Nostalgia | Dazai Osamu

15 | Help

Half an hour later, my trembling hands had reached the handle of the Agency door.

The Agency was closer to time than the Port Mafia and I couldn't walk much longer. My legs were burning from sprinting across the city's meandering streets, my throat burning metallic, and chest fluctuating. Ever since I left the docks, my gift had been unstable. Shadows have been following me, street lamps brightening and bulbs bursting. Energy was gathering inside of me, then releasing at an increasingly fast pace. White light sparked from my hand again and again... I needed Dazai to control it. I didn't need Mori like Higuchi had said.

It drained me, then over come me. How I made it this far was a mystery, and how no one spotted the curious illusions must have been pure luck.

The Agency was the first place I imagined Dazai to be. It was dangerous, yes, and I could be in grave trouble for it, however, my house couldn't provide the help I needed. The Mafia wouldn't know what to do or knocking me out would be their best guess. This is why the Agency was the best place.

"Let me in!" I called, banging on the front door which rattled. I sucked in another load of air, then exhaled harshly. I was stuck on repeat. I physically couldn't stop my heavy breathing.
My knees buckled, and hit the concrete, my fist still banging.
"Please!" I called again.

I was worried no one was here. I was almost petrified, until I heard the sound of quick, heavy footsteps.

The door flung open, and with it when the rest of my body, collapsing into the doorway. My eyes landed on an unfamiliar pair of shoes, those that were brown, polished and fancy. Definitely a male.

"What the-" the man spat in disgust.
"P-Please... g-get." I stuttered out between breaths. I couldn't finish my sentence, my breathing was too erratic, my head now spinning. I tried to haul my limp body onto all fours, however by muscles were unable to be so strong.
"A Mafia member at our door? Tch. Think again."

A sharp pain tugged at the back of my head immediately, and I was raised onto my feet again. I yelled at the pain in my head, begging the man to let me go. I should have known better.

Of course they wouldn't let me in.

He disapproved who ever he was and decided to take me by the neck. By now, if I had the energy and the stability of my gift, this man would have been dead on the floor in under a minuet. I was being played around like a toy, a puppet, a child, with a tightening, suffocating large grip around my fragile throat.

I started to choke.

"Oh...It's you."

My eyes just focused on two pairs of blue ones, his ponytail long and blond, his eyes furrowed at an furious angle, lips starling. I knew him- was he Dazai's new partner.

I begged for him to stop, my hands desperately prying them apart. My nails dug into his flash like tiny knife, yet I saw him refrain himself greatly in releasing me.

"If you think you can walk though our doors again or even try to, I'll have you killed. Leave." He said, and with great force I was thrown into the streets.

"Wait! N-No, I need to speak...To your p-president," I stutterd out in between chokes, "I- I need, D-Dazai."

"Dazai doesn't want to see you." He spat.

For some reason, what he said there hurt the most. He threw me out with great force, and my head slammed on the concrete. The last thing I heard was the loud bang from the door closing.

-

Dazai's P.O.V

I typed slowly since I wasn't in the mood for paper work. Emailing was my least favourite thing to do whilst working, even if was just a simple one.  I had only a few to do, yet it felt like hundreds of emails were waiting to be replied. My eyes had caught sign of a harrowing pile of paperwork which was left for me from the President. I decided to briefly go through it and ditch the emails, since anything is better than that right now.