Immortality [Dazai x Female Reader]

Chapter Thirty-Eight: The Cost of Numbness

The Armed Detective Agency's office was unusually quiet, a stark contrast to the usual bustling atmosphere. The weight of recent events hung in the air, with everyone on edge, waiting for something—anything—to happen. Dazai, more than anyone, had been on high alert, pacing restlessly. His thoughts were constantly on Y/N, wondering where she was, what state she was in, and how he could possibly get her back.

But today, something unexpected broke the tension.

The doors of the agency creaked open, and every head turned in shock. Standing in the doorway, with his usual calculated grace, was none other than Fyodor Dostoevsky. And beside him, almost as if she were a ghost of her former self, was Y/N.

Dazai's heart stopped the moment he saw her. She looked pale—no, more than pale. She looked like she was barely alive. Her once vibrant eyes were dull, her skin unnaturally clammy, and she moved like a puppet on strings. Dazai's sharp instincts instantly told him something was wrong. Something was terribly wrong.

Fyodor stepped into the office, his eerie calm filling the space. "Good afternoon, everyone," he greeted, his voice as smooth and unsettling as ever. "I believe this belongs to you."

Dazai's eyes never left Y/N as she stood beside Fyodor, swaying on her feet. His chest tightened. There was no mistaking it—she had taken too many of those damn pills. He had known something was off, but seeing her like this...

Without a second thought, Dazai made his way toward her. "Y/N," he said softly, his voice cracking just a little, though he tried to hide it. "What happened?"

Y/N lifted her head slightly, her lips parting as if she wanted to say something, but the words never came. Her legs gave out before she could respond. In a flash, Dazai caught her, cradling her fragile form in his arms as she fell unconscious. Her breathing was shallow, her body limp.

"Y/N!" he called, his voice now frantic as he shook her slightly, trying to rouse her. But there was no response.

"Dazai, calm down," Fyodor's voice cut through the chaos, his tone annoyingly nonchalant. "She's alive, just in a temporary... state. Too many of her little pills, I'm afraid. A dangerous habit for someone with her immortality. She can't die, no, but the pain... well, she's been in a lot of it, hasn't she?"

Dazai glared at Fyodor, fury boiling in his chest. "You let this happen," he growled, barely able to contain his anger. "You knew she was spiraling, and you did nothing."

Fyodor merely shrugged, his smirk infuriatingly calm. "She made her choice, Dazai. And she served her purpose. I'm simply returning her to you. Consider it a gesture of goodwill."

Dazai didn't respond. His focus was entirely on Y/N, who was lying motionless in his arms. Her skin was cold to the touch, her breathing dangerously faint. He could see the toll the pills had taken on her, the way her body had weakened despite her immortality.

Behind him, the rest of the agency watched in stunned silence. Yosano, always the first to act in a crisis, moved quickly. "Bring her into the infirmary," she ordered, her voice sharp and focused. "We need to stabilize her before her body shuts down any further."

Dazai didn't hesitate, lifting Y/N effortlessly and following Yosano down the hall to the infirmary. His heart pounded in his chest, a mixture of fear and guilt gnawing at him. How had it come to this? How had he let her slip so far away?

As Y/N was placed on the infirmary bed, Yosano immediately went to work, setting up IVs and checking her vitals. "She's in a deep coma," Yosano said after a moment, her brow furrowing in concentration. "An overdose, like Fyodor said. Her body's been through hell, but she'll pull through. The coma should last about a week, maybe longer."

A week. The words hit Dazai like a ton of bricks. He slumped into a chair beside Y/N's bed, his head in his hands. He couldn't shake the image of her lifeless body, the way she had collapsed in his arms. He had failed her. He had promised to protect her, to be there for her, and now she was lying in a coma because she hadn't trusted him enough to tell him what she was going through.

Kunikida, who had been silently watching the scene unfold, placed a hand on Dazai's shoulder. "You couldn't have known, Dazai," he said quietly. "She made this decision on her own."

"But that's just it, isn't it?" Dazai muttered, his voice hollow. "She didn't trust me enough to tell me. She... she felt like she had to go through it alone."

The room fell into a heavy silence, the weight of Y/N's actions pressing down on all of them. Fyodor's parting words echoed in Dazai's mind, a reminder of just how deep the rift between him and Y/N had grown. And now, she was paying the price.

As the minutes ticked by, Dazai never left Y/N's side. He sat there, holding her hand, watching over her as she lay unconscious. He couldn't lose her. Not like this.

---

Later that night, after everyone had left, Dazai sat alone in the infirmary, the rhythmic beeping of the monitors the only sound in the room. Y/N's hand was still cold, her expression peaceful but unnervingly empty.

"I'm sorry," Dazai whispered, his voice barely audible in the quiet room. "I should've seen it sooner. I should've been there for you..."

But there was no response. No witty remark, no quiet smile. Just the steady rise and fall of her chest, a fragile sign of life amidst the silence.

And for the first time in a long while, Dazai felt utterly powerless.

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