※𝐃𝐞𝐛𝐚𝐭𝐚𝐛𝐥𝐞 𝐒𝐨𝐜𝐢𝐞𝐭𝐲 𝐀𝐔 (𝐀𝐭𝐬𝐮𝐬𝐡𝐢 𝐱 𝐀𝐤𝐮𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐚𝐰𝐚)※

Chapter 7

It was natural for Atsushi to always find a way to blame himself for things, even if he'd done nothing wrong. Like, as a kid in the orphanage he'd always think it was his fault if there wasn't enough food to go around, even after giving up his portion. If he was roughly bumped into on the street, he'd always apologize because he blamed himself for taking up so much room. It was an endless cycle, a cycle that even Dazai hadn't managed to break yet. In all honesty, he'd accepted that the habit of self-blame would probably follow him his whole life. Yet, in all his years of condemnation, he'd never quite felt this bad about something.

But if there was one trait that was on par with Atsushi's self-depreciation, it was his surprising tenacity. If he thought he'd done wrong, he'd apologize. No matter what it took. Which is why he was currently raking through Dazai's laptop for a certain someone's contact information.

He locked himself in their shared bathroom and opened the skype app with shaky fingers, and after a couple of deep breaths he worked up the courage to call.

For a couple of minutes it was just Atsushi, the sound of a dripping tap and the monotone ringing of the call echoing off the bathroom tiles; he was nervous, but not as nervous as he'd normally be in a situation as daring as this. He wasn't quite sure if he should thank someone else or blame himself for that change; but he was trying his best to welcome it, to accept it as part of his personality. Like, when you unlock a new game character, he'd just unlocked a new level to himself. He needed to work on it to make it better, so he understood it more, and then eventually it'd be like. Well, like it was always there.

When the call connected Atsushi stretched tall, sitting like he had a higher level of confidence than the amount he truly had.

"It's about time you called me back you—Oh—" The ginger's eyes were wide in surprise, lips pressed in a thin like as the cogs in his head turned, "Atsushi? Whats—"

"Can you give me Akutagawa's number?" He blurted out eagerly, worried that Chuuya would hang up at any given moment.

"Huh?" He shook his head softly, long hair flying about his face obscuring his field of view "Look dude—"

"Please Chuuya, I need to talk to him" Atsushi was sat, lurched forward on the closed toilet seat so clearly begging the man on the other end of the call, but Chuuya didn't seem to understand what was happening. Or if he did, he wanted nothing to do with it and Atsushi wasn't going to settle for that.

"Wait a second—"

"Please!"

"Give it a rest for a—"

"Please Chuuya!"

"Ok!" Chuuya sighed dramatically, palms digging into the sockets of his eyes, "I'll give you his number if you shut up for one second." It was then that Chuuya's timid dementor became alarmingly plain. He didn't have a smirk on his face, his eyes weren't glimmering with mischief either. His skin looked dull, and his hair that was typically immaculate looked knotted and unkempt. Atsushi stared at him through the camera lens, both curious and cautious of the unusually lax dementor, well unusual by Chuuya's standards "I—" the ginger started, "Hows Dazai?"

It was Atsushi's turn to flaunt wide eyes now, "Uh—hes...fine."

There was an uncomfortable silence as Chuuya shuffled on his bed, the camera going dark for a second before his fiery locks came back into view, "Can you—Jesus, I fucking hate this. But can you tell him I'm sorry." He paused, face burning redder by the second as he was overcome with embarrassment that was teetering on being endearing, "I just—I got too—"

"No Chuuya." Atsushi's voice hit calm and low. He was putting his foot down on this, "If you want to apologize to him, then make the effort to apologize to him, not me." Chuuya gulped harshly, before a tiny hint of amusement crept back onto his face, "Number, now."