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drabblesanddreams · 5 years ago

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Old life, new world - Chuuya Nakahara x Reader

Hey everyone, this is a commission that i wrote for the lovely @moonlittxger :) I hope you like the way it turned out! If anyone wishes for a commission please send me a pm and ill text back with more details :)

If you wish to support heres my Kofi

Word count: 2.3 K

TW: slight form of Self harm, depressing thoughts, angst, read at your own risk

Summary: When you get hit by a bus and end up in a new world, Chuuya is the one who saves you and over time you find your disdain for the man turn into something more warm and tender- a story over 6 months.

Six months

“Hey,”

Though the sudden greeting managed to break you out of the despairing thoughts that managed to fall one after another in the alignment of your mind, your body barely budged an inch. You slowly blinked, (E/C)’s becoming hazy once more as you lost yourself between the stone crevices of the prison wall and the deep, growing fissures of your own sanity.

You easily fell back into dwelling around the concept of what was now and what was then.

You replayed the facts over and over again in your head.

You had been struck by a bus, no one's fault but your own for rushing across the street without looking at all in upmost urgency so that you would make it to work on time and hopefully, avoid the wicked wrath of your boss.

You remember the hot rush of pain that flooded your senses and every nerve before blacking out, courtesy of your head hitting the asphalt.

When you woke up, you half-expected to be in a hospital room. But instead, you were back on the roads, lying on your back as your eyes became lost in the too-blue sky above. It was serene, peaceful even.

And then someone was honking for you to ‘get the fuck off the roads you dumbass!’

Reality slid back into place and you wondered what the hell just happened. But you didn’t have the time nor expense to be dwelling over it because one look at your watch, you blanched and realized you were late of work.

However, when you arrived at your workplace, your manager stared at you in pure confusion, wondering why you were trying to clock in. When you returned her comment with equal confusion, her eyebrows stitched together in annoyance as she pushed you out of the door muttering about “stupid brats and pulling their pranks again,”

Safe to say you were defiantly perplexed and thought to yourself that this must be her way of firing you.

It only got worse and more harrowing afterwards, for when you made your way back home you were stopped in place by the big blue sold! Sign outside your estate. When you tried phoning your mother about what was going on, your heart raced ever so quickly and nearly stopped in its thundering mission when you heard the voice on the other side, proclaiming that the number was disconnected and no longer in service.

Afterwards, you shut your eyes tightly and tugged hard at your head of hair, hoping to wake up from whatever the fuck was happening. You remember the emotions lurching throughout your body then. The tears that threatened to escape the corner of your eyes, the feeling that you were suffocating as if you couldn’t get enough air.

It wasn’t until you were walking in the dark of the city that you had no idea where to go or what to do. When an older gentleman had cornered you in an ally way, you completely freaked as he attempted to lay his hands on you. Until a moment of pure panic, something worse seemed to have happened.

A foreign pressure on your back, like you had an extension of some limbs. When you looked back, you felt like you were going to blank out, which you then did within the next thirty seconds.

Because there, on your back was a translucent pair of chrysanthemum blue wings, butterfly in shape.

The older man then growled at you, a ferocious sound from the bottom of his throat as he grabbed your head, muttering “ability user,” then smashed it against the ally-way wall.

Back in the prison cell, the wound on your head was now healed, and that’s how you figured your pair of wings came with the ability of slight regeneration. You didn’t forget the way your attacker muttered ability user like it was some sort of disease. He mentioned to his colleagues that they had to be very careful so that dammed detective agency didn’t figure out of their plans to traffic you out of the city.

You put two and two together afterwards and realized the exact sort of hell you were in. You hypothesized that you must’ve died, or must’ve ended up in one long, freakish dream.

For the first bit in the prison cell, you amused yourself half-heartedly by digging your nails into your palm, deep enough to draw blood and severe enough that your new-found abilities would take over and repair the torn skin, centimetre by centimetre in the expense of about a minute.

You were still trying to come to terms with the fact that you were never going to see your family again. The burden of this thought weighed on your soul like an anchor pulling down the mass of a ship.

“Hey,” he called out again this time more … Get the fuck up, we’re leaving.”

This time you spared the stranger a glance.

He was flanked in black dress pants, a vest, and a long black coat. From underneath that black hat peaked out orange hair, long enough that it curled slightly around his pale neck. He was short, petit even as he buried his hands in the pocket of his trousers, scowling at you with disdain.

What a joke, Chuuya Nakahara was here.

You gazed up at him for a moment longer, a thousand questions billowing in your mind but instead you remained quiet.

He kicked the cell bars, now fully annoyed, “I said get the fuck up,” he ordered, and you snorted, rolling your eyes as you lolled your head over to him.

“Or what,” you couldn’t help but say sarcastically, “You’ll put me in prison?”

He huffed, drawing a key from his pocket and easily unlocking the chain door as he made his way over to you, harshly grabbing you by the arm and pulling you up. You did little to protest this, no longer finding the will to fight back any longer. You would accept whatever fate had in store for you with open arms.

“Haha, very funny smartass,” he rolled his eyes as he dragged you out of the prison cell and out the corridor.

As the both of you made your way down the corridor, you caught sight of some of the guards who had previously been tasked with watching over you, now on the ground and slouched over their stomachs, chin resting on their chests, sleeping away.

It then struck you with the harsh realization that these men weren’t sleeping, they were unconscious, you thought as you caught sight of a dribble of blood here and there.

“Wait,” you said, stopping in your tracks as your eyebrows furrowed. Chuuya stopped as well, looking at you in annoyance and he tugged at your arm, “I said wait.”

You examined him for a moment before voicing your thought out loud, “Are you…saving me?” you asked.

He snorted loudly, rolling his cerulean blue hues as he said, “Wow, princess you sure are a genius,” you scowled at this before harshly pulling your arm away from his grasp and crossing your arms over your chest. “Yes, Mori-san requested that we take you back and join the Port Mafia,” At this your eyes widened, and you gaped openly at him. The… Port Mafia?

“Hell fucking no am I joining the fucking mafia you short, ginger cussing asshole!” you proclaimed loudly as you took a step back, placing your hands on your hips.

2 months later, you were now under the ranks of the mafia. It was quite logical to join them, after all, you had absolutely no place to go.

Although the effects of depression never failed to take a hold of you, the thoughts of how worried your mom must be now that you had been missing for so long, you found yourself growing accustomed to your wings.

The healing bit was a perk too.

But over the two months you found yourself squabbling with Chuuya on a daily, the backbiting that occurred between you two was fierce, ever since you called him short.

“Are you done yet? Hurry the fuck up (Y/N) I don’t have all day!”

At Chuuya’s call you rolled your eyes as you searched around your room for your report, the one that the both of you had to report to Mori-sensei.

“I’m hurrying holy shit calm down!” you called back out to him through the door. You heard a bang on your door and didn’t doubt for a second that he must’ve kicked it again, hot-headed as he is.

You wondered just how much your poor door could take before it would cave into the splintering pieces of wood that barely managed to hold itself together.

Reaching under the covers of your bed, your hand grasped the file folder of your report and you pulled it out victoriously before making haste in sprinting across your room.

You pulled the door to your room open, meeting Chuuya’s eyes. What a pretty colour they were, even though you did hate the guy you could admit that he was…hot, for lack of a better term.

But you would never admit that out loud, so instead you thrust the folder into his arms, “Here.”

2 Months later

“Who the fuck did this?” Chuuya hissed at you though his actions didn’t carry the same malice as his words as he ran his thumb over the cut on your face.

“Fuck Chuuya I dunno, doesn’t matter though we gotta go,” you groaned at the pain in your body, slurring your words as the earth tilted down slightly. The slight sound of gunshots down the street sent your heart racing, the both of you had to scram before getting caught in the crossfire, otherwise, it’ll be too late.

You felt the brush of wind against your exposed shoulders as your wings stuttered for a moment before folding in back on themselves, too weak to have energy wasted on them folded out.

“C’mon,” he muttered and wrapped a hand around your shoulders and the other around your waist, hoisting you up.

You moaned in pain as you rested your head against his shoulder, already feeling the slow regenerating effect of your ability kicking in.

That day, you saw Chuuya look at you with something a bit different than the usually anger and hate…worry.

2 Months later- present

“No no no idiot, Baileys is the one you can eat with ice-cream and all that shit, Concha Toro is good for admiring its taste in just itself,”

You eyed Chuuya’s explanation of the two brands with faint interest from the couch, you laid your head down on the arm of his couch as you took in your explanation.

“So, which one are we drinking?” you asked. Ever since Chuuya had heard that the only wine you’ve had was from the grocery store, he freaked and demanded that he take upon the role to educate you on his hobby, which was, of course, drinking wine.

“Concha Toro,” he stated, walking over to you as he uncorked the bottle and filled the two glasses up. He handed you one and you gingerly got up as he sat next to you on the couch. You took a small sip of it before cringing, “It’s way too bitter,” you gagged and Chuuya rolled his eyes as he made for a reach for your glass

“No!” you stated in possessiveness as you brought the glass closer to your chest, “Mine,” he raised an eyebrow at your antics.

Soon, through the small, mindless chatter with Chuuya you found yourself finishing the glass and swiped Chuuya’s own, draining that as well.

“Oneeee more!” you begged holding out your glass. You felt fuzzy and light like you were drifting on a cloud.

“Hell no, you’re drunk already you lightweight,” he stated back in return and you pouted, swaying towards him on the couch, “Please?” you slurred.

He shook his head and just as you swayed a little too far, your body lurched forward and he caught you in his harms. You immediately wrapped your arms around him and giggled, “Okay, I think its time you go to bed,” he stated at your antics.

He hoisted the both of you up and you stumbled forward, “You know I died once?” you stated, referring to your accident with the bus that seemed a million years ago. “Uh huh,” he said obviously not believing you, “It’s true!”

He gently pulled you forward but it seems as if the alcohol was really hitting you as you could barely walk, “Fuck my life..” he muttered and you stared at him as he wrapped his arms under you, pulling you up so he could carry you bridal style.

He was so pretty, god, you might even want to kiss him if you didn’t hate him so much. Humming you asked, “Chuuya do you hate me?” he stopped in his tracks and looked at you. “What the hell? I may detest you, but I don’t hate you, princess,” he called out that nickname. Whenever he called you princess, it always infuriated you, but you always felt a rush of warmth in the pit of your belly.

Reaching your head up, you nuzzled his neck affectionately as you tenderly kissed the spot underneath his ear.

“What the hell are you doing?” he asked, and you tilted your head up as you took in the blush creeping up his pale cheeks, “Loving you,”

“Chuuya,” you said, “Let’s not hate each other anymore, ‘kay?” he looked at you and grunted in amusement.

“We can talk about this in the morning, now just go to bed dumbass,”

“Promise?”

“Yeah, I promise,”

Maybe with the promise of a new life, you’d be okay again, hopefully enough that you could find your way back home.

But was losing everything newfound worth it?

You’ll just have to see.

#comission #bsd #bsd imagines #bsd chuuya #bsd imagine #bsd x reader #Chūya Nakahara #Nakahara Chuuya #Chuuya #chuuya imagine #chuuya x reader #bungou stray dogs #bungou stray dogs x reader #bungou stray dogs imagine #bungo stray dogs #bungou stray dogs imagines #bungo stray dogs headcanons

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suicidefrantic · 5 years ago

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Name: Chuuya Nakahara

Alias: Arahabaki, King of Sheep (Former), Twin Dark (former with Dazai Osamu), Slug, Ability User A5158 (Special Ability Department)

Hair Colour | Eye Colour: Orange | Gray (Former) , Bright Blue

Birthday | Birth Place: April 29 (Taurus) | Yamaguchi, Japan

Gender: Hermaphrodite (Identifies as male)

Age: 22 , Merged with Arahabaki at age 7

Height: 160 cm (5'3")

Sexuality: Pansexual

Likes: Hats, Fighting, Alcohol, Rock music

Dislikes: Claims to hate Dazai Osamu

Ability: For The Tainted Sorrow

Affiliation: Port Mafia, Sheep (Former)

The quest to find a vessel for Arahabaki….

Chuuya was born to two loving parents, they were accepting towards their child, and wished to give him the very best of the world. Chuuya showed no signs of being abnormal at his birth aside from him being born a hermaphrodite rather than one specific gender --- though his parents would have happily allowed their child to choose their ideal sex when the time came. However, that time would never come. It was all due to the appearance of Chuuya’s ability that began to draw unwanted attention to the small ginger who didn’t know much about the world. He was two years old when his ability first manifested itself. The ability was harmless, simply throwing small fits if he didn’t get his way and floating up to the ceiling and away from his parents--- sometimes just being found sleeping up on the ceiling rather than where his parents had left him (this was how they had discovered Chuuya’s ability.)

Chuuya’s parents had two names picked out for their child, for a boy Chuuya--- for a girl Chiyura. Though they had decided they would let the child choose once they became of a decent age where they knew what they felt most likely, but decided on calling their child ‘Chuuya’ until that time came. They were loving and accepting parents, but life wasn’t meant to be simple nor loving for Chuuya. By the time he turned five the government had set their sights on the young gray eye boy, seeing potential in him. In fact they had a firm feeling that this child was the one who would bond with the god, Arahabaki, in the future. They sought to make a deal with the child’s parents, offering to buy the ginger from them--- only for Chuuya’s parents to refuse. The government were forced to take the child by force instead and to do so they made sure they disposed of Chuuya’s loving parents. What was worst was the young child could only watch as he was carried away and the sound of gunfire was heard and the spray of blood. Something inside Chuuya broke that day , he couldn’t fight back as he was forced to sleep soon after he saw the blood fly up into the air.

When he awoke he found himself completely stripped of his clothes and in some weird testing chamber, submerged in water with a tube shoved down his throat. His body was pressed tightly into a ball and he couldn’t move. He continued to fade back and forth into consciousness,fluids were pumped into his veins to test his body to see if it was in fact compatible with Arahabaki. Chuuya was not known as his name but rather as Ability User A5158 . He was branded with that ID upon his neck , a fact that Chuuya was not completely aware of. By the time he turned six, that was when he began to hear a voice in his head. At first, he believed he was hearing the men in the white lab coats talking to him through some odd device, but it was different. He didn’t feel alone, it was like someone else was with him. Yet at the same time, they weren’t the same either. Though all of this changed when Chuuya turned seven and the entity got stronger.

His body couldn’t handle the sudden burst of power and the gravity manipulation only grew more and more until finally an explosion happened. Chuuya blacked out, though he could only vaguely remember being tricked into saying some passage or saying--- “ Oh, Grantors of Dark Disgrace, Do Not Wake Me Again.” That was enough for the small seven year old to break out of his prison and create mass chaos. Though since the merging was still new, Arahabaki fell asleep leaving Chuuya freed and very confused. Arthur Rimbaud was the one who had truly been responsible for trying to use Arahabaki--- thus freeing both the God and the child that was now his vessel. This is the main cause for why Chuuya and Arahabaki both lost their memories of anything prior to this--- though not many of Chuuya’s original thoughts had remained behind to begin with as Arahabaki had been feeding upon the child trying to absorb him and make him into his own body--- thus making the child’s existence fade away.

Chuuya could recall the existence of Arahabaki ,which was surrounded by blue-black darkness and sealed away-- though only vaguely. He however has no clue how the seal was removed, he could only vaguely recall someone’s hand pulling from the seal and freeing him (a thought that later appeared after he got over the shock of all that had happened prior to him being free.) Chuuya decided he would do anything in order to find the truth about his origins.

-Chuuya was brought in to Sheep by one of the council members by pure accident. It was a happy accident, especially once word got out of what Chuuya’s ability was. This led most of the Sheep members (who were old enough) to take turns raising Chuuya and training him how best to fight.

-Chuuya had no memories, but it was another happy accident that he could recall his original name, Chuuya Nakahara. This only happened after a nasty blow to the head during training one day. Prior to that, he was simply going by the name of “Lost Boy.” Chuuya didn’t really care for that name and honestly thought of just making up any name, anything was better than Lost Boy. He didn’t know why he hated it so much.

-He continues to claim he will grow, but deep down knows he most likely will not. He secretly hates himself due to his hermaphrodite status. Thus claiming he would rather not get too close to anyone, shamed by how his body didn’t look like what he believed a ‘normal’ male should. Yes, a little Chuuya was curious one day.

-He used to like milk, but now can’t stand the taste of it due to being forced to drink it so much . Milk did not help him grow.

- Being merged with Arahabaki is why he has such a low tolerance towards alcohol. He doesn’t understand such, though he loves the taste of wine and doesn’t consider himself a lightweight.

-Once when drunk he declared he was a God while standing on top of the bar. This did not go well for him in the end.

- He can sometimes hear Arahabaki and actually has conversations with him, or attempts to. The God is protective enough of his vessel to not allow him to die too easily. Though figures if he did happen to die within the right conditions, he could snag his body. Chuuya hates Dazai because he can easily allow Arahabaki the right conditions if he let’s Corruption last longer than fifteen minutes. Arahabaki’s strongest times where they can converse is when Chuuya is asleep.

-Chuuya’s dreams are typically filled with chaos and destruction. He however does wonder what the life he forgot was like.

-He has a collection of Fedora hats, because he has come to like the style. His favourite besides the hat that used to belong to Rimbaud is a white fedora with black around it.

-He feels most at ease around Kouyou (Ane-san), especially when she strokes his hair. It easily calms him down, even when he is in extreme anger like state. She is also the only one he has ever confined in about his ‘self image issue.’

- Chuuya was once forced under a psychiatrist’s care, prior to Mori stepping in to ‘sort things out’. Chuuya was diagnosed with paranoid personality disorder and antisocial personality disorder. Chuuya was not happy being held hostage. He was drugged and could not use his ability, and it was the only time he could not hear nor feel Arahabaki. He was there for exactly a week. He couldn’t help but feel like Mori might have done this on purpose, at first he had blamed Dazai though. He didn’t share either thought out loud.

-Chuuya’s eyes used to be gray, but upon being poked and tested on(not to mention merging with Arahabaki) they turned bright blue.

-He has a really good singing voice. He is typically embarrassed about it unless singing drunken karaoke.

- He is one hell of a cook, something he downplays a lot.

- Because he had no memories of his childhood, he tried to give himself a childhood (which he was robbed of). He came up with this on his own, and even kept it a secret from everyone (until later when he told Kouyou about it.) Growing up in Sheep was a blast, but he knew deep down that Sheep was not exactly a normal childhood.

- Since he lived like he did when he was in Sheep, he enjoys the finer things in life. He especially loves lobster.

-He does sometimes get lonely when he is in his place alone. He was used to Sheep for the longest time and sometimes this causes nightmares.

-He keeps a journal (diary) , as well as writes and sketches from time to time to center his mind.

-He once made a drunk video once and sent it out. He still doesn’t know who has the video and who has seen it. Dazai was the first person whom he sent it to. This was one of the very reasons why Hirotsu started supervising (babysitting) Chuuya when he went out drinking--- even taking his phone away when he tried to call Dazai.

- He is very competitive, especially when it comes to games.

-He has had some very interesting dreams, that were nightmares. He calls them the what if dreams or exploration. They make him wonder about his life, and his choices. He typically will begin to ponder about his life after waking up from these dreams.

-He has a strong fear of dogs, he doesn’t know why.

-He has a tendency to bite the inside of his cheek … a lot.

-He has slight issues with his vision. It isn’t anything noticeable as he has perfect vision--- though he believes it is a side effect from Arahabaki being merged with him. He sometimes gets dizzy spells and his vision gets blurry. He keeps this to himself , as he doesn’t need people to think he is weak.

-He wonders sometimes how long he has to live before Arahabaki takes over him and he dies. This is a recurring nightmare for him. He doesn’t allow it to change how he goes through life. If he dies, he feels like it might as well be going down fighting rather than sitting around doing nothing. At least he was free.

-He has a fear of enclosed spaces , thanks to certain flashbacks he gets from time to time in them.

-He has a tendency to break things he touches sometimes.

#I got a reason to fight (Chuuya Nakahara)#(He is finally here officially \o/ )#tw: long post #tw: death #tw: blood mention #tw: mental health #tw: human experimentation #tw: fears #tw: nightmare #tw: alcohol #tw: drugs #tw: self loathing

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leonawriter · 5 years ago

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To Watch The Parade

Read it on AO3

Fandom: Bungo Stray Dogs

Characters: Chuuya, Dazai, others mentioned.

Summary: Chuuya always feels a pull, a flutter of something between fear and longing as the parade goes past each year, and this year is no different. Neither is Dazai's presence.

But there are changes, this year.

Notes: Mostly canon youkai au. SKK implied.

...

Chuuya stands a distance away from the parade, dressed not in his sharp suit but a kimono that had last been worn for a summer festival, along with the mask he'd worn at New Year's. He leans forward a slight bit, hesitates, and shifts his feet.

It would be easy to go and join them. They all seem to be having fun, after all, and it wasn't as though there weren't people who looked like him - not exactly, but still, close enough that he wouldn't feel out of place - in among the people who didn't, and it was tempting. So tempting.

He could take a few steps, slip in, and pretend that he'd always been there.

Tell himself that he would stay for only a while.

It would be so easy-

Which was why he couldn't, and he stayed where he was, watching them all march past with no idea where they were going.

"You could join them, you know," a voice says from behind him. He doesn't even bother turning around. "None of them would force you out of the life you've built for yourself. They'd understand. A lot of them lead perfectly normal human lives most of the time too, just like you do."

He continues to watch, and he isn't sure why his heart beats faster - if it's fear, or if it's excitement.

It certainly is something, being caught between fear and longing.

"I can't," is all he says.

"Mm," his companion hums. "That's what you've said every other year I've found you here, ever since I realised what you did when the time for the Night Parade came around. I shared my secrets with you, and I even have said that I could ensure you had a better kimono to wear to the event. That one is fine for normal festivals, but for..."

"I said I can't, Dazai."

He's stopped pretending that he doesn't know who's joined him, as if there was any pretending of such a sort when it was Dazai, and he tears his eyes away from the parade to see Dazai staring down at him, inscrutable in his dark blue kimono.

Unlike Chuuya, he's not bothered with a mask.

Also unlike Chuuya, Dazai sports two soft white ears pointing up toward the moon, and a number of white tails show through from under that kimono he's wearing.

Chuuya had freaked the hell out the first time he'd seen Dazai like this. They'd been sixteen, and Chuuya had been watching just like he had been earlier, and an almost-familiar figure had just raced out of the parade, seeming to flicker and shrink as he'd run, as if he'd been bigger or taller than he already was when with the demons, and closer to what Chuuya recognised when he grew further away from them.

He'd thought Dazai was human, after all. Why shouldn't he? Ignoring the name of Dazai's ability, everything about him said that he was human, right from the way he was skeptical of gods and spirits, to the way he threw his temper around like the brat he was when Mori told him to do something he didn't want to do. And then there he was, right in front of him with fox ears and not just one, but nine fox tails, and Chuuya had wound up having a screaming match with him in the middle of the street.

He'd also not been able to get over that for several weeks. Dazai had suffered the full wrath of Chuuya's silence, and harder hits when they were training together, and Chuuya had let more and more things get through his defences, just shy of anything that'd catch Mori's attention as actually going too far.

He can't remember anymore what had made it so they'd talked to each other again. Maybe nothing did, and he just plain forgot why he'd been so mad, aside from the next year, when they were seventeen, he wasn't so shocked or angry seeing Dazai in the parade, or when Dazai snuck out of it to try and trick Chuuya into joining, saying that it was a prank afterwards.

The worst had been the four years between eighteen and twenty-two, when he hadn't dared watch, because he wasn't sure if Dazai would turn up, and he wasn't sure how he'd react, if he saw the traitor with the demons, wasn't sure if he'd march in there against everything he knew just to punch Dazai's lights out, or if the other demons would take offence at such a thing, or if... worst of all, maybe, if he'd just turn around and go home, because clearly Dazai was better off not being human at all, and not even trying to make an effort at it.

But now here they were again.

"...You know," Dazai starts again, sounding far less sure of himself this time, enough that Chuuya's caught off guard, "I'm thinking of inviting Atsushi-kun next year. I didn't think I should, this year, when everything is still so new for him, and he's still settling in... he might have easily forgotten where home was, because you're right. It is easy to forget. But I think that it would do him a world of good, once he's ready."

Chuuya snorts.

In the distance, the wild music keeps playing. The sound of a hundred and more voices raised in jubilation and music and chaos.

"You never bothered asking me if I was ready."

He's more than a little bitter, about that. He can still remember how he'd been scared shitless the first time Dazai had tried dragging him in, after he'd heard all of the stories of people just going missing, and how just the other day Dazai had joked about making Chuuya disappear.

"Maybe I should have," Dazai admits, not looking at him, attention drawn back to the parade, though a single ear has cocked toward Chuuya, a piece of body language he almost wishes would stick around full time, because it's nice knowing he's got Dazai's attention and doesn't have to work for it, when he wants to have it. "But I was... I didn't even think of it. At the time, all I cared about was drawing you further in. I hadn't... been able to share this side of myself for... so many years."

Chuuya feels a shiver run through him, at the reminder, subtle though it had been, that Dazai wasn't actually the few months younger than him that the records said he was; or at least, perhaps Dazai Osamu was twenty-two years old and had been born roughly two months after him.

The kitsune standing next to him, though - who knew. Dazai had never told him exactly how old he was, always treating the question like some woman for whom age was some touchy subject. The first he'd even known was what he'd looked up online, which had suggested Dazai could have just been born as a white fox, but the number of them heavily suggested he'd lived at least centuries, if not... more.

He didn't act like it, at least. Which tended to be a relief. Dazai acted most of the time like he was as old as he said he was, no more and no less. He barely - if ever - even spoke about the idea of being older than that. He'd treated Chuuya coldly the first time he'd brought the idea of age up, in regards to legends, and Chuuya had been pissed off enough because of the double standard - Dazai knew things about him that he'd never told anyone else, but the moment he tried looking up shit that was public knowledge about kitsune, the moment he tried to ask, Dazai acted like he'd started reading his private diary with all his darkest secrets in.

"You're asking me again now, though," he says at long last with a resigned, more than a little frustrated sigh.

Dazai tells him he should have been more patient, and yet there he is again, being the same as ever-

"I'm asking. That's all I'm doing. And offering. Because the offer is always open, just like it has been since I found you here when we were sixteen." Dazai's nails click against something, and he doesn't have to look to know that they're claws, and to be honest, it does sort of suit him. On days like these, he looks on the outside like Chuuya thinks he is on the inside. Sharp, dangerous, but also kind of fluffy and soft. He wonders what it says about Dazai that he's always been fluffy and soft as well as sharp and dangerous. "You know... if you accepted, I would go with you. I just wanted you to know that. I always would have gone with you, Chuuya. Even if it would have seemed like I'd left you, I still wouldn't have... tonight, too. I don't think you have anything to fear from the Night Parade, but... even so. I wouldn't let you be spirited away by anyone else."

His heart caught in his mouth at the confessions, the changes, the... everything, that was so different from the Dazai he had once known.

He forces himself to calm, to breathe, even though he sees one of the demons wave over to Dazai - to them - to come over, to join the fun.

"I... don't think... I don't know if I'm ready. If I'll ever be ready. That's why I just watch, Dazai. I appreciate it, I do - I really do. But I..."

"You're scared that if you join them, they'll call you by a name that you don't call your own," Dazai says simply.

Matter of fact.

The words - the first admission, the first confirmation of something he's kept hidden away for so long - are as much a punch to Chuuya's gut as seeing Dazai with silvery fox-features all those years ago had been.

"What, and you think they wouldn't? And what about if some demon decides they want Arahabaki back? What then? I don't even- what if that does something to me-"

"It wouldn't," Dazai says firmly, "and even if it could... no one would do that to you."

"And how do you know that?"

He's holding onto himself, now - arms around his own chest, and hyper-aware of the hat still resting on his head, even with the demon-mask resting on his face that Dazai seems to be able to see right through.

"Because," Dazai says. He hesitates. Chuuya can tell in the tension in the air and in Dazai's body, that it's a true hesitation, a moment of indecision. "Because," Dazai continues slowly, "no one calls me anything other than 'Dazai Osamu', either."

Chuuya blinks, and then feels all of the air leaving him at once.

It's the first time he's ever heard Dazai willingly talk about any life before being Dazai, ever. And here he is, admitting that at one point, this hadn't been his name. That he'd been someone else. Known as someone else. That perhaps Chuuya could look in the history books and find someone with a different name, and they'd have Dazai's face looking back at him.

It's a sobering thought, the amount of trust - beyond even their normal - that such a piece of knowledge suggests. But at the same time, it's simply an extension of the invitation extended to him, and his mouth dries.

"I... thanks. I'm sorry. I just - maybe... I just need more time too, Dazai."

"That isn't a 'no', though."

He lets out a breathy laugh, which sounds stranger than even his normal speech, coming from under the mask.

He feels like he's walking on thin ice. Walking the edge of a tall building, with Dazai keeping pace with him, so that he might be touched and nullified at any moment, that sense of vertigo that only Dazai can give him.

"No, no, it's... not. I guess. I mean... maybe next year, Dazai."

He looks back at Dazai, only to see his partner smiling from ear to ear, with his eyes closed, just like a fox, and like this he can even see the sharp fangs in Dazai's mouth that are like a physical manifestation of all the harm the man can do with his words, but right now it just looks kind of... cute.

"Next year, then," Dazai says happily, still smiling.

"And what about you? You going back in, or...?"

Dazai shrugs.

"It doesn't matter that much to me either way," he says. "The parade is fun, and everyone there enjoys having me, but... if Chuuya is here, then that's where I think I'll stay."

He loses the ability to breathe all over again, albeit for different reasons entirely.

Dazai will go back to the Agency in the morning, he knows that, and he'll probably act as though tonight never happened to most if not all of the people he works with, same as what happened when they both worked together in the mafia. Chuuya will go back home, and he'll wake up in the morning and go to work, and in general... life will go on. As normal.

If Chuuya is here, then that's where I think I'll stay, Dazai had said, though.

For two years, he'd avoided the parade entirely in large part just because he'd been afraid that hadn't been the case, and Dazai had just left, given up on being human at all, and the Dazai he next met would be more fox than not, would look different, older, stranger, and it haunted him in his dreams. This Dazai that no longer cared about humanity at all, and sometimes hadn't even recognised him.

And now - now, hearing those words... more than the first time they'd met in person again, more than seeing him as a human being, more than Corruption and knowing he could still trust and more than knowing Dazai was trying to be more human than he'd ever been in the mafia-

Something shifted.

Chuuya sighed.

For the first time, he felt comfortable just to watch the parade go by, without the indecision of whether he wanted to risk knowing whether he was too human to not be carried away by it, or not human enough.

Instead, he's just happy to stay where he is.

...

AN: If you think I'm suggesting that "Tsushima Shuji" or any other name Dazai might have taken is effectively a deadname to him and has been ever since he became "Dazai Osamu" and he has distanced himself from that past life or lives, then you're absolutely right. By which, there is the implication of - as Chuuya figured - just how big of a deal even admitting one existed to Chuuya means to Dazai himself.

#bsd #bsd stuff #Leona fic #soukoku #bsd chuuya #bsd dazai

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maryniss · 4 years ago

Text

How Does Waiting Sound?

Fandom: Bungou Stray Dogs

Summary: How did Dazai named his ability?

Why won't Oda leave Dazai?

***

On a last mission before leaving the Port Mafia, Dazai and Chuuya finally find the perfect name for Dazai's ability.

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences

Relationships:

Dazai Osamu/Nakahara Chuuya (Bungou Stray Dogs)

Dazai Osamu&Oda Sakunosuke (Bungou Stray Dogs)

Characters:

Dazai Osamu (Bungou Stray Dogs) Nakahara Chuuya (Bungou Stray Dogs) Oda Sakunosuke (Bungou Stray Dogs) Original Female Character(s) Yoko Ogawa

Tags: oh boy here we go - Freeform;thats why i dont like writing long fics because of the tags;anyway;Drugs;Drugs Made Them Do It;Underage Drinking;does chuuya care they are underage?fucking no;oh yeah;Swearing;Angst;Light Angst;Fluff;Nakahara Chuuya is ticklish;Blood and Violence;i selected blood kink accidentally there are no kinks here;Murder Family;Odasaku Hunts Dazai's Thoughts;Riding Motorcycles(aka Jenna)’Motorcycles;I love Chuua's motorbike as much as I love cherry's carla’Port Mafia Dazai Osamu (Bungou Stray Dogs);But he quits the very next day so not pm dazai really idk;Tags Are Hard;i wrote this because the thought of how dazai named his ability kept me up at night;and yeh;I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping;soukoku kiss i forgot to tell y'all that;Gentle Kissing

Notes: Pfff...cant believe i finished this im so happy rn. so i have one important thing to say before.

YOKO OGAWA is a real Japanese writer. This here doesn't make any assumptions about her real life persona, this is only a fanfic. That is all.

OK, yo now lets see. So, what is this fic really about? idk but soukoku kiss so im happy with that.listened to this while writing hehe

https://open.spotify.com/playlist/4mIVbG8EnA6JgSqzgk87pA?si=LVJB_uZyRQqIIMejQeSzgg

Dazai smiles, even if he is not happy.

Dazai smiles because he is happy.

Dazai never cries.

He smiled at that moment when his life changed. That day when he got a good beating from a child much smaller than him (even if that stubborn redhead would never agree with him about their height)

Dazai always thought that he was special. He was indeed. After all, the people around him were human. They died. Everyday. Every single day, before his eyes. Sometimes, he killed them himself. Other times, he had to witness blood shed from afar.

It still hurt. But, he got used to it. He was strong enough to do so. It was like he didn’t feel it anymore, actually. Just like when you get used to the sound of a broken clock; it is as if it never existed in the first place.

But, Dazai felt something, he was just burrowed too deep into his thoughts to reach his feelings. He... he felt like he was...

No Longer Human. Dazai spent a lot of time thinking about the name of his ability (and, no, we would never tell anyone how it got that name; personal reasons) and he concluded that it fit perfectly.

Walking down on a random street, Dazai thought about it again. Actually, he had told somebody about the origin of his ability’s name. The sun threw pretty, orange, almost transparent curtains of light, making Dazai seem like an angel that has just ascended from Hell.

He stopped and looked around himself. He knew that his instincts would not fool him; he knew the street he was on.

If he turned around the corner, he would find the bar, the same as always. Unchanged, as his feelings.

He hated himself. Not only when he was going to the bar, even though he promised himself that he would never go there again. Not only when he let everyone around him down. Not only when he did what he thought was right instead of what he wanted.

He hated himself in general. And, to tell you a secret, there was only one other person Dazai hated.

He entered in the bar and, as always he saw Oda sitting there.

“Were have you been? You are late! , “smiled his friend with a drink already prepared in his hand.

Dazai sat down in the cold and empty room. He did not have time to tell Odasaku how he got to name his ability.

“The usual?, “ asked the bartender.

“Mhm, sure.”

Dazai relaxed against the back of the chair. There was a clock in that room, but it was broken.

“Hard day?” Odasaku’s tone was concerned. Dazai smiled to himself and nodded.

“Kind of. How about you?”

“Nothing special.”

The barman brought two glasses of whiskey and put them on the table. Dazai looked at them and saw nothing, nothing more than the person who should have drank that, right next to him.

“You know, actually, there is something that I want to tell you.”

Oda left his glass back on the counter and smiled at Dazai.

“Do tell. I am pretty bored. What could happen that would make you want to talk like that, so suddenly?”

Tik-tok-tik-tik-tok. The clock on the wall sang its broken song.

“It’s not a so good story; but I want to tell you.”

“Ok, I am listening, Dazai.”

The brown-haired man inhaled deeply and looked at the glass in his hand. He then drank it all and slammed it against the table. The drink next to him was untouched. Dazai called for the bartender and ordered two more drinks.

“Ok, so where should I start?” Tik-tik-tok-tok-tik-tok.

“From where you see fit.”

Dazai tried to remember. The details of the day his life had once again taken a 180 turn. It was late spring, or maybe already summer, and the sun was setting almost shyly.

“Yeah, it was a golden afternoon. And the sun was smiling down upon…”

“Wait, I already know this story.” Dazai looked puzzled. He was sure he never told Oda this one. Their drinks were waiting on the counter. Tree, in total and one empty glass.

“Are you sure? I don’t remember...”

“No, I don’t actually know this one in particular. But, I do know who this is about.”

Dazai understood then and he smiled melancholically. The Oda in his hallucinations really knew him that well, huh? He bet that the real one would have also guessed.

“Whenever you talk about that person, you get all poetic and dramatic, as you are covering yourself with another layer of protection, so that no one can see into your heart. “

Dazai gulped and took a mouthful of whiskey. The alcohol burned down his throat, and then up again to his brain. It was not a big problem; Dazai could handle his drinks quite well (or so he thought).

“Well, you are right, but you’ll hear me anyway, right? It’s not like you have a place to be. And this one it’s not like all the stories about Chuuya that I told you before.”

Dazai may sound all confident when he talked; but deep in his heart, in that numb place of his heart, where he could not reach his frozen emotions, he was scared. If he would had have problems with his kidneys, he would probably piss himself very often and not only because of his disease.

Oda sighed and the clock on the wall did too. The sound of something that doesn’t function anymore.

“Of course, go on. I won’t interrupt you anymore.”

***

“Oi, I can’t believe that old geezer! Putting us to work when he is relaxing in some exotic country! ,”said Chuuya, not so subtly, drawing other’s people attention. The afternoon sun was making him look like an angel that had just descended from Heaven. His hair was high-up in a ponytail and it was the first time Dazai saw him without his hat.

He was beautiful, not that Dazai would ever admit that to Chuuya, god no! He wouldn’t even admit it to himself. He always caught himself staring; against his own will, of course. He liked to look into Chuuya’s eyes. Because he felt like they were alike. They tried to hide their feelings; or, better said, never got a chance to expose them in the first place.

Chuuya’s eyes were always full of light. Nor hatred, nor any other emotion tainted them. They were pure and Dazai admired him for that. He would never tell Chuuya that, again, that was a very big no.

But, it was something. To have eyes blue like the sea, like the reflection of a world full of freedom, like the blue sky Dazai could never see completely. Everything was written there.

“Now, where is that building and those bastards? Let’s kick their assess quicker, ‘cause I wanna drink something.” Dazai smiled at his partner and showed him to turn left.

“Oh, Chuuya, but you are still underage! You can’t drink! , “ said Dazai, being surprised at his own words. It was not like him to make such comments. Irrational and not funny at all.

“You really are dumb, right? If I am going to go beat some guys and steal whatever, I am sure that I am allowed to drink. It’s not like I have respected the law before.”

They walked down a dark alley, chatting or fighting or both at the same time, because that’s how their conversations usually work. Dazai telling Chuuya that he liked his shoes; Chuuya checking to see if he really did take his good pair today; Dazai shattering all of his hopes down and laughing everything off; and then Chuuya smacking his partner and mumbling not-so-beautiful nicknames.

That’s how they work. Like a broken clock.

But, even broken clocks strike sometimes the right hour. They may have seem to not pay attention around them, but it was quite the opposite actually.

They knew they reached their destination, so they tried to focus on the shadows around them; on the sounds of steps that were so loud, even if both Chuuya and Dazai could feel the effort of the people following them to not be heard.

They silently looked at each other.

“We finish this fast and then we go to drink somethin’?”

“Ok, but if you get drunk you’ll let me drive your motorcycle.” Chuuya seemed to hesitate, but he also didn’t want to go drinking alone. He was not afraid or something, it just felt lonely…

They finally reached the building from where they were supposed to extract…

“What are we supposed to take from here? , “ whispered Chuuya. “ Is there some human trafficking that we should take care of?”

“I think that somebody took something from Mori-san, like documents or boring things like that, “whispered Dazai back.

“I swear that I’ll kill that man if he ever sends me to bring him some piece of paper.” Dazai chuckled and looked one more time at the building.

Yeah, of course it had to be a night club. Why did fancy people (or actually people who considered themselves fancy) always came to nightclubs? Where were they supposed to search for those papers? In somebody’s underwear, or what?

And this one didn’t look like a very expensive one. The big sigh with “ NightClub Insomnia” shined pink and green, those cheap neon ones. The windows were dark, so you could not see inside. Or maybe there were just some thick curtains.

Chuuya moved forward and stopped, making a disgusted face.

“Eww, here smells like piss and bear.”

“Let’s go inside then, though I think that there smells even worse, “ answered Dazai. The moon was already high in the sky, illuminating Chuuya’s fragile silhouette. The brown-haired man almost laughed at himself. Fragile? Yeah, sure. He should say that after he beats Chuuya at a one-on-one fight; though he liked when he is being pinned down, and when the redhead smirks triumphantly from above him, his long hair almost brushing over Dazai’s lips…

“Are we going or are you afraid that you’ll be kicked out because you are a minor?”

Dazai snapped out of his dreams and focused on the mission at hand. After they are done, he would go with Chuuya to drink. And he has time to admire his partner (and hate himself for doing so) afterwards.

“Well, if the police catches us, we can just beat them.”

And, so, Dazai and Chuuya entered on the club’s door.

From afar, Yoko Ogawa was observing them. She gestured and her guardians nodded.

The woman resisted licking her lips ( a nervous tic that she has since she was little) as she looked at the two young boys trying to make their way through the crowd. The night has only started, and she already had them where she wanted.

Lights, loud music, neon colors, dancing, people and sweat, drugs, drinking, and the smell of cheap wine and beer, mixed with another one that Chuuya had sensed since he first arrived. An old woman sitting in the corner, wishing she had listened to her wife. She should have took some lip balm with him.

Well, it was not so important. Because, that night was the night she would catch the Double Black. Soukoku. She would be the one to do so.

Soukoku, huh? Just a bunch of kiddos. Yoko Ogawa had two reasons that forced her to break her first marriage, and another two that forced him to get married again with her second wife, the one that was always telling her to use lip balm.

The first reason that determined her to divorce from his wife was that she was not good with children. She didn’t have the patience, the determination to play with such despicable creatures.

And there was another one… oh yeah. Because she accidentally killed his children.

Well, this was her wife’s fault! She should have not left her with them!

She did once, she could do it again. She whispered: “You are dead, Soukoku”, but the club’s liveliness made his words seem dull and not true at all.

***

There are 3 glasses still full of whiskey on the table. There are 3 glasses with only the ice left in them.

“It’s pretty hard to tell this story in the 3rd person,” sighs Dazai, propping his head in his hand. The room is still empty and cold; he gathers all the drink in one place and puts them in a circle.

“Why are you telling it in 3rd person then? You can… , “ he stopped and reached for the glasses that Dazai was playing with. “ That’s mine, you can order more if you want to do whatever you were doing with them.”

“Ok, ok here you are.”

“Thanks. So, why are you not using the first person?”

“Well, that’s because this is not only my story. You’ll see.”

The clock made a disharmonic sound. The room was quiet then for a while and Dazai took another deep breath. That was the moment that their plan to go drinking went wrong. Though Dazai got to ride Chuuya’s motorbike afterwards.

***

“You were right, it really does smell worse here,” yelled Chuuya, trying to make himself heard over the sound of the tasteless music that some DJ- Chuuya would very much like to go and teach that DJ what good music was supposed to sound like- was playing.

“I don’t know what you are saying. This smell kind of reminds me of your apartment. There is the same smell of cheap wine and…”

“That’s because of a certain someone only buying me wine at the smallest price!”

“You should go buy your own wine then!” A woman, almost naked of course, approached Dazai and put her hands on his shoulders. The brown-haired man pushed the woman away; her breath was smelling like beer and there was another odor, a musky and sour one that made Dazai scrunch his nose.

“I am sorry, but I have no such tastes in women,” said Dazai and went on, trying to catch up with Chuuya. He could his small partner ahead of him, avoiding the strippers that were coming for him like a wild group of animals comes for its prey.

“Chuuya, look there!,” shouted Dazai, trying to get the chibi’s attention. Chuuya turned to him and followed the direction that Dazai was showing with his hand.

There were the men that they had to meet to retrieve the documents. Port Mafia didn’t like to spill blood uselessly. So, Mori-san gave them the order to try and negotiate first for the documents, giving them some money in return.

Neither Dazai, nor Chuuya understood the old man. They could just beat those guys and take the documents and that was.

It was almost as if there was something that they didn’t know; as if they were fooled; as if they were going right inside a trap.

Yeah, Dazai knew that was very probably. A trap. He was more than sure about it. He didn’t know if Chuuya realized this; but he trusted his partner. He knew that Chuuya could protect himself, even if he was being in disadvantage. For fuck’s sake, Chuuya was literally a god, so Dazai should not worry about the redhead so much.

The brown-haired man looked around. An elegant dressed woman, wearing red lipstick, her hair tied up in a practical bun, sitting on a celadon sofa, that was probably bought from the SecondHand shop next to the club; Dazai could tell that the sofa was not very comfortable, but what could you expect from such a place? She didn’t seem like a bad person. Besides her, there were two women. Dazai scanned them quickly. A gun hung loosely next to their hip. It was pretty dark, but Dazai could also see the shine of some small, sharp blades. Total: around six. There could also be some hidden ones, in their boots, their hair and maybe even a small bomb in their mouth. He was not so sure, but they needed to pay attention.

Chuuya and Dazai looked at each other. After years of missions when they needed to be silent, they developed some kind of secret language only between two them; almost like they could reach each other’s minds and pull out the thoughts directly from there.

“Do they pose a threat to us?”

“Maybe to you, I am capable of protecting myself.” “Ok, but you won’t let me die this time, no?”

“…did I ever let you down, Dazai?”

Dazai smiled.

“No, chibi, let’s go. We do this quick and then we go to that new bar, right?”

“I swear, if you call me…” Chuuya stopped mid-sentence, looking somewhere between Dazai. He blinked four times and then he took hold of Dazai’s hand.

“We gotta go, Dazai. This is not ok. Fuck the files, this is a big ass trap. We haven’t been careful enough…”

Dazai turned to see what frightened Chuuya so. He blinked himself, telling himself that it was impossible. This mission should have been an easy one. What kind of Ability User did they have the luck to stumble across this time?

The club was slowly melting, its walls, people and everything peeling down, letting bright sunlight come in.

“Come on, Dazai, move!” The brown-haired man needn’t be told twice. It was not like them to run; normally, Dazai would not run with Chuuya. But, that day was the last day when he would be recognized, officially, as a member of the Port Mafia. He did not want to go around, killing people as some kind of maniac.

He was crazy, he knew that already. But, even crazy people had their moments. Just like broken clocks.

And, Chuuya always run. Not because there was something that he could not handle. Dazai bet that his partner could fight with a dragon from those fairytales Oda used to read kids before sleep and he would win, without even scratching himself. Maybe he was foolish and greedy to think that Chuuya was scared for him, for Dazai; maybe he was just blinded by the light coming from Chuuya’s eyes to think that the redhead really did care for him that much.

“Ok, Chuuya, let’s go.” They did not get out in time. They didn’t and Dazai is somewhat glad because of that.

***

“Could you just bring me an entire bottle? I am feeling bad for always telling you to bring two more glasses of whiskey,” chuckled Dazai, not a hint of nervousness in his tone. The barman nodded. Dazai looked at the bar’s door and then at the clock on the wall. He could almost hear Ango coming in, mumbling something to himself, and then taking a seat next to Dazai, sighing and ordering something to drink.

Dazai knew that he would never come here again.

“Well, what happened then? Why did you stop?” Oda looked at him with tired eyes, yet ready to find out whatever Dazai wanted to tell him.

“Just a moment of silence. I thought about my friend who died right before this story took place.” Tik-tok-tok-tik…

“Oh? Do I know them? Who is this friend of yours?”

“You.”

The bartender came with two bottles in his hands and put them on the counter.

“I only said one, though.”

“The other one is for the man right there,” said he, nodding towards the empty chair where Odasaku should have been.

“There is no one there.” The bartender lifted his shoulders and shook his head. He filled his arms with the empty glasses Dazai had drank and smiled fondly at the only client that was still coming to his bar. And then he left, leaving Dazai with the sound of a broken clock and his very own hallucinations.

“I can’t believe that you didn’t order one bottle for me,” laughed Oda, punching Dazai lightly. The brown-haired man sighed; it really was a mistake to come there, but it didn’t matter anymore.

“Old men can’t handle their drinks,” answered he, sipping the remaining whiskey from his glass.

“Hey, I’m only five years older than you.”

“You are…” Dazai bit his tongue. He almost said “dead”. “Ok, let’s continue the story, then. If not, I feel like I am going to fall asleep and you will never know what happened.” Oda nodded and Dazai started to tell his story again.

***

Chuuya and Dazai did not stop to look; they had enough experience to be able to apply the rule number 1 in such cases: never look. You can think about it afterwards. First survive.

The club was collapsing, the people transforming into thin smoke threads. Glass shattered on the floor had also started to disappear and then there was no sign of the location where Dazai and Chuuya should have had a nice and reasonable conversation to take back those documents.

They were now on an island, both of them could hear the distinctly sound of waves of the sea. Seagulls flew above them and as both of them stared up, at the blinding sun, at the clear, blue, day sky, somebody approached them.

“Welcome! My dear kids, this is the Memory Police! Couldn’t be more happy to have you here!”

Chuuya and Dazai turned back and faced the woman they saw in the club. She was alone this time. The two exchanged a look.

“She is the Ability User.”

“Well, we are not very happy that we are here so,let’s go back so we can take those documents and bring them to our boss.” The woman smiled; now Dazai saw that she was not wearing red lipstick, but a purple one. She didn’t look as pretty as before.

“You know that you can’t keep us here with only an Ability, right?, “continued Dazai, all while shooting his most charming smile at the woman.

He was more than sure that the island they were on was part of her ability, so one touch and it would probably vanish. Actually, he was standing on it already, so it was probably already melting, but given that it was such a big object it would take longer for it to go away. But, whatever other spells there were hidden on the island, Dazai nullified them all.

“Oh, I do know that, which is why I don’t intend on keeping you here…”

Chuuya was done listening to the woman’s crap. “What the…,” he threw some gravity discs in her direction, “fuck do you want?” The woman didn’t even move; she raised her arm and made a swift motion, as if she was at a concert and she was the bandmaster. The discs vanished. Chuuya and Dazai were left looking at her surprised; but then they remember the number one rule, the golden rule they must always follow.

They had to do something, but what could they? Why wasn’t Dazai’s ability working already? And what was that from before? Could the woman also nullify somebody’s gift? There were too many questions and Dazai had the answer to only one of it.

No, the woman didn’t have the same ability as Dazai, because that would mean that there was somebody else, another Ability User that brought them to the island. Also, she didn’t even had to touch the discs, they simply went voosh and bye-bye Chuuya’s attack. So, it had to be the island. Maybe this was like some sort of environment where she was able to do whatever she pleased and whatever satisfied her. In other words, a secluded space where she ruled every single rock, every single tiny bit of sand, every single force and every single person.

Well, that would have been bad, if only Dazai wasn’t there. After all, that was his job: to make him and Chuuya un-vulnerable to such attacks. But, why was it not working? Maybe he should get closer to the woman, maybe if he touched her…

“Chuuya, let’s do the thing we did then, when we had to steal those diamonds…you know.” The redhead looked at his partner. He sometimes couldn’t believe that such a fragile person (even though Dazai was much taller than him, but we do NOT talk about that here, in the Port Mafia gang) could make his world so much more than the red angry he used to see. That was before he met Dazai. After that, after they became a team, there was always a black dot in Chuuya’s red world that was jumping and fooling around, making the boy’s head spun.

Chuuya hated that little, tiny, stupid thing! He hated it for confusing him so!

But, it was nice. To be able to see something else than red. Something else than blind anger.

“Are you sure it’s gonna work?” Chuuya asked just because he was used to do so. He trusted his partner completely, meaning that he would follow whatever plans Dazai came up with.

“Have I ever let you down, chibi?”

Chuuya smiled. Did he really hate that Dazai called him chibi? Yes.

“Well, if you say so…but don’t call me that anymore.”

Chuuya smiled. Did he really hate that Dazai called him chibi? No.

Dazai winked and the redhead rolled his eyes. From somewhere very close to them, they could hear the waves crashing onto whatever they were sitting on (an island, an ability or a giant lion-turtle with magical powers). The seagulls seemed agitated – maybe a storm was coming.

“Well, lady, we would love to stay, but he have to go.” Dazai backed a few feet away, discovering that Chuuya was no more by his side. He could see the hole that his partner dug for them to escape, the sand starting to cover it up already.

“Oh no, I am afraid I can’t do that.” Yoko Ogawa smiled.

‘You see, this is my island. Not some playground for such bastards like you.”

And, suddenly, Chuuya was above Dazai’s head floating in the air and the brown-haired could see that he was not using his ability. The redhead looked down and wriggled his legs, he tried to come down but to no use; he got the same feeling as when he was a kid and he couldn’t control his ability. But, now, it wasn’t he that was the problem.

“Dazai, do something!”

Dazai looked at his partner and there were a hundred thought that flooded onto him at the same time. Unfortunately, his instincts took over before he could react rationally. Dazai shot Yoko; she didn’t dodge, she just stopped the bullet with her very own hand.

The little piece of metal was not on the island anymore. When she opened her palm, there was no sign of her previous action; the skin was fine. That did not surprise Dazai. He had a vague idea of what the woman’s ability was…

“DAZAI. I swear to god, I-“

“Shh, little Chuuya,” said Dazai flashing a snakey smile at his friend, “the adults are trying to solve this.”

Yoko Ogawa laughed. The seagulls flew over their heads, not a care in the world. Did they care that Chuuya was hanging seven meters high up in the air and something happened to his ability?

No! And guess who also did not? Dazai. Or at least, that’s what Chuuya thought.

“You consider yourself an adult? Please, you can’t even drink legally.”

“Well, maybe that’s true, but I still think like one. For example, your ability. What do I know about it? That it’s called “Memory Police”. Why I don’t know and I don’t care but I definitely won’t be coming to you to help me choose the name of my ability.” Dazai looked around discreetly. There really was no one around. Now, there was no turning back, anyway. He would just tell the woman what he knew and he would try to resonate with her. If not, there was Chuuya; he knew that he was not alone.

“Oh and also, this island or whatever this is… this sand is not part of your ability. I don’t know, you probably put it here, but this is not a real island.” If Yoko Ogawa was impressed, she didn’t show it.

“You control everything here: even gravity, that’s what Chuuya can’t use his ability. Or, better said, using his ability doesn’t have any effect.”

“Well, aren’t you a clever one?” Yoko looked at Chuuya and with another swift motion of her hand, she let him down. The redhead almost smashed head first if Dazai didn’t run to catch him.

He did not fall into Dazai’s arm, unfortunately, because his long cultivated instincts kicked in and at the last moment he made a pillow of air to sustain himself and then he let himself down carefully.

“You really are clever, but too bad you won’t be around here anymore to see the rest of the story.”

“What…?” Dazai then realized. It was like a premonition; he knew what would happen and it really did happen like that: in the next three seconds, he was thrown around in a black hole, and he was back in the club. The loud music (who played such bad music? Dazai should teach them a lesson later) and the neon lights were messing with his head; he felt like throwing up.

“Wake up, pretty boy ‘cause mama has to give you some pills. You’ll feel better then.”

A voice that Dazai very much did not like was the only thing he heard before he fell asleep. His last thoughts ran off to Chuuya.

Dazai hated himself in general, but now that he had left Chuuya alone, his hatred towards himself seemed to increase. A little.

***

Dazai woke up on the island; he felt his limbs numb, and he tried to move them. He couldn’t, and that didn’t surprise him so much. The memories of what happened yesterday (had it already passed a day? It was hard to tell) came to him slowly and he opened his eyes, even if the bright light was uncomfortable.

He could hear the seagulls, the waves of the sea; and he could smell the salty wind. His eyes started to adjust, but his vision was still a bit hazy. Dazai could see that he was somewhere above the ground, in a metal cage. He did not see Yoko Ogawa.

“Chuuya. Where is Chuuya?”

Dazai found the answer to his question in no time. In the same cage as him, too far away for Dazai to reach and touch him, there was Chuuya, breathing hard. His head was hanging loosely and the red hair covered almost all of his face. He could see that Chuuya was trembling and he could also see the sweat glistening off him in the light of the artificial sun. Chuuya never sweated. Dazai suspected that both of them had been drugged.

“Chuuya…Hey, Chuuya,” whispered Dazai, his voice going hoarse in the middle of the sentence. The redhead didn’t move. His hands were pinned above his head, cuffed with iron chains covering his small palms completely. His long-sleeved shirt revealed some delicate skin; and Dazai then saw it.

How could he not from the start, he didn’t know. Chuuya’s hands where covered in that red, snake-like pattern that Dazai did very much not like; the stripes seemed alive, as if there was something impure lurking under his skin, some kind of disease, some kind of filthy demon. Dazai shuddered.

So, his partner used Corruption. What was he thinking? Didn’t he knew that the woman controlled everything on the island? That he had no chance of winning?

But, why was he not doing anything now? How much time has passed since Chuuya was in that state? Again, Dazai was left with too many unanswered questions.

He tried to calm himself. He looked above himself and saw that his hands were also pinned up like Chuuya’s. He tried to think logically; would Chuuya use Corruption if Dazai was not around, if he hadn’t chance to come back to his human-self? No. That was for sure.

Which meant that it had to do either with the island, with Yoko Ogawa’s ability or with the fact that they both have been drugged. Dazai chose the second option. So, what was it? What kind of drug? He could only take guess: maybe it was something that brought Corruption to surface; and even if Chuuya tried to use the ability, he could not, because Yoko was controlling the gravity around him, so that he could not escape.

So, the woman was probably around here. Dazai should be careful about what he was saying, about how he revealed his plans to Chuuya. But, Yoko Ogawa didn’t know that Dazai figured that much, so maybe he could use that to his advantage.

A seagull stopped on the cage, making it move a little.

“Are you awake already?” The voice came from down, from under the cage. It made sense; it was the only place where Dazai could not see. The brown-haired man didn’t say anything, and the other part also stopped asking questions.

Right now, Dazai had one big problem; he needed to touch Chuuya, so that he could deactivate Corruption. But, how? He didn’t even feel his hands. He didn’t feel his whole body, damn it!

“Chuuya, are you awake?, “ asked Dazai, but he got no response. He knew that the woman was clever; she did manage to bring them into this situation, after all, so he had to be careful.

“Chuuya!” This time, Dazai called his friend loud enough that it was impossible for Yoko not to hear.

“Oh, so you are awake. Then shall I explain the situation you are into right now? You have to understand the rules of the game form the start, so that you don’t make any mistakes.” Dazai tried moving his fingers, but he wasn’t sure if he succeeded or not; they were like a piece of meat attached to his body with a rope. Useless.

“If you would be so kind.” Dazai could almost hear the smile in the woman’s voice as she spoke.

“Well, I think that you figured pretty much already, but I am too excited so I am going to tell it to you once more. So, you both have been given a drug. Yours is just something plain, and it was not administrated in a big quantity; you still need to see this plan unfold right before your eyes and you can’t be high for that to happen.” She stopped and took a deep breath. She seemed to be happy with herself. At the same time, Chuuya made a slight movement, but Dazai saw it. His friend was starting to wake up. It was going good.

“And, well maybe you asked yourself: what does that drug exactly do? And maybe you thought that it brings out the god-form of your partner. And you are right, but not entirely. Because this drug doesn’t only bring your partner’s inner demon…”

Dazai clenched his teeth. Chuuya was more of a human that that woman would ever be. Chuuya was not a demon; maybe he looked like one, maybe he sometimes acted like one (only around Dazai though), but he was not a demon.

How should Dazai put this? He always found himself admiring Chuuya, that succeeded in keeping his humanity, even when he had the powers of a god. Dazai couldn’t even do that, he, a regular person.

Chuuya was more human than Dazai would ever be.

“…it forces the kid to fight with it.” Dazai almost missed the last part as he tried to escape from his shackles. He stopped his action at once. What did Yoko mean?

Suddenly, Chuuya jerked forward. His chains hit the metal bars of the cage and clinked; like the bells on a wedding day. It was as a veil had been put over Dazai’s eyes, over his intern logic. He felt physical pain by just looking at Chuuya, just by looking at his small partner struggling like a trapped animal, his body spasming uncontrollably. And, all Dazai could do was watch.

Chuuya cried in pain. He was breathing hard, almost chocking on something that was not there. His eyes were hollow; two white, milky spheres, showing no emotion, empty. There was a liquid rolling down his cheeks, from his eyes, something like tears, but with a coarse density. Chuuya was shaking and crying and Dazai could not do anything.

“See, this is the thing the drug does. He will die in no time.”

It still hurt. But, he got used to it. He was strong enough to do so. It was like he didn’t feel it anymore, actually.

No, this time, Dazai would not get over it. He just lost Odasaku. He could not lose Chuuya. Not him. Not him, not him, not him…

His head was spinning. He lied, he lied. Dazai fucking lied! He felt it all, he felt the pain, he felt the guilt of his past actions hanging around his neck, suffocating him every time he tried to go down, towards the mortal world, towards what he loves. He hated it.

Dazai fainted. Right then and right there. It was too much, too much, too much, even for him. Tears poured out of his close eyes; he had finally let his guard down.

The seagulls sang a song only for the two of them; only for Chuuya and Dazai to hear. The birds sang in their crooked voice; they sounded like a broken clock.

Chuuya fainted from all the pain shortly after his partner, but he knew he was not going to die. After all, he had somebody else to protect from death.

***

Dazai woke up in white room. To be honest, he had first thought that he died. That was how he always thought the afterlife would look like.

Well, he would have definitely be dead if there wasn’t a certain redhead lying motionless on the floor. Suddenly, the memories of the club, of the island, of Chuuya shouting in pain came back to Dazai and he ran towards his friend.

It couldn’t be… Were they both dead? No, no…

He knelt down and checked Chuuya’s pulse. There was nothing. But, his partner did look normal. He didn’t have the red stripes over his body anymore. But, he was not breathing. Did they really die? Was that…

Chuuya sit up straight, slamming his head into Dazai’s nose. The redhead coughed a fistful of blood and then wiped his mouth with a gloved hand.

“Chuuya~!,” screamed Dazai in surprise.

“What the fuck… Where are we?”

Chuuya looked around, clearly confused. Actually, what was there to look at? They were literally in a room (or maybe it was a white infinity) and the boy seemed even paler than before.

“Ah…” Chuuya shoved his head into his hands. “Don’t you tell me you actually convinced me to commit double-suicide with you!”

The redhead took Dazai by the collar of his coat and swung him around.

“Or, what stupid thing did you do to bring us into this kinda situation? I swear…” Dazai laughed wholeheartedly and Chuuya raised his fist. Ah, yes. The good ol’ fight between friends – or whatever they were.

“Chuuya, don’t! Wait, let me explain!” The little boy calmed down a bit. He took a deep breath and sat on the floor, cross-legged. Or maybe it was the ceiling or another wall. He didn’t even want to think about their situation. His head hurt already so bad, and he still had to deal with the nuisance in front of him.

“Ok, then go on, you shitty…”

“Shh, Chuuya, don’t use such words,” said Dazai, putting his index finger on Chuuya’s lips. The redhead looked at it and his blue eyes hid emotions Dazai could not recognize. But, whatever was lying there, he could for sure say that those ocean-like orbits were luminous. So bright and so lovely, Dazai would love to drown in them. A perfect way to die, he considered. He sighed; if only Chuuya would let him.

“OUCH! CHUUYA!” Dazai retreated his wounded finger and looked at his partner. There was a fresh, red stain on Chuuya’s lips, from the blood that had flowed out Dazai fingers; Chuuty really bit him!

“What are you, seventh grade? A dog should not bite his master!!” As Dazai was wrapping up a small bandage over his finger, Chuuya licked his lips; such a salty taste made him shiver for some reason.

“And, for you to know, it was not my fault. You tried to shut me up! From using cursed words or whatever… Fuck that, I always curse!”

Dazai made a tsk-tsk sound, but said nothing more. Chuuya looked at him and sighed, laying on his back. He thought about the situation they were in. It was most likely a dream caused by the drugs he and Dazai have been injected with.

He would not want to wake up.

“Chuuya, let’s play a game! I’m bored! Let’s play truth or dare!”

He would very much like to wake up.

“Oi, Dazai, shut up I am trying to think.” No, he wasn’t but Dazai didn’t knew that.

“Oh, ok, I’ll be quiet, you need after all some practice.” Chuuya did not say anything; every word would be like fuel to an already massive fire. He, for once, shut up.

Did he think that Dazai would leave him alone? Yeah.

Did Dazai leave him alone? Nope.

“Chuuya~! Let’s play, please!! I’ve got some really good questions!”

The redhead ignored him at first, pretending to be asleep. Of course Dazai hadn’t fallen for it. The brown-haired man decided that if that was how Chuuya would play, then he wouldn’t be nice either. With only a war-like scream, Dazai hurled over Chuuya and started to tickle his sides. Chuuya burst out in laughter, trying to push Dazai off, but without succeeding.

“Dazai you ~haha~ little brat, if I put my hands on you!!~stop –hahah- don’t tickle me there!”

“I’ll stop if you play Truth or Dare with me.” Chuuya continued to laugh and he chocked, but Dazai had no mercy. He tickled him until his fingers hurt.

“Ok, ok, ~hiC~ I’ll play, get off you mother ~HIc~fucker…”

Dazai got off in an instant, clearly pleased with himself. Chuuya tried to catch his breath; the touch of Dazai’s fingers still felt so real to him. There, on his left ribs, a little lower than his heart, where he was most ticklish. There on his stomach, where Chuuya didn’t like to be touched (he didn’t mind now tho). There on…

What was he thinking?

He got up, sitting with his legs crossed again. He eyes Dazai that was also standing like that, at only 4 inches away from him. He reached out and punched his friend.

“I’ll kill you, Dazai, you shitty suicidal maniac, if you ever do that to me again!” Dazai only laughed; he was already good friends with these kind of threats; that he knew would never actually happen.

“Ok, Chuuya, you go first!” Chuuya sighed.

“Geez, I feel like a seventh grader, not that I’ve actually been to school before…”

“You do have the behavior of a seventh grader, but unfortunately not the brains of one.”

“Do you want to have no brains at all?”

“Is this the question you are asking for the game? Then, no I don’t really, but I would rather blow them up myself. Not the best way to go, but it’s an option, I guess.”

Chuuya shook his head. How did he end with such a moron?

“How can we play when you are making this so difficult?” yelled Chuuya, suddenly wanting to slap Dazai. In fact, no, it wasn’t suddenly, he always wanted to slap Dazai, yes, the urge was always there. And moments like these was what it took for him to actually do it.

“Chuu~huya, it’s not your turn anymore!” sang Dazai, smiling and provoking Chuuya with his gaze. The redhead calmed himself; he should not use his energy on that bastard after all. He sighed again; he felt like he did that too often when he was around Dazai. He did it rhythmically, like the sound of a good, completely functioning clock.

“Ok, then you go now.” Dazai beamed and Chuuya’s heart sink; was that what made him happy?

“Chibi…”

“Don’t call me that.”

“Shrimp…”

“If you call me that, I’ll call you mackerel for the rest of our lives.”

“My life won’t last, I’ll make sure of it so I don’t really care.”

“Just ask the question already.”

Dazai shot Chuuya an evil smile. The evilest smile Chuuya had ever seen. His brows furrowed. He was getting kind of scared…

“Truth or Dare?”

“What?” asked Chuuya, still a little bit lost into his thoughts.

“That’s how you play the game, chibi. Or did you not have someone to teach you that?”

“O-of course I played before!” stuttered Chuuya and he tried to show Dazai that by looking directly into those brown-red eyes, eyes like the withered camellias in Chuuya’s room that he forgot to water. His lie didn’t get past Dazai; but the boy decided to drop it or else Chuuya might really beat him.

“Ok then Truth or Dare?” Chuuya thought for a second.

“Truth.” Dazai closed his eyes and put his hands together as if he was meditating. Chuuya rolled his eyes, but the corners of his mouth were still lifted upwards. Just a little bit.

“Hm~It has to be a really good question…” Dazai sat like that for several minutes in which Chuuya just looked at him.

He always thought Dazai was beautiful. Like a withered camellia. Don’t ask Chuuya why, he wasn’t good at poetic descriptions, Dazai just seemed like a camellia person. His hair was soft like the small petals of his favorite flower. He was even built like a camellia; slim and tall (Not so tall that Chuuya couldn’t outgrow him someday, though), a slender silhouette, that Chuuya felt like he should take care of everyday.

Else, it would wither away.

“Ok I know. Say Chuuya, is it true that a few days ago, when you screamed in the middle of the night was because Koyo waxed your leg?”

Chuuya chocked on nothing. Well, that was true, but how did Dazai find out?

“Uhm…Yeah, it’s true. It hurt like a bitch. I don’t know how women do that on a regular basis.”

Dazai laughed out loud, startling Chuuya.

“Why are you laughing, you miso-“ Dazai wiped a tear and lied down, looking at Chuuya upside down.

“I am not laughing at women, I am laughing at you, ‘cause I didn’t expect you would admit it. Either way, I already knew because I was the one who set it up. I have also filmed it!”

Chuuya was confused. He felt like Dazai would do that, he could really see him, but that was also something that he did not expect.

“You… what?”

***

“Dazai, I think that’s enough drinks you had there,” said Oda, visibly concerned for his friend. The bar smelled like his favorite whiskey; Dazai held a glass in his hand, the bottle the bartender had bought more than three quarters empty.

“BOOO, you shut up, you just a hallucination…” Dazai looked at Oda through half closed eyelids. The clock on the wall made a ding-dong sound, reminding them that the midnight had come. Dazai almost jumped off his chair.

“Dazai, stop…”begged Oda, but the brown-haired man didn’t even cared as he chugged down the bottle.

“No, Oda, I am not here to listen to you, you are here to listen to me.”

`I have listened to you enough. I changed my life because you said so. You can also listen to me right now.`

Dazai didn’t say that, but it wasn’t necessary because Odasaku heard it anyway. After all, he did live in Dazai’s head.

***

They played Truth or Dare for hours. Days maybe? They didn’t know. It was like a dream; with each question, Chuuya and Dazai would insult each other more, would find more dark secrets about each other.

With each question, Chuuya and Dazai would love each other more.

Right now, Chuuya was standing in Dazai’s lap, the taller man (though Chuuya still had time to overgrow him! Let’s not forget that) combing his long fingers through the red hair. It wasn’t silky, but not wiry either. It smelled like strawberries.

The room they were in wasn’t white anymore. It was filled with their stories and with their laughter, with their love, with their hate for each other. It was more like a pretty orange-pink shade. Their voices echoed in the colorful infinity.

“Chuuya, it’s your turn.”

“I feel like we don’t even have what to ask each other anymore.” Dazai started braiding Chuuya’s hair gently, careful not to hurt the boy in his lap.

“Come on, think of something.” Chuuya closed his eyes and scrunched his nose.

“Dazai, do you really want to die? So bad that you…” Dazai’s hands stopped their movement and the room seemed to become colder. He cleared his throat; he was afraid that his voice would break when he gave Chuuya the answer. He gathered his courage and finally admitted to somebody else than himself.

“Yes. But I’m a coward. I can’t do it. I love this world, even if it scares me. Even if it hurts. There are so many beautiful things here. And I’m just too afraid to leave them here.”

Chuuya didn’t say anything, just placed himself better into Dazai’s lap.

“I don’t think you are a coward. I think what you are doing is an act of dumb courage.”

“Really?” laughed Dazai, starting to braid Chuuya’s hair again.

“Yes. To decide to live into this world, to just live here alone… You feel lonely, don’t you? Since he died.”

Dazai gasped. He knew who Chuuya was referring to. Was it yesterday that Odasku died? Or was it better than a week since then? Dazai couldn’t tell. But it hurt like hell. And it was still stinging his heart, like an open wound that will leave a very big scar.

Dazai lied.

“He was just a friend. I will get over it. I am used to this.”

Chuuya suddenly reached for Dazai’s face and touched it with his gloved hands. It was as if they were high; high on their secrets, stories and whispers only they had ever heard.

“Don’t lie.” Dazai averted his gaze.

“It’s my turn. Truth or Dare?” Chuuya felt his heart sink.

“Dare.” Dazai looked down at Chuuya again and got closer. Chuuya’s hair was half braided.

“I dare you to kiss me.” Chuuya blinked and he looked into Dazai’s eyes. He saw it then; that sad happiness. He would do it; he wanted to. He wanted so bad to do it.

“Ok.” Chuuya lifted his head and Dazai lowered his. Their lips found each other, almost clumsily and it was only a brief touch but both their hearts felt like they would jump from their chests and ran off together, lost into the colorful infinity that only the two of them had built.

They alone. They were alone together.

They kissed delicately, and the next thing they knew, they were back into the cage on the beach. Back to reality and their separate loneliness.

***

The sun was setting lazily behind Dazai. He opened his eyes and he felt his head hurt. The smell of slat and the sound of waves. His wrists hurt. He took a deep breath and vomited.

“Oh, finally! I thought you were dead!” Yoko Ogawa’s voice was like a harsh ringing in Dazai’s ears.

“I would love to, trust me…” The brown haired man looked around him; he was still in the cage, but he could now move his body somewhat. Chuuya was in front of him, though he looked paler than before. His arms were tied up, but the metal gloves around his hands were no more. Probably from all the gravity pressure he and Yoko exerted. Chuuya’s head was resting against the metal bars and Dazai sucked in a breath.

One of his eyes was blue and wide open, but dark somehow; looking dead. The other was still a white ball, the light reflecting on its shiny surface. There were tears of blood coming down on Chuuya’s cheek from his blue eye; from the other, something as tears but much more dense. Dazai wanted to reach and wiped them away, he wanted to so bad.

His face, his body, every inch of skin Dazai could see was covered in those red stripes, like camellia petals. He felt like he would vomit again. They were a dark nuance of red, an ill light still coming to the surface from under them.

Dazai had a lot of time to think in his dream (which he could not remember very clearly) One thing he knew, he and Chuuya came up with a plan to escape. Well, it was based on Dazai’s guesses about Yoko’s ability, but if what he thought was true, then his plan was flawless.

Kind of. He hoped so.

“How long have we slept for?” asked Dazai, but expecting to not be answered.

“About three hours. “ Hm. It felt like a lot more time to Dazai. He wondered if Chuuya had the same dream… He shook his head. It was impossible.

“Why didn’t you kill us while we were sleeping? It would have been easy.” He heard the sound of feet on sand and he looked down. Finally, he could see Yoko. The woman looked up at him, a malicious smile stretching on her purple lips. Kind of the worst combination possible with the orange light of the sun setting on her face.

“Well, where would be the fun in that? You have to watch your friend die first.”

Dazai scoffed. Did the people around him thought that he could not take it? That he was not strong enough to?

Maybe they were right, but they would never know. Because Dazai never cried. There was always someone that would see him; he had to always be ready, he could never let his guard down. Even when he was alone, he was not. His fifteen year old self was laughing at him from the mirror, and his head was stuffed with voices that were not his own. Or maybe they were?

And then there was Oda. Since he died, he followed Dazai like a blood ghost, guiding him, protecting him and making the voices from his head go away at times. Even now, he was standing in the cage, dripping blood from his wound.

“Do you have a plan?” Dazai ignored Odasaku and responded to Yoko instead.

“I already watched my friend die. Actually, no, I watched my friends die. There were more. I am the only one left as you can see. Chuuya is not my friend.”

Yoko remained silent for some time and then pointed her index at Dazai.

“You are just a kid; you know nothing about this kind of things, but you still think you do. You still think you are above the world. You think that…”

She stopped mid-sentence and flicked her wrist. Dazai’s shackles tighten around his hands and he felt as if they were almost chopped off. Blood started to drip on the metal floor, mixing with the vomit from earlier. Drops of the strange mix trickled down onto the sand. Dazai held his screams in.

“You think that you know how this world is! You know NOTHING!” Yoko twisted Dazai’s left wrist. He squeaked in pain and like that, with his eyes shut close, he did not see Chuuya slowly getting up. Neither did Yoko Ogawa.

It was as if the woman had gone mad. Yes, she was crazy, there was not a single thing about her that could be described as sane, but what happened to her?

Dazai didn’t know that, like him, Yoko Ogawa heard voices, he didn’t know that he was followed by her own ghosts dripping in blood that she spilled.

“Kill them…” “Yes, now…like you did to us…”

“Murderer….! I hate you.”

“Mama, don’t! Mama, mama, hahaha…”

“Do it, darling, kill them, kill them, kill, kill, kill…”

“Kill, kill…”

“Mama!”

Yoko ignored them and broke Dazai’s left hand. Tears rolled down her face. The voices of her family hit her like the waves hit the island. A storm was coming; the sky was getting grayer, darker and it was not long before rain started pouring. It hit the metal cage violently. Yoko’s makeup didn’t seem to be waterproof; her mascara was all over her face and she was still twisting Dazai’s arm, without mercy.

The boy closed his eyes and bit his lips and did not make a sound. It was raining as that day.

“Do you have a plan?” Odasaku would just not leave him alone.

“I do, I do… Now quiet.”

Suddenly the metal cage shuddered and Dazai opened his eyes only to see a red flash in all the grayness surrounding him. It was Chuuya, it had to be! And yes, here he was indeed! It seemed that Yoko could not control two things at a time. Dazai’s guess was correct. His plan didn’t involve in getting his hand destroyed though, but it didn’t matter anymore. He was just glad that it worked out.

He heard Chuuya grunt and he watched down to see his friend trying to reach at Yoko, a fight where both sides had gravity as their ally. Who would win?

Chuuya looked up at Dazai. His eyes were not hollow; they were both blue and full of live and he smiled as he pushed harder and harder until Yoko was half buried in the wet sand. The sea was ragging.

But, suddenly two women came running. They were behind Chuuya, so he didn’t saw them, but Dazai did. His shackles were now merely some pieces of chopped metal. And he still had one good arm. He quickly escaped from them and jumped off, holding his gun pointed at the women. They looked at him surprised and then at the cage, at Chuuya and at their boss and exchanged a look.

They charged forward and Dazai shot them. He missed. He missed and the women could have killed him, but there was no need. They ran towards him but did not stop. One of them pulled out a blade and cut Dazai’s stomach. He collapsed and cursed his weakness. But, he did not cry.

He caught a glimpse of Chuuya being thrown over and that was all. Then he fainted again.

*** “Well, you sure fainted very much in this story,” said Odasaku, looking at a half-wasted Dazai from across the table. He didn’t even try to stop him anymore. Chuuya would come to pick him up afterwards anyway.

“Yeah~!I was ~hic~ dipressed.” Dazai’s head was spinning, but he wanted to finish the story. There was only a little bit to it…

“You mean depressed?”

“Yeah, what~hIc~ever now shut up and listen, Oda! This is a legendary story! I bet those kids of yours will love it!” Odasaku sighed and looked at the watch on his wrist. It was a little bit after midnight. He nodded towards Dazai as his friend started to narrate his love story again, interrupted only by his hiccups and the sound of a broken clock.

***

Dazai woke up with a stinging pain flowing from his arm, exhausting his whole body. A seagull was picking at his hair and only for that reason did Dazai sprung up and made the bird fly away. His whole body was feeling hot; did he have a fever?

He tried lifting his right arm, but it was too hard. He looked down at it and the sight of Chuuya’s fingers being intertwined with his made him recall everything that happened. He quickly checked Chuuya’s heartbeat; it was there, and Dazai let out a joyful breath. It was weak, but it was ok, everything was going to be ok…

Dazai got up and put Chuuya’s arm over his shoulder. His left arm was completely ruined; it didn’t even hurt anymore, there was only a sense of numbness. It was going to be alright, repeated Dazai to himself, struggling to walk with Chuuya hanging on him

He would go and leave the Port Mafia. Maybe Chuuya would want to come with him. Maybe they would go overseas and start their own business. Maybe something like an orphanage, maybe they would buy a house and they would stay there.

Chuuya wouldn’t have to use his ability anymore. They would be normal, they would be good people, better than they are now. Yes, and maybe he and Chuuya could go watch the pink cherry flowers bloom, they could make snowmen in the winter, they could everything neither of them got a chance to as a kid.

They could watch the moon on a windy autumn night, while the pie they had tried to cook for hours is burning in the oven they set wrong. The moonlight would illuminate Chuuya so beautifully, accentuating his blue eyes. And maybe Dazai could lean down and…

“DIE! Die you filthy bastards, you motherfuckers, you gross me out! Die, die, die!!” Yoko Okawa’s voice startled Dazai as the woman came towards them. Her hair was a total mess, and her purple lipstick has been replaced by red stains of dried blood. Only now did Dazai see the other two women lying lifeless on the sand, face up, eyes open, their throats violently split by human hand.

Dazai tried to go out of Yoko’s path but he felt an overwhelming force pinning him down. He looked at Chuuya who opened his eyes. They were not full of freedom; there was nothing else than pain and anger there. He didn’t know where his friend gathered all that energy to keep going.

It was a mystery for him.

Yoko approached, her legs trembling.

“Die, die, die!” cried she as tears ran down her face, as her hand was gripping on a pointy rock as she was slipping on the blood the ghosts around her left behind them.

“Mama, come to us…”

“Don’t kill them, mama! We love you!” “Darling, we are waiting. Come to us.”

She stumbled and she fell face forward on the rock she was holding. Dazai winced; blood splashed on his clothes and he heard the woman murmur:

“I am coming, my kids.”

And then the island fell silent. Chuuya coughed and Dazai looked down to see the red sand before him. The redhead did not stop and only now did Dazai notice the wound on his torso. It seemed like a knife cut and even if Chuuya tried to suppress the hemorrhage, it was still bleeding pretty hard. His friend went numb in his arms again and the island disappeared right before Dazai could assure Chuuya it was ok.

***

They were back in the club. The people around them seemed to not notice anything unusual about the two members of the Port Mafia.

Dazai’s mind was finally starting to function. He needed a hospital for Chuuya, quickly or else it was possible for him to…

No, he first had to get out of there. The music (who the FUCK plays such bad music, now let’s be serious!) was making his head hurt and the smell of piss and beer didn’t help either.

He took a deep breath as soon as he was outside. His muscles were sore and his left arm started to awake. But, Chuuya was his priority. Dazai rummaged through Chuuya’s jacket and he pulled out the keys of the motorcycle (Jenna, that was what Chuuya named her) and smiled tired. He clicked the red button and he heard a ding-dong noise.

He loved Jenna! It was on her way to Dazai and Chuuya. The brown haired thought; once he had Jenna, he would bring Chuuya to a hospital. What was the closest one? Hm…

“Dazai…” Chuuya’s voice was hoarse as he spoke. “Dazai, please don’t leave me…” Dazai looked down at his friend surprised and chuckled. He brushed Chuuya’s hair out of his face.

“But, you are a god and I am human. We can’t be together.” Dazai felt a stinging pain in his heart as soon as his words left his lips. It hurt him more that the pain in his arm, more than anything he ever experienced.

“Then, from now on… you’re no longer human. So, just stay with me.” Dazai’s heart twisted in his chest and he nodded, even Chuuya could not see him.

“Ok, Chuuya. I’ll stay with you forever.”

***

“And this is how I got the name of my ability,” finished Dazai, smashing the empty bottle of whiskey on the counter. Odasaku nodded.

“Hm, I guess it could have been worse.”

“You, shut up! You old hag ~HIC~!!” Dazai covered his mouth. “HGG, I feel like throwing up…” Odasaku sighed and pated his friend on the shoulder.

“Well, I should go.” Dazai sprung up and pointed accusatory at the man in front of him. The empty room smelled like Odasaku’s favorite whiskey.

“You will leave me here? In this ~bleaghh…” Dazai had thrown up on Odasaku’s shoes and the man looked indignanted at the only one that was still keeping him alive. He smiled and he exited on the door.

“Don’t worry, I’ll always be with you. And, don’t forget that there is someone else you are waiting for.” Dazai didn’t hear those words as he was already asleep.

***

In the other part of the town, a phone rang. The man who owned it put his glass of wine down and answered.

“Who is it?” The man listened closely to what the one who called him had to say. He nodded a few times and then said:

“I understand. I’ll be there in a moment.”

Chuuya went into his garage and pulled Jenna out and as he was thinking about what he was going to do, he smiled. That dumbass.

***

The door of Lupin opened as the clock struck midnight again. It was definitely broken. Chuuya eyed his former partner, that was sleeping on the counter, his hair covering his closed eyes. Chuuya approached and he felt something slippery under his feet.

Of course he had to walk straight in Dazai’s vomit. Of course there was no other way. The bartender appeared and greeted Chuuya, smiling at him. The redhead nodded.

“Thank you for calling me. Do I have to pay for anything?”asked Chuuya, already drawing his wallet out of his jacket.

“No, no, it’s ok.” Chuuya frowned at man and slammed 50 bucks on the table.

“For dealing with this idiot for such a long time.” The bartender smiled and sighed.

“I see you know how…peculiar this man can be.” Chuuya burst out in laughter as he drew Dazai’s arm over his shoulder and exited from the bar in the cold night.

“I know better than anyone.” He walked with Dazai to Jenna and he tried to wake up the man. By slapping him hard on the face. It worked.

“Ouch, what was…” Dazai’s face lighted when he saw who had come for him. “Chuuya! I’ve been waiting for you!” Chuuya rolled his eyes and raised his palm warningly.

“Hop up right now or I’ll slap you again.” Dazai looked at his friend and he chuckled. He sat up on Jenna, almost falling once, but Chuuya put him back in place.

“Chuuya~!”

“What do you want, motherfucker?? Isn’t it enough that I came to pick you up, drunk, at such an hour!?”

“Can I sleep at your place?”

Chuuya hoped on his motorcycle and almost punched Dazai. He started Jenna and screamed over the sound of her motor:

“You are crazy!”

“I am!”

Dazai smiled and nestled himself into Chuuya’s body. It smelled like peaches and wine. He closed his eyes and let himself fall back into sleep.

“I’ve been waiting for you, Chuuya” murmured he as his eyes close one more time. Chuuya remained silent as they left Lupin far away behind them.

Waiting for you sounds like a broken clock.

****

End Notes

And, yes, while they stayed in that white room (i leave it to you to decide what that was) dazai did tell chuuya that he was leaving the port mafia. and yes chuuya did punch him and he also told dazai that he cant come with him and refused to explain further. for that, he had to let dazai tickle him because i REFUSE to believe dazai left like that he cant he is better that this

i think? ok hope you liked it bye bye muah

#soukoku #dazai x chuuya #dazai osamu #chuuya nakara #bungou stray dogs #fanfiction #bsd fanfic #my AO3

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