Odasaku's Last Wish (Dazai X Male!Reader)

XVIII

[A/N Ik I already but some tw in the description, but this has some very described self-harm. So if this is in any way triggering to you, or you aren't comfortable with this sort of stuff, I'll but a lil' tw on the part where it happens]

Dazai could feel his throat close up, not only at the thought of what might happen, but at what he had said to that nurse. It still gave him chills, and he has yet to figure out what demon possessed him, that had made him say it.
Fukazawa only tensed at the quietness of his employee.
"Dazai, please. What happened to him?"
He snapped out of it, once he heard Fukazawa ask again. He shook his head slightly, and Fukazawa assumed the worst.
"Coma."
Was all that Dazai could squeeze out of his vocal cords. His head turned up in confusion when he heard his boss give out a sigh of relief.
"Well, if he's only in a coma, we just have to wait until he wakes up again."
Dazai tensed visibly at what he had just heard.
"Did- Did you really just say that?"
It was now Fukazawa who was confused, as he saw the disbelieve in Dazai's eyes.
"[Name] is in a coma. A fucking coma. And all you have to say, is 'let's wait until he wakes up again'?"
Fukazawa could only stare wide eyed, as he had never seen Dazai like this. He never saw him so full of emotion. All he knew of him, was a carefree guy, who didn't care if he would meet his untimely death in the battlefield. He knew that wasn't all there was to him, but never would he have expected to see him so angry, fuming.
Even less had he expected himself to be the reason of Dazai's 'emotional outburst'.
"How the FUCK do you expect me to sit around and 'wait for him to wake up again', when he could be DEAD ANY FUCKING MINUTE.
I don't know how stable he is, and I don't know if he's even gonna make it past tonight. So don't you dare say that ever again."
Dazai the stood up, and left Fukazawas office, and going straight home.
He walked down the streets as he let his mind consume him. Thoughts of past events, of the recent ones, and the ones he might never get to experience. His mind drifted further and further down, into a spiral that he never knew how to get out of.
Before he knew he was infront of his door, unlocking it with the key in his pocket. He stepped inside, took of his shoes and jacket, and sat on his futon.
He took a glance at the bandages around his arms, but shook his head after a few moments.
"I can't do that, not when I promised him I wouldn't." He quietly spoke to himself, as the thought kept crawling into his head, his arm starting to itch with an all to familiar feeling. He didn't want to do it, but he felt like he needed it.

[TW!!!!]
He couldn’t help himself as he grabbed the next best thing. He unwrapped the bandages, and was met with hundreds, if not thousands of white lines. Some shorter, some longer. Some deeper some more shallow. Some bigger, some smaller.
Only now did he take a glance at the object in his hand, a pocket knife, perfect for something like this. He hated to admit it, but he felt borderline exited as he put the blade on his skin, pushing down slighy.
He slashed at his arms to his hearts content, as he watched his blood drip from his arms onto the futon.

[TW over ur good to go :)]
The feeling of hatred washed over him as he looked it over, he knew he'd hate himself afterwards, but he hated himself already, so what's the big difference?
He stood up, sighing to himself quietly and rinsed of his arm in the sink. He winced slightly at the cold water hitting the fresh wounds, but if he didn't clean it, he would probably get an infection. While that infection may be deadly, it would be painful, and Dazai wasn't about to do that to himself.
He rewrapped his arm, and layed back down on the futon, not caring to clean any of the blood that had dripped onto it earlier. He sighed again, and tried to atleast get a few hours of sleep, before he would visit [Name] tomorrow.