Chapter Text
Dazai clung to Odasaku, fingers digging into the worn fabric of his jacket. He could feel the sweltering heat from the fire. He could feel the tight embrace of Nakahara behind him.
He could feel his heart pounding in his chest like it was ready to burst.
The blood rushing through his head made it feel light, and the aching in his heart throbbed.
Nakahara was also warm, but not like the fire, and he wasn’t still like Odasaku. He was shaking harder than Dazai himself who gasped for air as tears soaked his cheek and the clothes underneath his grip.
His joints felt locked in place, like he couldn’t bring himself to move.
Please. Please. Please.
No matter how much begging he did in his mind he would never be able to cry out loud, he physically couldn’t. And Odasaku would never be able to know that he was sorry, for everything bad that had happened to the man.
Dazai wasn’t oblivious to the familiar styled wrap of bandages around the man’s neck, Dazai knew that Mori had done something to Odasaku but he was too scared to confirm anything.
The bandages tightly wrapped mocked him, with the knowledge they hid away.
The fear that Odasaku was like him was…worse than anything he could think of.
The ability of speaking being taken away was horrible, and he knew from experience.
Dazai sobbed with long and hard breaths, trying to lean into the hand sluggishly patting his head.
Odasaku was still comforting him even with waning strength, and it was admirable.
It was only when something cold pressed into his face did he fully open his eyes to look around, and the first thing he saw was the laxing of Odasaku’s fingers around Dazai’s whistle. The metal reflected the light of flames, and Nakahara wrapped strong arms around his torso, hauling him upwards.
“Dazai! We need to go now!” Nakahara shouted, coughing not a moment later.
Dazai tried to fight to stay with Odasaku, but his body was too weak to escape from the red-head’s hold. In the last second he was in Odasaku’s limp embrace he grabbed the whistle, the last part of the man’s life.
Clumsy fingers met stiff and unmoving ones, but the whistle was safely in his grasp now.
It felt like the world was moving at a snail's pace but the flames were eating away faster than he could blink.
In the moments he was dragged away he stared at the sparks of fire licking at the plaster on the walls.
He wanted to stay with Odasaku. He didn’t want to leave his best friend.
Dazai had the intense urge to close Odasaku’s eyes for him, to stay until the man took his last inhale and left the world in a flurry of fire and explosion.
No. No. No! No! No!No!No!No!NO!NO!NO!NO!NO!NO!NO!NONONONONONO—
“Leave him! He’s already gone, I’m sorry!”
He was yanked away from the cot with a sob, fingers clawing at the smoky air.
Dazai watched helplessly as Odasaku’s body disappeared behind the crumbling door frame. His heart felt like it was being torn out of his chest, he was a terrible friend.
Odasaku’s body wasn’t even covered in cloth and Dazai didn’t have a moment more to mourn as the roof finally collapsed and sent the whole floor shaking. Concrete crashed through and Nakahara grunted as a pipe cut through the wall and jumped over it.
The structure of the building shook aggressively, enough that Dazai wondered if he’d die with Odasaku.
…
Odasaku.
…
So Dazai did what he could and screamed as loud as he could, wishing that Odasaku was right behind them with his comforting aura that always had Dazai calm in the most stressful of situations.
Well, as much as a scream could sound with his vocal cords gone.
It was an ugly cry that slipped from his lips, but he reached with flailing hands to no avail.
Nakahara was too strong for him, pulling him to safety and running down the halls with a limp every few steps.
Pain bloomed everywhere along his body, from his arms to shoulders to knees and ankles. He felt swollen and sluggish, though adrenaline was pumping through him to keep him conscious. The pain in his arm was increasing with the time passing, but Dazai refused to let the pain overtake him.
Dazai couldn’t focus on any of the walls passing by, instead keeping his attention on the whistle in his trembling hands as Nakahara dragged him. The red head was strong and determined, Dazai could tell from their speed.
His cries soon turned to anger, feeling like a rabid animal, and he fell silent when they ended up in a familiar hallway that wasn’t completely in flames yet surprisingly.
When Mori’s door was in sight the emotion in his chest seethed hotter than the fire, uncontrollably lashing at his lungs and forcing tears from his eyes. The white and black smoke mixed together, the oxygen being eaten away more every second, leaving a wasteland.
Dazai ripped himself away from Nakahara and ran as quickly as he could into the office he knew all too well, coming face to face with Mori who sat with his arms folded on the table in front of him. He pressed a sleeve to his mouth, wheezing with tears. The window behind Mori was wide open, revealing the heavy clouds still blanketing the city after the main hurricane blew past.
The after-storm was in full swing, making the loud white noise around the roaring fire clear that it was the weather. Rain soaked through the parted curtains and wind swooped in wildly, filling the cold air with a cool refreshness.
That didn’t last long though, because when Dazai opened the door all the smoke behind him flooded into the room and out the window.
Dazai panted heavily with a dark look, his bandages soaked through with sweat until they were slipping off his skin with enough dampness that would’ve made him cringe if he was concerned about them.
He glared at the doctor, gritting his teeth when Nakahara stumbled through the doorway, looking no better than how Dazai felt.
His bright hair wasn’t a clear orangish red anymore, but practically a brown like his own from all the ash and soot that fell from the ceilings and walls. His hands were a swollen red and covered in blisters. If Dazai were to look down he’s sure that he would find himself matching, each of their fingernails bloody and chipped with hardly developed scabs.
Dazai stared at Mori’s face, the man’s skin pale and hair tangled. It was unusual to see Mori so unkept, but the satisfaction of him looking miserable made Dazai huff.
Dazai shook with a trembling rage, fists by his sides with his whistle digging into his palm.
“Dazai, my boy.” Mori began, voice low and eyes flickering away. “You don’t have much time left.”
How could Mori be so shameless?
Dazai snarled, stomping to a shelf and ripping a book off to throw it at the doctor. It slid across the desk with a loud clatter, the cover bending and knocking off the picture frames and folders, sending them to the ground.
Another shift wave shuddered through the floor, the pictures on the wall tilting and the curtains by the window swayed. An ominous creaking spiked through the air and everyone froze. Dazai looked around, trying to figure out which angle the floor was going to collapse.
His anger towards Mori dissipated, but was not forgotten.
There was a boom out of the blue, and suddenly everyone in the room was thrown in the direction of the window. Nakahara let out a shout as he quickly recovered, activating his ability to remain standing. Mori fell out of his chair and slammed into the wall, and Dazai just barely missed hitting the desk.
With all the motion Dazai ran to the window his bandages loosened enough that they slipped from his face and neck. The ones on his arms were still relatively secure so they didn’t unravel, but the sling slid off his shoulder.
Dazai’s entire world was full of collapsing debris; sound didn’t make sense as the buildings around them tilted from their ninety degrees to forty-five.
Nakahara screamed as the ground approached out the window, furniture sliding across the floor and almost hitting Dazai.
This was how they were going to die.
As Dazai silently accepted his fate, ready to die underneath rubble.
“Dazai!” He spun around, seeing Mori lunge towards him with a red scarf, and for a moment it seemed like he wouldn’t die from the collapse, but by strangulation.
Instead, like despite every bit of pain over the months were nothing, Mori wrapped him tight as the floor gave out.
Darkness followed, and Dazai tumbled with Mori as his shield.
Down.
Down.
Down they went, until nothing was left to fall from.
________
Chuuya screamed as loud as he could, hands cupped around his mouth to increase his volume, but there was only so much he could do.
“Dazai!” He took a big breath, “Dazaai!”
The cold air was like a slap in the face, but refreshing nonetheless now that the fire wasn’t encasing him from every direction.
The light putter of rain came down on him, nothing like the hurricane days before. The dark clouds covered the sky, or was it the black smoke rising from the crumpled hospital?
The streets weren’t vacant like before.
They were full of people.
Those from the hospital, people he met.
Women. Men. Children.
In the distance Chuuya could see the nice lady, Kouyou, searching for someone as she called out to the pile of rubble. Limbs stuck out under slates of concrete, blood coating every surface as the smell of kerosine, rot, and pollution spread out.
In Kouyou’s clenched fingers Chuuya could make out a shred of red and yellow fabric, dragging along the ground as the woman sobbed. Her makeup smeared with soot, beautiful hair down in knotted curls, and voice lost amongst many that looked for friends.
For family.
Chuuya looked away in respect, knowing that Kouyou had lost someone in the fire.
He could even see that old door man, the one that greeted Dazai with a smile. He was guiding a group of teenagers, probably even around Chuuya’s age.
Everyone visible on the street was distraught, all injured in some way after rushing to evacuate. Chuuya himself was hurt, but with ability returned he was able to get out of the mess the hospital made easily.
A part of him wanted to help find other survivors, but his mind was set on only one person. He could be a hero later, but right now a friend needed him.
Dazai.
He called out again, worried if he would even be heard above the chaos.
“Blow your goddamn whistle for fucks sake!” He cried, beginning to lose hope.
The rain poured down, but more like a cold embrace, like the earth was apologizing instead of beating down on the people it’d harmed.
By the end of the day the remaining people gathered together and followed each other to find shelter, leaving behind the burning wreck of a once hospital.
Everyone but Chuuya.
____
It was near midnight or so when Chuuya lost his footing, slipping down a mountain of jagged concrete that he’d been overturning in hopes of finding Dazai. With the help of his gravitational powers Chuuya easily lifted and moved the concrete, but there was just so much of it that it was taking forever to search through one section.
He’d hoped that if he found the place where Mori’s office was then he’d get to Dazai but so far no luck.
Scattered around were a few people insane enough to stay with Chuuya, looking for their own people with bloody hands that pushed at concrete slabs fruitlessly.
Chuuya’s heart ached, and finally giving into the small voice whispering in his head, he hobbled over to those people and helped clear a path.
____
Chuuya stared longingly, completely motionless as the sun came up and another pair of people were reunited thanks to him. Praises and thanks were showered onto him, but it meant nothing as he watched the last of the people leave, rendering him the only person left on the block.
Well, not exactly the only one.
There were a few zombies lured out by the smoke and gore, gorging upon corpses of long dead people and making Chuuya sick to his stomach.
…
He ignored the undead, angrily flipping over a scorched door and hacking when the remnants of ash flew into his face.
The morning was quiet, and there was still no sign of life.
No sign of Dazai.
________
There was utter darkness.
There was fire burning somewhere.
There was a body lying beside him, with arms around him as if to protect and cushion.
It was a miracle he was still alive and…relatively unharmed.
…
Dazai groaned at the pounding in his head, wanting to stretch out and relieve the aching in his spine from being pressed into the ground. It felt like he’d been out for a while, but he couldn’t tell without a guide in this dark abyss.
A stickiness was soaked into his clothes but there was nothing he could do.
Maybe…maybe he’d disappear soon.
This was the end for him, and Dazai breathed out slowly.
It didn’t smell too much like smoke, but he could tell there wasn’t too much oxygen left if he was going to stay here to die.
…
He heard a noise beside him, and Dazai froze.
It was Mori.
________
Chuuya clutched his head with tears pouring down his cheeks, images of Shirase and Yuan, and all his friends torn apart until only mush was left. Now Dazai’s face was added to that, his heart pounding like the heat from the fire.
It was still going strong, eating away at the wood and plaster, serving to remind him of the hunger that spiked through his gut.
He shrieked at the horrible flashes that mixed with white labs and sterile tables, kids just like him that he couldn’t keep safe, that he failed to protect. Chuuya sobbed, feeling like shit as he gripped his jacket.
There was nothing left he could do.
________
A flash of pink light filled his vision, and suddenly Elise was crouched low to the ground with a disgruntled face, but her eyes were filled with fear as she realized the inevitable death awaiting Mori, her creator.
With the recovered vision he noticed how the slabs of concrete and metal beams fell in a way that created a small cave. He was in the center of the pyramid by pure luck.
Dazai had been pushed away from Mori, and now the doctor’s ability was activated in the cramped space.
Dazai only stared listlessly.
It wasn’t his problem if Mori couldn’t accept the death approaching, activating his ability was useless, only serving to ruin the peace with Elise’s eventual complaining, but none of that came.
“Dazai, take my hand.” Mori grunted out, pain lacing his voice as his face curled in the faint lighting.
“There’s not much time, I’m so sorry I did this. All of it.” He choked out, blood dribbling from his lips.
Dazai eyed him.
“I was going to explain everything but then somebody set fire, so I planned to wait for you to come to me.”
Why should he listen to the stupid doctor? It’d serve no purpose, he’d just nullify Elise.
“Listen to me,” Mori suddenly said, voice airy and shaky as he took ahold of Dazai's shirt but not actually touching him.
“I can’t walk, I won’t make it, I’m going to die.” He gurgled in the silence, red bubbling out. “I tried to protect you, and I was awful, I’m so sorry. I don’t want you to forgive me, hate me all you need, but just make it out alive.”
Elise whimpered, burying her face into her arms, eyes watering with big fat tears threatening to spill over her face.
“I promised your parents I’d keep you safe and I wasn’t ready, I wasn’t fit to be a guardian, and I hurt you, so much. It’s selfish that I’m apologizing right now because I know it’s only my conscience being relieved.”
Dazai blinked sluggishly, feeling like he was floating in the dark, the air getting thinner. Mori’s grip loosened on his shirt, and from the low lighting Dazai couldn’t see crushed bone sticking out from the doctor’s hips and shoulders.
How was he even still alive?
“Nullify my ability, find Chuuya. He’ll find you actually, the light will be enough, please.”
…
But, Dazai wasn’t ready
He was so close.
So close to dying.
And the thought of Nakahara pulling him into the light from underneath rubble was hopeful.
No.
Of Chuuya saving him.
For the first time in a long time, Dazai cried under Mori’s touch, but this time it wasn’t harsh or demanding nor correcting. It was a goodbye, because he would never be hurt again, not anymore.
This was his ticket to freedom.
…
Bursting blue light erupted the second Mori’s trembling hand wiped away his tears, and Dazai flinched…but he knew there was nothing but a promise of sorrow.
________
Chuuya sat numbly, gazing upon the ruined city.
It was well past noon, but the heavy clouds blocked out the sky.
It was over.
Everything.
He’d been still for a while, ready to get up and leave if nothing changed in his search, but something was holding him back. He was scared that if he gave up Dazai would be right there, waiting aimlessly as Chuuya abandoned him.
For all he knew Chuuya could be sitting right above Dazai.
He shuddered, feeling the weight of his heart.
…
He’d been searching for hours and still no Dazai, not even a shred of his scarf to collect like Kouyou and her loss.
All of this was his fault.
If he’d just stuck with the Sheep instead of wandering then no one would’ve died. Not Shirase, not Yuan, none of Dazai’s friends, none of his friends, no one.
…
And neither Dazai, if he was dead.
Chuuya wiped his tears and snot with the back of his sleeve, afraid that crying any longer would put him in danger of being vulnerable to zombies.
With a final inhale, gathering his bearings and sucking up the stinging of his wounds, he began to walk.
The blisters on his hands burned with a white heat, the surrounding skin melted and practically dripping to goop with infection.
He cringed horribly at the feeling.
…
Wait.
He saw something in the corner of his eye.
…
THERE!
A few dozen meters away was a small strip of blue light peeking out from beneath the rubble. Its glow wavered, then started to fade.
Chuuya wasted not a second more as he sprinted, almost flying over the debris.
He was completely weightless before landing, careful to avoid shifting the structure.
Dazai was so close, and more importantly, alive.
________
Dazai waited with anticipation, heart thumping as he shimmied off his sling. It would only hinder him in escaping, so he tossed it towards Mori’s corpse where Elise disappeared.
His cheek lingered with the sensation of Mori touch, but he ignored everything else as he lay uncomfortably on the rigid ground.
After a few minutes he heard something shift, then dust stirred up from the ‘walls.’
“Dazai!?” A muffled voice yelled.
Dazai’s eyes widened, if Chuuya was digging him out then he might be crushed if the wrong piece was moved.
Carefully, Dazai pulled out his whistle, eyes briefly watering at the familiar grooves.
Placing the whistle between his teeth he blew as hard as he could with the room he had, the situation somehow giving Deja vu but he couldn’t recall why.
“I’m here! I’m here Dazai, just hold on!”
The tears pricking at Dazai’s eyes grew fierce, but he forced himself to be patient, holding his bad arm to stay calm.
…
Dazai squeezed the scarf around him, the one Mori wrapped him in before they fell. In the flash he’d seen as gravity disappeared Elise was summoned and did her best to block giant slabs and finding a place to crash, and it only worked because the scarf kept skin contact away.
He didn’t know how to feel about Mori.
He despised the doctor for everything he went through. Odasaku, Ango, Chuuya, his voice.
…
The small space felt smaller with each passing second.
Fucking claustrophobia.
Dazai controlled his breathing.
He would only be here a little while longer, he just had to hold out until then.
J—just a little longer…
________
Chuuya did his best to not rush through his digging, gravity lifting up the rock and throwing it as far as he could.
After hearing Dazai’s whistle he knew he was in the right spot.
His blood roared in his head, fingers bleeding again but he kept telling himself, it’ll be over soon.
Just a little longer.
He moved everything with as much precision and accuracy as possible, touching as many pieces of rubble if he accidentally knocked something and sending it all into the air.
He was so close.
He wasn’t going to mess up.
Dazai was all he had left.
…
Chuuya grunted when he took a second breather, sweat dripping off him still and wincing at his injuries.
With what felt like hours, he finally pulled away a chunk of concrete to reveal a small hole, and when he ducked down to look he saw Dazai’s face staring back at him, feet closest to Chuuya and still smothered in blood.
“Holy shit! Dazai!” He cried out, slipping his hands under the ‘roof’ and using all his strength to launch it in the air.
It was a terribly risky move, but timing it just right, he grabbed Dazai’s shoe and yanked him out of the spot.
He saw Mori’s corpse, but it was smashed moments later as his ability was nullified and dropped the rubble.
The two of them fell back and rolled down the mound of ruin.
Chuuya held Dazai tightly against his chest, shielding them as they came to a stop at a small dip and gasped for air.
It was over.
“Oh my god!” Chuuya burst into laughter, hugging Dazai from where they lay in a heap.
“Holy fuckin’ mother of—I can’t believe you’re alive!!”
Dazai hugged him back, face hidden in Chuuya’s arm.
Chuuya pulled away and sat up, examining Dazai for new injuries.
The brunet was still covered in blood, but it seemed like it wasn’t his. His hair looked grey from dust and his bandages were unraveling from his skin.
White gauze revealed two brown eyes staring back with relief and scars lining his neck and arms. But, Chuuya paid them no mind as he engaged another hug, knowing that they were safe, and Dazai’s arms were just as snug around him.
“You’re okay, you’re okay,” Chuuya muttered, over and over, reassuring himself that Dazai was still kicking.
The clouds in the sky paused, as if halting the rain that soaked the two boys and letting the sun gaze down on them.
Its warmth was gentle, and Chuuya smiled.
Dazai was safe.
He was safe.
They were safe.
________
Dazai let Chuuya hug him for as long as he needed, and he would admit…the hug was nice.
After their little reunion the two of them scaled down the hospital remains and ditched the block. Any supplies that were somewhat salvageable wouldn’t be for long, and who knows what kind of attention all the black smoke would attract.
They hunkered down in Bar Lupin that night, limping through the streets unsteadily and avoiding the small hoards that migrated towards the hospital.
Memories sparked as Dazai looked around the bar, recalling the drinks and the venting and late nights.
The scarf from Mori was in his hands, and Odasaku’s whistle was back where it should be, around his neck.
…
“Dazai,” Chuuya whispered in the low lit room.
Candles were set out and burning with a pleasant smell, slightly masking the gore.
Dazai looked over quietly, almost done scrubbing his face clean with a wet rag, albeit struggling with the new sling on his arm.
“I’m sorry for all the damage—”
Thwack!
Dazai shook his head immediately.
No. No apologies. Enough of those. What happened happened and I want no more apologies.
…
The wet rag he’d thrown in Chuuya’s direction slid down the wall, effectively cutting off the red head.
There was silence, and then Chuuya nodded slowly with wet and puffy eyes, having understood the sign.
“Yeah, alright,” He said, voice shaking, but Dazai could see a faint smile forming.
“No more apologies, just,” he glanced over, and Dazai scooted to sit beside him with his—Odasaku’s—blanket.
“Just surviving, right?”
Dazai nodded, and they basked in silence.
Together.
Chuuya’s eyes left Dazai’s hands, and he smiled softly.
“Together.”
Now with pinkies linked they finished wiping and disinfecting their burns throughout the night, ready to start a new life without the Sheep and without Odasaku and Ango.
Even if it meant crying and hurting until pain was the only thing left, but at least they wouldn’t be alone.
Soon they would head north, to where the hordes were rumored to be thinned.
But for now they had to heal and figure out how to avoid the after storms and harsh conditions.
To live and escape the storm.
Together.