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

A man's got to fake just to stay alive.

The police were at the door. Yep, the goddamn police, here to question the story that Chuuya and Dazai had meticulously planned out.

Chuuya grimaced, rubbing his forehead. Why did Dazai think it was a good idea to do a police interview?

A few hours previous, that homeless guy (Aikawa? Aizu?) barged in and asked if the pair wished to do an interview with the police.

"Based on what you guys have told us about how you got here, I believe it would be good to tell the police about your experiences."

And by all means, this sort of reaction was warranted, considering what the pair were saying.

Dazai wrote up a whole plot for why the two were bloody, in an alleyway, and with no trace of their existence in any database. According to this story, they were orphans from Yokohama who had been on the streets for their entire lives, being sent from orphanage to orphanage before finally getting thrown onto the streets. Out of the blue, they got kidnapped by some sort of human traffickers. Luckily, they escaped with a few injuries, and ran through the alleys before Chuuya collapsed. That's when the pair were discovered by Aizawa.

To put it simply, Dazai and Chuuya were now actors. The characters they were playing? Angsty street boys who hated administration.

Dazai sighed in reply to Aizawa.

"That's what every adult says. You don't know how it is at those orphanages, how it feels to wake up with another child's cold body besides you. I would rather hang myself than talk to the police." Technically, that last part wasn't a lie.

"Look, I know that you guys' existences are relatively illegal, and I can't bring myself to comprehend what you've been through. Nonetheless, there are several large-scale ongoing investigations occuring, and any sorts of leads are welcomed. We won't question who you are, or even have to reveal your identities. But please, tell the police what happened. This could be key information and save hundreds of lives."

Of course, Dazai had to agree. Knowing him, the scheming bastard was up to something unsavory. This brought Chuuya back to the present moment: two days after the pair had arrived to this world, and one day after Chuuya had woken up. They arrived on Saturday afternoon, Chuuya woke Sunday morning, and today was early Monday.

And that meant that there were students out and about, since Chuuya and Dazai now resided (temporarily, mind you) at a school. Fortunately, they never had the opportunity to interact with the kids, only watching them enter and leave school from the large paned windows in the clinic. There was always the occasional student who got in a scuffle or accident and needed medical treatment, but it was never long, and the pair dwelled way in the back of the infirmary where the students couldn't see them. Whether this was done intentionally or not by the teachers, it still meant none of the students knew that two vagabond homeless criminals were currently living on campus.

Fucking hell, this is annoying. Chuuya cursed silently in his mind, remembering how the nurse had scolded him last night about using profanity-ridden language. He was about to entertain a mental tangent about kicking toddlers, but Dazai interrupted him by striding into the infirmary, returning from his police interview.

"Chuuya! Your turn!"

"Haah... fine." He stood up begrudgingly, but with ease; his injuries had been healed the day before by the nurse's ability. Beside Dazai stood a police officer who nodded as Chuuya approached. Yet as the redhead neared Dazai, he felt the ex-mafioso grab his hand subtly.

Before snatching his hand away, Chuuya felt a few motions drawn across his palm by Dazai's finger. It had been several years since he had used the language the two had invented, but it didn't take him more than a few seconds to realize what his partner had told him.