Uncontrollable || Dazai Osamu » book 1 ✓

22 | Eternal Darkness

"Watch out!"

"Huh- Oof!"

It all happened so quickly that Dazai didn't have the time to process what just happened. He knew that he had just been pushed down and that had landed — hard — on his back.

The shopping bags flew across the air and was strewn all over the floor, creating a mess. Dazai groaned in pain and he attempted to sit upright when a navy dress fluttered and landed on his face, covering his vision.

He snatched the dress away and was met with wide (e/c) orbs. She had a hand on his firm chest and was her face was hovering just inches on top of his. (Y/n)'s face burnt bright red at the close proximity, stuttering apologises and other nonsense.

She immediately straightened herself and started scrambling about the room, picking up the clothes. Dazai chuckled as he watched her dash into the room like it's hell on earth.

— — — — —

"What the hell happened?" (Y/n) flushed as she banged her forehead on the wall and let it stay there. She could literally hear her own heart drumming loudly against her ribs, as if it would jump out any moment.

She slid down on the floor, mentally slapping herself for being so careless. Flopping herself onto her futon, she laid there, trying to cool her flaming cheeks. Her mind wandered back to the event that happened earlier, which only served to make her blush harder.

(What's this odd feeling?)
(My heart is pounding so quickly, it's scary.)

She was confused and anxious at the unknown feeling she was feeling that it made her stomach churn.

(Ugh. Dazai, you stupid jerk!)

Unbeknownst to her, the brunette was feeling just as equally confused as she was.

— — — — —

When she was conscious of her surroundings again, she realised she was no longer in her own body — rather, a younger version of it — and was wandering around the slums.

Her clothing didn't scream "normal", rather, it was the opposite. "Vagabond" or "street rat" would be a much better word to call it.

"Hey, little girl," A voice sounded from the shadows followed by a few snickers. "Watcha doing here?"

A younger (y/n) stopped in her tracks and turned to stare into the eyes of a gangster. He had tattooed arms, chain accessories, baton, knives, you named it. He was standing slightly in front of the group, which could only mean that he's the leader.

(Not good.)

She pressed her lip into a firm line as she stared unwaveringly at the leader. She took a step backwards; he took a forwards.

"Answer me!" The leader hollered at grabbed her collar. His expression was one of fury before turning into a nasty smirk. "What's wrong? Can't talk? I see, so you're a mute."

The leader shoved her against the wall behind her and swivelled around, "Beat her up. She's of no use for us."

A simple command and about dozen other gangsters had crowded around her. All of them possessed a smug, devilish grin.

"We haven't beaten up someone in a long time." Someone from the group spoke up.

"This is gonna be fun." Another added.

(No more, please.)

A sharp knife swung down on her smaller figure and soon, her vision was stained blood red.