𝐈𝐍𝐍𝐎𝐂𝐄𝐍𝐂𝐄 ￤O. Dazai

𝐈𝐍𝐍𝐎𝐂𝐄𝐍𝐂𝐄 | 15

Dazai sat beside her bed in silence, his eyes tracing every single photo on her bedroom wall. His eyebrows laced together, not really finding any of the pictures cute. The "family" photo doesn't look like a family in those photos.

If anything, most of the people look like there was a gun being held behind the camera, threatening to shoot if they don't smile. Others, though, didn't look like they cared whether there was a gun or not. Their faces betrayed any emotion that their eyes tried to convey.

"When she wakes up," Yosano's voice pulled him out of his thoughts. "Leave the room. She doesn't like it when people enter her bedroom."

Dazai watched as Yosano squeezed warm water off the cloth into the small tub on the bedside table and placed it on (Y/N)'s forehead and sighed, wiping her hands on her skirt. Then, she sat on the foot of the bed and looked at Dazai.

"So, let me get this straight. You guys convinced her into training Atsushi and being a personal teacher?" Yosano raised a brow.

Dazai nodded.

Yosano sighed. "How the fu-"

"-Don't ask me," Dazai cuts her off, already seeing the irk mark on her forehead. "I didn't force her. In fact, I went to their base to simply deliver the request."

"She didn't even tell me she was part of any organization," Yosano sighed. She looked over (Y/N).

"How did you two meet?" she asked, not looking at him.

"I jumped off a dock."

"You what?" Her head snapped towards him. She sighed and rubbed her forehead. "Why am I still surprised?" she whispered to herself.

"I didn't think she would jump in," he leaned back on the chair. "I didn't even know she was there."

"Of course you didn't."

"She was stupid."

"You both were."

"She was pretty."

Yosano raised a brow, "She'd kill you."

"That's the point."

One.
Two.
Three.
Four.
Five.

Five seconds passed and Yosano still could not find it in herself to be mad at the moment—even though she wanted to. Maybe if she waits a little longer she'll find it in herself to get angry. Angry at him for being suicidal, angry at (Y/N) for not telling her when she usually does. Angry at the state she's in now. Angry at that damn demon in her.

Angry that she doesn't know anything.

However, she knows (Y/N) has her reasons. She always does.

With a sigh, Yosano pushed herself off the bed. "I'll go run some errands–"

" –Don't leave."

"She won't kill you."

"Not yet."

Yosano pulled her coat off the chair by (Y/N)'s desk. She slipped into it, "Just don't wake her up."

And with that, she left.

Dazai sighed, crossing his arms over his chest as he leaned back on the chair, looking over (Y/N) as she slept.

His eyes eventually flew back to the pictures on her walls. Why does she keep them there? If she was awake, he'd ask her. But she probably won't answer.

. . . .

He didn't know when or how he fell asleep. 

The next thing he knew, a pillow slammed on his face, almost knocking him over.

"You're a heavy sleeper."

Dazai looked up, holding the pillow close to his chest. He smiled at her.

"Good morning, princess."

"It's 7:30pm."

"Pardon? I'm deaf to logic."

"It's not logic. It's a fact, idiot."

"I know that."

"Sure you do." 

She knows damn well how his brain works. And calling him 'dumb' would not be the best way to describe him.

Suicidal maniac, probably.

Definitely.

"Yosano came by, didn't she?" (Y/N) asked, sitting up.

"Yeah," Dazai said, standing up from the chair and putting his hand on her back and arm to help her steady herself. "That was some real badass show a while ago."

He took the damp cloth on her forehead, squeezed the water out and replaced it with a warmer towel.

"You don't have to do that."

"You're sick."

"No, I'm not."

"Yes, you are."

She opened her mouth to say something, but Dazai was quick to beat her to it.

"That's why you called me to stay on stand-by," Dazai said as he pulled his chair closer to her bed before sitting down. "You needed someone to turn off that ability."

"I can control my abilities pretty well," she huffed.

"But that wasn't yours," Dazai propped his arms on her bed and leaned his head on his palm. "You're not telling me something here, princess."

"You don't have to know," she sighed. "It's none of your business."

"It is now," it was his turn to sigh. "Tell me, who's Keogari?"

(Y/N) shook her head, telling him that she didn't want to talk about it. Dazai nodded, deciding to talk about that topic some other time.

Diverting the attention, he pointed at the photos on her wall. "What's with that?" he asked. "No one seems to like being there."

"They don't."

"Why?"

"Why do you want to know?"

"I'm curious," he said with an innocent blink. She raised a brow, not buying it. And yet for some reason, she feels too comfortable to talk about it. It's like her body and mind mushed into a pile of slime, flowing through gaps of rocks, freely, smoothly.

She feels... relaxed. At peace. It scares her.

"I don't see you there," He pointed out.

(Y/N) looked at the photos, "Because I wasn't there."

"When they took the photo?" He raised a brow, looking at her.

(Y/N) nodded.

"Why?"

"They were afraid."

"Of you?"

She nodded again.

"Why?"

(Y/N) chuckled. "I wasn't there when they took the photo because I was locked out somewhere in the slaughterhouse. I didn't know there was a family photoshoot. I only knew about it a week after."

"Why did they lock you up?" Dazai, at this point, had his head on the bed, looking at her with his arms below his head.

"Because–"

" –they were afraid."

"Bingo."

"That you'd turn into... something you're not?"

(Y/N) shook her head, chuckling ever so lightly. "No. They were afraid because I already am that something."