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Chuuya had glimpses of ultimate carnage and destruction, asphalt smoke and debris coating the place in ashes. He had felt the slivers of lustful wrath urging him to let go, to give up control. So for the first time, he listened. He followed the voice inside him and chanted lost words of sometime, hoping what was promised would save him and his partner both from the losing battle.The rest of his world was black and red after the cursed phrase.
"O grantors of dark disgrace, do not ever wake me again."
Arahabaki rose from dormancy and took over its vessel. The consciousness, alternatively called as Nakahara Chuuya, plunged deep into the trenches of sound - mind asleep from the dystopian reality. *** The arms tight around his waist, and the frozen whisper of "Don't, Chuuya," registered into him in the midst of numbing darkness and insanity. As soon as he gained consciousness of his own human body, Chuuya was tumbling down from the overwhelming pain, blood, and energy supposedly for a god, not for a 17 year old lad.Something, no, rather someone held him in place before descending towards the dusty pavement. His eyelids were too heavy to open and when he tried, blotches of red blinded him. So he gave up and closed them, trusted his other senses to work with him.The first scent he caught whiff was of rust, smoke, and distinct bandages. This, Chuuya was familiar of. The conclusion quickly dawned onto him as fast as his consciousness evaded him yet again. This, was Dazai, embracing him wholly. Chuuya woke up to the steady beeping of a heart monitor and fingers clamped around his wrist. Hazy memories resurfaced, of Kouyou and Mori surveying him in a new light, of Dazai ghostly pale looming by his side, of doctors injecting him drugs and suppressants every time he had cognisance of his surroundings and panic attacks."Fuck," He was about to facepalm but a weight at his wrist like iron cuffs stopped him. Chuuya tilted his drowsy head over his left flank only to see his partner latched onto his wrist while asleep. Seriously, you fucking clingy mackerel- Dazai spurred out of slumber and took a long, excruciating look at him. The action sent undesirable shivers down to his core and Chuuya did not know what to do with it."Hey, stop ogling-""You're Chuuya, right? My dog, my Chuuya?" He would have retaliated haphazardly by the possessive remark but Dazai's serious enough gaze rendered him frozen. Don't look at me like that. "What the fuck are you even talking about?!" Chuuya immediately yanked his wrist out of his partner’s hands. He noticed how the invisible tension upon Dazai's shoulders eased by his comment. Dazai sighed and smiled ruefully."I thought my dog didn't last long enough to dig me my grave.""You will be digging your own grave, not me, fucker."They fell into the familiar banter the two of them always lie in. Their childish arguments were easy, like breathing, it gave him room to forget why he was in the infirmary in the first place. Still, there was an elephant in the space between him and Dazai that sooner, or later, had to stomp on their partnership for good. Click clacking steps disturbed their momentous bubble of peace (or disturbed the heat of their debate on ensuring Dazai will be the one taking care of his own grave). Dazai's uplifted grin switched downwards and the warning was uttered before the door opened."Don't approach children for the meantime, Chuuya. You shouldn't be around them for a while.""What?""Well, I see Chuuya's awake now, Dazai-kun could have informed me as soon as it happened but he didn't." Mori, in a white doctor's coat, entered the room with red-dressed Elise behind him, the girl was carrying a basket of fruits in her hands. Elise placed the woven package by his sidetable beside a vase of violet aconites he only now heeded."Thank you, Miss Elise," Chuuya smiled pleasantries and all, "thank you, Boss, for visiting."Dazai showed his obvious disdain for the old man by just smirking and not even standing up for Mori to sit on the stool. "I don't think I need to tell you as you always check on Chuuya hour by hour like he was a treasure you're afraid to lose."Chuuya always noted the tenacious atmosphere between Dazai and Mori. It existed long before Chuuya was presented Rimbaud's hat to serve the Port Mafia. However, the underlying stress between the teacher and student was even more evident by the passing second. Elise tutted back towards her owner but Dazai reached out to her arm and in a blink of an eye, the Ability-produced girl was nowhere in sight. "Unruly child," Mori clicked his teeth at Dazai and walked by the end of Chuuya's bed. White gloved hands settled on the steel railing of the hospital bed."Do you remember anything, Chuuya?" Mori questioned him. He considered glancing at his partner before answering but that was simply ridiculous."No," He said. I do have ideas, though...Chuuya sensed the discomfort of his partner as Dazai's forefinger tapped on the mattress rhythmically. Either Mori didn't pay any attention to it or the leader never cared about it. "Perfect. Dazai-kun here will recall since he's the only one aware who survived the annihilation you caused."The silent order was there and Dazai was to loyally execute. Chuuya spent the next hour in the infirmary, helplessly hearing the wreckage born out of his own ability from the only boy who survived the ordeal other than him. Mori was downright cruel, because every time Dazai was speaking and refraining to spill more of the event, the Boss urged him more. The grotesque details of how many men died that night would forever be engraved in Chuuya's memory.As Dazai's story neared its end, the cottony blanket covering him was rumpled by his grappling. He reminisced Dazai's embrace and wondered whether that was just some sick hallucination or not. Demons like them didn't do affections nor intimacies. The three of them discoursed about the newfound extension of his ability. Its advantages and repercussions and how this trump card would entirely change the way their partnership works.There were the expected consequences upon the discovery of Corruption (Dazai named it, his partner's words, 'like the air was corrupted of space and everything.') -perhaps, Mori scrutinizing him like the doctor was performing vivisection was one of it.His untitled fear within the proximity of his own Boss increased tenfold as Mori surveyed him and Dazai back and forth. An ingenious plan deviously forming in those violet dilated irises. "Six in the evening, next week, Tuesday. I expect both of you at Training Ground 0." The succeeding nights at the clinic, Chuuya dreamt of a kid with messy brown and silver hair in half. Those wide, innocent eyes sparkled like shiny stars amidst the darkness of the area. The boy, couldn't be older than ten, introduced himself as Q."Nii-san, have you seen my doll?" Q asked, little head swaying around the corners of the room in search of the toy. "I don't like hospitals but my doll is lost."Chuuya couldn't help him no matter how much he wished. First, it was dark, the only source of light ever in there was from the moon by the window. It wasn't of any much help to them, considering the night sky was cloudy and it was only a half moon. Second, Chuuya couldn't get up from his bed, all the medical tubes and paraphernalia still attached to him."Oh!" The boy shrieked pointing beside him. "There it is!"Chuuya slowly turned his dimmed vision at his left side and was surprised to distinguish the doll there. The doll was exquisitely creepy in design, white bandages wrapped around a the bald head and big black round eyes. Not my type of toy. The bandages reminded him of a certain person, honestly, Q himself emitted an aura Chuuya was accustomed to. He just couldn't put his finger exactly on whose aura Q had. The seven, or maybe eight year old kid hopped to claim the doll, tripping over his own feet in the process. Luckily, Chuuya got the kid with his needleless arm before he cascaded to the cold hard tiles. The child was a bit heavier than Chuuya calculated, or was he just too weak at the moment? Q gathered himself and the tiny hat which dropped earlier on and thanked Chuuya. Chuuya seized the unsettling toy by his side and handed it down to Q instead."Thank you, Dazai-nii's friend, we should play as soon as you get out of here." His astonishment at the title, and the out of the blue peck on his cheek from Q was shown through his enlarged cerulean pupils and noiseless gasp.Somehow, Chuuya was even more rattled by the fact that Q smelled of iron, blood, and distinct bandages.
***
When he roused up to his senses, Dazai was shaking him. "You were screaming, Chuuya."
Tuesday
18:05 PM
Training Ground 0, Port Mafia HQ Bldg. A
“There is no mercy in the Mafia, Chuuya-kun,” Mori inched lower to his level, lips almost kissing the back of his earlobe.What Mori was inferring to, Chuuya tasted on the tip of his tongue and resisted the urge to vomit it out.In a hall specifically constructed for child soldiers like him and his partner, he deducted the inevitable. White walls, white silence, with a white old doctor and black, dirty boys murky in sins too many for the ignorant to wince at. This wasn't his first time here, yet why was he foolishly hoping for a different outcome? One that wasn't stained viciously red with scars never meant to heal. The Boss’s white clothed hands touched his shoulders, his quick stiffening detected. Chuuya swallowed his breaths too sharply as if collecting his panic inside his lungs. His dry lips quivered not from the air conditioned units but from the premonition of what was about to transpire here. Even Elise's presence was missed in this desolate corner, but Mori never brought the lolita girl. The Boss mentioned how the field would never be for his pure pretty Elise.He averted his anxiousness towards the figure shackled to a metal chair in front of him. Whenever they stepped foot in this rust chilled area, they always seemed foreign and alien to each other.Chuuya choked down the guilt threatening to encompass him and yet he could never tame those shudders escaping. Mori expertly massaged the knotted parts of his back where the shoulder blades and vertebra converged. “I have brought someone that will help you.” The leader of Port Mafia offered sweetly as if granting candies to children.The looming shadow vanished behind him together with the pressure. Chuuya unclenched the fists he never recalled of balling. He observed as Dazai's apathetic eye trailed on the former doctor. The instant changes from soulless to recognition and lastly, innate fear exposed in the lone cinnamon iris. The thud of the emergency exit closing together with nostalgic childlike giggles echoed.His trapped partner struggled harshly out of the bounds, the repeated clanging of chains almost akin to the signal of a death bell. Chuuya expertly translated the message mouthed by Dazai.
“Stay away from-“
Noises of shredding and ripping cloth forcibly overpowered his auditory. The air cackled of apprehension and danger around the short mafioso as he could not hear his partner anymore. Chuuya shut his eyelids and bit the flesh on the inside of his cheek.
I'm scared.
Dazai's scared of the person laughing behind me.
Arahabaki thrummed wildly in his veins, joyful and alive. Chuuya was tempted to peek behind him, but dread won over curiosity so he stayed obediently in the position Mori abandoned him in. His continuous rapid heartbeat ready to burst out of his chest in a snap. Chuuya unraveled his sight, frantically searching for Dazai's presence. Because goddammit, that lanky bastard needed to explain what exactly was happening right now. Time to use that know-it-all brain and tell him what the fuck's going on.What met Chuuya's pleading queries was Dazai standing tall and chuckling mad like the man wasn't tied up in a stool minutes earlier. A delirious glint blossomed in Dazai’s eye as the Demon Prodigy at the tender age of 16 snapped his fingers. The metal cuffs around the wrists of the rumoured future Executive disabled without problems.Shivers which had the hairs of his skin electrified shot up as the aura Dazai exhumed darkened in heavy madness.
What are you going to do, idiot-!
"Chuuya," Wrong, wrong, wrong.His partner's voice was temptation incarnate enough to hypnotize him in one call. He drew a few hesitant steps back until his spine hit a solid physique. When he scanned up behind him, Mori Ougai stared directly into his soul. All his traumas and weaknesses vulnerably displayed. Nothing was ever right as Mori had his tone too honeyed at the upcoming command.“What were you waiting for, Chuuya-kun?” Mori motioned his hands over Dazai in the middle of the room.His fists weighed like sandbags and he couldn't lift them. The sound of Dazai's laughter was coming to a crescendo and Chuuya almost couldn't recognize Dazai. “Let’s kill Mori!” The Boss’s most precious student exclaimed at him with lanky arms spread apart. As if inviting him to a simple dinner at a famous restaurant.The uninvited guest chortled again, Chuuya had no time to check on who it was as flashes of past traumatic memories slew his mind. His head spun, the laughter became a buzzing white noise in the background. Chuuya inhaled the scent of asphalt smoke and debris, ashes clung to his vibrating skin. The slivers of lustful wrath crawled onto him again, urging him to let go of control. All he could perceive was red and black. Red, and red, and black. Red. Black. Black. Black. Rust, smoke, and bandages. The rustic smell of blood, the black color of smoke, and the white distinct bandages.He remembered Dazai, his partner, with horror in his eye, embracing him despite the fights, the hate and everything else in between them. He remembered Q, kissing his cheek and hugging that doll of his with twinkling eyes. He remembered Mori, examining him like the surgeon was slicing his body open in an attempt to take out the god inhibiting him.His hands were viscously wet and bloodied as the number of those he murdered rang repeatedly in his head. 158. 158 casualties on a single night, all because of an ability within his ability. And Dazai was the only one who witnessed all the ultimate carnage and destruction. Forever ingrained in his partner's brain. Stop, stop, stop, stop, please stop, stop, STOP- Chuuya stumbled and knelt on the floor, grasping for anything stable enough to ground himself as everything went in circles.His consciousness was back in Training Ground 0 and Chuuya contemplated whether being back to reality was any better. Mori stood behind his very own successor, a scalpel in his thumb and forefinger. The blade positioned threateningly near Dazai’s vital veins around the neck. Teacher and student both gawked at him and Chuuya just wanted to disappear.“He’s going to kill me, Chuuya!” Dazai screamed, the hidden command underlying the statement.“Haven’t you sworn your loyalty to me, Chuuya-kun?” Mori's expression was wicked and sadistic. He was sure this would be a new nightmare for the years to come.“Everything will stop once Mori disappears!”“A broken jaw and three bullets in the chest for a traitor.”“YOU DON’T WANT THIS ANYMORE, DO YOU?”The promising cries were too much for a 17 year adolescent like him. Dazai’s desperate face as Mori’s knife skimmed terribly closer above the bandaged windpipe. This had been going on for too long and only Chuuya had the power to save them both. His mind blanked out of any thoughts, decided and precise for his next course of actions. He launched from his position, pushing Dazai away from Mori's grip. He was fast, too fast for the old man to retaliate. His ebony gloved fingers crushed Mori’s throat, on the exact body part where Mori drew his scalpel too close to Dazai’s lifeline. It was only a matter of hard-pressing minutes as Chuuya pinned the Boss of the Port Mafia down the the cold ceramic pavement. Raw strength and ability rendering the middle-aged man ceaseless of any movements. Mori tried elevating himself but For The Tainted Sorrow's gravity tripled on power.The thought of this man about to steal away the only person able to touch Chuuya at his worst topped above anything else.Mori’s violet irises rolled up, and in seconds, his news of breathing and living was ultimately no more.He panted, as if the oxygen he stripped their leader away of could be salvaged. Three claps reverberated the Training Ground 0 and Chuuya twisted to the source. Dazai trudged towards him, and knelt to his height. The second his partner embraced his quaking form, the spell he was in broke and set him free.In a single touch, truth and reality dawned. In actuality, Dazai was physically and brutally wounded, still a prisoner in the chair just as before. There were new additions to him, the blood coating the lad, the bandages not enough to absorb it. Red, ruby, bloody red painted the stool, the bandages, and every white thing surrounding Dazai. The wooden fistfuls of brunette hair strayed in various directions. The viscous fluid poured from the lower lobe of Dazai’s purple bruised lips. It dripped from the skeletal-like form of his partner and were the circumstances any different, Chuuya would have guffawed at the atrocity. Dazai never desired a messy death. Chuuya relished on his own appearance, the worst concluding in truth of what traversed the last hour. His left hand was missing its glove and his right glove had blotched holes in its cloth. Both pair muddied with a burgundy substance. Chuuya didn’t need his sense of smell to confirm the iron stench hovering his own scent. There was no point in referring to himself as a human anymore.He screamed—Dazai was tethering unconscious.He glanced behind—-Mori held Q by his side. Unregrettable smiles pasted upon their features."W-who are you?!" Chuuya indicted at Q. He was trembling nonstop, he didn't know if he'll ever recover.
It’s all my fault.
"My name is Yumeno Kyusaku," Q grinned, "My ability is called Dogra Magra."He remembered Dazai's warning too late. This was the child he was supposedly avoiding. This was the kid Dazai was protecting him from.Chuuya accounted Dazai’s neck. He accounted the sore handprints in the size of his own marking the pale skin.
What have I done?
He screamed again, making sure the entire Training Ground 0 shook with it, but it was never enough for his partner to wake up.
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
The distance between the pair stretched on for days and disappearances, Chuuya filling the gap with alcohol and nicotine in hopes to erase the memory, the pain, the-He quickly took a swig of the cold whisky settled on the table by the waiter moments ago. A glass of Johnnie Walker a normal teenager couldn't afford on any basis. There was nothing normal in me, anyway. There is a god inside me, I work for the most vicious organization, my partner is the Dazai Osamu, the Demon Prodigy.
My partner, who I should always keep alive.
My partner, whom I have hurt in more ways than one.
If Chuuya was latching onto the sense of normalcy their partnership provided alone, he was very foolish since the beginning.A single glass won't do anymore, Chuuya raised his gloved fingers and tipped for the bartender. He signalled for a purchase of the bottle he was drinking, the old man by the counter understanding the gestures instantly. Sooner than later, his previous waiter arrived with a Black Label and bucket of ice.The night would be long and merry, every shot he takes would be an attempt to shut the screams away. He almost succeeded in erasing the existence of a certain mackerel from his brain but the bastard always managed to leave evidence Chuuya unluckily stumbled upon.Maybe Chuuya himself was to blame, of all prominent bars Port Mafia owned, he chose Lupin's.He blamed his tipsy ass for forgetting this was the place where Dazai spent some leisure time in. The bar often frequented by two people the Demon Prodigy strangely connected with.The conversation between the round-glasses informant and scarlet-haired run man reached his ears.
"Looks like Dazai won't come again, Odasaku."
He didn't expect Dazai's so-called 'friends' lounging by the counter. Chuuya lowered the tip of his black fedora down to cover his recognisable eyes. Or maybe to hide himself from the guilt once again, yet familiarly, consuming his being.
"It's been a month, have you heard of anything?"
Chuuya himself embodied the entire reason why their precious drinking friend went MIA for the last few weeks.He gritted his teeth in order to subdue the urge of punching the nearest wall. No matter how far from Yokohama the redhead might go, he could never escape his partner's bloodied tears and breathless form. Sleep won't relieve him of the unwanted experience, sleep would only drag him back to that sterilised training ground, the cursed child cackling at his predicament.He remembered his untouched hard liquor back at his apartment, waiting to be tasted by any sorrowful tongue. The mafioso decided his alcoholic sessions would resume once he arrived at his house. Time to chug those bottles and witness if he’d meet the Devil halfway.Chuuya turned and exited the buzzing place, never paying attention again to the discoursing pair worried for their missing friend.He wondered if he would regret this abrupt move, trailing back to the lonely loft Dazai hadn't visited for days. In the midst of what he supposed his blacked-out slumber, since no nightmares had resurfaced, Chuuya was disturbed by the ringing alarm of his own personal mobile phone. He tried to ignore whatever the fuck his phone was acting up for. Maybe his alcohol-induced mind could help tune out the constant noise.
Beep, beep. Vzzzzzzt. Beep, beep. Vzzzzzt. Beep-
The phone was persistent, and his throbbing head never worked with him.His hand blindly flailed for his phone at the center table. A glass knocking down the carpet later on, Chuuya finally got ahold of his outrageous blaring device. The closer he brought it to his face, the more sounds contributed to his growing hangover headache.Chuuya begrudgingly unfurled his stone-weight eyelids and winced at the too white bright screen amidst the dark living room he passed out in. His periphery adjusted first before comprehending what reminder glared from the gadget.He pressed unlock to the phone's keypads, its annoying alarm and vibration halting.He couldn't care less about the notification at first glance.
June 19
- Slug's birthday.
So what if it was that idiot's birthday, why did he even mark down this date?Chuuya sat up as the realization struck him lighting-shock, the sudden movement paved way for his pain to rush all over his head again. This pain, alright, was nothing compared to what his partner suffered through by his hands. Even with the consequences of excessive drinking and smoking pumping in his blood, Chuuya grabbed his keys and sprinted from his apartment to a destination he already memorized its directions of.Despite a god dwelling inside him, Chuuya was never one for prayers.As Chuuya cheated with gravity in order to run faster though, he pleaded he wasn't any second late. Compared to the scene Chuuya arrived at last year, this was never any better. If only, it was worse. Dazai was way worse than before, and Chuuya chalked it up to himself as one of the reasons his partner was degrading.Last year, at the exact same night and place, worried as heck because Dazai was dissociating, Chuuya discovered where the rapid disengagement led to.Last year, Dazai was sprawled on the wooden floor, a bottle of unprescribed medicine next to his lolling head. A red ribbon tied to the neck of the bottle with a tag written:
Happy Birthday, Dazai.
-M.
Chuuya had never forgotten since then.This year, at the pitch blackest of midnight and silence, Chuuya heard his pulse drumming from his chest, his heart aching to burst out.This year, Dazai was hung on the ceiling, a rope around his neck.
Happy fucking birthday.
Instead, Chuuya greeted:“You reek of Death, bastard.”Whether Chuuya greeted a human corpse or a breathing demon, he was unaware of. His subconscious wishing for the latter rather than the former was blatantly ignored. The rest of his actions were done before he even registered, his priorities of getting Dazai’s body to safety first and foremost than his own emotions.The blade of his dagger darted above Dazai’s peaceful face, splitting the rope in two. The redhead immediately leapt forward to embrace the falling debacle which was his partner.Dazai was a featherweight in his arms and despite Chuuya lacking centimetres in height, he never had trouble carrying the mackerel.He fixed Dazai comfortably on the cushioned sofa. His middle and forefinger pressed on the point between jaw and neck, the unnoticed knot on his shoulders loosened at the first hint of pulse. A weak one Chuuya might never recognize had he not pressed further.The short lad drew exhaustive breaths before the adrenaline wore off and forced him to the ground. His hand clutched on Dazai's polyester pants to allow himself a grip over what their reality was. His cerulean eyes zeroed on the wooden tiles, so many questions outpouring unanswered.How many times? How many fucking times would they have to go through this? How many scars should litter their skin until Mori decided it was enough? How many more suicide attempts would Chuuya have to stop until then? How many nights would he have to spend just to forget?
How many times do I have to deny that...
I need you, Dazai, to stay alive.
“Slug, you reek too much, your scent woke me up.”Dazai's voice was less in volume than usual.“Dazai,” Chuuya tilted upwards to get a better view of his partner’s existence, Dazai was looking down on him, and for once, those rusty irises looked lost. “How long will we go on like this?”He could have blamed the remnants of liquor and nicotine in his system for the inhibited moment of vulnerability. But Chuuya didn't want this cycle of self-destruction and hatred to last for ages. The twisted mindset of torture for trust, children for experiments, and partners for punching bags.Here they were, still working, and still hurting.Maybe Chuuya understood Mori’s objectives clearer as the months entailed. Mori Ougai was definitely an effective leader for ensnaring his two stubborn subordinates in a toxic partnership they would never be rid of.Two lanky arms encircled his little kneeling form, the vehement train of thoughts subsiding in haste.“Chuuya, let me go,” Dazai’s tone was resigned, defeated and particularly decisive as he murmured the next set of words.“This is the only way.”If by this, Dazai meant Death, then Chuuya will have none of it.
I can’t lose you.
“No!” His eyes stung and his head pounded even more, “there has to be another—““Aren’t you cruel, chibi, prolonging this chain of pain?” Dazai palmed his cheeks. Chuuya shivered from the fingers that were cold as ice, belonging to his partner.“You’re hurting yourself in the process too.”He'd rather hurt himself than let Dazai go. “I’m sorry.”As pathetic and shameful the exchange was, Chuuya laid bare his pride, barriers, and everything which separated them.There was no use for hiding behind walls between towers when the only thing they were allowed to do was stick through this Hell together.He hid his cowered expression on Dazai’s vacant lap, his bare fingertips skidding through the upholstered seat. A bandaged hand entangled in his and another removed his hat in place of combing his mane. If this was any ordinary day, Chuuya must've shrieked angrily and evaded Dazai’s touches. "...That child uses mind control, right?""Yes. Q induces hallucinations for his prey to fall under to.""You asked me to kill Mori there." You were so cold and empty back there. Chuuya felt Dazai's fingers skid to a halt in threading his hair."Did I? What did you do then?" Dazai whispered. "I did what you would have done if I asked." The petting gesture resumed and Chuuya sighed in the soothing affection."I understand."Chuuya knew Dazai did. The fading handprints on Dazai's neck was evidence of what Chuuya had done for him. The future was drawing near and uncertain, they didn't know how far Mori would pull them deep into the abyss next. There was only one thing Chuuya took assurance of in their dark, mad world. Destined for Hell, or revolution, Chuuya held Dazai's hand in his.
You and I must survive, or everything else be damned.