Chrysanthemum Garden [Dazai x Reader] ✓

21. "Executive"

Mother refused to confide in me on Dazai's whereabouts, and neither did she mention anything about his condition as time stood; all evidence left at the scene traced back to her presence at the scene, and it was no doubt that the reason for mine and Dazai's separation after the festival was a work of hers – besides, the mere fact that she had been able to confidently claim that certain events had taken place during the said night made her role crystal clear (that final kiss, for instance).

I outstretched my finger up to lightly brush their tips against the soft tissue of my lips, where his own had danced over in an intimate exchange; I had grown up being taught that only couples kissed one another (married ones, usually) or couples who had already foreseen and been planning a wedding ahead of them... so why exactly did he do it? We're nowhere near being married, and besides, you cannot marry a corpse.

The skinny fingers of the woman before me entangled between several locks of my hair and pulled my head upwards roughly, making me wince silently at the pain. She watched me quietly, her squinted glare observing my obedience and lack of physical response to attempt to free myself from her grasp.

'What's Dazai to you?'

Dazai is my drug.

Ever since Dazai came into my life, my dependency on the bottle of chloroform – which I could no longer for certain claim was where I had last left it at (the pocket of my jacket) – had simply seized, and it seems to me now that I grew unaware of the danger my ability possessed and the surfacing article that was my eye-patch – the eye-patch he gave me.

Dazai gave me more than any other chemical prescribed to my condition.

'Would you die for him?'

'I would die with him,' I replied almost inaudibly, slowly reaching for her thigh where her knife sat comfortably in its leather harness; despite her awareness of my failed stealth, she did not stop me from grasping at its handle.'But you didn't allow it.'

'It didn't seem fair, you see, to watch you gladly leave this world with someone –' – she caught my wrist and tightened her nails around it when I directed the tip of the blade towards her exposed collarbone, and she ensured that the sting of her nails made me cringe and let go of the knife, this that fell to the ground between us. 'I want to see how far you go without his guidance; after all, you have been living under his guidance for the past five years, like a sorry dog sheltered in several slums and various episodes of famines.'

'I thought you were more independent than that, too,' I responded, my voice somehow regaining composure and able to sound almost rebellious. 'I didn't know you lived under your husband's guidance, too; was he the one who put you out of the house and made you seek refugee in –'

Before I had come to grips with what words had left her mouth, the knife which had lay peacefully before us had made its way to my neck and stung a cut for sure, for I felt its blade dig into my flesh for a second before it had its tip dug into the wall behind me and lift from my exposed skin.

'Boss gave orders that we shan't kill her,' invaded an unfamiliar voice, and by the looks of it, also the reason why she was now just glaring at me with wide eyes and not repeatedly shoving the knife against every intact lump of flesh I had.

'Mind your own business,' she snarled back, adding a curse before pushing herself up reluctantly and clenching the handle of her knife from her ability's hands. 'I received no such orders, Nakahara.'

She stepped aside and looked back directly at the male she had addressed; I remember his shade of ginger hair contrast itself between the various heads of the Mafiosi whenever I saw these bundled up as a group, but I had never summoned enough courage to look him in the eyes until now: they were an angelic shade of sky blue, but somehow held a contradictory hostile and authoritative look to them.