As I freeze, two burning hands embrace me || soukoku ||

the sun has used up it's light, yet the lake remains frozen over.

Sunsets.
Most of chuuya's memories were when they occurred.
His moments of solitude and tranquility,
When the air was melancholy and wistful, when he was no more than a speck on the ever-turning world.
When relief and sadness became one:
When the sea lolled gently.
But he still preferred the sunrise.
Maybe because gaining the light hurt less than loosing it,
And the memories he had in the dark of night were now far unwelcome.
——
—
"Hyōketsuda Netsusawa," chuuya drawled, eying the two words placed ominously on the otherwise white and empty screen.

Fukuzawa frowned. His expression was unreadable. He walked round from behind the booth, till he stood next to the seated ginger.

Fukuzawa raised his eyebrows an inch or so, small enough to go unnoticed by even the most observant of people.
Chuuya noticed it.
Or atleast he noticed Fukuzawa wasn't saying jackshit.

"My apologies about that, the link must've broken. I shall contact your boss about it when I am free, however I currently have to respond to some emails. The armed detective agency will be dismissed early so you can have extra privacy but for now you are free to explore the building—I am sure one of our members would be willing to show you around." He concluded, clasping his hands behind his back.

Chuuya internally died. He lifted fucking Dazai Osamu by the collar and threatened to kill him. Why the hell would they want to give him a tour? And anyways, why the hell would he want one?

Fukuzawa picked up the laptop—pushing it shut—then ambled towards his oak desk, sitting poised in his black spiral chair.

When Chuuya walked past he spied a cat magazine beneath some worksheets which made him stop.
Oh yeah.
"I have a cat." He thought, realising that oh yeah. Yeah, he did have a cat.
"Do they have anyone looking after them?" Fukuzawa asked, making him almost jump out of his skin (Did he just mind read?!) till he realised he said he had a cat aloud.
Chuuya cleared his throat. "Ahem, not really. She's a bit...vile. Hates everyone. I showed Ane— a friend, to her and Mako ended up tearing the hem of her kimono and knocking the tea of the table." He reminisced, pulling up his sleeve to show Fukuzawa who nodded, his eyes caught on the strangely glistening white mark, then his golden watch—something chuuya hadn't noticed when it was buried beneath the fabric of his kimono.

"Well uh bye I guess..Oh can someone bring my cat? she might scratch people but I don't want her to starve to death or die of dehydration." He said casually, letting the door swing shut behind him as he exited the office.

When he got out he subconsciously frowned at the mess of the Ada, whose members were all consumed with phone calls and drudgery. Dumbasses work for hours then probably get the minimum wage. It was both dumb, hilarious and pitiful.

Chuuya searched the room for a space he could sit, settling with the sofa by the door, and flopped down on it.
He received a scowl from Mr blonde idealistic bitch and sat up frustratedly—returning the expression with a death stare. He pulled out his phone, just staring at the Lock Screen. Hyōketsuda Netsusawa huh? And the script that appeared on the screen, he recognised it. One of the symbols, it meant..
"why am I always so goddamn cold?" He huffed, pulling down his slee—
shit.
Oh shit.
On his arm was no longer a healing, pale patch of skin.
And chuuya didn't know why but the air was running from his lungs, and he had get out now, out out out.

The burn was no longer there. Instead replacing it was a patch as white as snow and as reflective as ice.

Like a frozen lake glimmering at the crack of dawn, the sun gleaming upon it.

——
__

He pulled his black sleeves down instantly, struggling to hide the horror of his face but managing anyways, right before a condescending figure burst into the room—A toothy grin etched onto his face.

"Hey chuuya waddya doing~~?" He drawled, bending over him to spy on what he was looking at.

"Piss off," chuuya snarled, moving the phone so he couldn't look.
Dazai somehow swiped it from his hand, gasping exaggeratedly when he saw the list of contacts. "Chuuya nakahara breaking one of the rules? I thought you were a goody-two-shoes!" He wailed with fake despair.

Chuuya had to fight the desperate need to spit in his face. "Give me my phone you waste of bandages!" He yapped, but before he could use his ability dazai poked him on the cheek.
Dazai's face was stuck in front of his, and chuuya slouched on the sofa despite himself. Dazai sneered, poking chuuya's cheek again. Chuuya didn't react.
Dazai did it again, his brow furrowing this time. Then he pressed the tip of his pointer finger against chuuya's cheek, doing a staring contest with him in the process.
"Is this actually the slug?" He called after two minutes, standing to face the rest of the members. Kunikida shrugged, atsushi gawked, and everyone else ignored him.

He squinted, wondering briefly if chuuya had eaten one of those mushrooms he'd had the pleasure of devouring a while back. Or maybe he'd been..Dazai's draw dropped. He spun back round to face the victim, whose hands were clasped on his right cheek, where dazai had poked him. He was glaring up at dazai.
Chuuya swore to god as soon he escaped this hell he would land a punch right in that bastards face.
Never mind. It was definitely chuuya.
——
—
A/N: Wtf is going on 😃