Chapter Text
Section 1: The Dreamer
Monday, April 16th, 4:28 AM
Chuuya Nakahara awoke with a gasp, a million thoughts rushing through his mind, the most prominent of them being;
What the actual fuck just happened?
While he struggled to properly provide air to his lungs in a sustainable way, he reflected on what he had just witnessed in his.. dreams? Was that really all just a dream? He knew he definitely could have a wild imagination, especially while sleeping, but it was hard to believe that his mind could come up with such an unpleasant, purely awful scenario all on its own.
Seriously, what the fuck?
After officially getting a few nice, satisfying breaths in, he came to terms with the fact that yes, it was his own mind that had conjured up such a repulsive scene. That idea made him sick, but he supposed it was his own brain's fault.
God.. how bad are these going to get?
Chuuya thought to himself, massaging his hand through his unruly, tangled hair, still slick with sweat from the nightmare that had previously ensued.
He had been having some decently unsettling dreams for a few weeks now, but tonight, something must have escalated.
I mean, what could possibly be worse than that?
He shivered at the implications of that, trying anything in his power to erase what he had thought to have witnessed out of his head.
No, there is nothing worse. Not at all.
Shaking his head, as if to clear the dreary air around him, he tried to forget it all. The silence. The sparks that had flown around like particularly vicious fireflies, causing ear splitting screams until darkness took hold of his vision and body. The feeling of weightlessness, or he supposed it was considered numbness, that left him feeling empty.
“Not me!” Something seemed to say, and Chuuya finally let himself relax a bit, until he tensed right back up again when he came to the realization that if it was not him in that wretched place, then who was it?
Who was it that had to suffer through that agony? Who would ever deserve such a horrible end, for there was no possible way that any person would be able to withstand the physical and emotional torture of the event, and manage to come out in one proper piece.
Even if the person on the other side of that film was still alive, heart pumping and chest rising, there is no way they would still be completely living.
Some kinds of wounds are impossible to fully heal from. Chuuya would know, for he has definitely had his fair share of those types. He knows that even if others claim that they have fully recovered, there will always be a part of them that is still scared of having to relive that specific moment in their lives.
Those traumas, Chuuya thinks, are like scars. Though lots of people will claim that a scar has fully disappeared, if you look closely enough, there will always be a reminder, if faint, that something has made an impact.
Whether it took the form of a cut, a scrape, a broken bone, or something more clearly seen on the inside of a person's soul, nobody has the power to erase that from existence, no matter how long the injury lasted or how bad it was considered to be.
Some people will decide that their scars are what make them stronger, and will take pride in displaying them, while others will try to hide them from everyone, but no matter what type of person somebody is, their scars will remain scars whether they want them to or not.
That's the tricky thing about trying to be human, Chuuya decides, while everyone certainly has the freedom of choosing their decisions, nothing about a person can force others to make the same on—
Chuuya gets interrupted out of his thoughts when he hears muffled footsteps start approaching his bedroom door.
He is about to go full panic mode, breathing picking up and all, when he remembers that he is safe. Nobody will hurt him like that again.
Even with that reassurance, Chuuya still would like to set his breathing back to a normal pattern again and attempt to control his racing heart, so he tries to settle down and focus on that.
By the time that he feels that he is in full control of his body and emotions, (which is after digging his nails so hard into his skin that he bleeds) the footsteps have already come to a full stop after reaching their final destination: the bathroom at the end of the hall.
Instead of feeling embarrassed or ashamed of his seemingly overly exaggerated reaction to the situation, Chuuya just feels exhausted after having to coax himself out of two almost-panic attacks in the span of less than half an hour.
He glances over to his alarm clock, which reads the annoyingly early time of 4:42, which is definitely too early to wake up, but way too late to get any more good quality sleep for the night.
“Well,” Chuuya mumbles to himself, “I may as well try to get more rest before School tomorrow.”
And with that, he flops over to his side and slowly falls into a fitful sleep, opting to completely forget about the nightmare he had dealt with a few moments prior and the nail-shaped marks covering the inside of his palms.
Section 2: The Dream
Monday, April 16th, 3:54 AM
The brown-haired boy involuntarily flinched at the hard, cold footsteps nearing his locked bedroom door.
“Please don’t come closer” he thought to himself, curling into a tight ball. “I don’t want you near me”
Unfortunately for him, the steps did come closer, deciding to stop right outside of his bedroom door.
Just leave me alo-
“Dazai. Come on out please, I have a surprise for you,” An unsettlingly chipper voice rang out, disrupting the steady waves of panic that were embedding themselves into the boy's skin and mind.
Even though it sounded genuine, Dazai knew that it was extremely unreliable to believe in the fondness of the words, or the peacefulness of the tone, so he opted to stay silent and hope for the best.
He shouldn't have hoped.
“You should be well aware of the consequences if you don’t obey me by now, Dazai” The voice- no, Mori, seemed to taunt, but perhaps it was a flicker of instability in his fragile mind that happened to cover up the newly harsh inflection in the words being spoken, because Dazai seemed to ignore all reason and continued to not make a move.
“Okay, as you are very clearly ignoring me, you have nobody but yourself to blame for this,” Mori jeered, with a level of excited cruelness that would never fail to make Dazai’s hair stand on end, “After all, this isn't the first time you have disobeyed a direct command from me.”
Dazai felt a prickle in his neck just above where it connected to his shoulder blade, before a tingly feeling washed over him that made his limbs feel like jello, rendering his body as completely useless.
“It’s just like you to be unable to do anything, completely at his mercy. It's all your fault,” were the boy's final thoughts as the uncomfortable feeling turned into a numb one, before swallowing him up completely.
29 minutes later…
The first sense that was returned to Dazai when he awoke was his ability to feel things, and lets just say, waking up with arm, leg, and head restrictions is not the most calming thing in the world.
Even without being able to hear properly, he knew that he was breathing extremely unhealthily, practically to the point of hyperventilating.
As luck would have it, the same moment he thinks this, his complete hearing happens to return to him and he can finally make out the sounds around him.
“What a joy” is the first thing that drifts through his head when he hears his slightly muffled, panting breaths mixed with the sound of clicking shoes on concrete. “This is going to be a great time.”
After what felt like an eternity of waiting, (but was probably only around 2 minutes) Dazai has finally regained all of his senses, along with his composure as well, and is fully ready to confront the bear in the room.
A soft light clicks on directly over his head, which is still strapped down, Dazai realizes with a vague sense of horror, and Mori appears directly in his line of sight, but thankfully not looking at him, with a wide grin stretching across his face.
God, or anyone who is out there, if I manage to finally die here, please let the last thing I see not be Mori’s ugly face.
Dazai doesn’t believe in any Gods or inhuman beings, and he probably never will, but on the off chance that there actually is something out there, he decides that he wants to be on their good side, if only for the chance to not have to be in the presence of Mori for any unnecessary time.
He is brought back into his predicament by a quiet, yet cruel, chuckle that would cause him to immediately try to get far, far away from it if he wasn't seemingly tied down with metal cuffs stretching over the most useful parts of his body for escaping.
Damn bastard, always coming up with a solution to problems that haven't happened yet, all thanks to that ability.
If Dazai was being completely honest with himself, he didn’t fully understand the logistics of Mori’s ability, only knowing that it has something to do with finding solutions to things that no normal person should know was a problem in the first place.
Mori only seemed to use it on things that he already had extensive knowledge on, which led Dazai to assume that one of the prerequisites to using it was having previous knowledge on a subject before trying to solve a problem.
Unfortunately in his case, Mori seemed to have known this for a large majority of his life, so he always made sure to be well-informed of all things medical or mechanical, leading to him being able to build and manipulate medically accurate technology that can change things about a person's mental, or physical health.
Using this power, Mori has made several major physical altercations to Dazai’s body, including the chip in his neck that made him pass out for nearly half an hour.
Dazai has no idea about the amount of “practical surgeries” that have been performed on him, As he had lost count a long time ago, but considering the fact that he has gained a full tolerance to most types of anesthesia or other types of drugs that make you pass out, he can infer that there have been way too many.
All of those ability possibilities are pushed directly out of Dazai’s mind when he circles back to the issue at hand, which is that Mori seems delighted about something, which is never a good thing, and he is unable to move any of his limbs.
He attempts to see if there is any leverage or room to even slightly shift around, but has no luck whatsoever.
Unfortunately, because something always has to go wrong in his life, Dazai’s effort of shifting alerts Mori that he is aware of his surroundings and can now properly hold a conversation.
“Hello again Dazai, i'm glad to have you back” He cheerfully exclaims, a glint of something dangerous in his eyes. “I got so worried when I thought you were ignoring me, because how could you possibly do that to the person who saved you, but now I realize that you were so excited at the prospect of a surprise that your brain and body stopped functioning properly. Luckily for you, I have a perfect way to fix that!”
“Oh no” Dazai thought, already not liking the false happiness in the twisted man's expression. “This is going to be a really bad one”
As if reading his mind, Mori’s face immediately morphed into something more sour, looking like he was expecting to receive lemonade and was instead given lime juice.
“Oh Dazai,” Mori said, a sinister smirk taking over his face, “aren't you going to ask about how I am going to fix you?”
At these words, Dazai’s mouth went dry, mind racing at the implications of “I am going to fix you.” Anybody who says that clearly has bad intentions, but coming from Mori, that could mean a number of things, anywhere from drawing a person’s blood to burning them at a stake, all in the name of “fixing” someone.
“Well,” the man continued “today I am just going to fix your attitude towards me, but that does mean that you get to be the first person to witness my newest creation! Consider yourself lucky!”
Dazai felt like he was going to be sick.
A new creation? What could that possibly mean for me? This is not good at all.
At the following silence, Mori continued, “Still ignoring me I see, that’s too bad. Maybe your punishment would’ve been lessened if you just did what I said.”
He brought out a fancy looking controller from his faux coat, which he refused to take off at any time, and held it up to Dazai’s eyes.
“You see this? This is how my finished product works! You just click this button here and—”
Dazai couldn’t hear anymore. Couldn’t see anymore. All that existed for him was pain. The excruciating, insufferable, pure agony type. It felt like he was being boiled alive from the inside out, consuming his entire being and seeping through the cracks of his broken, battered body. It was the only thing he had, maybe ever will have again, and the only thought he could have through the whirlwind of absolute torture was “Please. Just kill me. Anybody.”
As if something had read his mind, but not followed the directions properly, Dazai felt himself… floating?
Floating was definitely not the right word, but it was all there was.
The pain was replaced by this nauseating, gut wrenching feeling that could not compare to the former by even a fraction. It felt as if he wasn’t in his body at all, or someone had hollowed his form so drastically, all that remained was an empty shell.
It was such a pleasant change to being in that dreadful chair, that Dazai felt himself embrace it, letting the sickly emptiness suave him, cocoon him, and protect him from harm.
Unfortunately, this comfort couldn’t last forever, as after a few long moments of pure bliss, it seemed, something dark decided to pull him from this place and set him back into the moment, but not completely.
He saw it all, but from a different angle, his body convulsing, electricity dancing all around him. He couldn’t see his face, but he knew it was him all the same.
The screams seeming to rip out of his throat without consent would be deafening, if he actually happened to be in his own body, but from this weird watching state, nothing seemed to be happening as it should.
Time stopped. His ears rang. Everything was too much and not enough all at the same time and—
There he was. Forced back into himself, as if it was that simple.
At least everything was numb, but he could feel himself slipping.
“Don't disobey my commands again, or it might happen to be your dear little sister, Elise, in this very same chair next time.” Were the last things he could comprehend as he said bye to the last bit of remaining consciousness.
The world went black, consuming him fully and leaving nothing behind, just like it always does.