Chances | Dazai X Reader

Seventy Eight • The End Is Not Near

"—I'll always be here."

• • •

The next few weeks after the mission seem to have gone well. Things are slowly becoming more comfortable again between you and Dazai—he would always seem nervous when it came to touching, he was afraid he might hurt you. But—after constant reassurance—everything seems to be going smoothly.

Well, and to mention the talk Mori had with Dazai throughout the past few weeks...

• • •

He sits in the seat he usually takes when it's just Mori and him, there's no need to act so professional. Now, Dazai may walk in like he owns the place, and maybe in another universe, there is a thicker line of respect drawn between them. "I had a question," Mori says, finally breaking the silence between them. Honestly, Dazai prefers the silence over Mori's voice—

"Go on," he replies, knowing that Mori's going to ask him either way. Mori grins, "Do you happen to know if there is an ability that is capable of controlling someone else?" Dazai raises an eyebrow at the question. "Mind control? There has to be, it'd be amusing if there wasn't in a world like this..." he chuckles to himself.

"Hmm, not mind control exactly," Mori rephrases, looking up towards the ceiling. "There's a guy who can manipulate a person's body—move it like some sort of puppet," Dazai starts, scratching his jaw with his thumb as he thinks. "Ah," he says, like a lightbulb went off in his head, "he would give some sort of number, I don't remember too well—"

"You've fought this skill user before?" Mori questions. He's always done a few background checks on the people he goes after, and in his short memory, an ability user like that doesn't ring a bell. Dazai shakes his head. "That wasn't here," he mumbles to himself, and before Mori can ask him what he means, he changes the conversation. "Why are you asking, anyway?"

"No reason," Mori answers—a little too quickly, according to Dazai. "What are you plotting, Mori?" Dazai asks him, leaning in on the table, closing a little distance between them. And since Dazai isn't fifteen anymore, and he's grown a lot, they naturally meet eye-to-eye while sitting.

Mori chuckles, "You're dismissed."

Dazai grits his teeth, wanting to get his answer now rather than get it when Mori does what he's clearly planning. He gets up from the chair, placing his palms down on the table, heavily, putting pressure on the table as he lifts himself up.

Painfully, he hates to admit that Mori makes him feel more in touch with himself—a side that no one is meant to see because it's just too much for an everyday act. Making his way to the door, right before he turns so that he's no longer in sight—

"You'll find out, Dazai."

• • •

And throughout those weeks, Mori hasn't done anything...yet.

He sits in the chair opposite to the bed, spaced out as he thinks about something. You occasionally glance over at him, wondering what he's thinking. Noticeably, he does space out a lot—sometimes he talks to himself, laughs at something he heard in his head. Other times, when you're not around to see, he looks like he might break if someone gets too close to him.

Meanwhile, Chuuya sits in his room, now overthinking everything because—

It's been a goddamn while since his last encounter with Tachihara. Believe him, he enjoyed spending time with him, and he seriously does not want to lose him as a friend, as a person. Even though he pretty much blatantly rejected the guy— Tachihara said that it was only a one time thing, but now that Chuuya actually thinks about it...he sounded so hurt when he said it. As if that was the only way he could mask what he was truly feeling.

Time will fix things, he thinks to himself.

He wants to believe that it's true.

"[Y/N]," Dazai says, and you turn your head over to look at him. Dazai started wearing his rings inside too, he claimed that he liked the feeling of them on his fingers— "Yeah?"

His legs are spread a little, they look more powerful that way, like he's in charge of the place—or like he's a model, whichever one you prefer. And that's when you notice that one of his hands is actually right on top of his—

Okay—trying not to pay attention, even if Dazai already saw your eyes look down, and he's now smirking at you.

"Do you wanna go out?" he asks. It is nice outside, and it's also dark, but the only question is. "Where?" you ask, not saying yes or no just yet.

Then that hand is sliding up, rubbing upward and then moving to rest on his hips, and with rings like that on his hands? It's undeniably hot. He leans in, resting his elbows on his legs. "Oh, baby, anywhere you want," he grins boyishly as he speaks, testing out the pet name. "But—" he starts before you can respond, "at the end, we have to go to a certain place."

"Well, I seriously don't have to go anywhere, especially at this time," you reply, "so why don't we go to that certain place?" Dazai smiles in agreement, "Okay, let's go." He gets up from the chair, and you look at him, shocked, "Is this your way of saying that you're driving?"

"Hey! I've gotten better," he protests, voice changing dramatically. "Yeah, okay—whatever makes you feel better," you tease, laughing as you get up from the bed, leaving behind whatever you were doing—it wasn't too important anyway.

Once you reach the, now 'parking lot' of the Port Mafia, Dazai grabs one of the car's keys, spinning it around his fingers almost skillfully. Before going, he decided to wear all black again—he's now realizing that he likes the look overall. He opens the door for you, letting you take your seat first.

Starting the car, he waits a moment, pulling down the visor to reveal the mirror. He starts fixing his hair, pulling back the left side so that it tucks behind his ear while letting a few strands lay on his cheek.

God.

He turns over to look at you as he puts the visor back up.

"Ready?"