Chapter Text
Dazai sighed. He really shouldn’t be out right now, considering the fact that Kunikida was expecting a full length report early next morning. It wasn’t on anything major, just an organized heist. Of course, he wasn’t really up to typing at a computer for hours on end; he had nothing rewarding him for it, so why do it? He could always just pass it on to Atsushi.
The sky began to grow darker as the sun disappeared beyond the horizon. A snazzy bar stood illuminated against the darkened sky. He decided to go into the bar, seeing as he had nothing better to do. As he entered through the door, the potent smell of booze filled his nostrils; he winced. It had been a while since he had smelt any form of alcohol. He walked around, taking in the warm atmosphere and upbeat music. Something about the place just screamed familiarity yet he couldn’t figure out why. Maybe he passed by here when he was drunk? Probably. A short woman with light blonde hair caught his eye; or rather she had been staring at him for a while. Yet again a pang of familiarity hit him. Who was she? The look she wore was more concerned than love struck. Right as he took a step in her direction, she turned on her heels and headed away from him. She didn’t set off any alarm bells, but he could tell something was up. Signals warned him to be careful yet something told him to relax. Rather, a voice.
Dazai found a bartender and ordered some vodka. He needed to get wasted as quickly as possible and casual drinks just wouldn’t cut it. He found a seat at one of the bars and relaxed for a while. Now that he was actually paying attention, he noticed that many of the customers were practically swimming in money. Wearing designer dresses, expensive jewellery and speaking like royals; it irritated every cell in his body. Many people there had never worked a single day in their lives, just spoilt adults. Even if they were on the younger side, they still had that annoying arrogance. He got so engrossed in his thoughts that he didn’t even notice his glass of vodka. He took one dismissive look at it before chugging half of it down. It stung, but he was used to it. Dazai sighed heavily before chugging the rest of it. Unluckily for him, he had a strong tolerance against alcohol. Just as he was about to order another glass, he heard a familiar voice yelling. He held back the urge to smirk. Maybe he could have a little fun.
He skipped over towards were the voice came from. Just as he had suspected, the voice belonged to a particularly furious midget. He weighed his options and decided on the latter. Chuuya was sat alone at the small bar, 5 empty glasses splayed across the surface. He was rambling incoherently about random things. It wasn’t unusual for him to rant to random people but this time it felt different. His voice was hoarser and deeper, laced with a tone of exasperation. Something had definitely happened. Dazai didn’t notice how long he had been standing there, as the same short, blonde haired lady gave a loud cough. Chuuya lifted his face and swivelled around to be met with a young lady and a tipsy Dazai. His face contorted from angry, sad, creeped out then disappointed. Dazai knew full well that Chuuya was not in a good mood for jokes. He slowly slinked over to a stool next to him. He could feel the tense aura encasing him. For a moment he felt slightly nervous.
“Are you just gonna stare at a wall for the next twenty years dumbass?”Chuuya asked harshly. Dazai blinked for a second before he saw the deep red under his eyes. Something was definitely wrong. He had to be careful or else he’d lose his chance completely. “You don’t exactly scream sociable right now,” he said. Chuuya chuckled lightly. A bittersweet expression clung to his features. He felt his heart ache, longing invading his feelings. Chuuya’s fingers traced across the rim of his glass; he didn’t bother to look up even once. The brunette nudged his head causing the ginger to flop onto the table. He murmured something inaudible before shutting his eyes. It was odd for him to not put up much of a fight; even when he was ran rugged he still had the energy in him to disagree with Dazai. Then again, he actively tried to disagree with him on a daily basis.
The red on his cheeks was growing more and more prominent almost looking like a tomato. Dazai felt the booze coursing through his veins at that point. Chuuya finally lifted his head, glaring aimlessly into Dazai’s eyes. He came across as extremely helpless and vulnerable. His frail body swinging back and forth in an attempt to stay upright. His hair was messy and mangled, knots scattered everywhere. Fingers covered in cuts and bruises. It would seem as though he’d gotten into some form of fight however, he never strolled into a bar looking dishevelled. He might have done it to himself. An eerie feeling of nostalgia and anxiety crawled up his back. ‘No he couldn’t have,’. Dazai took a closer look at his arm and caught sight of much older scars. His brain was screaming at him. The familiarity caused his heart to ache.
Without a second thought, he pulled down Chuuya’s sleeve only to reveal deep scars and vibrantly purple bruises. His throat tightened, beckoning him to let it all out. Tears threatened to fall out. It was too close to home for him. Chuuya shrugged nervously avoiding his gaze. Dazai inched closer, genuine concern masked by anger.
“You haven’t harmed yourself lately, have you?