Shattered Glass

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Tw: Blood,SH

Chuuya emitted a loud, heavy sigh when he stepped into his apartment. He was exhausted from running several errands for the Port Mafia. Now, he just wanted to snuggle up with his annoying husband who was waiting for him to return and rest after the long day.

He hung up his coat on the wrack before walking further into the living room.


“Dazai! I’m home!” he called as the said boy wasn’t sitting on the couch like expected. Actually, it was rather quiet within the small quarters. It left a bit of an unsettling feeling in the boy's stomach.


The redhead frowned when he was greeted with silence. He decided to check their shared bedroom to see if the brunet was slouching in there. He could’ve possibly gone to sleep and hadn’t heard Chuuya.

Unfortunately, he wasn’t in there either. Where was that stupid Mackerel?


When he exited the bedroom, he finally noticed that just down the small corridor, the bathroom door was shut. Could Dazai have been taking a shower and hadn’t heard him over the spraying water? Albeit, Chuuya heard no water running, so he decided to approach the door and knocked his fist against the wooden surface a few times.


“Mackerel? You in there?” he asked. His brows pinched together when there was no response yet again. He sucked in an anxious, sharp breath.

“I’m coming in. You better not be trying to drown yourself in the sink again or I swear I'll punch you in the gut!”


He reached down and went to twist the knob, only to find the door locked. Panic quickly spiked in his chest. He proceeded to try and open the door by twisting the knob back and forth harshly. Of course, there was no prevail.


“Dazai! You stupid bastard! Open the fucking door!” He banged his fists against it, hoping to gain the brunet’s attention.

He kept shouting the latter’s name, but it was no use. This better wasn’t another one of those stupid pranks, he growled in his head, rapidly becoming antsy with the current situation.

He soon came up with an idea and stared at the door, considering it as there were many cons with the outcome of going through with it. Ah, fuck it. It was his only option, really.

He didn't know how to picklock doors like his partner could, nor did he have anything that small on him to work with. He could call for a repair later. He was more focused on Dazai.


He took a step back just before a red glow illuminated the shape of the door. In mere seconds the large slate of wood was torn off its hinges and—somehow—carefully placed to the side so it was propped against the wall.

It was a shock that the entire doorway wasn’t damaged at all with how the door was broken off with such force.

Chuuya rushed into the bathroom and almost fell over at the horrifying scene in front of him. His throat tightened and his legs went weak. He didn’t know how he still was able to support himself; he might as well had just used his ability to remain standing without being on the border of collapsing.

Of course, he had seen gushing blood and corpses thousands of times, but this was different.
terrifyingly different scenario. Maybe because it was the sight of his love in such battered condition—both physically and mentally, so it seemed.

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