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"If you want to die, do it after we're done here, I don't want to have to drag your damn body back to the base." They were back to back, not left with much space in the walking path with formal clothed men approaching from both sides. "I'd rather not have you touch me, I don't want my last moments to be ruined." Chuuya rolled his eyes, scoffing at the other boy's words. "Whatever, I don't need you messing up my clothes anyways. Now, focus." "I think you should take your own advice." A smirk came onto Dazai's lips, pushing into Chuuya before striding forward to attack his enemies.
God, he hated him. Chuuya loathed that boy, he really did. He caught himself on his right foot, quickly turning and lifting his left leg to hit the man before him, hitting the side of his rib. There was an incredible strength to it, so much so the man choked blood out of his mouth. Why must he always be so damn annoying? The ginger was managing to take on the men with no trouble, brows furrowed as he dwelled on his anger towards the executive.
Dazai was enjoying himself, only a tad bit of course. He was getting along fine, he was no martial artist, but he had his tactics, and sometimes... they get a bit out of hand. Grabbing onto a man's wrist pulling him down and shoving his knee into his stomach, he swipes the blade in the victim's hand, turning it, holding it and then slashing through the blinded man's neck. After followed by a stab into the abdomen of the man behind him, dragging down the blade and letting his stomach lay open. Leaving it at that as he allowed the man a slow useless death. Osamu glanced at the hooded boy, watching him fight. He could tell he had really hit a nerve beforehand, but it seemed like Chuuya was getting away with a good stress relief session right now.
Thanks to the Executive being so busy admiring his work, he surely wasn't aware of the still bleeding man dragging himself towards him, his back completely defenceless. Reaching for another blade in his pocket, he quickly holds his arm up and is about to slay the man, finally achieving a great accomplishment for their union. But suddenly, he ducked, and the man could feel an intense amount of pain, one so horrible it was numbed almost instantly after it landed. It caused him to fly to the opposite side of the plane, only ensuring his death comes quicker.
"You shouldn't try to hit your senior, Chuuya." Dazai spoke with a smug look as his partner's foot was at his left, hovering above his shoulder. "You're damn lucky I wasn't aiming for you." Dropping his leg, his foot hitting the ground, he tucked his hands into the pockets of his hoodie, looking over to the other with blood splattered on his bandages and dark clothing. The tall teen threw the blade past Chuuya, a gouging sound coming from behind the ginger boy. "I guess we're equal." The Ex-Leader only stared.
"Seems like we're all done. This was a real waste, why must I always babysit you just because you're new?" The boy in grey immediately turned and walked up to Dazai with intent. "Babysit? I'm the one who has to fucking make sure you don't go trying to pull one of your damn suicide fantasies!" Fury burned ablaze in his eyes, but the brown ones that met his looked uninterested. "Who told you to do so?" There was a pause, a moment where he just stared at the taller boy, feeling his eyebrows arch closer to one another. "Excuse me?" "Who told you to do so? I didn't." Chuuya seemed to be on the brink of loosing it, and rightfully so. Until, he stood up straight, staring at Dazai. "Yeah, you're right. You didn't." He began walking forward, and although originally the bandaged man didn't move, his partner began to step so close he had no choice but to begin to step backwards.
Maybe there was a bit of regret within Dazai's heart, but he was mostly curious, curious to see what Chuuya would do. He hadn't just blown up on him, or hit him, he had been speaking in an awfully low voice. "And you know what? I'm sorry." His eyebrows relaxed, but he was still clenching his jaw. Sorry? Now that is a word he didn't expect to hear on this fine day. With each minute he could feel something coming, Dazai knew it was going to happen but it was so exciting anticipating it.
"So please, let me fucking help you die." He reached his arm out to grab Osamu's collar, successfully so, although it was apparent that Dazai could've leaped back before Chuuya's grip had gotten him, and as he felt the boy's tight choking grip, he kind of wished he did. Opening the door of the plane with his other hand, Chuuya stood still in his spot, a moment of eye contact, then he held the coated man outside of the plane, his feet dangling in the air. It was difficult to breathe for Dazai. It's true that he also was an ability user but the gift he had was one that got him into many dangerous situations to do so much as activate it. "Come on now, haven't you got anything left to say?" Dazai's face scrunched, an aggressive yet almost proud stare as he looked up at Chuuya. He couldn't say anything, it was difficult with the tightening on his neck. "No need to get choked up." A cocky grin rested on the ginger's face, one of confidence and pride. It was a smirk fit for a god.
The man opposite of him, the man with no pride nor regard for that around him, merely sputtered out a laugh, the corner of his lip twisting up at the sight of the sapphire eyes that grew frustrated with his antics. "Getting cocky just because you're looking down at me for once?-" Of course he wouldn't simply cower and give in, begging, pleading for safety. If he wanted to let go he could but the executive very well knew he wouldn't. "Shut up." His face cold, the only warmth that lived was the windows his eyes granted the maniac. "You should be grateful," His head cocked to one side, offering up a sure smile, with orbs filled with nothing but delight. "This'll be the last time I'll be looking at you, since you'll be too far down in hell for me to even acknowledge you."
"Ha, you're so stupid." The grip on his neck gets tighter, urging him to continue.
"Don't tell me you think I won't see you there. The only thing that separates us is time, Chuuya." And to that, he couldn't find a retort. It was an unfortunate truth that had left his mouth and was likely one of the rare times he hadn't lied, and one of the times Chuuya couldn't disagree with him. In fact, he agreed, and he hated knowing that. "Then I'll find a way to ensure not even time can intervene." "How passionate of you. I'll look forward to it."
To think a mission would result in this argument. Although, this had become a normality as wild as it is. Neither of them knew how long had passed, nor did either even seem to care much for their positions even if they understood the logistical weight of it. "You are no better than Samael." Venom was laced in his tone, threatening to find its way to pollute the air around them and kill the man before him quicker than the fall would. "Oh wow, you think of me as an angel?" Dazai faked flattery "One that is about to follow in his successors footsteps."
They gazed at one another, the only sound was the wind rushing past the body in the air, dangling off one hand. "Your final words?"
"I always said I wanted to die in a painless way."
"You shouldn't be too greedy."
"Neither should you."
Dazai's arms grasped around Chuuya's slim neck, the leather of his choker pressing up on his skin. The smaller figure clutches to the side of the door, attempting to hold himself still with the added weight. "Attempting to murder your executive? You do know I'm the Boss's right hand man. We wouldn't want you getting into trouble, Leader." The brunette was pulled closer to him, to the point their noses nearly touched. "I don't care what trouble I get into if it means I get to be the one who kills you." There was a spark that glimmered in Dazai's eyes brought out by the entertainment he found himself immersed in. So much so, he might even welcome the idea of being killed.
A hand moves to wrap around the one over his throat, the other body is surprisingly warm for someone like him. "Chuuya," He started. "You may be capable of delaying time, but I'd never allow you the privilege of being free of me." It was getting harder for the mafia member to hold on, not because he was losing his grip, but because he felt his frustration seeping into his mind, having his mind work solely off of his emotions. "So this is how you wanna do this, damn bastard." Letting go of his hold on the metal that had gained den marks, he fully clutched the man's throat with both his hands, feeling his weight elevate down towards him till there was a shift in gravity, a familiar sensation, although still abnormal. He squeezed, strengthening his hold.
Dazai's fingers lingered to his choker, pulling him closer, his eyes seeming to challenge him with a question. Who'd kill him first, the fall, or Chuuya? And the ginger felt insulted; he dared even attempt to pose a threat to him. It seemed like he couldn't even care less about his situation, about how he was near death's door, how it was banging for him. And this is a shocking feeling that, for once, enabled him to understand Osamu. It is not frightening, but a careless feeling almost. A slight awareness exists, but not bothered by it, because it is not something you can avoid, you can change. It is a sensation that follows you like a shadow, haunts you like the ghost of your sins, crawls on your back like your regrets. It is all the wrong but there is no right to be found within it, not living nor death.