(C. 4) A Room of One's Own

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It had been a long day, and the assignment given to him by the boss had turned into something much more involved than he had hoped thanks to a hotheaded redhead he'd encountered in the slums. That didn't stop Dazai from taking a look around his new home. After the discussion with Chuuya where Mori decided that he would be helping in the investigation, Mori had shown him his new room. It was nice, bigger than the old one he'd inhabited above the clinic. 

Dazai had remained within its four walls only long enough to determine that Mori was gone before slipping back out into the hallway. He wandered aimlessly, admiring the blood red walls and guilt fixtures. Hearing footsteps, he quickly ducked around a corner, hiding himself from view.

It was the sounds of two people walking down the hall and, from what he could hear, stopping at about the midway point.

"This will be your room, my dear."

He recognized Mori's voice immediately.

"I get my own room?" Y/n's voice responded in wonder.

"Yes Pet, you've been so good I figured you deserved a reward."

There was the sound of a door opening.

"After you." came Mori's voice.

Dazai peaked around the corner just in time to see which door they were disappearing into. He waited after that, for a little over an hour. Just when he was about to cut his losses and head back to his own room for some much needed rest, he saw the knob begin to turn. He watched, careful not to move or make a noise, careful not to betray his position, as Mori closed the door behind himself. He turned, pulling a key from his pocket, and swiftly locked it. Slipping the key back into its home, Mori adjusted one of his gloves before walking away from Dazai down the hallway.

I wonder what they were doing in there for so long. Dazai thought to himself as Mori's footsteps grew quieter, carrying him into the distance. 

He waited until the sound of his shoes on the soft carpet had completely faded out of earshot, and then waited a little bit more. While the excitement of doing something behind his master's back was appealing, he didn't want to think about what might happen if he got caught.

Finally deciding the man was far enough away and most likely not coming back, Dazai stood from his crouched position. He stretched as he made his way to the door, back aching from hiding for such an extended period of time. As he reached it, he pulled a bobby pin from the pocket of his trousers, his coat remained abandoned in his room along with the fake cast he had procured and been wearing most of the day. Within only a few moments, he heard the telltale click of the lock coming undone and got to his feet, opening the door.

The first thing he noticed about the room as he entered it, was that Y/n was nowhere in sight. The second was that the showed was running.

Quietly he shut the door behind him before beginning to really look around. It was a large space, larger than his own. The walls were the same deep red as those in the hallway and the furniture was made of heavy, dark wood. He noted that the maroon and gold blankets on the ornate four poster bed in the corner were messy and that the windows were all too thin for even the smallest child to squeeze through.

Besides the bed, the room was largely empty. There was a gold embroidered carpet on the dark floor, a dressed with a matching closet, a desk that seemed to double as a vanity. He was surprised to also find a large, floor to ceiling bookshelf full to the brim with books running along one wall. He hadn't taken the girl for a reader but, then again, he couldn't really claim to know much about her at all. That was why he was here.

The shower stopped and Dazai took a seat at the desk, book in hand. He read for several minutes, some story about a girl who wanted to be a witch, listening to the noises coming from within the bathroom. After what seemed like ages, he heard the door open and looked up to see Y/n stepping out. Her hair hung around her face, pooling onto her shoulders and sticking to her bare neck with its dampness. She was wearing a white nightdress the lace edging of which just reached her knees. It was the first time he had ever seen her arms completely bare as the dress had thin straps across the tops of her shoulders and nothing else. They were red from the warmth of the water still and bruised like the rest of her always seemed to be. Catching Dazai in her chair, she gasped in surprise, her dress from earlier falling from her hands and hitting the floor softly.

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