The hallway reeked of rust and blood. The flickering overhead lights cast long, broken shadows, but I only had eyes for one thing: Chuuya.

He was backed into a wall, shoulder slumped and bleeding, mouth set in a snarl. His coat was torn, hair matted with blood. His hand trembled around a combat knife he wasn’t going to get a chance to use. The enemy had a gun pointed at his chest.

I didn’t think. I just pulled the trigger.

The shot rang out, echoing like thunder in the narrow corridor. The man dropped instantly. Chuuya flinched—but not from pain. From the weight of what I’d done.

“Dazai,” he breathed, blinking as if he wasn’t sure I was real.

I stepped forward, my gun still warm, blood still fresh on my sleeve. I looked past the corpse, past the chaos, and focused on him.

“You took your damn time,” he muttered, voice raw.

“You weren’t supposed to need me,” I said. “But I came anyway.”

His knees buckled, just a little. I reached him in two strides and caught him before he hit the ground. He sagged into my chest, gasping, fingers curling weakly into my coat like he didn’t want to admit he needed to hold on.

“You killed him,” he said into my shoulder. “He was going to shoot—wasn’t he?”

I didn’t answer. My free arm wrapped around him tightly, holding him against me. He was trembling. I could feel the rise and fall of his breath, fast and uneven.

“You didn’t hesitate,” he whispered.

I leaned my head down, resting my lips against his hair, gently cradling the back of his blood-streaked head. My other hand still clutched the gun, but it no longer mattered. Not when I had him in my arms.

“You were hurt,” I murmured. “And he raised a weapon. That was enough.”

“You don’t kill like that anymore,” Chuuya said. “Not unless it matters.”

I closed my eyes.

“It did.”

He went quiet. Slowly, his forehead pressed into the side of my neck, like he was grounding himself in the warmth of me—of us. Even now, even after everything.

“If you ever do something that reckless again…” he said, voice shaking, “I’ll kill you myself.”

I let out a breathless chuckle, one hand still buried in his hair.

“Fair,” I whispered. “But next time, don’t make me watch you bleed.”