Chapter Text
Dazai knew Chuuya had infiltrated the prison; not that he so much knew right away, but sensed it. Felt it in his bones and in his heart, because if there's anyone he can pinpoint through boundless time and space, it's him. His partner until whatever fatal end should meet them and this world of vampires.
"A pawn of Dostoevsky" .... That had been his words as Sigma lays eyes on Chuuya for the first time after such a dramatic entrance — always such the dramatic entrance, Dazai can only suppress his chuckle with a grin.
Watching him flaunt Sigma around, waltzing around the prison and teasing him oh so playfully, all had gone according to plan, ensuring Chuuya had been part of their audience. His heart swells at the thought of watching Nakahara burn; burn with jealousy as he witnessed him twirl with this beautiful stranger in a dance he swung Chuuya into once upon a time ago as well. Stare cold as ice, Dazai can't help but smirk in Chuuya's direction, knowing the heartache that pains behind those inhumane eyes.
That's it, Dazai can't help but to silently coax it on in thought. Get angry, come after me. Tear this boy apart too for all I care; knock Fyodor's own pawn and run into my embrace, return to me on my side of the board. My dog is my pawn, after all, so I should hope he'd come running back to his master as one should.
And yet, one of few emotions Dazai can't control or manipulate to his own liking, he can't help but experience a sense of anger and jealousy like his own karma.
Both pairs stand across from each other after Nikolai's vanishing, ready to partake in a two-on-two battle. For a quick moment of strategy, Dazai hardly needed it; all he commanded of Sigma was this:
"You want your revenge, right?" Dazai had smiled, if you could even call such an evil expression as such. "You want your freedom from being used as a pawn by us?"
Sigma is weary, that much is written on the expression of someone who so naively wears their every emotion on their face, clear as day. And yet he doesn't falter from Dazai's gaze; he holds it confidently, because to be finally free and find home in somewhere is all that matters to him now.
"Well then," Dazai says without needing more clarity than that, "Go after Fyodor then. He is your boss, right? Show him no mercy, I won't intervene. We're both poisoned and fated to die very soon anyhow, so even if you can stall him for that long, all the work will be done for you and yet still take all the credit of being the one who finally put an end to big bad Dostoevsky. What an honor that would be to uphold, huh?"
This response, it surprises Sigma. Baffles him, actually, because why would he..?
"You... You don't want to be the one to stop him? What about your rivalry all this time?"
Dazai smiles to himself, softer this time; sickeningly sympathetic actually, or maybe Sigma is just reading into it a little much. No, a man like that, it couldn't be possible; him and Fyodor, neither of them have the capacity to feel a thing. The two of them, they're one in the same, both making such a mockery out of him.
And yet...
"Wait... how can you be so certain about there being an intruder?"
"Easy. The angels whispered to me."
"Angels? What are you talking about?"
"It can be nobody but one person."
No, he must of imagined it. He's messing with his head, is all. Pawns of Fyodor, pawns of Dazai, at least that's what thing Sigma and Chuuya have in common; the masterminds who control them, neither one of them give a damn what happens to them at the end of the day. They're nothing more than a worthless casualty.
As thoughts of Mori, thoughts of his own past of being used and forever homeless, fade from mind, Dazai is back on track; screwed his head back on before he let's the pain in his gut get the better of him.
"Well then, you know what you have to do. As for Fyodor's new little pet" — Dazai's eyes narrow in the pair's direction with the angriest of smiles, watching Fyodor take Chuuya's jaw into his hand as he muttered in a whisper not even they could eavesdrop on, the blood Nakahara choked up dripping from the bastard's cold, pale hands — "You leave him in my care alone. The angel spoke, and now I've got a call to respond to."
"God, you're weird," Sigma huffs, slyering over at Dazai as the man urkingly giggles as if this situation were any bit amusing. "Has anyone ever told you how much of a pest you are?"
"Far too many times," Osamu can only smile oh so fondly from across the prison, knowing those eyes so black in it's fight for life had never strayed from him for a second since such a terrible reuniting. "It's a shame, really, that I miss it like hell."
"So you're a masochist then?"
"You could say that," Dazai hums, anticipating the look on Sigma's face when he should see him getting the shit kicked out of him without raising a single finger in resistance.
The time for playing now over, Osamu shields his emotions once more, returning Fyodor's smirk with a battle-ready one of his own.
Let the games begin.