The Sting Of Scorpius [soukoku]

Chapter 5

♡

Dazai Osamu was a closed off person. The youngest executor, the genius of the Port Mafia and just a person you better not mess with. Plus, he was a teenager. No one knew a thing about him, however, he could find out about you literally everything in a second.

Dazai's body was one of his "secrets." Only Mori saw his scars, who always brought  him back to life.

"Try bleach next time," the brown-haired trailed off sarcastically after the teenager's another unsuccessful attempt. His student's suicidal impulses were always funny for him. And somehow, Ougai saved his life every time.

Dazai wrinkled his nose, slamming the door behind him and rubbing annoyingly the bridge of his nose.

His body was too heavy, but bandages needed to be changed. He was reaching for the nightstand beside him when a cold voiced interrupted him.

"Aren't you bored yet?"

"Chuuya!" Dazai waved happily, but his voice was hoarse instead of his usual corny tone. The red-haired made a grimace and, pulling back from the wall, headed to the hospital bed. "Oya, did Chuuya really came here to take care of me?" Dazai asked when his partner grabbed clean bandages.

"I'd be happy to make your dream come true, throwing you out of the window," Nakahara spitted, annoyed. "But boss asked me to look after you."

"Mori-san is being too dramatic," Osamu exhaled, disappointed. "I'm not a disabled person. I can handle myself."

"Even if you were a corpse, I don't give a fuck," Chuuya barked, pulling his shoulder annoyingly.  "The boss said so, which means it's important."

Dazai pressed his lips in a line, throwing a cold look at his partner. They were completely different, and it was very obvious. What the worth of that devotion was. The freedom-loving Chuuya was ready to get over himself after Mori's order. It annoyed Dazai because why the fuck his soulmate acted like an obedient dog in front of someone who wasn't him? It was annoying, but he was ready to admit that Chuuya's devotion was amazing. Also, Mori-san deserved that attitude because while principles were principles, Nakahara wouldn't bow his head to just anyone.

Pfft, annoying.

"How long should I wait?"

Osamu's distracted gaze turned to his partner. He was leaning over with a gloomy face, holding clean bandages. The blue eyes peered into his face, and then it softened.

Chuuya relaxed his shoulder and looked at him calmly, waiting but without annoyance or his usual dislike. Chuuya gave him time and a right of choice, and Dazai wanted to break his neck because Chuuya was watching him too long. Nakahara could hiss and get crazy because he didn't know what was on the mobster's mind, but in reality, he managed to study him well in that miserable year of working with him.

Dazai didn't like changes.

Mori was enough for him, who basically brought him up, and that's why he knew him so well. The old Hirotsu was enough for him, who knew him for a long time, and because of that he could affect him and understand his actions.

He didn't need Chuuya, who could somehow look through his masks and tricks. He didn't need Chuuya, who trusted him with his life undoubtedly during every mission, and without hesitating, followed any of his plans. Even though he swore a lot. He definitely didn't need Chuuya, whom he trusted with his life, and whom he knew too well. 

Dazai stared quietly, without changing his face expression.

A perfect person for you. The one who had everything you needed.

...and then extended his hand.

The red-haired grabbed it immediately and started carefully unwrapping the dirty cloth.

"It appears you are very caring, shorty."

"Another word and I'll break your hand," without stopping, Nakahara responded, frowning because of sarcasm in his voice.  And even though his voice rang with annoyance, the warm fingers were moving too gently.

Dazai's shoulder flinched when he saw his hands. Chuuya didn't comment on the multiple scars, didn't even look at them, focusing on the clean bandages. The brown-haired was thankful for that. He hesitated for a second, but then extended his hand. With palm facing up.

Chuuya's hand froze when his blue eyes caught the mark.

Silence was hovering over them like leaden clouds. It was heavy, but for some reason Dazai was agitated by slight tension. He wanted to tease, throw some snarky remarks, but he stayed stubbornly quiet, waiting for Nakahara's reaction. With his fingertips, Chuuya touched one of the whitish scars then carefully placed his palm on the elbow and started wrapping bandages. The touches were almost soft, and silence was even more tense.

"Nakahara Chuuya" sparkled on pale skin in ink letters.

Chuuya was quiet. So was Dazai.

━━━━
original by ddaaazai