Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Chuuya stood in his bathroom, staring at his reflection in the mirror. The more he looked, the more he wanted to rip his skin off and scream. The tight feeling around his chest, caused by binding back the thing he hated most about his body, was suffocating. It felt like a chain tugging on his neck, constantly reminding him this is who he is, and who he always will be.
“Suck it up. Turn on the water. Don’t look down.”
Those three steps were what he clung to like a lifeline when he needed to bathe himself. He lived seemingly religiously by them, as it’s what prevented a lot of breakdowns and relapses. Two weeks clean isn’t even that much.

“Pathetic..”
Just as Chuuya was about to step into the shower, he heard a familiar voice coming from the doorway. His boss, Dazai, stood there. Chuuya didn’t even move to cover himself up, he didn’t care at all what this man thought of him.
“You can’t keep doing this to yourself, Chuuya.”
“And who are you to tell me how to live, bastard?”
“Must I remind you of your place?”
“Get out.”

Dazai rolled his eyes.

“How did you even get in here anyways? I locked the front door.”

“I.. have a spare key?”

“I’ve literally NEVER given you a spare key.”

Dazai fell silent.

“I stole it.”

“Asshole! Give it here!”
Dazai sighed dramatically and dropped the key into Chuuya's hand.
“Now— just- Get OUT!”
“Well, looks like I struck a nerve there..”
“IVE TOLD YOU TWICE NOW! GET THE FUCK OUT!”

Dazai put his hands up in mock surrender, then turned to leave.
“So much for paying you a nice visit..”
Chuuya only returned to what he was doing when he heard the front door close. He got into the shower, refusing to look down as the hot water poured over his body. He tried to imagine himself doing anything else, but it was hard. He grabbed the bar of soap, ran it over his entire body as quickly as possible and only for as long as needed, then tossed it to the side and rinsed off his body. Same routine every single time. Nothing ever changed in the pathetic redheads life. Never.

That is until he found himself falling for that idiot, Dazai Osamu. He hated him. Everything about him, his hair, his eyes, the stupid way he talked and always knew he was right about everything, how he only ever showed the perfect amount of emotion—

A soft buzz came from his phone on the bathroom counter. Chuuya turned off the water and threw a towel around his body, then picked it up. It was a text.

Fuckass Osamu
Hi Chuuya. I’m sorry for earlier, it was really uncalled for… I hope you forgive me.

Chuuya groaned, tired of the man’s bullshit. He simply texted back.

Apology accepted.

He called it a day, switching the bathroom light off as he walked to his bedroom, still in a towel. He threw his phone onto his bed and walked into his closet, picking out a basic outfit to sleep in.

His eyes did linger on his arms a minute too long. Thoughts came flooding back.

…

He threw on a shirt and sweatpants, then walked quickly back to his bed, swinging his bedside table drawer open. He sifted through the contents until he found his box cutter. His breath was shaky as he stared at it. Then at his phone. Then back at it.

…

About an hour later he was laying down on his bedroom floor, blood dripping down his wrists and pooling on the floor beside him. Ah, classic Chuuya. Always resorting to hurting himself when life got slightly too hard. Pathetic.

He was never gonna quit, change or heal. He was a liar to everyone around him, and everyone believed whatever he said, because nobody wants to believe someone they know is unhealthy.

The lies? Yeah. Never gonna stop. He’d bring up being a week sober, knowing damn well that’s a week cut short. Everything just blurred together. The lying, the cutting, the people, the support, it meant nothing to Chuuya. A world where he couldn’t get what he wanted was a world against him, and a world against him didn’t deserve his acknowledgment.

The cleanup made him nauseous. Washing off his arms and putting bandages over them, watching as all the blood mixed with the water and found a home down the drain.

He knew he wasn’t human. What kind of human does this to themself— and feels nothing from it? Maybe a bit of pain or sadness, he felt hollow. Numb. Empty. The day his insides go still was the one day he was excited for.

So clean off your arms, go to sleep, wake up the next day like nothing ever happened. It won’t change.

Will he be this way forever?

Probably.

Chapter Text

“Goddamnit, Chuuya.” Dazai groaned

It was about a week since Dazai showed up uninvited to Chuuya's apartment. Now Chuuya stood in Dazai's office, arms crossed over his chest.

“What’s up with you lately? It’s like every order I give you is impossible! You just can’t do anything right, can you?!” Dazai scolded.

Chuuya just stared, unfazed at being yelled at.

“Are you even listening to me?!”

“Not really.”

“Your insufferable. God, all you do is sulk around and complain.”

Chuuya scoffed.

“Well, your one to talk.”

“Don’t get smart with me, Nakahara.” Dazai sounded angry, but there was no real bite behind his words.
They always did this. Dazai would get upset with Chuuya because of his lack of energy and proficiency during missions, yell at him a bit, and then feel bad afterwards and probably text him or show up to his apartment to apologize. Chuuya never really understood why the man didn’t just not scold him if he was going to put in that much work to apologize after.

“..Sorry.” Chuuya mumbled.

“…I know you relapsed last week.”
A silence fell over the room.
Chuuya tilted his head.
“So? Why do you care?”
“Are you kidding? You told me you were a month clean! You said you didn’t do that shit anymore!”
Dazai pointed an accusatory finger at Chuuya while he spoke.
Chuuya just shrugged.
“You’ve never cared about my mental health anyways, why now?”
Dazai sighed.
“Chuuya… I do care. A lot. I just show it different.”
Chuuya kept his arms crossed and stared down, acting like the pattern on the floor was the most interesting thing ever. Dazai got up from behind his desk and walked behind it, standing in front of Chuuya. He tried avoiding any spot on the redheads body that would be sensitive, but that’s practically his entire body, so he gave up and wrapped his arms around chuuyas waist.
Chuuya froze up.
“What are you doing?”
“Giving you a hug.” Dazais tone was much softer than before, when he was scolding him. His grip was loose and gentle on Chuuya.
“I don’t need whatever pity this is. I can handle myself, I have already for years.”
Dazai didn’t let go despite chuuyas words, and Chuuya found himself leaning into the embrace a bit.

Finally, Dazai let go and stepped back.
“Hey.. by the way, do you think we could—“
Dazai was cut off by Chuuya simply walking away. He didn’t chase after him, though. Dazai was always very confident that he knew everything about his employees at all times, probably overconfident.

Chuuya finally arrived home, and closed his apartment door. He sank to the floor after the absolutely exhausting interaction. When he finally picked himself up, he stumbled into his bathroom and gripped the edge of the counter, staring at his reflection. He leaned into the mirror, staring close at his face. Then he grabbed his pair of tweezers, pushing his bangs back with one hand and using the other to pluck out unnecessary hairs from his eyebrows. He didn’t do anything major, but how he had a stupid stinging sensation in his eyebrows. Whatever. He didn’t care, he just refused to let his appearance get out of control… Yeah. That’s what it was. He’d call it anything but insecurity. But to be truthful, insecurity is all he had.

No talents, love, hatred, anything. He was convinced he was just made up of insecurities, just dressed up in a bag of flesh that’d one day be ripped open so everyone would know who he truly was.

Every extra second he spent in that damned bathroom was another second he wanted to be shot in the face. He slid off his clothing as quickly as possible and ran the shower, waiting for the water to heat up. He picked up his phone while he waited, and ofcourse the only person texting him was Dazai.

Fuckass Osamu
Hey Chuuya, how are you?

Please stop ignoring me

Hey

I know your reading this

Chuuya continued to ignore the messages, setting his phone down. He glanced at himself in the mirror, before stepping into the shower. The water was hot. He stood, silent, feeling as the high temperature of the water cause a painful sting against his skin with every droplet. He didn’t react, though. Just stood there. Maybe it was a healthier way to feel pain instead of opening his skin. The warmth of the water almost resembled that of a warm embrace, too. He found himself sinking to the floor of the shower, sitting as the hot water sprayed in his face from the shower head. It was almost relaxing. It was one of the best shower experiences he felt he’d ever know.

He lost track of time. Thirty minutes of sitting in the hot water passed like nothing, and he immediately stood up and quickly washed himself, then got out and turned off the water.

He threw a towel around himself and grabbed his phone, rushing to his bedroom to get to sleep. Once inside, he found a familiar figure sat on his bed.

“..What the hell are you doing here?”
“I just wanted to make sure you were okay—“
“How the hell did you get in again?! You gave me your key! This is getting stalkerish, Dazai!”
“…I picked the lock.”
“God, there’s really something wrong with you..” Chuuya pinched the bridge of his nose.
“I wouldn’t have to pick the lock if you gave me a key! I thought you were hurt, Chuuya! I’m just looking out for you!”
Chuuya stared at him. Then looked down at the scars that lined his arms.

“..I’m just not sure how I feel about you, Dazai.”
“I’m not saying that.”

Tears welled up in the redheads eyes. Dazai noticed, his gaze softening.
“Look… if you want me to stop visiting altogether, you can just say so. I’m just trying to be a decent man and make sure your okay.”

“…”

Chuuya fell silent for a while. Dazai stood, staring at him, waiting for a response.

Chuuya kind of appreciated the uninvited appearances, it made him feel wanted without constantly begging to be seen, but at the same time the lock picking, key stealing, staring at him naked… it was all just a bit weird. No. A bit is an understatement. But.. Chuuya just couldn’t help but feel really wanted by him. I mean, who else goes out of the way to break into your home because your not answering your phone?

…Rhetorical question.

“I just need some space, okay?” Chuuya mumbled.
Dazai gave a gentle nod. “Okay. Just.. please answer my texts and calls. I really do worry about you.”
Chuuya shrugged and gave a more reluctant nod.

Dazai turned and left, giving a quick glance back at Chuuya before heading to the door and exiting his apartment.

Chuuya felt a slight pang in his chest. Dazai really cared about him. Maybe he wasn’t that bad. Tolerable.

Just maybe.