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Thunder rumbled in the sky, the occasional lighting bolt lighting up the sky of gray clouds. It was merely 10:30 pm and it looked as if it was midnight.
Laid in a container near a container yard was none other than Osamu Dazai. It was cold inside the metal container, the metal amplifying the chill from outside.
Dazai, who ran cold most days, was lying on his bare mattress shivering with his expression blank and bandages scattered across the floor. New cuts littering his arms, that he didn't have the strength to put bandages on or wash them.
His dull eyes looked black rather than their usual brown that sparkled with mischief and amusement. One could almost describe him as a corpse if they saw his current state, if anything right now, the brunet would prefer that to be the case.
He was going through one of his spiral episodes and it was a particularly bad one today. He'd been feeling the itch all day, but then when he finally got to his mistake of a home all control snapped.
His brain was barely processing anything, his arms felt numb and all he had the energy to do was stare at the wall. His whole body felt like it was numb and paralyzed with how little he had moved for the last 2 hours.
Even the thunderstorm happening outside didn't bother him, he had blocked out most of his surroundings about an hour or so ago anyway.
There was blood all over his shirt and arms, you could hardly tell where the blood was coming from, Dazai wasn't even aware of how he looked because he didn't even have the energy to move his head to look. It would honestly be better if he just died of blood loss so that he didn't have to face the wrath of both Chuuya finding him, and then his redheaded dog bringing him to Mori in a panic of trying to keep him alive.
That might just kill him, because every time he sees Chuuya worry for him he thinks another part of him dies on the inside. One thing about him is that he hates pity.
Although he is only 17, he has been through shit. Everyone has, even Chuuya himself. So he doesn't know why the ginger keeps wasting his perfectly human self on worrying about him. Dazai isn't human. That much has been clear to himself for years.
Yet, when he feels a tear slip down his cheek when he finally starts to lose consciousness he doesn't feel like he's human. Because he gave all of his humanity to Chuuya so that he could feel human in his darkest moments.
When Dazai woke up again, to his surprise he wasn't in hell. Instead, he was lying on a much more comfortable bed than his. When he opened his eyes, both were uncovered. As his vision adjusted to the dimly lit room he saw just who he hoped not to see.
Sat in the corner of the room with his eyes closed, was Chuuya. He was wearing a gray sweatshirt and black biker shorts. Arms crossed over his chest, and face relaxed despite his tensed shoulders.
The next thing that Dazai noticed was that his arms were tingly and wrapped up in the comfortable plushy thick bandages that Chuuya buys. He didn't bring him to Mori, that surprised even him.
When Dazai refocused his gaze on Chuuya, the redhead was sat up staring at him. Seemingly relieved but it was masked behind a barrier.
“You're awake.” He stated as if it wasn’t obvious enough, the brunet was awake and alive. That's more than Dazai expected from the redhead.
“I am, and you found me.” Dazai stated, a Melo tone. He didn't dislike the atmosphere, or maybe it's because it's not a freezing cold shipping container in the middle of nowhere. Instead, it was a dim room with a warm comfy bed and his favorite partner by his side.
“So, do you want to tell me why I found you unconscious on your mattress covered in your own blood and cuts on your arms? Be honest with me Osamu. I want the truth.”
Chuuya's brows were furrowed, and his lips pressed into a thin line. Worry was clear in his azure eyes, showing that he wasn't messing around even as he came and sat at the foot of the bed. Placing a hand on the covers where the man's feet were underneath rubbing softly.
“...” Dazai didn't know how to respond to that, everything in the ginger's expression made his eyes burn in the corners. He hated the feeling so much.
There was recognition in the redhead's eyes as he got up slowly, letting Dazai have time to react as he wrapped his arms around his shoulders. He didn't expect the brunet to sniffle, nor did he expect the hitch of his breath.
Chuuya pulled away a bit, thinking that maybe Dazai didn't like the physical touch, but when he felt the weak grip trying to tug him back and hearing the silent held back sobs, he knew that it was just a brief surprise.
“You're okay.” The redhead muttered, pulling the brunet up a bit to be on his knees now. Gently letting a hand rub his back as he whispered sweet nothings into his ear.
He hoped this would be the first, and last time that he'd find Dazai like that. Because he swears he stopped breathing for minutes until he stitched up the brunet's arms and wrapped them up again and he was safe.
He wouldn't let this happen again, he couldn't. Not when it was one of the worst feelings he has ever felt. The world almost ended when it happened to him. That's what his mind was reeling when he trudged into the brunet's container in the pouring rain, only to find his half frozen unconscious body.
Even if they were sworn enemy's, Dazai was one of the only real friends he has right now, and having him crying in his arms clinging onto him like a lifeline felt like he was being shot. It didn't feel good, not at all. He wouldn't wish this pain on his worst enemy.
But right now, all that matters was that Dazai felt comfortable and safe enough here to let his protective walls built around him to fall. For even just a moment, that would make Chuuya all the more happy.