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gaoau · 9 months ago

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this stage is not made for two—i'll take the spotlight, you'll take a bow

theory of the two demons warnings — none word count — 3.8k

prev. — next.

unfortunately, just as Mori said, once Dazai is done with his tantrum, he returns to the Port Mafia in one piece. and also with an additional piece. [Name] doesn't hear of these news until too late, bumping into him on their way to pay Q a visit. he can tell they're failing to notice him walking their way. they mistake him for another shadow blending in with the darkness of the hallway. he stands still, watching them approach, waiting for the right moment to strike. he pastes a childlike grin on his face and waves. still, he's nothing but a black spot among blackness.

"[Name]!" Dazai cheers, uncharacteristically excited.

nearly jumping out of their own skin, [Name] freezes, shoulders tense. they meet his smile in horror. they think someone should have informed them about this. then they think that's not true.

they glare wide-eyed at the boy right in front of them, but he's still missing in action. this is not Dazai. it's the same white shirt, black coat, black tie, covered eye, sloppily cut bandages. it's all the same, but this new cheery disposition of his makes [Name] believe this is not the same Dazai that beats them bloody every chance he gets. a bottomless pit for an eye suddenly seems to reflect the light. genuine excitement bubbles from the core of his chest. as if he's found access to something new, something to keep him on his toes, something he can't read as easily as he reads everything else.

[Name] frowns. there's no hostility—yet—but they take an instinctual step back. "welcome back, Dazai-san," they pronounce through nearly gritted teeth.

and Dazai notices it, too.

his grin shrinks ever so slightly while he analyzes the kid before him. this is not [Name]. it's the same white shirt, rolled-up sleeves, black tie, empty eyes, obstreperous anger. it's all the same, but there's an odd change; he finds it hard to believe this is the same kid whose heart he'd strangled and wrung dry. a slight difference he can't quite put his finger on—both in their appearance and their inflections. he knew [Name] would bounce back, but not become significantly bolder. as if there's something new taming their wrath, something modifying their voice, something he finds annoying by nature.

but he laughs it off, airy chuckles that flutter through the air and tickle [Name]'s ears. "so you're talking now?"

"and you're still alive."

Dazai blinks. they bite back now. he can't exactly call this defiance. it's similar. it's [Name] before they met him. it's [Name] calling him a coward to his face. he can compete; he's taught them all they know. "right back at you. Mori-san told me you were close to slitting your wrists." he takes a step closer. they stay in place. his grin vanishes completely.

they don't believe his words for a second. "ah, really?" and there it is again. a particular tone he's heard a billion times already. "you do know i've things to finish, though." a natural growl on the edge of their syllables that wasn't there before. it's frustrating.

"well, i thought you didn't ha—" Dazai cuts himself off instantly upon finding the obnoxious change that's been grating on his nerves. his eyes zero in on [Name]'s neck. where he usually finds that fascinating burn scar from leather straps, he now recognizes an all-too-familiar buckle covering it perfectly. "ha—" [Name] raises a brow like he's grown a second head. at this point, he might as well have. "hang—back up, back up. is that Chuuya's choker you're wearing?!" his voice echoes in the hallway, sheer disbelief making his exclamation crack.

[Name] flinches at the accusatory finger pointing right at their jugular. subconsciously, they reach up to their neck and brush their fingers over the cold metal. the smooth leather feels somewhat comforting. "uh, yeah…" they hesitate on their words. this childish, dramatic attitude of his is disturbingly unsettling. "he said my scars reminded him too much of you. it was really offensive, but i see where he's coming from."

"offensive? what, you actually like Chuuya?" he scoffs. he crosses his arms over his chest and childishly turns away from [Name], huffing loudly.

"yeah, he's cool."

just as quick, he whips back towards them as he gasps dramatically. eyes wide and an exaggerated frown on his forehead, he cradles his head in his hands. "so that's why you sound like him. you think he's cool and i'm offensive. i can't believe my own mentee would backstab me like this. i only left for a few weeks."

[Name] stares horrified as Dazai light-heartedly carries himself with overflowing jokes and dramatics. like this is playful banter, like they're two friends hanging out after school, like they'll laugh it off once [Name] reassures him they'd never replace him with Chuuya. (like Q isn't confined and alone.) it's true he only disappeared for a few weeks, but that is what baffles [Name] the most. how can he possibly be so bright and excited all of a sudden? just what happened to make him like this in such a short amount of time?

whatever it was, [Name] never wants to go through it.

as Dazai continues mumbling nonsense to himself, [Name] clears their throat. it doesn't shut him up. they grumble to themself before properly asking, "why didn't you kill yourself?"

that seems to catch his interest. he ceases tearing his hair out over a plausible universe in which Chuuya is actually better than him to look [Name] in the eye. releasing his grasp on his own head, he hums in contemplation. "i'm holding off on it for a bit. i've found interesting people."

"interesting?"

"an assassin who doesn't kill—maybe former assassin is a better title. what can i say? i like working in the Port Mafia. i'm curious to see where Odasaku goes from here."

"Odasaku?"

"a friend."

a friend? Dazai Osamu, of all people, calling someone else a friend? it's hard to believe—it's almost completely impossible to believe. [Name] doesn't know how to read Dazai past the one thing they share in common. they can't tell if this is simply just another lie he's making up for himself to please an empty life. they know he'll never be full again, no matter who he kills or who he saves, who he befriends or who he scorns.

"you know," they start, hollow scowl staring into his uncovered eye. Dazai hums. "Chuuya-san called you lousy, right before he gave me his choker."

"hah?! i'll have you know i—"

"i see what he meant. you have lousy excuses to avoid death. anything will do the trick for you." they're biting back and they're latching onto his arm and they're not letting go until he returns everything he's taken from them. his theatrics don't reach them the same way they reach everyone else.

Dazai smirks to himself. this is rather unexpected, although nothing is ever unexpected for him. he won't shake them off. he'll let them stare into his eyes and tell him if they genuinely think he's laughing. "they're not excuses." they're buts; yes, he wants to die, but he's not sure how, and yes, he wants to live a little longer, but he can't guess just how much. "i just have a few expectations here and there, and they're being met one by one."

"you want to live?"

to feel the anguish and void of existence. to live until the charm fizzles off. to die knowing exactly what he is. (to die knowing exactly the demonic crown he wears will weigh on his head for eternity.)

he exaggerates a sigh, frustrated, "no, no, i never—see? this is what i mean. Chuuya said the same thing when we met. i still want to die, of course, just not now." his words gather like a storm cloud. all of them, from the weightless jokes to the haunting excuses he spits out, darken up beneath his pillow at night.

[Name] remains silent. they can't argue; they know they can't when they used the same reasoning to hold Q's hand. they don't say anything, because they hate to agree, but they do. they do agree. to live a little longer, to not die just yet, to protect life because it's worth the scars on their skin.

it will all rain down soon.

"boss," [Name] greets with a bow as they close the door behind them.

"[Name]-kun." Mori smiles at them and their unexpected visit. he guesses they must not be happy about being under Dazai's mentoring again. it's only been a little over a week. he doesn't confirm it, letting them talk.

voice soft and gentle, they ask, "would it be possible to request a mentor transfer?" airy and light, like a soothing lullaby. like they'll never hope for anything, like they won't murder, like they admire all his qualities. but they speak bitterly.

"who would you like?"

"Nakahara Chuuya-san, boss."

Mori contemplates the request. puzzle pieces clicking together flawlessly. he waves his hand dismissively. "i'm afraid Chuuya-kun doesn't have what Dazai-kun does for you."

[Name] stares blankly at the response hanging in the air. Mori hears their anger bubble, rattling the whole building. Chuuya would have shattered the floor by now. they've produced better results under Chuuya's instructions than they ever have with Dazai. they both know that. but [Name] bows again and excuses themself. Mori watches them exit his office with a chuckle.

he knows this scheme of his will work out.

Dazai hunches over the counter, a dramatic, childish pout twisting his face. he curses incoherently to himself as he flicks his finger against the rim of his empty whiskey glass. it chimes and echoes in synchrony with the smooth jazz playing in the background. if there's one thing he doesn't struggle with, it's manipulating people to his heart's content—the man beside him being an exception—so why can't he wrap his head around [Name]? they've been simple to figure out so far and they continue to be, but these latest choices of theirs have been eluding him more than he cares to admit. it grates on his nerves.

sipping from his drink, Odasaku peers down curiously at a young boy's tantrum. although he always appears to be on the verge of tears, these seem different, as if his parents weren't letting his friend stay over for the night. Odasaku doesn't make mention of it. through the months, he's become more and more used to Dazai's mechanics. he'll eventually blurt out all of his frustrations on his own without prompting.

as if on cue, Dazai shoots up straight on his seat. he ruffles up his hair, grumbling, "it's so frustrating!"

he doesn't elaborate, giving it a bit more thought in his own head before he properly dumps it all on Odasaku. it's not that he didn't expect [Name] to like Chuuya more than him—after all, Chuuya has always been softer than anyone in the Port Mafia—but to go as far as to request a mentor transfer? he doesn't care if they're drinking buddies or sparring partners or even best friends. he doesn't care if they favor Nakahara Chuuya over him, their actual mentor. he cares that they think cozying up to Chuuya is a better tactic than doing what he tells them to do.

"they don't make any sense!" Dazai gives the counter a weak punch as he turns on the stool to face Odasaku. "the only thing Chuuya has over my mentee is seniority. i mean, of course, i guess he's also on his way to become an executive, but if anyone holds more importance here, it's me. sucking up to someone like Chuuya won't get them anywhere. i don't get what they're trying to accomplish. they're so annoying!"

Odasaku processes every line of Dazai's rationalities and lets them simmer. he's heard plenty about Dazai's acquaintances. the cunning boss Mori-san, his gravity manipulator partner Chuuya, his wise senior Hirotsu-san, his elegant senior Kouyou-san, his life leeching mentee [Name]. it's not like he understands Dazai and it's not like Dazai doesn't know that. whether he's throwing a tantrum over jealousy or simply struggling to understand his mentee, Odasaku can't tell. he can put two and two together every once in a while, though.

staring into the melting ice in his glass, Odasaku considers the ordeal he's not a part of. he's a very regular man, so he knows Dazai never expects any counseling from him. but he side-eyes the small, whining boy anyway. "i don't think they're sucking up to him," is all he offers, blunt and direct. it's all he's gathered. he turns back to his drink and takes another sip.

Dazai falls silent instantly, face blank. he doesn't blink as Odasaku orders a refill. oh. he can't call this a slap to the face or a bucket of ice water dumped on him or a truck slamming into him. maybe it does make sense, maybe it's true, maybe [Name] really isn't sucking up to Chuuya. it's frustrating nonetheless. he hates losing and especially to Chuuya. maybe they genuinely like him and they genuinely look up to him. maybe the request for a mentor transfer wasn't about Dazai at all. maybe there are things out of his comprehension.

but Dazai doubts all these maybes. he doubts and tells [Name] to rot in hell. he doubts and then rots alone.

Odasaku watches him quietly play with the rim of his empty glass. he wonders if a kid so small isn't sick of this.

more corpses were produced in those eighty-eight days than ever in the history of the Yokohama underground. numerous organizations were involved in the whirlwind of bloodshed. nearly three months of innocent civilians and crime syndicates dropping like flies left and right. but [Name] doesn't care about Colonel biting the dust or an open spot at the executive table for Dazai. [Name] cares about the closed casket surrounded by flowers.

[Name] cares about the orphanage director lying dead inside a box.

they sit on their knees, staring up at the cropped picture in a frame, decorated with a black ribbon. [Name] bows their head, mumbling prayers. she shouldn't have died. it's somewhat comforting to know their efforts paid off; the director rebuilt her orphanage from the ground up with the funds they left at her doorstep. she died after living a fulfilled life, nurturing abandoned children to live a proper life.

(she wrapped [Name]'s arms up in bandages. she begged, "please, don't try to take your life away again," as she looked at them with tears in her eyes.)

[Name] stands up, uncovered skin sporting dozens of scars. only two exist within the orphanage grounds. they choose not to wait until the funeral ends. grief settles in their chest without tears and they kill their ego before anything can overflow. their anger sets off a siren that echoes and echoes and echoes and echoes.

Oda Sakunosuke is just a regular man. he doesn't kill and he doesn't steal. he takes care of children victim to bloodshed bigger than they can comprehend. he doesn't smoke around Dazai because he's underaged. he shares drinks with him at that place, a bar Dazai stayed alive to see. (he would have been a fool to die without ever seeing it.) he thinks being the mafia's errand boy is not that bad of a job. he's called Odasaku now, a friendly nickname Dazai came up with. he lives his life to clean his hands so he can one day earn the right to write a novel.

he's just a regular man who doesn't really understand the levels of malicious intelligence that surround him. he doesn't try to, either, because he knows it's only a waste of time. he's a regular man, therefore he can only watch burnt children hold back their screams of agony.

one of the latest tasks he's received involves a lot of rummaging around dangerous places. he doesn't mind it at all. he holds a stack of papers he has to deliver to isshin namiyo. he doesn't know who she is or what her influence in the mafia is or why she's looking into a research facility in Nagoya. all he knows is that orders are orders.

as he makes his way down the hallway, he perks up at the sight of another person leaving namiyo's office. it doesn't take a genius to realize this is a child. he nods towards them when they cross paths, looking them in the eye. oh, it's Dazai. they glance at him and reciprocate the gesture before walking past him. blinking surprised, he halts and calls, "Dazai…?" usually, Dazai is a bit more upbeat when he sees him. usually, Dazai doesn't have both eyes uncovered.

the kid also stops dead in their tracks. they throw a poisonous scowl over their shoulder. "no?"

Odasaku struggles to shake himself out of his own confusion. it's true, it's not Dazai. they look and feel like Dazai, but that's not his voice. he would know; he's heard the boy ramble for nights on end. the same tone that echoes in the abyss, the same eyes that swallow up the light, the same sense of death that clings to their clothes like perfume.

ah.

he turns to address [Name] properly. he sees their unfading scars glowing on their arms. "you're Dazai's mentee, aren't you?"

"yeah." he notices how their frown morphs into skepticism. they turn, too, staying a cautious distance away from him. they glare at him through narrowed eyes, shoulders tense. "who are you?"

"Oda Sakunosuke. a friend of your mentor." he bows politely. he's not afraid of hierarchy, but he's a regular man, and he knows this kid ranks higher than him in the Port Mafia.

"ah, Odasaku-san? i've heard about you. the assassin that doesn't kill."

"is that what i'm famous for?" he can't help but chuckle to himself. he finds it odd that [Name] remains alert despite knowing he won't kill them. (it's not death [Name] is afraid of.)

they mumble, "sure isn't your choice in acquaintances," so scornfully. turns out this is the mentee Dazai complained about so much in one single night. "how many people have you actually killed?"

Odasaku falls silent at the question. turns out this is the mentee. he meets their hollow eyes with a resolute frown. "more than you ever will in your entire life."

"i wouldn't be so sure."

"you're just a kid."

or he hopes they're just a kid, because that's what they should be. there's painful beauty in a blurted lie, so bittersweet, so out of reach. a kid so scared, a kid who doesn't smile at anything, a kid who laughs alongside death. maybe they belong here, underneath the corpses of the Port Mafia. Odasaku thinks they really are just a kid, the same way Dazai is just a boy.

finally, their stance relaxes slightly. "was that a wish or a prediction?"

it's a wish. "my ability only allows a few seconds into the future." it's ignorance. he flickers his eyes down to their uncovered arms. he doesn't know if he prefers Dazai's bandages or [Name]'s scars. one is too blunt and the other is too cloying. "do you also want to die like him?"

"i do, i'm just not like him."

"is your reason any different than his?"

now it's their turn to fall silent. Odasaku can hear their anger rumbling, slowly consuming the space they refuse to take up. he's never seen a child glower so cynically. "you might be Dazai-san's friend, but truth stands, i'm higher than you on the food chain here. i don't have to answer."

"i guess every student of Dazai's is as guarded and lonely as him." immediately, Odasaku realizes he shouldn't have said that.

"if you know, then—no, i don't care. every friend of Dazai-san's must be insane."

"huh?" he hums, confused. he isn't sure he heard them right. "i'm insane?"

[Name] doesn't backtrack, but they do look apologetic for a brief moment. their frown smooths out and they look like a regular child. "i'm not trying to insult you, sorry. i just don't understand the words Dazai-san and friend in the same sentence." a regular, curious child, asking for help with their math homework because why are letters and numbers mixed up?

immediately, Odasaku realizes Dazai is the common factor in all these equations. "is this what he meant by a mentee that doesn't make any sense? the one that favors someone else over their mentor?"

their attitude changes. they don't seem irritated anymore. "oh," they laugh, "i've been requestin' a mentor transfer from Mori-san for months now." it's light-hearted. they keep pestering for something that certainly won't ever happen, making sure to keep their hopes low. they're Dazai's mentee, after all, whether they hate it or not, and they're just as childish. but then their eyes darken again. "when i see someone willingly stay close to what i'm trying so hard to get away from, i can only think they're insane."

Oda Sakunosuke is just a regular man. he can't ever comprehend the disturbing intelligence swimming in Dazai's brain. he can't ever comprehend the obstreperous anger following [Name] everywhere they go. for a moment, he thought, relieved, that it was a good thing Dazai had [Name] as a mentee and vice-versa. he can tell now that he was very wrong. [Name] is certainly so much like Dazai; the despair in their eyes, the small frame of an abandoned child, the soothing and airy voice that only sinks and sinks deeper into an endless abyss. they're so much like Dazai, but it's clear they don't understand Dazai and Dazai doesn't understand them. it's also clear that they both know that.

it's clear that they're the exact same thing and yet they don't see eye to eye. it's also clear that they both know that.

note — so firstly i hope yall realize there wont be any romance here. i thought that was obvious but just a psa in case youd rather spend your time reading a romance fic than whatever the fuck this is. also maybe heed the tags when you go fic hunting anyway. odasaku my beloved. hes a fantastic character to pair next to dazai tbh. hes just a guy, but hes got more than a good head on his shoulders. hes the perfect piece to fill in dazais lack of moral compass. and its funny, cause he never does it. although he considers it and he sees how much dazai wants to cry and he doesnt quite agree with most of dazais concepts, he never steps into dazais world and tries to properly guide him like a proper moral compass. the only moment he does is when its already far too late and hes two seconds away from dying. for a character than only exists within a few chapters of a light novel, asagiri did the most with him. (also beast fucking destroyed me) on another note, i wanna make it clear that i fucking love soukoku. not as a ship cause i dont like shoving romance where its not needed, but just the partnership dazai and chuuya have. i think its fascinating, especially considering dazai is a superhuman and chuuya might not even be human, but their humanities are flipped. ill be working with that more and more, but i wanna make sure yall know i dont ship soukoku so that wont be happening. i do, however, think their relationship is incredible and thats sth i will, in fact, pick apart more and more drink water have day gn

#theory of the two demons #bungou stray dogs #bsd #dazai osamu #dazai osamu x reader #dazai x reader #bsd x reader #bungou stray dogs x reader #mori ougai #oda sakunosuke #odasaku

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