The building was barely standing—graffiti-stained walls, broken windows, a rotting ceiling that creaked with every gust of wind. Chuuya walked beside Dazai in silence, the only sounds coming from their boots scuffing over cracked tile and the occasional drip of water from a rusted pipe. Dust clung to the air like fog, and something about the atmosphere made Chuuya’s skin crawl, instincts prickling. He glanced at Dazai, who didn’t seem concerned in the slightest, idly scanning their surroundings like it was just another lazy afternoon.

They were halfway through a long hallway when a faint hiss broke through the silence—so soft it almost went unnoticed. Then it happened. A sharp thwip. Chuuya turned just in time to see a dart embed itself in Dazai’s upper arm.

Chuuya: “Dazai—?!”

Dazai’s face twisted in confusion, his mouth opening to speak before the color drained from it. His knees buckled a second later. Chuuya lunged, catching him awkwardly before he could slam to the ground. Dazai’s limbs were already going limp, his usually sharp gaze dulling with unnatural speed.

Dazai: “…Tch. Should’ve known this place was too quiet…”

His voice was sluggish, barely above a murmur. Chuuya grit his teeth, eyes darting up toward the shadows beyond the hallway. They were being watched—someone had set them up. He held Dazai closer, heart pounding. The idiot had no defenses against this kind of thing without his ability on alert.

Chuuya: “Oi, stay with me, Dazai—! Don’t you pass out on me, you damn idiot!”

But Dazai’s eyes rolled shut before Chuuya could get another word in. Rage burned beneath Chuuya’s skin as he slipped Dazai over his shoulder, scanning for cover while trying to steady his breathing. Whoever did this was going to regret ever touching him.

Chuuya: “You’re gonna be fine, dumbass… Just hang on.”