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chuuya was panicking.
mori's tone, to him, sounded like he was awaiting punishment the next day even though he most likely wasn't.
but there was still a chance. a chance that led chuuya to be curled up in the middle of his bed with a weighted blanket to try and mimic something (whatever that was!) and his hair, still dirty from his mission earlier, somewhat in his face, and his nails sctraching his wrists and upper arms.
he wanted dazai. dazai made everything better. he could function without dazai, but dazai felt like an anchor at times like these. their ability could cancel his and make him defenseless, but he trusted them enough to know they wouldn't leave him like that.
somewhere between chuuya's muffled gasps and sobs, he had grabbed his phone and fumbled with it a moment until he was calling dazai.
ring. ring. ring.
why wasn't he answering?
why wasn't he answering?
"dazai-kun is gone, chuuya-kun."
...
he was wrong wasn't he.
sorry the number yo--
chuuya ended the call. he would deal with this himself, he supposed. no matter how bad it ended on his behalf.
if he had bandages peeking out through his dress shirt, that was between him and mori's all-knowing-eyes.