You long to end your life, so you never will die || bnha / bsd

The space filled with petals and with frigid emptiness, nothing more.

Chuuya Nakahara couldn't feel his legs.

In fact, he couldn't feel most of his body; unfortunately, this didn't include the splitting headache raging through his brain at the moment. His head felt like it was being torn open and turned inside out.

"Ugh... what the hell?" The redhead slowly opened his eyes, squinting at the bright fluorescent light which greeted him.

Where am I? What's going on...? He struggled to think straight. Huh? I was... fighting? Chuuya's eyes widened at the realization, and he scrambled to sit up. As his head tipped forward, a strong wave of nausea rushed over his body. His ears rang and the edges of his vision burned with green and red spots. He swallowed the sour saliva which filled his mouth and ignored the persistent taste of blood.

Needless to say, this wasn't a good look for him.

"Oya oya~ need help?" An obnoxiously familiar voice came from his left. Usually, this would cause him to groan in irritation; but for once Chuuya felt a surge of relief. Dazai's voice cut through the pain, helping him focus. And deep down, the fact that his partner was here comforted Chuuya; no matter how annoying the scheming bastard was, Dazai was admittedly very capable of protecting him.

Chuuya managed to rasp out a few words. "D-Dazai. What." He had too many questions and not enough breath to say them all, but knowing his overly aware partner, he would understand.

But before said partner could say anything, quick footsteps approached and somebody else spoke.

"My my, you're already awake! How are you feeling, boy?" The voice was raspy and hold, but warm at the same time. Chuuya lifted his head to glance towards the source of this voice.

"Like shit."

His eyes barely registered the small and blurry form of an old woman before everything blacked out again.

—

It was an early summer afternoon, with the stubborn Yokohama sun beating down on the dark pavement. A pale-haired boy stood in the doorway of an office, clutching a thick file while scanning the busy room. People wandered to and fro, typing at laptops and discussing their documents.

"Ehm... has anyone seen Dazai?" All seemingly ignored his meek presence, and he mumbled again, quieter this time. "H-hello...?"

A stern blonde man leaned back from his desk and glanced over. "Ah, Atsushi. He's been missing for a few days. Do you need him?"

Atsushi sighed in disbelief. He's not here? This is so annoying... "Yeah. We have a few people asking for him." A few seconds passed in silence. "W-W-W-WAit— Dazai is missing?!"

Kunikida leaned back into his laptop, adjusting his glasses. "He's probably floating down some river. You know him."

"R-right..." Atsushi swallowed nervously before stepping out into the hallway and staring down at the manila files in his hand. All of them featured a small yellow sticky note with Dazai's name on them, and several were marked with high importance. This is the absolute worst. So many people are asking for Dazai and he's not even here. He sighed again, slouching over wearily at his senior's absence.

Lost in his own thoughts, he didn't hear the two pairs of sharp footsteps rapidly approaching and stopping beside him; nor did he notice the small cough which quickly devolved into a hacking fit that echoed through the empty corridor.

Atsushi's head snapped up when he realized that someone was next to him, and frantically started to apologize.

"A-ah! I didn't see you, I'm so—" His eyes fell upon a familiar figure. "You're— what are you doing here?!" Surprisingly enough, in front of him was Akutagawa and his blonde assistant, who stood menacingly in the center of the hall.