Twenty Seven • Self Destruction

                                    

                                          
"Oh grantors of—"
                          
• • • 
                          
He's done it, he's eliminated the enemies, and he's over with it. No, this isn't one of those times where Dazai reaches him in time. This isn't some happy ever after, life doesn't work that way. 
                          
Life was never designed to be fair. 
                          
There's blood dripping down the side of his face, his pupils have gotten even smaller, and his knuckles are red. But he's lying on the ground, practically lifeless. His skin is pale, and his eyes are half-lidded as he tries to look at Dazai. "Chuuya!" Dazai yells as he holds Chuuya in his arms. "No, no—you're alive, stop playing pretend." 
                          
"You stupid mackeral, this one is on me," Chuuya breaks through, coughing midsentence. "I decided to go—even when you weren't ready, even when you said no. It was stupid of me." He tries to hold onto Dazai's arm, but the strain on his whole body is too much for him. He's conscious, Dazai got him out of the state of Corruption.
                          
But he's late. 
                          
"No—no I could have stopped you—" Chuuya cuts him off, "You damn fool, hurry up and go."
                          
That's when Chuuya's eyes close properly, the faintest smile is still on his face as a tear rolls down the boy's cheek, and Dazai starts screaming at the lifeless boy in his arms. His arms feel fragile as he holds Chuuya in his arms, his hands shake violently underneath him.
                          
And that's when Dazai wakes up from his little daydream.
                          
It's not what happened.
                          
In actuality—
                          
Chuuya's heart feels as if it has stopped, and right when he's about to lose all control of himself, he stops. The red hue outlining his figure is slowly vanishing, and he takes one his hands to bring his hat a little lower, covering his eyes the slightest while looking down at his feet. He controls his breathing before he turns around, and he's instantly walking back to Dazai—who still hasn't looked up nor moved a muscle. 
                          
One of Chuuya's arms hooks around Dazai's neck, and the other is placed on top of his head, bringing him closer to him. And Dazai instantly leans back into his touch, eyes still closed. Letting the other hold him as he keeps his eyes shut, reawakening into reality. 
                          
Chuuya's smiling ever so slightly into Dazai's hair. 
                          
Dazai feels good like this, because Chuuya is close to him, and he knows that he can't use his ability when he's touching him. 
                          
Chuuya has comforted him before, Dazai remembers—a very long time ago, maybe when they were fifteen, but that's besides the point now. All that matters and should be focused on is the fact that Chuuya is back to him, he's holding him, and he's not going anywhere. 
                          
That he's safe.
                          
Or so he thinks.
                          
"You're so stupid, Chibi," Dazai somehow manages to say, the playfulness in his voice is masking the broken rawness. Because his throat feels like he's been screaming for hours, and it's just been so tight that he could hardly breathe. 
                          
It's when he realizes why it's been feeling like that—his body twitches against Chuuya's, and Chuuya tries to calm him down, trying to reach down to rub his back in reassurance. 
                          
The whole time he'd been staring at the ground, he was imagining what was going to happen. Or well, predicting—what Dazai likes to call it. Point being—
                          
He was screaming Chuuya's name when he didn't reach him in time, holding onto his body—his dead body—as he broke out his name with a string of 'please don'ts' mixed in between. There was Chuuya's blood on his hands when he looked down and then it all stopped. He had gotten out of his little zone. And he's glad that didn't happen, that Chuuya came back to you two, came back to him. 
                          
"I'm sorry," Chuuya whispers, having the weird urge to once again kiss the top of head—where Dazai won't feel it—just like how he did when they first comforted each other. So he does, eyes still shut as he does so. He doesn't mean anything by it, he's only trying to calm the other down. "Thank you," Dazai mumbles quietly, barely recognizable as Dazai himself. Even you have to replay the moment in your mind. "Thank you?" Chuuya chuckles softly, "Wow, Dazai, you've changed, haven't you?"
                          
He has. It's hardly even seen as a change, but he has become more caring. When the two of them first met, Dazai was rather playful, immature around him from time to time, but they both knew that Dazai was a totally different person when anywhere else. When he's serious, mainly. There's a saying that goes around the Port Mafia, something along the lines of, "The biggest misfortune for Dazai's enemies is that they are Dazai's enemies." And well, it's true, and Chuuya had seen that for himself.
                          
Dazai still has his eyes shut as he leans into Chuuya a bit more, his hands still by his side. And when they finally pull away from each other, seeing each other eye to eye, Chuuya sees the dullness in the brunette's eyes, and something about it hurts him. "I'm gonna tell the backup to take care of it," Dazai announces, strictly. "A bit surprised the huge group hasn't even seen us yet, but, let's go back." Both you and Chuuya nod at him in unison. 
                          
Dazai takes out his phone from his pocket, instantly dialing a number. 
                          
"Boss, we're leaving it."

                          
A/N: Thank you for 300  votes!