@LoveRedheads: I'm sorry if I ever made you feel like you weren't enough.
@LoveRedheads: I'm sorry if I hurt your feelings in any way.
@LoveRedheads: I'm sorry if you ever felt pressured to text me when you didn't want to. I know I can be needy.
Sent ✓ at 22:09
Read at ?
Chuuya stared at the notifications on his phone. To say his heart was racing would've been an understatement. His chest tightened with worry, an unfamiliar feeling gnawing at him. Was @LoveRedheads okay? Was Dazai okay? He wasn't entirely sure yet if his online friend was really Dazai, but he couldn't shake the sinking suspicion. Regardless, something was clearly wrong. Chuuya wasn't the type to sit idly when he felt he could do something about it. Without wasting another second, he shot a text to Dazai.
Chuuya: "Hey, mackerel. Come over. I got a new game and no one to play it with."
As soon as he hit send, he turned back to his conversation with @LoveRedheads.
@LeFestin: Hey man, what's going on? Are you okay?
Sent ✓ at 22:14
Read at 23:56
Time crawled by, and Chuuya kept glancing at his phone, growing more and more anxious with each passing minute. His gut twisted, thoughts swirling with what-ifs. Then, finally, a knock on the door broke the tension.
Chuuya opened the door to find Dazai standing there, soaked in bloodstained bandages, his usual smirk nowhere in sight. Chuuya's heart lurched.
"What the hell happened to you?" he blurted, panic lacing his voice. But before Dazai could answer, Chuuya's tone softened, concern taking over. "Are you... okay?"
"Life's hard for a 16-year-old boy," Dazai responded with a hollow chuckle, sidestepping the actual question entirely.
Chuuya's brow furrowed, but he held back his frustration. "Sit on the sofa. There's a blanket there. I'll go run you a bath."
Without waiting for a response, Chuuya rushed off to the bathroom, his mind still racing. He grabbed extra towels and started filling the tub with warm water, adding a bit of soap. Dazai didn't deserve his help—not after all the crap he'd pulled—but this wasn't about that. Seeing Dazai like this, so vulnerable, made Chuuya's chest ache. He wasn't sure if it was pity or something deeper.
After preparing the bath, Chuuya rummaged through his closet, finally finding an oversized pajama set he'd bought months ago but had never worn. He figured it might work, though Dazai had grown a good 15 centimeters in the past year.
"Hey, your bath's ready," Chuuya called as he stepped back into the living room, startling Dazai out of whatever dark thoughts had consumed him.
"Oh... there was no need," Dazai said, his voice unusually soft, almost... innocent. It was disconcerting.
"You looked like you needed it," Chuuya mumbled, showing Dazai to the bathroom. He explained what was in the tub, how to use everything, then turned to leave when Dazai's quiet voice stopped him.
"Chuuya... Can you wash my hair?"
The question hung in the air, so simple and yet so disarming. Dazai, the manipulative and sharp-tongued Dazai, asking for something so small, so vulnerable. Chuuya hesitated for a second, searching Dazai's face for a hint of mockery or a hidden motive, but there was none. Just the hollow look of someone who needed a moment of care.
