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Chuuya had overexerted himself once again. His breathing was shallow and labored; his body was as tense as a bowstring.
Dazai had managed to get Chuuya to lay down on the forest floor, but that was the extent of any sort of movement he could possibly perform. It had left him gasping for air and moaning in pain, and Dazai was hesitant to ask him to do anything more. He had to rest for quite some time now before he could even consider heading back to the Port Mafia base.
Dazai sat next to his partner, pulling up his legs to his chest. Chuuya’s face and arms were still stained black from using his ability.
It was like this every time. He would go too far, and have to suffer the consequences. Not that there was any other way, of course; the Guild had been very powerful, so it was only natural that Chuuya would have to push himself to defeat them.
That didn’t mean either member of the Soukoku had to like it.
Chuuya grunted a bit in pain and Dazai leaned a little closer to examine him. His forehead was breaking out into a sweat.
Dazai frowned and unfurled his legs to crawl to Chuuya’s side. He placed one hand on the other’s head, causing him to flinch a bit in surprise.
Ah...he was burning up.
“Do you enjoy suffering like this?” Dazai quipped. “You must if you like using your ability so much.”
Chuuya narrowed his eyes, wincing slightly. “Shut up...I’m not you....bastard...”
Even though he was acting like his usual self, his voice was soft and clearly strained. Dazai could see his lips trembling with the effort of even speaking.
He sighed and removed his hand from Chuuya’s forehead. “...You need to rest. The Mafia will be worried about you, so you should head back as soon as you can.”
“I know,” Chuuya muttered.
He clenched his eyes shut. Beads of sweat rolled down his face. His arms were shaking.
So much pain...so much strength, but with a dear price.
Dazai reached over and took one of Chuuya’s trembling hands in his own. Usually Chuuya would have protested, but he was much too weak to do anything of the sort now.
Dazai squeezed Chuuya’s hand, taking notice of how warm to the touch it was.
He would be okay in an hour or so. Then he would go back to the Mafia, and Dazai would head back to the Detective Agency.
They would be back where they belonged now. Away from one another.
Chuuya gently squeezed Dazai’s hand in return, and the bandaged man turned to gaze down at his companion. His eyes were open now, but cloudy. He looked like he was going to cry.
He spoke in a painfully quiet voice. “...You’ll stay with me, right? Dazai...I...need you to stay with me,” he pleaded.
His face was almost scarlet with fever.
Dazai nodded slowly. “Yes...I’ll stay with you, Chuuya. Don’t worry.”
He lightly squeezed Chuuya’s hand and the two were silent, surrendering to the nighttime sounds of the forest surrounding them.
They both knew Dazai had no intention of staying. As soon as Chuuya went unconscious from pain, he would leave. He could not remain by his side. It was just the way things were now.
But they almost didn’t dwell on the lie at all. It made things more bearable.
And, as they sat with their hands intertwined, for a moment everything almost seemed right again.