I Don't Smoke (bsdxmha)

An unexpected meeting

Dazai walks out of the UA gates grumpily. What a waste of time, that exam was useless. No further acquaintances, no valuable insight. It feels quite unproductive for someone who could have been doing mafia work and contributing to protecting Yokohama. Ok, his motives aren't that noble. It's just more fun than fighting robots and working up a sweat.

Dazai arrives at his apartment already past five pm. Chuuya is nowhere in sight, but that's pretty normal.

Dazai doesn't do much in his free time. He doesn't really have any free time, it's usually filled with new orders from Mori. Sometimes he wonders if Mori even thinks of him as anything but a puppet for his own entertainment. His eyes slink around the apartment. He could eat, but it's also not particularly hungry.

Right now he can... Sleep. Yeah, sleep sounds good. He strips himself of his clothes and turns on the shower to the hottest setting. The water runs down his scarred skin, burning it bright red. Steam curls around his body and settles around the bathroom.

Pain is such an inconvenient way to divert his agonising life. Some may think he may sound full of himself, or that he's exaggerating, but there are simply no other words to describe how he lives his daily life. His existence itself is unfortunate and isolating.

Dazai lazily steps out of the shower, wrapping his body with those familiar white bandages. He makes his way to his room to find some fresh clothes from his untouched suitcase. Track Pants and a long-sleeved shirt. The sun leaves orange light filtering through the only window in his room. The warmth is somewhat pleasant, he supposes.

Chuuya will probably make his way home soon, at nine pm latest. If he isn't home by midnight Dazai might have to drag him back himself... it would be no good to have his dog run away.

His bed is soft, far softer than his one back in Yokohama. It's like it's swallowing him up and trapping him. It's so odd to come back home to a real building with real aircon and electricity. And coming back to Chuuya. Back in that dirty shipping container, there was only him. Now he's surrounded by people constantly, and it's frightening.

With a lot of twisting and turning, he finally succumbs to sleep.

When Dazai wakes up, it is dark out. The moon shines brightly down upon his window and the cold breeze ambles past the gap. Dazai shivers at the outside temperature. He must have left the window open. The sheets on his bed are tangled far beyond imagination, so he kicks them to the floor entirely. He'll deal with that later... probably.

Dazai strides into the kitchen, looking for signs of Chuuya's return. Sure enough, his ugly hat is sitting on the dining table and there is a half-filled glass of water next to it. He glances at his phone, where the time reads 2:07 am. Dazai takes a seat next to that stupid hat. He wonders when Chuuya got home. Did he eat when he was out? There's no sign of food around, so that's the most likely theory.

He sighs heavily, resting his head on the kitchen counter and starts tapping random patterns on the stone surface. Why couldn't he have stayed asleep longer? Now he's awake and won't be able to sleep.

It's no fun. It's terrible. It's life threatening boredom.

Well, he could go out... A walk never hurt anyone, except for that time he went out for a late-night stroll and was attacked by a gang of local thugs hired by another small organisation to assassinate the demon prodigy of the Port Mafia. They were easy to trick and he got away with a lovely jacket as a souvenir.

He needs to buy some whiskey and another cigarette packet, anyway. Speaking of cigarettes, this is a perfect time to go out for a smoke. He treads back into his bedroom to find his black coat thrown into the corner of his room. There are already wrinkles on it. Usually, the coat is dry cleaned every few weeks by Mori (Dazai couldn't care less how his clothes look. Mori hates it when Dazai looks messy). He piles everything he needs into the pockets on the inside of the coat, including his pistol.