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Dazai ran. He ran so fast that he lost the dog that was chasing him. It was a horrifying sight; the dog wasn't your ordinary canine, no, it had three heads and glowing red eyes that spoke malicious intent—the intent of revenge and pure bloodshed. Teeth stuck out of its three mouths, slobber seeping through them, along with it's own blood. It had battle scars, it had an appetite for scared, pathetic human beings, and Dazai suited that role perfectly.
He was in the forest and ambushed his way to the city. Running so fast that it was hard to maintain his balance. Everything seemed like a blur as he bolted through the empty night streets of Yokohama until he got to his apartment and shut the door. He locked every single lock that he had installed and pushed a nearby table in front of the door.
He scurried his way over to the bathroom, locking the door to it as well and sobbed. He shook in pure fear and agony. The brunette didn't like big dogs, they triggered something in him that he didn't know the cause of.
He sank down to the floor, with his back pressed against the wall, knees pressed against his chest, with his head tucked in between them. His hands grabbed handfuls of his hair and tugged, surely pulling some of it out.
"Dazai, oh, Dazai. It's so nice to have you here..." Mori addressed whilst Dazai laid flat on a table in a surgery room. He could smell the ketamine being poured into a needle. He could hear Mori flick the needle until he was satisfied with the amount—its aesthetic.
He felt Mori breathe in the carbon dioxide Dazai was emitting furiously out of fear, he had no time to breathe in fresh H2O.
"Oh, no, you don't get to move. Stay still, Osamu" If Dazai was in a forest right now, he wasn't the predator. He was the prey. Mori was chasing him down, getting closer to him with each huff of fear Dazai emitted. The jaguar was hungry and was looking for his entree.
"Stop fucking crying, Dazai." Mori was right there in front of him, Dazai was backed into a wall that had shackles and chains. He wasn't the first person to be tied here, but his blood covered the entire wall, layers upon layers of his blood was stained there. His scent was permanent, he was nothing more than a dead rat in the slums of Mori Ougai's basement.
"Dazai, Dazai, Dazai" His name echoed throughout the room. Everything was swirling and collapsed in on itself. The air was heavy and hard to breathe, but light at the same time. He was swimming in syrup, yet, he was at bay. He was picking flowers, but they were wilted and poisonous; emitting toxic fumes.
Even while he was under ketamine, he could still feel Mori slicing into his body in his subconscious. Scalpels of various widths and lengths digging into his skin at different depths. He was nothing more than a dog toy for the wolf to chew up.
Dazai stood up with his trembling legs and made his way to the bathroom sink, tripping on his way there. He straightened his arms on the sink top and stared into the mirror and saw everything.
His face was covered in cuts and his eyes were bloodshot red. His neck was sliced up so bad that you could see the inside of his throat, a scalpel was stuck in there. He saw that his arms were bleeding profusely, his veins splurged open and were sliced to the bone.
He quickly splashed his face with water but everything remained the same.
'No, no, no, no, no'
He opened a drawer, it contained razor blades and a pocket knife. He reached for both and rolled up his sleeve. To him, his arm still looked incredibly bloody. But in reality, it was bone dry (despite being covered in self harm scars.) He pried off his bandages (that also looked bloody to him) and tossed them to the ground. He took the razor blade and started slicing at his skin, slicing at the places where he saw the wounds went deepest.
He cut over and over and over again.
Oda was getting back from going grocery shopping and dropping off sweets for the orphans. He got out his phone to call Dazai to let him know that he was coming over to make dinner. He knew that the brunette struggled with cooking and overall taking care of himself, so whenever he could, he'd tell him he was coming over.
He started calling Dazai but to his surprise, he didn't answer. Normally, Dazai always answers but this time he did not.
He called again.
And again.
And again.
No answer.
This worried Oda so he sped up his walking speed.
He decided to call Dazai one more time.
He answered.
"Dazai? Hello?"
"Dazai?"
"I'm s-sorry..." Dazai murmured quietly and a loud thud occurred. The line hung up.
"Dazai? Dazai!" 'Shit'
Odasaku started running towards Dazai's apartment. He was in fight or flight mode and he chose flight.
After running as if he was in a marathon, he was covered in sweat, and at some point, one of the bags ripped a hole open causing him to lose most of his dinner ingredients.
"I'm going to break in!" Oda yelled and he shot the door lock open. But he was still not able to go in swiftly. He barged his way through the door and was met with the table Dazai had pushed there earlier.
'The hell?'
He immediately sprinted towards the bathroom which was the only room that was closed.
"Dazai!"
"DAZAI."
He wasted no time barging through the door. But he was met with a gory sight and a barely conscious Dazai who was against the wall with the blade in hand.
He ran to his side.
"Dazai, please, stay with me" he lifted up Dazai so that his head rested on his knees.
Morning came around and Dazai woke up on Odasaku's bed. It had a fluffy red blanket and a silky bed sheet. Dazai was holding a black stuffed cat that had sewn in yellow button eyes. The younger was wearing black plaid pajama pants with a dark grey hoodie that was probably Oda's.
He sat up and his arms stung. They stung so bad. He rolled up his sleeves to look at the damage but to his surprise, there were layers upon layers of bandages and stitches on him.
Dazai wanted to speak but he ended up babbling out nonsense, he had woken up regressed.
"Hi Dazai, you're up I see," Oda spoke as he walked into the bedroom.
The younger just stared at him and pulled the covers over his head, he started bawling immediately. He was scared and he had every right to be.
Oda walked towards the edge of the bed and sat there, not wanting to scare the crying Dazai. He then hummed a song that he'd use to calm crying orphans. His wails turned down and he peeked his eyes out from under the covers.
"Hi 'Samu. Can I come closer to you?"
Dazai nodded.
Oda approached him and rubbed circles on his back, he continued to hum the song. Dazai came out from under the blanket and onto the redhead's lap.
"Figured so" he chuckled. "You're really little right now, aren't you?"
The younger hummed in response.
"Can you walk?" he shook his head no.
"That's okay. I thought ahead, so, I took some extra precautions while you were sleeping"
Dazai started sucking on his thumb and curling himself up more into Oda's lap.
"You want some milk?" The little hummed gleefully in response.
He picked the younger up and rested him on his hip, Dazai burying his head into his neck. Oda walked to the kitchen and opened the microwave to get a warm bottle of strawberry milk he had prepared in advance.
He carried him to the living room and set themselves down on the couch. He laid Dazai's head on his lap and gave him the strawberry milk to drink.
He watched as his baby's eyes started to drip, they got heavier and heavier until they closed shut.
When Dazai was deep enough into his slumber, Oda rolled up his sleeves to find that the bandages were now slightly covered in blood. He had to change them frequently to avoid infection and discomfort. But he only changed them when Dazai was sleeping. He didn't want him to freak out and he definitely didn't wanna freak him out when he was regressed to the degree he was now.
Oda slowly lifted Dazai's head off of his lap and put a pillow in his place. He then went to the bathroom and got some more bandages and gauze.
He changed his bandages quickly and gently, then rolled down his sleeve. When he was done with that, he noticed that Dazai had finished his bottle. He traded it for one of his pacifiers, draping a white fuzzy blanket over him, turned on a kid show at the lowest volume, and went to go do the dishes.
Dazai woke up a few hours later and peeked over the couch. He started babbling to try and get Oda's attention which ended up working.
"Hi, 'Samu. How was your nap?"
The brunette simply stuck out his tongue in an attempt to speak.
"Samu, you're too little to talk right now"
He babbled anyways and just like that, he started crying.
The redhead had dealt with Osamu's regressed state multiple times before. He was his caregiver. Most of the time, he was a troublesome toddler that was around the age of three to five. But when something like last night occurs, his regressed state becomes so advanced that he can no longer control his motor functions.
This state, while cute, is an emotional rollercoaster. Though, he is only up for two hours at a time, his emotions and flashbacks consume him, which can deepen the regression.
"Hey, hey, hey. 'Samu" the redhead rushed to the little and picked him up, placing him on his hip and turning him to watch the TV. His crying turned into hiccups and sniffles. He held onto Oda tight.
"It's okay, everything is okay. You're safe, you're in my apartment and no one knows where you are."
Oda carried Dazai and sat on the floor with the younger in his lap. He pulled out a box from underneath a table and got out some toys to keep him happy. He also pulled out a tablet that had communication speaking futures so Dazai could tell him what he needed. The tablet also had little space appropriate games that the brunette had chosen for himself.
Osamu started to hum and stick out his tongue to touch his nose, signifying that he was content.
The older wanted to ask Dazai about what had happened and what exactly triggered it—but that was a conversation for when he was big. For now, he'd just sit with his little and keep him content: safe. He will always keep him safe.