"Talking"
"Arahabaki talking"
'Thinking'
("Author's notes")
-----
Chuuya hauled himself onto the black sands of the shore, his lungs burning. The air here felt wrong-heavy with a primitive energy he didn't recognize.
The first thing Chuuya noticed wasn’t the smell of salt or the unfamiliar chirping of insects that sounded like grinding metal.
It was the silence.
Not the physical kind—the forest of Whale Island was loud, teeming with life that felt aggressive and strange. It was the spiritual silence. The tether, the invisible thread that always pulled toward a certain suicidal waste of bandages, had snapped.
Chuuya sat up abruptly, his hand instinctively reaching to his left. His fingers grasped nothing but humid air.
"Dazai?"
The name was a reflex, a plea disguised as a snarl. There was no response. No mocking laughter, no cryptic insult. Only the sound of the waves hitting the shore of a world that felt fundamentally wrong.
"He isn't here, boy."
Chuuya flinched, clutching his head as a voice tore through his skull. Usually, Arahabaki was a dull ache at the base of his spine, a heavy pressure he’d learned to walk with. Now, it was a roar. It felt as if the god had grown teeth and was currently gnawing on his prefrontal cortex.
"The air here... it’s delicious," Arahabaki purred, his voice echoing with a thousand overlapping tones. "It’s thick. Sticky. Like blood. Can you feel it, Chuuya? The leash is broken. The Mackerel’s 'No Longer Human' isn't rubbing against my skin anymore. I can finally stretch."
"Shut up," Chuuya hissed, forcing himself to his feet. He staggered, his equilibrium off.
He didn't realize it, but the "Ability" that had defined his existence since the explosion in Suribachi City had mutated.
The moment he’d crossed the threshold into this world, his soul had adapted. The gravity manipulation was no longer a fixed supernatural trait; it had become a localized manifestation of Nen. To Chuuya, it felt the same.
To anyone else? He was radiating a shroud of malice so dense it was practically visible as a dark red, flickering shroud.
He looked down at his hands. His black gloves were frayed. His right eye—the brown one—scanned the treeline for threats. His left eye—the blue one—burned with a faint, sky blue light.
"I need to find a way back," Chuuya muttered, his voice cracking. "The Port Mafia... the city... that idiot is probably burning Yokohama down because I’m not there to stop him."
"Why go back?" Arahabaki laughed, a sound like tectonic plates shifting. "Look at this place. Look at that beast watching us from the ferns. It has a 'spirit' just like yours. A little flickering candle of energy. I want to see if it turns red when you crush it."
A massive, fox-bear hybrid leapt from the undergrowth, sensing an intruder in its territory. It was three times the size of a man, its claws glistening.
Chuuya didn't even turn his head. He just shifted his weight, his mind screaming at the void on his left side where Dazai should have been standing, safely guarded.
The fox-bear hit an invisible wall ten feet away from Chuuya.
CRACK.
With a casual thought, Chuuya increased the gravity in a localized sphere. The beast didn't just fall; it was flattened into the dirt, the earth beneath it cratering in a perfect circle. The creature let out a whimpering yelp before the pressure became too much to allow even sound to escape.
"I'm not in the mood," Chuuya snapped, his eyes cold.
"Oh, come now," Arahabaki goaded. "That was barely a gram of effort. You're leaking, Chuuya. Your 'Aura' is screaming. There are more of them coming. Heartbeats. Thousands of them on this island, and some... oh, some feel much tastier than this mutt."
Chuuya looked toward the center of the island. He could feel it now—a strange, pulsing energy coming from several points. He didn't know it was Nen. He just knew it felt like a challenge.
He adjusted his hat, pulling the brim low over his heterochromatic eyes. His left side felt cold. It felt vulnerable. It felt like a wound that wouldn't stop bleeding.
"If I'm stuck here," Chuuya said, his voice dropping to a dangerous, low pitch, "I’m going to find the strongest person in this world and make them tell me how to get home. And if they can't..."
"Then we break this pathetic toy box," Arahabaki finished for him, sounding delighted.
Chuuya took a step, and the ground shattered beneath his heel. He didn't need a boat to leave this island. He just needed to find a reason not to let the god inside him swallow the sun.
---
("Sorry for the short chapter")
794 words
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Singularity: The God Without A Grave
FanfictionChuuya Nakahara is no stranger to being a weapon, but he's always had a leash. Whether it was the Sheep, the Port Mafia, or the neutralizing touch of a certain "shitty mackerel," there was always something keeping the god inside him from swallowing...
