Graveyard • Dazai x Reader

11. The Snake and the Charmer

After Chuuya left, you sat in the infirmary alone without a word for a little while longer, your eyes fixed on the door in a haze after the interaction that wounded you in ways that felt to run deeper than the wound Akutagawa gave you. You want to will Chuuya to come back, to get another chance at that conversation, to not get so angry — except that's all you can feel.

Anger like a burning wildfire seems to run through your veins, making your skin burn hot and your temper to stay teetering on the edge of explosion. There's a part of you that's defeated, given in to Dazai's wishes and listens to him and only him, and that part of you is a void that swallows everything else whole. The other part of you is like the sun, blazing against the void and waiting to explode under the pressure of the dark. The other part of you needs more than being told to stop talking and listen. It needs to watch the world bleed fury the way your heart does.

Why?

Your head hurts in this back and forth torment between being docile and obedient, staying safe and being loyal, versus violent and vindictive, letting death chase you with every offence.

You want to make it stop.

Only Dazai understands—

"They should have kept you locked up, let you dig your own grave."

"I'm honestly surprised they have you running free, [f/n], after everything you'd done."

"...He is gone. He left you. You were worth nothing to him."

"...I had no choice but to leave you behind."

— Doesn't he?

You feel sick. If Dazai understood, why did Akutagawa's words ring true? Why could you put his supposedly deceitful insults and hear Dazai? You ran from the doctor because she didn't understand. You pushed Chuuya away because he isn't Dazai, the one who was supposed to be your peace.

Now you feel your insides twist and turn as both halves of your soul fight for control, just as they did on the harbour, your muscles tensing up as your whole body goes into fight or flight, feeling incredibly unstable and in turn, vulnerable. You become aware of your newly bleeding shoulder and a survival-instinct-panic sets in, eyes frantically looking for extra bandages in the infirmary and in a split second deciding you needed to leave, because Chuuya had said he'd send Akutagawa to you and you weren't ready for that yet. You felt weak, and the last thing you'd want to look in front of the mafia dog, is weak.

The feeling you'd had earlier of wanting to see him feels naive now.

Catching a glimpse of clean bandages, you hurriedly take them with you, not caring for the silver medical tools that clatter to the ground as you push them away. Pushing all else in your way as well, you take in a painful deep breath as you reach for the door, flinching at the forced movement of your stiff body. You feel your hands shaking as your mind spins with your next steps.

Clarity.

Then opening the door to the infirmary with your free hand, you exit into the halls of the mafia headquarters, placing the free hand against your wound as you let go of the door and start running, tracing the winding walls down to your room.

When you get to the room and open the door to enter, turning on the little lamp lights after closing the door behind you, for a moment you feel your heart drop as the dim lights cast shadows across your walls in a way that accentuates shadows of old writing. For a few seconds, you're back to the days before Kouyou had erased that pain for you, had watched you cry and shut down at the thought of remembering yet another kill, whether it had been an innocent or the guiltiest of criminals worse than any mafia scum. But then you blink, and the memories of those days are gone and you're back in the centre of an empty room without heart. You now carried your guilt in your conscience, a prison in itself.