066

A/N: I used half of my friend's newly opened tissue pack today at school. I feel really bad 😥

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I grit my teeth so hard I thought I’d crack a molar.

Dazai stood there with that shit eating grin plastered on his face, eyes glinting like a crow about to peck open a carcass.

Meanwhile, L/N-san just watched. Quiet, patient, those eyes as hollow and endless as the goddamn ocean at night.

I didn’t like the way they looked at each other. Like two cats circling the same piece of meat, claws hidden but ready.

I forced my jaw to relax, flexing my fingers against the edge of the table.

Dazai clicked his tongue. “Ah, Chuuyaaa~ Why so tense? You look like you swallowed a lemon whole.”

I snorted, rolling my eyes. “Maybe because someone decided to waltz in here and start squawking like a damn crow.”

Dazai gasped, pressing a hand to his chest like a maiden in a cheap romance novel. “Chuuya! That hurts! I came here because I was worried about you. Spending all this time with L/N-san… are you sure he isn’t corrupting your tiny, fragile mind?”

“Fragile my ass!” I snapped, slamming my hand on the table. The plates clattered. “If anyone’s corrupting anyone, it’s you, you scum sucking bastard!”

Dazai’s grin widened, his head tilting in that irritatingly lazy way. “Oh? So defensive. You’re insufferable when you’re angry, you know.”

“Shut the hell up!” I felt the heat crawl up my neck.

I heard a faint sound beside me — like a soft chuckle. I turned my head slightly.

L/N-san had a small smile on his lips, delicate and careful, like it was painted there. But his eyes… they stayed dark. Observing. Measuring.

It made my skin itch, but at the same time, something in me tightened in a way I didn’t want to examine too closely.

Dazai leaned closer across the table, ignoring personal space as always. “You know, Chuuya, you really shouldn’t drink so much wine. It’s bad for your health. Oh! Maybe that’s why you’re so short — stunted growth!”

I nearly lunged across the table. “I SWEAR TO GOD—”

“God?” Dazai snickered. “What god? Oh! Did you finally find religion? How tragic. Maybe you can pray for a few extra inches.”

I could feel my face burning, but not from embarrassment. Rage pulsed in my veins like liquid fire.

“You wanna talk about tragedy, Dazai? At least I don’t look like I crawled out of a sewer wearing mummy bandages!” I spat.

Dazai’s eyes twinkled. “Oh? And yet you keep crawling back to me every time I save your ass. Remember last month? Or do I need to remind you of all the times you’d be fish food without me?”

I slammed both palms onto the table this time, the silverware jumping. “YOU WANNA GO, HUH? RIGHT HERE? RIGHT NOW?”

Dazai looked delighted. “Oooh, a dinner brawl? How exciting! Let me get my camera first—”

I let out a string of curses that would make even the lowest street thug impressed.

Beside me, L/N-san tilted his head slightly, watching us like we were feral cats fighting over a scrap of fish. His fingers tapped lightly against the stem of his glass, almost thoughtful.

“Interesting,” he murmured.

I felt something in my chest twist.

Why the hell was he even here? Watching me? I didn’t know. And I hated that I didn’t hate it.

Dazai leaned even closer, a grin splitting his face. “Ne, Chuuyaaa~ Are you going to cry? Do you want L/N-san to pat your head and tell you it’s all okay?”

I snapped my gaze to him, seeing red. “SHUT THE HELL UP, DAZAI!”

He laughed, a loud, bright sound that echoed too sharply in the dead quiet dining room.

L/N-san turned his gaze from Dazai to me, and for a split second — just a second — I thought I saw something real. A small tremor at the edge of his lips, a faint flicker in those abyssal eyes.

But it was gone before I could grasp it.

I gritted my teeth again, shaking with fury and something else—something sharp and clawing at the inside of my ribs.

“Ah, so lively,” L/N-san mused softly, almost to himself.

His voice was calm, melodic, but I could hear the slight fracture underneath. Like a porcelain doll with a hairline crack running through its face.

I forced myself to take a slow breath.

Dazai wasn’t done. Of course not.

“Oh, Chuuya~” Dazai crooned, propping his chin on his hand. “Do you think if you keep screaming like that, you’ll finally grow a few more decibels taller? Or are you just compensating for… other things?”

I roared, lunging up from my chair. “I’LL FUCKIN’ KILL YOU!”

Dazai’s grin turned wolfish. “Oh! Such language in front of L/N-san! You’re going to ruin your image as the mafia’s little puppy!”

Something inside me snapped.

I whipped around to L/N-san. He was still watching, still calm, still too damn close and yet somehow miles away. His lips curled up again in that same fragile, almost beautiful smile that never quite made it to his eyes.

I reached out, grabbed his wrist before I could stop myself.

His eyes widened, round and startled like a someone who just saw fireworks for the first time.

Dazai’s voice dropped, the childish edge dissolving instantly. “Chuuya—”

I didn’t let him finish. I shoved my chair back, the legs screeching against the floor.

“We’re leaving,” I growled, voice low and vibrating with barely controlled fury.

L/N-san didn’t resist. He didn’t even seem to process it properly — just stared at me with those wide, empty eyes, like I’d suddenly grown a second head.

Dazai stood frozen for a split second, the grin on his face cracking like old paint.

I tightened my grip on L/N-san’s wrist, turning sharply on my heel and stomping toward the door.

Behind me, I heard Dazai’s faint, shaky breath. The room had gone deathly silent.

For a moment — just a breath — I thought I heard the faintest sound of something fragile shattering behind me.

I didn’t look back.

Dazai stood motionless, the playful curve of his lips gone as if it had never existed.

His eyes, once glittering with mischievous light, dulled into a cold, bottomless void.

The air around him thickened, oppressive, as if the entire room had forgotten how to breathe.

Fingers curled slowly against the tablecloth, his nails digging in deep enough to tear the fabric.

A long, chilling exhale slipped past his lips — soft, measured, more terrifying than any shout.

"Ah…" he whispered, voice almost tender, almost reverent. "So that’s how you want to play."

His gaze flicked to the empty doorway, pupils blown wide with something dark and all consuming.

A still, deathly calm settled into his bones, like a beast coiling before the final, inevitable pounce.