you can take my Soul, but never my Heart (omegaverse)

Chapter 13: Life for a deal with the devil

Dazai has never liked hospitals.

He can admit that he has a white coat phobia about these kinds of places, but it isn't because of what the doctors do. They just remind him too much of Mori. Every white coat in his peripheral could be Mori, and after the conversation he had with Fukuzawa, it's triggering some sort of fight or flight every time he sees a doctor pass by. He has the door shut to the room now, sure, but it's still far from a comfortable place to be.

The sterile atmosphere, thanks to the work of blocking technology to ensure it smells of blank nothingness, grates on his nerves and unsettles him. The problem is that it does smell; it smells of disinfectant and blood, of cleaning solution and antiseptic. There's a muted urgency within the walls as lives are saved in exchange for lives lost. So much death in one place; so much sickness. A hospital is a place to suffer, and he can't help but pity the poor souls left here to expire.

But seeing Ango bandaged nearly head-to-toe does put a smile on his face. The colors on the massive bouquet Dazai has sat on his bedside table are the only vibrancy. The blockers in the air are so strong that he can't even smell the pollen from them.

"Care to make a deal?"

It's been a full day since the crash. Ango spent the time mostly unconscious, going in and out of surgeries. Today, he's finally cognizant, though Dazai had put a stop to his pain medication. The more suffering, the better. It makes the deal sweeter.

"I had something for you," Ango says instead. And even now, even as broken as he is, he still speaks with that damning monotone. "Check the breast pocket."

Curious, Dazai picks up the coat slung over the foot of the bed, sticking his hand in the mentioned pocket to pull out a small, square envelope. He glances to Ango, looking for any tells, but there aren't any. So he carries it with him, sitting back down with an exaggerated sigh in the chair next to the man's bed.

"Listen to what I have to say, first," Dazai hedges, tucking the envelope into his own coat pocket for later. "I think you'll rather like it."

Ango gives him a flat look.

He smiles, letting his eyes linger on the brace of his neck, the cast on his arm, the matching one on his leg... If the car had hit them any harder, if it had been any bigger, there's the chance that Ango would have died. "You're aware of the agency's Doctor Yosano, aren't you? She could have you feeling right as rain in a few minutes. I can have her work her gift on you if you do something for me in exchange."

"What is it?" He doesn't sound excited, but he doesn't sound bored either. It's maddening, how professional his indifference is. Perfect for a double agent. Even still, he seems interested, so Dazai continues.

"Erase Kyouka's criminal records and release her."

Three beeps of the heart monitor pass before Ango sighs, looking tired. "The legal gears turn slowly. I can do my best, but she will need to stand trial, since she's already in custody. Appeals will have to be made. It would take weeks, at the very least."

"But it can be done?"

He raises a brow. It's the most expression he's seen on him. "I was able to clear your record. She just needs to be an official member of the agency."

Right. They haven't actually done that yet. Kyouka has had a job, yes, but not a test that Fukuzawa has granted her membership for.

"Mm, that's fair."

A pause, a handful of beeps, and then, "Dazai."

He slouches. He's done here, now that he's got what he wanted. Kyouyou will be sated, and Dazai is pleased with his promise from yesterday to provide cover if or when Dazai leaves the city. He could walk out of here, or at least call Yosano. "What?"