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It happened again.
The same thing that always happens.
That familiar smell of a corpse lying on not so freshly mown grass. But this time it was just one corpse, it was two.
Two turned into three, three turned into four, and four turned into sixteen.
Sixteen of his subordinates, dead.
For the first time in which feels like hours, the redhead lifts up his head to look at the scarlett haired woman sitting in front of him. She offers a sorrowful smile and rubs his upper arm softly. "Don't do that. Please," whispered Chuuya, slowly pulling away his arm. The hospital bed was uncomfortable as always, honestly you might as well replace it with a block of wood that might provide some comfort. Chuuya forced himself to look away from his former mentor, focusing on the shooting pain pulsing through his shoulder.
"One of them is in a coma, he may survive. If that makes anything better," Kouyou leans backwards on her chair, glancing over to the opposite bed which was in possession of a young male, at least early twenties. Kouyou's observation clearly did nothing to help Chuuya's state as she was met was a mocking scoff and an eye roll to top it off.
"That's one out of fifteen others. Fifteen, ane-san! And you know what? I don't think I can grieve. This has happened to me so many fucking times, I no longer feel shock nor denial. Maybe that makes me a horrible person, maybe I am a horrible person but I don't fucking care anymore," Chuuya spits out, the nausea waving over him and he's sure Kouyou can see it in his expression as he feels himself grimace. Pity is the only thing he can see. Pity. And he hates it.
It's his fault they're dead. Just like it was his fault the sheep tried to kill him, if he wasn't so scared of them getting hurt by the mafia he never would've been betrayed. If he wasn't born this way, Verlaine never would've killed the flags or Murase. If he was strong enough then Colonel, one of the faithful executives, might still be around. If he had worked harder, his subordinates may still be alive.
He should've expected this would turn out to be his life really. He is the actual, living vessel for the god of destruction. Of course everything around him would be destroyed eventually. Perhaps if that monster just died, no one would be hurt anymore.
Maybe if he died, no one else would die anymore.
"Ougai has ordered you to take a few days off. Get yourself back together, yeah?" A voice broke him out of his trance, forcing him to blink for the first time in minutes. It took him a moment to process what Kouyou had just said, and when he did he could feel the anger bubble up inside him.
"I don't need a few days off, Kouyou. Tell him to take it back! If anything I need more days to-"
A cold glare was shot his way, making the redhead go quiet. "You will take the days off to make sure you feel better, eat well, sleep well and just take care of yourself. You and I both know you don't deal with grief well and luckily the boss knows that too which is why this is an order," She snaps, refusing to blink. Chuuya knew this was a tactic she often used to stand her ground and make sure people knew she was not playing about. Chuuya swallowed some bile as he felt the nausea rise into him again.
But he agreed.
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How to get rid of a god living inside you?
Well Chuuya doesn't have all the answers, Jesus!
He should probably already be on his way to the shop but he can't bring himself to leave the spot he's in. By feeding himself, that means feeding Arahabaki, and by feeding Arahabaki, that means he's giving more power to him. It.
Slamming the fridge door with all his might probably wasn't his smartest idea as it's left an unbearable ringing in his ears. Chuuya can't bring himself to care. Pressing fingers to his chest, he can almost feel his ribs. Almost.
He needs to deprive it. Deprive it of sleep, water, food, everything. If he goes down, so will Arahabaki and if that thing goes down, everyone else will be saved. Although this means he's practically got nothing to do other than laze about on his bed or couch.
Better than lying six feet underground though, isn't it?
Chuuya lets out a frustrated scream, before stomping off to his bedroom and scavenging through his drawers quickly. What was he searching for? Not even he could answer that question. Just something valuable. Something worth giving away to someone.
The amount of things he manages to find is unimaginable. He doesn't deserve all of these nice things, what is it for anyway? Did he get it for murdering people? Torturing them? Being the reason for their deaths? He's done absolutely nothing to earn all of this. So he may as well give them away.
A black choker, he could give that to Gin. Dark navy gloves, that could do some use to Ryūnosuke, his palms are practically full of cuts and scars. A green leather jacket, he could lend that to Tachihara considering his was getting a bit ripped up. A bright red blazer, definitely fit for Ane-san, she's always yapping about how she has no coats to wear for her business meetings.
Fucking hell. All this stuff which could do good use for everyone else, except the owner they belong too. Piling all these belongings up onto his unusually large bed, Chuuya pulls out his phone and contacts everyone he could think of in that moment.
"Come over later. I've got something for you, a present if you must. Thanks :)"
Chuuya will never not cringe after sending a message to someone, all sense of humour or emotion is lost over text. It's much less human.
Just like him.
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The next few days passed by like lightning. Turns out not doing stuff can make everything easier for you. Chuuya gave loads of his stuff to the selected people, though it raised questions from Kouyou, he reassured her he was just sorting out his place. She probably didn't buy it but it's ok for now.
As long as she doesn't get in the way of anything, he'll be alright.
The last thing he had eaten was an apple because the empty feeling he had in his stomach was agonising. Restricting his drinking was easier because Chuuya wasn't thirsty much, even before his decision drinking was never really an option. Sleeping wasn't much of an issue either. Sure he took some power naps every now and then but it was hardly anything.
Not enough to let Arahabaki rest.
"Chuuya! How lovely to see you back on your feet. How were your days off?" Mori presented his usual smile, resting his chin on his hands. Chuuya blinked a couple times before adjusting to the new found light. Being in the darkness for three days, it was almost as if he was nocturnal.
"Perfectly normal, boss. I can only apologise for my absence," He gives a reassuring nod, placing a hand on his chest. Mori waves a hand nonchalantly, chuckling as he does so.
"No need to apologise, I am the one who ordered those days off after all. But now that you're back on track I need you to go meet with the armed detective agency in about an hour. Something about mixed up reports, it's not worth me wasting my time on," The purple haired man sighs, shaking his head and looking down at his desk. Going to the agency wasn't a big deal, seeing that bandaged bastard was. Chuuya refrained from letting out a groan, instead replacing it with a forced smile and nodding. "I'll head there straight away. Thank you"
And with that, Chuuya left.
Driving to the agency is always an easy job, it's surprisingly not that far from the Mafia. Well, at least if you're on a motorbike. Will Chuuya regret coming here? Probably. Will he back down? No.
"But Kunikida!! This paperwork is way to advanced for little old me," is the first thing the redhead hears the moment he steps foot near the door. He can basically see the frustrated expression planted on the former executive's new partner's face. Kunikida must be his name. The blond one.
Gin was trailing behind him, she didn't have much on her schedule and she wanted to keep busy so she insisted she follow along. She reaches for the door handle and pushes it open. "Gin! What a lovely surprise!" Dazai giddies, running over to ruffle her hair causing a smack to land on his hand. He fake pouts before leaning over to check if anyone else was there. Chuuya's frown immediately deepens when his eyes meet with light brown ones.
"Let's get this over with," Chuuya sighs and shoves past the brunette, nodding at everyone else. The purple haired lady offers a hesitant smile before gesturing towards a room which Chuuya could only assume was Fukuzawa's office. So that's where he went.
He could practically feel Dazai glaring at him as he walked past him, choosing to ignore it wasn't exactly easy but probably the best route.
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Dazai's brow furrowed and she shifted slightly to look directly at the redhead. In any other circumstance he probably would've made a teasing comment or something, but somethings off. This wasn't a normal circumstance.
Chuuya looks ill.
And not just a tummy bug ill. Proper ill. His skin is pale, he has awful dark circles resting under his eyes and he looks malnourished. Dazai lets a worried expression slip on his face as he glances at Gin who was already looking his direction. She sighs and nods over to an area which was more secluded, Dazai follows.
"What happened?" He questions, crossing his arms over his chest. Gin rubs the back of her neck, making firm eye contact with the man opposite her. Dazai doesn't usually let himself look serious, but there are some situations where it's necessary. He watches as Gin takes a deep breath and begins to talk.
"Fifteen of his subordinates, all dead. Boss told him to take three days off, but i'm sure you can see he doesn't look normal. On his first day off he gave me and a whole bunch of other people some of his possessions. I don't know what's going on. Ozaki ordered for me to follow him today, Nakahara believes I just had a lenient schedule"
Dazai knows Chuuya has never coped with grief well, he'll lash out and self destruct but there was something in what Gin said that struck out to him. Giving stuff away? Sure Chuuya is a generous person but it was usually only for birthdays or Christmas, etcetera. This was completely out of the blue, something isn't right.
And Dazai was going to find out what it was.
A couple of minutes after their conversation, Dazai resorted back to irritating Kunikida and insisting for his protege to do his work. "Dazai is there any chance you could do your own paperwork today?” Atsushi complains, bringing out the next set of files he was to work through. Dazai chuckled and opens his mouth to say something before the door to the presidents office swiftly opened.
Chuuya was carrying the necessary reports in his hands and he smiled as thanks at Fukuzawa. His gaze quickly shifted as he turned to look at Gin, who nodded as if their minds had spoken to each other. She began to walk out as the executive spared the bandaged man one last glare, until they both left.
“Ranpo, tell the president I’m leaving early. Headache”
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The rest of the day glided by smoothly. Sure Chuuya’s vision was a bit blurry and he felt a bit faint but it was nothing he couldn’t handle. He’s dealt with walks home while a bullet rested in his leg, he’s dealt with corruption, he’s dealt with an unbelievably annoying partner which lasted for three years. He’s fine.
“Chuuya, would you like some red velvet cake? Higuchi baked it for the Akutagawa’s birthday,” Kouyou offered, carry a piece of cake wrapped in tin foil. Chuuya almost accepted until he heard that familiar noise in his head. A furious scream only a monster could possess.
“Thank you, Ane-san but I’m fine really,” He answered, waving a hand as if it was the smallest thing ever. But in reality he felt like eating raw chicken would be a decent meal. The executive was hesitant to let go of the situation but she soon deflated. She placed the wrapping on a close table and walked over to the malnourished man.
“You don’t look well. Are you okay, lad?” She asks, presenting a soft smile but cold glare. He almost let the truth slip, almost. Chuuya responded with a reciprocating glare, letting a frown slip. “I’m fine. I have work to finish,” He snapped, proceeding to finish a report from a previous mission he went on a few weeks before. His efforts didn’t fully convince the older woman but it seems as if she gave up because she slowly walked out, leaving the redhead with his thoughts.
Soon enough the day finished and Chuuya was allowed to head home. His once lively home felt dead. So much can change within such a short timespan. But Chuuya did not want to eat, he did not want to drink, he did not want to sleep, he did not want to feel. He’s sure this feeling was developing throughout the months but he chose to ignore it. He was more fortunate then many, he didn’t deserve to feel this way. It was all invalid.
Lying down on his couch, he stares blankly at his tv, located straight ahead of him. He can’t be bothered to watch anything, let alone turn it on. He doesn’t even notice as the locks in his front door turn and open up, revealing a tall brunette. He doesn’t care enough to notice.
“It’s just me, Chuuya,” the figure reassures, walking into the soundless kitchen and turning in the tap. The redhead felt like crying. He did not want to deal with anyone’s bullshit at the moment. He just wanted to disappear. Lanky hands push his body up, but it’s soon replaced with a fall to Dazai’s chest. “When was the last time you ate?” He interrogates, pushing some strands of hair away from Chuuya’s pale face. His answer is a shrug, which tells him it must’ve been a while ago. Now, some may call Dazai a hypocrite if we consider his eating habits but his health is not of his concern.
“I don’t need your fucking help, Dazai. Leave me alone,” Chuuya grits out, attempting to shove Dazai back but it’s effortless so it’s a nudge at best. He receives a small smile, then feeling a cold glass press against his lips. His mouth involuntary opens, craving the feeling of having some water in his system. Slowly, some tears fall down his cheeks as his chest starts going up and down, tiny sobs escaping his lips.
“It’s all my fault! I just need to go, get away from here. I need to die, Dazai. It’s necessary. If I die, he dies,” Chuuya yells out, pushing away Dazai’s hands which were trying to assist in helping him drink.
“Chuuya-”
The next thing Dazai feels is a stinging sensation land on his cheek. He lands on the ground with a thud and he looks up at Chuuya who is beginning to get up and stomp away. “Just fucking leave me alone! I don’t need you anymore. I don’t want you,” he almost screams, pointing back and forth from himself and the brunette, lying in front of him. Bringing a hand to his mouth, the older man legs his eyes shut as sobs wreck through him. The malnourishment must have caught up to him as his knees buckle and he falls down to the floor.
“Ne Chuuya, how about we go to sleep and we go out for a marvellous meal tomorrow! I suppose I can pay if Chuuya does insist,” Dazai hesitantly gets hp from his position and sits next to the shorter male, huddling the man into his chest, letting him cry freely. “I don’t need any sleep,” he says defiantly, refusing to give in but the moment that sentence came from him, the exhaustion overcame him. Dazai chuckles and slowly but steadily brings Chuuya to his feet and helps him towards the bedroom, letting him lay down on the bed.
“I promise you, none of your comrades deaths are your fault, neither Arahabaki’s. You do not need to blame yourself for something that is out of your control, okay?” Dazai explains, running a hand through silky red hair, drawing a shiver from the now half-asleep man. “Not a fucking child don’t treat me like one,” he hears a slurred reply before it settles into soft breathing. Dazai rolls his eyes but it’s not out of annoyance, it’s over how stupid Chuuya can be when he’s upset. Dazai got up to lay next to Chuuya, slinging an arm over his waist and pulling him closer. He felt slim, abnormally slim in fact. Eating one thing a day is still as bad as not eaten, though he knows many who would like to differ (a certain redhead). Self-destruction is really not a good look on Chuuya, the former executive pondered.
This is similar to an episode he had when he was about seventeen. Chuuya didn’t have a lot of time to mourn the flags so the grief came late and it hit him like a truck. He spent half his time locked in his room if he wasn’t working, and Dazai had to clean up the pieces.
But he would gladly do it all over again and clean up his partners mess, every time.