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

The dying are beautiful, but to live, to survive

Dazai rubbed his wrists slowly, his eyes pressed shut underneath a blindfold. His hands were handcuffed behind his back, and his body was tied with rope and seemed to have been thrown haphazardly onto the ground.

"You're sure they don't have anything else?"

"Probably. Fucking whatever, I didn't sign up to look through some kids' pockets. Especially not when they're knocked out and drugged and shit. Some guys here might be into that, but that sure as hell isn't me."

"Hey, make sure you get everything. The boss said these were important hostages. If they escape, that's skin off of our asses."

"Sure. He said that about that Bakugou kid, and he's not even here. D'ya know? They had him, but gave that motherfucker up. Important hostages my ass."

The voices began to fade as they left the room, their footsteps growing distant. The door closed, and Dazai was left with the sound of silence. He waited a few minutes, confirming their departure, and subtly twisted his cuffed hands around, reaching underneath his jacket and toward his back waistband, where a grey flip-phone was tucked.

He pulled it out, easily pushing the two halves apart with one hand. With his hands still behind his back and the screen out of his vision, he pressed several buttons in a complicated order, punching out words with the miniscule keyboard.

I guess it helps to practice.

The room was quiet, filled only with the sound of those clicking buttons, clicking away for several minutes. Finally, he pressed the send button for the last time, and lightly sighed. At that moment, the door was pushed open, breaking the silence.

"H-Hey... I did it." A fearful voice murmured. "You...you'll do what you promised if I finish the job tonight, right?"

Dazai paused, and lifted his head. He grinned lightly, his cheeks bloodless as they pulled themself into a smile. "Yep. All you need to do is finish it, and by tomorrow morning you don't have to worry about anything else." Even while blindfolded, one could imagine the expression on his face—a sinister, and yet endlessly kind one, one that didn't seem to forgive and yet one that was almost exceedingly merciful, a pair of eyes tilted into crescents and a set of teeth widening into a curve.

The man seemed to freeze, his shuffling feet unmoving. Underneath his breath, he could only muster one faint whisper: "I've sold my soul to a devil."

—

Chuuya sucked in a sharp breath of air as he felt his back impact the ground. For a second, he was disoriented, ready to open his eyes and stare at that familiar ceiling.

He realized something was wrong. His head throbbed worse than any hangover, as though his brain was jumping back and forth, floating around for a few seconds before once again bashing against his skull. His vision was dark, and he could feel a burning sensation along his wrists. As he wriggled his arms, the rope chafed through his clothes, tight around his body. Shit, right. We got captured.

He thought back to what happened as soon as he entered the portal with Dazai. A girl came at him with a syringe in hand, plunging the needle into his neck. She injected something into him, and before Chuuya could even activate his ability his consciousness had already begun to fade. He'd felt Dazai's body slip from his shoulder, and in that last moment he could only hope that that suicidal idiot hadn't accidentally fallen on his head.

So this was their plan, huh?

"Oh, they're awake. Perfect timing."

The blindfold around his eyes was torn away. The light almost blinded him, an orange haze over everything. Chuuya squinted for a few seconds, waiting for his vision to adjust, and when he could open his eyes wider he spotted Dazai's crumpled figure, pressed against his left shoulder, slowly beginning to stir. As he lifted his gaze he realized who stood around him.