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Beep, beep, beep...
What was this? It was too loud... Why couldn't he see or feel anything? Where was he?
The first sense Dazai regained was hearing. The agonizingly high-pitched and loud noises of the heart monitor beside his bed were making him feel nauseous. His poor ears were hurting as if a poisoned knife was piercing through them to get to the brain. Despite this, Dazai was able to focus, surprisingly. Just from those sounds alone, the brunette had quickly figured out where he was: A hospital. It was somewhere he'd never really liked, and didn't need to go to often, which was a relief considering his unwillingness to take off his bandages that he'd change every single day. Dazai had always taken good care of his bandages' hygiene.
Without having to wonder too much about his situation, Dazai felt his eyes beginning to flutter open, mostly against his will.
The second regained sense was the sight. The first thing he saw was the ceiling above, which was so white and bright that Dazai had to take about a minute trying to adjust to it by blinking rapidly. The veins in his eyes felt like they were going to explode any time. A little later, when the moment he could keep them open came, the man realized just how tired he was. Brown eyes having lost their light and dark rings under them made that very clear. His head was spinning. How many days had he been in here? It seemed like his assumptions about being in a hospital room were correct. The heart monitor and the white walls would only lead to one possible place, excluding the Agency's infirmary and Mori's underground clinic. Dazai had wished he wouldn't be coming back to the hospital again after getting shot by an assassin Fyodor had hired...
Fyodor...
The third sense Dazai felt was touch. Almost immediately, the tall man felt the lack of bandages around his arms, legs, and torso along with the essence amount of them on his right shoulder and forehead. He was missing his bandages... The hairs on his exposed areas stood erect in discomfort and self-consciousness. One of the downsides of going through an operation or surgery was that you had to be completely nude. The thought alone was hell according to Dazai. The thought of a stranger seeing all over his body along with the scars and marks all over it made him shiver. For all he knew, someone could have informed the psychiatrists about them, and he was sure he'd have to see a doctor about his "issues". That wasn't something Dazai'd like to trouble himself with.
The last sense was taste, followed by smell not so long after. As soon as they came, the bitter tastes of painkillers and antibiotics flowed through Dazai's dry mouth as the sharp smell of plastic gloves and hand sanitizer made their way to the nose, making his mind go blank while trying to process every one of them. Dazai couldn't help but feel like his senses were turning against him, seeing as none of the senses were pleasant. In any case, now he could focus on what had happened before he blacked out. Surely, this wouldn't take too long...
One of the first things he remembered was the Meursault Prison with Dostoevsky, then their oh-so-fun prison break organized by The Clown Nikolai and Sigma the Manager. He'd chosen Sigma to come along with him, having already deduced that the Gravity Manipulator Chuuya Nakahara, also his well-known ex-partner, would be team-working alongside Fyodor as a vampire. Chuuya had shot him, but then how was he alive? More importantly-
-Where was Sigma?
Dazai had promised to get Sigma out alive, and seeing as how he was alive, it only meant that Fyodor had lost, or had hidden away to lick his wounds. Worry surrounded the tall man's heart. There were many questions in his overworked and exhausted mind. He wasn't used to not knowing or predicting everything. Was Sigma okay? Where was that manager? Was he alive?
The brunette would never admit it, but he had felt a connection to Sigma ever since learning about him, as the three-year-old was a mystery he'd like to solve. Sigma's very existence was an insult to common sense, which made Dazai eager to learn all about the long-haired man. Their dance in the Meursault's corridors filled with corpses and blood wasn't all that bad. Sigma had felt so tender and soft against Dazai's body...
…He heard another sound.
Dazai quickly turned his head towards the noise. Beep, beep, beep . It wasn't his heart monitor this time, but someone else's. He could easily say so due to his heartbeats not following the current noise. No, this one was calmer. A lot more collected and somehow calming to hear.
Focusing on the owner of the heart monitor with groggy eyes, Dazai found out who exactly it belonged to. It had a soft ring to it as the brunette's eyes softened and a smile he didn't know he was capable of forming made its way into his soulless expression. The person lying on the bed beside Dazai was none other than the Manager.
Sigma was alive, seemingly in a better shape than Dazai. The hospital gown was showing off his petite and frail physique. There were what seemed to be bandages wrapped around his stomach and a few gauzes on the smaller wounds. Despite these, Sigma's hair had somehow managed to survive all of the chaos back in the prison, as it was shining and perfect like always. Overall, the guy was doing alright. If anything, he seemed rather relaxed, which visibly made Dazai that much calmer as he flopped back down onto the soft sheets of the hospital bed. Slowly beginning to get a better understanding of what was going on, he began listening to the calming noises of Sigma's heart monitor.
Things were... oddly peaceful. The painkillers in his bloodstream were lulling the brunette into the soft hands of sleep. His mind was slowly going blank. Had they won the war against Fukuchi? Were they safe now? Where was the chibi? Atsushi? Akutagawa? Kunikida? Was everyone okay?
The answer was yes, but he hadn't known it then. Dazai's eyes closed against his will, but he did nothing to stop them. Right now, the only thing he craved was some sleep, water, and canned crab.
Odasaku would be so, so proud.