Two Suicidal Maniacs - Dazai Osamu x female oc(Bungo Stray Dogs)

Chapter 11

Smothering tension in the ice water filled my face in the mid-winter Yokohama air. I could no longer feel the freeze as it was already numb. The woman grabbed my tangled hair, and kept on repeating the same action, pushing me inside and out of the liquid-filled sink, making me choke on the suffocating water.

"Ugh- Why doesn't the swollen just fade, I've been dipping you in water just like before, it should be gone already. Goddamit, can't let the people see you like this." She said in annoyance, and then looked at the man sitting on the couch, playing video games. She lightly complained, "Can you please not injure her when she has school tomorrow? Do it sometime else will you-"

He kept on fidgeting the controller, and replied in no concern, "let it be Rin, we can just call in a sick leave tomorrow to the school. It's not that hard."

"But it's already the fourth time this fortnight, it'll get suspicious." The person who gave birth to me protested quietly. Yes, she's my mother, and she's just as cold as her name, Rin Haruno.

"Oh- just stop worrying about her for now, get me some more beer from the convenience store." He ordered while he got up from the couch and headed for the stairs, leading to the second floor. And oh yes again, that's my supposed father. What's he's name again? Hiroshi wasn't it? The name's just the complete opposite of what he is, I don't even want to recall it.

The woman no longer held my hair, instead, she tossed me aside hard to the conner, and went out the door after putting on her coat. From the small gap between the door frame, I could see the snow showering down towards the coated ground, it looked like a furry blanket, without warmth. I tilted my head to the direction of the living room. It was dark and gloomy, with no light as the only brightness coming from the TV screen was gone. There were instant noodle cups, beer cans, and used cigarettes all over the floor. It's a complete mess.

I grabbed an ice cub from the sink after my successful attempt of climbing up from the floor with the help of the counter. I rolled it around my bruised injured areas and wiped the water which had already turned into frost on my face. Then limped back into my room. I dare not open the lights, afraid of that man to come again. There was nothing inside it anyways, except for a desk and a bed.

Things weren't like this before my biological father died, everything was simple and easy-going. However, after a year of my father's death, my mother brought back this man, and the life I originally had turned upside down. The woman was like salt to water, completely inseparable from him, she would do everything he ordered, and believe everything he said. The days he abused me were tremendous nightmares, and my mother would take no action, except for continuing the obedience. Albeit funny enough, the woman was just so stubborn, not even wanting to change her last name after her husband died.

The room was freezing cold without the heater, and I'm sure my lips were blue. I crawled into bed, trying to cover myself with the thin blanket. I wondered every time, why is this happening to me? Why am I their target? Why do they have to do this to me? I want them to be dead. I swore on my deceased father's grave, I'll take their life one day. The idea craved into my head as I repeated it over and over again as I fell asleep in the blistering cold. I would never forgive them. Never, even if I were sent to hell.

This was also the time when I realised that I needed money. Not only to survive, but also to get all the things I desire. With being rich, I could erase almost all of my worrisome and troubling imperfections.

The sunrise came as the rooster from the neighbourhoods made its first morning call. Though, the snow did not melt, it had piled up the roof and the doorsteps with a thick layer. Those two people had already left, since I could hear no more mourns and grunts. I got out of bed and made my way to the disturbed-looking bathroom. It's dirty and messy as ever, even worse than the living room, as there's no one to clean it. I would usually, but not anymore.