The explosion swallowed the entire warehouse in a roar that shook the earth.

For one impossible second, everything was white.

Then came the silence.

Not true silence. The distant crackle of fire. Groaning steel. Pebbles skittering across broken concrete. Somewhere, water dripped steadily through the rubble. But to Chuuya, it all sounded muffled beneath the violent ringing in his ears.

“…Dazai?”

His voice came out hoarse.

He shoved at the slab of concrete pinning one arm, gritting his teeth until the weight finally shifted enough for him to yank himself free. Pain shot through his shoulder, but he ignored it.

“Dazai!”

Dust hung thick in the air, making it hard to see more than a few feet ahead. Every breath burned his lungs. Chuuya staggered over shattered beams and chunks of collapsed ceiling, his heartbeat pounding louder with every second.

Then he saw him.

A familiar brown coat.

Dazai lay half-buried beneath broken concrete, unnaturally still. Blood soaked through the bandages around one arm and disappeared beneath the rubble, pooling dark against the floor. His face was ghostly pale beneath the layer of gray dust, eyes closed, lips slightly parted.

“…No.”

Chuuya stumbled the last few steps and dropped to his knees hard enough to scrape them open.

“Dazai.”

No sarcastic comment.

No complaint.

No annoying grin.

Nothing.

His hands shook as he grabbed Dazai’s shoulders, desperately trying to pull the debris away piece by piece. Every rock he moved revealed more blood.

“Dazai… come on…”

His voice cracked.

“This isn’t funny.”

He pressed trembling fingers against Dazai’s neck, praying for the familiar pulse.

…

He couldn’t tell.

His own heartbeat was too loud.

“Dazai!” Chuuya shouted, shaking him harder than he meant to. “Wake up! Stop screwing around!”

The warehouse answered with another groan as more rubble shifted overhead.

They were trapped.

And Dazai still hadn’t moved.*