To my dear Chuuya...

CHAPTER 18

Shirase paced around in his room, pulling his hair with a distressed look on his face. They got Yuan. That bastard, that goddamned monster, he managed to make Yuan get taken away. The girl came by Shirase's room frantic with worry, covered in blood and crying, telling him what Dazai did. He helped her hide, but the police found her shortly after. Now he was all alone, his heart beating with anxiety. Anxiety, because he knew he wouldn't escape those two's wrath.

Just as he was thinking about that, the door to his room slowly opened with an eerie creak and, from the darkness two shadows emerged, the moonlight coming from behind them in sharp blueish rays, making the two boys look like they had the power of the moon on their side, making them look all the more terrifying.

Dazai slowly entered the white haired boy's room, Chuuya following closely behind with both of his hands in his pockets, a calm expression on both of their faces. Shirase stumbled away from them, hitting the desk with his lower back. His gaze shifted between the two of them, stopping on Dazai. "Y-You monster! Did you come to kill me too?" Shirase asked, a deranged laugh escaping from his lips as he accepted his death, no longer caring about anything.

Dazai didn't even flinch at his words, maintaining his emotionless face, his icy eyes never leaving Shirase's. Then, a wicked smirk appeared on his face, shaking Shirase so deeply that he had to keep his knees from buckling under him. "Chuuya, have your fun," the bandaged boy said, casually walking up to the bed and sitting down, patiently looking at the redhead.

The white haired boy shifted his gaze from the boy sitting on his bed to the one he pretended to be friends with just a few days ago. He was instantly met by a gloved fist, the punch being so powerful it made his head fly back, blood beginning to drip from the corner of his mouth. Before he could even process what happened, the same hand that punched him roughly grabbed him by the side of his head, smashing it against the desk. A loud ringing ran through Shirase's head as he blacked out for a second the moment his head made contact with the hard surface. He quickly regained his conscience, feeling blood dripping from his left temple.

Chuuya grabbed him by the collar, punching him again and again, only stopping when the boy seemed like he was about to pass out. Then, the redhead roughly threw him from one side of the room to the other, Shirase hitting the wall next to the door with a loud bang before falling to the floor, gasping for air.

Chuuya slowly approached him, Dazai closely watching him. The bandaged boy's eyes were shining with a wicked admiration at the sight in front of him. Chuuya looked like an angry predator ready to completely destroy its prey and Dazai could feel his heart beginning to beat faster and faster. When they first met, this exact same boy kicked him and didn't seem to be bothered by his threats. That's when Dazai first became interested in him, realizing that there might be a monster hiding inside him as well. Then, Dazai felt hope for the first time. Hope that someone who might understand him might actually exist.

"This is what lying bastards like you deserve," Chuuya said, his voice coated with anger.

He picked up Shirase by his hair, making him stand up again and punching him in the abdomen, the boy gasping for air as more blood began dripping from his mouth. He kept on punching him again and again, Shirase barely moving anymore, his face a bloody mess, but the redhead didn't seem to plan on stopping anytime soon.

"Chuuya," Dazai gently said, getting up from the bed.

Chuuya suddenly stopped punching the boy, as if taken out of a trance. He slowly looked at Dazai, who was now standing by the door. "You'll kill him if you keep going," he smiled. "Let's go. Our job here is done," he continued, opening the door and waiting for his roommate.

The redhead got up, not sparing Shirase another glance as he followed Dazai out into the hallway and back to their room. When they were coming to Shirase's room earlier, Chuuya asked Dazai if they were going to kill the boy, but he only smiled and told him that they needn't do that. Yuan was the "brain" of their team, so since they got rid of her, they didn't have a reason to worry about Shirase. He was useless on his own.

Now, Chuuya's knuckles were bloody and they hurt, but the boy felt better than he had felt in years. However, he couldn't help but notice Dazai's gloomy expression, his silence telling Chuuya that there was definitely something wrong.

"Are you alright?" he asked as they reached their room.

Dazai seemed startled by the question, probably not expecting Chuuya to notice that something was bothering him. He gave the redhead an unconvincing smile, his eyes seeming alarmingly void. "I'm just a little tired. Sorry to ask you this, but could you please give me a few minutes alone? I just need to sort through my thoughts, and it's easier for me to do that when I'm alone," he said.

Chuuya stared at him with concern filled eyes, but he didn't want to bother Dazai, especially after he had helped him so much, so he tried his best to give him a smile. "Alright. I'll stay in the library for a while," the redhead said, turning around and walking to the library, Dazai entering their room and softly closing the door.

When he entered the dimly lit library, surprisingly Oda was still there.

"You're alone?" Oda asked Chuuya as he closed the door behind him, barely stopping a coughing fit.

"Dazai said he felt a little tired and that he wanted to be alone," the boy responded, watching Oda's expression change into a worried one.

"Go check on him," the man suddenly told Chuuya but, after he saw the confused expression on the boy's face, he added, "He gets into these... moods sometimes. I tried to help him before, but he never let me get close enough to him. But you... Please just go make sure he's ok," the man explained.

Chuuya did not waste another second, leaving Oda -who started coughing again- and he bolted out the door, running towards their room, feeling his heart in his throat as anxiety filled every fibre of his being.

To be continued...

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