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It wasn’t supposed to be like this.
The universe has a balance, everything has a reason. That’s what everyone loves to say, at least. Despite that, Dazai Osamu fully believed he wasn’t supposed to live this long. It was almost comical, how someone like him made it to the age of twenty two.
He was sat at the agency office, observing his coworkers complete their work. The day was almost over, and he hadn’t done anything at all. Lazing around wasn’t something that bothered him usually, in fact, watching Kunikida get infuriated by it was a great source of joy. Today, however, every second he didn’t occupy himself with work, he felt like he was drowning. His thoughts were especially loud, he really couldn’t wait until he got to his dorm.
His gaze landed on Atsushi, who was chatting with others. It had been around three months since he joined the agency, and ever since, Dazai felt something shift within himself. Atsushi felt like the personification of his promise to Odasaku. If he didn’t know better, he would’ve said it made his heart soften. But in that moment, it just made it even harder to breathe.
Before his thoughts could consume him more, the clock striked six, and it was time to go.
As soon as he got to his dorm, he threw himself on the bed. His bones only got heavier by minute and it was getting really suffocating. The last few months hadn’t even been that bad. Days seemed brighter, he didn’t feel as hollow anymore. It almost felt like he was getting better. And that thought made him feel so disgusted, because it was true. He didn’t feel as bad anymore, yeah there were few suicide attempts here and there but they never were that serious, right?
You’re not sick anymore, his mind screamed at him. Maybe you never were.
That thought made him get up from the bed to get something to drink. The refrigirator had barely anything in it, some canned food along with various alcohol bottles. After he took the bottle, his reflection on the window caught his eye. He looked so, so normal it made him sick. It was impossible to not notice the faults now. His eyebags didn’t look that bad anymore, his once hollow cheeks were rounder, healthier.
God he really needed to stop eating like a pig. He still made an effort to not eat but it was nowhere as much as the past. He accepted most of the food offered and always ate something when he was at the café. A part of him hated how attentive his collegues were. They noticed when he ate so even if he got away a few times with saying he isn’t hungry, they must’ve stopped believing him.
He hadn’t weighed himself in a while, and noticing how much fatter he looked, doing it probably wouldn’t end well. He let out a deep sigh and moved back to his bed. He took a big gulp out of the bottle, finishing nearly half of it, and started laying on his back.
The dorm overall was very lifeless, he didn’t see the point in decorating it beyond necessary. There was no reason to get attached, not at all.
༄˖°.🍂.ೃ࿔*:･
Soon the sky was painted onyx, and the one bottle of alcohol became four. It hit him so suddenly, the loneliness of it all. He was so painfully alone and no one was going to know. No matter what he did, they were never going fully to understand his feelings.
And that hurt more than anything. He didn’t understand he was crying until a tear fell on the bed. It had been so long since he last cried. Normally he would’ve told himself there was no point in it, it wasn’t going to change anything and he would have to get up tomorrow morning and pretend nothing happened. But it didn’t feel like that at all, his throat was too tight, his breath too shaky.
The tears never stopped coming, only getting more by the second. It no longer felt like he was at his dorm, it felt like he was seventeen in that chipping container again, alone, so cold and so inhuman.
He was a silent crier, only gasping and whimpering slightly.
Soon his cries died down and he was left with a pounding headache. He looked around for nothing in particular, only now realizing how tight his skin felt. He wanted to get rid of it, to carve his skin until he was all bones.
That thought made him get up and head to the bathroom for a solution.
༄˖°.🍂.ೃ࿔*:･
While he searched the cabinets for a razor, his gaze fell on the small clutter fentanyl he gathered during last year. Suprisingly, he was yet to feel suicidal enough to take a high dose, and the itch to slit his arms was still there. He wasn’t sure about their dosage, but he really didn’t care enough. If it killes him then great, if it doesn’t at least he’ll be high. Taking some now would make him miserable tomorrow but calling in sick is always an option, right?
So with only three pills, he went to the kitchen to get water and downed them at once. Now that that was done, he could continue on with the razor. Letting himself fall to the ground, he started to unravel his bandages.
His arms, all the way to his shoulders were filled with scars. He placed the razor on his arm, and pressed down as much as he could, but the cut wasn’t as deep as he liked. This time, he pressed the razor inside the previous cut and slit again, again, and again.
His hands were shaking, his cut arm was shaking. The cut was gaping open now, yellow layers of fat painfully obvious. Nausea was fully hitting him now, as the drugs started to show effects. He closed his eyes, and let his head fall against the wall. It was better than anything he’d felt in months, why did he ever stop this? His pants were fully soaked with blood, he needed to clean up the cut and put his bandages back on but, the drowsiness was too much.
He put the bandage on in the laziest way possible. It was gonna be drenched in blood soon anyway. His mind felt empty, as he wanted but he didn’t want it anymore. Letting out a whine, he started to crawl towards his phone, which was by his bed, and he most definitely wasn’t getting up yet.
When he managed to get it, his hand immidiately went to the first person who could make him feel something.
Chuuya.
Honestly, Dazai wasn’t even sure he’d pick up. But-
“What could you possibly be calling about now?”
Well, that was unexpected. His head was blurry, unsure of what to say.
“ifyoudontcomehereimgonnakillmyself,”
“HUH??”
“Mm,” He was way too high for this.
“Don’t be stupid, you’re in the dorms, right?”
“yea”
The nausea was getting really bad now, he hung up. It did make him feel better knowing Chuuya was gonna come. With a sigh he layed down compeletly, closing his eyes.
༄˖°.🍂.ೃ࿔*:･
When he regained consciousness, it was by a strong shake to his shoulder. It felt impossible to open his eyes, they were way too heavy.
“Come on, wake up,” Right, he told Chuuya to come.
He lazily opened his eyes, what he didn’t expect though, was the sheer amount of worry in his ex-partner’s eyes. “Ah, my dog took too long to arrive,” He wasn’t so sure of how long it had been, actually.
“Clearly i was, wanna tell me what the hell happened?” His gaze fell on Dazai’s arm. Oh. The cut must’ve bled through. His entire lower arm was drenched in blood, now that he realized it, it was incredibly uncomfortable and sticky.
“Can we talk about it later?” It was inevitable, but he hoped later never came. Explaining it would make him seem even more pathetic. Yes, Chuuya had seen him in similar situations before, but that didn’t make it easier.
“Fine, let’s get you cleaned up first then we can talk. Now get up,”
“You’re not gonna carry meeee?? Bridal style?? You’re soooo cruel Chuuya,”
Chuuya only smiled, but he felt relieved that Dazai was feeling okay enough to joke. He took the others hand and pulled him up.
When they got to the bathroom Dazai realized how much of a mess he’d made. Dried blood was everywhere on the floor and in the sink. He wasn’t even sure how that got in there. Chuuya maden o comment about it, which was fair.
He sat on the toilet seat, waiting for the next instructions. “Does it need stitches?” Oh yeah, they were still talking about the cut. “Maybe, but you don’t have to,” Chuuya pointed towards his bandaged arm. “Let me take a look,” With that he started pulling them off, revealing the large cut.
“…Yeah i’m stitching that,” He moved towards the open cabinets to get the needle and a thread.
༄˖°.🍂.ೃ࿔*:･
Dazai was compeletly silent during the process, simply gazing into the void. He was still high and, his brain felt like it was going to explode. Chuuya more than likely knew that, so didn’t try to make conversation.
It was fully dark outside now, and Dazai was yet to know the exact time. “It’s done, wanna lay down?” Laying sounded nice, he was sick of holding his head up.
They got up and went to the bed. Dazai immidiately threw himself on the mattress, while Chuuya only sat on it.
“Now tell me what happened,” There it is. The part where Dazai needs to be honest about the feeling he can’t even process. He wanted to explain, he really did, in hopes that maybe Chuuya might understand.
“I don’t have to tell you that,” He said instead, cause he’s stupid.
Chuuya only sighed in response, “If you didn’t wanna talk about anything then you wouldn’t have called me. I know you, dumbass, at least enough to know that,”
“I will but first-“ He pulled Chuuya down by his arm, so that they were laying together. “This is better,” The soft smile on Chuuya’s lips was mirroring his.
“Yeah, it is,” They moved closer to each other, fingers colliding. Dazai wished for a lot, but more than anything, he wished for silent moments like this to last forever. For it to never end, to never lose the scent of faint cinnamon by his side.
Hesitantly, he reached to cup Chuuya’s cheek, and slowly brought his lips to meet his own. The kiss was soft, full of the love neither of them allowed themselves to feel. After a few more, Dazai broke it and started to kiss the others neck. “You’re so fucking pretty Chuuya, it’s gonna be the death of me,”
Chuuya gave him the softest smile, “You won’t distract me from talking about it, you know that?”
“Mhmmm” He moved to straddle Chuuya’s thighs, continuing to kiss him. The room was filled with their occasional light breaths and moans as Dazai started to grind his hips. “Dazai-“
His hands were already undoing Chuuya’s belt. “Wait, Dazai-“ He was cut off by a rough kiss, it was full of teeth, with no resemblance to the previous ones.
“Just stop fighting,” The belt was fully undone, but before he could do more, Chuuya gave him a strong push to the side.
“What the fuck was that!? We’re not having sex right now,” Dazai pushed himself to sit up,
“Why.” He didn’t understand the problem, they used to do this all the time.
“Because you’re not okay right now?? And high, too,” He looked at Dazai like it was obvious.
“Well that never stopped you before,” With that, Chuuya’s gaze twisted into something of pity, it made Dazai even more disgusted with himself. He got up, wanting to be anywhere but there,
“Just leave Chuuya, I don’t need you anymore,” It was a lie, they both knew it, but that didn’t make it hurt less. He didn’t know what he was doing. Every second made him more and more hyper aware of his body, he needed to throw up, to become a new person entirely. Him leaving the room didn’t stop Chuuya from speaking,
“See what i mean? This is your fucking problem, you called me here to help and you’re trying to push me away. Of course you can’t solve shit like this, you can’t do anything like this,” His voice got louder as he got closer to where Dazai was.
Dazai picked up the razor he had left on the floor, and pressed it to his throat as hard as he could. Chuuya came shortly, but his expression was now one of extreme worry.
“Put.That.Down.””
“No-“ Tears were streaming down his face again, it made him hate all of it more.
Chuuya moved before he could process it, gripping his hand with the razor and throwing it into the sink. He grabbed Dazai’s arms and pulled him into a tight hug. There was a small trail of blood going down his neck from how hard he pressed down.
They got down to sit on the floor, the weight of what could’ve happened heavy. Dazai realized the blood was staining both his and Chuuya’s clothes.
“I wish you would just talk to me,” Oh, how badly Dazai wished for the same, so why did it feel so impossible? This was Chuuya, his Chuuya. He would never see him as less for talking about it so why couldn’t the words come out?
“I’m sorry,” It was barely above a whisper, but it was all he could muster.
“I don’t want you to apologize, Osamu, I want to help- “ It was met with another set of sobs.
“You can’t,”
“Try me,” And somehow, he was smiling. Dazai put him through that for no reason and he was looking at him with kindness. Dazai tried to gather up his thoughts and not think too much,
“I don’t know what happened, i was feeling fine but then-“ he took a sharp breath, “-it made me feel weird cause i haven’t felt fine like that in so long and i don’t want to feel fine, whatififakedbeingsickallthistimeandigainedweightitsdisgusting and- i can’t live like that.”
If Chuuya felt something at that, he didn’t let it show on his face. A part of Dazai was grateful for it.
“Okay,”
“Okay?”
“Yeah, i’m glad you finally spoke up,” He got up and pulled on Dazai’s sleeve, signaling him to follow.
They went back to the bed, sitting on it. Their fingers were still intertwined,
“I know i don’t understand all of it, and I don’t know how to fix this, but i’m not letting you leave anytime soon,” Dazai only nodded, pulling them down to lay.
“I don’t want you to fix it,” Maybe that wasn’t exactly what he wanted to say, but his thoughts were clouded and it was getting harder to keep his eyes open. Chuuya probably noticed it too, so he said nothing.
Still, when Dazai fell asleep, the pain in his chest wasn’t any lighter. Only a fool would expect such burden to dissappear as soon as a new handler came by, that didn’t make it easier, but at least it calmed the screaming in his mind that there was no one by his side.