Dazai tested the clothe rope he had fashioned from the unused clothes in Chuuya's closet. It seemed comfortable, and the ceiling seems to bear weight just fine.

He probably needed to shorten the loop though. The low ceiling is too inconvenient, leaving him with only a few inches above the floor. He looked at the sleeping form on the bed. Curled up, the fiery haired figure seemed even smaller than usual.

How convenient would that be to commit suicide.

Chuuya would probably have a foot to spare, hanging from Dazai's current handiwork.

But for that matter, if he really were his partner, he could have just recited a few words and power would consume him, and he would die enjoying it.

In a way, it was quite ironic which abilities you ended up with. The one with the suicidal powers turns out to have the strongest will to live, and the suicide maniac ended up having to save him, when Dazai would not even like to save himself.

He smiled to himself, the dark smile accompanied by irises empty of light.

He finished correcting the length of the rope, and tested it again. As he was preparing to step off the little platform, though, something disrupted him.

"Go away." A voice whispered. The sheets shuffled as Chuuya turned, his brows were knitted together, a sheen of sweat glistening in the dim light.

Dazai sighed. This just has to happen every night. Every. Single. Night.

If you were to invite a guest in to stay overnight for every night possibly until you die, you could at least make sure you don't whisper out depressing nightmares in the middle of suicide attempts.

Dazai jumped down from the physic books he piled up to make a platform, heading for the window. He threw the panes open and the autumn chill started to settle into the room. Then he walked back to the doorway in the opposite direction, pulling his coat on to cope with the cold air.

Chuuya started awake, eyes red-rimmed, with dark circles as prominent as markers.

"Close the damn shutters, Dazai." He scowled, and Dazai ignored him, whistling a happy tune from his position sitting on the floor.

Chuuya sighed, then got out of bed and closed the windows himself anyway. As he brushed past the rope hanging from the ceiling it started to glow red, then the wooden shaft groaned and creaked. Finally it broke, and Chuuya simply said,

"It seems you don't have any shaft to hang from anymore. What a shame."

"Aw, don't act like you didn't just have a nightmare. Is it that embarrassing to admit? And I'd mercifully woke you just in time. You should at least bow and say thank you." Dazai said lightly.

The mafia eyed him, and with a tired sigh he dipped his chin, and mumbled a "Thanks."

The room fell into a kind of shocked silence.

"See, you never laugh at any of my jokes." Chuuya said darkly and went back to the bed, pulling up the covers. "And Dazai?"

"I requested a double bed for a reason. You want the entire facility gone?"

"Chuuya is a little cute when he's scared." Dazai taunted.

"I'm not scared!"

"You totally are ~~"

"Go die somewhere."

"Unfortunately the shaft is already broken," Dazai narrowed his eyes as he moved under the covers, "thanks to somebody."

"Gratitude not accepted."

"None intended."

"You just said thanks, you bandage wasting bastard."

"Ah, Chuuya is incapable of understanding simple context! How very tragic!"

"Just go to sleep already!"

"And why don't you shut your big mouth first~"


"Isn't there a question you want to ask?"

"What, no!"

"You want to know if I could use my ability through the bedding, like I did with the party ribbon when we sacked Arthur Rimbaud."


"Unfortunately I can't, that was a special occasion. You would need to hold my hand if you want all night protection."

Chuuya turned back to look at Dazai. Seeing his serious face, the former paled visibly. But fear could do a lot sometimes.

Chuuya slipped his ungloved hand from the covers, touching Dazai's upheld one.

"Ju~st kidding~~~" Dazai laughed, and laughed, and laughed.

Chuuya's face felt hot, and before another word could be spoken a fist found thin air where Dazai had been lying. The covers fluttered back onto the bed, where nobody lay any longer.


It was a rather destructive night, even without Arahabaki.