Amethyst |Dazai x Reader

22. The Beginning of an End

꧂☼ஜீ☼꧁

As the slumped and tired figure of the white haired girl leaves the room, Alistair lets out a deep breath, one that he didn't realize he had been holding in. He places his hands on the smooth dark wood of his mahogany table, littered with several documents as his head hangs low between his shoulders. His fingers gripping on the edge of the table.

"One of you go keep an eye on her. Make sure she's resting. If she leaves, let me know immediately." He says out loud.

A muffled 'Yes sir' is heard along with shuffling footsteps from the other side of the heavy wooden door. Alistair makes his way around the table before collapsing on his chair. After a few silent minutes, he sits up straight, slapping his cheeks a few times. His dark hair falls over his eyes as his sharp crimson-red eyes glow softly, glinting dangerously.

"Get it together Alistair Goethe. You can figure this out. "

-

It had been a while since Dazai had been roaming the research facility. The inside had started to fall apart for disrepair and disuse had cloaked the establishment. The pipelines had started to crack and fall apart, rot and decay spread to all parts of the establishment.

After entering room after room, all empty and thrashed, most likely by the people who destroyed the facility in the first place, he comes across a room that was tucked away in the farthest corner of the facility. Behind endless winding and turning corridors, a room that seemed relatively in better condition than the rest, though that didn't mean it wasn't rotting. The room seemed to have been well hidden, protected even. The state of the room didn't look as bad as the others, at least from the outside that is.

The brunette enters, his previous opinion of the room dissipates. He's greeted with yet another room that was as bad as the rest of the rooms he had seen that night, if not even worse. A sigh escapes as he looks at the room which was blackened and burnt. Seeing as there was no signs of a fire outside the door, he concludes that it was probably set on fire from the inside.

He looks to the side and sees a fairly large bed overturned, along with a small table and two chairs, or what he could only assume was a chair from the charred pieces of wood. The walls were covered with the remainder of what probably was once a soft blue-lavender colored wallpaper, now overshadowed by a heavy black of the scars of a fire.

There's a moderately sized burnt bookshelf to the other corner of the room, reaching maybe up to his hips. He examines the bookshelf and the floor next to it and raises an eyebrow. He notices scratch marks on the floor next to the shelf among the charred traces of the floor. Drag marks he thinks as he uses his feet to push aside the bookshelf. As the piece of furniture is moved aside, he sees a small hole in the wall. He slowly crouches down, eyeing the hole when he realizes what it was.

A crawlspace. A small crawlspace in the wall, no bigger than a few feet. A small section of the wall hidden behind the shelf had what Dazai could only assume to be tiny scribbles. He looks further into the hole and sees remnants of what probably once were crayons and papers full of childish scribbles. The crawlspace, although very small, was probably big enough to fit a child in it. He looks around the room and a flash of realization comes across his face.

This was a child's room. Tucked away in the farthest and hidden corner of the research facility was the room of a little child.

Dazai glances at he charred and scribbled wall next to him and makes out faint doodles, and a scribble that says "tOdey me and my gEsts will have tEa parti togethr". The corners of Dazai's lips tug upwards as a small smile unconsciously finds its way on his face. His warm brown eyes flit to the rest of the scribbles as he makes out a drawing of four people holding hands and smiling. He could guess that this was probably the bedroom of the child of the two head researchers, the innocent child who was roped into the disaster they never asked for before they were even old enough to process the things happening to them.