『Soukoku Hurt/Comfort/Fluff』

Heart On Your Sleeve Like Youʼve Never Been Loved



Summary:
Death waited for him to welcome Chuuya into itʼs arms. After all, he did not deserve to live. Who was he to dictate his worth when it was written all over his actions and memories?

Or: Chuuya finally breaks and attempts. Dazai is there to miraculously save the day.

Warnings: Angst with a Happy Ending, Hurt Chuuya, Caring Dazai, Minor Shin Soukoku, ⚠MASSIVE TRIGGER WARNINGS!!!! DO NOT READ IF EASILY TRIGGERED BY THE TOPICS OF DEPRESSION, SELF-HARM, SELF-ESTEEM ISSUES AND SUICIDE⚠

Word Count: 3,185

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He slid the blade across the arm of his skin.

Once. Twice. Thrice.

He did it again, and again, and again. Chuuya dully noticed the pain radiating from his arm all the way up to his shoulders and down to his hand. The blood cascaded down in sharp waves of crimson that burned against his eyes, mixing in with the clean bath water. His arm slowly grew numb, but the redhead could not bring himself to care much.

Not about the amount of blood loss he was experiencing, nor the imminent death that awaited him, as he sat in the growing ruby water around him. Death waited for him to welcome Chuuya into itʼs arms. After all, he did not deserve to live. Who was he to dictate his worth when it was written all over his actions and memories?

The world made it quite clear for him.

There would be only but one place for him, beneath the depths of Earth, dirt and soil surrounding him as he lay in a coffin, breaths no longer drawn, oxygen no longer wasted. He was merely a vessel, a weapon, something to be made use of. His worth lay in his actions.

And he was a horrible person.

Chuuya could not remember, for the life of him, what lead him to this point. Perhaps it was the subordinates he, yet again, lost. Or perhaps it was the silent scolding he got from Mori and the disappointed stare he got from Kouyou after he did not report back as soon as he should have. Maybe it was the coffee he spilled this morning in a rush, or maybe even the complete and utter silence he received from his ex-partner when he texted him to somehow find a way to argue, so Chuuya could shut his stupid mind up.

Maybe it was a subtle mix of everything.

As Chuuya slid down into the water slightly, losing his focus for a few seconds, the water splashed out onto the grey tiles, giving them an almost black shade. He bled out all his insecurities, his thoughts, his actions, his demeanor, his very being. His mind remained pleasantly numb. His grip loosened, the knife falling from his hand to make contact with the spilled water, creating a small splash.

He couldnʼt feel his arm anymore.

Hell, Chuuya couldnʼt see his arm anymore under the scarlet.

Laughter bubbled in his chest, making its journey to his throat before it died out, just like the flickering flames of his consciousness. He felt himself slip. A moment of regret washed over him-he would be leaving everything behind, but was it truly his to lose?-before it was quickly replaced by water filling his lungs. It stung his nose and throat, his chest spasmed. Gasping, he tried to breathe, the instinct to survive still somehow painted into his bones.

The only thing that greeted him was even more water.

Settling into the waves, becoming one with them, he opened his eyes. They stung at first. Azure dazedly watched something they knew wasnʼt there. A muffled voice echoed in his ears, brown eyes stared back at him. Chuuya floated down to the bottom-was he in a river? Because he was pretty sure that was Dazai he was seeing-and reached a hand out.