CURSED SUICIDE (MxM)

Chapter 18

CHUUYA POV

He threw the bloody bandages in the bin under Satoru's sink and leaned on the counter, arms crossed, his usual frown in place.

"What were you thinking?"

"It was all part of the plan."

Chuuya scoffed. Always the plan, always the fucking plan. And never Dazai's own wellbeing. If the bastard hated pain, then why was he making his own life a living hell? Chuuya couldn't understand, maybe a part of him didn't even want to. And that's what angered him most.

"What plan? You are bleeding out on the carpet, Dazai!"

Dazai ignored him and an uncomfortable silence settled between them. Chuuya was pissed. No, scratch that. Pissed couldn't even begin to describe it this time.

"You fucked up, Dazai. And you fucked up big time." Chuuya glared at his partner. "You have a lot of enemies, that's not a surprise to anybody. But how did you come to this? You've never been touched; you always have a plan."

"And it is all part of the plan."

Chuuya stared at the mackerel. The deep, dark nothingness in his brown eyes was unsettling. Chuuya could never get used to it. He didn't know how Oda did, how Ango did. But he knew he never would. And maybe that's why they were such a good team. They walked together, but never really together. And that must count for something because if it didn't then that would mean Chuuya wasted years of his life fighting for something that wasn't even there.

"We're double black. Soukoku. We've always been unbeatable." Chuuya murmurs and ignores the cold flat stare that Dazai gives him.

"Where are you going with this?"

"I believe you don't even need to ask, mackerel."

There wasn't hatred in the nickname, wasn't some hidden meaning or some venom, spout with disdain. It was plain, something tired and little that was making its way in between them slowly but surely. Chuuya didn't know what to call this sinking feeling in his stomach. And he didn't even really try to search for words.

"No. We're going back." Dazai's voice was hard, no emotion in sight, laced with something Chuuya couldn't exactly pinpoint. "I found a way. It'll only take a few days at most."

"A few days." Chuuya repeated, lost in thought. "And what about the students? What about all the people we will be leaving behind?"

"What about them?"

Demon prodigy of the Port Mafia. That's what Dazai was to hundreds of people, sometimes even to Chuuya. How could he let himself think otherwise?

"You're becoming attached, Chuuya."

"And why are you not?" Chuuya shot back, vigor anew in his trembling voice. "Do you wish to return to Mori's side so much? Why are you so hell bend on going back? Don't you see this place, Dazai? It's free from the Port Mafia, it's free from Mori and all his schemes and plans and all the killing of innocent people!"

"This has never bothered you before."

"Maybe I'm just tired of watching my comrades die every day, fighting for a non-existent cause, following Mori's silver lined words!"

Dazai got up faster than Chuuya could predict with all the wounds on his body. The mackerel advanced towards him, settling his hands on the counter and trapping Chuuya. For a short moment, the ginger couldn't breathe.

"You have the power to stand up and against Mori, you have the people who'll blindly follow you anywhere." Dazai's words were nothing but mere whispers, but even they were too loud for the silence that was settled between them. "Why haven't you?"