Work Text:
You have been apart of the armed detective agency for years. Over that time you grew close enough with everyone there to the point that they felt almost like family. Despite you being quite happy there you, of course, still had some issues regarding your past and self-esteem. Because of this you ended up resorting to cutting yourself rather than talking to someone.
So, there you were, razor blade in hand, cutting at your thighs on the floor of your bedroom. With each swipe of the blade appeared a new stinging red line that quickly filled with crimson and bubbled over, droplets rolling down your thigh and onto the floor. A small puddle was quick to form.
The action was as painful as it was satisfying. Each cut grew deeper than the last as the cold metal surface got stained with your blood. You stared down at your bleeding thighs with a swirling mix of pain and apathy as the unmistakable, metallic smell of your guilt and shame filled the air.
.
.
.
“That won’t fix anything. Now, will it?” Dazai said with an unusually serious look on is face, his words slicing through the thick silence.
You yelp with surprise at his sudden appearance. The razor blade falls out of your hand and onto the floor, hitting the ground with a metal clink. “H-how long have you been standing there?!”
“I just came in. I was gonna ask you something but you weren’t answering your phone, so I came to you.” He explained while leaning against the doorframe to your bedroom.
“I gave you that spare key to my apartment in case of emergencies! Not just so you can ‘come over’ whenever you please.” You scolded. Though, you were in no place to be doing so, as were bleeding out on the floor.
Dazai gives you a pointed look, pushing himself off the doorframe and walking over to you. He kneels down to pick up the razor blade, examining the bloodied metal before his gaze returns to your bleeding thighs. His eyes flickered back to yours, “How long has this been going on?” He asked calmly, though there was an edge of concern to his voice as he pocketed the blade in his long tan coat.
Your expression darkens at his predictable question, “a while..” you mutter, purposefully being vague. Dazai sighed, realizing he was getting nowhere trying to talk to you about it. “your first-aid kit is in the bathroom cabinet, correct?”
You nodded gravely, and with that he went to your bathroom and came out with the medical kit. He squatted down to where you were sitting before placing down the med-kit, sitting down crisscross next to you.
He opens the medical kit with a click, taking out what he needed. He first took a cotton pad and soaked it with alcohol before hovering it over your thigh. “This might sting a bit.” He said, giving you a second to brace yourself. You wince as he cleaned and disinfected the cuts with the alcohol. The potent smell of the rubbing alcohol was intoxicating, even more familiarly pungent than the smell of your own blood.
As you squeeze your eyes shut from the stinging pain you feel him grab your hand. A bit shocked by the gesture, you accept it, holding his hand. You squeeze it slightly for comfort as he wipes up your blood with his other hand.
After, a couple cotton pads were stained a deep crimson. The cuts that once were obscured by blood were now visible, and they were a lot worse than you thought. Dazai’s face darkened slightly at the sight of the deep incisions.
“Some of these are gonna need stitches..” Dazai pointed out as he carefully ran his thumb over one of the wounds.
“I’m sorry” you uttered out, a pang of guilt hitting your chest.
Dazai’s expression softens at your words, “Don’t apologize, just… promise me you’ll come to us - it doesn’t even have to be me - next time you feel like doing something like this again.” He answered as he got the needle ready. You nodded solemnly in response, regretfully rubbing your arm to soothe yourself.
And with that, Dazai began to suture the gaping cuts closed. With each prick of the needle, blood once again began to blossom out of the wounds. Dazai’s hands were a bit cold, but gentle as he diligently sewed the opening shut. It felt like forever for him to even just get the first one done. As he worked you quietly admired his focused scarlet eyes, trying to disassociate from the discomfort of the needle pricking your sore cuts.
Snip
He had cut the string of the last stitch. “You did well for someone who was getting stabbed repeatedly. I was half-expecting you to start kicking and screaming at the first pinch.” Dazai teased playfully, trying to ease the tension as he wiped away the blood with a cotton pad.
“Do I get a gold star?” said jokingly, a slight smirk playing on your face as your nerves faded.
“Well.. I’m not sure about that.” he responded with amusement as he bandaged your thighs in a similar fashion to his own arms.
Once finished, he snipped the gauze and stuck the loose end in the wrap securely, giving your bandaged thigh a little pat to ensure it was taut.
“I hope you don’t expect me to do this again in the future. Next time I’m definitely just calling Yosano.” He stated as he took a seated stretch from his previously hunched position.
“Not that I expect there to be a next time.” He added sternly as he got up from the floor.
“Yeah, yeah, I know. I’ll try.” You answered, rather dismissively. “That’s all I ask of you; that you try.” He said in response, offering his hand to help you up.
You grab his hand, letting him pull you up from the floor. “Thanks..” You muttered sheepishly.
Once you were up you checked your phone that was on your desk. Your phone turned on to reveal the multiple messages and missed calls from Dazai earlier.
“Sorry, I forgot I had my phone on silent.” You said, sliding your phone into your back pocket. “I think that might’ve actually been a blessing in disguise.” He responded. “Now, what do you say we go get some drinks to help you get your mind off this? It’s what I was messaging you about earlier, anyways.” He relaxed his stance, eyes gleaming with mischief.
“Wow.. getting me drunk to distract me from my problems?” You sigh, feigning disappointment. “You’re a horrible influence.” You exaggerate jokingly.
Dazai chuckles slightly at your dramatic performance. “So, is that a yes?” He asked, amused.
“Yeah, just give me 15 minutes.” You say, already looking for something to wear in your closet. “Alright, I’ll be waiting in the car.” He leaves you in your room to get ready as he starts the car.
You got ready quickly and went to the car. At the bar you guys chatted for hours over drinks. That day, a sense of comfort you hadn’t felt in a while washed over you. The feeling that something within you changed - or rather, that something within you realized you could change.
Things don’t have to stay this way forever.