forget who i am today. + soukoku, fyoya

a puppet's beginning

A/N: Hello, I apologize for the wait on the seventh chapter. A lot of things have happened since May and I have not had the strength to write another chapter, I hope you understand! I have every intention on finishing this story and possibly a sequel but I am a human being and I have a life to live. Please be patient with me. Thank you all for the support on this story <3 Without further ado, happy reading!

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He doesn't really know how long it has been since the boy left after cleaning him up but he imagines that it has been a while because he's starting to feel again. The drug must be wearing off now as he can feel the dull ache in his empty sockets become sharp pain. He grits his teeth to prevent himself from making a sound but the action only makes his head hurt.

Chuuya knows that eye removal is irreversible and that he would never be able to have his eyes back as they were. Having a boss who is also a doctor in every aspect (or so he claims) does wonders for Chuuya's medical knowledge. 

Speaking of... 

If he ever gets out of here, how can he go back to the mafia? Without his eyes, he'll be considered useless. But they make prosthetic eyes, don't they? Then he chides himself because prosthetic eyes won't restore his vision, dumbass. 

Rely...instincts...

The voice doesn't startle him enough to make a noise but he still jolts in his spot, causing him to wince and raise a hand to his head as if it would help his headache and the agony of his eyes missing. 

Wait, raise a hand?

Chuuya flexes his hand open and close, surprised that he was able to move his arm after being restricted for a long time (hours, days, weeks, months? he doesn't know) and it aches from not being used in a while. He rolls both of his shoulders and almost sags in relief at knowing that he still has both of his arms.

Arahabaki huffs in the back of his head at not being acknowledged and Chuuya feels amused, despite the situation they're in.

Sorry, bud. I need to  make sure my limbs are intact. 

Legs... gone...

He pauses as the amusement completely leaves his body and replaces with terror. He can feel the way his skin goes pale as a shudder runs through his body. Panicking, he tries to wiggle his toes but to no avail. There's no movement and when he reaches down - he can only feel his thighs but below the thighs, there's only a cold ground.

His legs are gone.

His legs are gone. 

But it doesn't hurt.

How long have they been gone?

How long had he been dangling from the ceiling without his legs?

How long has he been stuck here for them to not hurt?

Out of desperation, he traces the end of his thighs but they're healed. He feels the scars but there are no stitches or staples or bandages. There's nothing to indicate that this is fresh. Horror takes over him as he finally processes what this means. 

He's going to die here.

He's going to die here and nobody will find him.

Because his legs are gone and the wound has healed.

SOMEWHERE IN ENGLAND

Dazai feels nothing but dread, his mind is blank, and his hands are whitening from gripping the edge of the desk. There's movement beside him but he ignores it as he stares at the screen in front of him. He's not processing the information because this can't be happening. There's no way but the answer of why Chuuya has been captured is right in front of him and he can't believe what he's seeing.