The heavy metal walls are cold against Dazai's bare feet as he slipped silently under the covers, moving his head to rest on the single pillow he allows himself.
It's raining.
That's good.
Dazai can listen to the gentle sound of rain repeatedly pattering down on the metal walls of his container. The sound soothe his mind as he rolls back and forth in an attempt to sleep.
He was never able to get much sleep, never in his whole life, in fact. He could stay in bed and still go days without his eyes slowly falling shut as the gentle lull of sleep pulls him closer.
That just wasn't how he worked. No, he was always awake, aware of every movement, every sound that rang out in the dead of night. The gears in his mind constantly turning and clicking as thoughts consumed him.
He lay awake thinking, night after long, boring night.
Sometimes, he would use that time to plan, to come up with methods of escape or torture. Things that would be beneficial to his role in the mafia, his use.
Other times, he would dream of something else: a person. His fiery ginger hair and piercing blue eyes which bore daggers into his flesh, leaving behind trails of invisible scars over top all the visible ones.
God, he couldn't get Chuuya out of his mind, no matter how hard he tried, he was in all of his thoughts, infecting them and getting in the way. Dazai couldn't stop his face, his smile, his freckles and his beautiful eyes from distracting him from his work. Leaving Mori unimpressed with his attitude and contributions as of late.
Dazai really didn't care about what Mori thought though, not at all.
He just cares about Chuuya.
