#I still have hashihime demons

[betaboks]

Wrote something for Odango week on Twitter!

Day 6 - Odango in any AU

[siverfanweedo]

Hashihime line for Kijyo Koyo? Since both of them are Kijyos (Oni Woman or Demon Woman in English)

“Seems like there is more then one Kiyo here...I don’t think the two of us would have anything more then that in common” 

I still have to learn more about Kiyo Koyo and i also haven’t done much voice line writing with Hashihime so i hope this is okay. also i can’t wait until next year when Kiyo Koyo is added to na i def am hoping i can get her.

[ol-razzle-dazazzle]

The Bridges We Cannot Cross- Chapter 1: Going Under an Overpass

Hoo boy we got a dazatsu hashihime au here folks! This chapter is a little bit shorter because…it’s gonna be a multi-chapter fic! (That I’ll hopefully goatdamn finish) honestly I’ve spent days schemeing this au so if y'all like it ask me and talk to me about it because b ru h

A hashihime, youkai that was told of in old legends. A youkai that was so consumed by envy in their heart that they performed a curse, becoming a guardian of a river. Any who cross in love shall be killed, out of spite.

Atsushi knows this, because the man before him is one.

A few moments ago, he was finding a place to sleep, settling his sights under a bridge, a simple, cold floor. Atsushi tentatively crossed, looking around for any passerby.

He felt a hand ghost on his shoulder.

Atsushi whipped around, “W-Who’s there?!” Despite it being late at night, he considered himself someone with good night vision, a needed trait he picked up from his orphanage. Eyes waited, the grip tightened, but nothing felt.

He sighed, “I must be getting delusional from hunger pain.” His body dragged itself further, disregarding a flicker of light from the river. Atsushi clamoured down, wincing at his weakening strength, as he collapsed on the ground with a yelp.

Atsushi groans, and feels himself get raised up, out of his collapsed state, he feels water splash onto his hand, as he shifts himself into the cover of the bridge with a sigh.

His eyes flutter open, the soft rain obscuring shilouettes. A flicker of flames is muffled in the rain, his mouth opening for words. Words failed him, dry lips coughing.

“/What are you doing here?/” a question that popped into the open of Atsushi’s head. His face tightened, looking down.

“I don’t know…I’m not meant to be here.”

“You’re right. You know you should never cro-”

“I know I shouldn’t be alive.”

The gray ground Atsushi set his eyes open had white trickling in his vision. His eyes slowly moved up the white robes…

“W-What are /you/ doing here?!” Atsushi stammered, his eyes looking at another set of tired ones, pools of brown that were more like voids of an escaped humanity, where light may never enter.

Speaking of light…embers that billowed a ghostly glow set atop the other figure’s head, five candles dripping wax that never seemed to fall anywhere.

“Y-You’re going to set yourself on fire!” Atsushi reached a hand to knock it away, as the other took a step back.

“I wouldn’t worry about that…after all, we’re right next to a river.” A misty laugh, unsettling but comforting to Atsushi’s ears. Even more so as thin pale hands set the candle sticks down.

The figure murmured, words echoing though muffled with the soft rain. “I thought there’d be a warning sign or rumours about this bridge, right…?” Those eyes draw out words.

“Atsushi. And well…yes, but I figured that there’d be less people here.” A sigh, “and…I’m on my last legs here, really.” Guilt reminded Atsushi not to guilt trip him, “Do you live here? I mean I don’t want to impose or any-”

“I’m the reason that no one’s supposed to be here.” Words that sent a further chill up Atsushi’s spine, but were stated as if they were merely the weather.

“Because here is the resting, place of Osamu Dazai, who cursed all and drowned himself.” Dazai glances back, a smile. “In this very river.”

Atsushi felt a hitch in his throat, nervous laughter. “So uh…how did that work out for you, Dazai?” He was alive, right? Or dead?

“Rather poorly I have to admit.” Dazai’s arms stretched out, revealing their bandages. “Instead of going ‘upstairs’ or ‘downstairs’ I’m still here. As a demon, no less.” A glance to the flames.

“D-Demons, you say?” Of all the times Atsushi was half-dead, this was the most…interesting. Surprisingly, not the most terrifying. Shockingly, he could probably name ten more horrifying incidents.

“Demon, youkai, vengeful spirit.” He hummed in thought, “a hashihime.”

“Hashihime?”

“Well…I can’t be a ghost, right?” Dazai pokes the other man’s shoulder. “See? Didn’t go through. And I didn’t exactly drown myself while wearing candles on my head, because that would be counter-intuitive. I…used to be human, just barely. So that’s the only option… right?”

Atsushi slowly nodded, “Right…”

“That and I feel a greater urge to kill couples walking across more than ever…” Dazai shrugs. “Well, it can’t be helped.”

“Ummm… yes it can?!” Atsushi called out, completely incredulous to the whole situation.

“How so?”

“…” Atsushi’s face tinged red, mind scouring for some idea. “Jeez…I don’t know…true love’s kiss?” A sheepish smile. He remembered some long forgotten stories in the orphanage recounting such tales, that even in a loveless world such as that place love would supposedly prevail.

“A loving kiss?” Dazai raised an eyebrow.

“You didn’t exactly give me much time here.” Atsushi defended.

Dazai stifled his laughter, waving a hand dismissively. “No, no! I mean… one has to exhaust all the options, right?”

“I guess…?” At the very least he wasn’t going to die, and come to think of it…actually not being treated like scum by someone actually felt rather nice, if only it had the side effect of having Atsushi’s heart beat more prominently in his chest.

“Then that settles it!” Dazai claps his hands together. “You, Atsushi…”

“Nakajima.”

“You, Atsushi Nakajima, will assist me to get out of this state! Do you think you can do that for me?”

“If I don’t die of starvation, I don’t see why not.”

“A dead man’s bank account means nothing to him anymore, so that’s a yes.”

A man close to death and a man who desires it, like constellations west of the night sky ebbing together with the sea when one closes their eyes. Two people who fancied that this would be the harbinger of the end of their lives.

Little did they know, it was the beginning of another.

And as they rested with the stars and rain above them, the candles dimmed, kindling a different ember in ones soul, if there is such a thing.

[lyricalive]

A forbidden ritual can sever the tie between two cold hearts.

——What kind of ritual can bridge the gap between two hot heads?

羨望横断 〜 Unenviable Crossroads

#01  The Bridge People No Longer Cross

    – “It’s so late...  I’m getting sleepy.”

The heavy-eyed college student covered an exaggerated yawn with the palm of her hand.

Her companion in black tilted her head toward the star-studded night sky.

    – “2:16 and 42 seconds.  Come on, Merry, we’ve been out later than this before!”

Renko Usami and Maribel Hearn (Merry) had embarked on yet another Secret Sealing Club investigation along the fringes of Kyoto.  Their feet were presently planted on a rickety bridge, once a well-traveled crossroads by people of ancient days, long since out of service.

    – “I know.  I was sleepy then, too.”

    – “It can’t be helped.  The hours of the ox are between 1 o’clock and 3.  According to my research, the greatest activity happens now.”

Lagging behind, Merry lifted the edges of her violet dress to take careful steps across the splintered planks.  However, she was interrupted by a rustling sound coming from her left.

    – “Oh my.  What is this little bird doing out so long after nightfall?”

Renko turned around to see the commotion.  Her partner was gazing with concern at the side rails of the bridge.  Stuck in the crooked woodwork, a small sparrow let out a mournful chirp.

    – “Poor thing!  Let’s help it get free.”

With a simple nudge of the fencing, they created just enough space for the bird to wriggle free.   They watched it flap its wings and begin to fly, taking off in the same direction as the girls were heading.

    – “There it goes.”

    – “Too bad.  No thank-you present this time.”

She recalled the classic folk tale of the Tongue-Cut Sparrow, wherein an old man showed kindness to a bird that his wife had abused.  Upon parting, he was allowed to choose a reward.

    – “If it offered one, would you choose the large box or the small box?”

    – “The small one.”

    – “How humble of you.”

    – “Well, to take the large box, you’d have to be not only greedy but also not very smart.  Something can have high volume but low mass.  Moreover, something can have high mass but low value.”

    – “Good answer.  A setup like that is a clear test any way you look at it.”

    – “See, I’m not as dense as I look.  Still, while meeting a youkai bird would be a reward in itself, it sure would be nice to find a rare item inside the box.”

    – “Perhaps it could lay a cowrie shell for you?  No, that would have to be a swallow.”

Feeling proud of their good deed, the two continued their journey to the end of the bridge and into a quiet neighborhood, across two blocks of paved street.  The area was surprisingly urban, but clearly deserted.  A silent wind blew specks of dust across the beams of streetlights.

At last they arrived at their destination in front of a rusty iron gate.

    – “Here we are.”

    – “So this is the Hashihime Shrine.”

Merry, the club member whose senses were more attuned to spiritual phenomena, could not perceive anything particularly powerful about the place -- yet.

    – “This shrine used to be dedicated to the bridge princess of Uji, who was consumed by jealousy and turned herself into a demon to get revenge.”

    – “I feel sorry for her, but that’s an awfully extreme way to hold a grudge.”

    – “Right?  You would think she understands the concept of ‘water under the bridge.’”

    – “Anyway, Renko, you told me you’ve already been here alone before.  Why do you think today will be different?”

    – “I don’t know.  Something interesting always happens when you’re around, Merry!”

    – “Interesting, huh...”

After an incident so interesting that it had left Merry recovering in a sanatorium, she never knew what to expect.  Tonight’s excursion was only intended to collect information, but still a hint of anxiety rose in her throat.

Renko straightened her hat with one hand and extended the other to her partner.

    – “Shall we?”

The gate creaked open, and the two maidens made their entrance.

#02  Green-Eyed Jealousy

The meager block of shrine ground could have been no wider than a festival stall.  Very little was left under the roof of the altar but a worn-down offering box.  Renko excitedly approached.

    – “Ah, could that be my small box?”

    – “Are you really going to pry that open?”

    – “...It’s empty.”

    – “A tragic plot twist.”

    – “Well, it doesn’t look like anyone comes to visit anymore.  Except the birds that live in this tree.”

Beside the altar stood a large red cedar tree with sprawling branches.  The texture of the bark appeared somewhat unnatural.  Its thick trunk was littered with dozens of small holes, haphazardly arranged but of uniform size.

    – “What a spooky home.  I think I’d have rather stayed stuck on the bridge if I were that one.”

    – “More importantly, I wonder what’s been making these holes...”

The two remained attached to each other’s sides as they began their investigation.  Compared to even directly outside, the ambience within the space of the shrine was very different.  The close quarters encouraged a claustrophobic mood and multiplied the shadows.

Merry suddenly jerked her head.

From somewhere in the distance, a sharp sound rang out in her ears.

    – “Renko, did you hear that?”

    –  “What?  I don’t hear anything.”

It rang out once again, subtly louder.

    – “It’s the sound of metal.  Like a hammer pounding against a nail.”

    – “Where could it be coming from?  There’s no one here, right?”

They held their breaths and listened.  The noise continued in a pattern -- slow, rhythmic, ritual.  The volume increased with each hit.

Merry instinctively broke away from Renko’s hand to shield her ears.

    – “It’s getting so loud.  If this keeps up, it’s going to give me a headache.”

    – “...”

Renko had no doubt of her words, but as much as she strained she was unable to make out any such pounding.  She stood still, her fists clenching at her sides.

Frustrating...  If it’s happening, why can’t I hear it too?

Merry meanwhile stared, bewildered, at her oblivious partner.

Why can’t she hear it?  Why is it only me?

At this moment, a barrier split open between them.

The gap was matterless, of indefinable shape, with a vague light shining through.  Certain eyes might be able to make out a vague figure in the light, as in a blot of spilled ink.  The surrounding atmosphere grew hot and humid, as if the thick air from the other side was pouring through.  Overcome with fear, Merry mumbled out her words.

    – “I see it... a gap in the boundary.  I think she can see us too.”    

    – “Where?  Show me...”

She couldn’t bring herself to lift a finger to point, and hardly thought it would make a difference.  It was now nowhere and everywhere.

The air slowly coated the two in uncomfortable feelings, inside and out.

Merry always gets to see things.

Renko always has it easy.

    – “How...”

The harsh noise was still steadily ringing.  Unlike Renko, Merry had no choice but to hear, just as she had no choice but to see the things she saw.  Ironically, her partner’s eyes always seemed to shine with new dreams, while hers had to deal with a difficult reality.  Being pulled exhaustedly along, she wondered, how could someone else manage to maintain that boundless energy?

    – “Why...?”

Renko felt a pang in the pit of her stomach.  When she was with Merry, they came so close to answers, but they were still so far.  Sometimes it felt as if her presence added nothing in comparison, and in her place could have well been anyone else.  Instead of merely counting the hours as they ticked away, she wondered, why was someone else born into such an exciting world?

    – “Nngh...”

Merry was desperately clutching at her head, simultaneously trying to trap something in and drive something out.

But... it’s not really fair of me to be thinking this now, is it?  She looks like she’s in pain...!

What am I thinking, at a time like this?  It isn’t her fault...

The first girl’s legs began to tremble, threatening to give out under her, forcing the other out of her paralysis.

    – “Merry!”

Renko dashed toward her and threw her arms around her shoulders, breaking her fall just before her knees collapsed on the dry grass.

    – “...”

    – “...”

Abruptly, there was silence.  The air returned to normal.  The gap in the boundary disappeared.

The two girls rested, forehead to forehead, waiting for each of their hearts to stop racing.

    – “Ah...  It’s over.”

Renko, remembering her role, took a deep breath and lifted her head skyward.

    – “3 o’clock sharp.”

#03  Energy Daybreak ~ Future Dream

The two girls gathered themselves and exited the premises, shutting the gate behind them.  No trains would be running for another hour, so there was no use in hurrying their walk back to the station.  They were stuck wandering until the morning sun broke.

No one would ever know what transpired that night, if anything did at all.  As recorded in the club activity log, the only evidence left behind was a single extra hole in the trunk of the old tree.

During their return trip across the bridge, the girl whose black clothes blended into the night was rambling all manner of commentary and theories about the shrine.  Merry listened, though her face was downturned with guilt.

    – “...and the biggest thing I wanted to say was--”

    – “?”

She was snapped out of her daze, as Renko stopped herself mid-sentence and clapped her hands together in a flamboyant yet sincere display of humility.

    – “Merry... I’m really sorry.”

    – “Huh?  I’m the one who should be sorry. I was having horrible thoughts back there.”

    – “Me too. I don’t know what came over me.  I should have been focused on helping you sooner.”

    – “I can guess what happened.  Our emotions were being manipulated.”

    – “Of course...  That’s what this sort of youkai do, isn’t it?  How unpleasant.”

It would be easier, Merry considered, to leave it at that.  However, she couldn’t manage to stop thinking about it.  Spirits were able to project their own feelings and intensify others’, bringing out the worst in people.  But it was difficult to build upon something without any foundation at all.  In the dreamer’s mind, allowing those emotions of resentment to take life was a sin in itself.

Merry whispered the confession into her chest.

    – “What if... those feelings are somewhat true?”

    – “Hm?  So what if they are?”

    – “Eh?”

She was taken aback by the quickness of the reply.

    – “Jealousy... and fear.  Is that what you’re worried about?”

    – “Yes...  So that means you also...”  

    – “I think, people like you put a bit too much stock in feeling.  Only the ones you decide to act on are really important.”

    – “Is that so?”

Certainly, emotions were necessary.  Youkai would not exist if not for the manifestation of emotions.  In the physicist’s mind, the sin she had committed was not the emotion she felt but her lack of control over it.  Her envy of her partner’s eyes was nothing new, and was rather something she wanted to use to grow closer.

    – “That’s right...  I’ll act on yours, too.  Next time, I’ll be sure to protect Merry no matter what!  So don’t worry about it!”

Renko’s carefree smile was contagious.

    – “Hmhm.  Then I suppose we’re both forgiven.  No need to turn into demons.”

Though her fear was genuine, there was no wish in Merry’s heart to stop their club activities.  Rather than negative emotions being sealed beneath the surface, they would come to the conclusion that it was best to use them as motivation.

    – “Speaking of which... the bridge princess is so caught up in her feelings, but maybe if she put some effort into being friendly to people, she wouldn’t be so lonely!”

Merry glanced nervously back toward the shrine behind them.

    – “That’s a bridge too far.  Please don’t provoke her more than necessary.  I think just being there was enough to set her off.”

    – “You know what?  That was definitely it!”

    – “What was it?”

    – “She didn’t show up to me alone, but she showed up because we were there together.”

    – “I see.  So that was what triggered her jealousy.”

    – “After all, anyone would be jealous of what a great pair we are.  We’re the two-for-one Secret Sealing Club!”

As sunrise drew closer, the faraway voice of a bird began to sing for them.

    – “So... do you want to go back sometime?”

Merry narrowed her eyes and squeezed Renko’s hand with a force measurable somewhere between affection and chastisement.

    – “We can talk about that later.”

Afterwords

Greetings, it’s probably not ZUN.  I wouldn’t be surprised if this sort of cliché has been done and overdone, starting after Neo-Traditionalism of Japan came out, wherein this type of feeling about each other’s ability was directly suggested.  It seems as if I’m going backwards in the logical progression of their relationship after already writing them as super shamelessly lovey-dovey -- though, you know, it’s not like jealousy is mutually exclusive with closeness.

When I thought of the idea, I felt it was personally meaningful for me to do something with it.  Even being in a wonderful relationship with someone who does plenty right to avert it, I’m a person with strong feelings of jealousy... and strong feelings about jealousy.  I’ve given up on trying not to feel it, because that might not be possible.  But I make sure to be very aware of when it’s unreasonable, always thinking about the bottom line of what I want to express, which is never anger.  I don’t think it’s something to brush aside, but it’s also not something to let control you.

I feel especially qualified to write this after actually visiting the Hashihime Shrine in Uji, near Kyoto, when I went to Japan in 2015.  I stumbled upon it on a map while looking for something completely different in the area.  Kifune Shrine might have been a grander destination for studying the hashihime and the ushi-no-toki-mairi ritual, but I didn’t know about it at the time.  Although the one I visited was a super tiny place and no one was there (and nothing spooky happened), I was excited to find a place that connected to a Touhou legend.

The memory came rushing back to me while trying to think of a good club activity prompt to use on my Maribel blog, where I indulge myself with trying to make subtle references to every point of Touhou canon ever.  Then I drifted into way too many serious ideas and couldn’t fit them all in, promising myself to write a fuller version later.  Good job, me!  I didn’t break my promise.

By the way, you know how Merry inexplicably has a different eye color on each CD cover?  Of course, she gets thematically green eyes here.  I have a theory that her eyes reflect something she’s seeing across the boundary.

ASA    (People who don’t have five dozen WIPs?  I’m so jealous!)

Hifuu CD-style stories:

»  [Tumblr]  [AO3]  自封夢幻 〜 Sentimental Reverie

»  [Tumblr]  [AO3]  陶然夢幻 〜 Transcendental Revelry

»  [Tumblr]  [AO3]  羨望横断 〜 Unenviable Crossroads

»  [Tumblr]  [AO3]  外来土産 〜 Adventive Reminiscence

»  [Tumblr]  [AO3] 中古技術 〜 Electric Spirit Seance

»  [Tumblr]  [AO3]  幻想惑星直列 〜 Phantasmal Syzygy

[ol-razzle-dazazzle]

The Bridges We Cannot Cross- Chapter 11: 3 and 7, 21 and 28

Hoo this was a toughie to write, trying to get decent pacing. Second last chapter, we got time skips and curses. Enjoy, the last part of the angst.

———————

The first 7 Days:

The first stage of mourning is denial. Dazai denied himself because of self-preservation. He wanted to cling to that feeling of being alive with Atsushi. He walked, trembling, through the length of the bridge- looking over the horizon for Atsushi. He only saw the sky. At the furthest ends he saw a sign, probably restricting anyone further from emerging onto the bridge. It was for the best. After all, he wanted another death unnoticed by anyone. That’s what he wanted the whole time, right? But instead he hesitated, he was pacing about, looking for a lost hope.

With the night sky deluding him with it’s kaleidoscope of colors, he settled for nothing but burning candles and a blackened sea.

*****

Atsushi gathered himself. The first step of anything was preparation, right? Tiresome step upon tiresome step, the hill of an old observatory, the few thing he saw outside his vision, peeking from a window as a lonely child. He remembered hiding under it’s clove for a few weeks before being chased away. It felt so long ago, as if it was a different life. Sure, he didn’t have the usual ‘roof under his head’, but he wasn’t alone, wasn’t clinging to life. He didn’t feel like less than nothing, something he felt for so, so long.

His fingers trailed dusty walls, creating their own stars in the light as they floated. There were torn and tattered books. Surely, surely something about the tiger would be found there.

The second 7 Days:

No such luck. No records were found, even when Atsushi squinted at the faded ink.

His body ached for food and water, but he was doing something right if he hadn’t died yet, right? It seemed dark for too long. Maybe Atsushi had already died. The rusted clocks showed only the same times, driving Atsushi mad. No perception of time, only the smallest perception of space. Looking through that looking glass to map out the stars. One small frame, one small window. It felt like his own time in the orphanage. No, this was different. Old time felt like an absence, nothing to live for, living to strive, only to die alone in the cold. This strange abscence of time, there was something to live for. Some possibility of transcendence, hope in faith that wasn’t created yet.

On second thought, didn’t curses usually require blood?

*****

Dazai didn’t want to do this.

He recounted with a jovial sadness that this is exactly what the two disagreed on. The water felt empty against his skin, pulling him, beckoning him closer. Dazai winced, feeling the old drops of time reminding him. It felt precisely like it, the day he died. That pulling, when he looked up to see nothing there- no light at the end of the tunnel, the dark coldness of death drawling him to his demise.

The candles flickered, persisting in the bubbles of the sea. Dazai recalled them to stars, as they slowly starting burning into his soul.

The third 7 Days:

Blood dripped from Atsushi’s hands. The winces of hunger slowly ebbed away. He realised something. That he could, that he really could do such a thing.

Not a curse, but the opposite. Even if it didn’t work, even if transcending humanity or helping Dazai wouldn’t work, he’d still persist in the usual way. Regret dotted the red on the floor, mapping out his own fate. He would make this. His eyes fixated on the tiger, feeling the human pain quell.

Atsushi couldn’t tell Dazai, because the idea that he would do such a thing would only worsen his condition, if he couldn’t have hope in himself, Atsushi would make him have hope in himself.

*****

The numbness replaced itself with shaking, it felt like each second drained Dazai further.

The night’s blackness chilled him, the setting sun’s orange hue burned him. The only colors he could see was the water around him, skin paling to the rest of his clothes. He yearned for that warm brown coat, Atsushi’s star-yellow eyes with glimmers of purple, colours he lost sight of.

He was losing himself, a worse way for the dead to die.

The last 7 Days:

Atsushi stepped away from the bloody constellation map. 21 days, if he can remember. That had to be enough, right? That was how long the regular curse went for…

He didn’t feel any different at least. The dullness of hunger had waned with each passing night, but aside from that… Weary eyes glanced up at a telescope, a full orb shining down on him. Did he fail?

Atsushi’s eyes stared at the tiger, hoping for something- anything. A meteor, a demon, a tail- but no such thing came. Instead a thought, that he left Dazai alone.

He ran like the wind the stars carried in their paws.

*****

It hurt. It was dull. So long, Dazai had been submerged, at the very least dying the first time was easier. The candle’s wax dripped onto his face, wicks curled over as if they were scattered ashes, burning their light underwater.

He had a creak, as if the bridge was an extension of him. As opposed to some restrictor that harboured his death. He wondered, if after all this pain, he would be able to leave. If he could better possess other people that crossed with their emotions, maybe he could let them linger and scream like strayed ashes in the wind.

The creaking stopped. He wondered if that sign was still up there. If there was a sign that anyone was out there.

Bubbles emerged, but Dazai didn’t breathe. He felt something grab him, dragging him…dragging him…

Up to the sky. Or at least to the surface.

He heard spluttering, human necessity for oxygen.

“D-Dazai!” Atsushi’s hands clung around him, and he thought how long it’s been, but he fell short with his own hesitation. 21 days and only 20 nights…just in time.

Despite Dazai being the one laid down Atsushi coughed and spluttered, and he noticed the dried blood on Atsushi’s arm.

“Are you okay?” A sentence he never thought he, the vengeful hashihime spirit, would say.

“I…missed you.” Atsushi laughed nervously, wrapping his arms around him.

“Why did you leave?” Dazai asked, feeling that warmth return again.

“I needed to do something, I needed to at least…try. It was stupid, I know, it didn’t work…” Tears dappled on Dazai’s shoulder.

“Atsushi…” He mumbled, his eyes widening.

“I’ll never do it again- I never meant to abandon you!” Atsushi choked back a sob.

“It’s fine, but…” “-It’s not fine!”

Dazai sighed, shoving him onto the riverbed.

“You’re glowing, Atsushi.”

“What are you talking about…?” Atsushi raised an eyebrow, slowing his barrage of apologies.

“Literally, look at yourself.”

Atsushi did, and he saw stars dappled on his skin. Dazai found those shining eyes.

[ol-razzle-dazazzle]

The Bridges We Cannot Cross- Chapter 3: Yesterday's Money, Today's Entrance Fee

Sadly this one has less Dazai, but there’s some ssssgood ship stuff at the end, Atsushi panics over adulthood, we see that mole man is here, and it’s a calm before a storm.

——————————–

Money means little to a dead man.

“Dazai, I’m not going to go withdraw money from a bank with your account.” Atsushi shuddered, perhaps it was the wind, or the terror at the thought.

“Why not? I mean, it’s not like anyone’s going to haunt you.” Dazai smiles, a hand moving, revealing a few coins. “Besides, all a dead person needs is pocket change, and a demon? Even less than that.”

Atsushi frowns, “Why would you need it anyway?”

Dazai shrugs, “To most people, all that’s left of a human is numbers, measurements, values. The people I knew that weren’t are…” He trailed off.

“Are what?”

“No, I can’t go on any further!” Dazai flops onto the river bed, “Atsushi, you must go on without me, get some decent clothes and some salt that we can use for our soup, I can’t live much…glug glub glud” his words were replaced by bubbles of diversion.

Atsushi waited. But no answer came.

So he begrudgingly found himself at a bank, and not a river one. He never really was in such a place, why would he? There were random lines everywhere, people walking, lots of them…

“Excuse me, you look lost.” Atsushi turned to see a man befitting of the image of ‘bureaucrat’, glasses and uniform manner.

“I-I’m meant to be here. I…think?” He stammered, holding nothing in his head but numbers of a bank account.

“Most people are uh…better dressed.” An eyebrow quirked, and Atsushi couldn’t help but notice a mole on the other’s face.

“I left my suit in the trash can, I apologise.” He couldn’t help but reply, bowing.

Sure enough, a slight chuckle emerged from the man, causing his features to soften slightly. “Look, this isn’t really my job, but I’ll help you out a little.” The man led Atsushi along a queue, strangely skipping ahead of the others.

“Withdrawal, right?” Atsushi nodded.

“Who’s account?” The words stopped Atsushi, and for the first time it never struck him what kind of life Dazai lived. He drowned himself, so it couldn’t be good right? But he had money, so he had to be somewhat payed for, maybe he had people who cared for him…maybe not.

“Sir, there is a queue.”

“A-Ah right! It’s under…Osamu Dazai?” The expression from the employee didn’t change, whether or not that was an act Atsushi couldn’t be certain. The corner of his eye, he could see the man next to him twitch.

“You…don’t look like him, so I’m afraid you have to give the account details.”

“F-Fair enough?” Atsushi relayed the information, his voice shaking, a sense of guilt seeping into him, only worsened by the stiffness of the man next to him.

“How much is in there anyway…?” Atsushi raised an eyebrow, “For reference…?”

“Confidential, I’m afraid.” The employee shook her head. “How much do you need to withdraw?”

“Uh…” He didn’t want to seem too shady, at least any further, “Maybe…” but he really didn’t want to come back again, what if the other man wouldn’t help him? “100,652 yen?” The number seemed astronomical, and his heart pounded at seeing the confusion on the other’s face.

“A specific amount there, sir… but certainly.” The employee left to retrieve it, as Atsushi turned towards the other man.

“You shouldn’t have that information.” A robotic sentence, one that Atsushi couldn’t tell his rage or sorrow.

“I…I’m sorry?”

A sigh crept from the other’s lips. “How…look, it doesn’t matter.” He looked at his wristwatch, “Dammit…look, you’re probably going to need this, I’m Ango Sakaguchi, and I’m going to have to call you in for questioning someway or another okay?”

“Nokay.” Atsushi smiled sheepishly. “I’d really rather not.”

Ango shuffled around in his jacket pocket, presenting a government badge. “I’d really rather you would.”

“Okay.” Atsushi nodded, unsure of his existence. Just go along with it.

“…Buy yourself something nice, after all, the dead are seen by appearances, aren’t they?” With that Ango walked off, leaving Atsushi in a state of disarray.

“Sir? Your money.”

“It’s not mine, but thank you.” Atsushi blurts out, swiping the envelope away, wanting to race out of the building as fast as he could.

*****

Shopping for the first time alone is a very daunting thing. Especially when you’re questioning your own life.

Atsushi looked around, trying not to 'splurge’, seriously how can suits cost more than a lifetime of bread?! He recounted Dazai’s earlier words, 'To most people, all that’s left of a human is numbers, measurements, values.’ Money. Money always seemed like an abstract control over Atsushi, a vengeful god that dictated how much he would eat in the orphanage.

'The dead are seen by apprearances, aren’t they?’ Appearances…values… he remembers that he used to hear stories of people being buried with all sorts of strange things, coins, gold, furniture, servants (a common threat given to him is that he would be prematurely buried with another corpse). Why did people care about such things? Did Dazai? If he had nothing, Atsushi wouldn’t be able to withdraw anything, did he have a lot?

Well, even if he did, Dazai still drowned himself, so there was some element of depression and dissatisfaction. He was a vengeful spirit, so even if he lived a 'life with values’ he didn’t live a 'valued life’.

Atsushi looked himself in the mirror, examining the white dress shirt and pants. He looked like a different person, a different fate.

Why was he thinking of Dazai as if he was dead? Atsushi frowned. 'If only he was here, knew him’, he /is/ here! That’s why he said that he had even less use for pocket change, right?

Atsushi was shopping with yesterday’s money, money that didn’t matter apart from it’s exchange. Something with no intrinsic value. Out of the corner of his eye he saw a coat, and something stirred within him. Perhaps Dazai couldn’t feel it, or couldn’t care, but he had a new life now, and a different fate with Atsushi, so it would only be fitting he gets something out of this, right? Besides, it was turning to autumn soon, and he’d be…well, the water would be chilly.

Atsushi got some extra ingredients and some salt for a no longer bland crab soup and walked home, changed with his new clothes.

“I’m…home?” Atsushi called out, thankfully not tripping his way to the bridge unlike his first encounter. The word was foreign to his lips, fresh.

“You look… lovely.” Dazai smiled widely. “I couldn’t have picked better myself, though I’m not a suspender person myself they work with you.” Atsushi set the bags down, turning at him.

“Atsushi…?”

He couldn’t exactly formulate words in his mouth. The day had been one mental blur, he didn’t know what to do or think, “…I’m sorry I failed.”

“Failed what?”

“The…kiss. It didn’t do anything.” Atsushi glanced at him. “You had a life before all this, and I couldn’t even help that.” He blurted.

“…So?”

“So…what?”

“Precisely. So what? It’s not your fault. You wanted to try help me.” Dazai set an arm on Atsushi’s shoulder. “You know…when we were together, and just wasting time.” A sigh. “I felt like that was…human. Something that couldn’t be recorded, a…valuable time.”

Time is money. Money is life, and without it you die, and can’t pass onto the next world. But…there’s different types of time isn’t there? Perhaps, the most treasured thing was the grains of golden sand in an hourglass, and how much you spend with someone. That gives intrinsic value.

“…Can we do it again?”

“Try another attempt to turn me back?”

“No. The kiss. Even though it won’t work…I want to do it again.” Atsushi takes Dazai’s hands in his own, blood, life, rushing to his face.

“Of course.” It’s a soft tender touch, a flicker of warmth for a moment.

“Your lips are like a heater.” Dazai chuckles.

“Yours are too cold!” Atsushi defended.

“Well, that’s to be expected, isn’t it?”

“…” Atsushi relinquished the topic, revealing a coat. “I figured you’d need some warming up, and it’s waterproof.” A tongue-in-cheek smile, “As to be expected, right?”

“You’re too much, you know…” Dazai nonetheless takes the coat, wrapping himself in the fabric, glancing at the reflection in the water. “…it’s perfect, but it doesn’t fulfil it’s purpose.”

Atsushi raises an eyebrow, “What?”

“Well it’s draping along the floor, it’s much too big. So instead of 'growing into it’, it’s purpose is to be…” He smirks, enveloping Atsushi in it. “For two people.”

Atsushi stayed in the hashihime’s tender clutches, drowning in the warmth. If time is money, then perhaps spending it this way would be worth every cent.

[ol-razzle-dazazzle]

The Bridges We Cannot Cross- Chapter 4: Four Stitches in Time

I don't have much to say here, except that four is superstitious because it symbolises death. Enough said. ------------------------ Atsushi felt a cold, horrifying chill creeping among his spine. He opened his eyes, and the first thing he saw was a woman fall into the water, sinking... it was but an instant, the shatter of glass lingering ringing in the ears. He felt his stomach turn and his body tightening in fear as he clamoured up to the edge of the bridge. "I...knew...I knew you hated me." A sobbing man mumbles, his arms are open, he shoved her. That alone would've set Atsushi racing, but he heard. "It's hopeless." A light laugh for such a heavy dripping statement. "Tell me, did she hurt you?" A step closer, ghosting along he frazzled man. "You know, you had to do it. Everything passes." A hand grabs a candle, dripping wax and flames on a bridge that did not burn. "She deserved it, you deserved it." A nervous laugh emerged from the other man, as he shifted, standing on the handlebars. "Die here or live a life alone." The words were empty, the candle was cast aside, never to be seen again in the void of the water, that had once seemed so clear, but now so bleak. "But don't you know..." "S-Stop! I-I'll do it..." The man shook, slipping a foot with a cry. Atsushi felt as if he was a ghost, unable to move, unable to speak, unable to- "But you know, humans are always truly alone." "That's not true!" Atsushi cried out, flinging his body and hand out to the man, but it was too late. A splash caused a wave of despair to overcome Atsushi. A scream emerged without his realisation. "Atsushi..." Dazai looks up, and his eyes are like when they first met- pooling voids, white robes again, and embers that threatened to burn the youkai alive. "Dazai...what...what the hell have you done?" Atsushi grabs him by the shoulders, and it feels like static. Water drips above the bridge. "Dazai, why..." "It's what I am." A smile, but only by name. "I was wrong. After everything...it still happens." "What happens?!" "Atsushi..." Dazai weeps, with a smirk. "You know, standing here like this, we almost look like..." No. "We're not alone." Atsushi stopped his hand, concealing a long sharpened needle. His heart pounded in his chest, a sharp pain piercing his abdomen. Blood emerged. Dazai stepped back, shaking. "Atsushi, I..." The needle clattered to the floor, as Atsushi reeled over. "I'm so sorry...I-I..." He reached a hand to settle on comforting the man, but retracted it. "I-I need to go to the hospital." Atsushi staggered up. The wound was a lot better than it could've been...but he still need to go to a hospital. Dazai ran after him, until he felt his soul- if he even had one, until he felt his being feel like it would shatter into a million pieces, stopping just short. As always. The bridge creaked, hissing against him the burden upon him. The river could not comfort, for its bubbles still contained the trapped life of not only the two lives, but the others before them. He was a hashihime, he was no longer human. But considering life, was he ever as such in the first place? Such was fate. Such was murder. ***** Atsushi burst into the hospital doors, uncaring of the normal fear of others that usually crept into him. He'd been stabbed, by the one person that cared about him. The wound was nothing. Atsushi had suffered worse, it wasn't a burn, or hunger. It was the ache in his heart that came with it. Not of shock, but of something akin to the love he felt. As he went under anaesthetic he recalled Dazai's eyes, what was in them? Vengence, hatred? Yes, but why would he hate him? The word came to him in dreamless thought. Fear. Fear not of losing something, but of something that was already lost. Atsushi opens his eyes, but how could he do it so...carelessly? Dazai at least had humanity...or did he? What was it like, his past life? How long did he spend under that bridge? How many other people did he kill? "Don't get up, you'll open your wound." A familiar voice. Atsushi turned, wincing, to see, "Ango?" "I wanted to talk with you soon...but this wasn't exactly the ideal. Well, what better time than the present I guess." An empty laugh and smile, similar to Dazai's own. His glasses were smudged and stained, hands stained with black ink. "How did you know I would get stabbed?" "I didn't. It was probability." "Probability...?" "That I would be here, that you would get hurt, whatever it is. Who even gave you that wound anyway? For record purposes." Atsushi glanced at the sheets below him. "Dazai...-" "How did he-" "I need to know about what happened to him." "Look, most of this stuff is highly classified-" "Oh, so you're just going to let me wander around, to get stabbed again?!" The words echoed through the hospital, until only the soft beeping was heard. Atsushi didn't even have anything attached, why would there be a heart monitor? Ango bit his lip, looking behind him. "...Fine. Not like you have anywhere else to go. Dazai was first and foremost a mafia man..." ***** Dazai felt like drowning. That is to say that he was currently in submersion, for around 7 hours, but knew that it wouldn't make a difference. He had sunk low enough to see the glimmer of bones calcifying, weighing down on him, the people he had killed. Perhaps...if he went deeper, he would see his own corpse, his own bones of who he used to be. Despite the pile, despite the 'double suicides' he knew it would be alone. Of course it would be. It was the reason he was like this in the first place. When he drowned, the last few bubbles floating to the surface. There was no one there, no one to save him. He was fated to die alone. The worst terror, the most nightmarish thing he could conceive after such a brutal life. Fear, hate, loathing for himself and the world. The world turned against him. Envy. Dazai opened his eyes, the empty ocean above him and the pile of death below. He wondered if he deserved it. Of course he did. He got betrayed by the one thing closest to him in life, and he betrayed the one thing closest to him in death. He wept. He wept for the corpses, and he wept for Atsushi. But tears absolved nothing, they only were absorbed in the water. ***** "After everything..." Ango kept going, despite Atsushi's shocked expression. "We decided to end it. If we left, the mafia would kill us anyway, and apart from Odasaku, our records were completely stained." "We decided to meet one last time at a river." Atsushi's eyes widened. "Dazai had nothing to lose, in fact, he was the most accepting of the idea. I had practically every conceivable organisation that would be after me. As for Odasaku...well it was a moment of weakness for him. Understandably, considering everyone he cared about was dead or going to die." "Then how did you..." Atsushi held his tongue. "We all agreed but..." Another empty laugh. "What can I say? I'm a coward." "You're not!" Atsushi gripped his arm. "You...thought you could keep going." "...I guess I did. I don't know, but either way, I was gasping for breath, and I..." Ango stopped himself, trying to gain some composure. "I jumped after one of them, there was only one I could help." "I chose Odasaku." "I don't know if I made the right decision... but it's done. They're practically dead." "Why...couldn't you have saved him?" Atsushi looks up. "No one can truly save anyone." Ango replied blankly. "Y-You could've tried harder!" Atsushi splutters. "Get up." Ango stares at it. "Now." There was nothing in his eyes, Atsushi followed, wincing at the wound. Ango stepped to the other side of the room, Atsushi following him blindly. "You have the idea that somehow, we could've done better." Ango's voice shook. "I've heard this beeping for so long." He sets his hand on top of the heart monitor, attached to a person, unmoving. "I chose Odasaku, but I'll never know if that was the right decision. Especially since there's...not enough space to keep his body in the world anymore." Ango forced a smile on his face, tears streaming, his glasses getting further sullied. "You know, I don't even know you. I don't understand how or why you even know Dazai, and the thing is? I don't even care. But I'll let you go with one simple fact. One little value that says quiet a bit about all this." Ango turns to Atsushi, "Do you know how long I've heard that beep for?" His hand moves from the monitor, to Odasaku's own. "Four years." Four years since he died, four years since limbo, and four years a demon.

[ol-razzle-dazazzle]

The Bridges We Cannot Cross- Chapter 9: Ripping off Mask-ing Tape

We're in around the end stretch here folks, only a few more chapters to go. I couldn't stop thinking about hata no kokoro from touhou, which kinda caused references to Masks (also fun fact: hannya masks were masks representing female demons influenced by jealousy in Noh plays...sound familiar? (Yes.) Dazai references Noh plays a few times in his books, and in the 'first notebook' of nlh he recalls the story of asking a lion mask during childhood because he felt the need to ask for something to satisfy his father's want, and was 'masking' his own idea that he was unworthy and nothing would make him happy. Also hata no kokoro has a reference to kuchisake-onna in urban legend in limbo, and I couldn't help but throw that in there as well. The dialogue of 'do you think people are deserving of forgiveness?' Is a thinly veiled question that Dazai is asking himself- much like kuchisake-onna's question of 'am I pretty?' However, no matter what answer of yes or no, the kuchisake-onna is not satisfied and kills the human, much like the denial of kind words said to someone with depression, a confirmation bias that depression feeds into. While Dazai can externalise his loss of humanity causing him not to be human, he can't do the same as a hashihime- because despite improving with Atsushi (causing him to only be a hashihime by name) his guilt and self-doubt prevents him to forgive himself. I'm really sorry for this long intro (and lowkey English essay on my work, how self-righteous) but as someone who has such thoughts, this was a personal chapter for me to write. As someone who's favourite book is No Longer Human, but wants to be optimistic- its hard to gain a balance of realism, logical judgement and self-acceptance. It's something I still struggle with very badly, which is why despite being a complete worrywart I hugely identify with both bsd and 'real life' Dazai. Also I just wanted to rant about touhou ahaha~ ----------------- Ripping off Mask-ing Tape Ango managed to leave alive and intact. Atsushi was unsure whether to go after him, staring tentatively over at the bridge. He had no way to even contact the other man, and considering his history, Dazai probably had no leads himself. Ango could handle himself, hopefully. Ok the other hand, even on the basic level- between controlling a human and a vengeful bridge demon, let alone one who has just realised the circumstances of his death, Atsushi figured the more reasonable was to help the latter. Dazai made it out intact and...well, he said he was alive- just different. Everything worked out relatively okay. Too relatively okay. "Dazai..." Atsushi glanced around, the other man nowhere to be seen. He jumped down under the bridge (wow he was actually starting to get used to this), to find candles and a boat. "A candlelit afternoon, for me? I'm touched." Atsushi joked, peering over the boat, to find a half-destroyed mast. "There's some more modifications to be done." Dazai smiled, surfacing. It was a fake smile, blatantly so- to the point it was more a mask than an actual expression. "After all, wouldn't want it to fall and then someone would drown alone, again." "Dazai..." Atsushi started, teeth clenching as he didn't know where to place his words. "What?" "How...did you find meeting Ango again?" A terribly 'subtle' question. "Wonderfully, Atsushi. Meeting your past is such an 'enlighting'" the flames increased their burn, despite it being ineffective, their lights beckoned towards the base of the bridge. "Experience. I can only imagine." Atsushi decided to completely abandon all notion of subtlety. "Okay..." Atsushi took a breath, "We are both extremely, painfully, absolutely aware that you are lying." "Ah, you knew?" The mask turned toward him, a painfully cynical gasp. "How did you guess?" "I know you, Dazai." Atsushi looked down. "Right, right- you know me. A whole lot, apparently. You even managed to figure out my cause of death, and knowing Ango's affinity for being, pardon my layman's terms, a snitch- you know everything else about me." Dazai's eyes were blank behind that fake smile. "So, yes- you'd know quite a bit, wouldn't you?" Atsushi could only gulp and nod. "Yes." "Even more than me, I didn't even know that instead of being abandoned to die alone, I was..." Dazai hummed in thought, before clicking his fingers. "Abandoned to die alone." "So this doesn't change anything, right?" Atsushi gave a hopeful smile, a fragile glass that was all but begging to be shattered. "Precisely." Dazai steps into the water, "It means there's no hope for me." "T-That's not true! I-I, you said that you thought you had a different life now!" Atsushi defended, moving closer to Dazai. "Yes, but that doesn't change anything. It's an attempt, but..." He shrugs. "I don't honestly believe there was any hope for me in the first place to 'be human'." Dazai glances down at the water, knowing just how many souls were there. "Back when I was alive, you know it yourself, I was practically only human purely by name. Now it's no different, just don't have the label to cling to, correct?" Atsushi stared at him, trying frantically find words. "You didn't kill Ango." A fact. "You wanted to, but you didn't." Dazai laughed, waving a dismissive hand. "That's because you weren't there." "Liar." Atsushi frowned, "I know because you feel summoned when you see someone on the bridge... if I didn't go up there and talk, or if it wasn't him in the first place, you wouldn't have even attempted." "If's and but's, Atsushi- how do you 'know' that?" "Because I /know/ you!" Atsushi called out, "Yes, you were the mafiosi that drowned alone, yes you are a vengeful spirit that felt a loneliness I can't imagine, but...that's not all of what you were and are." Dazai opened his mouth to dismiss such notions, but...those star-like eyes burned into him, this wasn't the kind of thing he heard from anyone. People picked and chose what they liked or hated about someone, and that forms their judgement. The mafia enjoyed his nonchalance to the bloodthirsty and grim, the people he could never reach and get close to hated him for the same reason. The only person that made the most accurate judgement was Odasaku- who saw that nonchalance for what it was- a depression of emptyness, a void unfillable. But he never heard a factored judgement. "You're also the person that saved me, the person that lied next to me underneath the stars, the person that makes admittedly terrible crab soup, and then slightly better, the person that I can't change- but I love." A judgement that was not based on Dazai's status or lack of status of being a human. "Because I don't know, I-I don't know if you're a 'human' or a 'demon' or whether or not I can 'fix' you or 'turn you back' but..." "You're Dazai to me." But he considered himself broken beyond repair. That picking up the pieces of himself would only result in further cuts on his hands. The idea that he didn't deserve this, the idea of self-destruction, to hide. To hide upon the mask of a demon, to slit and kill anyone regardless of answer. "Atsushi...it's fine. You don't have to say all that stuff." Dazai laughed, splashes of water dappling his face. "I needed to." Atsushi sighed, before leaning forward to wrap his arms around Dazai. "Atsushi..." His voice shook, fake smiled masks starting to splinter. "Do you think people deserve forgiveness?" "Yes." Atsushi glances up at him, seeing that mask gone. "Really?" An affirmation, a word that would be asked as they have underneath them bones. "Depends...I guess." Atsushi dragged him out of the water. Staring down into those eyes that had not returned their brown light. As the two slept, they both knew something. That they were not satisfied. Atsushi was not satisfied in his own answers and Dazai's initial mask. Dazai was not satisfied in Atsushi due to his own doubt, the notion that no such thing could be really true. He was alone, and that's what fate will always be. And as the dark of his eyes flickered open, he didn't see Atsushi in his arms. He was alone.