Bsd x Mha

racing death

Chuuya fell completely silent, beckoning Dazai to continue his words. He wanted to understand, he did. Dazai didn't want to explain. It was a major waste of time to bother talking about himself, and Mori? A colossal waste of time and words would be the equivalent of what Chuuya wanted. Which was odd, Dazai didn't take him for the wasteful type.

Their mind only worked in a constant spiral downward. Trust never got Dazai anywhere. He was just as insignificant as Mori, they were all bugs to be trampled in the end. That's all anything ever was. So when did Chuuya become an exception? Dazai himself didn't know. All he knew, was that it was something that needed to be changed.

He himself was nothing great. Worth and Dazai were two words that would only fit together in a way that Dazai has worth when others use him. Once they are done, Dazai goes back to his hopeless self. After listening to Chuuya's sorrows, he supposed the other could be a bit more considerate of trashed time, yet, Dazai was wrong again.

It was a mistake to fall into the warm abyss of trust. Telling anyone of that horrible household and its terrors, its suffocating images that haunted Dazai, swirling inside of his perpetually diseased mind, would never happen. He had hoped that Chuuya would be the first to know. Now, it was time to bury those feelings and move on. Stop circling on the past, stop looking down at fallen souls, and start looking at the same scene Chuuya himself was looking at.

The twinge of pain in his chest blossomed, taking over his mind. It wasn't right for someone like Dazai to look at the same, human world that Chuuya looked at. He would end up tainting it with his darkness. Chuuya did not deserve that. Such a shame. It was disgraceful for beautiful, pure Chuuya to ever make contact with someone lacking humanity such as Dazai.

Dazai slept so soundly that he seemed dead. Hunger was a foreign concept. Of course, he knew the prospect of it, to give you a motive to eat, yet, he'd never had the desire to. Life simply happened and passed by. Until he caught a glimpse of fiery red hair streaming past him. He would exhaust Chuuya asking for more of that life he so desperately wanted to see. He couldn't. No matter how long Dazai went on with life, he would never feel the same hunger that others did for life.

The conclusion of many was that though Dazai appears to belong to the same species as Chuuya, they are quite different creatures entirely. In his case, such an expression as "to care for" or even "to be trusted" is not in the least appropriate; perhaps it describes the situation more accurately to say that he was "observed."

Dazai concluded that though he appears to belong to the same species as Chuuya, they are different creatures entirely. It made no sense for someone, as twisted as Dazai, to stuff himself full of lively energy. He sucked off life from others, and Chuuya would be next. Nevertheless, he chose to stay, knowing himself that if Chuuya ever died, it would be Dazai's fault. Until the day Chuuya left the world completely, as unimaginable as that sounded, Dazai would stay around him with an insatiable demand to see his life to the fullest.

It was safe to say that Dazai's mind was rotting more quickly than anyone could have anticipated.

Even now, as Chuuya stared him back into his corner trying to rid of him completely, he was fascinated by the existence of Chuuya Nakahara. And, like a dog backed against the alleyway, they began the one thing they could rely on whilst distracted. They lied. While they could say what was true and what was false, no matter what he ever said, everything was a lie for the mere fact that Dazai didn't exist. If the embodiment of a lie tells a truth, it doesn't matter, because it's a lie either way. He shapes the environment with such lies, and it comforts him in return.

There were always different types of lies, and half-truths, from malicious to comforting ones, from ones that are meant to make others believe it, and others you make with the intent for the other to see through it. Lower grunts in the mafia may know the same things as Dazai does, but they are far too scared of the wrath that may occur if they dare say something. Dazai had no regard for his life, which allowed him to progress smoothly to the front despite challenges that occurred because of this.