I Don't Smoke (bsdxmha)

Orientation (Or not)

Blood is enchanting, Dazai decides. His vision flees past older marks on his arm, instead, he inspects the vermillion beads of liquid drying on his skin. He loves and hates it at the same time. Which to anybody else must seem totally fucked up, but Dazai is content with his situation. It is sick enjoyment to him, to see how much blood will slip out of his flesh. Count the drops that land on those cool bathroom tiles. Watch them spread.

Although the deep scars etched across him stay, he is never satisfied. A greedy little boy, they used to call him. Always wanting more.

Dazai robotically bandages himself up, like thousands of times before. The mundaneness of it all is frightening in itself.

Miraculously, Chuuya and he were granted separate bathrooms in this tiny apartment. Since he has his own, it's much less bothersome to keep clean. He tidies up a bit and walks out to find Chuuya devouring a bowl of cornflakes. He obviously doesn't care enough to greet Dazai or even look at him, but when he does decide to turn his head, he bursts into laughter at the sight of his work partner.

"You... you have to wear THAT? Hah...hahaha! Oh my god, you look like an idiot." Chuuya howls, ignoring the frustrated glare Dazai sends his way from the living room couch.

"Chuuya is such a bully! His brain must be too small to comprehend how great I look. Girls will be swooning, men will be dazzled." He says snootily. Referring to Chuuya in the third person is another way to get inside his head, and piss him off at the same time.

"Like hell anybody would love you when you look like a decaying mummy!" Chuuya swipes his fist at Dazai. He dodges, obviously.

Dazai sighs, tutting at Chuuya.

"They're mysterious! They keep my charm at bay! Who knows what someone would do if they saw how sexy my collarbone looks?! We'd need an ambulance!!"

"Whatever." Chuuya goes back to eating. Now that Dazai takes a closer look at him, his eyebags are massive. A long day then... No wonder he didn't respond like a yapping chihuahua.

Dazai groans at the prospect of school. He wants to sink into the couch and suffocate. He puts his face into the cushion in a half hearted attempt, but then he just feels stupid.

"Chuuyaa." Dazai whines as he's ignored by the ginger. "Chuuuuyaaaa. Chibi. Hatrack. Shortstack. Milk consumer." That gives him a raised eyebrow at the last one.

"Can you pass me my textbooks?" He asks, sprawling across the couch, "My legs are numb. My arms are falling off. My spirit is depleting at the idea of school. You have to help my poor soul!!"

Chuuya ignores him, opting to finish his eggs on toast. Dazai claws at Chuuya's form in the air, before dropping his arm entirely as he goes back to trying to suffocate himself.

"I guess I'll just die then." His voice comes out muffled.

"Have fun with that." Chuuya scowls. He is clearly not a morning person either.

Dazai crawls over toward his small stack of textbooks, whining the whole way there. Chuuya, in retaliation, kicks him in the direction he was originally heading. He's tempted to thank that little ginger. Dazai stuffs them into his backpack and sulks all the way out of their apartment building. What a dreary start to the day.

Dazai feels his phone buzz in his pocket. He almost groans at the prospect of answering, but decides to face whatever punishment he's been served now rather than later. He presses the answer button while scowling incredibly hard in an attempt to develop laser eyes and melt his phone.

"Mori." He sighs, continuing his walk to school.

"Good morning Dazai, I assume you know why I'm calling you. What was your motive for letting those children go?" Usually, phone lines aren't safe to talk about important details, so they have to be vague. At least outside of Yokohama. Since everyone knows about the Port Mafia, there's no point in keeping it a secret. The government knows somewhat about it and hasn't made any attempts to stop them either. Except...