Bonus 3 - Grudge; Part 6

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The day was a blurry for him. Blurry with ugliness, despair, silly hopefulness; sharp at the edges, twisted in the middle. Haze cleared and yet memories were scattered. For two days he collected them until he formed the whole picture, his brain working and remembering even more, even more excruciating details, more vividly than he thought was possible.

And when each came to its place, he collapsed on his knees in the dark of his room.

.

.

.


To what extent grief can go? Can it swallow a heart, make it want to break, and at the same time make it stone-hard, cold and passive?

Chuuya was sure it could. On one step from those doors, he knew it could.

Two men, per usual, guarded the doors. Rise and fall of their chests masked by blackness of their suits, one would believe they were not more nor less akin to those watchdogs carved in stone.

Nothing was said. Even if those nameless men had their concerns and expectations, they didn't let it show. Chuuya could laugh at himself, how pathetic he had become. Searching solace when distressed, amongst loyal guards of the Boss' office.

Swallowing a deep breath, steeled for whatever may come at him, he pushed the doors. Silence creeped up his spine in a form of deeply buried fear, distracting him only for a moment before his eyes set on Dazai patiently waiting on his seat.

No smile adorned his face, no glint in the eyes. Dull were they, so dull, Chuuya almost felt remorse.

Almost.

"Please close the door," he said grimly.

And Chuuya did. Harsher than intended. Dazai chuckled, a hint of a dishonest smile dancing on his lips.

"Angry?" he tasted the water, observing Chuuya's tightened jaw.

When Chuuya said nothing, he proped a palm under his chin, eyes fixated on the only person beside him in that room.

"Come now, Chuuya. We have to be honest to each other," Dazai pointed out, adding a deliberate emphasis on the word 'honest'.

Snorting, Chuuya allowed a threatening, strained grin to pull his mouth. "'Honest'...? You want to be honest? Now, after everything? Who do you think you are?!"

Ah, there we go, Dazai though, forcing a chuckle against a lump in his throat.

"Mad that I punished Atsushi?" Dazai poked. "Mad that I haven't been a little gloomy child for two years already? Missing me from that time that much?"

A jerk in Chuuya's guts made him inhale sharply. Fingers trembling, he balled his fists. Glare of his could have killed if not for the tremor of his brows.

How could he? How could this abomination in front of him speak like this?

His thoughts bitter, he suddenly grew aghast.

What was he thinking? Did he really call Dazai an abomination? Even in his mind? How... when did those dark and twisted notions plague his mind? When did the need to speak such hard words occur?

Was it ire, simmering for a long time and now finally overwhelming, pushing all his negative and forced-back thoughts on the surface of his consciousness? Was he finally snapping? Finally giving in the storm whirling inside of him?

If so, then let it all out. Let it all leash, destroy, snap and burn. Let it all reverberate and boom, let it be known what he had kept hidden to not hurt others. To not hurt Dazai, whom he held so dear even so.

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