After Dazai had left the Port Mafia, you were a "replacement" for him. Filling the position as Mori's favorite, as well as Chuuya's partner. You and Dazai come into contact accidentally. You couldn't stand the man, however you also felt something fo...
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Your breathing stayed at a steady rate as you stared at the ceiling above. The little bumps interested you, they were like molded stars in the night sky. You couldn't take yours eyes off of them, determined to count each and every one. The slightly rusted ceiling fan filled your ears, the humming was like white noise to you.
You watch the fan, then the clock, the flowing curtains, the bookcase, your coat, the cracked mirror, the wilting flowers. You listen to your co-workers footsteps from outside your room, showers running, the screams of the dying souls, the silence. It couldn't have been any louder.
Your blanket wrapped around you—it felt like you were being hugged by a mother and father loving their child. You turned to the side, huddled in a fetal position (it was the comfiest position in your opinion). Your face squished against your fluffy pillow, the pressure applied making it look like your cheeks were chubby. All whom you've slept with (romantically and non-romantically) called it 'cute', you would usually accept the compliment and laugh.
You weren't too used to affection, aside from compliments you received. You usually kept to yourself and wanted to be left alone. However, you craved to be touched. You wanted someone to feel you up and down in a non-sensual and tell you how beautiful you were and genuinely mean it. You traced your own bare thighs, drawing little circles on them—you stared intensely as if the drawing would really show up.
Your lids fell over your eyes. You wished to resist from falling asleep, however that was always impossible for you. When you wanted to stay up, you would sleep, and whenever you wanted to sleep, you couldn't. It was a ridiculous pattern.
You finally seeped into your bedding, waiting for that warm feeling to wash over before you finally fell asleep. Pitch black with static-like dots was your vision, you couldn't figure why that would happen every time you closed your eyes. Perhaps it had something to do with science?
You jolted at the sound of a knock at your door. You breathed heavily, afraid of what was lurking on the other side (or much rather whom).
Untucking yourself from the covers, you moved swiftly to the door, grabbing one of your knives from the nightstand, taking precaution. Who would be knocking on your door this late at night? Could it have been Chuuya? Who would once again come stumbling to you after he drank too much, making a fool of himself down the hallways. You could already imagine his slurred words as he would try to explain himself, then you would let him in and take care of the lightweight.
Your fingertips slowly collided with the cool metal door knob, sending chills down your spine. It squeaked as you turned it, making the night more eerie. Peeking your head out the door you saw nobody crossing the halls, though, when you looked down next to the door was a folded white sheet of paper.
Guardedly, you picked up the paper, bringing it back into your room and turning on the light as you do so. You locked the door and went to your bed, sitting on the very edge. You were confused as to what the paper was (obviously), as much as you were curious, you were also scared. It could be just like Alice falling down the Rabbit Hole, when you think curiosity is the best way to look at things, but it turns out to be your down fall.
Fuck it.
You opened the letter only to be met with a paragraph of fine written words—they almost looked printed, you were fooled until you saw the eraser markings. You had never seen the writing before, it looked how you imagined a princess's would: neat and graceful; like each stroke had a motive.
"Dear (Y/N),
My apologies for the surprise visit. My offer to start a new life still awaits for your answer. Take your time, but not too long—I'm very impatient. I look forward to working with you.
— O. Dazai"
"Huh, I wouldn't expect him to have such nice penmanship." Was the first thing you had said about the note. This guy just wouldn't take no for an answer. Was he that desperate?
They only want you for your ability and you weren't going to give them what they wanted. You were loyal to the Port Mafia, couldn't they see that? Just because they got the infamous Osamu Dazai, doesn't mean they can take the Port Mafia's executives every time a new one pops up.
For the five years you've worked as a mafioso, and none of those five years do you regret. You wouldn't be able to bring yourself to leave just like that. A decision like this would take at least a month or so.
The Port Mafia was the first people to ever treat you like a human being. They welcomed you with opened arms. As much as you hated it, Mori was like a father-figure to you, and Kouyou was like the mother you never had. While Chuuya was the closest thing you ever had to a friend. You couldn't up and leave your family like that—not like Dazai did.
You wouldn't be able to live with yourself after that. You wouldn't put Chuuya through that again, not after hearing what Dazai had done.
You hated everyone and everything. You hated life: you hated having to go through the hardships of existing. Why couldn't it all just end? If you were dead, it would cause some chaos, but put an end to most problems you've burdened others with. You just wanted a normal life, you never asked for this damn Ability.
You sighed in defeat. Crumbling the paper and tossing it into your trashcan like an NBA star, and of course, it made it in. Immediately after, you crashed on your bed, occasionally tossing and turning from the uncomfortable feeling of the room.
