Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

The sky above Yokohama was a swirling maelstrom of darkness and fire, the air thick with the acrid stench of smoke and the tang of blood. The city's skyscrapers trembled as the dragon, a monstrous beast of scales and fury, let out an earth-shattering roar. Its wings, vast as the heavens themselves, beat the air with the force of a typhoon, sending shockwaves rippling through the streets below. Chuuya Nakahara stood on the crumbling rooftop of a high-rise, his heart pounding as he gazed at the creature that loomed above him, its eyes glowing with an otherworldly malevolence.

Beside him, Dazai Osamu lay unconscious, his normally sharp features slack and pale, a thin line of blood trailing from a gash on his temple. Chuuya clenched his fists, his knuckles white with the effort. He could feel the raw power of Arahabaki, the god of calamity sealed within him, pulsing beneath his skin, a relentless, destructive force that threatened to consume him whole.

There was no other choice. Dazai was the only one who could nullify Corruption, the only one who could save Chuuya from himself. But Dazai was helpless, and the dragon was closing in, its jaws wide and ready to snap them both up in one bite. Chuuya took a deep breath, steeling himself for what was to come. He knew the risks—if Dazai didn’t wake up in time, if the dragon’s attack was too swift, if he lost control of Arahabaki… he might not survive this.

But for Dazai, for the man who had been his partner, his rival, and, in some twisted way, his friend, Chuuya was willing to take that risk.

With a feral cry, Chuuya unleashed Corruption. The air around him crackled with energy as Arahabaki surged to the surface, filling his veins with a scorching heat that threatened to burn him alive. His vision blurred, darkened, until the world around him faded away, replaced by a vast, endless void.

And then, in the depths of that void, Chuuya found himself somewhere else entirely.

He was standing in a field of silver grass, under a sky painted with the colors of twilight. The air was cool and fragrant, carrying the scent of night-blooming flowers and the distant sound of water flowing over stones. It was a place of serene beauty, untouched by the chaos of battle, and for a moment, Chuuya could hardly believe he was still alive.

In the centre of the field, a figure danced. The dancer was light on their feet, moving with a grace that seemed almost otherworldly, their movements a perfect harmony of fluidity and precision. The dancer's form was familiar, almost hauntingly so, and as Chuuya took a step closer, his breath caught in his throat.

The dancer was a younger version of himself, eight or nine years old, his face still holding the roundness of youth, his eyes bright with an untainted joy that Chuuya could barely remember. The boy’s hair, a vivid red like his own, was longer and flowed freely as he twirled, and as Chuuya watched, the boy unfurled a pair of majestic wings. They were radiant, glowing with a light so pure that it seemed to push back the encroaching darkness.

“Is this… Arahabaki?” Chuuya wondered aloud, his voice hoarse with confusion.

The younger Chuuya paused in his dance, his wings folding neatly behind him as he turned to face the older Chuuya. A smile spread across his youthful face, and there was something in his eyes—something ancient and knowing, despite his innocent appearance—that made Chuuya’s heart skip a beat.

“Who knows?” the younger Chuuya said with a playful giggle, his voice bright and melodic. “We can take many forms, after all.”

“We?” Chuuya echoed, his mind spinning. “Then… who’s fighting out there? Who’s using Corruption?”

The younger Chuuya giggled again, the sound light and carefree, so at odds with the seriousness of the situation that it sent a shiver down Chuuya’s spine. “It’s not time for you to know that yet,” the boy said cryptically, his eyes sparkling with a secret he had no intention of sharing.

Chuuya opened his mouth to protest, to demand answers, but the boy didn’t give him a chance. Instead, he extended a hand, inviting Chuuya to join him. “Come on, watch with me. There’s still time.”

Chuuya hesitated. He could feel the battle raging on somewhere far away, could feel the dragon’s breath scorching the earth, could feel Dazai’s life slipping away with every passing second. He wanted—no, he needed—to be out there, fighting, protecting Dazai, stopping the dragon before it was too late. But here, in this strange, peaceful place, he was powerless, a mere spectator in his own life.

The younger Chuuya seemed to sense his turmoil, his fear, his desperation. The boy’s expression softened, and he stepped closer, placing a gentle hand on Chuuya’s arm. “Don’t worry,” he said softly. “We'll save Dazai. I promise. He’ll wake up soon, and he’ll nullify Corruption. Everything will be okay.”

The boy’s words were reassuring, his tone so full of confidence and certainty that Chuuya couldn’t help but believe him. He let out a shaky breath, the tension in his body easing ever so slightly. “Okay,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. “I’ll trust you.”

The younger Chuuya beamed, his wings fluttering in excitement. “Good! Now, let’s enjoy the dance.”

With that, the boy resumed his performance, twirling and leaping through the air with a joy and freedom that Chuuya hadn’t felt in years. There was something mesmerising about it, something that drew Chuuya in despite himself. The boy’s movements were precise, almost too precise for someone so young, yet they were filled with a boundless energy and enthusiasm that made the dance all the more enchanting.

As Chuuya watched, he felt a strange sense of peace settle over him, a peace that was at odds with the storm of emotions churning in his chest. He knew that the real battle was still being fought, that the dragon was still out there, that Dazai’s life was still in danger. But here, in this dreamlike world, none of that seemed to matter. Here, he could simply be.

Time passed in a blur, the boy’s dance becoming a tapestry of light and motion that Chuuya couldn’t look away from. He didn’t know how long he stood there, watching, but eventually, the younger Chuuya slowed to a stop, his wings folding around him like a cloak. The boy turned to Chuuya once more, his eyes shining with a mixture of pride and joy.

“It’s time,” the boy said softly. “Dazai’s waking up.”

Chuuya felt his heart skip a beat, a surge of hope and relief flooding through him. “You’re sure?”

The boy nodded, his smile unwavering. “I’m sure. You’ll be okay, Chuuya. We’ll both be okay.”

Before Chuuya could respond, the world around him began to fade, the field of silver grass dissolving into darkness. He could feel Arahabaki’s power receding, the heat in his veins cooling, the overwhelming force of Corruption slipping away. And then, just before everything went black, he heard the boy’s voice, soft and distant, like a whisper on the wind.

“Thank you for trusting me.”

When Chuuya opened his eyes, he was back on the ground, the sky above him clear and blue, the dragon nowhere in sight. Dazai was beside him, conscious and grinning that infuriating grin of his, his hand resting on Chuuya’s shoulder.

“You did good, Chuuya,” Dazai said, his voice tinged with a rare note of sincerity. “I knew you’d pull through.”

Chuuya let out a shaky laugh, relief flooding through him as he met Dazai’s gaze. “Yeah,” he said, his voice hoarse but steady. “I guess I did.”

And as he looked up at the sky, where the last traces of the battle had vanished like a bad dream, Chuuya couldn’t help but wonder about the boy he had met in the depths of his mind, the boy who had danced with such joy and freedom.

Maybe, just maybe, there was more to Arahabaki than he had ever realised.

Chapter Text

After the harrowing encounter with Shibusawa and the dragon, Chuuya Nakahara found himself ensnared in a web of baffling mysteries, the most perplexing being the childlike version of himself that surfaced whenever he activated his ability, Corruption. The mere existence of this alternate form sparked an insatiable curiosity within him. Were there more versions of himself hidden within the folds of Corruption? Driven by a relentless desire to uncover the truth, Chuuya embarked on a solitary mission, resolved to explore the depths of his power. However, he chose to keep his findings under wraps, not yet ready to share them with anyone—not even Dazai.

One moonless night, Chuuya ventured to a remote and desolate location, a place far removed from the prying eyes and bustling noise of Yokohama. The silence was almost palpable, broken only by the whispering wind and the occasional rustle of nocturnal creatures. Here, in this isolation, Chuuya prepared himself for what he knew was a dangerous, almost suicidal endeavor. With a deep, steadying breath, he activated Corruption.

As the familiar, all-consuming energy surged through him, Chuuya's surroundings morphed into a surreal landscape. The first figure to emerge from the distortion was the childlike version of himself, dancing with an innocent exuberance that seemed out of place in the ominous setting. But this time, there was another presence. A female version of Chuuya materialized from the swirling mist, her appearance both startling and captivating. She looked strikingly similar to Chuuya but carried an air of feminine grace and maturity. Her long, auburn hair flowed freely, and her eyes sparkled with a knowing glint.

The female Chuuya regarded him with a playful smile. "Well, well, look who’s back," she said, her voice lilting with amusement. "You just can’t stay away, can you?"

Chuuya was taken aback, not just by her sudden appearance, but by her familiarity. He couldn’t recall their last encounter. "Who are you?" he demanded, his voice edged with frustration. "And why do you look like me?"

She giggled, a sound that echoed eerily in the surreal space. "I’m you, of course. Or rather, a version of you. We met before, but I see you don’t remember." She paused, her expression turning more serious. "You see, we are all different facets of the same entity. You are the central version, the main Chuuya, while the rest of us are... side versions."

Chuuya's eyes widened as her words sank in. "Arahabaki? So, all these forms... they’re all different aspects of Corruption?"

The female Chuuya nodded. "Exactly. Each form represents a different part of your psyche, your power. But understanding and controlling them isn’t easy. It’s a journey, not a destination."

As she spoke, the childlike version of Chuuya continued to dance around them, oblivious to the gravity of the conversation. The female Chuuya, or Arahabaki, continued with a teasing glint in her eye. "You know, you’re not as tall as I expected," she said, stifling a laugh. "Maybe if you spent less time brooding and more time stretching, you’d grow a bit."

Chuuya bristled at her teasing. "Cut it out! I get enough of that from Dazai," he snapped, his irritation clear.

Lady Chuuya's laughter was soft, almost musical. "Relax, I’m just having a little fun. But seriously, Chuuya, you need to understand that Corruption is not just a tool. It’s a part of you, and it’s something you need to come to terms with."

Before Chuuya could respond, the tranquil moment was abruptly interrupted by the arrival of Dazai and Ango. They had tracked him down after receiving urgent intelligence about his reckless use of Corruption. Their faces were etched with a mixture of fear and urgency as they approached.

"Chuuya!" Dazai shouted, his voice tinged with exasperation and concern. "What the hell do you think you’re doing? You could’ve died!"

Chuuya, still processing the cryptic advice from Arahabaki, barely registered their presence. Dazai, seeing the state Chuuya was in, reached out to touch him, intending to nullify Corruption. But just as his fingers were about to make contact, Chuuya felt a strange sensation, and the energy of Corruption abruptly dissipated. The swirling mist vanished, along with the childlike and female versions of himself.

Dazai and Ango stared in shock as Chuuya collapsed to his knees, breathing heavily. "What... what just happened?" Ango muttered, his voice barely audible.

Chuuya looked up at them, confusion etched across his features. "I... I don’t know," he said, his voice shaky. "One moment, I was talking to... them, and the next, it all stopped. I don’t remember how."

Despite the disorientation, Chuuya felt a sense of accomplishment. He had somehow managed to deactivate Corruption on his own, an impressive feat considering the uncontrollable nature of the ability. However, the cryptic words of Arahabaki lingered in his mind, reminding him that his journey of understanding and controlling Corruption was far from over. For now, though, he had taken a significant step forward, even if the path ahead remained shrouded in mystery.