(I have decided to age up Kouyou to make her fit into the story better. I've learned a lot about BSD while writing this, all though I still have much confusion about the storyline and many of the characters. I have not finished the manga or novel(s?) yet. With that in mind- I'd just like to remind anyone reading that all though some things might be true to the story- most of it is not).

And also, I am inspired these days, so I'm spamming your inboxes with updates and I like it!

It was another two months until Chuuya saw Dazai again. He could hardly recognize him, sitting in a wheelchair and being rolled through the garden by Master Mori. The doctor seemed to have taken a special liking to the dark-haired boy, and spent almost all of his time with him.

Dark eyes stared into the air in front of him at nothing. He seemed completely closed-in on himself and Chuuya wondered what the master had done to him. Nothing good, that much was clear.

Also, Dazai never seemed to be healing. During the next weeks, Chuuya would see him out of the room he had been moved to more frequently. Always accompanied by Mori. He looked worse for wear every time.

Chuuya had tried to wave to him a couple of times but received a smack over the head by Kouyou, his teacher and caretaker. Apparently, they still weren't actually allowed to interact. That was, until one day, Dazai was being wheeled into the library where Chuuya was studying, together with Kouyou.

"I thought it was time for you two to finally greet each other properly," Mori said with the same smile he usually bore. Chuuya looked timidly up at the man, as he positioned the wheelchair in front of the small coffee table across from them.

"After all, if everything goes according to our plans for you boys- you might spend a lot of time together in the future, once your training is complete."

Dazai didn't look up and Chuuya wondered if he even recognized him and what plans Master Mori spoke of. But, he knew better than to ask questions.

"Thank you, Master Mori," Chuuya answered politely, as the older man left the room.

"Hey," he said weakly and reached his arm out to shake Dazai's hand to keep the illusion that they had never actually met.

Dazai flinched so violently at the movement that Chuuya jumped in his seat.

"Don't touch me!"

Dazai's breath became erratic, as he quickly raised his fist to his mouth and started chewing on a frail and bandaged hand.

Even the usually stoic Kouyou seemed startled at the unexpected reaction before she sighed greatly and tried to smile reassuringly.

"Don't do that, please. You'll hurt yourself," she raised a steady hand and carefully reached out and lowered Dazai's hand. He still startled a bit, but he seemed like he had snapped out of the trance he was in.

He hesitantly obliged, and let his hand fall to his lap.

"S-sorry, I-I don't know what happened." His voice was barely more than a whisper, but he finally got a hold of himself and looked up at the alarmed red-haired boy. 'Sorry', he mouthed again, soundless.

"It seems like Dazai-san has started his training with Master Mori," Kouyou explained in a hushed voice to her student, as if that explained anything.

This was certainly not the kind of training Chuuya received himself. Sure, it was hard and he was pressed to his limits through the sparring-sessions, but this? Whatever was seated across from him, had already been pushed far beyond that. Even Chuuya could see that.

And still- it had only just started.

"Dazai? What are you doing?"

The young teen laying with his eyes shut didn't answer.

"Dazai?"

Chuuya walked further into the room, peering at the bandaged mess on the bed.

"Shh, I'm dead."

Dazai hardly moved but shut his eyes even tighter.

"What?"

Chuuya made a grimace, nose wrinkling at the strange antics of his soon-to-be partner.

"I'm dead!"

Dazai raised his voice slightly.

"But, you're not."

"Sure I am."

This was clearly not getting Chuuya anywhere.

"Why do you wanna be dead?"

"Why do you wanna be alive?"

Chuuya didn't like that answer. Or question. Or whatever it was.

"I don't think I like this game."

"Not a game. I'm dead. I've decided."

Dazai hadn't opened his eyes the whole day. He was dead-set on boring whoever was babysitting him today, to death. Or, preferably, just to leave. He didn't actually care that much anymore.

He was tired of this hospital, he was tired of being under constant observation, he was tired of having pains and he was tired of being scared to fall asleep in case he would reveal anything else in his subconscious state.

There was a sound of someone shifting in the chair beside the bed. Someone was getting up. Dazai held his breath for a moment, listening intently to what was going on. The door opened and the door closed.

'Was it time for them to switch already?', Dazai thought, and carefully peeked with one eye, until he quickly squeezed it shut as the door handle was pushed down and the door opened again.

He waited quietly for whoever had taken over for Kunikida (probably? He sure grunted like Kunikida), to take a seat and make any sort of noise to reveal him or herself, whoever it was.

And he waited and waited and waited, until...

"You're not dead."

Dazai stirred at the familiarity of that statement, before tightening his lips in a small pout, squeezing his eyes shut.

"Yeah, I am. This time, it's real."

"Stupid bastard..."

The drugs they were pumping him full of (because he still wasn't allowed to take the pills) … (or not take the pills which were the actual problem) made him impossibly sleepy. Shortly after Chuuya had arrived, the phone-cleptomaniac-nurse entered and gave him another dose.

So, Dazai fell asleep.

He had no idea for how long he had slept, but when the short redhead shook him awake, it was dark out.

"Dazai?" he called, both hands shaking fatigue shoulders as the dark-haired man tried to force himself out of whatever hell he had been trapped in moments before.

"Hey, come on, wake up!" One slap on the right cheek, one slap on the left.

"I-I'm here. I'm here," Dazai rasped sleepily as he locked his arms around Chuuya's, using him as an anchor back to reality.

"Shit, Kunikida said you had some serious nightmares," Chuuya sighed. "But that was a bit much, huh?"

Dazai looked confused. "Did I have a nightmare?" he asked stupidly.

The glare that shot back was nothing less than disbelieving. "Yeah, you're like, resiting the entire Bible in your sleep, mackerel."

"Dammit!" Dazai covered his face with his hands. He had done that again? "Yeah, I tend to that these days."

Chuuya crossed his legs, rocking his left leg restlessly on top of the right.

"So, what's the plan? This clearly can't continue and-" Chuuya shot a look back at the door, making sure it was shut. Lowering his voice, he whispered, "Apparently, Mori has met with your father again."

The somewhat normal skin tone that Dazai had gotten back to his face, drained right back out of it.

"None of them came out of that alive, I hope," he mumbled, desperately fighting an ever losing battle with his mind to stay composed.

"Shut the fuck up, mackerel. I'm risking my ass telling you this-"

Dazai rolled his eyes. He never knew where he had Chuuya these days and the feeling was probably mutual. But, never the less, he was grateful for the heads up.

"They know you're alive, Dazai. They've joined forces..."

Short chapter- really sorry for leaving you all hanging like this, but I needed to get it out in the world. The next chapter needs some work for everything to come together as I want it to do, and this chapter is what I needed right now.

Until next time, stay awesome!