the beauty of water | o. dazai ✔

chapter nineteen.

Trigger Warning: A lot of torture references mentioned in the beginning. Proceed with caution.

(Y/n) attempted to open her eyes, but it was hard when they were swollen and bloody—the possibility of her face being broken a large one. Her wrists were raw and red, the skin torn and rubbed away as she had been thrashing around in a pair of handcuffs. Her ankles were aching, having been kicked time and time again and bashed against the chair she was stuck in.

It would've been an understatement to say that everything hurt.

But rather than giving up and just letting herself die at the hands of Fujinuma, a dirty, cheating detective, something within her kept her alive and allowed her to continue to fight to live. While her body was getting beaten time and time again, a faceless entity kept whispering throughout her thoughts to just keep going, to hang onto that small light that would keep her away from the darkness of death.

It was hard to say how much time had passed. It could've been hours, days, weeks. It didn't matter anymore. It was just a time for (Y/n) to be kicked, punched, and stabbed over and over again without any of the beatings being let up.

I don't care how much my body hurts anymore. Or how much I want water or just a little bit of rest, she thought as she tried to stay conscious from her many beatings. As long as those men were left out of this...

The choice was very clear.

(Y/n) held up her hands, putting her head down as she remained in her seated position. She yelled at him, "Leave them alone! I'll go with you."

Fujinuma turned back to her, smirking as he muttered, "Good girl."

He pointed the gun at her, walking to her as he pulled out his pair of handcuffs. While he was distracted with them, she pointed her hand towards the water. She opened her mouth to summon Ryuji and activate her ability—only to get clocked in the back of the head with the butt of the pistol.

"You're pretty noble to give up your freedom and come with me for a couple guys you didn't even know existed before this whole ordeal," Fujinuma told her with a chuckle, a chuckle that disgusted her every second of her endless torture. "I don't get that. Why give yourself up for nothing? I mean, all you've gotten is a beating."

(Y/n) spit up a bit of blood, coughing a bit as she managed to wheeze out, "Because that's what a good detective does. They solve the case and protect those who are innocent, and those men were innocent."

"I suppose you're correct." Fujinuma picked up a metal baseball bat covered in dents and slightly stained with blood—not all of the blood being (Y/n)'s. "But that doesn't mean that you're not innocent yourself. Do you remember what happened that night? That night one year ago when we went onto that undercover case?"

"How could I forget?" (Y/n) coughed, her throat and mouth bone dry. "I was there."

"Yeah, those two men came in and made you deactivate that irritating ability of yours," Fujinuma grumbled as he rolled the bat between his hands, feeling the cool metal against his palms. "Then you got whisked away while I had to call for help to clean up this mess."

(Y/n) let her head hand, the back of her head pounding from all the beatings. "So that's how you managed to avoid jail and keep your job..."

"But since I was so injured," he continued, propping her chin up with the end of the bat and forcing her to look at him, "I couldn't continue being a detective, so I was assigned to various jobs. Now here we are, the supervisor of the bomb squad while you're a successful detective with an agency known for their ability users."