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[indensity]

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[1/3] around 2-3 days after the apartment is claimed

[neverwashere]

[This first starts with IMAGE: not quite darkness, a faint impression of light. It's the back of Dazai's eyelids]

- went something like this.

[2/3]

[neverwashere]

[After a brief period of silence, the IMAGE is replaced by only the sound of Dazai's VOICE, the tone sarcastic and annoyed.]

Truly a formidable test of concentration. Surely monks would have an easier time of this if instead of directing meditative thought inward, they'd focus on sending this externally but -

While it's a good exercise in mental discipline and focus, why they haven't bothered to upgrade their means of communication with magitech is ridiculously inconvenient - ohhhh. Right!

[the last words were sharp, accompanied with a faint sense of self-directed irritation.]

But honestly, this is far from optimal in emergencies. How can they even tell an emergency broadcast works if they're running for their lives, inches away from being skewered by a rhino! [this is accompanied by the appropriate mental image of just the front profile of a rhino's horn surrounded by darkness.]

Mental multitasking in that kind of situation isn't the best - the most anyone unused to that would send might be something like a messed up scramble of visions, words, obnoxiously obvious panic, and woe is me someone help I can't breathe ahhhh.

Forming and projecting the words themselves can be a point of concentration, of course -

[3/3]

[neverwashere]

[A last swap to IMAGE, showing Dazai planting his face on a table in front of a messily wiped-down mirror.]

Chuuya this suuuuuucks bug someone to invent phones already so I don't need to keep doing this.

[1/?]

[indensity]

[There are flashes of buildings, of the cobbled streets as he jumps over an ice patch, of people as Chuuya dodges around them. He’s trying not to project anything, but he doesn’t have a grip on this yet, and as soon as his focus is on anything else, images and thoughts start to slip through. ]

Shit, it’s cold. Even colder today.

[Wait. He shouldn’t send that thought at Dazai. There’s a flash of annoyance, and then silence as he listens to his ex-partner’s rambles.

A coffee shop appears briefly, together with some longing. It would be warm. But he has to finish his run.]

[indensity]

[But is it really necessary to keep rambling for so long? It’s distracting! And he doesn’t even care!]

Shut up, Dazai. [And then:] Shut up. Shut up. Shut up.

[He keeps sending just that thought in the hopes of drowning Dazai out, thinking it louder and louder and louder.

And then, just to see if he can, he sends he image of a fist flying straight at Dazai’s head. He actually punches the air at the same time, to help himself focus on the thought, and nearly scares the shit out of a man who’s walking a little too close. Oh well. Not his problem.]

[indensity]

[Finally, he has to slow down a little. Running and trying to figure out telepathy at the same time ha demanding too much focus when the ground is slippery. ]

Why would I want you to have a phone? You just hang up on me.

[4/4]

[indensity]

[Wait. A little belatedly. ]

Maybe then I’d finally get some peace.

[Because it’s not like he wants to talk, or anything.]

[1/?]

[neverwashere]

[Unfortunately for Chuuya, Dazai's mind is a rather busy place. He looks up from the table and grins at himself the mirror.]

Ohh so it worked! [A flash of smugness from Dazai's end, cut short with annoyance at the reminder that his internal monologue is actually audible, and -]

[2/?]

[neverwashere]

[The connection is briefly cut.

When the IMAGE returns, it's just Dazai against a dark background, with flashes of ambient noise every now and then. His smile held a hint of irritation.

In the off chance anyone broke in and headed to the kitchen without Dazai hearing them, they'd find him lying on the floor next to an upended chair, eyes closed.]

There has to be a better way of doing this. [Distantly,] That ice looks rather slippery.

[The image cuts abruptly to one of Dazai, wide-eyed and pale, lying in the snow, neck twisted at an odd angle, a pool of blood spreading from the back of his head. It's an obvious exaggeration -]

[3/3]

[neverwashere]

[A second disconnection.

Then he was back to VOICE.

Dazai sounded normal.]

Who says the phone was for you?

[1/2]

[indensity]

[Chuuya’s reaction to that image is instant: panic and worry and urgency. He speeds up at once, turning to run straight back to their house, as fast as he can. ]

Where are you?

[Wasn’t he home just a moment ago? Chuuya is pretty sure Dazai was back home a moment ago. But it doesn’t matter if the image is real or not, he has to hurry back just in case.

The panic is almost overwhelming, and he’s making no effort to keep Dazai from feeling it too. ]

[2/2]

[indensity]

[And then Dazai talks, and even though Chuuya can’t see him, he’s clearly not bleeding out on the ground. He sounds fine.

He stops abruptly, and then has to go lean against a nearby wal as he calms his breathing. His heart is beating at a million miles per minute.]

What the hell was that?!

[He’s trying to project anger, but the feeling that comes across is still almost pure concern.]

What are you doing? Where are you?

[neverwashere]

Calm down.

[IMAGE. Dazai was still lying on the kitchen floor, holding up the mirror to his face as he mouthed his message. His expression was closed off.]

Continue your run. It wasn't real.

sometime on Feb 14 | Image

[neverwashere]

[Sometime after Dazai got chocolate was a good moment to bug his ex-partner.

Dazai was lying on his bed, back propped up with pillows, lying on an arm, and tossing chocolate into his mouth.]

Chuuyaaaaaa. 'm bored.

image

[indensity]

[Chuuya is just downstairs, making himself a post-exercise protein smoothie. It doesn't even have chocolate in it.]

So get out of bed and do something. Go for a run.

[1/2]

[neverwashere]

[2/2]

[neverwashere]

Don't wanna. [A dismissive gesture, his fingers holding up another piece.] It's cold and crowded.

[He hasn't gone out to wander for the day.]

[indensity]

Then be bored.

[Why is this his problem???]

[neverwashere]

But it's a boring kind of boredom. Lacking taste, like your smoothie.

[Because Chuuya didn't run when he had the chance.]

[indensity]

This smoothie isn't that bad. It has honey. [Remember the honey he stole?] Besides, I'm not making it because I want a good meal!

[He has to have something because he worked out!! But he doesn't feel like spending time cooking anything now.]

[forward dated to April 29]

[neverwashere]

[Breaking and entering, Dazai edition: the invaded room is in the same building he was in, and old fashioned door and wardrobe locks are no match for his picking skills.

One item swap later, Dazai was out again. Item lost: one (1) jug of whiskey (less than a litre). Item gained: one (1) Chuuya doll (featuring creepy moving eyes).

Actual Chuuya would not miss the doll (indeed, it was the only thing different in his collection of clothes, workout equipment, and booze), but it was the perceived theft that counted.

Too bad the doll's watchfulness was displeasing enough that Dazai would have to blindfold it. For something that looked like his ex-partner, it was almost adorable.]

[indensity]

[It had taken Chuuya a while to realize his birthday was coming up, since it had still been a while off back in Yokohama, and they called the months different things here. But it was spring, and he'd wondered, and it had only taken him a second to figure out that yes, technically, in this world it was now April 29th.

A day to celebrate.

He'd never placed that much importance in it himself. A lack of memories of it will do that to you. But since he'd finally figured it out, some time after joining the mafia, Kouyou had always insited on doing something for it. She'd give him a gift, they'd have dinner, and they'd go out drinking with some of the other mafia members. None of them were here, and it was just another reminder that he was stuck somewhere he didn't want to be.

Chuuya had spent the day working out, pushing himself way past the point of exhaustion. He'd stumbled back to their shared house on shaky legs, basically collapsed into the shower, and only resurfaced from under the scalding hot spray nearly an hour later. Now, he wanted to get drunk.

Except that whisky bottle definitely wasn't his.]

HEY, ASSHOLE! [Has Dazai been drinking in his room? No, even drunk he wouldn't leave evidence unless he wanted it found. Wait-] Wait a second, did you--

[No, no, no. Don't call him out on it if he left it for him. That's Dazai 101.]

Did you order dinner?

[Nice save.]

[neverwashere]

[There was a lump of blue blanket on the new couch downstairs.

The couch was wonderful - dark gray, comfortable, long enough to fit tall people lazing on it. Came with nice green and blue throw pillows and a blanket, all thanks to Chuuya's need to include color.

But back to the blanket lump. A whining noise came from somewhere in its folds. Clearly, anyone should be able to distinguish what that meant.]

[indensity]

[That meant no dinner.

Chuuya didn't actually care about that, it was just the first thing that had come to mind. He headed for the kitchen to fetch two glasses, then went to sit in the armchair opposite the couch. He pulled his legs up to curl up in the seat, stretched to set one glass on the table, poured two fingers into it, and then poured twice as much into his own glass.

A drink, that's what he needed.

Although why would Dazai have left him a bottle? He watched the couch lump as he drank, feeling confused.]

[neverwashere]

[Stew in your confusion Chuuya, you won't get answers outright.

The smell of whiskey was enticing, and Dazai blearily poked his head out of the blanket.]

Not wine today? My, my, being away from your wine racks finally spurred you to broaden your tastes.