The Mafioso's Runaway//Dazai X Reader

{FE} 16. A Letter

(TW//MENTIONS OF ABUSE)

~~

It was a year after (Y/N)'s recruitment under her father's syndicate. She was free to roam about whenever she's wanted to, just as long as she complied with the assignments she was given. Training with Ryou had started to come to a halt, yet it hadn't stopped his random visits to bother her at her dorm.

She always went to a certain cafe, since her first assassination. She wasn't upset, or angry, and if anything, she didn't feel a single thing. She'd always went to that cafe in a spot that was placed in the corner next to a window. At that spot, she always wrote things down on a couple sheets of paper.

Those sheets of paper that laid gently on the counter... it was a letter. It was a letter to someone who wasn't necessarily dear to hear. Oh, not at all. It was to someone who was around (Y/N) her whole life. Although they'd never offered themselves, they were still there. The closest to a person who stayed with her.

Her mother.

Maybe she'd come back to Yokohama to deliver the letter to her grave, yet she stayed. It was almost as if she was stuck in a cage with no desire to get out. She wanted to leave Yokohama, yet she needed someone else to tell her that.

Her hands traveled the paper after taking a sip of the piping hot coffee next to it. The pen fell out of her hand, catching her attention. With a swift movement, she caught the pen and placed it back in her hands. That is... until her own (E/C) eyes moved to her hands. They were covered in bandages all the way from her forearm to her palm.

Opening and closing her hand, a wave of memories came fluttering in.

--

(Y/N) (L/N), 12...

At this point in time, (Y/N) couldn't play this off as being clumsy at home. The bandages on her arms and legs started to catch the attention of the teachers around her. During recess, she even heard them talking about contacting a parent.

So what did she do?

She started to stumble and fall. Being clumsy in front of everyone else made it seem like the bandages all over her were because of that clumsiness. At any moment, she'd caused herself more pain. Scraping her knee on the pavement, bumping into others, tripping on cracks...

Anything that would make it seem like she was some clumsy oaf. New bandages? No problem. The kids would only laugh and say," Oh, (Y/N)! You're so clumsy! What're we gonna do with you?" They always laughed, even the teacher chuckled a little.

The little cherry on top was a big ol' smile. She was an actress, entertaining the kids around her  by falling on her face. The more that she'd started to bandage herself, she felt like a mummy. Not only did the old scars bleed further from her mother, but she'd had to sacrifice herself to make people think she was just a clumsy child.

Nothing new... right? They always laughed, but not with her, at her.

--

(Y/N)'s thoughts were interrupted by a chair being pulled to her table. A figure sat down in front of her, making her (E/C) eyes meet with purple ones. The man wore a white dress shirt with black slacks, a cloak with a fluffy border and a white ushanka. She didn't speak, and instead observed his features.

" Evening, Japanese Cat," the man said, his forearms leaning on the counter. " Evening, sir," she said with a confused look on her face. She forced her back into the back of the chair. " You know who I am?," she asked, curious as to who this man was, yet she couldn't put her finger on it.