#idk man longer-haired dazai thoughts

[pepper-steam-milkshake]

pov: you’re in hiding for four years so you can get a new job

(click for better quality; close-ups under the read-more)

[solunstell]

List of bsd headcanons

Dazai:

Has bpd. A lot of his traits remind me of my friends with it

He some kind of trans. Nonbinary. Transfem. Transmasc. Idk he's megender lmao

He's described as appearing very youthful in the first two light novels. I imagine that once the events of the main timeline start picking up though, with all the time stopping or slowing abilities that *dont affect him*, he actually ages faster than the other characters. I draw current dazai with small wrinkles, which also hints at stress and stuff

Also, I imagine current dazai getting tanner as he works in the light, as well as getting more prominent freckles.

Round/doe eyes because that is part of his appearance in my opinion. Seeming unsuspecting and innocent, especially during his mafia days

Bad eyesight in his right eye from being under the bandages for so long. Saw this headcanon and loved it

Similarly, beastzai has bad vision in general

I always call No Longer Human an anti-ability in my head, fun fact

He loves to touch other people. Not a fan of being touched by others unless asked

I draw him with red eyes in color, and usually black eyes in ink (inconsistent artstyle my beloved)

Aroace spectrum

heavy sleeper. Very

Chuuya

FRECKLES and tan from sheep days

He likes to be close to other people more than actually touching. Presence over contact

That shade of eyes that changes colors in the light (but I use a grey base lol)

Also some sort of trans, but in a different way than dazai

Brownish red hair. Not blazing, not just brown

That man is AUTISTIC

One time instinctively kicked a friend with his ability active, expecting them to dodge cuz he's used to dazai easily dodging. They did, but they were SO CLOSE to getting hit. Imagine a confused face like wtf why you try to kick me

Light sleeper, but every now and then sleeps like he just learned how to close his eyes

A lot of his jokes go over people's heads because they expect him to be serious and his voice just doesn't change between serious and not serious

Ranpo

Autism plus adhd ftw

Aroace spectrum

Poe

He/they vibes

Anxiety

Gay af

I can 100% see him being into knitting. Imagine the guide plus ranpo all in matching sweaters

Loves baking. Sooooo bad at it

Lucy

Bi (with a lean towards girlies) she/it

VERY good at baking

But she won't share :(

Atsushi

Anxiety, so much anxiety

Aroace spectrum vibes

Very easily idolizes people and then gets surprised when they actually like being around him

Akutagawa

Aroace spectrum

Autism cuz he is so mecore sometimes

Very trans vibes from me

(I like to imagine him having tourettes cuz I have tourettes and I am Not projecting)

Atsushi (special kitty hearing) and jouno being the only ones who can hear some of his tics. He will be horrified that anyone notices them

Wait no actually I'm gonna incorporate that into my belief system. That's canon now

Mori

Genuinely cares about a lot of his workers, but not all of them

He gives great bonuses for birthdays

He absolutely loves vtubers if bsd were in a modern setting. Rip mori. He'd have also loved vocaloid lmao

Ozaki

Masc energy. Fem energy. Ooh I can see ozaki with any pronouns and identity

Kinda person to accidently either overpack or underpack. Always has painkillers, never has a pen

Ridiculous memory. Incredible gift giver. Would get someone something months or years after overhearing them say they wanted something once

"Whyd you get me a hairdryer?"

"You said you needed one. I saw it and thought of you."

"...that was months ago. I got a hairdryer already."

"..." *takes hairdryer back* "sorry wrong person. I don't have my contacts in my bad"

She has perfect vision

Kunikida

Trans vibes. In any and every direction

Adhd af

Will always conveniently have room in his schedule when Aya wants to go do something and needs someone to go with her. No, he's TOTALLY not frantically writing and erasing things, get your glasses updated

You can usually count on him to continue the bit cuz he won't realize there is a bit occurring

[chaiifluuf]

Pop your pérignon — d. osamu

synopsis. so what if he doesn’t care about his own birthday? you still wanted to make him feel special

content. gn!reader, fluff, idk the ending seems rushed sorry :(

notes. the silly doodle is drawn by me <3 and happy happy birthday to our sweet, adorable, charming dazai !!! mwah mwah ! ⸜(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡

you have been mentally counting the days to his birthday.

dazai has told you about his birthday once and you’ve told yourself to not forget it since. he doesn’t really care for it, thinking that there’s little to no point celebrating his age growing by one, a mere reminder that he’s managed to live through yet another year. or so he told you and it makes you a little sad when you think about it. most people you have met get excited or at least look forward to their birthdays so seeing him be so indifferent about his own is unusual for you.

that doesn’t mean you were going to keep it that way. while you had nothing grand planned, you still wanted to surprise him and that in itself turned out to be a much more difficult task than you expected. dazai knows you really well and because of that you can’t afford to make even a single slip up. 

now the hardest part was actually figuring out what to gift him. you didn’t want to get him just something random and expensive, you wanted it to have a meaning for him. you found the amount of time you spent thinking about it embarrassing because who doesn’t know what to give to their own boyfriend? but in the end you did get an idea. a simple but sweet idea. whenever dazai went on a longer mission or had to be somewhere, you used the chance to work on it and put it together. and of course afterwards making sure it was hidden well, under the bed behind many boxes to be exact.

getting a cake was trickier. at first you thought about making it yourself but then you’d have to make it a day before his birthday with no way of knowing if he was going to be away somewhere or not. so if he were to stay with you then making a cake without him noticing is near impossible. with that in mind you chose to buy one and that wasn’t easy either. to somehow get a cake in the fridge a day before without him suspecting anything? yeah you couldn’t have done it alone. that’s when you decided to ask tanizaki for help.

you told him exactly which cake to get and when the time was right, you sent tanizaki a message, a sign that he could enter since you had intentionally left the front door unlocked for him. you were laying bed with dazai when he came in and you didn’t even hear him open or close the fridge. his ability was the plan b in case if dazai happened to suddenly go there. in the end everything went smoothly and you couldn’t feel more relieved. you made a mental note to yourself to pay him back for the cake later.

and before you know it, the day is here. you lazily rubbed your eyes as the rising sunlight woke you up. you slightly shift your body, turning your head a little to see the familiar chocolate brown hair and his face nuzzled against your back. his peaceful state always managed to bring a subtle smile to your lips. but that soon falls as you remember something and god you should have realised this earlier.

how are you going to get out of bed?

the ideal scenario would be that you slowly manage to escape his grasp, placing a pillow in your place and then you would have the chance to get everything ready and surprise him before he wakes up. except it’s dazai that we’re talking about. asleep or not, this man refuses to let go of you easily and only whines about how cold it is without your warmth. and most of the time it works because you can’t deny how comfortable it is to relax in his embrace and forget about the world around you for a moment.

but right now you actually wanted no, needed to get up. you sigh slightly as you think what to do. you know he is going to wake up, dazai has never been a heavy sleeper so moving out of bed would definitely alert him. which leaves you one last option that has to work. you carefully start to shift your body, trying to move his arm, which is wrapped around your waist, out of the way. you were close to sitting up before you could feel dazai’s hold tighten around you, making your movements pause.

“where are you going..?” he mumbles against your skin, the sleep in his voice evident. i take a small breath and then respond. “to the bathroom, i’ll be right back.” your voice is quiet as you let one of your hands brush through his hair. you silently prayed for him to let you since you really have no idea what else you’re going to do otherwise.

you have to hold in an exhale of relief when his hold loosens again, giving you the chance to sit up. a sleepy ‘okay’ is all he says in return and you’re almost surprised at how effortlessly you managed to leave. it could be because he’s still half asleep. all that matters now is the cake and the present. as quietly as possible, you take out your wrapped gift and the cake from the fridge. a rather small cake because you know that he doesn’t have a really big sweet tooth. you wanted to put candles on it too but now wonder how many. definitely not the age he is turning because they wouldn’t all fit. without thinking too hard you just put three as it looked nice like that.

you took out a lighter and within a few moments, all the candles were lit. all that is left now is to go and wish him a happy birthday the way he deserves. you carefully take the cake and the present, approaching the bedroom door as small nervousness starts to grow. what if he doesn’t like it? the last thing you want to do is to make his own day worse for him. thankfully you don’t get to dwell on your thoughts too long because you don’t want the candle wax dripping down on the cake.

when you enter the room, dazai is laying on his back, lazily rubbing his eyes before he turns to look at you. the immediate confused look in his eyes made you smile.

“happy birthday to you, happy birthday to you, happy birthday dear osamu, happy birthday to you!” you sing softly while slowly sitting down on the bed, placing the cake beside him. you noticed the way he is blinking and dumbfounded as if he couldn’t believe this was real at first. you expected that kind of reaction.

“what?” he speaks up after you sing, slowly sitting up. seeing dazai so off guard is rare, even to you. “come on, blow out the candles!” you tell him with a chuckle. with some hesitation, he does as you say and your face beamed. you also decide to give him the present.

“i know you don’t really care about your birthday but i couldn’t let today just pass by either.” dazai seems like he’s speechless for a moment before focusing on you again.

“you seriously didn’t need to do this.” his voice is soft yet you could sense a bit of disbelief in it as he sees the wrapped gift for him as well. “but i wanted to and there’s nothing you can do to stop me,” you say back with certainty, leaving no room for argument.

you then encouraged him to open the gift, your anticipation for his reaction growing. as he removes the wrapping, a small book is revealed and as soon as he opens it, a couple of pages filled with pictures of him and you can be seen. basically a photo album. while dazai flips through the pages you can’t help but notice his lack of reaction, only a small smile coating his lips.

does he not like it that much? you had hoped that he would at least point out a few photos or something but he’s completely quiet, which makes you even more anxious.

“…is it okay? i’m going to be honest, for the longest time i wondered what to give you because i wanted it to be something special or meaningful to you. then i got this idea and thought it’s perfect, a photo album containing the memories of us. but if you don’t like it then i can—“ your unsure rambling is cut off by dazai as he presses a tender kiss on your lips. and suddenly everything seems okay again.

“don’t like it? my love, you have no idea how grateful i am for this,” he tells you, holding your face so that you’d see the sincerity in his gaze, “…i don’t think anyone has ever properly celebrated my birthday, including myself so you just going out of your way to do this for me? i don’t deserve it.” his words push you to give him a light kiss, relishing in the soft surprised sound he lets out.

“yes you do, osamu. i’ll make sure that today will be all about you.” you say to him with a sweet smile, warmth and fondness pooling in your eyes. you swear that for a brief moment you could hear dazai’s breath falter. it’s clear as day that he is not used to this but you are determined to change that.

he looks like he’s about to argue back before eventually sighing in defeat, cuddling closer to you as he buries his face into the crook of your neck and you almost miss his quiet words spoken against your skin. 

“god i love you so much…”

[i-just-like-goats]

Dazai x reader where y/n is cheated on but she moves on with another man (chuuya aku idk)

ooh yes you can! When it comes to stuff like this, Chuuya is my go to character, I love them both so much . Hope you enjoy!

Dazai x Female Reader x Chuuya

Summary: in the ask

Warnings: cheating

WC: 1.5k

Main Masterlist Part 2

You wouldn't consider yourself blind or foolish, but Dazai had that exact effect on you. With all your heart, you truly loved him, so you had deluded yourself into thinking that everything was going well between the two of you.

Every cancelled date, you excused it, figuring that everything was just busy at the agency. You wanted to believe that his lack of affection was due to him being tired from all the work at the agency.

Even when you saw him sitting at a bar with some other girl, you just ignored it, hoping that it was a misunderstanding and that they just so happened to sit next to each other.

But strangers don't look at each other like that.

You never confronted him about it, wanting to trust him. But even you could see when it was too much.

All of his colleagues at the agency always wore pitying faces whenever you came around to wait for Dazai only for him to walk off coldly as you followed behind him.

Everyone knew about what was going on, it wasn't hard to figure out. Yet they never dared to confront Dazai, turning instead to you to break up with him.

"Yosano, for the hundredth time, I trust Dazai,"

"But Y/N, I'm sure even you see that there's a huge difference in his behaviour. He doesn't even go on dates with you. I know you love him, but you can’t be blinded by your love for him and-"

She stopped abruptly at the sight of tears forming in your eyes. You shook your head, refusing to cry.

There in front of you was Dazai with his lips on the same girl you saw at the bar. Once they noticed you, you smiled. Dazai's expression didn't change, didn't show any remorse or regret, if anything he looked annoyed by your presence. The same look he'd been giving you these past few weeks.

At least his new girl had the decency to look ashamed. She refused to meet your eyes and hid behind Dazai to stare stubbornly at the ground.

Yosano placed a hand on your shoulder to comfort you but to also stop you from doing anything brash.

"I knew this whole time, you know. I wasn't blind, but my love for you clouded my judgement. I know you've been cheating on me, but I didn't say anything, because I didn't want to let go of you. Now that I know for sure you no longer care, this is where I'm letting go. You let go long ago, it's my turn,"

You turned swiftly in the opposite direction and allowed the tears you struggled to hold back to fall freely. 

The girl shuddered at your calm voice. You didn't show sadness or anger, just resignation, and that frightened her.

"You needn't follow me anymore Yosano. You have no obligation to do this, I'm no longer your colleague's girlfriend,"

"But-"

"I'm serious Yosano, please just leave me alone for now, I just need time to reflect,"

She nodded with a sad expression, you smiled in return and walked in the direction of the harbour. There, you sat on the dock allowing yourself to sob out all of your sadness and frustrations. The noise of the waves crashing on the dock drowned out your loud sobs.

Where did you go wrong? Did you do something wrong? Were you not enough for him? 

Thoughts swirled around in your head like a gale. Your sobbing increased until you struggled for breath. You were deluding yourself into thinking your relationship was ok and after all that, the only thing you had left was an endless pit of despair.

Someone sat next to you. You lifted your head slowly from your knees after several minutes to give yourself time to calm down.

The stranger turned his own head to look at you, his own body at a 90⁰ angle to yours. A hat sat atop his orange hair and his clothes appeared to be incredibly expensive.

What was such a seemingly rich man doing by this dock sitting next to you?

"What brings you to this place?" You asked hoarsely.

"Just needed a break from the world. What about you? You come here often?"

"Can't say I do. It's my first time here. Like you, just needed a break,"

"It's my first time too. Guess the world was just very taxing on you then,"

You nodded absentmindedly. 

"The name's Chuuya,"

"Y/N,"

"Well Y/N, it's nice to meet you, though it could've been under better circumstances,"

"Nice to meet you too,"

"I'm hungry, wanna accompany me?"

"I don't want to take up any more of your time,"

"I chose to come here, you're not wasting my time. Besides, you seem to need something to cheer you up, food always does the trick for me,"

He didn't wait for your reply and opted to hold your hand and guide you to a seemingly expensive restaurant. You stopped slightly.

"I'll pay," He said as he continued to lead you inside.

You blushed lightly. When was the last time that you were treated like this? He seemed to be doing it out of pity and kindness, but you couldn't deny the warm feeling filling your chest.

You found yourself spilling everything about your relationship over the extravagant three course meal. His gentle demeanour eased you to comfortably open up to him.

"And I guess I was crying so hard on the dock back there because, I don't know, maybe I was a bad girlfriend. Maybe I wasn't enough,"

Chuuya made no comment and instead bore into your eyes with such intensity that you diverted your eyes to look at your plate 

"From what I've just heard, you weren't in the wrong. This ex of yours is the one to blame. He cheated, that was his decision. You can't do any more than give your all and hope the other person reciprocates. If they don't, then the relationship should probably end. But that's my take on it. Just don't be too harsh on yourself, got it?"

Chuuya's words flattered you, but did little to ease the ache in your heart. It would take more than a nice evening before you stopped doubting yourself. You sighed.

"Easier said than done right?"

"Yeah,"

"Don't worry, as long as you have a supportive group around you, you'll get through this. It'll hurt at first, but I'm always here for you if you feel that you can't talk to anyone,"

"Thank you Chuuya. You're too kind. And if you don't mind, I'll be coming to you a lot. My ex and I have the same friends in Yokohoma,"

"I see. Well, feel free to contact me. Here's my number,"

That encounter with Chuuya was the first of many meet-ups with him. Some meetings were like your first, others were just enjoying each others' presence in silence. Sometimes he would be the one ranting to you about an old partner he had.

Over several months, you healed, Chuuya helped you so much with his words of comfort. Recently, your meetings with Chuuya were no longer you seeking a shoulder to cry on and were instead because you enjoyed spending time with him.

How could you not fall for his charm?

You began to fear that he would stop agreeing to see you once you confessed to him that you had completely moved on from Dazai. You couldn't lose him as well.

"What's got your head spinning? You're frowning,"

"It's nothing,"

"Doesn't seem like nothing. You've been like this the whole week. Come on, you can talk to me,"

"I know I can, but my thoughts are about you,"

"What?"

Chuuya's cheeks instantly turned red at the thought of you having him on your mind.

"Sorry, that came out wrong but-"

"But it's all the more reason to tell me. Am I doing something to offend you?"

"No! You could never,"

"That's a relief then. So, care to tell me?"

You inhaled.

"I don't. I can't lose you,"

"What do you mean? I'm not sick,"

"I'm just scared that I'll lose you when I tell you that I've completely healed. We only became close because you wanted to help me through my breakup, your job's done, so now there's no reason for you to see me,"

"Oh darling," Chuuya engulfed you in his arms, "You're never getting rid of me. Especially now after we've become so close. All those dates would be a waste of time, don't you think?"

"Dates?"

Chuuya stiffened. He didn't mean to say that. To be honest, he started to think of your meet-ups as dates as a way to deal with his yearning for your affection.

"Take me on a proper date then,"

His expression brightened considerably. You laughed at his rapid change of emotions.

"You'd let me? You're not weirded out by what I just said?"

"Of course I'd let you. I'd be lying if I said I didn't also secretly wish our meet-ups were dates instead,"

He smiled and only tightened his hold on you.

"I'll make you so much happier than your ex. I'll love you so much more than you loved your ex. I'll do it all for you,"

"Thank you Chuuya. For everything,"

[whorefordazai]

Could you make one headcanon for each character? (Chuuya, Kunikida, Atsuhi, Dazai and Poe)

I’ve been reading all day about poe so I had to include him lmao

- 🍋

random bsd character headcannons

ft. chuuya | kunikida | atsushi | dazai | poe

genre: crack

Idk if you wanted dating hcs or just plain character hcs so I’ll go with the flow 😎

chuuya

I feel like he’s the type of person to do spring cleaning in the middle of winter. pls 😭 he’ll just one day wake up from bed and decide “today I’m cleaning this fucking house.” so he’ll stick a piece of toast in his mouth, take a huge drink of vodka, tie an apron around his waist, and grab a vacuum. only an hour would go by and he’ll yell out “THIS WAS A HORRIBLE FUCKING IDEA. WHY THE FUCK DID I DECIDE TO DO THIS⁉️” because now his back hurts and bones are sore from using his ability to move furniture 😭

kunikida

I feel like he’s scared that once he finds his ideal woman, she’ll fall out of love for him because he’s so strict. but he’s only strict because he wants everyone to be safe. he feels as though his ideals are a blessing and a curse (I’M SORRY THAT WAS KINDA ANGST WJWJ)

more fluffy one 😔—once he fell asleep from exhaustion on the agency’s couch so dazai decided to prank him by braiding his hair. once he woke up, he noticed the braid but was too tired to take it out. and plus, he actually thought he looked pretty with his hair in a braid so HAHAH DAZAI YOUR PLAN BACKFIRED HEHEH

atsushi

when it was time to get his drivers license, dazai offered to help him and he accepted the help (little did he know, dazai is a terrible driver) and drives like a mad man on cocaine. so when they’re practicing out on the street, atsushi nearly faints when dazai takes the wheel. meanwhile, Dazai is just yelling out and hysterically laughing “WDYM ATSUSHI⁉️I KNOW EXACTLY HOW TO DRIVE 🤪‼️”—“WAIT DAZAI-SAN YOU’RE GONNA HIT THE OLD LADY ANSJWJ”

*proceeds to hit the old lady and fatally injure her*

“DAZAI-SAN WHAT THE FUCKKDSK😃”

yosano helped heal the old lady, smacked dazai, and from that point on dazai is no longer allowed to be anywhere near a car.

dazai

he once tried to curl his hair with a curling iron (that he stole from chuuya) but burned off a piece of his hair so he just stood there in front of the mirror like :0 “oopsie daisy.” he just gave up, shrugged his shoulders, and went about his merry day without acknowledging a piece of his hair gone 😭 no one noticed except Atsushi, and he thought dazai did it on purpose to look cool so he asked “ooh dazai-san, is that a new trend? I wanna do it to my hair too 😊!!” dazai just looked back at him like “🙂⁉️” but since Atsushi really wanted it, he helped burn off a piece of atsushi’s hair 🙂!

kunikida smacked them both.

poe

he stays up at night reading books and wishing he could live in those fictional worlds because he feels lonely in reality (except when he’s with ranpo, his brain seems to flip a switch and he thinks to himself “maybe this world is kinda worth living in if I can make ranpo-kun smile 🙂”

he writes fan fiction. you can’t take it back. he had this phase when he was a teenager, where he wrote fanfics and had this whole fanbase on tumblr and ao3. one day, ranpo found out about his secret dark past and confronted poe about it. It’s safe to say, poe physically fainted when ranpo pulled up his profile like “this you? 😋”

tag list: @uwu-monster101 @14th-century-homosexual-spirit @dai-tsukki-desu @i4gumi @cross-crye @starglow-xx @ranposlover @bsdwhore @arimakii @malewifegirlboss @shadyteacup @smadhuman @knjksj0301 @neighborhoodfriendlysimp @rirk-ke @mushroomplantasia @luftdum @pickleisrandom @3-am-depression @its-chuuya-bitch @elliesbakeryshop @ultimately-hopeism @ijustwantfreenetflix @fashionablyfailing12 @dazailiones @the-wholesome-ranpo

[shadyteacup]

This is a day late, but here's a birthday fic I wrote for my favorite man, Dazai♡

Happy Birthday, Love♡

"Good morning!"

A cheery voice echoed in Dazai's ear. He groaned at the noise. It was only 5 in the morning.

"Who?", he managed to grumble into the phone, shifting on his bed to stretch his legs.

"It's me, Dummy. Wake up and get ready. I'm picking you up in 5."

His eyes shot open. Why the fuck were you picking him up at 5.05 am on a fucking Saturday?

"Y/N, it's literally dark out there, "

"Shut up. Be ready!"

With that, you hung up.

Dazai groaned into his pillow, fisting the sheets and preparing himself to get out of bed.

He rolled off the edge, quite literally, and landed on his bum, hissing at the cold that kissed his ass.

He stumbled to get ready, pulling on his favourite hoodie and throwing on some jeans.

In exactly 5 minutes, his doorbell rang.

He huffed, pulling it open, and was about to whine when he took in the sight of you.

There you stood, a bright smile on your face and a bouquet in your arms.

On the flowers a hideously large note read, "Happy Birthday, Osa!"

He blinked, remembering that today was, infact, 19th June. The day he was born.

"Happy birthday, baby!"

You extended your arms, thrusting the flowers in his face. He smiled at you, accepting the flowers and pulling you in.

"Whoa-"

You were cut short by a pair of lips slamming down onto your own.

Dazai had you pinned to his door as he passionately kissed you, pouring all his love and thanks into it. He trailed his hand along your sides, eliciting an excited shiver down your spine. His tongue claimed your mouth as it's own, making you whimper at the intensity of the kiss.

You pushed his shoulders, trying to create some distance between your heaving chests.

"Not... not now!"

You grinned up at your whiny boyfriend.

"But why can't we just tear our clothes off and-"

"No! I'm not celebrating your special day like this."

He pouted, his angelic features almost making you give in. Almost.

"I have something planned for you, love. "

He smirked, leaning forward to kiss along your neck.

"Do you... really... want... to miss out... on this?"

He asked you between kisses. You gulped, pushing him away.

"No! Not now! Maybe later."

He grinned coyly at your flustered state, before yelping at the sudden pull of you grabbing his arm.

You pulled him out of the house, slamming the door behind you, and sprinting down the hall. He stumbled to keep up to you, your entwined fingers pulling him forward.

You reached down stairs to your motorcycle, putting your helmet on and tossing one towards your favorite brunet.

"Come on!"

You ushered him to sit behind you, and once he was seated, you revved you bike to life. You roared through the empty streets of Yokohama. Dazai felt excited, the rush of the wind against his face igniting a flame of exhilaration through his bones.

He hugged your waist, leaning into your warmth as the cool wind nipped at his skin, eliciting shivers.

He watched as the sun rose, it's reddish rays expanding over the land, like how the ocean usurps the sandy beach with every wave. He was left awestruck at how beautiful the city looked. There was so much beauty in this world. He was glad to be able to witness it. Especially glad that he was with you. You were another one of nature's beauties. He adored you so much. He maybe even loved you. But he wouldn't tell you that, for he wasn't sure if the feelings were reciprocated. Nonetheless, being able to spend time with you was a blessing from the heavens. He was going to cherish each every millisecond he got with you.

You maneuvered trough the twist and turns, and took your beloved to a hilltop. The view was splendid from up here. You parked, asking Dazai to get off as you turned the engine off.

"Beautiful..."

You heard him whisper as he looked over the city.

You smiled at his genuine adoration, pulling out a blanket from your bag.

"I know you like nature. I also know that you like food."

He turned towards your voice to see you sitting on a cute blanket that was laid out on the grass. Baskets of food and drinks surrounded you.

"I thought that a picnic is a perfect blend of the two!"

He grinned at your thoughtfulness and joined you.

You both spent quite a while just observing the city. How the darkness was slowly replaced by light. How the once lonely streets were filled with the buzz of humanity. Just Dazai's heart. It was so lonely and dark, then you filled it with light.

As you laid your head on his shoulder, you couldn't help but feel... complete. His warmth, his smell, his touch.. it was all way too familiar to you. You both hadn't even been dating that long, but just the thought of him made you smile. You longed to see him everyday. Hearing his voice made you feel lighthearted. His smile lit up your day. Everything about the man sitting next you made you happy. He was your serotonin boost.

You gulped at the intensity of your feelings. You cared for him, a little too much. It scared you. But you knew he felt the same way.

Everytime he leaned into your touch, subconsciously grasping onto your warmth, you realized that he loved you. He never said it to you, but you could see it in his eyes. You could see it in his tiny actions. The way he would smile the brightest smile ever, when he saw you after a long time, the way his eyes lit up when you laughed on one of his stupid jokes, the way he hugged you a little longer than he used to at the beginning. It all just adds up.

You tilt your head to stare at your love, only to find brown eyes peering down at you.

You blushed at being caught, hiding your face into his neck.

Cute chuckles followed by multiple head-kisses made you look back up at the gorgeous man.

"What are you thinking about?"

He asked, brushing your hair out of your eyes.

"You.", you replied with a smile.

He froze at your reply, a pink hue dusting his cheeks.

"Are you blushing?"

You asked incredulously.

He shook his head a little too quickly to seem convincing, turning away. You grasped his chin, forcing him to look you in the eyes.

Your intense gaze was full of adoration and it made Dazai's face heat up. You were looking at him with such gentleness. He didn't deserve you.

"I love you, Osamu."

He froze. It was a mere whisper, but it was enough to toss his world upside down.

You had finally opened up to him about your true feelings. You felt relieved to finally spill the beans. Your relief didn't last long, though, as your beloved was yet to reply.

You were beginning to worry.

Had you read into it all wrong? Maybe his affinity to your touch was merely a habit. Maybe he wasn't in love with you. Your mind was screaming at you for possibly ruining his special day. You had gone ahead and made it awkward.

"Hey, forget about it. I was not thinking straight, and-"

"I love you, too."

Now you froze. Y/N.exe has stopped working.

"What?"

You sat there, mouth agape. You had expected this, hadn't you? Until a few minutes ago, you had convinced yourself that he loved you back. Yes, you were confused for a second, but now he had told you that he loved you. So, why were you shocked? Why did it feel so good to hear those words from him?

He smiled at your frozen face, leaning forward to kiss you. You melted into his arms, telling him just how much he meant to you through the kiss. You loved how you didn't have to voice out your feelings with him. He simply understood you.

Your fingers threaded through his messy locks, pulling him closer to deepen the kiss. He grabbed your waist, lifting you up. You jumped at the opportunity and sat yourself on his lap. His hands took the liberty to express your back, creeping under your shirt to caress your soft skin. His skilled fingers teased their way higher and higher. You pushed him on his back, hovering over him, desperate to take control. He didn't let you break the kiss, pulling you down along with him.

A few moments later, it became hard to breathe, but his taste was intoxicating.

He pulled back first, grinning boyishly at you. Placing his forehead on yours, he licked his lips.

"Can't wait to claim you, tonight."

The meaning behind his words finally hit you, and you smacked his arm.

"Why would you say that?!"

"I'll make you scream your love for me, babe."

He winked.

You heated up, hiding your face in your arms. His chuckles made you want to fling a rock at his dumb head.

He was such a baby. But he was your baby. And as long as he was by your side, you would be content.

Hehe, idk if this was good enough, coz I wrote after a long time... but I love he so much uwu

Tagging!

@anarchy-black-cat @707xn @evalynanne @b-i-t-t-i-e-s @kuraxmasha @syynnaaah  @roserosie05 @mikasa-stan-account @alittlesimp @greenshirtimagines @paradise-creator @kiyokoxd @ranposlover @the-foreigner @sakikoshi@h3xa413a @sukunas-cult-leader @ilOvedaydreaming @del1111 @craftypeachmoneyhound @notquitehereorthere @mikasa-stan-account @kenmasbbygrl @alphaofdarkness @duhsies @cees-sims @the-foreigner @uglapuglamuglafugla @sugarandsoft @jadegreenimmortality @flanelsantito @shiny84244 @one-hell-of-otaku-is-here @missrown @requiem626k @sukunas-cult-leader @ilovedaydreaming @roserosie05 @mikasa-stan

[babypandawrites]

Enigma

Pairing: Dazai X GN Reader Warnings: Mori. Icky Implications Word Count: 783 Summary: Dazai never thought he would find beauty in scars and scowls, yet here he was, convinced you were the most beautiful person he'd ever seen.

Note: Honestly idk what this is, I wrote it in the midst of a sleep deprived brainrot.

-Navigation-

To Osamu Dazai, you were an enigma.

It wasn't long after he joined the Port Mafia that he met you- Well actually it was quite a while before he formally met you, but your first encounter was quite quick after his arrival.

Except it wasn't much of an encounter at all, but there's no need to get hung up on the details.

It was on a call to Mori's office that he first saw you. Your hair was choppy and bags were heavy under your eyes. A long scar extended from the corner of your mouth all the way up to your ear, like someone had tried to carve your face into a grotesque smile but only got the job half done. Acne scars were littered across your face, companied by reddish brown freckles. There was a bust in your lip, dried blood and bruising hinting it was recent. With your eyes narrowed and lips set into a straight line, it was hard to tell if you were pissed off or just had a resting bitch face.

Society would no doubt scrutinize you for your appearance, it was far from the standard set for beauty- But all Dazai could think as you walked past him with your head down and your shoulder raised, was how absolutely gorgeous you were. He never thought he'd find beauty in scars and scowls, but here he was, completely sure you were the most beautiful person he'd ever seen.

He inquired to the man who escorted him who you were, but to his dismay the answer he got was 'Mori's favorite tool'.

Quite the title.

One that left a bitter taste in his mouth.

Given the nature of your abilities, and the purposes of your jobs, he never got to work with you. A disappointment for sure, but he didn't dare complain when he was told he'd be a liability to you. He didn't even know you but god he didn't want to be the cause for your pain.

Or worse yet, your death.

Because of this, he never got the chance to even speak with you, an even bigger disappointment. He heard bits and pieces about you from other members who you'd worked with, though he soon found you were quite the mystery to everyone.

You didn't interact with many outside of your missions, rather the only person you did speak with if not on a job was Mori, often times you could be found in his office.

Again, something that left a bitter taste in his mouth.

You were his age, apparently, but there was something about you that led him to believe you'd been there for far longer than he. Maybe it was the way that- despite how brightly colored they were -your eyes were always dull.

Empty.

Somehow colored brighter than the sky on a sunny day, but devoid of color at the same time.

Gorgeous.

No one really knew what your ability was, or how it worked, but everyone knew it was valuable.

Why?

Because Mori deemed it valuable.

Like he'd been told, you were the mans favorite tool- ugh -and there was a reason for that. Your mysterious ability being that reason.

Dazai only caught glimpses of you here and there, when you were exiting Mori's office while he was entering it. Sometimes you had new injuries, others you had scars that always managed to disappear the next time he saw you.

But that scar and busted lip you had when he first saw you always remained. Them and the bags under your eyes were the only constants about you.

As time went by, he noticed you had a penchant for cutting and coloring your hair- The jobs seemed self done, with choppy ends and uneven tones, though maybe you just liked it that way. And he never saw you in the same piece of clothing twice. It was always something different, always something new.

How you managed to own so many pieces of clothing and pairs of shoes he would never understand.

Seriously? How did you even manage to do that?

Your closet must be some kind of endless void with no max on it's credit card.

Maybe it had to do with whatever relationship you had with Mori, he'd thought. But that was quickly dismissed from his head.

Not something he wanted to think about.

Not seeing you in passing on his way to Mori's office, Dazai found himself disappointed. Something he wad quickly relieved of seeing you seated in one of two chairs sat opposite of the man's desk.

"Dazai, please take a seat. I have someone I'd like to introduce you too.."

It was about time, he thought.

[xo-cuteplosion-xo]

The Ending of The Everlasting Sun.

Soukoku angst: will have 2 parts, one is Chuuya pov another is Dazai pov (Dazai is part 1 aka this piece. I'll start chuuya's tomorrow)

I’ll do a version for Dazai after (not pov but version so Chuuya can have the dose of Dazai’s pain T_T).

Warnings: Death, gore, violence, angst with just more angst. (idk if i consider dazai ooc but towards the end is mostly how i feel the situation would happen, so kinda ooc)

TBH, I don't know why I wrote this but hey I love feeding peeps and myself angst so, here you go.

The Ending of The Everlasting Sun. | A Soukoku Angst one-shot |

words: 4264

Dazai’s pov- (it swaps between third and first. I know my writing style is weird af)

The sun, a forever gleaming light in life. They say even in death, the sun won’t fade from your view. For light, something that brings reason to a life so pitched in black is everlasting. There is a place that resides within a person the sun that will never leave. Like the memories that one left behind shall forever hold. Memories will not fade, even as the deceased are placed within mounds of dirt, their body left to neatly decompose.

They say it is natural to feel your heart so heavy. To feel so pained when death washes over. Death can change a human, they say, death is rebirth, something shall always come from it. In some ways, Dazai knew the truth of such words. For he’s experienced the death of his light. At least he had thought the brunette, who’d stuck by his suicidal tendencies, his cruel ways, he thought that man had been the light. He had changed, he’d moved on into the light of this world. His heart may still be shadowed in the darkness the mafia left. The memories of those he left may never leave, but he was in the light. He was the light for another now. Still, dark himself, he’d help lead his news pupil to the light. He repeated this so often, yet why, why did his mind travel back to those days, the days when he was alongside that small ginger boy? The boy with anger issues could be heard a mile away, was he important? Why must he feel as if he left behind something important when he’d listened to a friend's dying wish? Surely he was better off now? He felt better, life wasn’t as black or as unlit as it had once been. So why? Why was it always that ginger that popped into his head on those restless nights? He worried so much if he was okay. If he was out there using that uncontrollable side without him. Ever since he left, he’d worried that ginger would do something as stupid as that. So maybe, just maybe, this world had blessed him with two lights. A light to change, that light had left him to save him. Then the second light, the light that showed him he could love and be loved. This world could take both lights to make such a realization, and eventually, this world, so cruel and dark would. Not by fate, but by the hand of an enemy who sought out Dazai’s weakness.

I stood beneath pelting rain, my mind held within it one thought, where was he? Never had the small boy I'd fallen for in my early teens missed a chance to torment me as I had tormented him. Never had he let the phone, to which we still held each other's numbers unblocked, reach the full number of rings before the voicemail kicked in. I had never felt this before. Nor had I the courage to admit such a thing. For feelings were only a danger to men like myself. I am undoubtedly cruel. Even now, in my early twenties, I stand beneath the rain alone. The mistakes of my past hanging over me for somebody to eventually discover. The past profession I had tried to hide and had hidden well for many years was creeping to my heels. The man whom I'd sought help from was gone, his final words my reason to be in the light. If neither side means anything, he told me to help the defenseless, to help the orphans. That is what I did. I left behind the ginger-haired boy whom, I now say with hesitance, I loved. It is a fine point that I was able to decline such things until after I left the mafia, for otherwise, I may have tried to do good whilst in the mafia, so I could stay with my final light within my life. Many have shed their light on me. The orphan I took in has shocked me many times, reading me in a way I thought only Oda, my extinguished light, could. He knew I was mourning that past friend when he found me at his grave. He continues to shock me to this day, the only one who can occasionally see past the mask I've worn since I was 14, since Mori found me. Kunikida has taught me responsibility and morals. There is still a bottle of things I shall never change. Some people can’t change. My mind prevents me from collecting such information about being human. My ability says it all, does it not? It is a perfect description of myself. The intelligence I share with Dostoevsky is merely one of the many things that keep me behind the wall of change. I may do things for another reason, but I am still a shadow over the people around me. I curse them all, I have brought heavy burdens onto the agency, I harm all of those around me. Love is a feeling I'm incapable of. At least, I can not recognize true love, only conclude that is what this pain is. It is a pain like no other, it is not physical, but no sense of being can push away the tangent throb of every beat. It is my mind, and the way I was brought up so young, that initially warped me beyond repair. That is why I am here, running in the rain despite my coworkers protesting to stop me.

Dazai understood the trap he was headed for, but he knew the trap would result in a fatality either way. If it was his death that waited for him, then he was alright with that. If it was painless, and he died a quick death before his mouth could run to say final bidding words to Chuuya, then he’d die. If this taunt was to break him, if he were to be late, he would drop to his knees and beg his old friend, who lay watching over him, to be forgiven for his actions tonight. If some awful being really did oversee this world, let it give Dazai one moment of peace. Let him have one good light stay until he is gone. He couldn’t do it again, the pain of holding a bloodied body within his arms, it would be hell. He knew not of true mourning, the pain of losing the one, who in a storybook, could be considered a soulmate. He knew it, others knew it, so many people knew the way he stared at Chuuya was not a friendly matter. There was lust within his soft chocolate hues, a hidden cave behind closed doors. Secret thoughts hidden in his mind. The things he wished he could have done before he left, the way he wanted to fix things, to regain what he had lost by leaving the mafia.

With every soft patter, Dazai flew between streets and yards. With every step, he grew closer and closer. With every new step, he felt his heart sink. For the area around was brittle and frail. The ground was crushed and indented. Some buildings lay in tattered pieces. Holes the size of beds lay stretched in the buildings and grass. The worst began to form in his head as his legs picked up into a pace he thought he could never take into. His lungs burned with the inhaled drips of water that turned to flames within his lungs. He pushed past the pain, the burn, the tired flail of limbs. His legs grew numb, but he refused to stop until his arms were flying open doors to a building that looked so horribly damaged.

As if I were the show that night, I could remember the lights. My lungs felt like fire, and my legs were ready to buckle beneath my frail body. I had not eaten a proper meal for weeks, my pockets empty from money spent to cover the scars I had littered my body with. The night is a haze within my mind. An unwilling nightmare I wish to set aside and to never look at again. A night I wish could be rewritten. It was a night that even I had thought the same way as Destoveski. My mind was no longer set right, that side of me to which was feared, had ripped from its confines and torn through to confine me to my own mind. I had truly wanted to tear a sheet from the book spoken about so much in this little town of Yokohama. If it meant my lights could come back and this world could change, then I would, I would do it without a blink. I’d make myself the villain to free my light. I would do it for the right reasons. Yet, I could never ruin the lights of others. There would be too many sacrifices to do such a thing at that moment. To this day, I curse myself for thinking like that man, thinking about such things would make me like him. Dostoevsky was no man I wanted to be.

The light pulsed for a moment before illuminating the room in a sharp glow of white. Dazai stood blinded before the room came into focus, the empty space warm in comparison to the pelting rain. For a moment, the world had paused, allowing his mind to make a sharp halt and think. Though his thoughts were not something he wished to hear. The thoughts inside his head screamed an equal verse to the night he’d lost Oda. He had no more time to pause, as soon as he’d adjusted to the blaring lights, he was scanning the room, finding the spots of blood, the corpses littered on the ground. Then, he was running against his will again. The next thing he knew, he was diving forward too quickly brush against the ginger, who’d consumed his thoughts since they reunited all that time ago.

The first thoughts I had when I felt the cloth of his jacket, the same one I had sown hat-rack into when we were 15, were thoughts of panic. I was always the type of man who wore a mask, but that mask only masked my depression. I yearned for death, I lived to be human, and that feeling you have right as you fall victim to death may be my only chance at life. My co-workers were never worried about me. At first, I had shocked them. I remember the way Kunikida halted with his trust, how on my first job he watched me with a hawk's eye. Never once did I not feel the burning gaze of his judgment. I never blamed him, I was a man with an erased past. There was nothing to tell whether I was good or evil. The day I entered the agency, I would have said I was that darker gray that wisps on the side of black. Today, I would tell you I wanted to be the light, to be good, but I am far from it. It shall always be my nature to look up into another and dive within their soul. My hands are skilled in ways of torture. I could shoot down an enemy with my eyes closed. These pieces of me still exist, even though I had locked them to the confine of my mind, a faraway nightmare that haunted me. The faces of the victims who plead because they had family, haunt me. It’s not remorse I feel, it’s a haunting reminder that I shall never see that friend again. When I die, I shall not meet him in the afterlife, if there is one at all. I like to believe that one can look up and think there is such a place. These thoughts, wishes, all suddenly reappeared the moment his body fell to the floor. Yet, even coated in his own blood, his breathing so unsteady I feared he was only a few breaths from death, he remained beautiful. How could I, a genius strategist with an inhumane IQ, let this happen? Why had I not called him, this ginger, ocean-eyed slug? Chuuya, he’d always be those names to me. I still wonder why we call each other such things, but it makes us both feel alive. With him, I could act like a child, as I never had a true chance to be a child. Even now, if I could muster up the courage as I write, I'd twist the narrative so it looked as if I did not care. If I did that, I would dishonor the words we had shared that night.

Dazai rushed over the pavement to grab hold of Chuuya. His hands sliding over the boy's body to pull him over his lap. His eyes are a sea of worry and panic. One of his hands grabbed the boy’s wrist lightly, his pulse was so slow, his eyes were already slowly dropping, but Dazai stayed confident. “Hey Chibi, you’re an idiot.”

The frail form of the boy beneath him cracked a small smile. “You’re the idiot you- his body racked itself with a spurt of coughs, his lips dripping crimson to join the stains on his perfectly pale skin.- d-damn mackerel.”

Dazai dropped the boy's wrist with a chuckle, pressing his hand to the boy's lips. “Yeah, I know Chibi, I know. - The ginger's eyes began to flutter shut.- No Chibi, your eyes have to stay open. Look, I've got people coming to fix you up. So just try to keep yourself awake.” Dazai’s hand moved to cup the other's cheek. “You’ll be okay.”

Chuuya’s breath staggered a wheeze interrupting the shallow breaths he’d been going through. “I’m dying, aren't I?”

Dazai shook his head, feeling his chest sting with the familiar pain of grief. As if somebody took a microscope over the feeling, it continued to grow. By now, he was sure the pain exceeded the total amount of grief he’d gone through with Oda’s passing. “No Chibi, you’re not… you're not dying.” He paused in that sentence looking down at Chuuya, who laughed dryly.

“So fucking optimistic.” They sat in silence, and Chuuya's eyes fixed on Dazai. Though it was unnoticed by Dazai, his clouded tired eyes were on his lips. He was taking into memory the parts of wishes he’d never get. Every passing second, Chuuya felt his eyes threaten to drip shut. He was trying to listen to Dazai, but his eyes were bricks; sleep a melody that sang to him. With the fear of never waking up again, Chuuya lifted his hand from his side to reach Dazai’s cheek, his blood leaving a mark. “Hey, Dazai.” His voice lacked anything but sincerity.

“No Chuuya. No, you’re okay! Just a few more minutes and Yosano will be here! Fuck, just stop moving, keep your eyes open, keep breathing because you’re alright.” Chuuya had never seen Dazai act like this before. So as Dazai’s hand warmly wrapped around his, his head pressing into the cold touch of Chuuya’s, words were spoken.

“Dazai, I. Never. H-hated… you. I. lov-” before those words could finish, his body was shaking. Tears were forming, he was still conscious and very much alive, but his entire system of organs and cells were rejecting him. The use of corruption had been at its limit long before Dazai had touched him. Before his ability had been canceled out, he was beyond death. The way he coughed his hands, flailing out to grab Dazai’s shirt and press their bodies together, made even Dazai emotional. Dazai managed to still the boy's movements. His eyes half-open as he tried to hold onto whatever string was left. “Lo-” this time he was cut off by Dazai’s hand. His head shaking, hearing Chuuya speak would make this far too real.

He wasn’t ready to let him go. For the first time, he wanted to be far from death, far from the pain and suffering of humankind. So as Chuuya smiled and looked to the ceiling, his hand continued to stroke Dazai’s cheek. A reminder he was still alive.

That moment ended all too quickly when Chuuya took a final staggered breath and looked to Dazai. “Loved you.” He finished his sentence before his eyes dropped shut. His hand slipped into a limp state within Dazai’s hold.

It took the brunette no time to jump to compressions. He continuously screamed. A voice that had never once mourned, or shed a tear, now sat in a contorted expression between agony and doubt. His mind was static, for the first time nothing clear could form within his head. He shrieked out for Chuuya. Open your eyes, he had chanted and begged before he no longer had the strength to continue. He simply fell on top of Chuuya, his ear to his chest praying to hear a soft thud. Three minutes passed before his body, devoid of any, and everything was yanked away. Had he been shown a mirror, one would not have recognized Dazai. His clothes were bloodied, his hair disheveled and wet from the rain he’d run in only a handful of minutes ago.

Dazai sat numbly as his co-workers looked around trying to find if there was any danger left. When the scene was clear and Yosano made the final statement, the world truly crumbled. Still, despite having started CPR and rescue breaths, despite having felt the cooling touch of his skin, Dazai had held onto the hope that Yosano would fix this. He watched as she put on a work face. Her heels clicked across the ground as she walked over to Dazai with a doctor's approach, not a friend's approach. She bent before Dazai and began to speak. “Dazai, I need you to focus your eyes on me, alright?” Dazai could read her mind like an open book. His mind, in his numb state, had returned to his 17-year-old self. Devoid of any real feeling, bent on causing pain and suffering. He tilted his head like that child-self would in this situation. For once, he genuinely felt human. “I understand you were close to Nakahara-san. You were also here at the scene. It’s with much regret-” before she could finish, Dazai’s eyes grew cold and clouded, his lips a snarl as he shoved her.

“He’s okay! Chuuya is okay, he’ll wake up! He always does, even when I have to change things in a second advance because I fucked up. He's okay! We’re soukoku, double black. We can’t be put down. We’re partners, we need each other." even Yosano froze at the sudden outburst. The way Dazai cried without realizing the tears were falling. The way he tried to look happy as if he hadn’t watched Chuuya die within his arms. “Right… he’s okay right?” Dazai hardly knew what he was saying, his head foggy, his mind trying to stay collected.

If one could compare him to anything, one would say that moment he'd looked like a child, no older than fourteen, who’d watched a death before their eyes. Yosano collected herself before shaking her head. She decided to take the approach she’d have with a child instead of an adult. For in this moment, Dazai was experiencing what one could call his first-ever truly emotional loss. This was the first time his mind was catching up with him. “Dazai, Chuuya cared very much for you. You know that right?”

Dazai seemed to calm slightly at the thought as he focused on Yosano. “Yeah, he loved me… he said he loved me.” Suddenly, the situation became worse than she’d thought.

“Mhm, and you loved him too?” Dazai took his time to slowly nod before gulping and shrinking down.

“And now… he’s not coming home. No more loud, annoying comments. No more nights at the bar…” Dazai’s voice choked before the sounds of more footsteps followed in.

A high-pitched female voice screamed in a shrieking roar. “Where is he!” Dazai knew that voice. Kouyo, his Ane-san. At least, at one point she’d been his Ane-san. But his eyes stopped looking at Yosano and instead took a glimpse at Chuuya, whose corpse still lay there.

Once more, Dazai’s emotions took control, and he placed his hands over his eyes and shut himself away. Yosano swore under her breath and stood up. “Which one is he?” Yosano stood up rather angrily. She disliked her conversations being so rudely interrupted, even if it were somebody she had a small connection with.

“Chuuya…” the red-haired female stormed over before spotting Dazai first. His body cradled in like a child. A position she’d never seen him in. Her heart could only lurch to the worst. Hesitantly, she looked off to the side and saw it. The bloodied corpse. She spent no more time looking, she couldn’t.

She shoved Yosano away from Dazai, a boy she had once helped to look after and almost raise. Though she resented the boy for abandoning his role as an executive, she knew how much the pair had been connected. So she’d be a mother or older sister for a bit. Something Dazai had never seemed to have. “Dazai, it’s Kouyo, can you look at me? I just wanna make sure you’re alright.”

Dazai peeked from his arms, sniffing in his delirious state as he lunged towards her. Not in a hostile way, but an embrace. Something he never thought he’d need. He felt so human, so alive, but at the same time, he felt so dead inside. He felt as if his life had been torn and replaced within seconds. This feeling he couldn’t place a name on. “I was too late… I couldn’t, and now he’s and I… it’s all my-'' Kouyo was quick to shut him down, muffling her own sobs as she rocked Dazai in her arms.

“Hush child, these things happen. The fault is never that you could not make it in time. The fault lies within the bastard who did this. He always took extremes to protect you, Dazai. So hush now, let yourself grieve.” There was a slight pause as the agency starred in shock. This woman, who most of them knew as a vengeful woman with no remorse, sat cradling a grown man from an opposing organization as if he were her child, no more like an older sister cradling a younger brother. “Dazai, I won’t criticize your reaction, I've seen it many times in the mafia. Little children who witness death at such a young age think they are immune to it. They find another blame or they say they are monsters. You were 14 when Mori took you in. You never had somebody to teach you to grieve. You never needed to, not until now. So listen to me child, you’re going to let it all out, the years of pain and suffering, the years of grief for lost friends, even I have cried in my life. Nobody is immune to pain, some of us just think we are.” As Kouyo spoke, she noted Dazai’s breathing reached a slowing point. He was fast asleep before she finished her words. Her touch was gentle as she brushed a lock of his hair behind his ears.

Next, she walked over to Chuuya and hung her head, murmuring words of mourning. She walked off quickly, but came back moments later with his hat. “He’d want somebody to have it.” Yosano stood beside Kouyo, who choked back her own tears.

“I think it should go to Dazai. He always mocked his hats, even though he loved seeing Chuuya in them. They really were meant for each other. It’s unfortunate such a great pair ended up… in a life like this. Perhaps they will be reborn in an era where they are nothing but students who fall in love. I like to think there is always a second chance for lives that end too short.”

With a nod, they both looked to Dazai, who looked at peace sleeping on the ground.

~

When I woke up that day after, I could hardly remember anything. I had lost myself completely to the side that was human. I truly did try to live on, but it was difficult. No matter where I looked, I could see his laugh, I hated it. The pain that constantly wrapped around me. Hence, why I sit here with a pen. I never took myself to write my thoughts down. Oda had once ruminated about being a reader, he died before he ever could. I miss them both. I say that, but when I look down at the tear-stained paper, so many of them were for Chuuya. A love I never got to kiss or truly love. Today, I will not wake up. I no longer care about things like making my death overly complex and comfortable. I shall go to sleep with Chuuya’s hat at my side. I shall die with him at my side. That is how it should have been. Chuuya should have lived that night. I shall never know what sparked him to use corruption without me there. All I know is the worst person in the world, Destovesky, who now lay in a ditch from my own pistol, threatened the ginger to such an extent he felt the need to use it. In a way, I have solved several problems with one action. I killed the criminal, and I'm killing the single person whose blood runs more mafia black than any other.

Tag list If you want to be added when I upload fics/HC etc., just shoot me an ask: @jadegreenimmortality

[chocolate-parfait]

Matchup for @bigwintter

bigwintter , dear, tumbrl ate your ask away and I can't seem to be able to tag you for whatever reason. I hope you'll be able to see this nonetheless!

I match you up with... William!

You two are the embodiment of the dark academia aesthetic tbh✨

During your first encounter, you mostly keep to yourself, but Will can tell that you two are, in a way, similar to each other. It all starts with casual and sporadic encounters where the general ambiance is “Oh God, I’m talking to THE William Shakespeare”, but all that quickly dissolves through time. The writer instantly takes a liking to you, a normal reaction to your genuine love for literature, but the more he talks to you, the more he realizes there’s something more to it.

Your aura kinda works like a magnet. It’s in your little gestures, the way you carry yourself, completely at ease despite a 200 years-wide gap between your time and your new surroundings. Most of all, he’s genuinely amazed each time you give him deep and psychological insight about a recently published novel or sometimes even a piece he has written himself. Sometimes you stumble a bit and don’t exactly know how to convey your thoughts in a precise way, but this makes him all the more curious(he finds it very cute, actually). He truly wonders how come you’re able to give a fascinatingly knowledgeable answer to whatever topic the two of you are discussing, and this ignites an always increasingly burning fire deep inside of him.

He tries (unless SOMEONE cough Theo cough forcefully kicks him out) to visit the mansion more often, other times he invites you over to his residence to have a nice chat over some tea. If you feel like it, he even plans some rendezvous in the city to show you around. It’s very nice of him and he acts like a total gentleman! But... some problems may arise when he starts showing his overly possessive side.

Since you know your fair share of information when it comes to psychology and all that may come in handy to diagnose someone with being a yandere (and whatever type of mental illness Shakespeare has), you notice the signs early on, so at least you’re not completely caught off guard. As to how to act next... well, that’s pretty much up to you. You can ask Comte for protection for the rest of the month and then go back home, or you can try and talk it out with him if you prefer.

Since this is a matchup, let’s pretend you chose to stay in the past and confront him about it. You go to his house and he’s acting like usual, although there’s a glint in his eyes that sends a shiver down your spine. When you finally bring up his weird behaviors a switch in his mind flips the other way. It’s a really intense moment because as he’s explaining all the reasons why he deemed it necessary to “protect” you from others, he suddenly realizes that at the root of the whole problem there’s only his genuine affection towards you. But would he act the same way with Vincent? No, of course not. Then, there must be something else to his feelings, right? And the word he had written so many times, the main theme of most of his stories, comes crashing down on him. Love.

He doesn’t outright say it, but it’s subtle and you already know about it. Once more, you can decide whether to correspond to his feelings right away or wait a little longer, just know that you’ll be in for a lot of therapy sessions. This man needs three things: affection, a LOT of reassurance, and someone to show him how healthy relationships work. You can provide him with all three, and though he might reject the idea of change (perhaps even in a violent manner), with time and care he’ll come to understand where the boundaries of a relationship lie. Surely, there will be times in which he falls prey to his darkest thoughts, but the progress is admirable.

His recovery aside, he’s truly one of the kindest lovers out there, getting slightly rough only during horny times (he wouldn’t be able to withstand the guilt of having hurt you), and he never misses out on important dates and small details. There is a lot of unspoken understanding between you two, and with just a glance, you can convey everything that words wouldn’t suffice to describe. Regardless, he still loves composing little poems on the spot just for you (he later writes them down in a thick book that he gifts you for your birthday), pressing a soft kiss to your lips when he’s done reciting his small part.

As a couple, you pretty much have all the freedom in the world. Living in a house far from prying eyes and unwelcome visitors, you can enjoy your much-beloved solitude from the rest of the world. Even in the same house, he will eventually come to respect your wish for independence and alone-time. Though there is a lot of work behind it, you and William finally reach an equilibrium that few couples would be able to maintain for long.

Second choice: Dazai

Despite being quite the trickster, an unprovoked Dazai is a person that enjoys quiet spaces and his fair share of alone time. You two could definitely get along pretty well, but getting past the acquaintances-who-have-some-idle-chat-every-now and then phase? That could be slightly harder.

Everyone has their bad days, and depending on the person, some may want to let the whole world know about their feelings, whether others prefer keeping everything inside. Well, Dazai is definitely the second case. Just as usual, he puts on his happy mask and clown nose in the poor attempt of shifting his focus on his surroundings, but ever so often his facade slips off completely. Be it a glance, an unhappy comment or the sudden quietness, you pick up on it quite easily.

There are many strong personalities that leave their lasting impressions in the mansion. For each you could find at least 10 adjectives to describe them without you even being close, but what about Dazai? At first glance, he seems like one of the most dual characters in the vampiric group; one side of him is warm and caring, completely in the norm, but most things he says leave a certain bitter aftertaste. One could describe him as a breeze, but you had noticed that this warm spring breeze could turn into a chilly autumn one in the blink of an eye.

He’s seemingly a superficial man, but many little details convince you otherwise. Spending a whole month in the past with no one to talk to was out of the question, and mystery man here is the tragic hero that had piqued your curiosity the most so... why not give it a try? You would have to approach him first (he reaches out to people mainly when he sees they're struggling with their emotions), and with the right words here and there his fake smile will crumble away. (you don't necessarily need to be an expert speaker, he's a smart one and will understand what you mean)

Of course, he won't be giving in too easily, but he's quick to notice your genuine interest and curiosity towards him. You'll be going back in a month, so even if he let you see a snippet of who he truly was... it wouldn't be such a bad thing, right? Unfortunately for him, all the romance he has ever experienced in his life was tied to his and his partner's mental health, so with you there to help him out with his emotional state, he's quick to fall for you. (these aren't really spoilers,, its just facts about irl dazai but idk how much they decided to keep in his route tbh, I've only read a general summary)

On the other hand, it may take you some time to realize your feelings, and sometimes you wonder whether your initial reason to get close to him was just your love for psychology. With time, that will all become a secondary matter, for thus you'll start seeing him as a true friend, and perhaps something more.

Oftentimes you hang out in his room and have long discussions while sharing some tea and sweets together. Topics may vary from analysis of fictional characters to more philosophical matter, and a couple dumb jokes here and there: other times the room falls in the most comfortable of silences, the atmosphere warm and relaxed.

Dazai definitely doesn't mind your goofy side, he actually enjoys it quite a lot. You, him, and Arthur could team up and become the most annoying trio of the mansion, much to Isaac's dismay. It's very clear to the Englishman though, that you two have something going on, although you don't seem to be aware of it. He will start teasing you and dropping heavy hints until Dazai eventually confronts him about it. 

When it dawns on you, it doesn't take long before you and Dazai confess to each other and become a couple. If you're both mutually interested then why wait? Your straightforward nature plays a big part in this, despite your communication skills. Dazai secretly admires this aspect of yours, and if you question him about it, he will admit it without embarrassment and the fondest of looks.

As partners, you have a very mature relationship, and neither of you has a problem with meeting the other's needs. The Japanese writer will always respect your wishes and opinions, but every now and then, mostly at nighttime, he will crave your touch and comfort. Old habits die hard, and it's not easy to completely let go of one's past, that is why he seeks your warmth. Offer him your lap, pepper his face with delicate kisses, tenderly stroke his hair; whatever you have to offer will be more than enough for him. These are very intimate and romantic moments between the two of you, in which your bond gets stronger and stronger, although through quiet reassurance and support.

He doesn't necessarily mind PDA, but he'd rather you keep your most explicit gestures to the privacy of your rooms. Nevertheless is a man of great calm and patience, and he's a great actor, too; don't be too surprised if he decides to tease you in public. Generally speaking though, he'll stick to basic stuff like hand-holding and such.

You have dates in the most random of places! The termae, the gazebo, on the riverbank or in some obscure neighborhood of the city. He loves strolling around with you, and he'll get so lost in the feeling of your hand in his that once he snaps out of it he doesn't realize where your feet have taken you.

Another activity that you two could end up doing together is drinking. He takes you to his favorite bar, where he orders his favorite drink, cigarette in hand (he smokes only if you're okay with it) while looking impossibly hot. You can order yourself a beer and then you can have whatever discussion you feel like having. He is not one to judge, and will happily comply and talk about all topics. Whether it's a book you've read or something that happened to someone in the mansion, he will quietly listen to you as he sips on his whiskey or brandy or whatever, adding a thoughtful comment here and there.

[mako-neexu]

Sweet ebony lies

(Dazai was tired. Emotionally and mentally. It's taking a toll on him and this time... He finally snapped)

This song inspired me, and it really suits Dazai, or at least that's what I think. Btw this is part one! So idk this may be triggering to some of you, the warning is Dazai himself. So be careful. I realized the Ada couch is in somewhere the agency so just imagine that the couch is near Kunikida and atsu's desk.

okaaaay hope you enjoyed this thing I wrote. To be posted on ao3 once part two is out.

•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~

How boring.

How utterly boring.

Dazai shifts his position in the couch and wills himself to slumber. There was the rustle of paper and clothing, his co-workers talked to each other, discussed the cases and their lives, they smiled softly at one another. He presses his cheek further into the couch.

He can't sleep.

Dazai turns to Kunikida and emits the most annoying groan he's ever uttered to agitate the blonde. "Dazai, if you're bored, there's always paperwork at your desk." He said without so much a glance as he continued to type. Atsushi worriedly cast a mouthed 'Are you okay, Dazai-san?'

The brunette smiled, practiced and wooden, and gave an affirmative nod. Atsushi's dichromatic eyes lingered on him before turning back to his work. The Tanizaki twins were out delivering a package to a client, while Ranpo-kun lazily flipped through the cases, trying to find something that would suit his interest. There was Yosano-sensei inside her clinic, probably formulating her new method of... 'healing'. Dazai inwardly shudders at the thought.

Kenji-kun seemed to be watering a plant near Haruno-san's desk, thoroughly enamored judging by the sparkle in his eyes.

And Kyouka-chan...

He senses the former assassin standing behind the brown couch. Cautious, he looks at her with wide curious eyes and sits up properly. Smiling at the girl and pats the seat beside him.

"What'cha need Kyouka-chan?" He keeps his voice light and cheerful.

The girl walks around the couch, with Dazai following her body language, breathing, heartbeat, steps, and gaze. He notices something not right. It's in the way she carries herself. It may look like her day-to-day personality but his keen eye had picked up something.

The girl stands in front of him, her blue eyes filled with light but the longer she stared, the more things were bound to go in...the opposite way.

The other agency members looked their way, out of curiosity and...weird foreboding. Kyouka stood in front of Dazai who feigned an innocent curious look.

The girl finally speaks up, "You are Dazai Osamu."

It was deathly silent for a moment. Even the outside seemed to mute itself.

Dazai was about to laugh and ruffle her blue hair when she said once more.

"Demon Prodigy of Port Mafia."

The atmosphere seemed to drop to below the freezing point. The tension was thick and even a needle could break it. Ranpo stopped looking at the cases and peered at them with interest. Although his eyes seemed to convey something akin to worry.

"You were the Right Hand man of a Mafia Boss."

"Ahahaha, Kyouka-chan~ don't tease me like that~" While the brunette said this, he stood up and patted Kyouka's hair. Readying himself to leave before it's too late. His back was turned to most of the agency. His breath hitched, though it wasn't audible, the lines in his coat and stature said so. He stopped walking. In the midst of it all, Yosano was outside her clinic, sitting beside Ranpo and she watched as the event unfolds. The twins were somehow back, silent like a cat. The fear and rapid heartbeats dominating everything present.

Dazai's eyes glinted dangerously.

"You killed a thousand people."

Her sandals clacked, signifying that she took a step forward.

"You were associated with international crimes."

There was a creak - Atsushi's office chair - and his voice was shaky, "Kyouka-cha-"

"You were the one who brought the Port Mafia to it's golden age; the 'Dark Era'." Kyouka clenched her fists and her knuckles became white.

"Your records hold more blood than anyone else's."

Kunikida was about to stop the girl from saying anymore, when she pressed on. Nobody seemed determined to stop her.

Not when the atmosphere was getting heavy by the second.

"You were the heir to take the Port Mafia Boss’ place."

Ranpo at this point had to do something. He had to stop this before it all crashes down to hell. He was still too oppressed by the mood that settled on the agency. Too dumbstruck to move or speak.

"The other half of the vicious underground duo, Soukoku."

Kunikida choked in disbelief, and hesitantly stared at the back of his partner. "D-dazai?"

Atsushi and the other members were stunned too. Save for Ranpo who was trying to figure out something, and Yosano watching them as if they were on the verge of falling into a cliff.

"You nearly killed a person during the Guild's catastrophe."

That hit the mark.

In the slowest possible means, did Dazai turn around, his bangs covering his eyes.

The girl was slightly trembling - fear - etched in her bones and muscles.

She had uttered things no child nor adult should say to a murderer. Former or not.

The sunlight seems to have vanished, replaced with a darkness that Dazai was giving off.

Death was whispering and snickering at her. Laughing at her fate and her useless limbs. She was glued to the spot.

Like a prey caught in a predator's trap.

She couldn't see his eyes. But it's better that way. The horrors were always reflected on that eye. She doesn't want those eyes staring at her with a hue only a real demon could possess.

Every step was equal to a knife lightly dragging itself on the skin.

Every sound was the tick-tick-ticking of a watch's countdown to death.

Dazai stops in front of the girl and raises his hand.

"O-oi, Daza-"

"D-dazai-s-"

"Stop, Daza-"

His hand lands itself on Kyouka's shoulder.

"Fufufufufufu..."

He laughs. And laughs like a fool.

Everyone was dumbstruck.

"E-e-ehh?!?!??!"

Atsushi and the Tanizaki twins sighed in relief, easing themselves from the tension to focus on their tasks. Kunikida was still frozen, processing just what happened before huffing and muttered insults at the brunette. It continued for a moment more...

"Hahahaahahaha!!!"

Ranpo re-adjusts his glasses and furrows his eyebrows. "This is wrong..." He continues to stare at the brunette laughing and cradling himself. Ranpo can't really see his eyes, but he knows that the tone of his laugh was only becoming detached and cold by the minute

Yosano's breath quickened and this...

This is not a good sign.

She has only seen a situation like this once. It all happened gruesomely decades ago. The fear rooted her to the spot and she began shaking, "R-r-ran...po...k-k-kun..."

Dazai had been laughing for more than a minute now. It was beginning to sound hysterical and mad. This laugh was the kind of forced and frantic. A fail to catch a breath, and it all comes out. The girl slowly backed away in growing unadulterated fear and understanding. She ran and hid behind Kunikida, who was beginning to be creeped out as well.

The tension was back, but, if possible, even more darker and sinister.

"D-dazai-san, please calm down..." But it was drowned under the laughs from his mentor.

An aura was settling in the agency, belonging to a creature one cannot begin to fathom.

"Oi, Dazai! What's the matter with you?!" The blonde man began making his way towards his partner. A clenched fist ready to snap him out.

It took Ranpo a glance at Yosano to finally understand the situation.

•••••••••

He wished to tell the president to help Dazai, but that thought was trashed a long time ago, reassured that nothing will happen.

But he didn't care, now he is paying the price.

Everything ends here.

In a blur of adrenaline and blood. 'All that is lost will never return.'

In the back of his mind, he laughs bitterly as a scythe-like smile and the glint of a silvery moon object descends upon him.

[maryniss]

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.

           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.

           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

[chuuteau]

The Bonds that Break Us ~ Dazai Osamu & Fyodor Dostoyevsky

Did someone ask for angst? No. Yet here it is, spewing out of me like a fucking geyser. Feel like this had a lot of layers??Have I finally turned my stories into onions?? It's 2:08 and I haven't slept in three weeks. Might make a second part or a full story, idk, probably not because I suck. Spoiler most of the other stuff I have planned out is fucking angsty as hell too although it has happy endings, kinda sorta maybe.

Everything was so cold. You could feel the temperature drop and the shivers wracking your body. You couldn't tell why you were shaking. Cold, fear, rage, sorrow, shock, or some disgusting mix of all of them. The hair on the back of your neck was standing on end, and the silence that rang through your ears was deafening. 

Fyodor stood there, the cold enough to make his bones ache, but he stood unwaveringly and without a single sign of vulnerability. 

When Dazai had approached the empty alleys in the abandoned area of Yokohama, he was expecting it to just be him and Fyodor, as well as whoever the man set up to trap Dazai. It was going to be their final battle of wits, the defining moment to settle this war between them. Dazai didn't account for you showing up. 

You were a beautiful Port Mafia agent, known for your powerful ability and closed off heart. You were ruthless and saw others as either beneficial or irrelevant. Iron walls surrounded you, and you carried out all of your tasks without a shred of emotion. But Dazai was the famous demon prodigy, and your walls were paper thin in his all seeing eyes. 

His words charmed you, to say the least, his silver tongue caught you off-guard. But you were never one to easily accept someone, and the gleam in his eyes made you wary. He wooed you, weaseled his way into your routine and life until his presence had almost become part of your identity.

The two of you weren't lovers, the two of you had never put a label on your interactions, although sometimes you wondered. When his skin grazed against yours, even for simple things like grabbing a pen, you felt as if you were on fire. When you leaned against him after he invited himself into your home without permission, you could have sworn you heard his breath hitch in his throat. 

It broke your heart when he felt the Port Mafia, and the only sense of familiarity was pulled out from under you, sending you crashing down. The barriers he had craftily passed through became more solid than ever, and the blood that stained your hands only accumulated as you threw yourself into your assignments.

The tenderness he had given you in his looks had to be forgotten, instead you just had to remember was the expressions of hatred and blood lust your targets gave you.

Your ability would no longer be beautiful like he said it was, it must go back to being nothing more than a tool to slaughter. 

When Dazai left you behind, it was like he took the human part of you with him. If you had known how much he wanted to take you with him, you would have cried. You never spoke to each other again, and there were only brief glimpses on the street.

You heard he had defected to the Armed Detective Agency, and that he had changed into a different person. You tried so hard not to listen. The less you knew the better, and if that made you an ignorant fool, you were more than willing to take on that label. 

Fyodor had heard rumors of you floating around, and when he finally looked into your records, he was intrigued. The files were vague, you were almost a ghost. All he had to go on was an impressive kill count and a few blurry pictures of your ability picked up on traffic cameras. You were a valuable asset to him, and he wanted you to play right into his hands. 

He meticulously planned out everything, this moment where he would finally have everyone exactly where he wanted them. The genius had crafted this series of events so he could break you apart, and when you were completely exposed, put you back together in a way where you would never be able to recover from his influence. 

When Dazai entered that ally, he knew there would be a trap waiting for him. He wasn't surprised when he sensed another presence above him. 'A sniper. If he hits me, I'll just make sure it's in a non-vital spot,' he thought to himself, unconcerned by the assassins presence. Fyodor stood ahead of him, his eyes unreadable, but Dazai could sense an air of confidence.

This was truly the ultimate battle, two prodigies ahead of their time going head to head, all other things were irrelevant. No words had been spoken between the two men, the thick silence said everything they needed to know. 

His spine stiffened when he heard footsteps tapping down the ally behind him, he could easily recognize your distinct walking pattern.

The same feet that would patter down his apartment hall in the middle of the night for a glass of water after he managed to convince you to spend the night with him.

The footsteps that hesitated by the edge of his bed when you returned as you wondered if this was really normal like he had said.

The slippers you would kick off onto the floor as he cajoled you into crawling back between the sheets.

The legs that tangled with his when he pretended to be asleep and wrapped his arms around you like it was nothing more than something any acquaintance would do. 

When Fyodor sent him a smile, casual but terrifying, Dazai whipped around to face you. Your face was as closed off as when he first met you, but the second your eyes locked, there was something there. Your (e/c) orbs displayed how you crumbled at the sight of him, and what Dazai hope was affection. 

The gleam of the barrel was in the corner of his eye, and he put his body in front of yours, moving on instinct. He wanted to protect you. His survival and safety were number one. But when it came to you, priorities just didn't seem to work they way they used to. 

The bullet tore through his chest. The flesh and bone that was ripped apart in the path of the unforgiving metal were in agony. He tilted forward, and you reached out to catch him.

His breathing was labored, and blood leaked from his gasping mouth. Dazai could feel the fluids building up in his punctured lung, and breathing felt like a challenge he wasn't sure he wanted to undertake.

As your arms steadied him, and your eyes grew wild with panic, another shot rang out. The sniper was a professional and didn't let the chance escape from him to take out the vulnerable bandaged man. 

The air had already started to get colder as another bullet tore through one of his arteries, lodging near the organ he wished he had admitted long ago belonged to you. 

You sank to your knees, supporting him on your lap. The temperature of the atmosphere kept dropping as you pressed your hands against his cheeks, looking into his chocolate pools that you used to drown in. 

"I'm sorry. I wanted to take you with me," Dazai said with an apologetic smile. 

You know what he was really trying to tell you when he said that. He knew that you knew, as a wave of emotion surged on to your face. He had never really been one for sentiments, and this was the closest thing to a confession that you'd ever receive from the elusive man. 

His eyes slid shut, the galaxies you saw in them dying out as his ragged breathing no longer reached your ears. 

The air was frigid, and ice had already started to coat the ground around your hunched body. It crept out along the paved street, crawling up the sides of buildings, coating the area in a white sheen. 

You clung to Dazai, tears starting to drip down onto his face as you stared at him. You were experiencing more emotions swirling around inside of you now than you had felt in your entire lifetime.

The silence was the most oppressive things you had ever felt, and you felt as though you were suffering. Your breath created small clouds, and you felt your body start to go numb. 

Fyodor stepped back, out of range as you let out a wail. All of your feelings had died out, and the only thing you had now was raw despair coursing through you. As you screamed out, sharp, jagged crystals erupted from the frost you had emitted. They coated the area, shielding you and the barely warm body you clung on to like a lifeline. 

Razor sharp geysers protected you from the rest of the world, but what else was there left for you to protect? Your own well being was far from your mind. 

The sniper was gone, his body torn apart by your outburst. Fyodor had one thing scratch on his arm, blood trickling down the appendage and falling from his fingertips. He was smiling nonchalantly as if nothing out of the ordinary had happened. 

The only possible man who could rival him had been wiped off this plane of existence, and a powerful ally was waiting for him to rip apart like a piece of prey. 

He couldn't lie to himself in thinking he was just interested in your ability. He couldn't deceive himself into thinking that he didn't see something in you besides potential.

The stoic mask you usually wore irritated him. Seeing it crumble sent a jolt of exhilaration through his body. He looked forward to seeing the other faces you would make whole he had you wrapped around his finger.

Since he discovered your existence, your fates had been inescapably intertwined. The red strings that were your lives had been tied into a knot, and he was planning on choking you with your own thread. 

Fyodor's hands were warm against your face, and you let your arms fall to your sides, your empty eyes looking to him. He could practically taste the desperation, and he used his thumb to wipe away a stray tear.

You were spent, you were tired. Like an animal caught in a noose, you had exhausted yourself and no longer had the energy to fight what was about to happen. You couldn't resist it, so you embraced it. 

You lifted your hands to cover his, gripping onto his warmth as the one in your lap faded.