Chuuya had never felt more alone, as Dazai's words echoed through his mind.
Was that really how Dazai felt?
After all of those years did he really just consider him to be nothing more than just another pawn in his game of chess? Someone who was cursed to always be controlled by others, never making a real choice for himself? Someone who was just caught up in the means to another's end?
He didn't want to believe it, but Dazai had tried to kill him, so he wouldn't be surprised if there was at least a bit of truth hidden somewhere within his words.
The worst part of it all though was that while Chuuya wanted to be angry and rage against all the hurtful things that Dazai had said and done to him like he usually did, he just felt empty instead. Like one of Arahabaki's black holes was stuck in his chest, pulling him past the event horizon; a point of no return.
He knew he shouldn't have said the things that he did to Dazai and hated himself for bringing up Odasaku, but Dazai had tried to kill him and even went so far as to punch him during their argument, so there was also a part of him that felt justified in what he'd said, disgusting as he knew it was. Plus, there was what Dazai had said to him too. That definitely still stung.
Why did they have to have that fight?
However, maybe that fight had been a long time coming.
There had always been tension in their relationship with one another. It just came as a natural side effect of their strong personalities. So, if Chuuya was honest with himself, it was only a matter of time until a breaking point had been reached, as had just happened.
He just wished that what had been said between them hadn't held so many elements of truth.
With a sigh, Chuuya rubbed at his eyes, while wishing that he was able to release these emotions in a healthier way, rather than just lamenting over what had happened. He wished that he could sob. He wished that he could rage at the world and fight back against all those who had ever thought to drag him down. He wished that he could talk to Dazai. He wished that they could apologize to each other. He wished that everything would be okay.
But he was tired.
So very tired.
He couldn't deal with it anymore. The constant betrayal, pain, and loss that plagued his everyday life. He just wanted a break from it all, but with the life, he lived there was no room for breaks. So, Chuuya did the next best thing, as he laid back down in the bed and closed his eyes, willing himself to fall asleep.
He needed an escape from the physical, mental, and emotional pain that the world had wrought upon him and this was the only way he currently saw how.
Why did he always say the wrong thing?
Dazai slammed the door shut behind him, as he made his way into the old cabin's rustic living room, faint creaks sounding with each step he took.
Chuuya's words echoed in his ears.
"Did you try killing him too? Is that what happened?"
Dazai's fist still stung with the reminder of what he'd done to Chuuya after he'd said that.
He made his way over to a couch in the middle of the room, practically tearing at the seams and just generally uncomfortable. He was sure it'd seen better days, but it was fine, a couch like this was probably what he deserved anyway.
He continued to think back to his argument with Chuuya and Dazai found himself regretting it more and more with time. The thing was that Chuuya was right in what he'd said about Odasaku. It was after all Dazai's fault that he'd died because if he hadn't wasted all that time in Mori's office and instead had just gone straight to Odasaku or if he'd just done anything else, anything more, then maybe Odasaku would still be here. Yet, that didn't happen. Instead, Dazai had slacked off and let Odasaku die. It was his own fault. After all, he knew he was cursed with never getting anything he had ever truly wanted and he had still tried to have a friendship with Odasaku.
He'd cursed him. He'd been the harbinger of his death. It was all his fault.
So hearing Odasaku brought up in such a manner had spiked intense levels of self-hatred in Dazai that he hadn't felt in quite a while and instead of turning those feelings of anger towards himself, like he wished he would have, he'd lashed out and thrown them onto Chuuya.
Still, punching Chuuya and telling him all those awful things was just downright cruel and Dazai knew it. Chuuya had a reason to be angry and hurt, and while Chuuya had definitely overstepped a boundary, Dazai had overstepped many more with his visceral reaction.
He didn't even mean what he said.
To him, Chuuya would never be the second choice. It was why he always saved him from the grasp of Arahabaki when he was lost in corruption. It was why Chuuya was one of the only people to see what was beneath his bandages. It was why he did everything in his power to keep Chuuya from dying just like Odasaku had.
He should have kept his mouth shut. He shouldn't have made that drowning joke. He wished he could just disappear and have all of his problems disappear with him.
All he ever did was push people away.
All he ever did was make the people he loved hate him.
And it was all his own fault.
If he were more careful with what he'd said. If he'd paid attention to other people's boundaries. If he'd listened. If he'd stopped talking for just one second, then maybe he wouldn't be in the position that he'd found himself in now.
But did he even want that?
Every relationship, he'd ever had always ended the same way.
Heartbreak. Betrayal. Bloodshed. Death.
Every. Single. Time.
Was it really ethical to subject people to that?
So he lied, he pushed others away, he betrayed his own desires, because he knew he was rotten and deep down didn't want anyone else to become contaminated by his own corruption of being.
But Chuuya was different. Every time Dazai tried to push him away, he came back with more force each time. When Dazai would try to make fun of him, Chuuya would just trade barbs right back. Every time he betrayed him, Chuuya would meet him with forgiveness and understanding at least on some level.
But this time, they'd crossed each other's boundaries past the event horizon; the point of no return. This time Dazai was scared that this relationship was going to end like all the other ones.
He didn't know if he'd be able to handle that, despite how much he felt like he didn't deserve to have someone like Chuuya in his life. A person who despite having practically grown up in the mafia, still held empathy and compassion in his heart. A person who still held light in his eyes, after having been through so much pain, tragedy, betrayal, and death. A person who Dazai respected. A person who Dazai wanted to be okay.
He dropped his head into his hands, his fingers pulling at his hair, feeling some of it tear free from the roots. The faint pain of it grounded him. Made him feel better. Deep down, he wished it wouldn't.
He raised his head, letting his hands fall back down to his sides and the hair that he'd pulled out glided down to rest upon the emaciated couch.
Regardless of whether or not they would be able to come back from this, he at least had to apologize. It was the least he could do.
His eyes turned to the door that led to the room where Chuuya resided.
He needed to get up. He needed to go over there. He needed to apologize.
But when he was finally presented with facing the consequences of his actions, his legs suddenly felt like they'd been tied to the ground. His body refused to move. His mind whispered traitorous thoughts, telling him that Chuuya would never forgive him and that he deserved that, because why should someone like Chuuya be forced to stare at Dazai through a kaleidoscope any longer? He deserved to see Dazai for who he truly was. He deserved a chance to run away and a part of Dazai hoped that he did run because he knew that if he was in Chuuya's position, he would.
After all, all he ever did was run. From his emotions, his friends, and his problems. Then, he just turned it into some joke, because that was what his life was, wasn't it? Just one big old joke.
It was going to break him one day if it hadn't already.
Still, Dazai couldn't run forever and Chuuya deserved to be given a choice in terms of how he felt about Dazai. It was something that he'd always tried to give him in the past, so he still felt horrible that he'd forced Chuuya back into his game once more, but this time without any offering of consent to do what he did. Then again, when he thought back, Dazai knew that there was no other way to get out of there with both of them alive. There truly had been no time to give Chuuya a choice. Still, that conclusion didn't fix anything. The damage was already done, so now all he had to work with was the aftermath.
He had to make up for his failures and apologize to Chuuya. Something that didn't usually happen in their relationship, at least not upfront. Usually, when they had deeper discussions, it was presented in hidden meanings within the barbs that they threw at one another.
However, this time playful barbs wouldn't fix what was said. This time, they actually had to talk, as much as Dazai didn't want to. For if they didn't, this could potentially be the end of Double Black and selfishly, Dazai didn't want that either.
So, he forced himself off of the broken couch and made his way to the bedroom door, after filling a glass of water in the kitchen to give to Chuuya, who was probably parched after everything he'd gone through. Another thorn seemed to stab through his chest, as he realized that he probably should've brought Chuuya some water earlier.
It was too late for that now though, so better late than never, he supposed.
He opened the door to find Chuuya passed out on the bed, faint snores sounding with each breath he took.
As horrible as he knew it was, a part of him was relieved because it meant that he wouldn't have to confront the aftermath of their argument just yet.
Earlier, he'd told Chuuya that his snores had annoyed him on his way to finding the cabin, but that had been a lie.
When he'd been picking his way through the woods, Chuuya held tightly in his arms as he searched for a place to take up refuge in, Chuuya's snoring had been one of the few things that had kept him going because that noise let him know that he still had something to live for. Someone to protect. Someone who he cared about.
It had let him know that Chuuya was still alive.
Still, there was another part of him that wished that Chuuya wasn't sleeping so that they could talk like he had planned to do instead of prolonging that inevitable and painful conversation. Dazai needed to tell him just how sorry he was for what he'd said because he was. He never should have said the things he did.
If Chuuya left him too, he didn't know what he'd do… actually never mind, scratch that, he knew exactly what he'd do.
Yet, after becoming a part of the ADA and realizing that there was more to life than he'd initially thought before joining, he didn't know if he completely wanted to do that anymore, no matter how much his traitorous thoughts screamed at him otherwise.
Pulling a chair up next to the bed, Dazai placed the water glass he'd brought with him upon the bedside table, before sitting down and combing his fingers through Chuuya's hair, who continued to sleep through it. Distantly, Dazai registered that his eye was starting to turn a dark purple, from the blow of Dazai's fist and he was already so hurt.
Chuuya had to be in so much pain.
"I'm sorry."
His voice was small, something that was generally incredibly unnatural for him, and yet, for once in his life he wasn't pretending or playing games.
"I'm so sorry."
Dazai stayed there for a few moments longer, continuing to run his hands through Chuuya's hair, before he finally stood up and walked back out the door, upon realizing that Chuuya wouldn't be waking up anytime soon.
Closing the door behind him, much more gently this time than the previous time before, Dazai made his way back over to the couch, each step away from the bedroom door making his self-hatred increase tenfold.
He didn't make it all the way.
A flighty feeling began to consume his chest. All the blood in his body seemed to rush up to his ears. His heart thudded in his chest. He couldn't breathe. Chuuya would never forgive him. He couldn't breathe.
He collapsed to the floor, his knees buckling, and his back hitting the hard, unforgiving wall.
His hands clawed at the back of his neck, rising up and down his hairline.
He was a horrible person. He deserved to have Chuuya never forgive him. He deserved to feel this pain.
Quick, gasping breaths left him winded and wide eyes stared unseeingly into the wall ahead of him.
He had to calm down, he knew he did, but the thought of even trying to calm down somehow made things worse, as his mind turned against him.
You don't deserve calm. You don't deserve peace. You did this to yourself.
It was true. It was all true. Every single word of it.
"Stop," he choked out to no one in particular.
His vision blurred, but he wasn't crying. He felt like his heart was going to split into two. He couldn't think. He couldn't breathe. He couldn't-
And then as quickly as the attack came, it left, leaving him feeling numb all over again.
Blank, disoriented eyes stared through the far wall.
He was so tired.
When Chuuya awoke, night had fallen and he could hear the sounds of owls echoing through the trees in the distance.
He was thankful as he recognized that sleeping had helped him feel at least a little bit better. He no longer felt quite as numb as before and he could feel that his body was healing. Granted, he still had a black eye blossoming on his face from where Dazai had punched him. Along with sparks of anger regarding what Dazai had said and done, paired with his own guilt at what he had also said and done. Then, there was the aftermath of drowning and corruption that of course still remained.
Still, he was happy that he finally felt more… normal about it. Instead of that chilling, all-encompassing numbness that he had felt initially following the argument. At least now he had anger and guilt back on his side. That had to count for something, right?
As he continued to wake up, he noticed just how parched his throat was. He'd meant to get water before, but then the argument had happened and it had understandably just kind of left his mind. Still, he didn't really want to leave the room to grab water and risk potentially running into Dazai.
He just didn't know what he wanted to say to him yet.
A part of him wanted to walk right up to that bastard, saying "yo Dazai," and throwing a punch his way that sent him straight through the wall, but as soon as that thought entered his mind, he was plagued with the guilt, because he'd said horrible things as well. Trying to solve a fight with another fight would do absolutely nothing. So Chuuya did his best to accept that with a groan.
Why did everything have to be so complicated?
He wished that he could just pretend like nothing had happened, but their argument had been far too serious for that, so that wouldn't work either.
Eventually, Chuuya just decided that if he ran into Dazai, he'd just do his best to ignore him until he had a plan regarding what to do.
Slowly, Chuuya pulled himself up and slid his legs off of the side of the bed, carefully placing his feet on the floor and slowly applying his weight, as to test his ability to walk.
He quickly found that even just placing his feet on the floor really hurt, so instead he tapped into Tainted and made himself float a few millimeters off the ground so that he wouldn't have to deal with the pain of walking nor would he exhaust himself by using his ability after having so recently used corruption.
However, as soon as he made it to the door, the glinting of a glass caught his eye and he turned back towards the bed to realize that there had been a perfectly good glass of water sitting there the whole time and he never even needed to expend so much energy in the first place.
Well fuck, his mind supplied.
Still, the only way that that glass had made it there, was if Dazai had done it and despite wanting to resolve their argument and work things out, whether that meant beating the shit out of that bastard or politely talking it out like the mentally stable people that they weren't, he sure as hell wasn't drinking water that had been procured by Dazai Osamu.
He was kind of hungry too, so it wouldn't hurt to see if there was any food in the kitchen as well.
So, opening the door, Chuuya found himself in a small living room, a kitchen sitting at the end of it.
And there, in that living room, standing between him and the kitchen, sat the man that he'd really been wanting to avoid, staring blankly at a wall, all of the life seeming to have faded from his eyes. One might've thought he was dead, if not for the faint rise and fall of his chest.
All of Chuuya's thoughts of food and water instantly vanished, as he observed the man who had made the past few days of his life a living hell, now looking so weak and broken on the floor.
For a moment, Chuuya just wanted to walk away and avoid Dazai as he'd initially planned because he didn't really feel like dealing with Dazai, his mental state, or the fallout of their argument. He just wanted a break from it all. However, life was hardly ever that fair.
Regardless, unlike Dazai, Chuuya didn't run from his problems, or rather he was at least a bit better at it.
He was going to try to do the mentally stable thing. He was going to try to talk it out.
So, he cleared his throat, causing Dazai to break his trance-like state, as he stared at the wall to meet Chuuya's cerulean eyes, having finally taken notice of his presence.
He watched as Dazai lifted himself off the ground and made his way over, looking entirely unreadable to the average onlooker. Still, Chuuya wasn't just anyone. He could see the regret and fatigue lurking within him.
Chuuya sat down on the couch, wincing slightly at the horrible condition it was in, which wasn't at all kind to his injuries. Still, he forced back the pain and instead made himself focus on the oncoming conversation, as Dazai took a seat next to him, shifting uncomfortably.
"We need to talk."