I Don't Smoke (bsdxmha)

A moonstruck room

He is bloody, and he loves it.

He is bloody, and he absolutely loathes it.

Dazai's emotions battle around in his aching gut, confused and hopeless as he kneels above the dead figure of All for One. An almost immortal man, a human experimenter, and a father to Shigaraki Tomura whose lone eye sits only a few metres away. The man makes a choking sound - like a dying animal - and eventually succumbs to mortality like the rest of human beings do.

The blood clings to his skin and soaks into his bandages. Nobody can speak when faced with the stained catastrophe of the Demon Prodigy. The ruins lie silent, and Dazai takes it upon himself to drag his body away from the scene. He scrapes against the cement and broken pieces of buildings until he physically can't anymore. It's a pathetic display. He hopes nobody ever has to see him like this, but -

"Dazai!" Midoriya yells from a distance away, so far away that he is barely heard over the roaring in Dazai's ears. Perhaps he is paralysed by the fear of Dazai and Chuuya and can't move a single muscle. Maybe he's disgusted by the Demon Prodigy of the Port Mafia. He's too far gone, isn't he? He'll never be saved.

Someone moves toward him. Their feet stomp through the rubble, kicking stones in all directions in a messy display of crashes and noise. He knows who it is, of course, because even through the pain in his body and the spinning of his head, he'll always know,
"Dazai."

Chuuya reaches a hand out towards him.

"I think this is the first time I've actually had to look up to you," Dazai groans, but shakily grasps his partner's hand.

"Yeah, and I'm savouring the moment of how pathetic you look," Chuuya grins, holding his hat tightly in his other hand. Shockingly, it's as clean as usual.

Dazai wants to reply but ends up dissolving into a coughing fit, hacking away into his lungs. Chuuya's smile dwindles until it's a cross between a frown and something else.

"Is Chuuya worried? Gross..." Dazai says.

Chuuya aggressively grabs his wrist and begins to drag him along the dirt. It's a degrading sort of motion, one that feels deliberate, but Dazai doesn't mind.

"No," he spits. "I don't need to worry about you."

Dazai laughs, weak and scratchy. "I guess not."

Chuuya gives him an odd look. His face scrunches up and a faded scar on his cheek wiggles around with the motion.

"You're a fucking loser," Chuuya tries again, a less harsh tone in contrast to the usual hateful insults.

"Yep."

"And everyone hates your egotistical ass."

Dazai stays silent. If he were to speak, he would gasp and insult his partner back, and they'd go in circles of hate until one of them got tired enough to stop. And then it would repeat - once more and another again. And Dazai would listen as their voices would play like a broken, screeching record, and he would wonder where all this hate came from.

Dazai flops around the floor. He tries to make it harder for Chuuya to move him in every possible way, but unfortunately, Chuuya is stronger than he looks. His ripped-up shirt scrunches up under Chuuya's hand as he continues to heap him around.

All Might makes a move, a delicate step in the direction of Soukoku. Chuuya's head swerves in an aggressive yet slow manner, daring the man to move. The red glow of the tainted sorrow clashes with the sorry atmosphere. All Might falters.

Chuuya and Dazai leave the scene like ghosts. Not one person is brave enough to try and halt their tracks, only watching them silently as the two injured children gather the pieces of themselves they had lost.