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Chuuya’s neck was aching, all the muscles tense. His head was down between his knees. The doctor had said he was fine; they were just going to do a couple more tests before sending him home. Chuuya nodded, left, filled out some paperwork for his release and came back. He couldn’t make himself go back through the door. He slumped into one of the chairs outside the room and tried to keep the world from spinning.
“He almost bled out from lacerations up his arms and on his wrists.”
“Do you know who did this to him?”
“Did he do it to himself?”
“Does he have a history of self harm?”
“Would you like us to put him on a 72 hour hold?”
Chuuya had responded no to all those questions. Otherwise they would have kept him longer, started diving deeper into his background. Dazai wouldn’t have wanted to be taken to Mori and Chuuya was not skilled enough to handle this. He just wanted the doctors to stitch him up, give him some blood, and let them go. Even if Dazai needed help desperately he would never accept it especially from some faceless, no-name doctors.
So Chuuya had lied so they could just get home. He prayed that he would be able to get through tonight without screaming or crying.
He knew Dazai was suicidal but walking in on his partner, his best friend, in a pool of his own blood…
“Chibi!”
Chuuya’s head jerked up to see Dazai, in his rumpled clothes from a few days previous, expression bright as ever. The nurse next to him nodded.
“He’s all ready to go.”
“Thank you,” said Chuuya in a dead monotone.
“You already arranged payment and signed release?”
“Yes.”
“He should be under observation for at least-”
“Yes, someone already explained this to me,” snapped Chuuya. He paused, trying to get his temper under control. He didn’t risk another word, just turned and left.
The familiar sound of Dazai’s footsteps followed him.
Once they got to the car(yes Chuuya had to take his car. He couldn’t take Dazai who was still bleeding out on his motorcycle) Dazai attempted a conversation.
“Thanks for bailing me out,” said Dazai brightly. Chuuya just started the car and left the parking lot. “I was wondering how long Mori was going to keep me stuck there. Better than being treated by him though.”
“I took you there,” said Chuuya, stiffly.
“Oh.” Dazai paused. “Well then no thank you. I didn’t want to be saved so you shouldn’t have bothered. And keeping me locked up in a hospital? Nothing short of torture.”
Chuuya didn’t dare respond. He couldn’t risk it. Once he started he wouldn’t stop. So he just fixed his eyes on the road and tried to fight back the waves of fear and aggression and anxiety that had been plaguing him since he had first found Dazai.
“I hope chibi has crab at his house. If I am going to live I might as well eat like a king. “
Chuuya had been planning on going to his apartment anyway, but the fact that Dazai automatically assumed that's where they were headed and that he would get to invade Chuuya's life and waste his time, money, and patience without even having the decency to ask? Chuuya grit his teeth and pulled out a cigarette, lighting carefully.
Thankfully Dazai didn’t say anything the rest of the drive, just hummed a stupid song, proabbly one about suicide, and looked out the window. They got back to Chuuya’s apartment. Chuuya unlocked the door and kicked his shoes off before lighting another cigarette. The nicotine helped calm him a little bit but not nearly enough to make this night bearable.
“Eat whatever food you can find,” said Chuuya, yanking the balcony door open. “And don’t try to fucking kill yourself again.”
“Chuuya what’s wrong?” asked Dazai. Chuuya slammed the balcony door shut. As if he didn’t know.
Chuuya didn’t bother to sit down on one of the plastic chairs, he just sat on the wall closing the balcony off, and tried to settle his nerves. The balcony door slid open and closed again.
“Honestly Chuuya what’s wrong? You're acting really weird and I don’t know why.”
“Really?” snarled Chuuya. “You really don’t know why? Use that famous brain of yours and try to figure it out.”
“Did the operation cost too much? Cause that wasn’t my fault you could have had Mori do it.”
“That’s not it,” grit out Chuuya.
“Really then what-”
“YOU TRIED TO FUCKING KILL YOURSELF.”
Chuuya whirled around, tossing the cigarette aside. Dazai actually took a step back at seeing the rage in Chuuya’s eyes. Chuuya stormed forward and slammed a fist into the wall by Dazai’s head. The building shook and cracked under the pressure. All Chuuya could think was how fucking good that felt.
“I FOUND YOU PASSED OUT IN A POOL OF YOUR OWN BLOOD, SOAKED TO THE SKIN FROM SHOULDER TO THE TIPS OF YOUR FINGERS FROM ALL THE CUTS. I COULD SEE YOUR FUCKING BONE THROUGH SOME OF THEM. CAN YOU IMAGINE HOW THAT FEELS??? WALKING IN ON SOMEONE YOU LOVE DEARLY DAMN NEAR DEAD ON THE FLOOR. COURSE I DIDN’T TAKE YOU TO MORI BECAUSE YOU WOULDN’T HAVE WANTED THAT. AND GOD KNOWS THAT YOU DON’T NEED ANOTHER REASON TO END YOURSELF. THEN YOU GET OUT AND ACT LIKE NOTHING'S WRONG. I GET IT YOU SELF-HARM AND TRY TO KILL YOURSELF SO I SHOULD BE USED TO THIS BUT I’M NOT. EVERYTIME I HEAR ABOUT IT I’M FUCKING TERRIFIED. BUT SEEING IT UP CLOSE WAS THE WORST HELL I COULD IMAGINE.”
Dazai stood back blinking for a moment. Ragged breaths left Chuuya’s chest as the world started to fade. He felt so weak, like he was about to pass out and the pounding pain of stress behind his eyes was not helping. Chuuya stumbled back and gripped the railing of the balcony.
“God I wasn’t going to fucking do this tonight,” snapped Chuuya, dragging his hands down his face. He just needed to sleep. “Just forget I said anything. I don’t care. I never cared.”
“I’m sorry Chuuya,” whispered Dazai. “I didn’t realize… all the times you got pissed after I… I didn’t realize that you were worried, not actually angry.”
“I am angry, Dazai,” growled Chuuya. “I’m really fucking pissed off.”
“I know but it wasn’t because you hated me.”
“For being the Demon Prodigy of Yokohama you are awfully slow sometimes,” muttered Chuuya. “Just forget about it. Jump off the balcony for all I care.” Chuuya tried to shove past Dazai but the brunette caught his arm. Chuuya twisted and found himself staring into Dazai’s brown eye.
“I’m sorry I worried you,” said Dazai softly. “That was never my intention. I’ve never lived in a world where someone would care if I died. I guess I wasn’t aware of the effect it might have on someone who cared.”
“Well I don’t care, so it has no effect on me,” insisted Chuuya. He wasn’t sure why exactly he continued to lie, especially after that outburst.
“Chuuya don’t lie. I should have noticed sooner.”
“Noticed what?? Does it read ‘I care about Dazai’ in big block letters across my forehead or something?”
“No but it might as well be.” Dazai brushed a careful finger under Chuuya’s eye, across the dark bags under his eyes. “You haven’t been sleeping and you always give up eating before you give up sleeping. You have been worried sick that you can’t eat or sleep. Plus” Dazai tugged at a strand of Chuuya’s frazzled red curls. “You haven’t brushed your hair in what seems like a while. And,” Dazai waved a hand at the stack of paperwork that had slowly been building in the time Dazai was in the hospital. “You have been letting your workload build because you cannot focus and if you cannot focus you don’t do the work because you don’t want to do it wrong. So all in all….”
Dazai trailed off, looking at Chuuya seriously. Chuuya would have argued if every one of those facts weren’t true.
“Fine. So maybe I have been a little worried,” relented Chuuya, pulling his arm from Dazai’s grip. “But whatever. Like you always say, I’m overemotional.”
“That’s not what I’m saying at all,” said Dazai, voice louder and more insistent. “I’m saying thank you for caring about me and I am sorry for hurting you.”
Chuuya laughed without meaning to. “Are you for real right now? You're apologizing?”
“Is that really so hard to believe,” said Dazai, indignant.
“Yeah, sort of. Feels like a joke.”
“Well it’s not Chuuya. I am sorry I distubed you. So I will promise you this. I cannot promise I will never hurt myself or try to kill myself again but I can promise to try to stop. Or at the very least have a nice quiet sucide where no innocent bystander will find me and be mentally scarred.”
Chuuya just stared at him for a minute.
“I don’t know what to say about that. Obviously I don’t want you to kill yourself ever but honestly I will take it. I care about you a lot and it would mean a lot to me if you at least tried to pull back. I mean when you feel like doing it, come talk to me. We can go to an arcade or break plates or something.”
“That sounds… good,” said Dazai reluctantly. “Why plates?”
“I dunno. I heard it was therapeutic,” said Chuuya with a shrug. Dazai nodded.
The brunette opened the door and CHuuya followed him back inside.
“Are you even hungry?” asked Chuuya.
“Honestly not really,” said Dazai. “You just want to go to bed huh?”
“I have a headache that hurts worse than a gunshot wound and at this point the easiest way to get rid of it is to sleep so yeah.”
“Well then sleep well, I can head home.”
“You can join me if you like,” said Chuuya, walking toward his bedroom.
“Oooh is Chuuya planning on giving me a reason to live by having mindblowing sex with me?”
A weird strangled noise lept from Chuuya’s throat as he turned to face Dazai.
“What no!!! You pervert! I meant we can sleep together and share a nice moment but of course you fucking ruined it, dickhead. Plus I’m not supposed to let you out of my sight for a couple of days.”
“Hmmm sure,” said Dazai.
“You know what? Nevermind. Last time I try to be nice.”
Chuuya grabbed a fistful of clothes from his room before walking into the adjoining bathroom and slamming the door. When he came out he expected Dazai to be gone or looting the fridge. Instead he was met with a somewhat pleasant surprise.
Dazai was curled up on Chuuya’s bed under the covers. He had changed into some clothes that were at Chuuya’s house, a soft hoodie and an outrageous pair of purple fluffy pajama pants. He looked so peaceful, eyes closed, brown hair fanning out around his head, most of his bandages discarded on the floor. He looked almost…. Normal. Whatever that meant. Chuuya flicked the light off before crawling in next to him.
The brunette immediately flipped and wrapped Chuuya in his grip. It was like being attacked by an incredibly needy kola.
“Gotchu,” whispered Dazai. Chuuya huffed and clutched a pillow to his chest.
“Yeah whatever you idiot. Sleep well.”
“Course I will,” said Dazai. “I got my emotional support dog with me.”