak to him, she growled.

To top it off, he hadn't spoken to Chuuya since he arrived back at the hospital. Not even a phone call or text message.

Well, to be fair, there was no way for Dazai to know that, after the angry nurse so rudely had taken his phone right in the middle of a midnight prank call to Kunikida.

The heavy-handed changing of his bandages and the snarky comments, he could forgive. But revealing him to be Kunikida's prank caller, that was just simply unforgivable.

With an overly dramatic sigh, Dazai turned his head to face Kunikida who was his prison guard for the day.

"Kunikida... my dear friend," Dazai started, getting the blonde's attention. With a grimace, he looked at the injured man by his side. "If I promise you, to never- ever- call you again after midnight... unless it's an emergency (or if I'm drunk and need a ride back from the bar) would you please help me get my phone back?"

Kunikida scowled at him. "You swear?" he said sternly.

Dazai signed a cross with his finger across his chest. "Cross my heart and hope to die."

Kunikida left out an exasperated breath, and picked Dazai's phone up from his pocket.

"Did you have it all this time?" Dazai asked wide-eyed and looking very betrayed.

Kunikida shrugged and went back to writing in his book.

Dazai unlocked his phone, realizing with amazement that he still had half the battery left. But, no messages or missed phone calls from Chuuya. He thought for a second and started typing away.

Chuuya was in the middle of a meeting when his phone made a noise. Apologizing, he looked at the display under the table. Mackrell.

A feeling of relief rushed through him at the sign of life from his former partner, that he had left in a very sorry state at the hospital over a week ago. There was no reason for his presence to be questioned by the rest of the ADA too. The crabby blonde guy was more than enough.

He pressed the button to show the message from Dazai and cursed loudly as the sound of a keyboard interrupted the chatter in the meeting room.

If the last sentence is confusing, you can find your answers in chapter 4 ;-)

Thank you for reading! The next chapter will be up soon!