[Dazai Osamu x Reader]
The world knows you as a person with numerous masks and personalities all thanks to the immoral line of work you've decided to do... to survive.
Your survival doesn't only rely on money, it also relies on the fact that your t...
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The key to mental exhaustion has always been physical exhaustion.
That's what you thought as you grew breathless with every movement. Sweat trickling down to the valley of your breasts as your legs ached more and more.
Who would've thought that you'd be brave enough to do this again?
Yet here you are.
Running through the entire map of Yokohama with no specific destination in mind.
It wasn't exercising since you'd never do that outside of the privacy of your apartment. It was something like a coping mechanism, something that you've only done once... after the fire.
Other than that reason, staying in your apartment would be considered torturous waiting and what's worse is you didn't even know what you were waiting for.
Or at least that's what you've convinced yourself when, in fact, it was quite clear that Dazai was one of the things you waited for along with some peace of mind.
You couldn't tell the difference at this point as Dazai and peace had, peculiarly enough, become one and the same.
It's only been 3 days since you've last seen the bandaged man, heard him or even touched him. Dazai's become a safe haven before you could allow him to be and it might be for the fact that he's been there, both in the past and present.
As of late, everything has become complicated and you strongly wanted to a change.
You just needed a good slam to end this slump and, for the first time ever, the world was ready to comply by turning your fantasy into reality.
Just as you were taking a turn towards the center of the city to avoid the detested port, your body clashed into another.
Your legs were incapable of keeping you rooted on the spot due to your strenuous exercise, so you were in for another clash with the ground if it weren't for the stranger's heroic intervention. He was swift enough to save you from the unpleasant accident by wrapping his arm securely around your waist and bringing you to a tight embrace, filling your vision with ginger locks and grey eyes.
"Umm... Thanks?" you hesitated to initiate as you detached yourself from the stunned man. "Oh, and... Sorry."
The ginger cleared his throat and adjusted the black coat draped on his shoulders. "No worries..." after composing himself, his glanced back briefly at your face and took a speedy return back to scrutinise your features, "hey, have I seen you before?"
"That is extremely overused," you replied donning the jacket that was wrapped around your hips, suddenly conscious of the chills on your exposed skin. You looked at him with a judgmental eye only to realise that he, too, has a familiar face.
An irk mark pulsed on his heated face as he declined, "I wasn't flirting!"
Nakahara Chuuya.
A Port Mafia executive.
You've never personally met him before and you've only recently known of him.
Everything regarding the mafia's members and activities was saved in the laptop your adoptive teenager left for you. The one you never bothered to inspect until yesterday when reminiscing your mafia days was a strong urge.
'Perks of locking yourself up with toxic thoughts and emotions,' you thought.
Logically, it would've been your top priority to know all about the very organisation you're hiding from, but you never walked the streets of this city as yourself before and today of all days had to mark a first. The very day you seemed all too surrendered to the looming shadows of a surging depression that prevented you from taking a moment to think about the consequences of your actions.
The consequences played out without mercy to your emotional state or the weak attempt you made for any future plans.
At some point, you thought since all of your identities were out of commission, knowing about the mafia is the only way you could remain incognito from their prying eyes. Had it not been for the dusty laptop, you might've turned to previous clients who had any business with the Port Mafia. A dangerous feat, but you were willing to take some risks. Especially since you believed the next step in life is giving yourself options.
An option other than returning to the agency.
And before your debut as a responsible, independent adult in this cruel society, a chance for doom presented itself, instead.
Today, you find yourself under the mafia's spotlight.
"Sorry, short boy not my type," you spoke a grammatically flawed sentence and sighed, turning away from him.
Instinctually, you decided to act out one of your identities to distract the temperamental executive and save your own skin.
Haughty, naughty, flaunty Nono-chan.
The most despicable character to ever grace mankind. Mainly because Nono is incredibly and insufferably stupida and what makes her more detestable is her sexism allows for the degradation of the opposite gender. She worked like a charm with any intolerable or dangerous male species. In fact, she was born during a time where you were kidnapped.
Needless to say, the kidnappers were the one to scam and escape you.
As you were about to walk away like a supermodel from this train wreck, a hand grasped your arm as its owner growled, "OI! I'm not done with you."
You bit down on your lower lip as anxiety tried to shake your confidence in Nono-chan's abilities. Regardless, you tried your best to stay in character and spun around dramatically, "I tell police on you for... Ovulating copyright! So drop hand or big slap!"
"Ovulating? You mean violating?! And what? Copyright?" Nakahara replied retracting his hand the very instant 'ovulating' came out of your lips.
"Yeah...? That what I say...?" you looked at the ginger like he was the dumbest creature on the planet, as he did you.
"... Nevermind, you can't possibly be that person," the executive exhaled in irritation, making the wise decision of not interacting any further with a maniac.
Your eyes wandered off over the executive's shoulder only to spot a mafioso walking in your direction. Not wanting to take any more risks, you decided to end the conversation before in more suspicions arise, "that right. I'm big boss here."
After receiving another questionable look from Nakahara, you walked away for some distance and when the sound of their hushed conversation rose a tad in volume, your leisurely walk took on some speed.
"WHAT?!"
You started jogging.
"OI!"
You started printing and immediately dived into the shadows of an alley—the very shadows that held the presence of a far more dangerous character: Akutagawa Ryunosuke.
