Immortality [Dazai x Female Reader]

Chapter Thirty-Nine: Unlikely Comfort

The day after Y/N's collapse dragged on painfully slow. The agency was eerily quiet, weighed down by the tension of what had transpired. Y/N remained unconscious in the infirmary, her body fighting to recover from the overdose. Dazai hadn't left her side, his usual carefree demeanor shattered, replaced by a dark, suffocating guilt.

He barely noticed the hours slipping by as he sat at her bedside, gripping her hand in his. A thousand thoughts raced through his mind—how he had failed her, how he could've done more, how he should have seen the signs. His sharp instincts felt dulled by the overwhelming emotion, something he wasn't used to dealing with, especially not when it came to someone like Y/N.

The door creaked open softly, and Dazai didn't bother to look up. He figured it was Kunikida or Atsushi, checking in on him as they had been doing since Y/N was brought in. But instead, the sound of familiar footsteps filled the room, accompanied by a voice that always grated on Dazai's nerves.

"Oi, Dazai," Chuuya's voice rang out, though quieter than usual. "You look like shit."

Dazai finally lifted his gaze, his eyes narrowing as he met Chuuya's. "And here I thought you'd stopped caring about me."

Chuuya leaned against the doorway, his arms crossed, but his usual scowl was softened—just barely. "Don't flatter yourself. I came to check on her," he said, nodding toward Y/N. "Heard she's in bad shape."

Dazai's eyes flickered toward Y/N's still form, the guilt twisting in his chest once again. "She is," he muttered. "Too many of her so-called 'happy pills.'"

Chuuya let out a sigh, pushing himself off the doorframe and walking further into the room. He eyed Y/N for a moment, his brow furrowing slightly. "Damn, she looks worse than I expected." He looked at Dazai. "So, what? You're just gonna sit here and brood until she wakes up?"

Dazai didn't answer immediately, his eyes fixed on Y/N. His voice was quieter than usual, devoid of its typical sarcasm. "What else can I do, Chuuya? She's in this state because of me."

Chuuya raised an eyebrow, genuinely surprised at the admission. He pulled up a chair and sat across from Dazai, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees. "Because of you? Seriously, Dazai? Since when do you take the blame for other people's decisions?"

Dazai shot him a glare, his frustration finally bubbling to the surface. "You don't get it. She didn't trust me. She kept everything from me—her plan with Fyodor, her struggles, all of it. And I didn't even notice until it was too late."

Chuuya's expression softened slightly, though he tried to hide it with a sarcastic smirk. "Wow. Dazai Osamu, having feelings. Didn't think I'd live to see the day."

Dazai scoffed, leaning back in his chair and running a hand through his hair. "This isn't a joke, Chuuya. I let her down. She felt like she had to go through this alone."

For a moment, there was silence between them, a rare moment of genuine tension without the usual bickering. Chuuya glanced at Y/N, then back at Dazai, his usual gruffness fading just a bit. "Look, Dazai, you can't control what she does. You know better than anyone that people like us—people who've been through hell—we don't always know how to let others in. Especially not when we're hurting."

Dazai stared at Chuuya, not expecting the sudden shift in tone. "What are you trying to say?"

Chuuya sighed, clearly uncomfortable with what he was about to say. "I'm saying that Y/N didn't keep you out because she didn't care or didn't trust you. She did it because she thought she was protecting you. That's what we do when we care about someone—we push them away so we don't hurt them."

Dazai blinked, caught off guard by Chuuya's words. He wasn't used to this side of him—the side that could actually offer something resembling emotional advice. "And you know this how?"

Chuuya rolled his eyes, leaning back in his chair. "I'm not an idiot, Dazai. I've seen it enough times to know how it works. Hell, I've done it myself. But that doesn't mean it's your fault."

Dazai remained quiet for a moment, his gaze shifting back to Y/N. He knew Chuuya was right, but that didn't make the guilt any easier to swallow. "What if she doesn't wake up, Chuuya?" he asked softly, his voice betraying the fear he'd been hiding. "What if she stays like this because of what I didn't do?"

Chuuya shook his head. "She'll wake up. She's strong, Dazai. Stronger than either of us, probably. You just have to be here when she does. That's all you can do."

For a moment, Dazai didn't respond. He let Chuuya's words sink in, his eyes never leaving Y/N's face. There was something about seeing her like this that cut deeper than anything he'd ever felt. He'd faced death more times than he could count, but this—this felt different. He couldn't lose her.

Chuuya stood up, stretching a bit before turning toward the door. "I'll leave you to it, but if you keep beating yourself up like this, I'm gonna have to kick your ass."

Dazai let out a dry laugh, the first real sign of life in hours. "Yeah, yeah. Thanks, Chuuya."

Chuuya paused at the door, glancing back one last time. "Just don't screw it up, Dazai. She's worth it."

And with that, Chuuya left, leaving Dazai alone with his thoughts—and with Y/N.

As the door clicked shut behind him, Dazai sighed, leaning forward and resting his forehead against Y/N's hand. "You better wake up soon, Y/N," he whispered. "I don't know how much longer I can wait."

The room remained silent, save for the soft beeping of the machines. But for the first time since Y/N had collapsed, Dazai felt just a sliver of hope. Maybe Chuuya was right. Maybe all he needed to do was be there for her when she woke up.

And when she did, he'd make sure she knew she didn't have to go through any of this alone anymore.

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