To See You Again (Chuuya Nakahara x Reader x Dazai Osamu)

Chapter Thirteen

Her eyes were wide and empty as she entered the room, her clothes disheveled. Blood was dripping from the finger tips of each hand and Chuuya thought he caught a glimpse of bruises on her neck.

"Are you okay? What happened?"

Y/n did not respond. Moving ghostlike from the door, she made her way over to the dresser. With her back turned and her hair out of the way, Chuuya saw fresh cut letters on the back of her neck, surrounded by a wider, older scar of the same shape. PM they read and Y/n shut the drawer slightly, a pile of clothing balanced in her hands.

Unceremoniously, she dropped the pile on the bed and without thought, moved to unbutton her shirt.

"Whoa, you could warn a guy!" Chuuya exclaimed, quickly turning around, his cheeks flushed.

"Huh?"

It was only now Y/n seemed to recognize his presence, turning her head slightly to see his back turned to her before continuing her task.

"Why would I need to do that?"

Her voice was small and quiet which only served to feed the growing concern in Chuuya's chest.

"Just, tell me when I can turn around. We need to talk."

After a few minutes, he felt a tap on his shoulder. When he turned around, he saw Y/n was now wearing a knee length black pinafore dress with a dark green lace shirt and matching tights beneath it. He understood what Mori meant when he had asked her to look the part, she was of the earth.

Suddenly, he realized he had been wrong. Chuuya had thought he had never seen Y/n before, never encountered her, but a hazy memory rose to the surface in his mind of a young girl in cuffs with a bag over her head being walked down the hallway. It also did not escape his notice that the picture of the young girl on Mori's desk he'd always wondered about was probably her as well.

Taking both her hands in his, he lead Y/n over to the bed and they sat down.

"What happened?"

His voice was as earnest as Y/n's was empty when she responded.

"You were right."

"About what?"

"My ability has its weak points. When someone keeps themselves very clean, and covers all their skin, I'm useless."

"Y/n, what happened?"

"He reminded me who I was."

"And the brand?"

"He reminded me who I belong to."

"And..." words escaped him and he feared the answer he knew would come if he asked his third question.

"It's okay, really. I deserved it, I've been bad."

"I'm supposed to be the one comforting you, not the other way around."

Without response, Y/n simply stared at him with her wide, dead eyes. There was something childlike about her now, Chuuya didn't know what to do to help.

"I found your journals."

Her eyes betrayed nothing. Letting go of her hands, Chuuya sighed.

"Fuck." he said under his breath.

"Is there someone you want me to kill?" she queried.

"How many people have you killed Y/n?"

"As many as I have been told to."

She always seemed to possessed, so in control of herself. There had always just been the anger, Even though she had flat out told him that she was, Chuuya had never accounted for the fact that Y/n might be afraid of something. He thought she was above it all, sitting on the roof with her pack of cigarettes. He was regretting that now.

"Would you like to try to grow something?" he asked, struck with sudden inspiration.

Y/n hesitated for a second before nodding slowly.

"I liked doing that."

Abruptly, Chuuya stood.

"I'll be back."

----

Mori was not entirely shocked when Chuuya stormed into his office about a half hour after he'd sent Y/n to her room.

"What the fuck did you do to her?" he fumed.

"And here I thought you'd learned your lesson after everything that happened with Dazai. The Mafia is no place for feelings."

The implication only caused the anger Chuuya felt to grow and he slammed his hands down on the desk.

"What did you do to her."

It was not a question any more but a demand.

"Nothing that hasn't been done before."

Chuuya straightened himself again.

"You're rather like her in some ways only, you know how to behave."

Getting the message, Chuuya stormed out of the office, exiting as quickly as he'd entered and with the same ferocity. That girl in the room down the hall seemed to mean more to him than he had previously believed and if this was the life she had ahead of her, he wasn't going to stand for it. He knew she'd done terrible things but he also now knew that she'd never had a chance to do anything else. It wasn't like the situation he was in where he'd had the choice and just gone deeper, gotten worse. There had never been another option for Y/n.

He stormed through the streets of Yokohama, trying to calm himself, to organize his thoughts. When Chuuya at last returned to the Mafia headquarters, hours later, he did so with a gift in hand. He entered Y/n's room she was right where he had left her, sitting on the edge of her bed and deep in thought.

"Here."

Looking up, she saw the pot of dirt in his hands. He placed it on the night table and looked at her expectantly. There was a hesitation in her movements Chuuya had not seen before as Y/n picked the pot up and put it in her lap. She looked at it for a moment before turning her gaze to Chuuya.

"What if it doesn't work?"

"Then it doesn't work." he shrugged, "No harm no foul."

Sighing, Y/n rested the tips of her fingers on the dirt and closed her eyes. Watching on in amazement, Chuuya saw the pot slowly fill with grass.

"Y/n..."

Hearing her name fall from his lips, she opened her eyes and gasped in shock at what she had done. A smile fell onto her face and it wasn't like anything he'd previously seen from her. This one wasn't wolfish and violent or small and honest, but wide and full of hope.

He left her like that, sitting on the edge of her bed and marveling at her own creation. Something must be done to fix this.