Ambivalent • DazaixReaderxChūya

11. Late Night Thoughts

Am I really drunk or is Dazai a really bad driver?

You had agreed to letting Dazai take care of you for the night, but the details were a bit fuzzy in your memory. You remember being walked to a car by Dazai, but with the time it took him to start it you weren't certain it was his.

After some driving that made you more nauseous than the alcohol, you were now being helped out of the car, the floor spinning causing you poor balance. Dazai held you the whole time, up until he unlocked the door into his loft, letting you walk in yourself with your hand on the wall for support.

"[f/n]...how long were you drinking for before I got there? You either had way too much or your tolerance is as bad as someone I used to know..." Dazai asks you, taking off his trench coat and placing it on a coat hanger he had to the side.

"I don't remember" you admit, looking around his home. It was relatively empty, his kitchen looking like it was never touched and his furniture in incredibly good shape.

"Are you sure you live here?" You ask, blushing when all you hear is Dazai's laugh as a response, like he thought your question was silly.

You were about to protest, but the same nauseating twist in your stomach you had felt in the car came over you and you put your hand to mouth in panic. Seeing this, Dazai calmly directs you to the bathroom, and you rush to the toilet and double over to throw up, yelling at Dazai to turn away and to close the door, embarrassed at your sickly state.

A few minutes later, you clean yourself up before opening the door again, seeing Dazai leaning against the wall waiting for you to come out.

"Feeling better?" He asks softly, offering out his hand to you as help.

"No" you say with a pained look on your face, pushing his hand away as your grip the doorframe, most of the positive liquor effects fading and leaving you with the more unpleasant consequences.

Your head was spinning with what you had been trying to forget ever since you were attacked the first night. You killed a person, and dealt with it by saying they deserved it, you were brought to the detective agency and got out of control out of fear for the vulnerability Dazai made you feel, only to be captured by the mafia and forced to stay there. By staying there, you had been hurt many times over and over and no longer felt remorse for needing to hurt other people to keep what you called strength. Like Dazai had said when he first met you, you were lost. You didn't know who you were anymore.

You wanted to stand by yourself, conquer everything without help, but you wanted someone to love you for you and not for what you can do. You didn't want anyone to take advantage of you ever again. You didn't want to be just another gifted soldier. You wanted to find a reason why you were given the gift to cause so much suffering. With the Port Mafia, although it was a forced arrangement and you no longer had a choice, it felt good to delve into the darkness for all of what you wanted. The only thing was, that you didn't believe anyone could love you the deeper you went.

Not counting Dazai, since you still couldn't tell his intentions exactly, the only person that had seemed to show any interest in understanding you had been Chūya...who you pushed away more than anyone else.

"I've killed 4 people, and I will kill more. It gives me a momentary release. I think I can find more through the Mafia. Right? I can, and I will." You talk to yourself, trying to keep at bay a wave of despair and darkness.

Dazai hears the pain in your voice, the new moonlight shining on his face in a melancholic manner as his brown eyes glitter with regret.

A few tears escape you, and you turn to wipe them away, not wanting to breakdown in front of Dazai.