Little Doll (Mafia!Dazai x reader)

(C. 22) Three Hours

A/N gross gross gross!! I did not like writing that last chapter. Thats all.

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He had broken out into a run after shutting the door to Mori's office gently behind him. The first place he had checked had been Y/n's room. It was obvious she wouldn't be there, wouldn't feel safe there, but did it anyways. He couldn't think of anywhere at all on Mafia premises that she would feel safe, he thought it was worth a shot.

Relentlessly, he tore through the building, checking crevices and asking anyone and everyone he ran into if they had seen a girl in a red dress. It had taken him close to three hours to find her. 

She was backed into a corner under one of the maintenance staircases, knees pulled tightly to her chest. There were tear tracks running down her cheeks as she looked up at him. He made to approach her, but stopped when he saw the way she pressed herself further into the wall. Crouching down where he stood, about five feet away, so they were at least at eye level, he asked the first question that came to mind.

"Are you okay?"

The words felt foolish, of course she wasn't. He didn't know what other words were there to express his concern, he was completely at a loss. 

Y/n didn't answer, just pulled her knees a little tighter to her chest. Her hands were turning white from the force with which she held herself.

"Y/n-" Dazai began and was almost grateful when she cut him off, he didn't know what he was going to say next.

"Just leave me alone." 

He had never heard her voice so sharp. It cut through the air with a force, it left bodies in its wake.

"I'm worried about you."

"Fuck off."

"Y/n-"

"Just leave me alone!" she yelled, pulling herself out of the corner and finally standing before him.

Her eyes were rimmed with red and her fists clenched. She trembled where she stood, but her voice remained firm.

"I just want to make sure you're alright."

She scoffed. His words were meaningless, they were tattered paper falling to the floor.

"Please, Dazai. Just stop. Just leave me alone." she turned her back to him.

Dazai took a step towards her as she wrapped her arms around herself once more. He reached out.

"Y/n, what is going on?"

"I don't want to see you anymore." she said, her voice small and full of ice.

With those final words, she took off running down the stairs. Dazai's arm fell limply to his side, his eyes fixed on the space she had just occupied. He stayed like that for a while. They didn't see one another after that.

An abrupt change occurred after that day. It was not like he was avoiding her, and he hoped in his heart of hearts it wasn't Y/n avoiding him, but they didn't see each other anymore regardless of their intents and at the end of the day, he knew her well enough to know the truth. There were no more missions as a trio, none even shared between just Y/n and Dazai or Y/n and Chuuya. There were no more training sessions, she failed to show up for their monthly sleep over, they no longer took over empty conference rooms to do work together. 

Chuuya didn't ask about what had happened. Even if he had, Dazai had no answers. The only good thing to come out of any of this was that after that night, their work loads seemed to miraculously return to normal. It only verified Dazai's suspicions that this was all somehow Mori's plan. Whatever he had wanted had been achieved.

He had tried once or twice to come to her room, the way he used to with such frequency. There was never any response to his knocking however, and he didn't have the heart to actually break in. It all felt so deeply wrong now. He threw himself into his training of Akutagawa.

The rumors fed his hungry soul. As it turns out, Y/n had not stopped going on missions and doing field work, she had just stopped doing it with him. It was easy to pick out what bits and pieces of conversations overheard in hallways and meetings were about her. How many other young girls in knee length dresses and kid heels were doing this kind of work?

She was getting good, becoming a true force to be reckoned with it seemed. The nickname gifted to her by Chuuya what now felt like a lifetime ago was something whispered around dark corners. It floated not just through the hallways of the Mafia's buildings, but the very streets of Yokohama themselves. It was like she followed him without even being there.

Have you heard of that girl? The little girl in lolita dresses? The one they call the Shark?

That urban legend? What about it?

My cousin saw her last night.

No way!

With the rumors came not just tabs on her progress as a mafioso, but the very nature of Y/n's work. It got to a point where most of the stories had more to do with the way she fought then who she fought for. 

"It was insane!" he heard one new recruit saying to her friend as they walked down the hallway, heading the opposite direction as him, "She just kept throwing herself at the guy and he just kept killing her, again and again. She got back up every time."

"Did she win?" the friend had asked.

"She literally couldn't lose!" the first had exclaimed right as they fell out of earshot.

Dazai didn't understand. After everything they had been through, after all of it, how could she just disappear? Had he done something wrong? Was this all his fault?

It wasn't like Dazai didn't know, on some level, that something like this was happening. He had seen the bruises, and then there was that one night he had walked in on her asleep. There was even her odd statement about Mori wanting her to stay a child. Sometimes, you can realize something, and still not know it, still not have it hit home, until it was too late.

Besides, Dazai had had his suspicions but thought it was all a thing of the past, thought that with her new found freedom and everything, it was not something Y/n had to deal with anymore. The bruises had become so much more infrequent hadn't they? Or had they just intermingled with the injuries that come from being a member of the Port Mafia? How foolish had he been? Could he have done anything to stop it?

Why, why would she just disappear like that? He was too overwhelmed by it all to consider the implications of his worries, the depth of his feelings and their nature. Too full of loss even to think about creation. Tormented, the days blurred together.