What you're name ?

Chapter 27 Daddy Issues

Made by @cataclysmiceve1 on Twitter!
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Content Warnings: Violence, PTSD

That weekend, as it turned out, would be the last peaceful weekend Chuuya would have for a long, long time.

Because that next Saturday, he was standing in front of the prosecutor's office, fighting the urge to cling to Fukuzawa's sleeve like a child.

"You can still walk away if you want to, okay?" Fukuzawa reminds him softly.

Chuuya nods, swallowing hard. He knows. Obviously.

He knows. Dazai told him as much on the phone three times this morning.

"I'm okay." He mutters, pushing the door open.

The first meeting isn't awful.

The prosecutor—Taneda—isn't what Chuuya expected. The bald head and the round glasses made him feel intimidated at first—but the warm smile and the handshake make him relax a little. "Nakahara-san—you have no idea how happy I am to get the chance to speak with you."

Chuuya nods, squeezing the man's fingers before letting go and sitting down, instinctively crossing his arms over his chest. "Chuuya is fine, if you don't care."

Taneda bows his head respectfully, sitting behind his desk as Fukuzawa takes the chair next to Chuuya's. "Of course."

"Do you know why I asked you to come here today?"

Chuuya nods, Fukuzawa explained everything the night before.

By the time a witness makes it to the stand in court, they've told their story many, many times. To the prosecutor, to the defense, to their own counsel and it starts here.By telling Taneda what he can remember and seeing if they even want him as a witness at all.

"I know this isn't easy for you," Taneda lifts a voice recorder and a notepad, "but I'm glad you decided to come."

"Yeah..." Chuuya swallows hard, staring at the blank page underneath Taneda's pen.

Filling in that space is going to hurt.

"I want you to take me through that night, from the very beginning," Taneda asks softly, "no detail is irrelevant. I want to know everything."

Everything.

Chuuya surprises them both when he reaches for Fukuzawa's hand, grabbing it and holding on right before he speaks. "Okay..." he closes his eyes and exhales slowly. "It started when I came home from school—"

It's hard. He has to stop a few times to compose himself. Fukuzawa squeezes his hand, Taneda gives him water, and all the time he needs to get through it.

By the end Chuuya is pale, shaken, and exhausted.

"Is that..." he glances at the clock, distantly surprised to see it's been three hours. "Is that gonna help?"

The page, plus several more, is full—and the recorder is still running.

And Taneda looks so sad. "Yes, Chuuya—it helps more than you can imagine. You're doing well."