#suicidefrantic

How many night’s had it been now? Never before could he remember sleep being this hard to come to him. Sure, there were those old dreams that would sometimes play through his mind, guilt rushing through his dreams since it was so suppressed while awake. He wasn’t a good person and he wasn’t about to even try to convince himself that he was but that knowledge still wasn’t enough to make the pounding in his head vanish, to make the pain just fuck off into the void of the night and allow him to actually get some sleep. Sighing, he’d flicked on the bathroom light and stared at the tired reflection in the mirror, bed hair sticking up in all angles, heavy bags evident under his eyes, his face looking rather sickly compared to normal. What the heck was going on and how did he make it just stop? Maybe he’d ask Mori in the morning. Stripping down, he jumped into the shower, hoping that cleaning, again, may just help for his brain to kick into the fact that it was time to get some sleep. He’d fallen asleep at his desk more than once this week and the taste of coffee could not be improved no matter how much sugar he poured into a mug. He wasn’t usually like this and the fact that he was having such a mundane and annoying issue was pissing him off more than anything else. How did you stop this crap from affecting you? He’d walked into his room and pulled on a fresh pair of sweatpants when a spot of blood dripped onto his hand, eyes widening as a rather well known pain started to rip it’s way across the length of his body. Gasping in surprise, he stumbled into the bathroom, watching in horror at the red marking slowly appearing along the side of his face. Was this actually happening? It’d only went out of control like this once before and that - Wait how did he remember -

Time to worry about that later. The pain was becoming rather unbearable and his mind was screaming at him to give up the internal struggle of holding this side of his ability back, teeth clenched as he all but stumbled around the inside of his own apartment, trying to remember where the fuck he’d put his phone, eventually falling to his hands and knees as blood spilled from his lips, a scream of agony escaping from the back of his throat, the marks now slowly travelling along the length of his arms. Unable to locate the stupid phone he did the next best thing, screaming out his ex-partners name, a vibration near the sink hopefully meaning that the call had connected as darkness finally took over his mind.

Normally, the envious executive would be annoyed with the sudden fall of rain, and yet today, they weren’t that bothered by it. They looked down at their hand when Dazai laced his fingers through theirs, but they didn’t pull away as they normally would have. 

They rolled their eyes and chuckled as he pulled them through the rain, making them wonder why they couldn’t just go inside. 

“A show..??” they echoed with a soft giggle. A show, just for them~... It was almost romantic, minus the face that they were getting soaked. Masami looked out at the view, their chest seeming to tighten as a smile formed on their lips. It was gorgeous... They glanced back at Dazai, as if to say something, but they almost instantly forgot what they were going to say. 

Kira adored potions class. Of course, that wasn’t really saying much as she loved all of her classes... But the thought that different ingredients could be added together to produce something so magnificent was boggling to the mind. 

How strange it was that no one else in her class seemed to enjoy it or be as good at it as the young witch. Well... except for one boy, a Slytherin. She couldn’t quite remember his name, but she knew of him.

The class period had just ended with the potions teacher—Mori—giving out the exam grades from the previous time the class met. Most of the other students either failed or narrowly passed, but Kira and the Slytherin boy got the same grade—a perfect score. 

   The minute Dazai reached to poke at his chest, Chuuya brought his leg up between them to kick the other back and create some space between them. Chuuya would take any advantage he could in the situation at this point.

Did he just seriously say this? That she knew she could talk to him? Hands were clenched into a fist. When was there ever a time, when she could talk to him? Or did he try to irritate her? Right… Dazai always found things out he shouldn’t. So perhaps, he found out, that he looked like her childhood friend, and used it now to torment her more? To just show her one more time, that she could do nothing against him?

Miran swallowed hard, as she rung with herself. It was so hard, to not smack him. But she knew, that this would only end painful for her, yet never for him.

She couldn’t handle this all anymore. “ Stop playing nice. ”, she muttered, but didn’t fight against the hug. Knowing so well already, that no matter what she would do - it would only end badly for her anyway. She didn’t want this anymore… never in her life before, she had felt so useless, weak… so dumb. Lately, all she wanted, was to stay in bed. To sleep, and hope this all was just a bad dream. But it never turned out like this, instead she would always get waken up. Either by Dazai or her assistant, who would rush her out of the suite for work, while scolding that she wasn’t ready.

Of course he would say such a thing. That his actions didn’t matter. When he didn’t seem like the Shuji she knew at first, there definitely were some things that hadn’t changed at all in those three years - and due to this, there indeed were so many questions on her mind. Why did he vanish? Why had he been on the side of this scary looking man? Why was he so scary looking himself now and had a bandages eye? Was the man to blame on all this? Did he hurt him?

The child, quite troubled, sat down somewhere further away from him after they had entered the apartment, with her sleeping sister in her arms, she hadn’t let go ever since she left the hotel... if her parents would be about to find this out, how would they react? After all, she hadn't told anybody, before sneaking out in the death of the night. Unaware, of what dangers may could await - she was nothing but a child who never had left the hotel before after all. “ Da...zai. “, she spoke out his new name slowly again, trying to get somewhat used to this. Wondering, what would happen if his true name would slip out accidentally - but also found herself wanting to avoid it. Shuji was her best friend and she didn’t want to ruin this, “ So that doctor from earlier doesn’t know it neither? “.

       Grey eyes snapped open. A tired, uninterested gaze drew itself to the sky, watching the pale whites blend into bright blue, casting shadows upon his face through the airplane window. How long has it been? Stretching, Ray stood up and got off the plane, pulling out his phone to check his notifications. Nothing of importance stood out to him, the only thing that caught his eye being an update on who was picking him up from the gate. The gritting of his teeth caused them to bite down on his bottom lip, hating the fact that he needed an escort, but he sucked it up and tried to deal with it.

      You’re the head of the Kingsmen. The pride and joy of Illinois. You’re expected to play nice and then stab the Port Mafia in the back. Honestly, it was the playing nice part that bothered him, bile rising up in his throat the longer he thought about it. He hated this, hated having to be professional and friendly with people he could care less about. For a moment, he was tempted to just let loose and blow something up.

He was getting bored waiting for Dazai to wake up as a smirk appeared on his lips. The kidnapping was perfect, and no one would dare look for them since the underground cellar they were in was way underground. He managed to shackle his wrists to the wall inside his cell, and this time he made sure there was no way he would be escaping without the key which he had. His ex- partner pissed him off, and normally he knew what triggered him. It seemed Dazai knew what buttons to push to bring him on the brink of anger, and he was not going to be manipulated this time that was a fact. Perhaps maybe there is a chance that he would become his partner again and drop the damn tiger. He had already told the Mafia that he would be unavailable for a few days, and it was rough to get them to accept, but Chuuya always got what he wanted. Sitting on the chair across from Dazai, he actually took his partner in, and all he wanted was Dazai approval, but the bastard always found a way to push him including talking about his partner the stupid tiger that would soon die.

Getting annoyed and just for the hell of it, he got up moving over to the suicidal maniac reaching his hand back to smack Dazai hard enough to hopefully wake him up. "Hey, wake up princess.. I am getting bored here" Perhaps he just wanted to hit him for the hell of it wouldn't be the first time. They had a very interesting relationship that no one could understand, but them as he fixed his hat finding his seat once again. This time he was not going to let his partner manipulate him, he learned that from his last encounter. Oh no they had a lot to talk about, and it was going to be violent if Dazai decided to piss him off for his own enjoyment. His attire was of course his white button up shirt under his dark red vest, and a black choker in the style of a pet collar. He took his jacket placing it on the chair. The cell was bare with only a bed and a few other things for Dazai.