Chapter Text
Chuuya woke up feeling better than he had in months, but that might be because he had actual strength to sit up.
When his eyes opened again, he saw white, just like any other day, except this time, he didn’t feel angry; he somehow felt calm. He propped himself up on his elbow and pushed himself up with less effort than usual.
Chuuya took a glance around the room. Everything was the same, only this time there was the colorful juice packaging sitting on the one table in the room, and then the almost empty cracker package that he hadn’t quite finished before dozing off.
He picked it up with his scar-littered hand, grabbed the singular cracker that was left, and took a nibble from it. It was surprisingly good, like the last nineteen of them had been. They had just enough flavor to be appetizing, but not enough to be rejected by his stomach.
He glanced up at the clock; it was 7:30 in the morning, so he’d have his morning session soon, then. He looked at the glass, which was one-way, so he wasn’t able to see through it. But a single part of him longed for his doctor; it was weird. He’d never once felt this way, for gods' sake, he made his last doctor lose his hand.
So what was his deal with this Dazai Osamu?
He’d been questioning this the moment that the psychiatrist had broken through his defenses; no other doctor had tried to gain his trust like that. Usually, it was things like threatening him or guilting him into coming closer.
The last doctor who pulled that stunt got exactly what they deserved.
Dazai, however, raised his hands and stepped back. He gave him space and patience; it wasn’t anything that he was used to at all.
Then he brought him food that he could actually eat.
He glanced down at the package of empty crackers as if he’d just been reminded of their existence. Pulling his knees to his chest, and just stared at the empty plastic. Getting stuck in his mind, away from the place he’s hated the moment he saw the doors.
—
The door opened, what felt like five minutes later, it had been forty.
He looked up upon being snapped out of his thoughts, knees going back to hanging off the bed at the sight of his doctor. His expression changed, just slightly, not enough to be completely noticeable unless you were looking for it.
He only watched while the brunet waved a hello, greeting him like he did yesterday when he brought him the crackers and juice. “Good morning, Nakahara-san!” The redhead’s eyes followed his figure while he pulled a chair in front of his bed and sat down.
Chuuya’s lips parted, but he didn’t speak; he only breathed. He used to believe that it was selfish of him to be breathing air that his sister should be breathing, but that guilt had dissipated at some point between yesterday morning and now.
He shifted in his spot, half-listening while Dazai explained what they were going to do today. Apparently, it was just questions today, not that he wanted the physical contact, ew… Right…
He was pulled back out of his half-zoned-out state when the doctor mentioned speech therapy. Yet he had no urge whatsoever to attack him for it - usually, he would have, but this doctor had him in a chokehold already.
Chuuya shook his head, a low sound rumbling in his throat like he was trying to speak, but his mouth wouldn’t cooperate enough to do so.
Dazai looked at him strangely, but it was like he was a person. And somehow, he translated the strangled sound he had embarrassingly made.
“Yes, speech therapy. I’m afraid it’s required for me to help you with it today, just try your best. We’ll cross that obstacle when we get to it, though.” He smiled kindly under his mask. Chuuya couldn’t see it, but he just knew that it would be a grin.
He nodded, averting his eyes to anywhere else in the usually boring room that was being filled with an interesting doctor. Why is it that his eyes can’t seem to go away from him for that long? It was pissing him off, but not in the usual way. The redhead crossed his arms over his chest, begrudgingly looking back at his psychiatrist when he started speaking.
“Okay, Nakahara-san. First question: how long do you think that you’ve been non-verbal? Just a general area.” The doctor held his pen over his paper and looked up to see what response he’d get.
“..E..” He only got a singular letter out, staring back down at his legs, and gestured with his fingers instead. Holding up a 1, most likely one year.
“Hmn, I see.” He jotted that down in the box below the question and moved on to the next. Looking up before he spoke this time. “You had a roommate, and he gave me a brief explanation of what had happened after the incident. He described how you stayed in your room most hours of the day. And that he had to bring food to you most of the time, and then when you’d come out, you’d act aggressively and not speak to him after a couple of weeks.”
He took a pause to let that sink in for a moment before speaking up once more. “How much of this do you remember? From what I understand, you weren’t in your right mind after that day, so your mind might’ve shut down in order to protect you.”
Chuuya took a few shaky breaths, recalling only brief moments of what Dazai had described. The silence, the episodes he’d suddenly go into, causing him to curl in on himself and hug himself while he tried to drown out the world in his bed. The sheer ruthless and meaningless anger he had at his roommate, whom he couldn’t quite remember the name of right now.
He also remembered something else.
Chuuya would go into his mindless state, where he’d just stare at the wall or ceiling for hours at a time. Dissociating, in a sense, he used to call it “going to the secret gardens” when he hated the world more than what was in his head. It often worked; the redhead still does it to this day, and it helps pass the restless hours he had here.
To respond to the question after a couple of long moments of silence, he made a motion with his hand that said that he remembers a few things, but not all of the memory. Dazai nodded in response, writing it down neatly on his notepad.
They both noticed that they were slowly but surely forming a silent connection, or understanding of sorts. Anyone would be able to see it; Chuuya hadn’t once attacked Dazai, and Dazai hadn’t once made a move to attack or purposefully threaten the redhead.
Something about the doctor felt suffocatingly mutual, as if the brunet understood him more than they expressed. But it’s only been a day, so it’s hard to tell just yet. Chuuya’s gained the ability over the years to read people more easily than others just by observing them so often. Even before coming to this place, before his sister passed.
It was like a second nature that carried through his foggy memory and defenses.
And Dazai… He had walls up, as clear as day. The redhead had been able to crumble a few down yesterday just by a sheer act of fragile trust. But there were so many, especially when he looked in his eyes like he wanted to get Chuuya out of here.
That itself broke something inside him, because what kind of doctor comes and meets their patient, then immediately wants to help them out of the mental hospital when he was that distrusting the first time they interacted? It wasn’t normal, at least it didn’t feel normal to Chuuya.
He looked up at the brunet. The man had looked away at something else now, as if he’d noticed how deep in thought he was and was letting him process everything in his head before the next question. There was just something thoughtful in every action he took around the redhead, something that no doctor decided he was deserving of.
People usually looked at him like a monster.
Not… A human, not how Dazai sees him. It was comforting in a sense of keeping him somewhat present in time around the doctor.
The moment he saw him come through that door was the same as any other, that was, until he crouched down and actually genuinely attempted to gain his trust. Gave him patience and trust that he didn’t even know existed in this cruel space that he had to call “home.”
Chuuya looked over to the same space that Dazai had been looking at for the last few minutes, and he wondered what the other man was thinking right now. Maybe he was thinking of similar things to him, the redhead felt something twist in his stomach at the thought. Something that had been long forgotten years ago.
—
The day passed much faster than usual, but that could be because he was allowed out of his room under watch.
The redhead had been zoning out as usual when the door to his room opened once again. He thought that it was already his evening session, but it was only one in the afternoon. His eyes followed the brunet’s figure; Dazai crouched down in front of him. Eye to eye, he spoke to him, not afraid of the possibility of him lashing out.
“I’ve had clearance to bring you to the garden.” The redhead just sat and stared at his doctor with tension in his shoulders. It quickly earned a breathy laugh from the other man, and a gloved hand was carefully placed on his arm, urging him to get up. He did, because he wanted to.
Chuuya stayed quiet while he was led out of the room he hadn’t left in over 6 months, staring absent-mindedly at the brown-haired man in front of him. Lips pressed into a thin line when he saw other doctors staring at them. This was because of his good behavior, yet people still looked at him with fear.
He felt uncomfortable with the stares, like he was smaller than he actually was. But before his thoughts could spiral any further than they were, his hand was pulled into a gloved hand, and he was gently pulled toward the gardens. Only a few words were spoken by Dazai to his coworkers before he walked away with him.
The last he remembered leaving his room, the doctor who led him around hurried as fast as she could - like she wanted nothing to do with him at all.
Dazai, however, just strolled along hand in hand with him. He kept the redhead at his side and just greeted whoever he knew that passed by; this was different than what he was used to. But it was a welcome change.
When they finally left the building, leaving the confused and startled stares behind, the garden's air was fresh, and he realized that it was cold.
His steps paused on the path, a shiver running through his shoulders. It must be mid-October by now, since it’s been just over six months since he was admitted. His brows furrowed, but they unfurrowed when he looked at the flowers; some were still in bloom, others were wilting as winter approached.
Chuuya turned his head toward his doctor, hand still securely in place. The shock must’ve still been on his expression, because Dazai laughed, genuinely laughed. It’s like being away from prying eyes and cameras, let him be himself.
A low sound came from Chuuya’s mouth as if he had tried to speak, but then he pressed his lips into a thin line. His head looked down at the ground, and he looked up when he felt a squeeze on his hand and a tug.
He watched Dazai’s side profile while he was being tugged toward a corner in the garden; there were flowers everywhere he looked. A fountain in the center surrounded by flowers with coins at the bottom. His senses were overloaded with sounds and smells all at once: the low hum of the water from the fountain, the distant chirping of birds, and the low motor of cars on the nearby street.
It all felt so real, so abnormal to what he’d made himself accustomed to over the last few months. He found himself liking it versus the silence of his room, though.
He crouched down when Dazai stopped in front of a particular set of flowers; there were white Camellias. A foggy memory appeared in his mind; apparently, his favorite flowers were red camellias. He recalled his sister bringing him some every year for his birthday since he was born.
He hasn’t received any in two years.
“...” Something akin to a sigh left his throat, his free hand going over and tracing the petals of one, before a voice broke him out of his thoughts again.
“They signify purity and good luck, you know. I found it ironic how these kinds of flowers grow every year.” He pulled his hands away, picking one of them and turning toward the smaller man. Tucking its stem carefully behind his ear, brushing some of his hair away as well.
“It suits you.” He hooked his finger around his ear, taking off his face mask. Breathing in the fresh air, Chuuya found himself staring. For some reason, he’d expected the doctor to look much older, like the rest of the doctors. Yet, he looked early twenties, just like him…
He fully expected a bearded, maybe a forty-year-old man who dyed his hair so he wouldn’t go gray at his ripe age.
That wasn’t the case at all, and that long-gone feeling appeared in his stomach again; his lips were parted slightly, expression a mix of multiple emotions, all while he stared at his doctor like he’d just personally put pin needles in his arms. But Dazai didn’t mistake it for disdain or anger. The atmosphere felt too calm to be anything else.
“Hmn,” The brunet tilted his head, amused. Hazel eyes glinting even brighter than usual now that his mask and the hospital lighting weren’t dulling it. “What? Didn’t expect me to look so young?”
No, Chuuya didn’t, but he wasn’t going to let that show. So he shook his head, a soft flush of embarrassment(?) appearing on his cheeks.
“Aww.” He teased him lightly, lightening the mood. The world felt lighter like this, like the world didn’t rest on their shoulders, all while dealing with their personal issues. The background noise drowned out the tension enough to breathe easily.
“M’nh!” Chuuya growled out the sound, crossing his arms and looking away. He heard a laugh from behind him, but only side-eyed the direction and looked away again, closing his eyes again. He couldn’t hide the small smile that cracked at his lips despite himself.
“Chuuyaa! Don’t be mad at me, I was only teasing you!” Chuuya honestly couldn’t believe this was his reality. His doctor was whining like a child all because his patient crossed his arms and turned away from him.
He found it endearing, that’s the word he would use, at least.
“..’hut up.” He sat rigid the moment he heard the words come out of his mouth, turning back to his doctor, a hand covering his mouth in a brief moment of disbelief. He didn’t even think about it - he just sort of said it. Even if his words were slightly slurred and groggy from lack of use.
Dazai looked just as shocked, but his expression quickly melted into something akin to being proud. “That’s a great start, I- You’re progressing even faster than I thought…”
He took the hand into his that was covering his mouth, gently running his thumb over the multitude of healed scars that were on the back of his hand. How wasn’t this doctor at all bothered by his presence or attitude? It was miraculous to Chuuya; he couldn’t wrap his mind around it. His whole world had been flipped upside down 2 years ago, and it felt like it was being flipped back over slowly when he was with this man. This doctor, his doctor.
The ginger’s expression shifted again, looking down at their hands, then to the brunet who was holding his hand so delicately. It was a grounding pressure, one that kept him on earth and didn’t let him drift into his own realm like he usually did.
He turned his head when the sound of heels clicking interrupted the atmosphere around them. Dazai didn’t need to; he knew who it was already. “Hm, Akiko. What are you doing here? I thought I told you that you’d get to meet him after we left the garden.”
Chuuya only looked between the brunet and the violaceous-haired woman, Akiko, apparently, on a first-name basis, maybe? Probably his wife or something similar.
“Come on, Osamu, you know me better than that! I couldn’t wait to meet your patient properly!” She looked nice enough, although Chuuya found himself not trusting her quite yet. Even if Dazai knew her, he couldn’t trust just anyone after he found one doctor who wasn’t shitty.
The brunet clearly noticed his discomfort and held his hand a bit tighter than before, settling it on his thigh. “Yeah, I know. But he’s still getting used to people.” Yosano let out a sigh at that, responding in a tone that sounded disappointed, “I know, I know. I won’t get too close to him.”
She approached slowly, crouching down onto one knee a good distance away from the pair. “I’m Yosano Akiko, one of Dazai’s close friends here at the hospital. I work with medicines at the clinic here.”
She had a kind smile on her face, something flicking in his vision with Kouyou in Yosano’s place, before he shook his head and screwed his eyes shut for a moment. Opening them again a moment later, Yosano was still there.
“...S..” He paused, not used to hearing his own voice. The woman’s eyes softened, and she waved her hand, dismissing his apology. So she could also understand him somewhat despite himself.
“Don’t worry about speaking, Dazai’s told me that you’re still working on your speech.” That eased some of his worries, sitting up a bit straighter now. He hadn’t even realized that he’d started leaning on the doctor.
“..Mhn…” Chuuya didn’t make eye contact, but he nodded and glanced over at his doctor. Catching the smile that was on his lips right before he schooled his expression. He narrowed his eyes and reached up with his left hand and flicked his forehead. Watching the man start whining about it was more pleasurable than he anticipated.
“Chuuya! You’re so cruel to me.. Why would you do that?” He had a pouty expression on his face, but the amused curl of his lips gave away how he really felt. Yosano was having the time of her life watching them tease and poke at each other.
“Oh, you two are as cute as I imagined!” Her lips curled into a grin, Dazai flushed, and Chuuya couldn’t help but pull back from the poke attack he was giving his doctor, and stare at the other doctor.
“...H’ah?” His head tilted, confused, oblivious to what the woman was implying. She only waved it off and once again teased her apparent friend(?) He really wasn’t sure what the two doctors were. Yosano had introduced them as friends, so that meant she wasn’t the brunet’s wife.
He was also confused as to why his heart felt better knowing that fact.
“..I..” Dazai paused his words to take a deep breath, heart still pounding to the point he was sure the redhead could hear it. “..Ignore her, Chuuya. She’s playing a game she shouldn’t be playing.” That didn’t answer many of his questions, but he blinked and nodded regardless. Finding himself enjoying the distraction of Dazai and Yosano picking at each other, a pleasant distraction to the storm in his mind.
Something about how they acted together reminded Chuuya so much of him and his sister; his left hand went up and subconsciously pressed over his heart. He looked up and squinted when the sun glared into his eyes. He hoped his sister was okay up there, wherever she was.
He looked back down when some stray strands of his auburn hair were tucked behind his right ear, looking solemnly over at his doctor. He’s had plenty of time to deal with his grief, yet the accident is still fresh in his mind.
He goes to sleep, and the same images flood his mind each time, a memory. When he was happy living with his sister, when she was okay, when he was fine. It hurt him to think about when he was free, when he didn’t have the restraints of being locked up like a dog that bit someone when protecting itself.
He’d only visited her grave a handful of times; he could count that number on one hand.
Maybe once he finally got out of here, he could go visit her. Chuuya could only hope that she wasn’t disappointed with how he turned out after she passed. His thoughts had spiraled out of control, and he hurt people close to him. He deserved to be put in this place; it was for the best.
Before he could think about anything else, he was pulled out of his thoughts by someone calling his name and a warmth pulling him in. When he blinked back to reality, he was facing Dazai’s chest. His arms wrapped securely around him, he almost asked why the brunet was hugging him, but then he felt the distinct feeling of tears falling down his chin.
Yosano was also closer; he could feel her presence behind him. But he could honestly care less, he hasn’t had a hug in.. He can’t even remember; it’s been that long. A sense of longing and comfort washed over him all at once.
“..I-I... mis’ he’r…” his voice broke mid sentence, so he decided to just bury his face in the doctor's chest, sinking into the gentle rubbing on his back. The whispered assurances calmed him down more than he expected; it’s like Dazai knew that he was dealing with a lot of overwhelming grief at once.
Like he knew his world ended on that day in April. Because it really did end, Kouyou was his world; he appreciated his friends, sure. But she was the one person he thought of as family, and she was so cruelly taken away from him. He was bound to lose his mind trying to cope eventually.
“It’s not your fault,” Dazai whispered the words into his ear, a hand brushing through his hair, while the other rubbed his back. Chuuya doesn’t think he’s had such comfort in years; he can’t remember much from before the accident right now. But he knows that his sister comforted him like this at least once before, and that hurt more than it should’ve.
—-
It was around two-thirty when the three had to go back into the hospital. Dazai had to pry the smaller man off of him so that they could walk. Yosano stayed closely behind them while Chuuya wiped one of his eyes with his right hand, while the other was occupied by Dazai, leading him. He trusted him enough to zone out; he knew that the doctor wouldn’t hurt him. He’s proved himself enough in the last 36 hours, 31 minutes, and 47 seconds.
Instead of the door to his room, he noticed that they were in a nice bathroom. Yosano stayed outside, but he turned his head to Dazai in confusion. He only got a grin in response; he hadn’t even realized that the brunet had put on his face mask again.
“You’re getting a bath, patients are supposed to get an hour of the garden and a shower each day. Because of your sudden improvement, you’re able to now. I’m your guide and caretaker of sorts as well as your therapist.”
Chuuya blinked in momentary confusion, taking another look around the bathroom, which had a couple of showers and multiple sinks, and toilet stalls and a closet tucked in the corner. The walls were mostly white, but they had different shades of beige and gray, adding a sort of contrast compared to the usual white on white.
“C’mon, there are stools in each shower and product as well. I’ll grab you a change of clothes and a towel from the closet. Let me know if you need any help washing your hair.” The doctor smiled, visible through his mask, while he urged the redhead toward the shower and went to grab the items from the closet.
Chuuya did as requested, going over to the shower and turning it on. Watching as the water began to flow down and into the drain, he took off his white attire and got inside once it was heated enough to not burn his skin, but not cold enough to make him freeze, and closed the curtain.
He let his auburn curls get soaked by the heated flow of water, letting out a sigh, and pulled his arms around himself. Turning his head when he heard things being set outside the shower, muffled words that sounded something like “I’ll be outside,” then the door opening and closing.
Chuuya blinked, but then he got to work on scrubbing himself down. He didn’t want to spiral alone in his thoughts for very long in here, as nice as the water pressure was.
—
He opened the bathroom door a couple of minutes later, and both Dazai and Yosano were talking idly. Yosano saw him first, and her eyes softened upon seeing him. Dazai turned his head next, he was the first to speak. “You look different when you’re clean.”
Chuuya seemed confused about what they meant for a moment, but the brunet elaborated before he could overthink it.
“Your hair is brighter, I mean.” The redhead took the longer pieces of hair into his hand and realized they were right. It had more of a darker shade before; it was more vibrant now.
“...’h..” Chuuya pressed his lips into a thin line, looking back up at the doctor. He was hungry, he noticed, there was that familiar feeling that felt like his stomach was eating itself when he hadn’t eaten anything.
“Come on, let’s get you back to your room. I got you more crackers to eat.” Dazai offered his hand, and Chuuya took it without complaint. Only a singular second of hesitation when he stepped forward to grab it, then they were off after Dazai said goodbye to Yosano.
The walk was silent, only interrupted by doctors walking by and their quiet breathing. Before Chuuya knew it, he was back in front of his room. He swallowed, looking up as the doctor unlocked the door and opened it with his authorization card.
When it opened, Chuuya immediately noticed the lack of trash and everything that had accumulated on the floor over time. There was a small seating area on the left of his bed for their morning sessions, and even what looked like a better bed frame and a few blankets.
As promised, there were more crackers and more juice boxes on a small table on the right side of his bed. He couldn’t help but take a step forward to confirm that what he was seeing was real.
He looked back at the doctor in disbelief and confusion; his eyes screamed, “You did all this?” As he got further in the room, he noticed a couple of books and a few card games. Dazai had to have pulled some strings for this; there’s just no way he managed to organize all of this while they were outside in the garden.
“Surprise, Chuuya.” His eyes crinkled, and he approached as well. Placing a comforting pat on his head, ruffling his damp hair, and then pulling it away.
The redhead looked up at him, his shock fading into an ever-present frown, then he turned and punched the brunet’s arm. Not enough to hurt badly, just to prove a point. Basically, communicating that he most definitely did not have to pull this many strings to make him more comfortable.
“Ow- Ow- I get it, I wanted to, though. You’ve zoned out enough. I had to somehow get you some sort of entertainment..” Dazai frowned and rubbed his left arm with his hand; it didn’t hurt that much. He’s been hit much harder before, but he also liked being this easygoing and having this banter with the redhead.
Chuuya only crossed his arms in response, strolling over to his bed and grabbing the crackers from the table next to him, opening them and eating one of them. Dazai laughed, getting the memo, enough social time for the time being. They had their evening session in a couple of hours, so he’d see him then.
His eyes softened a bit, “I’ll see you in a couple of hours. I’ll be around if you need anything.” The man only shooed him and ate another cracker, comfortable already. It was cute, he had to admit it this once.
“Okay, Okay. See you later.” He stepped out of the room, closing and locking the door.
That went well, really well. Chuuya’s speech improved, and now he has entertainment, food, and he’s clean. The only things that should be bothering him now are the hospital and his memories.
He couldn’t help but wonder about this sister of his; maybe there was something out there about her.
He started walking toward his office. Chuuya would be fine for now, he hoped he would be at least. That sudden burst of emotions in the garden was startling. I mean, the redhead randomly zoned out again, and then he was crying. He must’ve been thinking about her; that was the only reason he could think of. No one has seen him show any emotions other than anger before, so even the redhead being able to leave his room now is confusing to the other doctors.
He’d find something out, he’s sure. Maybe it would help him understand his mindset about the woman better than the little information he was given.