Bandages and Salt (PJO X BSD AU)

Chapter twenty-four

Chuuya POV

I left mafia headquarters, arriving at the airport about an hour and a half before the flight was scheduled to take off, horror stories from other mafiosos ringing in my ears from missing the flight because they were caught in airport security and having to figure out how to get a new one without the boss finding out. When I made it to the gate indicated on my ticket, I saw a sight that I never thought I would see.

Dazai was standing alone in the airport with a bookbag of all things on his back, a blue one at that. I'd come to the airport early fully expecting to be waiting on the other teen to show until just before the flight was called for from final boarding. The bandaged teen was good at showing up exactly when needed for missions, but tended to avoid people as much as possible for as long as possible when he could, a fact that I was sorry to have to know.

On top of that, the teen was actually wearing his jacket the correct way, his bandaged arms going through the sleeves instead of letting them hang loose like he always does. It was such a strange sight that my eyes glazed over him when I was scanning the crowd the first time on the way to the terminal's gate.

Walking up close to the teen, I noticed the way that the other boy had his hands in his pockets, reminding me of the way that I used to keep mine. The taller teen had his back to me, watching the large screen on the wall, probably double checking that the terminal hadn't changed last minute since the flight was supposed to arrive any minute now.

The boy hummed lightly when I was right behind him, stepping up to my spot at the other teen's side. "I was wondering when you would get here," the teen started, tearing himself away from the board to look at me, "Chuuya."

My body shook subtly at the sight from the other boy, at the sound of the teen's voice. There was a deadness in the other boy's expression, one much more profound and pronounced than what usually reseted there most days. He looked like a living corpse.

Chuuya.

My own name stung in my ears as the other teen said it. It wasn't that Dazai hadn't said my name before, one of the first times that we spoke it was on our first mission together when Shirase was pointing a knife at the teen's throat, it was just that he'd never said it this way before. There was no scorn, anger, or playfulness in the other's tone, there wasn't anything at all.

"You knew that I was coming?" I asked, shifting the weight of the strap on my duffle bag.

I wasn't too surprised that he already knew, expected it even. Despite the way that the other teen tends to act, the boy had a real level of intelligence to him, one that I'm ashamed to admit that I can't measure up to. He had to be that smart to properly play his role in the mafia. Something like this would be child's play to the mafia boss's right hand.

"I figured that Boss would send someone to watch over me and make sure that I didn't get myself killed, or just off myself all together during my leave," the other teen explained.

The taller teen didn't even look at me as he spoke, opting to just watch the rest of the people walking around in a rush around us. They way that the other boy spoke just now, it wasn't his normal hopefulness or childishness that he used when talking about death. There was no longing in the other's tone, but a seriousness that made me wonder if it was a joke or not, if it ever was. In this moment, in the other's tone, the boy's death seemed as real of a thing as the bandages lining the younger teen's skin.

I stood there, wondering just what to say to this new version of the teen, how to speak to the boy that I didn't really seem to know. The last time that Dazai had spoken like this, I'd only been in the mafia a few days at the time, but I didn't really have to deal with him then, we'd just gotten drunk instead.