Baby executive

Chapter 7

The next morning Dazai could not get out of bed. His muscles were leadened, weighted down to the bed, leaving him pinned and unmoving.

As soon as he cracked his eyes open, he made a noncommittal grunt and closed them back to block the incoming sunlight.

Dazai slowly twisted away from the window, bringing the covers up to his nose. The comforter smelled like that sickeningly sweet detergent Chuuya used on his clothes. Ugh.

Dazai hid deeper into the covers.

Little Chuuya was probably still asleep, so he had some time to sulk before he attempted to pull himself together.

Usually on days like this where everything weighed him down and that lead ball rolled around in his gut, Dazai would ignore everything from the outside world and remained tucked away in bed.

Maybe he could do that today. He was already a pretty bad child sitter, it couldn't get too much worse than this.

Dazai shifted.

His mind flashed back to the image of the men in the warehouse, whimpering on the floor for their lives and families.

Dazai had smiled then, a weird twisted feeling of... adrenaline? Accomplishment? Had filled his senses in that moment. Something dark in him had enjoyed that.

Dazai couldn't bring himself to care too much.

"M-my wife is at home!" The lanky one cried as Dazai held the scalpel up to his eye, brushing it across his cheek mockingly gentle.

Dazai leaned closer "your wife is pregnant, correct?"

Frantic nodding.

"Well, maybe I will cut your child out of her stomach" Dazai ran the scalpel along the shaking abdominal muscles "just like I will your eyes."

Dazai twisted around again.

The blanket pulled all the way up to his head.

He had joined the agency, yet still felt no value to life. He had joined because of Oda's wish, was changed yet the same.

Then tiny hands tugged the blanket down, light flooding Dazai's senses as he squinted at the little redhead, who stared at him, a crease between his eyebrows.

Though... little Chuuya. Any Chuuya.

His life was invaluable.

He could not be replaced in Dazai's mind like other lives could. He was not a pawn to be pushed around the chess board.

It wasn't the dormant god that lay to rest in the chains of Chuuya's body that made himself special.

No.

He smiled and laughed, he valued all life, he cared. He was so much different than Dazai, yet somehow ended up in the same place with his damned luck.

He didn't deserve his childhood or anything he did, Dazai did.

Then, with a start, Dazai realized that little Chuuya was talking.

"Come again~" his teasing tone fell flat.

Chuuya gave him a pointed look "you're still in bed."

"Yes, way to state the obvious."

Chuuya huffed, dropping the blanket back. His little stomping could be heard before they stopped by his door. Dazai could have sworn he heard grumbling. "To think I was worried about an idiot."

He was... worried?

Huh, that was strange. Something Dazai hadn't been anticipating. Dazai's heavy limbs were moving, pushing the covers aside.