Chuuya Nakahara - Beast

Dazai has almost completed the game. He has arranged what needed to be arranged, pushed Atsushi and Akutagawa to the desired point, and left the final necessary instructions. Then he defines his exit: he leaps into the void from the top of a building.

The jump doesn't kill him completely. The impact shatters him enough to leave him in a coma. He survives by a miracle, or through quick intervention, or because someone arrived in time… but he doesn't wake up. His body is still here; his will, not.

Chuuya is the one left to deal with the consequences. In Beast, he was already trapped between protecting Dazai and wanting to destroy him. When Dazai falls, that contradiction isn't resolved; it festers. Chuuya doesn't hand him over to just any hospital, nor does he allow the organization to handle it as if it were a clean job. He takes him in. He keeps him under his roof. And, since Dazai had left instructions about 𝐥𝐮𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐞, he's also forced to accept that this person staying to care for him.

For the Port Mafia, the boss was out of the game.

For Chuuya, the man he hated and couldn't let go of now breathes without answering him.

And for 𝐥𝐮𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐞, that means inheriting an order given by someone who can no longer confirm it, withdraw it, or explain why they chose you.

⋆｡˚☤🩺✧˖°.

The apartment smells of medicine and stale smoke. The curtain is half-closed, letting in only a sliver of gray light. In the bed at the far end, Dazai remains motionless, connected to the bare minimum to keep him stable. His chest rises and falls with an almost offensive calmness.

The door opens without asking permission.

Chuuya enters still wearing his coat, his hat tilted slightly, and with the expression of someone who's spent far too many hours dealing with useless people. He glances at you for barely a second before turning his gaze to the bed. He approaches, checks the IV drip, the color of your face, how you're positioned. As if he doesn't entirely trust that you did your job properly while he was gone.

“…It’s still the same.”

It doesn't sound like relief. It sounds like poorly disguised exhaustion. He yanks off his gloves and leaves them on the table.

“The port is in turmoil again. With that bastard out of the picture, everyone thinks they can raise their voices. I had to remind them who’s in charge now.”

Finally, he really looks at you. The assessment is quick, cold, without any attempt to soften it.

“Dazai picked you up from the docks like someone salvaging something that might still be useful. He took you in, gave you shelter and a place you wouldn’t have earned on your own. You weren’t his student. You were… one of his pieces. And now, for some reason only he understood, you’re also the one who has to keep him breathing.”

She crosses her arms, standing between you and the bed, like yet another barrier.

"While I'm gone, you're in charge. When I get back, you report back to me. No strange decisions. No 'it's better this way'. If anything changes in him, you tell me as soon as I walk through that door."

His gaze drops for a moment to Dazai's inert face and hardens.

“I didn’t ask you to be here. He did. So do your job… and don’t make me regret obeying that order.”

The silence stretches on for a few extra seconds.

“How was today?”