A plan that no one will like
Dazai’s arm started to go numb from leaning on it, and his eyes started to get heavy, Lockhart had settled down for a bit and chose to give them a random test. It was of course about the professor and not about anything worth learning so Dazai wasted no time in casting the paper aside.
He closed his eyes and listened to the sound of every student’s quills scratching at the paper it was a slightly soothing sound and only helped him in falling asleep. He could feel the dull ache of his arm, but ignored it because he was far too tired to care. He was also far too tired to care that he had sworn to himself he wouldn’t sleep again, but he wonders if having people around him while he naps will help fend off nightmares.
Even when his eyes were closed, and he tried to rest. He could still see Mori engraved into his eyelids, his ugly smile, his eyes staring down at him.
It creeped him out, and he let put a quiet annoyed sigh and considered banging his head against the desk a few times to jostle his brain and maybe forget the man he was forced to call his father at the moment.
Or maybe cut the man out of his memories, if he lost enough blood maybe he would forget how the man had tainted him, ruined him, made him hurt but made him need it.
How cruel a man Mori was, he could be a perfect villain in a book, everyone would hate him, everyone does hate him; just not openly to the mans face.
His arm slipped slightly on his sleeve and his head fell, causing his eyes to snap open. Nothing changed, still the same room in Hogwarts, still the same stupid kids(except Blaise but he would never say that.) same stupid blonde arrogant teacher.
Everything was the same, same, same, same. Everything was fine.
He exhaled quietly.
God he needed to get a hold of himself, his brain and whatever willed him to start thinking about Mori, if Dazai had to tear his eyelids away from his eyes he would do it; just to erase a little bit of the man from him.
Dazai picked at the wood of the desk, the small pieces he broke off digging into the pads of his fingers and stinging pleasantly.
Maybe they would get infected and he would have to chop his hands off, would that be enough blood loss for him to die? Or would slitting his wrists just be easier?
Someone should test that out, a little science experiment, and then tell him, he’d love to know…though chopping off you own hands sounded quite painful, and now he’s not so sure he would like to do that.
Maybe don’t try that out, he’ll stick with slitting his wrists, it was way less painful and he had grown basically immune and liked the sting that it brought.
Thinking about suicide was a wonderful way to pass time when sitting in a boring classroom with a stupid boring teacher and kids that didn’t bring any excitement at all to the table(again, except Blaise)
He now traced lines into the wood with his fingers, he considered picking up a quill and doodling on the test paper, his art skills weren’t great but he was pretty sure he could draw up the perfect suicide with the amount of time they had left in class.
That’s what he’ll do, and then he’ll memorize it and rips the paper to shreds, not like if anyone found it they would care(EXCEPT BLAISE) he was such a master planner, Mori should give him a raise.
Though he does already get paid a lot, and ew Mori, he needed to rid his thoughts of that man quickly, he picked up his quill and started to doodle suicide methods.
_____
“..perfect..” he practically breathed out in amazement. He did it, it was perfect, it sent shivers down his spine.
He should be praised right now, put on a throne and be bowed to, maybe he was exaggerating slightly; but it was still an amazing plan, and he just couldn’t wait to put it to the test.
The only question was when, nothing else, no “what if I regret it?” He wouldn’t regret it, the only thing he would regret is not doing it sooner?
Have you seen the way people looked at him? How people judged him for everything? How he’s been used over and over again, just waiting for the day he could be cast aside?
Dazai needed this, it was what he needed from the start, he didn’t need shallow cuts; he didn’t need Hello Kitty band-aids, he didn’t need comfort. He just needed to die.
And he could finally give himself the pleasure of it, the pleasure he’s been dreaming of, been waiting for since the beginning.
He chuckles under his breath in a hushed tone. It was really stupid how people thought that he could actually live! It was preposterous, surely they must jest.
Dazai doesn’t want to be found, he wants people to search, to follow the little trail of bread crumbs, to find the pot of gold at the end of the rainbow at their own pace: Extremely slow.
He wants his corpse to rot, his body to cave in on itself, let his ribs stick out, his eye turn to dust and let the full socket be shown. His bandages to deteriorate and only hint at what they used to hide, what used to linger on his skin but can no longer be seen due to discoloration.
He wants to be unidentified honestly, let no one know that it’s him. Leave no signs, let people think that this body he occupies is just another one of his victims, because in a way it is.
This body was a victim of his harm, of a knife or blade way too sharp but just sharp enough.
A knife carved out of words, out of silly promises and the wrongs of others.
Would he make a note? What would it say? Oh he’s so excited, he’s practically bouncing in his seat. Would he fuck Mori over? Would he apologize? nah of course he wouldn’t.
The only downside to his plan of dying at Hogwarts is that there was the possibility that he could somehow someway become a ghost, then he wouldn’t really be dead, and that would be terrible.
But it wasn’t terrible enough to stop him from going through with his plan, nothing was going to stop him, he was going to get what he wants.
____
All classes went by in a blur, because there wasn’t anything to remember. He didn’t bother anyone during potions and actually sat back and worked. A huge red flag to anyone who paid enough attention to him, or cared enough to realize he was off.
No one questioned him at dinner when he ate little amounts of food that Blaise pushed onto his plate. No one questioned him after that either. It was perfect really.
He practically skipped down the halls, everything felt so unreal, so beautiful. It was like the halls were glowing and everything was shiny.
He felt wonderful, even though he hadn’t even done anything yet!
Finding the Infirmary was actually quite easy, take that Blaise, the hard part was making it inside to grab the substances he needed.
There were two staff members in the Infirmary, substitutes for Pomfrey, he hadn’t bothered to learn their names because he didn’t care for them one bit, just like they didn’t care about him either. It was a hate hate relationship in a way.
He slowly opened the door, he never would understand why the doors were so huge, they wouldn’t be opened by anyone who wasn’t human, so why bother?
They must have been a pain to install because they were extremely heavy, he felt his noodle arms wobble as he tried to open the door slow enough so it wouldn’t creek.
Peaking his head in, he took a look around, it seemed that there was no one near the cots on either sides pf the big room, and the door to Pomfrey’s office was closed with a little light flickering.
It seemed the two nobodies were in there, Dazai sure hoped that Pomfrey didn’t keep the medicine she had bought specifically for him in there.
Well not really because he knew it wasn’t in there, it was shoved into one of the room in the back. Or at least somewhere in that area.
So he stepped carefully, making sure his footfalls were quiet and the door shut silently behind him, before making his way to the back left corner.
There he found a couple wooden shelves with pill bottles and glads containers filled with liquid medications. They weren’t organized in anyway, so it was going to take him a bit to find what he needed; but he knew it was there.
Dazai was looking for something lethal, something that was easy, he saw Morphine and so e other names. He was basically immune to Morphine because he tried to overdose on it so often while in Mori’s care so that was a no-go.
Hmm, Methadone? He was surprised it was here, I mean sure it has been hsed for pain relief but it’s mainly used to treat Morphine or Heroin addiction. He doesn’t remember ever having to take it, so it should be fresh to his body.
Wonderful.
He read the label, it held around 946 mL in the bottle, and the average human was only supposed to take around a fourth of that. So he took the bottle in his hand, popped it open and downed half of the bottle.
Which he probably shouldn’t have done at that point, and should have waited until he was in the gang room, but it was pure impulse and a lapse in judgement that led him to down half of it.
He hopes that he’ll make it back in time before he collapses as he screws the cap back on and places it on the shelf. He then strides quietly over to the door and slips out of it. The gang room shouldn’t be too hard to find.
____
He couldn’t find the gang room. It was like the school was purposely hiding this room from him, even when he really needed it, which was crazy and rude!
He felt his vision blur at the edges, and it was already incredibly dark in the halls and it didn’t make it any easier. Shit, he just realized he could be found by a professor! Now he really needs to fund the stupid gang room.
God either this stuff was really good at pain relief or he had spent way longer roaming the halls than he had wanted, because it had gotten to the point where he couldn’t stand without leaning against the wall. It was also getting harder to breathe, so much so that he was clutching at his chest with his free hand.
He couldn’t move anymore, he needed to lie down..he could hear his heart thumping in his ears erratically. It kind of hurt..
He..didn’t really like this thing..Methadone was it..? Perhaps there was a reason why Mori hadn’t ever given this to him..
He took a quick glance around, a figure making their way towards him, and then he blacked out.
____
Patrolling the halls was such a boring task, but it was necessary to make sure that students didn’t go places they weren’t supposed to, or get lost.
He had head quick breathing, and had gotten a little confused, because he saw no body to put to the noise, he looked around a little then noticed a small figure leaning against the wall.
When he noticed the small figure had a bandage around their eye he cursed under his breath and stepped closer, he knelt down to place his hand on his shoulder. He felt surprised when the boy didn’t flinch.
What was wrong with him? He reached down to grab Mr. Dazai’s hand so he could check his pulse, the boy was incredibly clammy and his pulse was fast.
Severus couldn’t deny that he slightly panicked at that. He tried shaking the boys shoulder to wake him, but it was no use. He studied the little amount if the boys features he could see in the low candlelight from the walls, his skin look pale and almost grey.
Now he didn’t know much, but he knew that wasn’t good. So he maneuvered the boy into his arms, which was inly hard because the boy had pretty much become a rag doll, the boys weight was concerning he was so light; and Snape knew he wasn’t that strong, so it couldn’t be him.
He needed to get Mr. Dazai to the infirmary, which that wouldn’t be hard, but the situation inside that room would be complex, as Poppy was still very much a block of stone still and he didn’t have any experience in Muggle medicine.
He swears to himself right now that he will learn about it after this, he cares about Mr. Dazai, as much as he won’t admit it and he wants the boy to stay safe and alive.
Severus made his way to the infirmary and made his way to the back corner, where he fixed Mr. Dazai in a cot and closed the curtains around the boy, he then made his way over to the muggle medicines that Poopy had picked up for the boy.
He looked around, nothing seemed to be misplaced, then again he didn’t know what it would even look like if it was because he was never back here.
Severus searched through a small storage container, which was filled with documents, which were probably about muggle medicine; or at least he hoped so, and they were. He silently thanked Poppy for keeping these records, they were becoming really handy.