I Don't Smoke (bsdxmha)

Your past and mine

The only feeling that was present and clouding his mind was an unquenchable, burning rage that simmered quietly amongst the trembles that racked his body and the burning in his eyes.

It was something he'd never properly felt before. Maybe when he was young - similar emotions emerged during his previous occupation. It was a wearisome and monotonous emotion that could be described as akin to waiting for a pear to drop out of a tree. He waited - through eyes that were barely open - for the pear to fall into his palms so he too could take a bite and cure his hunger.

His hunger was never fully satiated; Fullness is a treacherous thing to obtain. Greed is rarely rewarded. He had been content, and that was all that he needed to live. Until they - Until -

Their screams - distressing, lonely screams

His heart beats rhythmically in his ears. Faster and faster and faster and - and he briefly thinks of his two friends - his dear friends. He who has the reflection of a distraught child in his steeled eyes, he who loses his identity through each piling lie.

He glances down at the palms of his hands. A cat purrs somewhere nearby.

The wind rises with his hair in tow like it's trying to drag him into the sky. Just a little more time, he begs. Please, lend me some time.

He understands what he has to do.

—------------------

All for One speaks useless welcoming words meant to appease businessmen and consumers alike.

He speaks. He speaks to Dazai in the present and six long years ago in some distant memory. Except - it's not that distant, anymore. His eye aches. Dazai's eye aches, it hurts, he screams, he hurls, he -

He smiles, a polite indulgent smile with a glimmer of teeth amongst his lips. The man in front of him has no face, only a mouth that mirrors Dazai's smile, albeit a crueller version. He wears a plain monochrome suit and could almost pass for a regular businessman if not for the numerous tubes that are plugged into his body. It appears that despite his lack of eyes, a nose and other body parts, he can function normally.

"Meeting you too is of my interest. Why have you, a master villain, summoned me?" Dazai asks, polite in the presence of a man who enjoys playing God. He bears no resemblance to the real thing.

He asks, even though he is suddenly acutely aware of his unseeing eye, the few precision scars. Dazai will always recognise his voice, even if his face is morphed and torn apart.

"It's been so long. Dazai, how are you?"

"I see you and your doctor are still in a thriving partnership," Dazai comments, ignoring his question. Dazai clasps his hands tightly behind his back and leans to his right to peek at the shadowed finger.

All for One scratches his cheek. "We are up to quite a lot nowadays. Much busier than we used to be."

Dazai's gun is in his hand in an instant. It's pointed at All for One's face, right between where his eyes should be. The man's smile widens. The Doctor points his own machinery at Dazai, a garbled mix of wires and metal, but clearly functional.

"Don't try anything," the Doctor warns him on All for One's left, eyes narrowing underneath his goggles.

"It's alright Garaki," All for One speaks, but his gaze does not leave Dazai's hollow eyes. There's not a large probability of him being able to kill this man. But instead, he can do what he's always been good at doing; exploiting.

"I didn't take kindly to being your toy," Dazai says, polite smile dissolved into a blank expression.

"You were not a toy. You were my key to ultimate power! I fear that your dear Doctor Mori might have kept a bit of information from you, and that just won't do," All for One tuts like a discontent father. "I've always been interested in quirks. When I see a powerful one, I just have to take it. But yours, Dazai, is particularly amazing. No longer human. The antithesis of my quirk. I take, I collect quirks, and you? You destroy them."