BUNGO STRAY DOGS SHORT STORIES

Better off dead

Brief summary: This is me (the author) projecting my anguish onto Akutagawa.

TW: implied depression and drug abuse.
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It wasn't often that he would let his feelings take control. But this time he was caught off guard, he was pushed to the ground like the bullied kids he would see in the playground. He certainly felt like a little kid, cowering in the corner trying to draw out even breaths.

He brings his mind back to the present and feels the cold tiles beneath him press into his skin. A brief smile falls onto his lips, the dark haired man allows the grief to settle in for the night. He let the wicked creature sink it's finger in under his collarbones, dragging him up on his feet. The creatures hands left black prints on his porcelain skin, it burned and sizzled on the coolness of his skin but the man found a liking to the image he saw.

There standing in front of the mirror, Akutagawa lowered his eyes to the shadow that hid behind him. The faintest of smiles formed on his lips as he observed the creature within himself come out to play. He shifted his gaze to the black prints on his skin. It oozed down in thick drops and felt warm against his skin. It contrasted against his sickly complexion, but the man did little to rid himself of it. He didn't wipe it off with his thumb or turn his nose up at the foul odour. He didn't even glare at the creature that hid behind him. After all, Dazai's words echoed in his void mind. "A man is only truly successful when he embraces the darkness."

And so he was, he had tried to do so for months. Tried to tease the spider out of its hole with pain but it didn't seem to evoke it, but now that he was home alone. Now that the world seemed remotely peaceful did it decide to come out.

"You should allow yourself to feel more deeply." That was ironic coming from Dazai, a man who had tried to off himself a few thousand times. Even so those words didn't resonate with the man. Because now, standing in front of his dirty mirror, he felt the weight on his back. He felt the anchor tie around his feet and pull him down, bubbles escaping his lips and nose as he desperately tried to fight. But he didn't know why he was fighting, it seemed that every decision he had ever made had led him to this very moment.

Drowning in thick ink and crying out for anyone but him. He didn't want Dazai's approval anymore. He didn't want to be tethered to that man but even so he felt drawn to him. The anchor on his feet was similar to the noose the other wore like a necklace. He was falling and he liked it. For once Akutagawa wouldn't have to decide if he were to die or live, it seemed fate had already intervened. For once he could settle into the corners of his mind and enjoy the fall, he was free for the first time in his miserable life.

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Akutagawa woke with a heavy weight in his chest. Every bone ached against the hard floors of his bathroom. His skin was bumpy and felt like it was crawling under the chill of the morning. The pain didn't concern him, the dark haired man sitting on a padded chair beside him did.

"Oh good you're awake." His voice was laced with a sort of humour that was usually shared between close friends. But Akutagawa never recalled being friends with Dazai. He also never recalled letting the man inside his house.

"What are you doing in my house?" He knew it must be odd to find someone passed out on the floor. But he shook off the embarrassment and judgment he felt, easing himself up onto his feet. He tumbled over like a new born foal, or rather a young teen who can't handle the amount of alcohol he drank. Dazai had swiftly balanced the other and forced him to sit on the floor, looking up at Dazai like he was some school teacher (and a horrid one at that).

Akutagawa's headache was making it difficult to even try to protest so he simply sat there glaring at him.

"Someone had to drive you home last night," Dazai didn't seem to notice the tension in the air. "Who knew you had such a liking for wine." Akutagawa wanted to smack that stupid smirk off his face, but he thought against it. Right now he couldn't even stand up straight let alone land a punch. And to make matters worse he couldn't recall anything from the previous night. He felt like he could throw up but didn't have the energy to even try.