Chapter Text
It was like time had frozen.
The two men stared at each other in mute silence, neither wanting to or knowing how to break it. Chuuya's eyes had gone blank, and a sea storm was raging inside their depths. Had he done this to him? Was one childish promise enough to turn someone into a delusional psycho? Was it some sort of karma? His eyes locked on the toy again, and a deep feeling of resentment now settled heavily in his heart that overrode whatever positive memories lingered. If he had never made that stupid promise, things would have been different now. Fyodor wouldn't have taken him captive or hurt him the way he had last night... Or perhaps he would. Something in his gut told him if Fyodor didn't remember him the way that he did, he would have joined the corpses of Alexander and Yuuto. Of course, it would have been nice to assume that Fyodor would have been a knight in shining armour and taken him to the police instead. Chuuya's heart rate picked up, and he struggled to mask the look of hope that glowed within him. Right, the police! He had made a call to his sister and given Dazai's name! Surely, that should be a good head-start for them to find some leads? They would file him as a missing person and find the footage of the security cameras in the movie theatre. Then question Tachihara and hopefully, hopefully, he would keep his promise and tell them where to find Dazai's mansion. Maybe some witnesses from the village would also remember him and tell the officers where the car was headed and...
"The police won't find you here. There are no leads for them to link this place with the cabin." The statement tied an anchor to his hope and drowned it. "There must be something left behind. No crime is perfect." The emotion in his voice betrayed him and Fyodor smiled knowingly. "They'll be too busy with other things to notice anything- if there is even anything left behind." Other things? What other things? Fyodor's smile turned cryptic and Chuuya got the feeling that he knew exactly what he wanted to ask and would give him no answer even if he did ask. Unease and anger settled in his gut faster than lightning strike and his gaze wavered; he looked down at his clenched fist, the urge to punch Fyodor in the face was almost too much, but he was wise enough to hold back. There was no telling how Fyodor would react, and frankly, he didn't want to find out.
"Still... My sister won't stop looking for me," Chuuya said with conviction. "She'll find me for sure." This he believed in, police aside, he knew Kouyou loved him too much to ever stop searching, and he did too. He would tear the world apart if something ever happened to her. A misplaced mirth was suddenly on Fyodor's face that put him off. What was so funny?
"Ah, right. Your sister." The word sister was said in a tone that was a mixture of disdain, humour, and something much darker. "I nearly forgot about her." Quick to jump to conclusions, Chuuya was upon him, heart rabbiting in fear as he grabbed his collar and yanked him closer.
"Have you done something to her? Is that why she didn't pick up her phone?! Tell me!" Fyodor looked back calmly and Chuuya trembled as all sorts of thoughts crossed his mind. Suddenly, he feared for the worst.
"Tell me!" He repeated but the sound came out as a hoarse and broken cry.
"I haven't." Chuuya had a hard time believing him, all the times he had recently put his faith in others only to be betrayed flashed like a comic film. Laughable, stupid faith. He didn't want to make another repetition of his past choices if he could avoid it. A frown made its appearance, as he struggled to gouge out any signs hinting that Fyodor was lying, yet, the longer he stared into those pools of magenta, the less he found any mischief or malice. While Chuuya didn't want to trust his word, the option of his sister being dead was something he didn't want to consider at the moment. Fuck, he didn't want to consider it at all; it would certainly be his breaking point.
"I, I want to talk to her then. I need to make sure she's okay." Fully expecting a rejection, he was stunned silent when the other nodded, and was still on the same spot when Fyodor returned with a burner phone, similar to those you see in crime movies. Smart choice. Chuuya didn't know why he was expecting it to be a normal phone, and he felt even stupider for even considering it in the first place. Tentatively, and still half in a daze, he grabbed for the device only to have it moved further away. Stress compelled him to reach for it again and he did. Again, Fyodor moved it out of reach. What the hell? Was he just playing with him? If he never intended to hand the bloody device over why bother to bring it in the first place?!
"Give me the phone...please," he hissed between gritted teeth and Fyodor relented.
"Before you call her there's something you should know about this 'sister' of yours, Chuuya." Chuuya paused mid-dial to look up at him. He really, really, really, didn't want to know whatever information Fyodor supposedly knew about his sister. Based on his expression alone, Fyodor wasn't planning on telling him something along the lines of: "you have such an amazing sister, it makes me sort of jealous" or "your sister is married to my father"- which, by the way, would be more horrifying and disturbing.
"What is it?" Chuuya's tongue felt heavy in his mouth, as if it had a mind of its own and refused to provoke more unwanted information.
"Kouyou," Fyodor began and Chuuya's eyes widened in alarm at the mention of her name- just how much did he know about him?! The man paused to clear his throat, while a peculiar look akin to pity, flashed in his expression before he continued, softly but firmly at the same time. "She is not who you think she is. She's been lying to you all along." Bullshit.
"The fuck are you talking about?" Chuuya raised an eyebrow, doubt written all over his face.
"Your dear 'sister' has been with the Mafia all along. The same Mafia that sold you like livestock and the one that Dazai works with."
"That's not true." Fyodor smiled, now cold and calculating.
"Why would I lie about that? I have nothing to gain from it." Chuuya began to tremble. Rage was boiling in his gut, growing hotter and hotter by the minute the more that bastard spewed crap about his sister. Was he really thinking he would ever believe him, a stranger, a murderer, than what his own knowledge and memories told him? No fucking way in hell. Kouyou was his sister, she had raised him so carefully – had him practically bubble wrapped his entire life! -and was even worried sick about him leaving the house to go to the city to the point that she called at least two times a day. Plus, she wasn't able to even harm a fly, how could she ever be with something as dark and bleak as the Mafia of all things?
"Stop. Just stop talking bullshit already," Chuuya finally growled, clenching the phone so hard he felt it crack underneath his fingers. "I've had enough lies to last me for the week." Something shifted in Fyodor's demeanor again and his expression darkened, heavy with threat, but Chuuya's own anger was too strong to leave any room for fear. He'd had enough.
"Denial is only the first stage of acceptance." Fyodor mumbled, backing away toward the drawer where he had previously retrieved the toy car. He fumbled with something for a moment and when he turned around he held a yellow folder in his hand. Opening it, he took out a rather thick stack of papers and, after flipping it around to make sure it was the right one, he turned to the last page. "Here, read it for yourself. Hopefully that will convince you." Chuuya tore the bundle from him and hastily opened it, ready to dispel whatever information was inside.
Yet as he read on, the more it seemed to fit together, like the missing puzzle pieces falling into place.
"No." Suddenly, he wanted the walls to cave in and crush him. Tears welled, denial battled the betrayal and hurt. Why? Why would they do this to him? Chuuya shook his head a horrified fraction of an inch, unable to comprehend what he was reading. "Go on," Fyodor encouraged, cruelly moving the paper even closer as though to help Chuuya soak the information better. "Read it out loud."
Chuuya's voice wavered as he read the final paragraph:
"On this date, the eighteenth day, of the twelfth month, of the year 19YY, we hereby convene to settle the agreement between Ozaki Kouyou and Mori Ougai. For actions committed by Fuku and Kensuke Nakahara and their entourage of well to do associate, Ozaki Kouyou, she stands judged and waiting. Her life is determined by the grace of Ougai Mori who states the following comeuppance: Following the unfortunate passing of Fuku and Kensuke Nakahara, the remaining liable Ozaki Kouyou, having refused to take further responsibility of her actions, is to present to him their child on the same day, of the same month of the year 20YY. Should the contract not be fulfilled, her actions will be considered a betrayal toward the organization and a proper punishment shall be received. The condition of the child should not be any less than that of an average Japanese citizen, whereas it is crucial the child receives proper education. No further requirements will be asked of Ozaki Kouyou after the contract is fulfilled, and she shall be free of further involvements with the organization as requested." The page ended with presumably Mori and Kouyou's signature.
Fyodor gently pried the now wrinkled papers from Chuuya's trembling hands without a word and tucked them back inside the folder. Then, he took out another much thinner stack of papers –photos- and handed them over. The images were blurry in Chuuya's eyes, and he had to blink several times in order to clear away the stray tears to properly look at them. When he did, an overbearing urge to vomit surged; the images were of Kouyou, smiling, with that evil man who had nearly raped him that night. Some looked old but others were more recent, he could tell by the choice of clothes his sister wore as she had started to prefer longer dresses the older she got and styled her hair in a high bun instead of a ponytail. In one particular photo he was with her as well; it was the day they had gone to Yokohama to look for an apartment for him and the man was with them as well. Chuuya felt entirely numb that moment, in body and soul, all was empty of feel. The cruel irony could not be missed; the monster had always been there, watching, waiting for the opportune moment to strike, and strike it did.
"Why are you showing me all this?" The question was asked in a steady voice, which made Fyodor's eyes widen a fraction; it was the only indication of surprise at the way Chuuya was dealing with the news. After another bout of silence Fyodor spoke; "Things aren't always what they appear to be and people whom you think are close to you really aren't. Open your eyes, Chuuya, and judge for yourself who you can consider a foe or an ally. If you decide to do nothing to those who have wronged you then so be it, but if you choose to punish them, then I can help you with it. Either way the decision is yours to make." Chuuya considered his words for a moment.
"And why would you do that for me? You said you have nothing to gain earlier." Fyodor shrugged at this, and Chuuya expected him to elaborate further, but he didn't. It frustrated him that he couldn't read the thoughts behind those magenta eyes, curiosity was eating him up but also worry; Fyodor was an extremely intelligent individual and his gut told him he was no altruist. Though, again, his gut had a very shitty judgement based on his previous history so he couldn't trust that either. Fuck, he felt so lost. Despair, sorrow, anger soaked through his soul like poisonous honey; he wanted to kill those who hurt him, betrayed him, used him, he really did, though at the same time he wanted to disappear and die because at least then he could finally find some peace.
"You don't have to give an answer right away. Take your time as your wounds heal to think it through." The word 'wounds' had a double meaning; Fyodor wasn't only referring to his physical wounds but the mental ones as well. Chuuya didn't look up at him or acknowledge his words, instead, he dialed Kouyou's number. Biting his lip, he pressed his ear hard against the device, listening intently for the moment her voice would come through the receiver. Hi, you've reached Ozaki Kouyou- beep. Again. He would call again. She's bound to answer if he calls her enough times! The device beeped, indicating it was low on battery, when Chuuya redialed the number. Hi, you've reached- beep. No, no, no. One last time, he would call one last time. Please, please let her pick up, he prayed silently, and knew that if she didn't pick up this time the thread keeping his composure would break. No, actually, he would break.
The ringing stopped.
"...Hello?" Kouyou's soft voice said and Chuuya's heart galloped a thousand miles a second; she picked up! "Who is this?"
"Ane-san it's, it's me." There was silence on the other end of the line, which unnerved him. Surely, his sister would be happy to hear from him after so long, right? "Ane-san?"
"Chuuya." Her voice sounded hardened, almost... worried that it was him calling her and not someone else. It made his heart clench painfully since she had never used that tone with him before. "How did you reach me?"
"Aren't you happy I was able to reach you after almost a month of no contact?" It was more of a statement than a question. Kouyou sighed on the other side of the line. Of course she isn't happy idiot, she wanted to get rid of you. Stop clowning yourself before you regret it, the voice in his head warned but Chuuya ignored it because some part of him wanted to deny that his sister would trade him like cattle. Less than cattle, the voice interjected, even that is treated better than you were.
"You know the answer to that, young lad. Answer my question now please."
"I was given a phone because I wanted to talk to you." Laughter broke his sentence. "You were the only person on my mind- the sole fucking reason I fought to get free. You, who sold me to save your ass! Isn't it funny?" Stop, stop talking! "I wanted so badly to believe in your innocence, hell, part of me still denies it, but it's all clear now. You must have had quite the laugh when that bastard told you I was sold, right? Right?!"
"Actually, don't answer that," Chuuya interrupted her before she even had the chance to speak. "I don't think I want to hear it now."
"Young lad, you have every right to be angry with me. I was thinking selfishly in the past I admit it, but..." Kouyou trailed off, and it was evident she was debating on whether she should let him know something or not. "An agreement is an agreement and must be fulfilled at all cost." The agreement? Ha! That was all she cared about even now? To be good to someone like that... that absolute trash of a person? And she didn't even have the balls to tell him the truth. Chuuya was trembling, angry tears streamed down his flushed cheeks which he quickly brushed off.
"What aren't you telling me again? For fuck's sake tell me one truth for once in your damn life, can't you?" The device buzzed in his hand to let him know it was going to turn off soon. There was rustling on the other side and Chuuya pictured his 'sister' shaking her head. His thoughts were confirmed when she voiced her answer in a pathetically pitiful tone; I can't tell you, I'm sorry. She was sorry! She ruined his life and all she had to say was a half-assed, half-baked sorry? Why did everyone think that a sorry would fix a broken vase when it clearly did nothing of the sort? In that moment Chuuya wanted to wring her neck, and the violent burst startled him so much when he realized he was acting as volatile as the man standing quietly in front of him. Only that instead of a moon-struck lover and a cold-blooded murderer, he was switching back and forth between wrathful rage and despair. Somehow he had entirely forgotten about Fyodor being there, silently observing him as though he was a keen specimen of his work, the entire time he was on the phone and for some unexplainable reason he felt embarrassment crawl its way up to his ears.
"I'm going to hang up now Ane-san. I sincerely hope you burn in hell for what you've done." Chuuya said that, but he didn't mean it, not really, because he couldn't just wipe away all the love he felt for her just like that. It tore him apart that she probably never saw him as her brother, that for her, he was simply a means to an end and nothing more. "I'm so sorry Chuuya," she wept again before the call was terminated and the device turned off. Chuuya breathed out a shaky sigh. That would probably be the last time he would ever talk to her again; he wasn't so sure Fyodor would grant him another chance and that would probably be for the best. Already, he wanted to call her back, to crawl into her warm embrace and wail uncontrollably like a child, to ignore everything that she had caused to happen and just simply be her younger brother again, a naïve farm boy with ludicrous dreams of living in the big city and nothing more. But he couldn't turn back now, it was too late.
Chuuya hesitated to hand the dead device back to Fyodor. It felt awkward being around him now as, bizarrely, a strange form of kinship lurked in the air, like their spirits had united somehow into a single, hideous being which longed for revenge. Though he wanted desperately to deny it, he wanted everyone to pay for what he had to go through, and unknowingly, he was playing right into Fyodor's hands.
"How did you find out about the contract?" Chuuya asked finally mustering the courage to look at the man in the eye.
"You're dealing with the information rather well, Chuuya. I'm impressed," Fyodor praised, and his tone suggested he meant it. "I have my own means of obtaining information. Since my interest in you has been running for a long time, I've come to learn a lot of things about you and your past." His face was light, devoid of the shadows it possessed, and it encouraged Chuuya to ask another pressing question. "Who took those photos?" At this, the dark haired smiled.
"Who do you think it was?" Chuuya's face scrunched in thought. "Is it someone I know?" Fyodor didn't reply, but the smile on his face remained, so he took that as a yes.
"Is it a friend?" Fyodor hummed. "More of an acquaintance I'd say." That geared his mind into overdrive; it had to be someone from college then. Someone close enough to him to be in his intermediate friend group, but not too close to become biased in the information they wanted from him. For some reason Tachihara flashed as a liable suggestion, but he quickly ruled out the option; Tachihara had betrayed him but he was sure that guilt he felt that night was real and he was only working for the Mafia out of some strange form of debt or whatever. He wasn't smart enough to be a double agent for Fyodor, as he would sooner be found dead than finish a mission. Then his mind drifted to Gin. He remembered that she was close to Tachihara and talked to him often, however she tended to be silent whenever he interrupted their conversation. It seemed to click in his head when he recalled that she had been the last person Tachihara had spoken to before they went to the cinema and that phone call he had made in the park must have been her. Chuuya burst out in laughter. Holy fuck, Fyodor was right again. Everything was connected some way or another.
"It's Gin, isn't it?" Fyodor startled him when he caressed his swollen cheek with the back of his knuckles, and he stopped laughing. "That's right," he said with a nod. A blush began to creep to Chuuya's cheeks the longer the hand remained there, and he gulped down the weird emotion that swept over him, because whatever it was, it couldn't be anything good. Anything he felt now was something he shouldn't take into account; he was in a vulnerable state of mind (and body) and he wasn't thinking clearly. He needed rest. No longer did he want to deal with the world, with demons and monsters hiding in plain sight, parading as friends and family. Truly, a nice, long rest sounded heavenly. But would Fyodor let him catch a break?
"I want to be left alone. I... I need some time to process all this," he mumbled a bit too quietly for Fyodor to catch what he said. "What?" The question made him jump, and he was quick to think that he had said something wrong again and pissed him off, but when he turned to look to the other's still calm face, he relaxed. "I would like to be left alone... if you don't mind. I need some rest." Best to be polite than come off as brash or rude to someone capable of murder in cold blood, right?
"Do you no longer wish for my company?" Wrong. That was a trick question for sure; if he said yes directly something bad would happen, but if he said no then he wouldn't be able to mourn the broken pieces of his self properly. "It's not that I don't want your company. It's just that..." I want to sleep forever and never wake up again. "It's just that the painkillers are making me weary and the call drained all my energy." The invisible tension disintegrated as Fyodor took a step back.
"Then I shall leave you to rest." Chuuya breathed in a ragged breath when the door finally clicked shut. At last, he was alone, but now he was alone in every sense of the word. He had nearly called out Fyodor's name to ask him to come back when he was still by the door, desperate to seek more comfort in his arms as he had done earlier, but he had to remind himself over and over that even that man was not his friend and was definitely not there to help him.
Chuuya turned to the window again. The sun had hidden behind some dark rain clouds which to him it appeared to fight to get through them; it was no use of course as rain soon came pelting down the dull grass below, soaking everything in its path. As time went on indefinitely, the rain didn't seem to want to let up. Tears were absent in his vacant eyes; the rain had stolen them from him, along with everything else that had been in his heart.
Both his parents were somehow involved with the Mafia, with that man, and so was Kouyou. Flowers are beautiful yet delicate and fragile things, wouldn't you agree? The man's voice came back to haunt him once more. They are grown with care in equilibriums and the most beautiful amongst them are picked out and sold for a profit. This phrase was something which had stuck with him and had appeared in his nightmares a lot, though at the time he had been too scared, too stupid, to process the words or the meaning behind them. The paper he had found in Dazai's office was also right; biologically he had no family left since Kouyou wasn't really his sister and his parents were dead. Kouyou had told him long ago about them being gone so the news weren't really difficult to digest as he had never got to know them or love them the way he had loved her. Though, their involvement with the Mafia was something that concerned him. To what extend were they involved and what was their relationship with Kouyou? Why was she the one to take care of him after their death? Chuuya felt stupid for not asking any of those questions to her before, but he had been too hurt and too angry to actually think beyond that. He could always ask Fyodor, though he had an inkling that he might not want to share more than what he had just told him. No, if he wanted any more information he had to find it out for himself, how he would achieve that was something he still had to work on.
Unable to think of a plan, or rather unwilling to do so, he laid back on the pillow, carefully, so that he wouldn't further aggravate the wounds on his broken body. Broken body, broken spirit. His good hand slithered to his neck, covering previous imprints from Fyodor's previous abuse, to caress them. Was anything he knew real? Genuine?... Was he real? Beneath his fingertips he could feel the slow pulsing of his heart, reminding him of his very much alive status. Thump, thump, thump, thump- it went, and the slow, almost sluggish beat was calling to him, magnetizing, and drawing him closer. It spoke of solace, of peace and serenity into his mind should he merge with it.
All your problems will vanish, everything will be okay again, it promised. You can be free. Chuuya obliged, letting his fingers clench around the pulse.
Thump, thump, thump, thump. That's right, Chuuya, you can do it. He began to claw at his throat, drawing blood, then, squeezed harder, choking, and gasping for breath. The agony was familiar, comforting even, as it echoed the ache in his chest.
Thump, thump, thump, thump. Thump, thump, thump, thump. Yes! Yes, go on! You're so close. So close, so close, so close. The beat was chanting now, and it grew louder and louder by the minute, overshadowing his intense wheezing and the tears leaking from his eyes. It nulled his reason, tainted his soul.
Thump, thump, thump, thump. Each beat sliced through the fragile remnants of his sanity, it pounded the nails to a coffin of a life he never wanted. It wasn't just a heart's rhythm anymore, no, it was a relentless reminder of his wretched existence. He had nothing left, no one to turn to, or be loved by, but that was fine with him. A delirious smile broke into his face. That's right! He was of no use to anyone, no one at all, so why was he still hesitating? The blissful numbness was so, so close yet he still couldn't reach it, why?!
Dazai's disappointed expression came to his mind just as the corners of his vision were beginning to fade. You're pathetic, he said and his body trembled in horror and regret. No! He wasn't pathetic, he wasn't! You're giving up before you've even tried, isn't that pathetic? The grip on his neck was released in shock and Chuuya spattered as he struggled to regain his breath.
Clarity came crushing down like a bucket of cold ice; he had just tried to kill himself, fuck. Had he gone out of his bloody mind? Yes. If Dazai was the last person he thought of on the brink of death, he was certain he really was out of his mind. Chuuya bit the flesh around his nails anxiously. But why would he think of him now? Why him of all people? Skin tore, the metallic taste of his own blood spilled on his tongue. There was no way he had any feelings for him, right?
No, no he couldn't have. As much as Dazai was nice to him throughout his stay, he couldn't hide the darkness inside; that time in the playroom was evidence of the cruelty he possessed. Was this a case of Stockholm's syndrome then? Chuuya laughed, shutting his eyes when a new wave of tears rushed. He had vehemently denied it before but now it seemed very possible. Fucking terrific. He would much rather die than have false romantic feelings for a monster like Dazai; yes, a monster! Dazai had never saved him, never offered the freedom Chuuya longed for. He only sought to satisfy his own damn guilty conscience and needs and Chuuya wanted nothing to do with it, with Fyodor and his obscure motives or with this stupid contract! He just wanted a nice, normal life. Why couldn't he even have that?
Chuuya screamed. He was losing his damn mind. Ha! And whose fault is that? The voice, Dazai's voice, asked, and in his head, he could picture him smirking down with amusement. Everyone's, it's everyone's fault. Oh~ And what are you going to do about that?
"I'm gonna make them pay."
*