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Fifteen men. Dead.
Fifteen loyal mafia workers, gone.
Fifteen people with homes, with families who woke and left home this morning without realizing they weren’t coming back.
Fifteen people dead because of his mistake.
It was such a simple mission, really. An in and out heist at a small warehouse, maybe one of two pathetic ability users clouding the way in a meager attempt to stop them.
Nothing could’ve prepared him for the mass explosion the use of his ability caused.
Bombs.
The warehouse was filled with bombs.
He’d only managed to survive because he managed to use Tainted to shove a slab of scrap metal in front of himself.
Nobody else had been that lucky.
A normal mafia executive wouldn’t have even been fazed. Does a couple of deaths truly matter in the grand scheme of things?
Chuuya was one of the only ones who saw death for what it was.
Horrid.
One of those men was newly married. Him and his wife were ecstatic, overjoyed to finally be together.
Another one was a father. His daughter was set to graduate in a week.
One of them was a son, taking care of his ill father because they couldn’t afford professional help.
They were all gone.
Chuuya sobbed, shoulders sagging as he forced gulps of bitter alcohol down his throat. He hadn’t cried like this since a week after the sheep had died.
His hands shook in the bitter cold, hair gently blowing in the breeze. His legs dangled off the edge of the balcony he was perched on, weakly trembling anytime another sob quaked his body.
Dazai wasn’t coming home for another two hours. Something about staying up late to attend some meeting with Mori.
It was funny, really.
Death didn’t faze either of them. They’d killed many in their lives at the mafia.
But none of the deaths were like this.
None of them had been this painful, this raw.
Fifteen people for god's sake. Fifteen. Because of him. Because of how utterly stupid he was.
Chuuya shakily got up from the chilling floor of the balcony, stumbling inside. The bottle of alcohol slipped from his hands shattering on the floor. He barely even twitched at the noise.
His eyes drearily looked around, brimming with tears. They trailed over to the medicine cabinet he and Dazai shared, locked with a padlock in case Dazai ever had to urge to overdose randomly. Chuuya was sure Dazai knew the code, but chose not to break in. He wasn’t quite sure why.
It was intriguing honestly. How badly the bandaged executive wanted to rid himself from this planet.
‘Maybe he has a point.’
Chuuya slowly shifted forward, freezing hands struggling to open the padlock as he bit back another fit of sobs. He finally got the cabinet open, hands reaching out blindly and grasping the first bottle of pills he saw.
He didn’t think twice before hastily unscrewing the lid and tossing it to the side. He dumped a handful of pills into his palm, dropping the rest of the bottle to the floor.
Dazai did this often. It shouldn’t be too difficult, should it?
Before he could think twice, be hit with a sense of regret, or even come up with a rational thought, Chuuya opened his mouth, tossing the pills in. He hastily grabbed a flask of some random drink he’d gotten out when he first got home, and gulped down nearly half before sinking to the floor.
He’d be dead before he knew it.
This was what he deserved.
Right…?
The last thing he’d heard was a loud voice, before his vision fogged over and he collapsed to the floor.
-
“Oh Chuuyaaa, I’m ho-omeee~!” Dazai sang, bursting through the door with a flourish. “Your lovely partner decided meetings were boring and am now here early to-”
He cu off slightly, seeing Chuuya’s hat discarded on the floor.
Chibi never let his things be in any way unorganized.
His eyes widened slightly before he heard a small thump.
“Chuuya…? Were you too tiny to reach the counters and fell trying to get onto them?”
No snippy comment or insult yelled back.
Something was wrong.
Dazai took a few steps forward, and his heart nearly froze.
Chuuya was sprawled on the floor, pale as a ghost. Shards of glass littered the floor around him, as well as a likely alcoholic substance seeping into the tiles. A medication bottle was next to him, a mere four pills inside.
Dazai dashed forward, falling to his knees with a nervous laugh. “Chibi, this isn’t funny. Get up.”
He slid the prescription bottle over, brain fogging with horror as he read the label.
He’d gotten these days ago.
The bottle was damn near empty.
He remembered something Kouyou had mentioned a few hours ago, something about a mission gone wrong. He ignored when he was told the casualties, not caring in the slightest.
He hadn’t realized they were Chuuya’s men. And Chuuya was attached to his workers.
Dazai didn’t think twice, rolling the red-head over and pressing a finger to his neck to check for a pulse. His stomach lurched when he felt how weak it was.
His hands fumbled as he pulled his phone out, typing in a number faster than he ever had felt the need to.
'Is this how Chibi feels…? When I do this?'
The phone rang once before Mori picked up. He sounded tired. “Yes, Dazai?”
“Get to me and Chuuya’s apartment. Now.”
Dazai’s body filled with rage as he heard Mori chuckle. “Another one of your episodes?”
“Not me.” Dazai replied through gritted teeth. “Chuuya.”
The line went silent for a few seconds, before Mori hurriedly said, “On my way.” before the call ended.
Dazai looked down.
Chuuya wasn’t allowed to look this lifeless.
“I-I’m getting help Chibi, okay? You’ll be fine.” Dazai stuttered, hating how shaky his voice was. He pulled Chuuya’s head into his lap, stroking his hair gently.
“He’ll be here any minute now. You’ll be fine.”
If you die, I’d have no one left.