Don’t hug me and say ‘Run’!
Third Person (Omniscient [not Kim Dojka] and then changes to Limited {Dazai} and then {Chuuya}) POV:
“Good to see you've arrived.” A man says from behind his desk.
The two pre-teens who had just entered the room greeted him before taking their places on the soft, comfortable chairs. The taller one sits with his left side facing the wall, and the shorter one takes his place on his right side.
Mori sighs as he turns his chair around, placing his warm cup of cocoa onto his table, yes without a coaster. His dark, violet irises, hidden by their drooping lids, were a stark contrast to the man's pale skin, shadowed by the dark bags under his eyes. He looked as if his energy had been sucked dry.
“You’re going to Scotland,” Mori sighs.
~~
London was strange to say the least.
It wasn’t even the English that really bothered Dazai. Afterall, Mori had paid for all the education Chuuya and Dazai could have ever (not) wanted and more.
What bothered Dazai, was their bloody cockney accents, or whatever they were called. How were you meant to understand what they were saying when every vowel sounded the same? And half the letters weren’t even said?
Of course, Dazai being Dazai, still understands what the annoying Englishmen are saying, and all he got is that he wishes he had earplugs.
“Dazai stop glaring at everyone and tell me where we’re meant to be going.” Chuuya whispers to Dazai.
Dazai simply wrapps his hand around Chuuya’s wrist and pulls him to the side of the street.
…
And then keeps walking, ignoring Chuuya’s muttered complaints behind him.
When they finally stop, it's in front of an aged bar. The most peculiar thing about the bar, apart from the five different types of mould on the wood, is the sign which read ‘The Leaky Cauldron’ in faded, or rather fading golden letters.
The sign seems to vanish in and out of existence, almost as if deciding whether the two stood beneath it were allowed to see.
Dazai pushes open the door, finally letting go of Chuuya’s wrist.
“This is the place on the address Oyaji left us.” Dazai says, making his way to the bar, where a man with a developing hunch stands, wiping glasses as he chats with a customer.
Chuuya nods, and follows behind him, keeping to Dazai’s right side.
“We’d like a room for two,” Dazai says, smiling at the aging man.
“Of course, Hogwarts?” The man, ‘Tom’ his name tag reads, says.
Dazai replies in an almost nervous manner, “Yes, it’s our first year, we’re not very familiar with everything and our parents aren’t here either, do you know anyone who could help us?”
‘Tom’ nods, “Of course, if you’d like I can take you around.”
“Thank you!” Dazai says, bowing his head slightly.
Tom looks slightly confused at the bow but simply returns the gesture handing the keys for a room to Dazai.
Dazai thanks him again before making his way up the stairs, Chuuya on his tail.
“Not gonna say anything chibi?”
Chuuya scoffs, “What do I have to say to you moron.”
Dazai simply smiles as he pushes open the door to their new room.
“Ew.”
Dazai turns around and raises a brow at Chuuya. “What?”
“There’s only one bed.”
“Ew indeed, you can take the floor slug.”
“Shut the fu-”
“Excuse me young sirs, would you like anything to eat?” A man in his early twenties asks, rolling a trolley full of tea time snacks.
“We’re okay, thank you,” Dazai says, smiling politely before closing the door.
He lets out a long sigh before making his way over to the bed.
“Fudge.” He says as the bed groans under him. “How weak is the bed for it to buckle under my wei-”
Chuuya looks at him like he's crazy as he leaps off the bed and starts wiping himself like a madman.
“What happened to you smart-ass?”
“It’s wet,” Dazai says, his face showing the genuine emotion of disgust, “Wet and sticky.”
Chuuya looks equally repulsed and can’t help but back away.
“Go take a shower mackerel,” he says, looking on as Dazai, discards his coat on the floor and walks into the bathroom.
~
Dazai honestly doesn’t know if the bathroom is worse, it looks pretty small, but then again he’s used to living in a mansion…that’s owned by the mafia boss, so he probably doesn’t have the best comparison to make. Luckily it seems that there’s no bodily fluids left in this room so he lets his shoulders relax.
After taking a shower, Dazai can’t help but just stare at the mirror. It’s rather cracked, and looks mossy.
‘Everything in this place is a health hazard, do wizards not care about hygiene?’ He can’t help but think.
Even though the mirror’s cracked and gross he can still see his reflection perfectly in the mirror. Soft and fluffy brown hair, a dark brown eye, the other covered with bandages, deathly pale skin.
Looking at his ghastly appearance Dazai can only think that it’s better now. Much, much better. The darker than space eye bags, and sickly green veins are nowhere to be seen, and the bandages hide no real injury. He's gotten so much better in the last 4 years, it's crazy.
The bandages wrapped neatly around his body have no red spots- will never have red spots again- and it’s all because…well he doesn’t know exactly. But there's one major thing and he's thankful, because he no longer scares the little toddlers away, he doesn’t draw the lingering stares. Now people look at him and laugh cheerfully, reminiscing the youthful innocence and joy he portrays. They think he's just a kid playing around, and sometimes Dazai can’t help but think that's true.
There’s no more injury to hide, no scars left, nothing. Just a blank canvas of skin, a canvas he plans on leaving blank for the rest of his life.
(He doesn’t know of course that sometimes his plans don’t quite work)
Dazai smiles at the child in the mirror. And unintentionally at the other face staring back at him with a soft expression on his face.
He instantly drops the smile and turns around to face Chuuya.
“You wanna shower slug?”
“...Sure”
~~~
Chuuya doesn’t really know what to think. Dazai’s changed so much. He's become so much better. Chuuya no longer has to walk into a room and see Dazai’s cold smile and dead eyes. No longer has to think too hard about the blood splattered on his clothes. Because now he knows that blood isn’t Dazai’s. Not anymore. Now it just belongs to the poor unfortunate soul that happened to cross Dazai on a bad day.
He sighs, focusing on the water flowing down his body in cold streams.
It’s strange that he, a ten year old, has to think about these things. But honestly Chuuya can’t imagine not thinking about it. It’s his life now. Worrying about Dazai, making fun of Mori-san, working in the Mafia, training to be the next boss alongside Dazai.
It’s what he depends on now. He doesn’t want a normal life anymore. The thrill of this one is just too good. The constant adventure, the death, it brings something to his life that he had lost all those years ago to the experiments.
(rewrite coming soon)