Etched Your Name Into Me

Chapter Two

Dazai is always injuring himself, that's nothing new, but it got worse once he left the Port Mafia, after the man he looked up to as a father figure died in his arms and told him to become a good man. His coworkers at the Armed Detective Agency were used to it, never really bothered to bat an eye when he attempted. Not that they didn't care about him, they all loved him of course, they were a good found family after Odasaku passed, they had just thought it was all jokes and got sick of it after sometime. Although, Dazai missed someone who took care of him throughout his attempts, like Chuuya had when he was working with the Port Mafia.

He'd never let anyone from the ADA see him this vulnerable. Lying on the ground in a pool of blood, an empty pill bottle next to him. He was going to tie a noose and hang himself from it to top it all off, but found he couldn't move without being in immense pain. Suddenly, thoughts of all the good moments in his short life flashed before him. Was this what they were talking about when they said 'my life flashed before my eyes'?

Dazai realised this isnt the first time he'd had this experience, no, when he'd fucked up this bad he'd always call Chuuya. But he knew he couldn't this time, he's mafia, afterall, and Dazai departed from them exactly a year ago. They're not on good terms, they aren't even on acceptable terms. He had abandoned Chuuya at the Port Mafia, and if that's not bad enough, he hadn't even bothered to speak with him since he left.

He'd gone this far because it had been a year since he left. He tried to drink the thought of it away at first, he'd drunk every bottle he could find in his apartment, but instead of making him feel better like it usually did, he found himself on the bathroom floor leaning over the toilet and vomiting his guts up, loud sobs escaping his throat as memories of all the times in the Lupin Bar with Ango and Odasaku, as well as the times when he was paired up with Chuuya for missions. Once finished emptying his stomach of the substance, he sat on his bed in the dark, swaying from how intoxicated he still was, until it felt like every sharp object in his apartment was screaming his name.

Ironic how he tells everyone he hates pain, it was one of the biggest lies he had ever told. He relishes in pain, in the punishment it gives him, in the relief and suffering it gave him all at the same time. He always hesitated when bringing the blade down and across his skin the first time, but now there are countless new slices through his flesh. He'd gotten lost in the feeling of the cool blade forcing itself deep into his warm body. Once losing the energy to run the blade into his skin he dropped it to the floor next to him, right next to a bottle of Lithium pills he had stolen from Mori years ago. He had stolen the pills after reading about them, and realising they might help with his mental state, except he never got around to starting them.

Dazai still felt like he hadn't punished himself enough as he stared at the pill bottle, he knew he hadn't. He picked up the bottle of pills, opening it with his teeth and staring down at the 24 pills stored in it. He only stared for a moment, he wouldn't take it if he thought too long and too hard about it, he poured half of it into his mouth, swallowing them all dry with three gulps. As he went to pour the rest into his mouth he felt like vomiting at the horrid, bitter taste of them lingering in his mouth and quickly took two big gulps of the last half-filled bottle of gin he had left beside him in hopes to keep the pills down. The gin seemed to burn the taste out of his mouth quickly so before he would pussy out from remembering the bitter taste he quickly poured the rest of the pills in his mouth, repeating his actions of swallowing them dry then chugging the rest of the gin to get rid of the taste.

His head fell back against the wall in exhaustion and dizziness. His eyes started to roll back, his lashes fluttering in warning of passing out. No. He couldn't let himself die now, he had too many people to apologise too, too much to say and do to make up for his horrible actions and crimes. He picked up his phone, but all he could do was stare at the screen. Who could he even call? No one from the ADA would bother showing up, and they would all be asleep at this time, there was no point in even trying to contact any of them. He pulled up his contacts and stared at the person he had as his emergency contact, Slug (Chuuya Nakahara). He hadn't bothered changing it after leaving the Mafia, he couldn't bring himself too. He hesitated, he shouldn't even think about asking Chuuya for help. Not after everything Dazai had put him through. Not after abandoning him. But what other choice did he have? Chuuya and Mori were the only two who had ever actually saved him from his self-destruction. After a moment he decided to give it a shot, and pressed the call button. He put his phone on speaker, putting it on the floor as he was too exhausted to hold it up. He listened as his phone rang through to voicemail, he had expected that.

Dazai had worked with and known Chuuya long enough to know he wouldn't pick up for at least two calls. Probably considering whether he should bother picking up, he knew Chuuya's head would be racing as to why Dazai would call him, especially after going ghost for one year. But the third call Chuuya would feel entitled to picking up, he was gullible like that. Dazai knew how good of a person Chuuya was the day they had met, he hated him for it. He hated Chuuya for the kind-hearted caring human he was. He hated that even though Dazai had manipulated him, made his family turn against him, and constantly hurt him, Chuuya still would help Dazai.

The third time Dazai pressed the call button and put his phone on speaker it only rang through twice before Chuuya's irritated, and if Dazai wasn't mistaken drunken voice growled through his phone, "what the hell do you want?"

"Chuuya," Dazai couldn't stop himself from saying in his slurred drunken voice, god he missed the sound of the short red-heads voice. He had suddenly forgotten the condition he was in, wanting to hear more of Chuuya's voice, "How are you?"

Silence filled the room, and it's like Dazai could feel the anger seeping into his phone from the other side of the line, it brought him back to reality and his whole body ached reminding him how close he was to taking his last breath.

There's a pause, wherein Dazai can't remember how to breathe properly enough to speak, it keeps escaping him to heave in and out. He hears Chuuya start to speak again, but before he could Dazai cuts him off, hoping he would understand just how much he needed him right now, even if he didn't deserve it.

"I need your help."

There was silence again, although Dazai could faintly hear Chuuya's breathing quicken as if in panic. Why was Chuuya panicking? Surely he didn't care that much about Dazai. He started losing hope that Chuuya would come to his rescue with each second of silence that passed by. Perhaps he was a fool to think Chuuya would help. He wouldn't hold it against him, in fact, Chuuya had every right to leave Dazai to die and rot in the pits of hell.

After a minute or two, Dazai was about to hang up for Chuuya, he couldn't stand the ongoing silence and was starting to accept his own death, but then Chuuya spoke up.

"Where are you?" Chuuya asked, his voice still sounded irritated and stern, although Dazai could just pick up on a hint of softness and worry.

"I'll send you the address," he said in a raspy voice, letting out a sigh of relief, and the phone hung up straight after. Dazai quickly typed his address into his phone, knowing he was spelling the street wrong but unable to fix it in his shaken up state.

Now all he could do was wait, Chuuya's apartment was only a 10 minute drive from his, 5 minutes if Chuuya were to speed on his motorcycle like he usually did. Dazai looked down at his mangled body, crumpled on his apartment floor like a ragdoll in a growing puddle of his own blood. His heart was racing to the point that each heartbeat felt like someone was hauling a sledgehammer against his chest, and he started hallucinating small black spiders crawling all around him and into his swollen cut up skin. He started to wonder if Chuuya would actually make it in time, or if today was the day Dazai finally succeeded in his constant attempts of suicide.

He felt himself losing consciousness, his eyes rolling into the back of his head and his body slowly leaning to the side. His heartbeat slowed down as each minute passed by, and it was getting harder and harder to breathe.

"Chuuya.." He whispered in a quiet raspy voice with the last strength he had left before losing all consciousness.