Emotions [Dazai x Reader] ✓

7 | Abilitity's accuracy

'I know you're paying for the both of us but this place is awfully cheap. Scrooge.'

I glared up at him from the menu, gathering all energy in me to resist the temptation of swapping it against his head. 'If you're not happy with it, pay for a fancier dinner yourself.'

Shortly after having made our order, the slim waiter returned with our dishes, wishing for us to enjoy the meal. I clasped my palms together thanking for the meal, having Dazai lagging in doing the same; he rested his cheek against the back of his hand, elbow set on the table, and poked his food deep into the plate with his cutlery. The apathetic look on his face clearly indicated the lack of enthusiasm he had for his food, and he let out a faint sigh.

'Dazai,' I called out to him. Almost immediately he gazed up at me, his brown eyes catching the light of the small chandelier above us and holding it firmly, alluding his irises to be a few shades brighter and almost making it seem as if there had never been any desolate gloom in them.

'Hmm?' he quizzically mumbled, awaiting further conversation from me.

I hesitated before I spoke, having forgotten why I had initially addressed him. 'Yes, ugh...' I looked down at his fork digging deeper into the chunk of meat sitting on his plate. 'Aren't you going to eat your food?'

He rested his fork on the side of his plate and stretched out his arms, letting out a small whine as he did so. 'You see, I'm not really hungry.' - But you're complaining about the price of the dish. 'I could go for a drink though.'

'Drinking on an empty stomach is poison for the body.'

'That's the point.' He pushed himself up from the chair and threw his black trench coat over his shoulders.

I protested for him to stay and force at least half his meal in but he refused, stating that in doing so he'd only feel worse, and threatened to deliberately make himself throw up to make me guilty for pressuring him to eat the food "only because I paid for it".

So now I was following him deep into the night, struggling to hurry after him as he conducted his way through several hidden passageways and between buildings threatening to collapse within a few months' time. After a while I wasn't sure what my main aim for following him had been - I didn't think his idea of drinking with an empty stomach was a smart one, but I equally had no real reason for needing to stop him from doing so. I was simply following him. Until we entered a hidden bar.

The bar was wholly stripped of life except for the voice of the bartender cursing to himself behind a closed door. It seemed to be the place to receive little to no customers; the counter was immaculate, the reflection of any customer almost visible on the attentive wood carving which patterned its top. The barstools also retained no markings of being sat on a regular basis, still seeming to have just been bought and placed there just a few minutes before our arrival.

Dazai comforted himself on a stool and patted one beside him invitingly. I shook my head, claiming my need to return home - or the Mafia, whichever at this point. 'You followed me all the way over here, you're not that much in a hurry,' he counter-argued, turning to face the counter directly to rest his elbows on the wooden surface. 'We should at least toast to your recruitment with us; we still haven't done that, plus,' he looked back at me, zealous existence absent in his eyes again. 'It could serve as an opportunity for both of us to get to know each other.'

After failed protesting arguments I finally gave up, taking the seat beside him in defeat and having his "usual" placed on the countertop in front of me. I picked up the crystal glass and analysed the beverage thoroughly, cringing as I took a sniff of it. 'This smells horrible! How can people down this as if it were a glass of water?'