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Dazai slowly opened his eyes, bright, soul piercing light flooded in. He quickly shut them at the pain it brought.
Where was he?
Dazai forced his body to relax, slowing his heart to the pace of a sleeping man, just as he was taught, and focused.
He listened to the irritating beeping of machines, the buzzing of fluorescent lights.
He smelled the blood and body odors attempted to be covered up by powerful chemicals and antiseptic.
He felt the thin material of a gown, the tightness of freshly applied bandages, and the familiar sensation of coldness being pumped into his left arm.
Ah. He’s in a hospital.
In Dazai's mind that made perfect sense, for all of two seconds, Why is he in a hospital? His attempt was perfectly planned, he’s a liability for the agency alive, his crimes had been uncovered, so he couldn’t join back with the ADA and if Mori has his way, he’d be forced to rejoin the mafia. He made sure there were no variables that would lead him to staying around. He needed more information.
With an exaggerated sigh Dazai opened his eyes and sat up in a smooth motion, the movement causing metal chains to clink.
“Hm?” He looked down to see a pair of handcuffs on each of his hands, attaching him to the raised sides of the bed.
Oh right. He is a wanted criminal. But they should know that such silly things wouldn’t keep him contained. At the thought Dazai softly giggled to himself.
A crackle from the far right wall caused him to suddenly turn his head towards it, to give the illusion that he hadn’t already seen the two way glass.
From behind the division a man clicked the intercom on, “Osamu Dazai, you have been detained after your escape from Meursault two days ago, we know you garnered the help of two foreign terrorists and a fellow prisoner. Due to the condition the breakout left Meursault, you are now being transported to a similar prison. You, Osamu Dazai, will not escape this time.”
Dazai felt his eyes widen slightly, his lips turning up to match. “You shouldn’t sound so confident in your words, that might be a hard promise to keep.”
The intercom crackled to life once again, “If you think that the gravity manipulator will save you again, you are sorely mistaken.”
Dazai let out a laugh, “Do you seriously expect me to believe that you have captured the Hat Rack?” He snickered for a minute, what a stupid way for them to try to make me afraid.
The man responded, “What makes you so sure that he wouldn’t be?”
Hm. There was a slight sense of confusion in the man’s voice as well as a tone of pride, could it really be that they managed to capture Chuyya? That is next to impossible…. Unless. Dazai sighed internally, That hatrack might’ve gotten himself captured on purpose just to locate him.
Smiling, he pulled out the I.V that’s saline was slowly being polluted with sedatives, from his arm, and rested his chin on his hand.
“HEY HOW DID YOU GET OUT FROM THE HAND CUFFS?!” Screamed the man, it was rather irritating to listen to.
“Do you mind shutting up, I’m recovering from a rather wide assortment of injuries currently and today has so not gone to plan.”
Heavy breathing filled the intercom before it was switched off suddenly.
Dazai moved to swing his legs over the bed, but was met with a red dot on his heart, a sharp contrast to the white hospital gown.
Ah. Maybe staying here for a while is a good idea. It takes a good few minutes to bleed out from a bullet wound, and those moments are filled with agonizing pain. Dazai slowly slipped back under the covers, sitting perfectly still. How does Chuyya think that being here would help anything? It only worsens the odds that he might be able to die peacefully, since now he has to bring that slug back to Mori. If not that piece of shit would probably stop helping the Armed Detective Agency, losing the heaviest hitter in the mafia would be more than enough reason too.
~-~-~-~-~
Where was that bastard? Chuuya fummed, storming down the road, as he turned a corner he was met by a large crowd.
What's happening here?
He pushed through the masses of people until he reached the edge of the crowd. His eyes widened, it felt like his heart had stopped and his blood was rushing to his ears. He could hear nothing, see nothing, except his partners mangled, and bloody body being loaded into an ambulance.
…. An armored ambulance.
One with the prison’s crest on the side. Dazai had been arrested. Again. But this time there was no plan, thought up of weeks ahead of time, with the pawns all set and informed.
Nope. Not this time.
Oh fuck. What can he do? Ah shit! Dazai is the one normally coming up with the plans.
They had shut the doors of the van and had started driving away.
Think Chuuya! What would that blockhead do?
….
Mori will have my head if I don’t come back.
….
No way! It's too dangerous, too many things can go wrong!
….
That actually might just work.
Chuuya let out a breath and activated Tainted Sorrow, rising himself into the air, he felt the wind ripple through his coat, he stared down at the van and yelled out, “Where the fuck do you think your going?!”
The van sped up. An armoured black car turned to face Chuuya, accepting his challenge.
He felt his lips stretch into an insane smile, it is such a shame that he can’t completely obliterate these idiots, after all he does still need enough of them alive that they can catch him, but he really wants to smash some heads in today. What he would do for that stinky mackerel.
~-~-~
These people weren’t total idiots. They had enough sense to know that they didn’t have the resources to completely contain Chuuya Nakahara, the most powerful member of the Port Mafia. Instead their plan was to keep him sedated until they did.
But unfortunately for them, they had no idea that thanks to Arahaki, drugs didn’t work on him for anywhere near as long as they did on a normal human.
Chuuya was still pissed that he had to lose that fight, even if it was to rescue that bastard, so it was harder to pretend to still be asleep when all he wanted to do was start a fight again.
He waited for the perfect moment, when there were the most people in the room, but also plenty outside of it, he slid off his gloves and jumped on his feet. Activating corruption, Chuuya felt his conscience slip away into a feeling of true rage, his last thought being, This better fucking work.
The sudden movements frightened every unaspecting person in the room, and triggering a rally of shots to be fired, Chuuya stopped them, and turned them on to the crowd. He let out maniacal laughs as he began to throw balls of gravity at people.
“CODE ORANGE, I REPET, CODE ORANGE!” Screamed a woman over the loud speaker.
From behind her a man sighed, “What should we do?”
A man in scrubs grimaced, “It will most definitely find us before succumbing, our best bet is to kill it.”
A young man spoke up, “How could we? It's impossible to shoot it, I say we send in someone with a nullifying ability.”
The woman frowned as she typed something into her computer, “It says the only ability user with that gift, that could arrive in time is….” She looked up, “Osamu Dazai.”
The man in scrubs groaned, “Of course it is.”
“What will we do sir?” asked the young man.
“Send him in. It's our only hope.” Sighed the man from the start.
“Right away sir.” Acknowledged the woman, frantically typing into her laptop, “He should be arriving in t-minus 5 minutes.”
-~-~-~-~
This is Chuuya’s plan? Smirked Dazai, That is rather smart for a dog.
He stood in front of a smashed building, he knew a rifle was trained on him, but once entering into the debris it would become nearly impossible to line up a good enough shot to kill him, as long as he was aware of where he stood, and where the sniper was positioned.
Which he was, but if the slug thought this all out... That was a harder bet to make. He probably just guessed what could happen without thinking it all through.
Shaking the thoughts off, Dazai ventured into the remains of the building, towards the screaming and sounds of destruction.
Ah. What memorable sounds, it reminded him of his time in the mafia, when team ups between him and the slug were much more common.
Dazai slowly approached the short man, who was facing away from him, and at a crowd of crying people. Chuuya was in the middle of making a ball of gravity above his head when Dazai rested his hand on his shoulder.
The effect was instantaneous, the shorter man slumped over, and he caught him, pressing Chuuya to his chest.
“I knew my plan would work.” He muttered out weakly.
Dazai huffed out a small laugh, “What a good doggy, finding its way back to its master~.”
“I hate you.” Was the only thing the hat rack could say before falling to sleep.
“I love you too.”
Dazai smiled softly at the man in his arms, despite everything, his meticulous planning, just to ensure that nothing would interfere with his death, was all for nothing, he couldn’t bring himself to really mind.
After all, it meant that Chuuya had saved him, once again.
He started dragging him away from the crowd, disappearing between the rumble and smoke.
One day that loyalty of yours will be the death of you Chuyya.