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A step, then two, then three and by the time he reaches Atsushi, his brain has turned into a static of buzzing noise piercing his skull from inside out. He ignores Kunikida shouting out orders through his phone to have Yosano brought back from Fukuoka as fast as possible, he doesn’t pay any mind to the tears rolling down Kyouka’s cheeks or the uncharacteristic gloom settling into Kenji’s features. Tanizaki, too, barely being able to stay coherent while he phones the ambulance and specifies the address and urgency of the situation.
Dazai does not give a damn about anyone or anything beside Atsushi who is currently writhing on the ground, squirming with pain as the blood gushes out from the wound on his head in a steady stream. It should have healed long ago. The tiger, by now, should have regenerated the skin like it was never harmed in the first place, like it has been doing all this time. There is something wrong with Atsushi’s ability, something which Dazai doesn’t know and he has no time to figure out what because Atsushi is losing blood rapidly and there is no telling when he loses his consciousness as well only to never wake up again.
Fuck, he hates himself, he loathes himself, he despises himself; what use is his extraordinary brain if it can’t help the one person he desperately wants to save and protect. What use is his stupid fucking ability when he can’t even wipe the blood off of Atsushi’s face and cradle his body in his arms for fear his touch may nullify whatever healing the tiger may still provide him. Dazai is absolutely useless, worthless—
“Da–Dazai…an.”
He jolts.
“Dazai-san,” Atsushi gasps out his name, stretching his hand towards him weakly.
Dazai doesn’t take the offered limb but he kneels down beside the bleeding boy with a calmness he doesn’t actually feel, answering, “Yes, Atsushi-kun.”
“Dazai-s..an.”
“Yeah.”
“Dazai-san.”
“What is it?” He hums, not glancing once towards the red surrounding Atsushi, not looking anywhere away from the sunset in his eyes, bright, even now. “I didn’t know you liked my name that much, Atsushi-kun.”
The boy chuckles, albeit weak but alive, still very much breathing and Dazai will make sure he keeps doing so. He doesn’t know how but he will figure out.
Once they admit Atsushi in the hospital and deem him safe and away from death’s claws, Dazai is going to find the ones who put Atsushi in such a state, break every single bone in their body, crush it to bits and piece back their disfigured scum of a shell just to break it all over again. He will start easier; he will take their arm first, put their hand in his, make sure they remember what warmth feels like for one last time before he twists and bends their fingers into unrecoverable positions and then chip away their nails by a plier, one by one, agonisingly slow and take pleasure in their screams and cries.
Oh, Dazai is going to ruin them for the rest of their life, if they even manage to come out alive after his special treatment ‘cause for sure they are not coming out sane and that, he guarantees, is not a matter of if but simply when.
A wounded sound wrenches out from Atsushi’s throat and Dazai barely catches himself from touching him, his hand hovering uselessly above his lithe body while his fingers twitch from the need to hold him. Atsushi takes it then, clutches onto his hand and grips onto his trenchcoat when Dazai begins to move back, his dread of harming Atsushi weighing more than the longing thrashing his ribs and chest.
“No,” he begins, peeling off Atsushi’s hands from him. “Don’t, Atsushi-kun. Don’t touch me.”
Atsushi lets out a sound again, it’s less painful and more sad, wordlessly demanding for Dazai to stay near him. His hands hold Dazai firmer and tighter, pulling him closer even when he drifts away from Dazai with every laboured breath and eyes lidding shut more and more with each second that passes.
It is so awfully reminiscent of a memory long ago, of a dear friend lost long ago, Dazai has to swallow down the bile rising up in his throat when his vision blurs and he sees brown strands and teal eyes instead of the angelic silver of Atsushi’s hairs and his purple-gold pupils.
“I am nullifying your ability, Atsushi-kun,” he reminds him when Atsushi refuses to loosen his grasp and Dazai lets him, weak, always weak when it comes to the boy’s rare demands.
“It isn’t working anyways, Dazai-san,” Atsushi rasps, his tone chiding like Dazai has said something silly.
“What if it does? What if it is trying to work but we won’t ever know because you, for some reason, won’t stop holding onto me?” He hisses, helplessness clinging onto his tongue and muscles. “If you need someone to hold your hand then Kyouka and Kenji are right here. I am sure even Kunikida-kun won’t mind holding your hand right now, Atsushi-kun. So stop, okay. Stop.”
His command falls onto deaf ears. Atsushi, always a good subordinate, always aligning to his orders without a doubt chooses now to be a rebel. “We need you to heal and get better and not sabotage yourself because you adore me too much.”
Atsushi doesn’t roll his eyes at him like he normally would have. He doesn’t give Dazai an exasperated look, the one with which he manages to shut Dazai up for the next hour. Atsushi does nothing but stare at him; just looks at Dazai without blinking as if trying to burn the outline of his face and features onto the back of his eyelids.
“Atsu–”
(Dazai… There’s something I want to say to you.)
“Dazai-san,” Atsushi cuts him off gently. “There’s something I want to tell you.”
“No!” He shakes his head, suppressing the whispers haunting his ears. “Don’t. You are going to make it, Atsushi-kun. Did you hear me? You are going to be fine so tell me once you are better.”
(Listen.)
Atsushi squeezes his hand, loosens his grip onto his coat to cup Dazai’s cheek instead, caresses his skin gently there, murmuring, “Listen, please.”
Dazai leans into Atsushi’s touch, nuzzling a little and despite every single cell screaming in his body to run and get away, he stays right beside Atsushi and allows the boy to do whatever he wishes.
(You told me that you might find a reason to live if you lived in a world of violence and bloodshed.)
Atsushi gives him a smile, triumphant and tender and trembling. “You told me you don’t find any meaning in living when I asked you why it is that you wish to die.”
“I did,” Dazai says. “What I say doesn’t matter, Atsushi-kun. I always speak rubbish, you know me well, it doesn’t matter.”
“It matters,” Atsushi corrects him. “Y..You matter, Dazai-san.”
He shudders. “Stop talking, Atsushi-kun,” he whispers, nearly pleading. “Save your energy,” Dazai requests.
(You won’t find it.)
“You will find it,” Atsushi says, oh-so-sure, conviction lacing heavy in his voice.
Dazai shudders again, he puts his hands over Atsushi’s, intertwining their fingers.
(You must know that already. Whether you’re on the side who kills people or the side who saves people, nothing beyond what you would expect will appear.)
“You may not know it,” he continues, his breath growing shallower and Dazai’s fear of losing him deeper. “But something might happen that even you can’t ever expect, Dazai-san. Someone might come who will make your life worth some meaning, give you a purpose, a reason to keep going.”
“You…” It’s you, Dazai wants to say. It can only ever be you.
(Nothing in this world can fill that lonely hole you have. You will wander the darkness for eternity.)
“You aren’t as lonely as you think,” Atsushi reminds him softly. “And you think too much, Dazai-san. Don’t lose yourself to your head. You are going to find your path, sooner or later.”
“Atsushi-kun,” he chokes out. “Shut up,” he gasps, his eyes stinging. And ever unable to stay true to his words, Dazai asks next, “What will I do without you?”
He can’t lose Atsushi. He can’t lose him like he lost Odasaku all those years ago. There is no path, no light, no sun, no moon, no nothing in Dazai’s life without Atsushi. Dazai is nothing without Atsushi. Doesn’t this boy know it isn’t just his life which is at stake right now, that it is Dazai’s too?
(Be on the side that saves people. If both sides are the same, become a good man. Save the weak, and protect the orphans.)
Atsushi lifts their linked hands to pat Dazai’s chest, right over his heart, “You are a good man, Dazai-san. You saved me that day, protected me and this city, again and again.”
No one will agree with Atsushi. There is no one else who has this much faith in Dazai and belief in him being good. And Dazai knows he is not a good man. He may have changed sides but that doesn’t erase his past, the darkness mingled in his blood is far thicker than the water it is composed of. Atsushi is not blind to the shadows around Dazai’s disconcerting presence, nor is he disregarding them, he just chooses to believe that Dazai will do good, will side by the right.
Dazai is not built to break a heart when his own is made of glass so he doesn’t correct Atsushi; simply and quite unlike himself, he trusts Atsushi’s trust in him and tries, really tries to be good.
Giving a tremulous smile, beautiful, despite the blood painting his figure and alive, despite being on the brink of death, Atsushi manages to take away Dazai’s breath with just a simple action, saying, “Keep doing so and you are going to be fine.”
“How can you say that?" Dazai growls, mad and scared, his body shaking with the emptiness threatening to overtake his life every time Atsushi shuts his eyes, voiding Dazai from the sunset in them.
“You made my life meaningful, gave me a purpose. Because of you, I was able to know so many amazing people. Thank you,” he says, tears rolling out from the side of his eyes. “Thank you,” he says again, quivering, “for finding your way to me, Dazai-san.”
“I am going to have Tanizaki-kun tape up your mouth now. You have been awfully disobedient today, Atsushi-kun. I will also ask Kunikida-kun to double your paperwork, finish up all my reports along with yours. That will show you.”
“Like you don’t do it already.”
Dazai feigns a gasp, anything to subside his tears and make the smile on Atsushi’s face last longer. “I am hurt, Atsushi-kun.”
“I am hurt, Dazai-san.”
“Exactly. So stay quiet.”
“No… I have to say it.” Dazai opens his mouth to deny him but Atsushi squeezes his hand, adding, “Please.” There is little, if anything, Dazai can refuse Atsushi when he looks at him like that so he keeps his mouth shut.
(Neither good nor evil means much to you, I know… but that’d make you at least a little bit better.)
“Your actions make a difference. Whatever you choose to do, remember it is important. Just stay true to what you have chosen, Dazai-san. You are doing good.”
“How do you know that for sure?”
(Of course I know. I know better than anyone. Because… I am your friend.)
He laughs, small but full, charming like a bird’s sweet singing. “How can I not know? I know better than anyone. Because…” Atsushi’s head lulls sideways, his hands slacken in Dazai’s grip, his words lose themselves in thin air along with his consciousness.
Dazai freezes, he is numb and he could barely move his thumb to Atsushi’s nerves. Only when he hears the dull thud thud thud of Atsushi’s still working heart, does Dazai allow himself to take in a breath.
Tanizaki kneels opposite him, gesturing to the siren of the ambulance about to reach them. Kunikida sits beside Dazai, placing a hand on his shoulder, he informs, “Yosano-san will arrive straight to the hospital. Atsushi is going to be okay.”
He must be visibly distraught if even Kunikida is being purposefully gentle with his tone. Huffing a mirthless laugh, Dazai plays along, “Of course. It is Atsushi-kun, after all.”
Atsushi is fine, breathing generously, hooked onto machines and wires but he is stable and far, far away from any danger in his life. He is yet to wake up, yet to flutter-open his eyes and bring back the sun into Dazai’s sky. According to Yosano, it may take him a few days to awaken his consciousness since the damage done to his head was quite deep but it is fine, Dazai has long learned how to be patient for things that truly matter.
Dazai gazes at Atsushi’s bandaged head, some pesky wounds and scratches on the rest of his body. There are questions to be answered, like who was the one to harm Atsushi this badly, why was his ability not working, what was the purpose of this act, and many more.
Dazai will answer them all, find the ones who were responsible for hurting this kind boy but for now, for just a moment longer, he rests and allows the awakened grief to fall in slumber again.
“Finish what you had to say, Atsushi-kun. I am here waiting for you. Take your time.”