Dazai Osamu x Chuuya Nakahara Fanfiction Book

Children With Numbers Taped to Their Arms (put off)

(Hey.

So like... this is gonna be another super funky idea with a super juicay plot.

⚠️FIRST WARNING: Major Character Death, (I'll never give y'all a break.), and depictions of child death (they are children in this fic)

After forming the plot— I like... I realized that this is a LOT like The Promised Neverland, but I only realized that afterwards 💀 this was actually inspired by this book called "Never Let Me Go", both of them take place in an orphanage which has a more sinister background than anybody realizes.

But— this is my oWN AU though— so like here's some info on it so none of y'all are confused as all Hell:

This story will be mostly following the centric of Oda, one of the head-leaders in a certain orphanage located on an off-drift island surrounded by nothing but water. The island's name is Yokohama, and it is where the last of humanity is currently surviving together after the apocalypse had arose. Oda does fairly like his job, mostly due to him being the one to take care of the children most of the time, but also entertaining them all day. There was only one part of the orphanage that wasn't in his favor...

...it was the part where they have to send the children away when they turn 13 years of age. He knows that the children are special due to the numbers tattooed on their arms and the scans placed on their necks but... but it still remains a complete mystery on where the children are really sent. The staff are ordered to lie to the children, telling them that they are "going to be adopted by a well-off family" but... but they all know that is simply not true.

And as he takes care of two bickering orphans about to turn 13 that catch his eye at the play area, he also tries to find out the secrets beneath the building's shiny and perfectly polished marble-floor...

WOW THAT PLOT IS KINDA JUICY.

well— enjoy 🙂)

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"So, have you seen one of them before?"

A voice, light and breathy. Young, and fruitful. Calmly, it spoke through the fresh air, the Spring's light breeze causing it to sound more of a whisper than of a call. It was erupted from the lips of a young boy, just 12 years of age and his long-brown locks hanging all tangled and messy just barely over his eyes.

"Seen one of what?"

Another voice, this one more raspy than the other— though, still young. It called back, louder than the brunette's presence and his tiny stature full of something plastered with pride and temper.

"A shank." The first boy replied, his fingers playing with a small mount of grass resting besides him, calmly fidgeting around with a small daisy resting in the center of the green patch. "You know— the monsters, the shanks? Have you ever seen one of them?"

Quirking a brow, the tiny ginger shook his head. "No." Another pair of little fingers ripped the grass out of the ground, the green bristles falling through his fingers like sand as he hovered it back up. "I don't think anyone besides the military have seen them before."

Softly nodding, the brunette bit his lip, his light blue and baggy T-shirt almost sticking to his back from the hot, infrared rays of the Sun. "The military." He said, almost as if he was testing the words out on his tongue. "All high and mighty... are you going to be joining it when you turn of age, Chibi?"