#in the wake of an extremely disorienting and traumatic event. that hits each of them uniquely hard.

[moe-broey]

I. Did not achieve a lot today (understandable considering the circumstances), but. You need to See.

The SADDEST. SOGGIEST. Sharena I have EVER drawn.

Also maybe a little snippet as a treat...

You'll have to fight my messy roughs and handwriting for it though 😤😤😤

[lackedflaw]

overture

odasaku-centric 1,998 w

a.n: yes, this is supposed to be a five-hundred words drabble chronicling odasaku’s stay in koi. no, i don’t know what hit me ;;

he opens his eyes and everything is too bright.

ears ringing, head pounding, eyelids feeling like they weigh a ton each. his first instinct is to raise a hand to obstruct the sunlight from coming into his eyes, blinking the pain away until he’s able to make out the green of the trees and blue of the sky. 

then he hears the muffled screams, coming from somewhere in front of him. sakunosuke rises to his feet, struggling to stave off the oncoming wave of nausea by propping both hands on his knees, vision still adjusting as he looks for the source of the noise. it takes him a few seconds to realize that he is standing on a parking lot somewhere, another few to spot a white van parked not far from him as the source of the screams.

sakura? and yuu�� and kousuke. what’s going on?

adrenaline takes over before any rational thoughts does; sakunosuke doesn’t even know why he springs straight into action and sprints towards the van at the sight, stumbling on his own foot once or twice in the process. he does know that there's an inexplicable sense of urgency that tells him to run as fast as he can, to not stop until he has all five of them safe in his arms- to tell them that he's there, it's going to be okay, they're going to be——

the explosion that occurs right after sends him flying thirty meters backwards, hot air hitting his face without mercy as he crashes upon the gravel. sakunosuke briefly registers the pain blooming all over his body, ignores the sting of scrapes and cuts on his skin as he stares at the burning car before him, throat burning from the cry of anguish that doesn’t sound anything like his voice.

he thrashes wildly on his bed and his head knocks against the headboard, jolting him awake.

he opens his eyes and darkness is the first thing that greets him. 

breathing comes in mouthful of air and painful inhales, memories of the black smoke from his dreams constricting against his lungs. yet the throbbing pain upon his joints feels like a fleeting sensation, almost like a mere ghost, now that he’s back in the comfort of his apartment in koi. for a moment everything is disoriented, mind still hazy from the sudden shift to consciousness.

sakunosuke attempts to sit up straight, hands grasping on the front side of his abdomen only to release a relieved sigh when his fingertips comes in contact with a damp t-shirt. there’s no trace of gravel- only the crumpled surface of his bed sheets and his own perspiration making his shirt cling onto him like a second skin.

nightmare. it’s just a nightmare- an extremely realistic one at that, too.

heaves a sigh, fingers brushing his own bangs off of his forehead. the frequency between one terror-filled night to another is getting shorter and shorter for his liking. sakunosuke steps out of his bed and discards the shirt he's wearing, crumpling it into a ball before throwing the gray cloth into the laundry basket. the fact that it was about his children this time isn’t helping at all. could it be because he's been missing them more lately?

azure shifts to the digital clock on his nightstand, red lines making out the shape of ‘03:56 AM’ jarring amidst the darkness. it’s too early to get up and make coffee, yet too late to fall back to sleep when he has work in three hours. maybe getting fresh air would do him good...

and by fresh air, he meant retrieving a cigarette pack and ashtray that he swore off not to touch a couple of months ago from his socks compartment.

the sky is still a dark shade of blue when he slides open the door to the balcony. sakunosuke leans against the railing as he plucks a cigarette from its container and clamp it between his lips, taking notice of that the streets down under isn’t as quiet as he thought it would be. but then again it’s only natural with the belladonna district only a short walk away. 

an idea to grab his coat and walk around the said district crosses his mind. being a member of the port mafia granted him access to a lot of places that most people rarely think of going into in yokohama. he can’t help but wonder if the nightlife district in koi is similar to the ones they have back home. 

although he wouldn’t be surprised if they end up kicking him out, now that he’s a detective for the local police force.

taking a drag of his cigarette, he lets his mind wander off to the distance, relishing the pleasant burn that trails down in his throat. the night air is cool, yet not particularly harsh upon the bare skin of his abdomen. he waits for a few seconds to exhale—just to get that little kick before releasing the smoke through his mouth. a little bit of nicotine never fails to soothe his jotting nerves, even after the most horrifying of nightmares or traumatizing event. 

ah, right- he forgot to check on his roommate. hopefully he didn’t wake micah up with his little incident from before. he has been nothing but accommodating throughout they time cohabiting together, even with that one awkward first dinner where sakunosuke took the initiative to cook spicy curry for both of them. it was sakunosuke’s first time sharing something so personal as a living space with someone else other than his mentor and micah’s presence feels almost natural around him, although he probably still needs to work on his own conversing skills with the latter.

to think about it… how long has it been since he arrived in koi? sakunosuke had lost track of the time. with the abrupt change happening in his lifestyle, he didn’t have the luxury of sitting around idly on the living room, having to go job hunting and get accustomed to the odd city he finds himself stranded in. it was fortunate that he managed to land a job in a cafe despite not having any prior experience in the hospitality or the restaurant business. 

he doesn’t suppress the smile that quirks the corner of his lips when he recalls his  former? boss’ words to him after their first encounter in the cafe. ‘it suits you’ chuuya had said when he served his tea to him. those three words—although simple ( and funny, coming from a port mafia executive )—left a lasting impression more than saku think it could. who would’ve known someone like him could also play the role of an ordinary barista? a child groomed since young to be a deadly assassin only to join the mafia afterwards, now playing house by making tea and serving cakes? makes him think that maybe, the black of his blood and gushing red on his hands can really be a thing of his past. that maybe, he can redeem himself completely.

then there’s the girl he met by the river after causing her to drop her crepe. the girl with large round eyes, yet no trace of the innocence most kids her age usually possess. what was her name again… kyouka? kyouka izumi? looking at her almost makes him feel like he’s seeing a reflection of his past self--except more hopeful, and loved. they have only met once but sakunosuke is sincere when he hopes that she could lead a better life than he did. 

his eyes drift towards a small potted flower near him as he releases another puff of smoke. it comes as a surprise to him that the begonia flowers he purchased from oichi’s workplace hasn’t wilted yet. sakunosuke has never been a potted flowers type of person before, as he considers them too beautiful- too fragile for someone like him to touch, but he didn’t put much thought into buying it since he wanted to congratulate the oichi for landing a job there. there's just something about her that makes him want to stay close, to make sure that her well-being is taken care of. is this what one would call as platonic affection?

speaking of affection… two brunettes are the first that come to mind.

first is dazai. his friend, who also happens to be one of the port mafia executives—or at least former, according to dazai himself. out of the other familiar faces he had encountered throughout the city, dazai was the one he didn’t see coming at all. it’s almost as if he’s a completely different person now... the way he’s dressed, the way the baby fats are gone and replaced by strong lines and sharp edges, shoulder much broader and nearly a head taller than the last time he had seen him. his gaze is also no longer hollow but melancholic, almost—for the lack of a better word—soft. dazai said it has been years since their last meeting that night in lupin, so sakunosuke supposes that not even a human conundrum like him can escape from time’s grasp.  

and ango. ango, ango, ango——

something stings inside his chest at the thought of the bespectacled man. sakunosuke used to think that he is the farthest thing from emotional, knows that rationality should precede any form of sentimental value, and yet he still finds himself upset at ango’s condition when he, from all people should know how disconcerting it is to lose a chunk of one’s memories. the city did it to him- to them. it’s unfair to blame one person for something he cannot help at all.

but that’s what ango has been capable of doing from the start, right? bringing out a side of him that even sakunosuke doesn’t know exist for the better or worse, knowing where to hit and where to stroke gently, his limit and what he’s capable of.

and subsequently spurred saku to take that trust fall years ago. 

“i want to take you around the streets of rome."

a shadow of a smile creeps up to his lips as he thumbs the ghost of a kiss upon his knuckle. although koi is not rome, they can make do with what they have now. like they usually do.

the sky has turned into a splash of indigo and coral by the time sakunosuke is done with his third stick. he takes one last drag—the longest one he had that morning—before extinguishing it on the ashtray and disposing the leftovers to the nearest trash bin. it’s a routine that he finds himself still unable to give up, rooting from the guilt of breaking a promise he made years ago with a certain someone. although they aren’t physically there to reprimand him, sakunosuke prefers to think that they’re always with him, in his heart.

gathering the pack and ashtray in his hand, he steps back inside the apartment before closing the sliding door behind him. the sun peeking behind the clouds illuminating the outlines of their apartment with a soft glow, providing sakunosuke with a better lighting to navigate around than an hour before. he quickly slips the two items back in it’s hiding spot and makes a beeline to his bathroom.

but not before something out of place catches his eyes in the full-bodied mirror of the closet door, causing him to retrace his steps back until he sees his full reflection upon it. 

a scar that can only be described as coming from a gunshot wound, not bigger than the size of a dime yet prominent on the smooth expanse of his skin, sitting on the lower right side of his chest, dangerously close to his heart. sakunosuke instinctively raise a hand to touch the uneven skin, mirror reflecting his furrowed eyebrows back at him. the scar doesn’t feel new- but not faded enough to come from his assassin days. how come he just noticed this now?

where did this one come from?