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“That was so stupid. You could have died!” Chuuya's voice rang out across the small alleyway. His fists were clenched so hard they were shaking and his heart rate had yet to slow down.
In front of him on the asphalt, leaning against a wall, sat Dazai. His expression was vacant while he clutched at a deep gash in his cheek. His attitude towards the whole situation had been way too nonchalant, and Chuuya was getting dangerously close to considering punching some sense into him. He was more than aware of his partner's suicidal tendencies, but this was too damn close.
“I get that we needed information, but taunting a fucker holding a GUN at your head!?!? Are you INSANE!? You're lucky that cut wasn't your brains being blown out, you know that right!?”
Chuuya was fuming. Almost more out of lingering terror than anger. If it wasn't because he'd kicked a barrel at the enemy, Dazai wouldn't have been sitting here right now. Yet despite his yelling, Dazai's expression remained unchanged. There was something off about the look in his uncovered eye as it met Chuuya's. Like whatever faint trace of a light there might have been in it had gone out, leaving nothing but an empty, aching darkness behind it. And when he attempted a grin, the effect was nearly heartbreaking.
“But wouldn't becoming abstract art against the asphalt be a fancy way to go? You might even have been able to make some money out of me and bought yourself a fine-”
His words were interrupted when Chuuya quickly crouched down and grabbed a tight hold of his collar. Chuuya's eyes were burning as they glared into his. “Don’t say another word. You're not pulling this shit on my watch. I’ve lost enough people in my life, and I’m not about to lose you too because you think checking out is easier than actually giving this world a chance. And if you think I’d find joy in losing you-” Chuuya had to cut himself off and exhale shakily to steady himself. Dazai watched him in silence. His expression was hard to read.
“Just quit this already, god damnit. We can't keep going like this. I don't want to wake up one morning and find out you're gone. Or round a corner just to see you splattered all over the fucking ground. What is it that's hurting you like this? Why can't you ever just talk to me so I know what the hell is wrong?”
When Dazai refused to reply, his eyes aimed at the ground, Chuuya let his forehead drop heavily against his.
“Just speak to me, damnit… Please…”