Work Text:
“Open up damn Mackerel!” Chuuya banged on the door of the storage container, face already red. “We have an assignment today, and ya damn know it, ya waste of bandages!” The thudding could be heard echoing through the concerningly empty box Dazai liked to call home. But that wasn’t what got Chuuya to stop his banging. No. It was the lack of any insults coming from the box.
He sighed as he reached for his copy of the key, but something deep inside began to grow unsettled the longer he didn’t hear anyone. “Oi! Shitty Dazai! If you don’t come and open this door, I’m coming in myself!” barked out Chuuya, but he was already sliding the key into the lock. He unlocked the door, hesitating to push it open. But they had a mission to attend to.
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His gut dropped. He was going to throw up. Nope, Chuuya couldn’t add to the mess right now. It was Dazai that needed help.
He lay there in his own puke, the stench radiating through the storage container. His chest barely moved. But it did move. That was something. In fact…
“Bad dog… you found me too early…” came the whisper from Dazai as Chuuya rushed over. He frankly did not care for the weak protests coming from the brunette’s mouth. Chuuya shoved his fingers down Dazai’s throat, attempting to trigger the man’s gag reflex. But considering all the training they went through, that took far longer than Chuuya would have preferred. But in the end, it did still work. Dazai threw up the rest of the half digested pills. He moaned and groaned about it. But relief settled in Chuuya as he proved to be alive.
...
MORI OUGAI
The mission is to be postponed.
18:43
And what makes you think you have such
power to postpone it?
18:45
If you wish for your organization to keep
running, it would be in your best interests
to have an infirmary bed prepared for your
beloved "Demon Prodigy"
Read 18:46
...
Dazai already in his arms, the gravity manipulator walked out of the depressing storage container before shooting off on his bike, on his way to the Port Mafia's headquarters.