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ᡣ𐭩 THE GROUND FINDS ITS BRUTAL WAY TO ME

FEATURING: dazai osamu

SUMMARY: the moment you've been dreading has finally arrived—there's no turning back now.

AUTHOR'S NOTES: GOOOOOOOOD EVENING LOVEBUGS, HAPPY FRIDAY!!! anyway i hope you guys are excited for this chapter because i AM chapter seven through nine is the reason i started writing this fic, it all goes downhill from here HAHAHAHAHAHAH JKKKKKKK kind of BUT ANYWAY i hope you guys enjoyed, im having the time of my life writing this chapter and the other upcoming ones. im so excited for you guys to read chapter 9 actually and the end of chapter 8, it's gonna be soooo good i swear. anyway!! reblogs and comments greatly appreciated as always!! ENJOY heheh!

GENERAL WARNINGS: fem!reader, port mafia executive!reader, civilian!dazai, dazai's struggles w suicide & sh, reader partakes in mafia business, dazai isn't dazai without a bit of obsessiveness and possessiveness (the possessiveness doesn't come til later but the obsessiveness starts from day 0).

CHAPTER SPECIFIC WARNINGS: hardly edited - i've been busy. MAFIA BUSINESS. rather graphic depictions of violence. character death (not anyone major). mentions of human/child trafficking. depictions of dissociation. i used a bit of creative liberty with the depictions of lovecraft, corruption (here in particular), and yosano's ability.

ANOTHER THING TO NOTE: our lovely reader IS A MAFIA EXECUTIVE !! as a port mafia executive, she does port mafia things, this will become very apparent in this chapter and the rest of the upcoming chapters. it hasn't been as apparent in the past few, so it might be a bit jarring to read (especially when we get to chapter 9) but it is something to keep in mind. additionally, she is FLAWED and that is very apparent with how she acts with a certain member of the ada. i wanted to add this warning just to give you all a bit of a heads up.

SEE: WASTELAND, BABY! SERIES MASTERLIST

Your foot presses the pedal against the floor as you race down the backstreets of the Kanagawa prefecture. Dazai has been trying to talk to you but you can’t even bring yourself to respond to him. You try but you’re incapable of pushing any words past your lips. He asks you where you’re going and your lips part to tell him but you can’t. He asks you if you’re okay and you try to say ‘I don’t know’ but all that escapes you is a shaky breath. He asks you what’s going on but your mind is on the brink of collapse.

You’re not going to get there in time.

You can hardly keep your eyes on the road and at the speed you’re going, you know you can’t afford to look away. But you can’t stop yourself from looking down at your phone, throat clogged with fear as you wait to see if Chuuya sends another text. You told him not to, told him to wait but he hasn’t even read your text, doesn’t know that you weren’t in Yokohama when he was about to use Corruption.

If he used Corruption as soon as he texted you thinking that you were in the area… it’s already been fifteen minutes. Chuuya has never used Corruption longer than five. He’d be ash and bone by the time you get there if he already activated it. You’re still at least ten minutes away from where he pinned his location even at the speed you’re going.

“Fuck,” you whisper, slamming your hand against the wheel as you urge the car to go faster, watching the speedometer wobble in the red zone. “Fuck, fuck, fuck.”

“Can you talk to me at least?” Dazai tries again, sounding frustrated. “What’s going on? Why did we have to rush out of the beach house?”

You don’t even know why Dazai is with you.

Well, that’s not true. You know exactly why Dazai is with you. There’s a sick feeling in your gut that leads you to believe that the Guild might know about Dazai already and if that’s the case, you can’t leave him alone at the beach house. You don’t think the Guild would have planned such a blatant attack on the Port Mafia without ulterior motives and with even the smallest reason to believe that their primary goal might be getting their hands on Dazai to back you into a corner… You just can’t risk it.

But you’re risking bringing him to a battlefield where Chuuya might have activated Corruption. You try to convince yourself that he’s safer at your side than he is alone but… is that even true? Chuuya under the effects of Corruption is unpredictable and destructive, you can’t ensure his safety—you can’t even ensure your own. Every time he goes into Corruption, it’s both his life and yours that are most at risk, it’s why he rarely lets himself use it even when in trouble, so that’s how you know things must be bad.

“You’re not going to get wherever you’re trying to get to if you crash the car into a tree,” Dazai says airly, still irritated from how he’s side-eyeing you but none too bothered by the speed you’re racing down windy streets. “How about you slow down and tell me what’s going on?”

You let out a sharp puff of air. You don’t slow down, but you do force yourself to speak.

“Chuuya is in trouble. Bad trouble,” you finally say tightly. “The Guild… They launched an attack. I don’t… he might already be dead for all I know. I have to get to him—couldn’t leave you alone in case…”

“In case the attack was just a distraction to try to get to me?” Dazai finishes for you—as always, too quick and perceptive for a random college student. “Shouldn’t you try to figure out a game plan before, I don’t know, rushing head first into what might be a trap?”

He’s far too sarcastic for your liking. You give him a cold look and to his credit, he does back down for the most part, but he’s still waiting for a response from you.

“I have a plan,” you finally say, gnawing at the inside of your cheek. “I just…”

Need to know the situation. If Chuuya has already activated Corruption, you need to get to him as soon as possible. If Chuuya is dead, you need to figure out which other members of the Mafia are around so you can figure out how to deal with the remaining enemy—although if they killed Chuuya, your chances of winning are bleak. If Chuuya is still alive and hasn’t activated Corruption, you need to figure out the best course of action to take to prevent him from having to activate it. Without knowing the situation, you might as well be walking blind into a lion’s den.

“What do you need me to do?” Dazai asks quietly.

“Stay out of the way,” you say too sharply. Your eyes flit to the side when Dazai winces and shifts back a bit, slowing down just a little to remove one hand from the wheel to grab his and squeeze it gently. “The Flags should be there too… At least Albatross, Iceman and Piano Man… Doc is probably off the field waiting for injuries. You know Albatross—he was the one with me at your apartment and in mine the day you came over while I was drunk—get to him, he’ll bring you to wherever Doc is. If you can’t get to him, Klaus and Akutagawa are on their way… might be there already, get to one of them and they’ll get you somewhere safer.”

Dazai doesn’t look pleased by your directives but he nods.

“What if… what if I can’t get to anybody?” he questions hesitantly after a few moments.

Your eyes meet his for a split second before you let out a heavy breath. You don’t really want to consider what to do if he can’t get to someone because that means he’ll be in much more danger than you’re willing to accept. After a few moments, you nod to the glove box, watching from the corner of your eye as he opens it and freezes up a bit when he sees the gun inside.

“Only use it if you have to,” you tell him quietly, “and if you have to use it…”

Aim for the head, you want to say, but you can’t push the words out because fuck, what have you dragged him into? A few months ago, his biggest problem was figuring out what he was going to use as inspiration for his fucking writing workshop project and now you’re telling him to shoot to kill if someone comes after him while he’s alone and vulnerable.

Chuuya was right. Chuuya was right and you’re a goddamn fool for not listening to him. You should have cut Dazai off right away, right when you realized things were going too far, you never should have let this happen. You knew better.

You knew better.

“I’ll do what I have to.” Dazai nods, throat bobbing as he keeps a steady face, clearly trying to make himself seem unbothered when he sees how distressed you are. You watch as he fumbles to click off the safety of the gun. “It’s okay.”

“You won’t have to do anything,” you say tightly, gaze snapping to the side when ground beneath the car shakes violently and a loud crashing noise comes from the left. Your eyes focus on a dirt path leading deeper into the forests on the outskirts of the Kanagawa prefecture and grimace before taking a sharp left. “But keep it on you just in case.”

Dazai nods, letting out a long breath, dark eyes darting around nervously as you turn off the car’s headlights to continue down the dirt road more inconspicuously. You don’t get more than half a mile before you have to pull over onto the side of the road when you hear fighting in the distance—explosive and dangerous. You stop Dazai before he opens the door to get out of the car and he looks at you curiously, waiting to see what you have to say.

For a moment, you contemplate telling him to wait in the car for you but you can’t, because if anyone happens upon the car then he’ll be alone and vulnerable. So, instead, you reach forward and cup his cheek. His lashes flutter as he leans into your touch and you run your thumb along his cheekbone, watching him with a heavy feeling in your chest.

This is all your fault.

You brought him into this life.

You let them back you into a corner like this.

You ruined his life.

It’s all your fault. You let this happen.

“Get to Albatross,” you say, hating the way your voice cracks. “To Albatross, or Iceman, or Piano Man. Get to one of them and let them get you out of here, okay?”

He nods, keeping his face pressed to your hand as he looks up at you through his lashes. “I will.”

“Doc will probably be three miles out from where the combat is taking place. Whoever you get to—the two of you will head there on foot, they’ll tell you what to do and make sure there’s no one tailing you guys, but you’ll have to be quick.”

Dazai gives you a small, wavering smile. “I almost failed my phys ed class in high school because I couldn’t complete the mile fast enough.”

You snort. “I can’t believe you actually just admitted that out loud.”

Dazai smiles sweetly and then says, “Kiss me before we go?”

Your lips curve up gently as you lean in to press your lips against his. You feel him let out a soft, pleased sigh but even with your lips moving slowly against each other, you can’t help but feel the dread build more and more in your chest.

You pull back to look him in the eyes again as you whisper, “Be careful.”

“No you,” Dazai says with a simpering smile as he leans in so he can brush his nose against yours. For a moment, he looks as if he wants to say something but then he seals his lips shut and gives you another soft smile.

I’m sorry, you want to say but the words just don’t come out. You think Dazai must know what you’re trying to say from the way he squeezes your hand. It’s all too soon and all too long before you push yourself away from him and step out of the car.

The brisk early morning air is almost uncomfortable as you breathe it in. You usually find it refreshing—you like the morning, you’re always more productive at dawn even if most nights you find yourself up until the moon sets in the west trying to get work done. But now, you only find discomfort, a tight feeling in your chest and a prickly feeling across your skin. Your hair stands on end as you reach for the gun holstered at your side, flicking off the safety as Dazai comes to stand next to you.

“Stay behind me,” you tell him quietly.

You can hear the fighting in the near-distance. Can feel it. You can hear the sounds of gunshots and people yelling, some voices you recognize as the Flags and others you don’t recognize at all. The ground is shaking—undoubtedly proof of Chuuya using his ability and you can only let out a sigh of relief now, realizing that he must not have activated Corruption yet.

If he had, the entire forest would be obliterated.

You motion for Dazai to follow you. He’s light on his feet—lighter than you expected from a twenty two year old college student—he’s careful not to step on any twigs and stays close behind you, each step finding where yours had lifted from the ground as soon as you move from it.

You make your way in the direction of the shouting and fighting. Every step forward leaves you more and more ridden with dread—your feet feel heavy like weights are holding you down, your mouth feels like it’s filled with ash. You should be moving faster than you are—your friends, Chuuya, they’re in danger but… but the closer you get, the closer Dazai is to danger.

What are you doing? You think desperately. What are you doing?

You doubt yourself.

You doubt yourself so much that a part of you deep down wants to turn on your heel and drag Dazai back to safety, out of danger, out of this shitty forest, out of your life. It’s not worth it—your happiness isn’t worth his life. He’s convinced himself that he cares about you, that he needs you, that you make him happy but you know it’s not true. You know it’s just your ability at work.

But it’s too late now.

The distant shouts have become near—you see Albatross, Piano Man, and Iceman all crouched beneath rubble, grimacing as they dodge… you don’t know what they’re dodging and quite frankly, you don’t think you want to know but you don’t think you’re going to have a choice.

You don’t even spare a look to the battlefield, reaching back to grab Dazai’s wrist so you can drag him in front of you, pressing your hand to his lower back to make him move faster. You only just barely get him down beneath the metal that the three Flags are using as cover before another… thing (a tentacle?) is snapping out toward you—luckily, Iceman is quick to the draw as always and prevents it from taking off your head.

Piano Man yanks Dazai closer to him, away from the edge of the rubble, and Albatross wraps an arm around your waist with a wild smile. “There ya are, dollface, we’ve been waiting on you.”

Your eyes linger on Dazai for a split second, seeing the wide-eyed expression on his face and how his knuckles are white around the grip of the gun you gave him. The guilt claws to your throat again but you force it away as you focus your attention on Albatross.

“Tell me the situation,” you say, voice rougher than you intended. “What’s happening?”

“The fuckin’ Americans lured us out here,” Iceman says, taking a long drag of his cigarette before laying back down flat against the ground, eye looking through the scope and chin pressed to the stock of the sniper rifle as he prepares for another shot. “There’s only two of them but something’s wrong with one of ‘em.”

“What does that mean?” you demand, looking between Iceman, Albatross and Piano Man. Albatross grimaces and looks away, Piano Man meets your gaze. Iceman pulls the trigger to the gun and Dazai cringes at the sharp noise, but you have to focus on Piano Man’s response over trying to comfort him.

“It won’t die,” Piano Man says, the characteristically whimsical tone to his voice long gone, face pinched. “No matter what we hit it with.”

“I’m sorry?” you ask, staring at Piano Man blankly as you wait for him to elaborate.

“It won’t die,” Albatross repeats, looking equally stressed as he manhandles you to face the other direction, looking in the direction of the battlefield where Chuuya is in combat with an unfamiliar black-haired man whose arms seem to have transformed into tentacles whipping around at a lethal speed, the dismembered bodies of his subordinates littered in pieces across the forest floor. “He has a partner who has taken cover in the forest too. Can manipulate trees. Can’t fucking get to him because of the tentacle monster.”

You suddenly wish you never left the beach house.

“What the fuck,” you breathe out, watching as the man (man?) grows tentacles to reattach his head to his shoulders after a devastating blow from Chuuya that should have sent his head flying. “Where-”

Movement from the corner of your eye catches your attention and your head snaps to the side to focus on where four people—one very unfortunately familiar—are taking cover in the tree line, talking frantically amongst each other.

“Yeah,” Albatross mutters, shoulder pressed to yours as he follows your gaze. “The Agency showed up too. We don’t know why, haven’t been able to get over there because of fuckin’ Woody Woodpecker over there.”

“Steinbeck,” you say, voice sounding distant even to your own ears as your eyes tunnel in on Yosano Akiko, the same woman who has been haunting you for over a decade now. God, you’ll never be free of her, of the reminder of your inadequacy. You have to force yourself to look back at the situation at hand. “John Steinbeck. The Grapes of Wrath. An executive of the Guild. Big in the US farming industry but that’s just about-”

“We don’t need an info dump on him, Christ, how do we kill him?” Iceman says dryly and you give him a withering look.

“I was getting to that,” you reply icily. “The vines he controls. They and anything they attach to are extensions of himself, meaning if you attack them…”

“It harms him,” Iceman finishes, the corner of his lips curling up into a slow smirk. “Got it.”

You look over to Albatross. “What types of weapons do you have on you?”

Albatross winks at you. “What don’t I have on me?”

“Can you smoke him out?”

“For you, dollface, I can do anything.”

You roll your eyes but grimace as Chuuya is knocked backward hard, blood spilling from his mouth as he takes a violent hit from the black-haired man that you don’t recognize. He looks exhausted, you wonder how long he’s been fighting trying to protect the Flags and the guilt that’s been hanging over you like a dark cloud intensifies.

“If we can’t figure out any weaknesses, Chuuya is probably going to have to use Corruption against that thing,” you say quietly. “... We need to make sure there are no interfering factors before he activates it to make sure his time in Corruption is as short as possible. We draw out Steinbeck, I’ll go out there and get information from him. Once we kill him, we figure out if those detectives are allies or enemies today. Handle them if they’retheir enemies. Then, you guys need to get the fuck out of the area.”

You need Dazai out of here, you think, teeth grinding together as you look between the forest, the fight between Chuuya and that monster, and then to Dazai, whose face is white and eyes are trained on you, as if he’s trying to keep himself calm by training his attention on the only person in the vicinity that he knows he can trust. You want to reach out and grab his hand but you can’t move.

Piano Man squeezes your shoulder. “As soon as Steinbeck is handled, I’ll get him to Doc. I don't want to bring him through the forest while Steinbeck can pretty much control it.”

You nod and then look at Albatross. His lips curl into a crooked grin as he holds up his fist to you. “Ready? Gotta be quick once I’ve got him panicked running out of the treeline otherwise he’ll get to that fuckin’ squid and we’ll lose our chance.”

You bump your fist against his. “I know what I’ve got to do. You better not fuck up.”

“When have I ever?”

“Too many times to count.”

“... Rude.”

Albatross heads off without another word and you watch with bated breath, waiting for Steinbeck to flee the forest so you can make your move. You’ll have to be careful of the stray tentacles unless you want to lose a limb or two, but you trust Iceman to cover you and you know Chuuya will figure out what you’re trying to do so he’ll be quick to adjust accordingly.

But it just… has too far of a range. The tentacles can reach too far, too quickly. As powerful as Chuuya is, he can’t be in two places at once, so someone else needs to take over the right flank while he handles the left so there are no openings for it to get to you while you interrogate Steinbeck…

As Albatross heads in his direction, you head in your own direction, darting from your safe cover with the other two Flags and Dazai over to where the four detectives are taking cover. Yosano is the first one to look at you, a conflicted expression on her face as she stares at you. You can’t even bring yourself to look her in the eye, instead focusing your attention on the blonde.

“Are you here as enemies or allies?” you ask tightly, getting straight to the point because it’s only a matter of time before Albatross smokes out Steinbeck.

“Until that thing is dead, it’s the enemy,” the blonde says, raising his chin. “We’re here to protect Yokohama.”

You scoff—he says that as if you guys aren’t, you think bitterly, but you don’t have the time to argue. Instead, you nod in the direction of where Albatross left. “One of my comrades went to draw out the Guild member hiding in the trees. Once he’s out, I’m going after him to figure out its weakness. Chuuya can’t handle the right and left flank at the same time, the thing has too wide of a range and he can’t be in two places at once. You guys need to hold off the right flank while he holds off the left so I can get the information from Steinbeck.”

The blonde looks disgruntled by the order, and certainly doesn’t seem pleased by the prospect of working with the Port Mafia, but he steels his face and nods, evidently more concerned with the threat that the monstrous man-creature in the center of the clearing poses more than you and the Mafia.

Yosano says your name quietly, but Albatross finishes the job just in time so you don’t have to acknowledge her—as quick and efficient as ever. As much as you give him shit for everything, he’s always been the most reliable to get the job done. It takes not more than five minutes before the entire northern sector of the forest is burning and John Steinbeck is stumbling from the shrubs, pain twisted on his face as he gasps for air and coughs over the smoke clogging his lungs.

You strike just as quickly to get to Steinbeck before his partner can get him back somewhere safe behind him; he darted out close to where Piano Man, Iceman and Dazai are still taking cover. The blonde doesn’t even see you coming because of the way he keeps rubbing at his eyes. You kick his ankles out from under him hard and drive your foot into his back, slamming his head hard against a flat rock to stun him.

You grab him by the hair to flip him onto his back and press the muzzle of your gun beneath his chin before he can reorient himself. His eyes are still partially glazed over when you drive your knee into his chest and settle above him, giving him a sweet smile.

“You must be Steinbeck,” you say lightly, “I’ve learned a lot about you recently.”

Steinbeck’s expression twists when he recognizes you and instantly, you’re met with a faceful of blood as he spits it on your face. You click your tongue in disgust and whip the barrel of your gun against his jaw, watching his eyes bulge in pain as you wipe the blood off of your face.

“You’re going to tell me all about your friend over there,” you tell him, voice cool. “Don’t make this more difficult than it has to be.”

“I’m not telling you anything,” Steinbeck hisses, cringing at the pain that blooms through him when he speaks. “You and your friends are done. Lovecraft can’t be killed. You’re going to join the rest of your subordinates in pieces on the ground.”

“For your sake,” you murmur, sending Chuuya your silent thanks when he positions himself between you and Lovecraft, “that better not be true.”

“I was told you were cruel, but it’s so kind of you to be worried about my wellbeing,” Steinbeck says, lips slanted upward in a smile too arrogant for your liking, leading you to believe you’re really not going to like what he’s about to say next. You’re proven correct swiftly. “Especially when you really should be worrying about yourself and your little friend over there now that our leader, Francis, has confirmation about his existence. I was also told you were smart, but this was a bit of a silly move on your part, hm?”

You raise your chin, careful to not let your sudden distress show on your face as you look down at him blankly.

Is that what this is all about? Was it not them setting you up to try to get Dazai alone? Did they not even know about Dazai yet? Was Fitzgerald just trying to get confirmation on his existence and you just played right into it like a fool? Or is Steinbeck just trying to get into your head? You don’t know.

“Let me rephrase,” you say flatly, “for your sister’s sake, that better not be true.”

You watch as Steinbeck’s face shifts as soon as your words register through his head. It’s only then that you finally decide to use your ability. You’d been contemplating whether or not you’d get quicker results by trying to ease him into revealing the information or if you should intimidate him into it, but from what you’ve heard about Steinbeck—he’s devoted to the cause and will do whatever it takes to get the job done.

The only thing he’s more devoted to is his family.

“I told you, I’ve learned a lot about you,” you say softly, lips curling up. “Little Eden is turning thirteen this year, isn’t she? A teenager. She’s going to be a high schooler soon. You must be proud… She’s a little above the age range that Paz seeks out for his rings, but I’m sure he’ll find some kind of work for her.”

Paz’s trafficking rings are not to your taste. You’ve never been fond of the business, try to avoid it as much as possible, especially after taking Klaus in, so you’re not going to contribute to them in any way, but Steinbeck doesn’t need to know that. You just need him to believe you will and from the reputation that follows you and the black tendrils of fear curling around his brain courtesy of your ability, you think he’s plenty convinced.

“Don’t you dare go anywhere near her, I swear I’ll-”

“You’ll what?” you interrupt, tilting your head to the side. “This isn’t on me, Steinbeck. Your decisions will decide what happens to your family. So, you can sit here and be stubborn—I’ll let you live, if only so you can go back to that lovely town you call home in Glidden, Iowa so you can find your parents strung up like the pigs you sell to slaughterhouses and all eight of your younger siblings separated all across the world in different trafficking rings. Or, you can tell me what I want to know and die here so your family can live. It’s your choice.”

Steinbeck’s face is a ghastly pallor as he stares up at you, white and gaunt with eyes void of reasonable thought. “You’re doing something to me,” he says shakily. “I can’t-I can’t think. I don’t-they said you didn’t have an ability but you’re doing something to me. I can’t think.”

You smile. You don’t even have to keep your ability activated—never do, not with fear, it always spirals, the mindkiller—so you’re not even lying as you tell him, “I’m not. I suggest you start talking because if the next words from your lips aren’t telling me what exactly can kill your little friend over there, the next words from mine will be your home address to Octavio Paz.”

“He can’t be killed,” Steinbeck says, expression still painted with fear, pleading for you to believe him. “He can’t. Lovecraft-he’s not-he’s not like us. He’s invulnerable on the outside. He’s not killable.”

That can’t be true. Your breath shakes a little as you lift your gaze to look over at where Chuuya is still ardently trying to defend you from Lovecraft’s attacks, batting away tentacles and taking hits so they can’t get to you, to where the blonde member of the Agency grunts as he takes a painful blow to the side to protect one of the other detectives. That can’t be-

“On the outside,” a familiar voice calls frantically, loud over the fighting but too close for liking. Your head twists around to see Dazai hanging off the rubble that the Flags had been using as cover, ignoring Piano Man as he tries to drag the stupid boy back to safety. “He said that he’s invulnerable on the outside.”

Your eyes widen when you realize what Dazai is trying to get at and when you look down at Steinbeck, it’s with far more malice. You’re tired of this—Dazai shouldn’t be here, you were stupid enough to fall into the Guild’s trap and now Chuuya is at risk because of your incapability. God, you need to end this conflict.

“So, even after all of the threats, you still try to lie to my face to protect him and the Guild. You’re going to die here… you won’t be alone though, your family will join you soon enough.”

Steinbeck’s eyes fly open with panic but neither of you get the chance to say anything else because suddenly, the entire earth is trembling. You gasp in pain as you’re tossed a few feet away, shoulder slamming against the same rock you’d bashed Steinbeck’s head against. The world spins as you stare up at the sky, trying to figure out what happened, but you’re only met with an incomprehensible sight.

What?

You-

You don’t even know what you’re looking at. Your lips part as you stare up at the massive creature that’s suddenly in your line of vision—something so foreign and ungodly that you think it doesn’t belong on the earth. The air around you has become heavy and oppressive, the particles themselves holding you down like weights; it’s early morning so it should be light out, but somehow your surroundings feel dark and gloomy, unnaturally so.

Is that… Lovecraft? You only manage to put it together because the monstrous creature is the same color as the tentacles that had been trying to cut you and Chuuya down. You can’t help but wonder what demon Francis Fitzgerald must have dealt with to get something like this on his side.

You don’t snap out of your dazed, horrified state until you hear a scream of your name coming from your left. You’re too slow to the draw when you realize that Dazai is trying to warn you of an attack—Steinbeck must’ve recovered when you were still stunned by the appearance of Lovecraft’s new form and he’s flung his hand forward, sharp grape vines hurtling right toward you, about to pierce through your chest when-

When the branches wither and crumble to the ground. When a shot rings through the air and finds itself embedded in Steinbeck’s forehead. You let out a breath of relief and turn to thank Iceman but you freeze when you realize it’s not Iceman who protected you from a would-be lethal blow because he’s still scrambling from being tossed several feet away by the blast of Lovecraft’s transformation.

Instead, it’s Dazai standing there, lips parted in shock and fingers shaky around the gun you’d given him for protection, the one you promised him he wouldn’t have to use.

“I’ll do what I have to. It’s okay.”

“You won’t have to do anything.”

“Get him out of here,” you breathe out, horror clogging your throat, preventing you from raising your voice because what have you done? What have you done? What have you done? “Get him out of here, now.”

You feel sick, your stomach twists and turns and your vision blurs. Your fingers feel numb and clunky and you can hardly focus as you try to look over at Chuuya, who’s still staring up at Lovecraft, aghast. You need to focus. Need to get rid of the most imminent threat. Then, you can come to terms with what you’ve just allowed to happen.

Only then.

“Chuuya,” you shout for your friend over the ominous sound of birds screeching as they fly away from the forest. He looks back at you, eyes wide and wild. “It’s weak from the inside. Now’s the time.”

Chuuya’s gaze becomes steely as he nods, turning his attention back to Lovecraft and slowly pulling off his gloves. You turn to run for cover but don’t get more than a step before a familiar black tendril is wrapping around your waist, yanking you thirty yards away just as the entire world begins to shift around you. You land hard against Akutagawa’s chest, grimacing as Klaus throws himself over the two of you when a shockwave rattles the entire forest, knocking down nearly all of the trees in the vicinity.

“Are you okay?” Klaus asks breathlessly. “What’s going on?”

“Long story,” you say as you push yourself into a sitting position. “Just… be ready for the worst case scenario.”

Klaus’s eyes widen but he nods and instead of focusing your attention on Chuuya so that you can get to him as soon as his battle with Lovecraft ends, you find your eyes seeking Dazai out, trying to make sure that he got out of the immediate impact zone with Piano Man before Chuuya activated Corruption.

But you can’t find him. Your gaze becomes more and more panicked as your head swivels around trying to spot them. They shouldn’t have gotten that far—they should still be in your line of vision but-

Shit.

Your throat swells when you finally catch sight of Piano Man’s white and black bob fifteen or twenty yards away to your left. His face is twisted and he’s struggling to lift a fallen tree—your lips part to tell Klaus to get to them but you can’t even push the words out. You can’t see Dazai from the angle you’re standing at, but you can see the frustration on Piano Man’s face and the stress as his eyes flicker up to where Chuuya is fighting Lovecraft.

“Something… is wrong with Executive Nakahara.” You hear Klaus say behind you, voice wavering. You look back at him, seeing the disturbed expression on his face as he stares at the fighting. “He’s not usually this aggressive under Corruption, is he?”

The dread you’ve been feeling all morning intensifies as your head snaps back in the direction of the battle. At first, you think nothing is out of the ordinary—Chuuya is destructive while under the effects of Corruption, always has been. Gravity brings ruin to the land around him, slaughters his enemies and allies alike; it’s no different now, you watch as Lovecraft falls to the destruction of the calamity god Arahabaki and you wait for it to calm down, always does when it realizes all of the immediate enemies in the area have been destroyed.

Or, maybe calm down isn’t the right word but it does become more reckless in its efforts to destroy, blows holes in the ground and laughs at the destruction, is less aware of its surroundings—it’s only then that you approach it to put it to sleep, but now…?

Chuuya—no, Arahabaki is still hunting. It hasn’t celebrated the defeat of Lovecraft, head whipping around and black eyes wide and searching. You don’t know what it’s looking for but you don’t like it, rising to your feet slowly, pulling your wrist away from Klaus as he tries to stop you from moving.

Is it looking for the detectives, maybe? Chuuya would probably consider them his enemies and Arahabaki would feel those residual emotions and he would know they’re here even if they’ve seemingly disappeared. You think maybe you should intervene—if Arahabaki kills the detectives and Fukuzawa Yukichi learns of it, it’ll make messy times even messier for the Port Mafia. But… there is always the chance you can blame it on the Guild.

No, it’s not worth risking making the situation worse than it is.

“I’m going to go to him,” you say quietly. “Be ready.”

“Maybe you should wait,” Klaus tells you hesitantly but you ignore him. “Something’s not right.”

“Each second I wait, the closer Chuuya gets to death,” you hiss. “I’m not waiting.”

You don’t bother listening to the next protest that’s bound to leave both of your subordinates’ lips. You can see Akutagawa’s face twisting so you know it’s coming; instead, you turn around and make your way slowly in the direction of Arahabaki.

God, it’s disturbing, a sight so unearthly that you can hardly stand to look at it. Black guck is splattered all across the forest floor from where Arahabaki had torn Lovecraft apart from the inside out, chunks of the tentacles littered around the area. And Arahabaki itself is there in the middle of it, using the body of your closest friend as a grotesque vessel of calamity—the ground shudders around him, rubble suspended midair as gravity fluctuates precariously. No matter how many times you see Chuuya under the effects of Corruption, you’ll never get used to the way it transforms him: the way his eyes become black voids, empty and haunting, the way his pale skin starts to rot black from his fingertips to his forearms to his biceps.

Destroys him just as much as it destroys everything around him.

You don’t know if it’s just your imagination when you approach cautiously and realize that the rot seems to be spreading faster this time. It’s been less than half of the amount of time he was in Corruption during the conflict with the Inagawa-kai and yet already, the black decay has spread to nearly his elbows. Either way, it only serves to stress you out more.

You’re less than ten yards away from it when Arahabaki suddenly stiffens and goes still, all of the rubble suspended in the air drops to the ground with a thunderous noise. Your breath catches in the back of your throat—Arahabaki has never sensed your presence before, you and Chuuya theorize that it’s because of how comfortable Chuuya is around you. He thinks that parts of it transfer over to Arahabaki when it takes over so it just instinctually doesn’t register you near him or as a threat. It’s the only reason why you’re even able to approach it when it’s in control, otherwise you’d be as dead as any other enemy in the vicinity—you still have to worry about the stray rubble and increased pressure of course, but it’s much more manageable, and survivable, than a God of Calamity smushing you like a bug.

Has that changed? Has something changed?

You can hardly breathe as Arahabaki looks over its shoulder and a shiver runs down your spine at the sight of Chuuya’s warped face. But Arahabaki’s gaze shifts over you like you aren’t even there.

Instead, it looks past you.

Looks past you right at Piano Man and Dazai.

Iceman joined them and with their combined effort, they managed to get the tree off of Dazai’s leg, freeing him from where he was pinned to the ground. His ankle looks bad, twisted in all of the wrong spots, blood staining his tan pants. But the three of them stand frozen, Iceman mid-reloading his gun, Piano Man mid-step, and Dazai standing uncomfortably on his twisted ankle, none of them even daring to take in a single breath as they wait for Arahabaki to look away from them. In the entire vicinity, no one moves, no one breathes, no one even blinks—a bunch of deer frozen beneath the gaze of a predator, knowing that the wrong move would lead to them getting torn to pieces.

And then-

And then Dazai shifts onto his good leg.

The crunching of leaves beneath his foot is so loud in contrast to the stillness that had spread across the area, and it’s the only thing needed to get Arahabaki moving.

“Chuuya, no!” you scream futilely as Arahabaki uses gravity to propel itself forward in the direction of Dazai, Piano Man and Iceman.

The two Flags shove Dazai behind them and brace themselves for the brunt of Arahabaki’s attack but you’re faster and positioned at just the right angle between the three of them and Arahabaki to throw yourself right in Arahabaki’s path. And maybe it’s stupid, you realize that a bit too late when you’re face to face with the god that’s using your friend as a vessel but-

But you can’t let it get to Dazai.

You can’t put Arahabaki to sleep without physical contact—sleep is too strong of a state and Arahabaki is too powerful of a subject. It’s one of the only things you can’t induce without physical touch. If you could just-

Your vision blurs and you taste iron. Something warm and thick pools in the back of your throat and you gag on it, feet suddenly dangling in the air as you stare down at Arahabaki’s empty eyes. You can hear people yelling around you—Klaus and Akutagawa rushing in your direction, Albatross firing off shots at Arahabaki to try to get its attention off of you, Dazai screaming your name.

Dazai.

Shit.

You don’t want him to see this.

You think that Arahabaki must’ve ruptured one of your lungs because every breath you take in is wet and the oxygen just isn’t reaching where it needs to. Your vision swims with black dots and you need to lift your hand—if you could just wrap your hand around his forearm, it would be worth it. You could put him to sleep; you always knew one day you’d probably meet your fate at the hands of Arahabaki, you just wish that Dazai wasn’t here to witness it.

But you can’t. And it’s frustrating, it’s so frustrating, your eyes feel wet and you don’t know if it’s from tears or blood considering the pressure around you just keeps getting more and more intense. His forearm is right there, impaled through your fucking stomach, inches away but you can’t lift it high enough for you to force Arahabaki to sleep, your arms just sway limply at your side until Arahabaki has had enough of you and tosses your body several yards away into a pile of rubble.

You can’t move and the fucking bastard managed to land you at a perfect angle for you to witness what’s about to happen. Even as your vision starts to go out, you’re forced to watch as Arahabaki approaches Piano Man, Iceman and Dazai. You watch as Klaus attacks in blind rage only to get his legs crushed to dust—he’ll be able to heal them through Mephisto (he’ll pay for it, though, he always does), but not fast enough to stop Arahabaki from getting to Dazai. Akutagawa lands the next blow, consuming the space near Arahabaki’s neck to try to land what could have been an incapacitating hit but Arahabaki is faster and Akutagawa suffers for the attempt.

Arahabaki knocks Piano Man and Iceman out of the way, its gaze set on Dazai. Dazai doesn’t even try to run, he stares at where your body is crumpled against the rubble with a wrecked expression on his face. You don’t want to watch but you can’t even bring yourself to turn your gaze away. Klaus doesn’t even wait for his other leg to heal—as soon as one has reformed, he’s throwing himself at Arahabaki again to try to protect Dazai. When Arahabaki knocks him away again, he uses his arms to propel himself forward onto its back.

As Klaus utilizes his ability to try to wrangle Arahabaki away from Dazai, desperately healing himself as gravity crushes him, you become acutely aware of a new presence at your side.

Yosano.

Familiar purple eyes stare down at you, conflicted, breath shuddered. You can’t even fathom to understand what she might be thinking and you want her to get away from you. You think it’s cruel even for the gods to have your last sight be her of all people, the same girl that Mori has held over you since the day he met her, heralding her as the perfect linchpin of his plans and disparaging you as nothing more than a failure.

“Fuck off,” you try to tell her, but the words are garbled over blood.

“I know you hate me,” she says quietly and her words aren’t even registering in your brain, the lack of air makes your ears ring so loud that you can’t hear anything over it and you can’t make out what words her lips are forming because of the blood in your eyes. You think she knows that, but speaks anyway, “but everyday… I wonder how things might’ve been different if I’d gotten you off of Tokoyami Island with me. I couldn’t save you back then, so I will now… Whether it’s the right decision or not, I won’t let you die.”

You feel the effects of Yosano’s dreadful ability instantly, gasping as your lung stitches itself back to better, the hole through your abdomen closing up and the lost blood replenishing in your body. Your body still hurts—the soreness is there and you can feel the ghosts of the wounds, but you feel alive, forcibly pulled back from the brink of death by the last person in the world you’d ever want to save you.

“Don’t touch me,” you hiss, shoving her away when she tries to help you to your feet.

God, if Mori knew that Yosano of all fucking people saved your life it would just be more ammunition against you. You think you’d rather have died. Your eyes feel wet again, but this time you can’t use Arahabaki as an excuse, glaring at the other woman who looks oddly solemn at your reaction, disappointed but not surprised.

You turn your attention back to the more pressing matter, praying to god that you wouldn’t be met with the sight of Dazai’s obliterated body in the near distance. Your breath catches when you see Klaus crumpled on the ground, still alive but healing much more slowly and-

And Arahabaki approaching Dazai.

Dazai doesn’t even seem to notice, staring listlessly at the ground with a haunted expression on his face, like he doesn’t even realize death is approaching him.

Like he doesn’t care.

“Osamu, run!” you cry out, even though you know it’s to no avail, that Arahabaki will hunt him down, but he needs to try.

Dazai’s head snaps toward you, dark eyes wide and relieved when he sees you standing there, wounds healed. But just as your gaze meets his, Arahabaki strikes, hand darting out to curl around Dazai’s thin neck with every intention of using gravity to crush it to dust. Someone screams—you, maybe, though it’s unfamiliar, shrill and piercing, more animalistic than human—and Klaus is still trying to claw his way through the dirt toward Arahabaki to no avail. Piano Man is watching the scene with a shattered arm and leg and Iceman is fumbling for one of his guns, Akutagawa is hurtling himself through the air with Rashomon, holding his bloody side as he tries to sever Arahabaki’s hand before it can follow through with Dazai’s execution.

He’s not fast enough. None of them will be.

But they don’t need to be.

You watch as a strange white and blue color emits from where Arahabaki’s hand is curled around Dazai’s neck, as the black rot recedes and the blackness of his eyes gives way to familiar brown and blue. Chuuya—not Arahabaki—falls limply to the ground, exhausted from using Corruption, and Dazai just stands there, eyes wide and confused.

What the fuck?

Piano Man. Iceman. Albatross. Klaus and Akutagawa. They all look equally perplexed as they stare at what just happened and you fumble for answers to make sense of it. Did Arahabaki exhaust itself on its own? Did it feel Chuuya’s body crumbling under the force of Corruption and instead of letting its host die, it gave control back over? It would make sense if Arahabaki was a parasite that needed Chuuya to exist, but it’s not a parasite and Chuuya is its prison.

And either way, it only happened when he touched Dazai. A light emanated between the two of them like-

Like the activation of an ability, like the reaction between two abilities.

Is… Dazai an ability user?

He can’t be, there’s no way he’s gone his whole life without ever activating it once—or even knowing he has one. It doesn’t make sense. When he asked about yours, it was clearly with the curiosity of someone who’d never encountered an ability before. Unless-

Unless he was lying.

No. He wasn’t. He must not have known, but this changes everything.

You hardly even get the chance to play with your thoughts and come to a solid conclusion, because you realize that Yosano is storming past you in the direction of where Chuuya is unconscious and vulnerable.

“Where do you think you’re going?” you ask tightly, trying to take a step forward but wincing, so instead, you reach for the gun you’d placed back into your holster, grip firm on the handle.

Yosano doesn’t respond to you, her hand resting on the hilt of her machete is enough of an answer for you. The threat of Lovecraft is gone and the next biggest threat to the city is none other than the vessel of the calamity god lying unconscious in the dirt—if you were her, you would also move for the execution.

But you’re not her, so you pull out your gun and flick the safety off, not wasting any time before you drag your eyes over to where the blonde you’d spoken to before is resting on the ground with a wounded side. You lift your gun and point it at his leg, the gunshot resounding sharply through the air and causing Yosano to stop dead in her tracks, head snapping back toward you in disbelief.

Your gaze meets hers. “A nick to the femoral artery can cause a man to bleed out within thirty seconds… we learned that together, don’t you remember?”

“You-”

“The enemy is dead, we no longer have to work together. I suggest you handle your people and I’ll handle mine.”

Yosano looks frustrated, but her hesitation gave Akutagawa enough time to get between her and Chuuya. He tilts his head to the side as if daring her to try to get through him; she looks distressed as she looks between the blonde and Chuuya, but eventually rushes in your direction to get to her comrade.

She stops as she passes you and you don’t look at her, staring ahead at Dazai as she tells you tightly, “You… really have grown into someone who Mori should be proud of.”

Mori will never be proud of you, so Yosano’s words only serve to make you even more bitter.

“And you haven’t changed at all, Akiko-chan,” you say lightly. “The same scared girl on Tokoyami Island who made the same silly mistakes over and over again. You should have let me die today, just like you shouldn’t have gotten attached to every soldier that passed you by on that island. Your sentimentality will get you killed one day.”

Yosano scoffs. “You never were quite as good at utilizing your ability as I was,” she says coldly, digging a knife into an open wound, “but you did take quickly to his cold-hearted tactics and mentality… I wonder how he feels about your new weakness.”

Your gaze snaps to the side, focusing on her. “Tread carefully,” you say coldly.

“Relax, I’m not you,” Yosano spits out. “I wouldn’t use something like that against you. I don’t need to anyway, you’ll get him killed yourself.”

You don’t have a response to that, cringing and looking away. You miss the way her expression shifts when she sees your reaction; you also miss the way her lips part to say something else, leaving her behind without another word to go over to Dazai and the others.

Klaus is shakily pushing himself to his feet by the time you get there, exhausted and covered in his own blood. You reach out to grab his hand, squeezing it gently. “You did well,” you say quietly, watching how his eyes shine at the praise before glancing over to Akutagawa. “Both of you. You did good. Thank you. I parked my car two miles north of here, go get in there and sleep, I’ll drive you back to headquarters. Go on ahead, I’ll meet you there.”

The two nod and take off in the direction you gave them; you turn your attention to Iceman, who’s gathering Chuuya in his arms. Albatross helps Piano Man limp over to the group of you.

“We’re going to bring him back to his place to rest, Doc will look over him to make sure he’s alright. Was in Corruption for longer than usual,” Iceman says roughly, looking over you once to make sure you’re okay. “We’ll… we’ll all stay with him for a bit, if he remembers what happened when he wakes up…”

“That’s probably for the best,” you say quietly. Chuuya alone with his own mind after activating Corruption is quite the dangerous thing. You try to stay with him in the aftermath, but this time, you have things to deal with first. “He shouldn’t be alone. He’ll blame himself.”

Iceman nods, making his way toward where Doc must be camped out. As Albatross and Piano Man pass you by, Piano Man squeezes your shoulder with his good hand and says, “I’ll make sure the Boss doesn’t find out about the kid just yet… figure out what happened out here though, okay?”

“I will,” you promise, finally glancing up at Dazai, who looks like he wants nothing more than to just collapse into your arms. You think you want the same. Not yet though. Your voice softens as you address him, “Come on. Let’s go home.”

Dazai sits cross-legged on your bedroom floor as he waits for you to come back from whatever meeting you had to attend as soon as you got back. He dragged your comforter off of the bed to wrap around him and he removed his clothes so he could put on a comfortable pair of sweats and a sweatshirt—yours, naturally, because he thinks if he doesn’t surround himself with your scent he might actually start to lose his mind.

He’s been teetering on the edge for hours. His eyes burn because he refuses to let them slide shut—the image of you impaled on Nakahara Chuuya’s arm is burned behind his eyelids. God, he still doesn’t really know what happened—apparently it wasn’t Chuuya from the little you were able to explain before having to leave, but instead some calamity god that uses his body as a vessel.

As insane as it sounds, Dazai somehow didn’t even doubt the words once you said them because only the power of a god could explain what he’d seen. The entire forest had been rendered to ruin in a matter of seconds, he could feel the way the air had come alive with dark, oppressive forces; he’d never experienced anything like it before. He’d only ever stumbled upon an ability user once in Suribachi City before Odasaku found him and though he’d been strong—Dazai could tell that much from the way he set half of the slums on fire—it hadn’t felt anything like this. This had been… unnatural.

It had been incredible, he’d never seen anything so… powerful before, so close to divinity—or it had been until you were killed.

Whatever it was—Nakahara Chuuya or a calamity god called Arabahaki—it had killed you. It had killed you right in front of Dazai. It had killed you because Dazai made the wrong move and drew its attention. It killed you because you threw yourself into the line of fire to protect him and he can’t rid himself of the image.

No matter how hard he rubs his eyes, no matter how much he tells himself that you’re alive, he can only see the blood, the hole through your abdomen, the way your body had gone limp and your eyes had become cloudy. You were dead when it tossed your body to the side like it was nothing more than trash to be discarded—or you were close to it, at least, but you were definitely dead when you hit the rubble, body broken and shattered, eyes glassy.

You were dead because of him, that’s irrefutable. It doesn’t matter how you’re alive now—and he still doesn’t know how, you clammed up when he asked you how your wounds had disappeared—because you had been dead, and you’d been dead because of him and his mistake.

He’s hardly even had the chance to talk to you. The drive back to headquarters was quick and quiet; your two subordinates had been passed out in the backseat of your car and you’d been so lost in thought that Dazai could hardly bring himself to badger you with questions. He thought he’d get the chance when the two of you got up to your apartment, but you only sent him up on his own and told him you’d be back soon because you had to report to Mori.

It’s been seven hours since then.

He hasn’t budged an inch, hasn't eaten anything, hasn’t drank anything, hasn’t even wiped the crusted blood off of his neck. Your crusted blood in the shape of Nakahara Chuuya’s handprint wrapped around his throat because he’d used the very same hand that killed you to try to deliver the same fate to Dazai.

A part of him is half convinced that he imagined it—that’s why you aren’t here—and each passing second, he becomes more and more convinced of it. He imagined the fact that you’d been brought back to life after being killed and imagined that you drove him home. The reality is that your body is still split open on the rocks that Arahabaki had thrown you into, you’re still staring emptily up at the sky, blood pooling around you. It hadn’t been you to drive him and the two kids home, it had been one of the men you’d told him to stay by during the battle and he’s waiting here for them to decide what they’re going to do with him.

Dazai is alone again.

Everything he never wants to lose is lost—irrefutable, unchangeable.

It’s his fate.

It’s-

“Osamu.”

He doesn’t move. His gaze flickers to the side and he sees you standing there—you’re still dressed in the clothes that you were wearing when you dragged him from the beach house. The clothes you’d died in. A plain black shirt and black pants. You hadn’t given yourself any time to change once you got the message from Chuuya. As soon as you read it, you were ushering him to the car.

Except now, there’s a hole through the shirt where Arahabaki’s fist had ripped through your body. It’s all crusty with blood, Dazai can tell even if he can’t see the murky redness. Dazai thinks that if he stares long enough, he can see the wound reappear—the way your abdomen caves in on itself, how your skin starts to tear and…

He can’t look at this. His mind playing tricks on him like this, forcing him to see this—he can’t handle it. So, he looks away, breath shaky and fingers trembling beneath the comforter.

“Osamu,” you say again, voice quiet, garbled like you’re underwater. “Osamu.”

He ignores you still—doesn’t want to give in to the cruel imagination of his mind—so he tucks his legs closer to his chest and-

And you touch him.

He feels your fingers, warm and familiar, slide against the back of his head as you turn his head to force him to face you. You don’t let him look down at where the wound had been, forcing him to look up at your face. There’s a concerned look in your eyes, but your lips are curled up in a small smile.

“What’re you doing sitting on the floor?” you ask softly.

His lashes flutter when he feels how you card your fingers through his hair but he doesn’t respond. You’re here. Alive. With him.

He isn’t alone.

(Not yet.)

Your eyes flicker down to his neck, frowning when you see the blood. “C’mon, come with me to the bathroom.”

Dazai doesn’t respond but he does rise to his feet, dragging the comforter along with him as he follows after you, only dropping it when you give it a pointed look before he walks into the bathroom after you. He drops it on the floor before stepping in, letting you guide him to the toilet, sitting him down on top of the closed seat.

You don’t say anything as you step over to the sink, running the water for a few seconds before grabbing a soft rag and soaking it beneath. You ring it once before moving to stand in front of him again, tilting his head back gently before pressing the warm, damp rag against his skin.

“I didn’t think I would be as long as I was,” you say quietly. “I’m sorry. I thought I’d just be able to report in and then leave but he had me there for hours with some of the other executives trying to figure out how to proceed with the Guild.”

Dazai doesn’t respond, eyes sliding shut as you wipe away your crusted blood.

“He didn’t even let me change,” you say bitterly. “Think it was meant to be some sort of punishment.”

“Punishment for what?” Dazai asks, voice raspy even to his own ears.

“Failure.”

“But we won,” he frowns, a bit confused.

Your hand stills for a moment before you force yourself to continue cleaning him up, the expression on your face now a bit twisted. You seem to choose your words carefully as you tell him, “I didn’t. Not to him.”

Dazai isn’t quite sure what that means but he knows he doesn’t like the look on your face, so even though his fingers still feel a bit numb and clunky, he reaches out to grab your hand, watching as your expression immediately smoothes out, a small smile replacing the frown.

“I spoke to Piano Man,” you say lightly as you finish wiping off the blood, dropping the damp, dirty rag into the sink so you can cup his face and tilt it up toward you. “We figure that it must’ve been an ability that pulled Chuuya out of the Corrupted state. Your ability… Did you… know you had an ability?”

You ask the question hesitantly, watching him carefully for a response, and Dazai frowns, unsure why you even need to ask that because he would have told you if he had an ability and you should know that.

“No,” he finally says, brows knit together. “Of course not… what is it?”

You don’t respond and the expression on your face is still contemplative—for a scary second, Dazai thinks that you don’t believe him, but then your expression smoothes out as you nod, putting his fears to rest.

“We’re… not sure,” you admit. “Have you… been in situations before where you’ve been in danger?”

You cringe as you ask it like you already know the answer and Dazai gives you a flat look.

“Yes.”

“Situations where you’ve been in contact with the person making you feel threatened?” you prod further and Dazai’s lips curl down into a frown, eyes lowering as he remembers the months he spent in Suribachi and the years after Odasaku’s death.

“Yes.”

“We theorized maybe it could’ve been your ability triggering as a defense mechanism—that maybe you had a similar ability to mine in that you could make people unconscious,” you say, leaning against the sink to look down at where he’s sitting. You tilt your head to the side and Dazai distinctly feels like a specimen being studied by a scientist. “But if that was the case, it likely would have triggered already and you would’ve known about it.”

“I didn’t know,” he says again like he has something to prove. Your expression doesn’t shift, an unreadable look in your eyes as you stare down at him. “I didn’t.”

Dazai doesn’t know why he’s getting so defensive about it, he knows that it’s probably only serving to make you more suspicious. He thinks it’s because he’s upset that you even need to ask that, it’s bothering him more than it should.

“Okay,” you say to placate him. “I have my own theory but…”

Dazai leans forward. “What is it?”

You look conflicted, brows knitting together and then you look away like you don’t even want to answer him, so he tilts to the side to force himself back into your line of vision again. You sigh heavily as your gaze drifts back to him.

“I’m going to try to use my ability on you,” you tell him but your voice wavers and you look pained just by the prospect of it. Dazai’s eyes widen, remembering how angry you’d gotten when he first brought it up to you. “Just to… test something. Okay?”

Dazai nods eagerly, eyes wide and imploring—he thinks that he shouldn’t feel so excited by this when you’re clearly conflicted and unhappy about it but… it’s not even a matter of an ability being used on him in a non-aggressive manner, it’s more just…

It’s a part of you. It’s a part of you that Dazai has never experienced before and he wants to experience all parts of you. Everything. Anything. No matter what it is as long as it’s you.

You reach out to brush your fingers against his cheek and Dazai waits with his heart in his throat and excitement thrumming through his body, pushing away all of the numbness. He looks up at you as he braces himself for something to happen and only begins to wonder if something is wrong when he sees how you tilt your head to the side curiously.

“What do you feel?” you finally ask him.

Dazai blinks and then says, “Excited?”

Your brows furrow. You wait a few moments before questioning, “And now?”

Dazai stares at you. “Nothing has changed.”

Your hand drops from his face and Dazai is pouting immediately, eyes following it as you rest it against your lap. His lips part to protest but before he can say anything, you press: “And now?”

“Nothing has changed,” Dazai says, mind racing as he slowly puts together what your theory is: that no ability can affect him, and the reason why Arahabaki put to sleep after it came in contact with Dazai was because it couldn’t exist while in contact with him. “Wait, are you…?”

“You nullify abilities,” you breathe out. “You… And not just by touch… it seems like any ability—around you? Or maybe if it just targets you?—it just like… gets sucked up into a black hole. Non-existent.”

Dazai feels a bit giddy as he looks at you. “I have an ability.”

You don’t even seem to register his words, staring at him with an expression so wrecked that Dazai is startled, thinking he did something to upset you. He’s about to ask when you speak again, voice sounding a bit distant as you say, “You’ve never been affected by my ability.”

And Dazai remembers. He remembers why you’d been so upset when he asked you to use your ability on him. Remembers how your face had started to crumble, the insecurity that had swept across it: I don’t know who wants to be around me for me and who’s just influenced by my ability.

“I told you,” Dazai says with a teasing smile, “I want you for you.”

“You do,” you agree, taking in a deep breath as you look down at your lap, lips curling up into a small smile that Dazai wishes would remain on your face forever. You look so at peace, so happy—and because of him. “You might be the only one.”

You say the words lightly but Dazai can feel the weight of them, so he reaches out to take your hands into his, squeezing them gently. “I doubt that,” he says, “but even if I am, I’ll love you enough that it won’t matter what anyone else thinks.”

Your eyes widen. Dazai immediately draws back and slaps his hand over his mouth, realizing what he’d just admitted out loud. He can feel the heat emanating from his cheeks and he’s sure that he’s probably as red as a tomato. He almost wants to bolt but before he can, your smile softens around the edges and you reach out to cup his cheek again, the look in your eyes so adoring that it makes Dazai’s breath catch in the back of his throat.

“I love you too,” you tell him quietly, and it’s with more emotion than when you told him last night—god, it’s hardly been twenty-four hours, all of this has happened within twenty-four hours.

Dazai is suddenly acutely reminded of the fact that he’d almost lost you within those twenty-four hours and his chest feels much heavier. He wonders if you were abruptly reminded of the same thing because your nails dig into his cheek enough to sting, the look in your eyes more intense.

“Can we watch a movie?” he asks, voice wobbling as he holds your free hand between his so tightly that he fears he might break it.

He wants to lay with you, wants to curl up in your arms and pretend he’s watching a movie that he doesn’t care for just so he can bask in the feeling of being loved and pretend he didn't just almost lose you.

“We can watch a movie,” you agree. “Let me go get changed. What are you feeling?”

You take a step away from him and Dazai almost reaches out for you but refrains. “Horror?” he asks, if only because he likes to hide his face in your chest under the pretense of being scared.

You give him a side-eye over your shoulder as you walk into your bedroom and he promptly gives you a sweet smile, knowing that you know exactly why he picked the genre. You only roll your eyes and leave the bathroom and he sighs as he sits back against the toilet, a warm feeling spreading through his chest.

A warm feeling that is very quickly pushed away when his phone buzzes.

Professor Ui: Can you stop by the school with Koda-san and Otsuka-kun tomorrow? We received a tip-off concerning the exposé we were working on a few weeks ago. I want to run something by the three of you because we might just have the chance to drive the nail in the coffin.

His throat swells as his gaze flickers up to where you’re changing into a clean pair of pajamas and fixing the comforter that he’d pulled off of your bed, rattling off a few options for him to choose from—all going in one ear, out the other. His knuckles are white around his phone before he fumbles to stuff it in the pocket of his sweats.

He just wants one night with you after everything that happened today and… he remembers the look on your face when you mentioned ‘punishment’ and ‘failure’, and he thinks that you deserve just one night of peace too.

A night of peace that isn’t interrupted by another shitty text.

He’ll bring it up to you tomorrow or… or maybe he’ll handle it on his own. Go to the meeting, figure out what they’ve been tipped off about so he can report back to you… and then maybe, just maybe, he wouldn’t be a liability to you anymore. He could do something to help you and… it’s not like he has to be as worried about danger considering the newfound revelation about his ability. Obviously, there are still other dangers but…

But Dazai could be helpful. Useful. He’s only been a hindrance to you up until now, but he could change that.

He could change it. And maybe—just maybe—if he could learn how to use his ability and you could rely on him for more things… Maybe there’s a chance he could change the fate he thought was inevitable. Maybe he wouldn’t lose you. You love him, so you won’t leave him, and he would be strong enough this time to make sure you wouldn’t be taken from him in the same way Odasaku was.

Things would be different.

He would be different.

“Are you coming?” you call as you pull on a sweatshirt and peek your head back into the bathroom.

“Coming,” he agrees, bounding out of the bathroom and tossing himself right on top of you as you rest against the pillows, curling into your side and waiting for you to start the movie.

One night of peace. It couldn’t be too much for him to ask.

He tries to ignore the ghost weight of the gun in his hand as his arms tighten around you.

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