My Godsend (Chuuya Nakahara x Reader)

I didn't own a pillow, much less a futon mattress.

This morning was to begin at lunchtime. It should have been so. He was supposed to Wake up at 2 PM, have Breakfast (if you can call it Breakfast), contact the boss and get a new night mission. This was his usual routine, to which he was already so accustomed.

However, another rumble broke into the ears of the sleeping mobster.

Reluctantly, the boy opened his eyes, still not fully understanding what had happened. Awareness of this came very slowly. The first thing he saw was an unfamiliar room in which he had never thought to sleep. Then he turned his attention to the blanket that he had spread out to make it comfortable to spend a night there. After that, his brain began to remember the previous night with difficulty.

«Mission... Slaver... Chest... OH, SHIT!»

Then the boy jumped up from what looked like a bed, but his head swam with sudden movements and he fell back helplessly with a slight cry of 'Ouch'. In the doorway immediately appeared his new roommate, who a few seconds later was standing over the guy, holding out a pale bony hand. Rubbing his bruised hip, he looked up at the girl.

'Don't stand over me like that. It's annoying that I look weak when you do such a thing,' He snapped at her.

(Y/N) immediately withdrew her hand and straightened up.

'What was that noise?'

'The clock started ringing and I didn't know what to do with it, so I threw it on the floor and it broke,' She reported.

'Ugh, nice. This ringing thing got what it deserved.'

He let out a sigh of relief and slumped back into his semblance of a bed.

'You can get some more sleep. At least that's what I'm going to do now,' Chuuya turned away from the person still standing over him.

'Don't want.'

'Then think of something to do. Just try not to make any noise and not break anything else,' The boy muttered, closing his eyes and gradually going to sleepy Kingdom.

But no such luck.

'Chuuya-kun, (Y/N)-chan, good morning my dears!' A pleased, mocking voice came from the first floor. Then they heard the sound of footsteps on the stairs.

«This misfortune only was wanting. I know I am born to experience them all.»

'Get out before I smear your body so that only bandages will remain in memory of your former existence.'

'How was last night? I was very worried, my dear girl. I even wanted to call my boss to take you away from him,' Dazai chuckled with a note of irony in his voice, completely ignoring the owner of the house. He reached out to her shaggy hair and carefully separated one strand, then began playfully winding it around his finger. 'That stale piece of shit didn't even bother to brush your hair before you went to bed! I would never let that happen to your beautiful curls!' He purred the last words softly, right over her ear.

'Hey, what did you just say?!' Nakahara got up from the floor with a homicidal expression on his face. 'How did you even get in here, you fuckin' burglar?!'

'I'm afraid there will be worse people coming to you for such a treasure than I am. Especially if you never learn to close the front door,' The free hand that had been behind him all along was now visible and a small bunch of keys hung from his finger.

«Shit. Did I just forget to close the house yesterday?»

'Ne, (Y/N)-chan, we have a lot of work to do today. First, we need to make you a delightful fairy. Second... OH, MY!' His admiring gaze turned to her bandaged arms and legs. 'You're just like me now! How great! Passers - by on the streets will think that we made an attempt to commit suicide together, isn't that beautiful?'

The girl's eyebrows lifted slightly in surprise.

'Sick pervert, get off her,' Chuuya ordered in an irritated but subdued tone.

'Come on, honey, I'll fix you up.'

He put his arm around her waist and led her out of the room. Nakahara was about to object again, but then decided to take a moment to relax while his two headaches went about their business.

«In the end, it was Dazai who made me change my mind. I don't think I need to worry about these two right now.»

Meanwhile, in the bedroom, Osamu sat the girl on the bed and began to scour all the cabinets and drawers in search of a comb. When he finally found what he was looking for, he carefully sat down next to her on the edge of the bed and began to gently comb small strands of hair. Matted, but incredibly soft, they were not so hard to brush. With a vague smile, he held a lock of hair in one hand and ran a comb through it with the other.

'Previously, this was always done by the Master.' She uttered suddenly.

His hand with the comb paused for a few seconds in the air.

'Do you wanna try it, (Y/N)-chan?' Osamu asked softly.

Without a word, she took the comb he held out to her, gathered all the hair on one side, and began to brush it slowly and carefully. The guy was not so much watching this process as watching her. There was something amazing about this girl. Her face and body seemed so childish, though there were places where it was obvious that she was not a child. The comb looked impossibly large against her small fingers and clipped nails. Her large glass eyes with long lashes did not express anything at all and still it seemed that there was something deep and mysterious in them. Her plump bitten lips clenched every time an unpleasant tangle came in the way of the comb. All these little details made her special. And it was so mesmerizing that Dazai was ready to paint her portrait right here in some Renaissance style.

'Listen to me, (Y/N),' He began. 'Recently, I have often thought about the meaning of my life. I have two friends who are sure exactly what they want and what they are going to achieve. I envy them sometimes because I don't feel that way myself. Human life is so complicated and incomprehensible that sometimes I just don't want to go on living. But I live. And yet, what if one day I'm gone? Not in the sense that I will die, although I do not deny that this is possible. In the meaning that I will just disappear. Somewhere in the city bustle, I will blend with countless gloomy passers-by, maybe even forget about my everyday life as a part of the Port Mafia. And what then?'

There was a frightening, deep, inexplicable longing in his eyes. While talking to her, he was simultaneously talking to an invisible audience full of falsely sympathetic faces where he is the only actor on stage, sitting under the sign "Prop". And yet (Y/N) was his most loyal listener. She looked into his eyes, as if trying to burn holes in them, to see what was hidden behind that look of loneliness.

'Ne, (Y/N)-chan, if this happens, can you take care that Chuuya can never forget the feelings with which he dared to take over as boss once in the past? In time, you will understand what those feelings were.' He closed his eyes and leaned back against the bed. 'I can't even describe how much I hate him, but I still respect some of his principles. If only because he agreed to keep you here. This is the side of his that fights for justice, and in my memory I remember only one of its losses, and that was due to inexperience. So please become his faithful shadow that will protect him. And maybe one day he will become a boss that change the Port Mafia forever.'

'Yes. I will.'