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Dazai didn't like pain. Most people aren't really a fan of pain, but there's a difference between a general dislike of pain and the bone chilling, gut wrenching, terrifying, awe inspiring hatred of pain that Dazai held.
This was very unfortunate for Dazai because his life seemed to be absolutely full of pain; from his first breath its been an endless cycle of pain and suffering with no meaning or value whatsoever. The only difference in the pain inflicted upon him has been the person delivering this pain and their preferred method of transport.
From his early years that were full of silent anger, disappointment, and the ache of an empty stomach; to his time in the mafia under Mori's diligent 'care'; to the ADA, where he's the main cause of his pain.
He liked it better when he caused his own pain. It seems counterproductive for a person who hates pain to actively hurt themselves, but it made perfect sense to Dazai: when a person becomes the main cause of your suffering, they also become your master, they take away all control you have of your body, your mind, your actions, and they force their will onto you. Despite how awful it is to be in pain, when you've been in pain most of your life, the moment that you're suddenly fine, you feel like there's something missing from you.
So, Dazai, never wanting to give control to someone else again, just took matters into his own hands. It was his affirmation that he's in control of his body, that he's free from the will of others, that he's human.
It helps. It's good. It's healthy, even. But no one seems to understand that. Ironically, the only person who understood his need to hurt was Mori— the very person who made him need to in the first place. After all, Mori was the one who taught him the best ways to hurt himself. Mori gave him the drugs, the blades, Mori showed him the best places to cut, how deep to cut, how to clean them up afterwards, how to make cleaning them hurt too.
Unfortunately, Mori did a lot more than that too— No, that doesn't matter. Its best not to dwell on the past.
Nobody understands that it helps. Pain isn't nice, he doesn't deserve it, but he needs it. All anyone ever wants him to do is stop, but he's tried. He's tried and all it did was make the constant prayer for death in the back of his head get louder and louder until he had no other options but to kill himself.
And that never seems to work out for him.
Tonight's no different. Just like most nights, he feels the insects crawling beneath his skin towards the area that he needs to hurt the most; his forearms, his hips, and his chest are the focus tonight. The tingling sensation doesn't abide by being ignored, it's relentless in its demands to make Dazai feel pain— feel better.
Normally, he'd simply follow the feelings orders, but tonight he's tired, he doesn't want to hurt. Chuuya's set to be home later on tonight and Dazai just— he doesn't want to see that look of disappointment mixed with pity on his face. He just wants his chibi to come home and make it all go away like he always manages to do. Tonight, he doesn't want to see red blood in the places the bugs are telling him to hurt; tonight, he wants Chuuya to hold him tight and make it better. He wants to feel Chuuya's hands pass over his arms, his hips, and his chest, and take the ache away.
The longer Dazai sits, curled up on the couch like a dejected dog waiting for its master to come back (though he'd never let the slug know he'd said that), the harder it is to breathe. He can feel his strength wavering as the voices in his head getting louder and louder. They're all he can hear anymore.
Looking to the clock for guidance, the time helps to reassure him he'll make it. 1:30. Just 30 more minutes until he's back, then everything will be okay. Chuuya will make it all go away.
***
It's 2:00 am when Chuuya finally makes it through the door, exhausted and pissed off from work, and plagued by a terrible feeling that something was wrong. It got so bad he considered leaving work early, but he decided to stick it out, figuring whatever it was could wait, not wanting to get chewed out for ditching again.
In retrospect, he probably should've followed his gut and gone home early. It's never good leaving Dazai alone for too long, especially not when he gets like this.
Not many people are able to read Dazai as well as Chuuya, and even fewer have Dazai's best interests at heart when they do. But Chuuya knows, he knows when Dazai's about to enter another episode, he knows the signs. He better know by now considering how many years they've been partners— in every sense of the word.
So, Chuuya already knew that Dazai was about to drop again and he knew that it was going to be bad, but stupidly, Chuuya ignored his gut and let his mind fill with bullshit comforting words and ideas.
I'll feel better once I see him, Chuuya thinks as he trudges his way to the front door of their shared home.
Opening the door and taking off his shoes, he slowly makes his way down the hallway that leads to the living room.
"Dazai," he calls to no answer.
"Dazai," he calls a little louder, rounding the corner into the living room.
The sight he's met with in the living room smooths his fears and breaks his heart in two, just like it does every single time. Because there's Dazai, sitting listlessly on the couch looking afraid, pained, and completely blank. Not even looking up to see who's in the house, deafened by his own mind.
Dazai's absently clutching at his arms as Chuuya slowly walks towards him. No blood, Chuuya thinks, thank god. Chuuya slowly kneels down in front of Dazai as to not startle him too much as he breaks him out of this spell. Gently, he puts one hand on his partners knee and the other one up to cup his cheek. Immediately feeling the soothing sensation of No Longer Human wash over him.
"Hey, Dazai," Chuuya whispers, and Dazai's eyes finally focus on Chuuya's face, "I'm here."
"Chibi," Dazai mumbles almost like a question as his fingers move to softly trace the shape of Chuuya's face, then moving down to play with a lock of red hair.
"Yeah, Mackerel, it's me."
No words really need to be spoken for them to know what happens next. They've done this routine a thousand times now. All that Chuuya does is move his other hand up to Dazai's face too, pulling it down to kiss his forehead before resting both of their heads together.
"Thank you for waiting, mackerel," Chuuya whispers into the air between them, "you did great."
"You know how to make it stop."
And that breaks Chuuya's heart just a little bit more, because Dazai trusts him enough to tell him something as vulnerable as that.
"Come on, let's get you to bed."
They go to bed with Dazai held tight in Chuuya's arms, safe with the knowledge that, at least for tonight, everything will be okay.