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bandaged-writer · 4 years

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gasoline 03 || dazai

➤ Pairing: Mafia! Dazai x Ability User! Reader

➤ Genre: action, fluff, angst, smut, gore, violence

➤ Warnings: mentions of blood

➤ Summary: It wasn’t every day that someone dared to attack the mafia’s men, it wasn’t every day that a stranger joined the organization and it certainly wasn’t usual for Mori to get an innocent citizen killed.

➤ Word count: 4k

➤ Note: Enjoy reading + feedback is very much appreciated!

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Pitch black heels clacked against the concrete at a steady pace while the breeze was gently playing with the hem of the equally dark dress you wore. It felt like the wind was greeting you after you had holed yourself up in the new apartment Mori had provided. How had he phrased it? Ah, right. Since someone was out for your life and you were a member of the mafia, it was their duty to be able to keep an eye on you. You had seen no lie in the boss’s eyes, no matter how deep your eyes bored into his - he was honest about this.

Three days had passed since Yukino’s death, three days had passed since Mori had tended to your wound, three days had passed since your life had taken a brutal turn.

The people passing you seemed to have no face, although you knew that all of them carried a name, a birthday and a very individual voice. They had become faceless and the words they spoke were silent, never reached your ears. Instead, the dull sound of your shoes hitting the street filled every fibre of your being along with the fear of attending your friend’s funeral and meeting her parents for possibly the last time.

Your hands were cupped right above your stomach as your feet carried you down the street you were so familiar with, the street in which you used to live in. From the corner of your eyes, you could see your neighbors gazing out of the window, cooking or trying to feed their children. Oh, how lucky they were to have a healthy, functioning haven which would protect them from every storm. Oh, how nice it had to be not to be transparent to the world. Oh, how that luxury slipped through your fingers like water.

Suddenly, your feet stopped in front of your former apartment. Raising your gaze, you felt pain itself tug on your heartstrings and wanting to pull them apart. Breathing physically hurt as the plain white facade of the house stared right back at you, still filled with furniture and plants as if no one had died in there, as if it didn’t soak up Yukino’s blood. Your heartrate sped up against your will, but you remained calm on the outside like a doll.

“We’re finally living together!,” a grin adorned Yukino’s small face, her dark eyes filled with nothing but the purity of happiness and a hint of exhaustion. Various colors of paint stained her cheek and clothes, hands a bit calloused from putting up wardrobes and shelves. You chuckled in response and breathed in the fresh paint. It was an unpleasant smell, but it’d soon become the scent of home. “You’re always too excited about the smalles of things,” you flicked Yukino’s forehead gently like she was a child. Pouting, she rubbed her forehead, brushed your comment off and fished her phone out of the back pocket of her now more than colorful jeans.

“Let’s take a picture! It’s our first memory in here and will remain forever.”

You stood next to Yukino who wrapped an arm around her shoulder, her grin never fading. The corners of your mouth tugged themselves upwards into a gentle, warm smile as Yukino snapped the picture with her phone.

“Say cheese, [Name]"!

You tugged some of your hair behind your ear, exhaled slowly and turned your back to the place you once called home. It was too painful to visit the past, to visit the place of a happy memory when you were drowning in an ocean of thoughts, regrets and guilt. “The place which holds our first memory has become the place which now carries our last memory,” you spoke to no one in particular, the wind washed your words of sadness away as you turned your back toward the building you had once loved so much.

Out of the blue, dark dots decorated the concrete and as you stretched out your palm, you felt that it was starting to rain.

It’d pour soon, you thought.

Relatives had gathered around the tombstone which had become Yukino’s permanent bed, flowers of all colors glowed among the dark garments on everyones’ bodies, among the tears being spilled, among the dreary clouds which seemed to mourn as well. She had always liked bright colors, you remembered.

“[Name]..dear..,” it was Yukino’s mother who first spotted you isolated from the crowd. She didn’t seem to mind the mud dirtying the fancy black of her shoes as she came running to you, her slender arms wrapping you into a hug and her chin finding home on your shoulder. “I’m so sorry you had to witness this,” the woman’s voice was shaking, became more fragile than fine china the more words fell from her red-painted lips. It took you a moment to find the strength in your arms to return the hug and once your arms were wrapped around Yukino’s mom, she broke into tears.

“Why would anyone take Yukino’s life? She couldn’t even harm a fly,” she sobbed and ruined her makeup she spent quite a while on - possibly to shorten the time she would have to be at the funeral. It was understandable and you couldn’t blame Yukino’s mother. Who wanted to attend their child’s funeral? “I know,” was all you could say as the mother used you as a rock to steady herself.

“How are you holding up?,” you recognized the voice and sent Yukino’s father a faux smile which never filled the emptiness of your eyes. His strong arms gently pulled his wife away from you and she immediately wiped her eyes, leaning her weight against her husband’s body. “I’m alright,” you lied through white teeth but the more you’d say it, the more you could convince yourself that you indeed were okay. Father didn’t seem to believe you, but he never dug deeper than that. Maybe he understood your way of dealing with this tragedy, maybe he didn’t even want to know.

“I hope the police will catch the murderer. Yukino deserves justice,” mother had regained some of her composure, but her nose was red from all the sniffing, eyes a bit bloodshot from all the crying she had to go through. You couldn’t sense any hatred in her - she was either too broken to hate or she was really that kind. Oh, how badly you wanted to tell her that the police would be no match for the masked murderer, that they’d end up drowning in their own blood much like her daughter. However, there was one thing you could guarantee the shattered parents:

“She will get justice. I’ll make sure of it.”

Small hands found home on your nearly bare shoulders, a sad smile finding its way on the lips of Yukino’s mother. “You’re a strong one, aren’t you?,” she brushed drenched strands of your hair away from your face and cupped your cold cheek - her touch was warm and welcoming as always. A woman who was the embodiment of love and forgiveness. “You’re always more than welcome,” Yukino’s mother offered you to stay at their place, to become a temporary home, but did you deserve it after letting their daughter die in your arms?

You had already lost your home and it was buried two meters under.

“Thank you. But it won’t be necessary,” you removed the hand from your cheek and bid your farewell to the parents. You had no right to console them after what had happened three days ago.

And so, you had sat down on a bench not too far away from Yukino’s colorful grave with the rain pouring down on you. Hour after hour passed, guests left one by one after giving the parents a comforting hug and words of encouragement they probably couldn’t commit to themselves, yet. Why did people try to cheer up others when they themselves were in so much pain that they couldn’t believe their own words? Maybe it was the same as you telling Yukino’s parents that you were okay when in reality, you were broken beyond repair.

Eventually, the graveyard was empty and your only company had become the rain. Dull eyes stared at the grave like they were waiting to wake up from a nightmare, but one couldn’t wake up from reality. Not when you knew that the rain soaking you was very much real, when the wind blowing by froze you to your bones, when that hole in your heart physically hurt you to the point your lungs hurt with each inhale.

At once, the rain seemed to avoid you. Looking up, you saw Dazai standing next to you with an umbrella in his hand which shielded the both of you from the sky’s endless tears. For a moment, the brunette said nothing while his dull eyes were fixed on the grave which you were visiting with distance - like it could burn you if you got too close.

“She was your friend, wasn’t she?,” Dazai suddenly spoke up, but the low timbre of his voice prevented you from feeling startled. In a dark corner of his heart, he felt sorry for you losing your best friend. He remembered the determined glimmer in your eyes when you had stood in front of Mori and burned whatever piece of information about your past the boss had in his hands. But now, you seemed like a shell of who you used to be, the light in your eyes burned out and what was left was someone who became transparent to the world.

“The cause of death was a cut to her jugular,” your gaze fell back to the grave in front of you as you recalled the memory bit by bit without being asked to. It felt like you were running on gasoline like a machine. “That night, I tried to cauterize it to win some time, but the cut was too deep. Yukino died in my arms before her murderer came for my life, as well,” everything was monotonous. Dazai understood why you had been drenched in blood when he found you at the pier, but now the question was how he was supposed to respond.

Blood stained his own bandaged hands, the lives of countless of people went on his account. He himself had committed more crimes than he could count.

Maybe, Dazai shouldn’t say anything at all.

“What do you plan on doing now?,” it nearly sounded like Dazai was offering you a way out of the mafia, to go live your life and get yourself back together or maybe he just wanted to know what you’d do now that you could use the mafia’s influence and resources. You’d probably never find out what his intention was. Briefly, your eyes looked up at the grey sky, a few rain drops found their way on your cheeks as the wind blew from a different direction.

“I promised to avenge her. Until then, I can’t afford to die,” suddenly, it stopped raining and the sun slowly peeked through the thick clouds, dipping your form in a false halo as you put on the mask of a smiling fool. It tightly stuck to your skin as it melted into your face, the smile was a bit too angelic, too pure to be real and Dazai saw that the mask you wore threatened to become one with you.

“I see,” he turned his back to you and looked at you over his shoulder, catching your gaze. “We’ve got some things to talk about. Come.”

Sitting in the corner of a small restaurant which mainly sold crabs, sake and ramen, you rubbed your hair dry with a towel the owner’s wife had kindly gotten you after being outraged about your soaked form. You looked at your reflection in the window, trying to make your damp hair look as acceptable as possible when Dazai chirped up:“You know you’re already a sight for sore eyes, right?” This guy would never give up his attempts to woo you, would he? A huff left your lips and your fingers reached for the small menu card which listed more dishes than expected - a pleasant surprise. “Thanks for your unnecessary input.”

“Ah, your tongue is as sharp as always, belladonna!,” the brunette threw his head back and covered his eyes with his right hand, the other one placed on his heart as the man let another rejection of yours sink in. Silently, you wondered how a dumbass of Dazai’s caliber could make it into the mafia and managed to survive that lifestyle. The more you wondered, the more you could feel a headache approaching and stopped. Gazing over the edge of the menu, you hid your pout behind the sheet of paper. “Quit acting like you’re hurt and tell me if anything on this menu is good.”

“Everything here is good,” Dazai looked at you with doe-like eyes, a sense of innocence filled them and he nearly looked boyish. Skillyfully taking the menu card from your fingers, he pointed at the bowl of ramen, saying that you’d probably like it best. “How do you know I like ramen?,” it was a bit creepy, considering you had never shared a meal with the brunette and didn’t even know of his existence until three days prior. Dazai leaned back in his seat, a small shrug of his shoulders quickly followed. “When I followed you home, I could smell your roommate cooking ramen and people usually cook dishes their roommate could like. Especially after having come home after spending a year abroad.”

How badly you wanted to pin this on beginner’s luck or a lucky guess of his, but Dazai’s reasoning was too accurate to be deemed as mere luck. What he had let you see was probably only a tiny bit of his wits and you weren’t sure if you were ready to see more of it.

Your train of thought was interrupted by the waitress coming up to your table and you couldn’t find it in you to be surprised when Dazai was flirting with her. “Your hands are as tender as ever,” Dazai mused as he traced his finger along the waitress’s pale knuckles. A blush quickly rose to her cheeks and you could tell that these two were at least acquainted up to some sort of level. “Oh, quit it. Not here,” the woman giggled and bashfully pulled her hand away from the brunette’s grasp as she took his order: crab soup. She was about to leave when you caught her attention by clearing your throat and smiling at her - she was beyond unpleased.

“Excuse me, but you forgot my order, miss,” you spoke a bit too sweetly and blinked a few times too many. The nerve this woman had. “Right, of course..”

In the end, you could see why Dazai flirted with the woman. He got a discount and a bigger bowl than you.

“I can’t understand how someone can be so smitten with you,” you spoke after gulping down a fair amount of your noodles and slightly burning your tongue in the process. The dish was surprisingly delicious, neither too spicy nor too bland and tickled your tongue just right. If only it wasn’t piping hot and burned your esophagus. Well, that went on you for being too greedy. “Are my ears deceiving me or are you jealous?,” Dazai took a bite of his crab, a pleased look on his face as he tasted the tender meat of the creature. Not having had his favorite food in a while made Dazai appreciate the dish more than usual. “Not in this lifetime,” you warningly point your chopsticks at the brunette with narrowed eyes and your lips forming a straight line. You’d rather die than develop a thing for Dazai who was a scaringly smart dumbass.

From that point on, the conversation died down which you were thankful for. You could finally enjoy your meal in peace without worrying about what kind of words would assault your poor ears. The noodlesoup warmed you up from within your very core and made you feel less dead than before. In the meantime, Dazai occasionally stole glances at you, committed every reaction of yours to his memory and analyzed you from head to toe.

You were kind to others and could love deeply - the sudden change you went through after Yukino’s death was solid evidence of that. However, beside those positive traits, he could sense the thick cloud of sadness and loneliness surrounding you like a hug and Dazai saw himself in you for a second.

You just finished your bowl of ramen relaxed into your seat when Dazai was the one to start a conversation, one which you would rather avoid, but you know it had to happen sooner or later. “Have you seen the ice user? Any detail is important.” Your cheek rested on your right palm while your left index finger traced the rim of the glass of water you had ordered. The glass squeaked quietly once in a while. “It was a woman. The body was delicate and about my height, but that’s all I could see. She wore a mask and a long robe of some sorts.” Dazai cupped his chin in thought and nodded to himself, his hair went with the soft motion. “Any anomalies?” You told him about how Yukino’s body nearly froze yours, how the temperatures dropped and how the woman could manipulate ice to create weapons and even freeze rivers. “The description is identical to our information. It’s a good thing you fought her in combat. Then we have at least an idea of her ability.”

The ringtone of a phone interrupted the small exchange of information and made your heart skip a beat. Dazai brought his phone to his ear and you could see the brunette’s face fall as he realized that Mori was on the other end of the line. “How’s your date with [Name] going?,” the mafia boss seemed to be in a good mood if his cheery tone was anything to go by, but Dazai wouldn’t bet money on it. Seeing the chance to tease you and get another reaction out of you, he went along with Mori’s words. “Why, my date with [Name] is going well!,” the rest of the phone call was spent by Dazai only saying okay or yes - much like when a mother phoned her child, bombarded them with questions and the kid just wanted the conversation to end as soon as possible.

“This is not a date. And you won’t ever take me on one, either,” you crossed your arms over your chest while Dazai hung up on his boss. You were familiar with guys like Dazai, guys who were popular with the ladies, got what they wanted and then vanished the morning after. The story with the waitress wasn’t much different, either. He flirted with her, got his discount and never took it any further despite getting the poor woman’s hopes up. “Will you, belladonna, at least let me try to win your lovely heart?”

You had to admit that Dazai was handsome, even quite charming. But you knew where this would get you if you gave in. “Dazai, please, save the both of us the heartbreak.” At that, he raised his eyebrows in curiosity, eyes sparked up with something you would call being challenged, maybe even pleasantly surprised. “Are you implying that I could fall for you and vice versa?” You shrugged lightly and let your eyes fall on Dazai’s face and tilted your head to the side, smirking. “Over my dead body.”

The carpet drowned out the clacking of your heels and you noted that the hole you had burned into the fabric was gone. With the sun setting, the light painted the mafia boss’s office in an orange hue and let the river outside seem warm and welcoming for a quick dip. It was a picture perfect.

“I will only remain here until the person who killed Yukino is dead,” you sat down in front of Mori’s desk, Dazai sat next to you with legs crossed and his ears following the conversation attentively. He acted as a witness to whatever compromise you and the boss would agree on. “Until then, you’re going to keep my original job secure and once this is over, you’ll pretend like I’ve never been part of the mafia and destroy every bit of documented information you have about me.”

Mori was impressed by your negotiation skills, figuring that business school taught you that much. Looked like your grades were neither a disappointment nor a lie. “I’ll agree with this if you agree to my conditions,” Mori smiled and rested his chin on the back of his hand. He definitely had no problem with the things you demanded from him, they sounded fair and he doubted you would ever leak the way the mafia operated - they could take care of you faster than you could blink. “All I expect from you is to be loyal and obedient. If any of my subordinates suspect you of betraying the mafia, they have the right to kill you.” Unconsciously, your spine straightened and a drop of sweat ran down your temple. You squirmed in your seat at the mere thought of everyone in this building being allowed to kill you of they thought of it as necessary. “Fine,” it didn’t sit quite well with you, but this was the cost for regaining a normal life.

“Excellent!,” Mori clapped his gloved hands together once, reached for a file in his drawer and handed it to you. To your surprise, it seemed to be one of confidential content since it was sealed. The seal was already broken by Mori, though. “Dazai already enlightened you about our situation and information, so I want the two of you to partner up and find out who’s behind this. You’ll find more information in there.”

You bowed more out of fear than respect before leaving his damned office.

As soon as the heavy doors to Mori’s office fell into the lock behind you, you let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding. Something about this man absolutely terrified you and you feared that if you let the boss know you were scared of him, he could smell it and attack you like a dog.

Walking down the corridor, you could feel Dazai’s shoulder brushing yours every once in a while, his steps were prominent in your ears and his cologne overwhelmed your sense of smell for a moment. You hated that he actually smelled good on top of already being gifted with good looks. “I can’t believe I’ll be stuck with you,” you groaned and opened the file, the number of the mission greeting you in thick writing. Dazai pouted, let his shoulders fall and shoved his hands into his pockets. “You can be so mean and all I did was breathe.”

As you read through the content, you stopped dead in your tracks and broke out in a cold sweat. Eyes widened, a lump found home in your throat while your fingers were shaking. This couldn’t be true, right? Everything had to be the universe pulling a joke on you, an illusion which you were stuck in. You had suspected that your past would catch up to you, but everything came at once. Never in your entire life did you desire to see this hellish place, again. Dazai stopped several steps ahead of you as he noticed you were no longer following him. “Hm? What’s wrong?”

“Several mafiosi have been murdered at the abandoned hospital..”

A wicked smirk was stretched across Dazai’s lips, his gaze bore into your shaky form and a chuckle spilled from deep within his chest. This mission would definitely be more interesting than the previous ones which caused excitement to fill Dazai’s lungs bit by bit. It wasn’t every day that someone dared to attack the mafia’s men, it wasn’t every day that a stranger joined the organization and it certainly wasn’t usual for Mori to get an innocent citizen killed.

“The only place in Yokohama which is half burned and half frozen. Looks like you have a past with our target, [Name].”

#bungou stray dogs #bsd #bungou stray dogs x reader #dazai osamu #dazai x reader #dazai osamu x reader #fic: gasoline

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