I pray for your mind, I pray for my soul

the day that I met you I started dreaming

Title: Kingston, by Faye Webster

Fourteen: Osamu Dazai

Dazai always knew that Chuuya needed him. Not Dazai; Chuuya did not need Dazai. Chuuya needed Dazai's ability for freedom, a simple exchange. Mori had explained it to Dazai, that Chuuya was something that Mori wanted to make great, to hound. Dazai was high on meds, barely understood what he meant.

"You weren't supposed to get close to Nakahara." Mori sneers. Dazai's hands are shaking– he's not supposed to be scared of Mori, he knows how Mori is, he's been through this.

A rough slap is echoed through the room. Dazai's unsure of what he did, he's confused for a few moments. "Osamu. Listen to me." He grabs Dazai by his hair, forcing the boy to look.

"Chuuya Nakahara is only someone you watch. You only will touch him when needed to deactivate his ability." Mori explains. "I'm still trying to figure out how to extract your ability, so until then, listen to me." He's rough and scary, Dazai stares at him, watchful dull eyes keen to escape.

"Alright," The man explains, "Let's go, I have some tests that need to be done." Dazai trails behind them as they walk to the back of the office.

Mori pushes open the door to reveal a clinical room filled with various pieces of equipment, each more intimidating than the last. Dazai is led to a metal chair in the centre of the room, its cold, unyielding surface a stark reminder of his current predicament. Mori's assistant, a woman with a no-nonsense demeanour, waits by a table covered in syringes and strange contraptions.

"We'll begin with a few basic tests to determine the full extent of your ability's effects," Mori explains. "I need to understand how it interacts with Chuuya's ability, and how we can exploit that to our advantage."

Dazai's gaze drifts towards the window, where he can see the distant skyline of the city. It's a reminder of the world outside this cold, sterile space—an outside he's desperate to return to, if only to reclaim some semblance of freedom. He knows that's impossible, ability users are banded.

As the tests begin, Mori's instructions are cold and methodical. He watches with clinical detachment as the woman; Elise administers injections and performs various assessments. Dazai's body reacts to the tests in ways that are both frightening and fascinating, each response noted and recorded meticulously.

When the tests are finally over, Mori nods approvingly and dismisses the Elise. He turns to Dazai, his expression a mask of calculated satisfaction. "We've learned a lot today, Osamu. Keep this in mind: your obedience is crucial. Fail me, and the consequences will be severe."

Dazai swallows hard, the weight of Mori's words settling heavily on his shoulders. He nods silently, watching as Mori exits the room, leaving him alone with his thoughts and the oppressive silence of the clinical space.

Yosano finds him sitting in the bed still, he doesn't see her; but she shakes her head, frowning softly. She looks at the boy's gaze, distant and gone.

"Dazai-kun?" She questions, making her voice soft, this is not the first time she's seen Dazai in this state, Mori must've gone hard today. She should've expected it, Mori's been in a bad mood since yesterday.

Seeing no immediate reaction, Yosano reached into her medical bag, pulling out a small, wrapped ice pack. She knew from experience that the cold sensation could help ground him, even when she couldn't physically touch him. She placed the ice pack gently on the bedside table, ensuring it was within his line of sight.

"Dazai-kun, I have something for you," she said softly. "It might help."

As he remained unresponsive, Yosano waited patiently, her gaze fixed on him with concern. After a few moments, he slowly shifted his attention to the ice pack, his eyes showing a flicker of recognition. With deliberate slowness, he reached for it, and Yosano saw the faintest glimmer of acknowledgment in his eyes.