the whole anti-ability tranquilizer gun thing is absolutely fascinating, because how were those made, and they obviously had to test them on ability users to make sure they work, and maybe even to what degree
like what if dazai had gotten experimented on himself as a kid for his "anti ability ability" and they used results from that experiment to make those anti ability guns
because it provides a possible answer into how the government subdued beast!chuuya and neutralized his corruption without dazai in the picture
but also what if there are different types of tranquilizer guns for different kinds of ability users, like bullets wouldn't work on chuuya
maybe poison darts or something like a taser gun for him
maybe they also take a gamble on tranquilizing beast!chuuya because they had tested those guns on verlaine once upon a time and believed they would work on chuuya too
god thinking about the brave soul(s) staring down corruption chuuya and aiming those guns at him, i feel ill
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sipping on my coffee and thinking about the BEAST ending and specifically how Chuuya gets captured and imprisoned by the government after using corruption
but how is he neutralized if Dazai is already dead in that world
I had two theories, one more angsty than the other
either the Beast Chuuya introduced from the start is actually the clone and he's able to control corruption to some degree, or the Chuuya seen at the end imprisoned was swapped at some point and human Chuuya died, and the one left imprisoned is the clone and him saying, "Who's Dazai?" is actually the clone having no memory of Dazai instead of a sarcastic response
a rehash of stormbringer happens and Beast!Verlaine is needed to neutralize Chuuya's gravity manipulation - something something negative and positive kinetic energy clashing
then a more basic idea I sorta thought of was a scientist tied to Project Arahabaki having access to the words to the incantation and being able to reseal the gate once open but probably isn't it as Beast Chuuya had wiped out a number of squads before being subdued, so even getting access to him was difficult
Flinging my og!Chuuya and beast!Chuuya at you lovingly
His other self? Another version of him? They were alike enough that they could probably be confused for one another minus their suits, but calling an entirely different person by his own name felt strange.
It hadn’t stopped him before, though. The cloned version of himself was forever stuck in the past and may never find peace after being used for evil posthumously, but he lived on in Chuuya’s heart and mind as someone who deserved better and was too kind for the world he was born into against his will.
“So, you got any nicknames or something I can call ya by? To make this…whole situation less confusing.”
“What? Is calling me ‘Chuuya’ not good enough for you? Only you deserve to be called that?” he sneered and turned his chin up at Chuuya, looking down on him. “Then perhaps you want to call me a dog, a servant, the right-hand man to the boss. Any of that sound familiar to you?” His hands tightened into fists at his sides as he let out a shaky breath. “Never mind the last one. It’s outdated now.”
Rage radiated from the other Chuuya, and it felt like being crushed alive under his own ability. The clone was so kind, so feeble despite the circumstances all those years ago, and what happened with this one? This Chuuya looked ready to grab him by the throat and strangle him for reasons unknown—just that he was the target of their hate.
What happened to you? What went wrong in your world that you became so hateful and distrusting? He kept these questions to himself because he knew he wouldn’t like the answers. It wasn’t anything good, and looking in the mirror was difficult enough knowing how his own life had unfolded over the years.
“No, you’re Chuuya as much as I am.” Choosing his words carefully felt like tiptoeing across a minefield. “We’re not that different. I know damn well, better than anyone else, what it’s like to be left in the dust while everyone turns their backs and moves on.”
“Cute,” the other Chuuya said with a bitter smile. “But we both suffered through the same things when we were younger, that hasn’t changed. So, of course I know what you went through. The only thing that’s different is that it hasn’t ended for me. You broke out of it. And I didn’t. And I don’t think I ever will.”
The words came fast like punches. He spoke calmly without a trace of the rage from earlier, his hands dangling at his sides, and that unnerved Chuuya. He had the hollowed voice of someone who gave up at some point and moved on to accepting that fact.
“Are you afraid to die?”
He didn’t answer Chuuya. The silence was deafening, suffocating, something he wasn’t good at handling. Dazai had quirks like that familiar to him, but Dazai was his annoying ass partner of more than six years whom he knew too well. Semantics aside. This was someone who resembled him and acted like him, and seemingly nothing more.
“Nah, I came to terms with dying a while ago. I was supposed to when I took over leadership of the mafia, then it all went to shit because the government kept me alive against my will in an isolated cell.”
Chuuya swallowed hard and shifted his gaze to the wall behind his other self. He couldn’t fathom in what universe he’d just give up like that—couldn’t imagine admitting any of these things out loud even to himself.
“It’s my turn to ask you a question,” the other Chuuya said, turning his head almost mechanically, a distant, cloudy look in his eyes. “Are you afraid to die? I don’t have anything to lose, but it looks like you do. Maybe if I took it all away from you, then you’d actually understand, and we’d be the same.”
He lunged for Chuuya in the blink of an eye, slamming him against the wall with a hand around his neck, squeezing. “Fight me! Get angry! I can tell you hate what I’ve—what we’ve become. We wanted to prove that we were human so bad, and this is all part of being human, Chuuya. It’s ugly.”
A strangled gasp left Chuuya and he clawed at his other self’s wrist, aiming a kick in the stomach. The hand left his neck, and he fell to his knees, clutching his chest and fighting to breathe. His lungs burned fierce as he kept his head low, feeling a presence looming over him, calculating. Observing.
“Get up and fight me. You don’t give up. Or are you giving up because you don’t want to fight yourself? Is that where you draw the line?”
“No,” Chuuya muttered, lifting his chin to shoot them a glare. “It’s a waste of time fighting someone at their lowest. You’re barely living. But like hell I’ll let you destroy who I am or what I have.” He stumbled to his feet and kicked off the wall, tackling his other self to the ground.
They wrestled for control over one another, craters left in the hardwood from misplaced gravity manipulation. When Chuuya grabbed a hold of something familiar, like leather, he pulled, yanking off a choker and tossing it across the room. Red-faced, they stared at one another—the aftermath of their struggle ending in Chuuya on top and pinning his other self’s wrists to the ground with a bruising grip. It was the most fire he had seen in them the entire time, but just as quickly as fires burn out of control, they die.
And the aftermath of loud destruction is a quiet wasteland.
“You’re still me. Circumstances be damned. There’s always time to change things.” He sat on the other Chuuya’s legs and pulled him up into a sitting position—into his arms in a crushing hug that knocked their hat off. “I’m not fighting you in the way you expected. I won’t give you that satisfaction.”
The body in his embrace went rigid. He half-expected a punch at any moment and their fight to continue, until the other Chuuya trembled and he squeezed harder. It wasn’t a hug for a friend. It wasn’t supposed to be nice. If they couldn’t breathe, good. It was a hug of relief for still being alive, from someone who wouldn't let go even if it killed him.
Even if this Chuuya did not fear death, someone in this world wanted him alive.
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