Then stop talking and make sure your door is unlocked.
[She needs time to gather all of those things! Anyway, she has no idea what kind of alcohol to get Dazai, but helps herself to a cool-looking bottle with something brown in it, then a second bottle of something sparkly that's probably a wine? she guesses? for Chuuya. Then it's off to find somewhere where she can get some good food for him that won't be bad cold -- fruit and chocolate is a nice dessert, and sandwiches are easy to make with good ingredients. It'll have to do, anyway.
Her elbow knocks against the wood of the door as she jimmies it open and uses her butt to push it into the room. Her hands are full! The sandwiches and fruit and wine bottle go in the fridge for Chuuya, and the bottle of brown mystery liquid stays with her while she looks for Dazai.]
Hey. I hope you like this.
[To his eye, she'll look very, very fragile, even as she's keeping up the brave face that she's been presenting to everyone in town. That everything is fine and she's not worried about anything, and she doesn't feel guilty about it, unless they're angry at her, in which case she'll look any way that seems appropriate. The default is a smile that very nearly reaches her eyes.]
(dazai himself isn't looking too good. he's never been quite a fan of pain, and while he can disconnect from it enough, it's draining when he himself put on a brave face for the people who had stayed here receiving treatment, under the touch of his ability in case it was needed. he's depleted of most things, and quite frankly, he looks like absolute shit. he's been sleeping, resting, bleeding, and everything in between. a part of him should be glad - he's helped, he's saved, but he feels rather utterly alone. it's always been easier when the agency was behind him, when he had a mind as great as his own, rampo's, to think these things through. when he had a smile and undying optimism of a child in kenji's face, never discouraged. when atsushi needed dazai, and who, slowly, was meeting his expectations. kunikida screaming at him that he has to make his report, and the giggles dazai'd give when he had no prospects of writing them in the first place.
like this, it feels harder. how did oda--
either way. he sighs, a hand coming out of the blankets he is hiding underneath, thumbs up and all, weakly. depression unmotivated time, big time.)
[Dazai... her expression pinches a little at the sight of his hand reaching out, but she doesn't put the bottle in it. Instead, she reaches out with hers to unfold his fist and wrap his fingers around one of the sandwiches.]
Eat first. Drink after.
[She makes a guess as to where his head is under that pile of blankets and hesitates only a moment before gently patting the fabric.]
(it's nearly a grumble, and he doesn't even have energy to fight the change in the shape of his hand, he just squeezes a little - ah, it's bread. he doesn't want to deal with ants... pets... he should leave bed, at least a little. his legs stretch, although walking hurts from all the damage his feet took, that's what he'll try to do, until he gives up and just slides to the floor like a loser.)
[There we go. Floor time. She lets him flop his way out before folding her legs underneath her to sit next to him. Again, there's a beat of hesitation before she sets the bottle down beside him within easy reach and lets her hand come to rest on the top of his head.]
(he's much like a cat. he can't refuse the petting, it might as well be giving him the tiniest burst of energy - or at least enough for him to move his head around so she pets where he wants, slowly, with no rush.)
Thanks.
(for the food. for the alcohol. for having his back when he needed it.)
[It's... complicated, working out how she feels. Thanatos is quiet -- they're all quiet when she's petting Dazai, she realizes that now -- but even when she was finding food, everything was back to normal. The brand, now that she's looking for it, still hasn't quite faded on her back, but she feels more like herself. It's hard to think about how she turned against everyone, how Thanatos had rampaged against her will, but-- she'd helped Dazai, in the end. They'd helped each other, at least, she hopes that's what he thinks.
Gently, she coaxes him down so he can rest his head on her thigh for ease of pets. He can eat and drink when he's feeling up to it.]
(if he lies down, he'll never get back up, so he'll compromise by letting his head rest against her shoulder. it's closer, either way, and comfortable - her hand will scratch just where he likes it with this set up. there's a little yawn, and what she's asked is a very good question. dazai's honesty is not something he often exercises, but with how his brain currently cares about absolutely nothing, he finds it a useless exercise to lie to her.)
... There's empty, white noise and a million thoughts on my mind.
[She hums again, more softly this time, and gently scratches her fingernails against his scalp, right where he'd been guiding her hand. If he falls asleep there against her shoulder, that'll be fine. She can sit there for hours, if she has to.]
You were working really hard. Too bad you don't get paid for saving the world, huh?
[Maybe it wasn't the world in this case, but even still, the joke still hangs in the air like a bubble about to pop into a dozen different emotions as she keeps running her fingers through his hair.]
Ah, but money has never interested me. I used to live in a shipping container, even though I was filthy rich.
(perhaps that's a bit of the problem. what does motivate him? what brings him to this? even himself struggles to understand it, sometimes. like nothing fills the loneliness that sinks his heart deeper to hell.
speaking of,)
You don't have to fake that smile around me, by the way.
[About the smile, anyway. Her fingers still in his hair as she tries to remember what the right expression is to make right now. Brows pinching in a bit of thoughtful consternation, her face comes to rest for the moment as she resumes scratching.]
Why the shipping container?
[It's not the first time he's mentioned it; she'd have assumed he'd want something more comfortable, but considering his preferred hiding place was a literal hole in the ground, well-]
It would be hard for people to get to you, though.
[For someone who seems so affectionate, it sounds like hell. She shifts, just a little, so she can wrap her arm around him, resting her elbow on his shoulder and continuing to pet.]
I'd rather you stay within reach.
[Not necessarily of her, but of anyone. He can go on and on all he likes about how much Chuuya needs people, but it's pretty obvious -- so does Dazai.]
(don't think the narrowest chasm in the mountains here doesn't have a lamp, a book, and a few blankets. it's where he finds himself the most safe, after all, further and in darkness where he can sleep. either way, he clearly is melting with all the pets, much needed, thank you kotone.)
[She wrinkles her nose again. It still sounds like the worst place for someone like Dazai, but-- well, she's not Dazai. If it's something he wants, she isn't going to tell him not to.
But she doesn't answer his question immediately, just humming quietly to let him know that yes, she'd heard, no need to ask again. Let her organize her thoughts, please.]
I'm not hurt, [she says finally, gently detangling one of the knots in his hair.] I'll be... okay. Either people will trust me again, or they won't.
[That is kind of what it boils down to, huh? She can't make people trust her or rely on her. She'd already proven that she isn't trustworthy or reliable. All she can do is give up or keep trying.]
(blindness. much like atsushi. self-esteem so low that he could pick it up from the floor. part of him knows that this is no matter to discuss, it's not words that will snap her out of it. another part of him sighs, loudly, before he can say it.)
Koto-chan. None of this was due to you or lack of trust in you. I trusted you, without you and Gogol I wouldn't have made it to Chuuya, and he would have died because he can only contain Arahabaki so much. Is this not enough for you to see?
I'm not saying I caused it. But I attacked my friends. I hurt people.
[She could have killed them. She doesn't know if some of the people Thanatos had attacked had survived. Her expression pinches again as she resumes stroking his hair.]
[She lets him take her hand and do whatever he likes with it, spreading her fingers to make it easier. There's a faintly glowing ring on her right hand that hadn't been there before -- Ryoji had given it to her, months and months and months ago, right before the end. It's comforting to have it with her now, after what happened.]
A couple years ago, there was a situation that perhaps you can find yourself in. We worked on a case where ability users were committing suicide - but it was the work of another one. Yadda yadda, manipulation, yadda yadda, betrayal on my part real quick, but the important part is that he managed to separate people's abilities from them, too. Atsushi had to face the tiger he manages to become. Akutagawa had to face... Ah, Rashomon, which is the demon that forms from his clothes. I was... Not there, actually. In fact, I was dealing with the man himself, and Fyodor. However, I know those two like the back of my hand, and I know that it felt like battling themselves, and for Atsushi... That's his daily struggle. What I'm trying to say is, your own battle is not too different. You most likely see yourself as the perpetrator, however, you weren't. Your battle here is with yourself.
... You're very much like those two kiddos, in a way.
[Her voice is soft, fingers spread to make it easier for Dazai to hold however he likes. She's just watching without really seeing, lips thinning with more than a little distress.]
It felt good. Letting him do what he wanted. Trusting him to protect me. Thanatos... I didn't have him when I arrived here. I'd fused him to create Messiah. But he reawakened here to protect me. He was just... protecting me from the wrong people.
You need to separate what was you and what was not, however. This feeling of protection might be real, but it wasn't blooming from the right place, that was that thing that put the idea in your head, and thus, I suppose it was just trying to protect you from what that thing said was bad for you and it. If anything, I trust you more after all this, and that's not a particularly easy feat.
(it's not manipulation, at least. he means it, with all his heart, even if he's forgetting to play with her hand, his entire attention and effort into speaking first and foremost.)
[That catches her attention, and she glances up at him, lips slightly parted with surprise and confusion. If anything, she'd expect to be trusted less, not more.]
I know that you'll have my back, even when you're shaking. Besides, now I know two things. Personas are more powerful than I'd imagined, and 'No Longer Human' works on them. I can put you on missions if need be.
(if she trusts him, that is. that part, perhaps, is still a little shaky. his fault, really.)
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sorry to bother you but i'm crashing and even saying this is too much work i am definitely not getting out of this bed
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[She needs time to gather all of those things! Anyway, she has no idea what kind of alcohol to get Dazai, but helps herself to a cool-looking bottle with something brown in it, then a second bottle of something sparkly that's probably a wine? she guesses? for Chuuya. Then it's off to find somewhere where she can get some good food for him that won't be bad cold -- fruit and chocolate is a nice dessert, and sandwiches are easy to make with good ingredients. It'll have to do, anyway.
Her elbow knocks against the wood of the door as she jimmies it open and uses her butt to push it into the room. Her hands are full! The sandwiches and fruit and wine bottle go in the fridge for Chuuya, and the bottle of brown mystery liquid stays with her while she looks for Dazai.]
Hey. I hope you like this.
[To his eye, she'll look very, very fragile, even as she's keeping up the brave face that she's been presenting to everyone in town. That everything is fine and she's not worried about anything, and she doesn't feel guilty about it, unless they're angry at her, in which case she'll look any way that seems appropriate. The default is a smile that very nearly reaches her eyes.]
cw self harm mention
like this, it feels harder. how did oda--
either way. he sighs, a hand coming out of the blankets he is hiding underneath, thumbs up and all, weakly. depression unmotivated time, big time.)
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Eat first. Drink after.
[She makes a guess as to where his head is under that pile of blankets and hesitates only a moment before gently patting the fabric.]
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(it's nearly a grumble, and he doesn't even have energy to fight the change in the shape of his hand, he just squeezes a little - ah, it's bread. he doesn't want to deal with ants... pets... he should leave bed, at least a little. his legs stretch, although walking hurts from all the damage his feet took, that's what he'll try to do, until he gives up and just slides to the floor like a loser.)
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[There we go. Floor time. She lets him flop his way out before folding her legs underneath her to sit next to him. Again, there's a beat of hesitation before she sets the bottle down beside him within easy reach and lets her hand come to rest on the top of his head.]
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Thanks.
(for the food. for the alcohol. for having his back when he needed it.)
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[It's... complicated, working out how she feels. Thanatos is quiet -- they're all quiet when she's petting Dazai, she realizes that now -- but even when she was finding food, everything was back to normal. The brand, now that she's looking for it, still hasn't quite faded on her back, but she feels more like herself. It's hard to think about how she turned against everyone, how Thanatos had rampaged against her will, but-- she'd helped Dazai, in the end. They'd helped each other, at least, she hopes that's what he thinks.
Gently, she coaxes him down so he can rest his head on her thigh for ease of pets. He can eat and drink when he's feeling up to it.]
What're you thinking about?
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... There's empty, white noise and a million thoughts on my mind.
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You were working really hard. Too bad you don't get paid for saving the world, huh?
[Maybe it wasn't the world in this case, but even still, the joke still hangs in the air like a bubble about to pop into a dozen different emotions as she keeps running her fingers through his hair.]
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(perhaps that's a bit of the problem. what does motivate him? what brings him to this? even himself struggles to understand it, sometimes. like nothing fills the loneliness that sinks his heart deeper to hell.
speaking of,)
You don't have to fake that smile around me, by the way.
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[About the smile, anyway. Her fingers still in his hair as she tries to remember what the right expression is to make right now. Brows pinching in a bit of thoughtful consternation, her face comes to rest for the moment as she resumes scratching.]
Why the shipping container?
[It's not the first time he's mentioned it; she'd have assumed he'd want something more comfortable, but considering his preferred hiding place was a literal hole in the ground, well-]
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It was surrounded by toxic waste. Simple, unreachable, and honestly, I could live under a bridge. I need very little! It was a good home...
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[For someone who seems so affectionate, it sounds like hell. She shifts, just a little, so she can wrap her arm around him, resting her elbow on his shoulder and continuing to pet.]
I'd rather you stay within reach.
[Not necessarily of her, but of anyone. He can go on and on all he likes about how much Chuuya needs people, but it's pretty obvious -- so does Dazai.]
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(don't think the narrowest chasm in the mountains here doesn't have a lamp, a book, and a few blankets. it's where he finds himself the most safe, after all, further and in darkness where he can sleep. either way, he clearly is melting with all the pets, much needed, thank you kotone.)
How are you feeling?
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But she doesn't answer his question immediately, just humming quietly to let him know that yes, she'd heard, no need to ask again. Let her organize her thoughts, please.]
I'm not hurt, [she says finally, gently detangling one of the knots in his hair.] I'll be... okay. Either people will trust me again, or they won't.
[That is kind of what it boils down to, huh? She can't make people trust her or rely on her. She'd already proven that she isn't trustworthy or reliable. All she can do is give up or keep trying.]
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(blindness. much like atsushi. self-esteem so low that he could pick it up from the floor. part of him knows that this is no matter to discuss, it's not words that will snap her out of it. another part of him sighs, loudly, before he can say it.)
Koto-chan. None of this was due to you or lack of trust in you. I trusted you, without you and Gogol I wouldn't have made it to Chuuya, and he would have died because he can only contain Arahabaki so much. Is this not enough for you to see?
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I'm not saying I caused it. But I attacked my friends. I hurt people.
[She could have killed them. She doesn't know if some of the people Thanatos had attacked had survived. Her expression pinches again as she resumes stroking his hair.]
I don't expect everyone to just forget that.
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(his hand reaches for her own. she might notice the lazy grip, the way his thumbs play with her knuckles with no strength at all.)
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[She lets him take her hand and do whatever he likes with it, spreading her fingers to make it easier. There's a faintly glowing ring on her right hand that hadn't been there before -- Ryoji had given it to her, months and months and months ago, right before the end. It's comforting to have it with her now, after what happened.]
cw suicide mention
... You're very much like those two kiddos, in a way.
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[Her voice is soft, fingers spread to make it easier for Dazai to hold however he likes. She's just watching without really seeing, lips thinning with more than a little distress.]
It felt good. Letting him do what he wanted. Trusting him to protect me. Thanatos... I didn't have him when I arrived here. I'd fused him to create Messiah. But he reawakened here to protect me. He was just... protecting me from the wrong people.
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(it's not manipulation, at least. he means it, with all his heart, even if he's forgetting to play with her hand, his entire attention and effort into speaking first and foremost.)
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[That catches her attention, and she glances up at him, lips slightly parted with surprise and confusion. If anything, she'd expect to be trusted less, not more.]
How?
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(if she trusts him, that is. that part, perhaps, is still a little shaky. his fault, really.)
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