Chapter Text
They say dreams are a way to show you what life could be like if you dared. Dreams are the impossible where it shows what could be possible.
But nightmares…
They are simply what you fear in the deepest corners of reality.
So when Chuuya meets this stranger called Oda, and showing him between a dream and a nightmare, he doesn’t know how to comprehend it.
“This is not going to be easy,” Oda says carefully. “But you are the only one who can save him.”
Chuuya furrows his brows and says, “What are you talking about?”
“Dazai Osamu.”
The redhead’s ears perk up as he hears the name. It’s not a very common name but somehow… it’s familiar.
Dazai Osamu.
Chuuya licks his lips and his hands fold into fists, looking at the ground, trying to remember who Dazai is.
Dazai Osamu. Dazai Osamu.
He breathes out a shaky breath and turns away from Oda. Chuuya suddenly feels uneasy as he shuts his eyes, trying to remember a face. His mind starts to rush into a frenzy of messy blurred memories of remembering someone.
The missing piece.
A brunet in the campus.
Deep down, he knows something was itching in his mind whenever he sees a male brunet. Someone with messy waves of brown locks starts to visualize in his mind.
Dazai Osamu. A brunet.
Chuuya starts to pace around and ignores the stranger silently watching him from afar. This doesn’t feel right.
Bandages.
Whenever he sees someone wearing bandages on his team, it irks him sometimes because he knows someone who uses them too much. Wasting material for tragic reasons.
Dazai Osamu. brunet. Bandages.
“Fuck…” the redhead curses under his breath.
Chuuya’s heart races in panic, his hands start to sweat, and his eyes are unfocused, his mind rushing into several realizations.
Dazai Osamu. Dazai Osamu. Dazai Osamu.
For what feels like years in the past several weeks, he has been looking for something that is missing. His days and nights have been incomplete.
Stagnant.
And lonely.
Chuuya has never felt lonely before. Even if he has, it never really bothered him. He is already content in his life. He’s goal-oriented, a great team player, and a bright student. He has a great circle of friends, and he can always meet his parents during breaks. Even with a tough coach, the redhead knows his progress in sports has increasingly progressed.
But ever since he began feeling like he lost someone, the loneliness turned into his loyal companion.
Dazai Osamu. Brunet. Bandages.
“Films,” Oda says gently as if the noise in the redhead’s mind is loud enough for him to hear.
Chuuya’s head shoots up and turns to Oda.
“He loves films, Chuuya.” A sad smile appears on the stranger’s lips. “He’s very good at making it. He’s one hell of a good filmmaker.”
Without realizing it, those strong blue eyes were starting to get blurry with tears. It slowly starts to flow down Chuuya’s cheeks as he stares at Oda.
Dazai Osamu. brunet. bandages. Films.
He loves films.
Flashes of memories rush into Chuuya’s brain. Memories of Dazai sharing his visions, stories, and what he loves about films. He remembers him sharing his struggles in film classes because of a professor. He remembers how much Dazai loves the work he’s been trying to finish.
It’s called Buraiha. I’m still deciding if that’s the final title…
“Oh god… oh god. Oh my god…” Chuuya lets out a choked sob and covers his mouth. The tears all flow down without stopping as his shoulders slightly shake.
Dazai Osamu. Brunet. Bandages. Films.
He remembers how they met at the cliffside, all those incidents and signs of Dazai’s presence—no matter how annoying it was, Chuuya never really wanted him to stray away.
He remembers the cheeky and charming smile after all of Dazai’s ridiculous teasing. The redhead would curse at him without caring if anyone heard him or not. The brunet never really minded if he burst out loud out of nowhere. People shoot weird glances his way, but Dazai’s eyes have always been on Chuuya.
Then he remembers the dreams.
Chuuya’s heart aches at those cherished moments they had at night. Both men could have gone hours and hours on talking about anything under the stars.
They were each other’s sanctuary. They were safe from all of life’s troubles.
He remembers how their hands would intertwine together as they lay on the grass. Sometimes remaining in comfortable silence to be at peace. Dazai and Chuuya never crossed the line when it came to physical touch in their dreams.
By holding each other’s hands, or whenever the redhead would tuck a hair behind Dazai’s ear, and even when Dazai caressed Chuuya’s head playfully, it was enough to believe they had each other no matter what.
He remembers the lingering touches from the brunet’s fingers; sometimes, Chuuya wouldn’t hesitate to grab Dazai’s hands back. Surprisingly, it would fluster the brunet.
He misses him.
Terribly.
As if a bullet is burning right through his heart, there isn’t anything strong enough to stop Chuuya from crying. His knees buckle as they hit the ground, his own arms wrapped around himself until all Oda can do is listen to the redhead sobbing.
Trembling and heavy breathing, letting the tears fall on the ground, Chuuya sobs miserably.
How did he forget him? Why did he start to forget the man he loves?
The man he desperately wished to the stars that night and every other night that followed.
“Chuuya,” Oda softly calls him.
But the redhead doesn’t have the strength to lift his head up and wraps himself closer to cry harder.
I miss him.
I miss him so much.
I fucking miss him.
“I know, Chuuya…” Oda says, carefully stepping closer to kneel right next to him. “He misses you too.”
But the redhead continues to sob and hug himself. He can never forgive himself for forgetting Dazai. He can’t believe most of his memories were slowly erased. No wonder why Chuuya has felt empty every single day.
“Do you want to see him?” Oda asks.
Finally, Chuuya looks at Oda with tearful eyes, suddenly alert. “You know where he is?”
“It’s a bit complicated, but yes.”
The older carefully helps Chuuya stand up and hands him a handkerchief from his pocket. The redhead wipes his tears and asks, “What do you mean by complicated?”
“There’s something you have to understand first.”
Oda lifts his right arm slowly and points his index finger up to the stars. Following his line of sight with furrowed brows, Chuuya sees how Oda starts to drag one of the stars down, to get closer to the both of them.
It’s like a shooting star.
“Holy shit…” Chuuya whispers.
The star shines gently as it finally stops at both of their eye levels. Flicking his wrist, the star shines brightly and expands to form like a cloud, slowly starting to show something to Chuuya.
It’s as if it is a screen right in front of him.
And the first thing he sees is Dazai standing at the beach with a stranger. After what felt like years of not seeing the brunet, Chuuya’s heart aches to step into the starlike cloud and run to him. Keep him close and never dare to put any distance between them again.
“Let me explain this,” Oda says, breaking his thoughts.
For the past several long fifteen minutes of Chuuya’s life, Oda has been explaining every detail of Dazai’s conversation with Natsume. It’s a lot to process since the redhead still can’t believe he’s looking at the brunet again.
He looks awful. But so fucking pretty.
Oda had to repeat some details that Natsume revealed to Dazai.
The cause, risks, and consequences are because of the two.
Until Chuuya hears Dazai screaming.
No, begging for the stranger named Natsume, to give him more time to see the redhead.
In all of those months of Chuuya knowing Dazai, he has never heard his friend plead desperately for something like this.
Never has he seen Dazai scream, cry and plead, completely vulnerable to someone like this.
It breaks Chuuya’s heart. He wishes it doesn’t have to be this hard. He should have wished to the stars that Dazai didn’t have to be so fucking far.
“Tell me something and be honest,” Chuuya finally says to Oda without taking his eyes off the brunet. “Where is Dazai now ?”
Oda remains silent.
“I understand what you’re trying to show me here. What this man is trying to say to Dazai, but this already happened. So where. Is. Dazai. Now.”
Blue eyes turn dark and Oda knows he should not test the redhead’s patience. There’s buried rage and a sense of protectiveness over the brunet. So he took out something from his pocket and carefully holds it out.
A small, round disk-like compass painted with a faint gold color. Chuuya attempts to open it but it stays in place. Firmly locked.
“What is this?” he asks.
“A confession dial.”
“What does it have to d—”
“Dazai is inside it,” Oda says grimly.
Chuuya blinks in confusion.
The older sighs and takes the confession dial back into his hand. “After I showed you their conversation at the beach, Natsume-sensei says there are consequences for Dazai’s actions.”
“Yes, and this is it.” Chuuya groans. “This is the consequence! The two of us being separated, worlds apart, and memories of each other’s existence being erased!”
“Yes but,” Oda shakes his head. “Dazai is still being punished for it.”
“What… what do you mean?”
Oda lifts the confession dial again. “This is his punishment, Chuuya. Being inside this device is a prison. It makes the prisoner be stuck in an endless time-loop with their greatest fears. In Dazai’s case, he has to… confess that he willingly and intentionally planned to meet you at every opportunity. If he does, he will be free.”
“I… I don’t—”
“He has broken every universal law that Natsume-sensei made to be with you. Dazai has crossed several parallel worlds again and again .”
Oh fuck.
Oh, holy flying fuck.
No.
He’s going to be sick.
“The Dazai you met at the cliffside will not only experience his own fears and traumas in his time but also all the other Dazais’ world.”
He’s going to throw up his entire guts.
Chuuya’s hands start to tremble, his face utterly in distress. “He doesn’t deserve this.”
“I know.”
“He doesn’t fucking deserve this!” he roars and the rage inside of Chuuya is starting to take over his entire being. “Don’t you think after everything that’s happened, erasing my memory of his existence is a punishment enough?”
“It was not my decision to make.”
“Screw you, what the fuck is the point of you?!”
Oda doesn’t flinch at the insult. He only looks at Chuuya sadly.
He wants to punch someone in the face. Anyone who could be responsible for putting Dazai in this confession dial.
Chuuya turns to Oda., “Why now?”
“What?”
“Why are you, a stranger, telling me this now? After so many months of not hearing from Dazai. Why now? ”
Oda licks his lips and his eyes stay firmly on the ground for a few minutes. His eyes finally stare right back at the redhead and says, “A confession dial is only given to a family member or to the closest friend of the prisoner.”
The older man steps forward, “When it is given to the person, it means…”
Oda could not help but hold his breath and tried to focus on Chuuya’s face.
He doesn’t like this.
Chuuya is going to break.
“It means the prisoner inside the confession dial is about to die.”
No.
Chuuya’s heart sinks. His feet feel unsteady as if the ground is about to break apart, take him down and eat him whole.
He’s going to die.
Dazai is going to die.
The redhead doesn’t feel any tears coming out. He has spent much of his energy crying and screaming over him and to hear this news out of nowhere, doesn’t feel real.
“Chuuya,” Oda says gently as he approaches him. “We don’t have enough time.”
No.
“I will not let Dazai die.”
“We can’t—”
The redhead turns to Oda and all of the determination and rage in his eyes turns dark and deadly to the older. Oda stops in his tracks and can’t help to feel a little terrified of how Chuuya is looking at him.
As if ready to pulverize his own skull.
To kill him if he makes one wrong move.
Because right in front of him, is not the passionate football athlete Chuuya he’s heard of.
It’s all of the Nakahara Chuuya in every realm combined. Somewhere deep inside this man in front of him, all of their fury and strong love for Dazai is a power that must not be pushed.
“I will not,” Chuuya says in a dangerous tone, “let Dazai die.”
“He has little time left. There’s nothing you can do.”
“I can do whatever the fuck I like!”
“ Chuuya— ”
“No, you listen to me.” the redhead strides forward so quickly that Oda steps back in fear. “I will not let some guardian of this goddamn universe torture the man I love in all the multiple worlds that exists.”
Chuuya’s eyes are hard on the taller man as he breathes heavily.
“It is not our fault that we are being pulled together. It’s not our fault we found each other multiple times. Why is it such a heinous crime to any world in this goddamn universe, to let two people be together?”
His hands reach for Oda’s shirt and grips it tight. He pulls the taller one down to his eye level and shows the fury in his dark sapphire eyes.
“No matter how many times you assholes keep us apart, it will never change how I feel for Dazai.”
Together or not at all.
“I will do anything in my power to be with him,” Chuuya continues. “To hell with the whole universe ending and shit. What worth is it living in a world without the man I love? I will rip out every realm to be with him. You want to know why?”
Oda licks his lips, “Why?”
“Because love is not an emotion. Love is a promise. ”
Chuuya suddenly pushes him back, strong enough for Oda to stumble. “So you better tell me how to get him out of that dial.”
“There will be consequences.”
“Fuck it, as if knowing Dazai’s is going to die isn’t enough for you all.”
The older drags his hand down his face and sighs. “None of this is my plan, Chuuya. Did you actually think I was part of all of this? I don’t want Dazai to suffer like this as much as you do.”
The redhead glares at him, “Then who are you? Who are you to Dazai?”
Oda steps closer to him and gently holds the confession dial in the palm of his hand. “I told you. Confession dials are only given to the closest friend or family member when the prisoner is about to die.”
As if seeing him for the first time, Chuuya finally realizes what Oda meant.
The confession dial wasn’t delivered to Chuuya. It was to Oda.
Closest friend.
The redhead remembers that one night. The night when Dazai told him about the story he wanted to tell in his film.
I… I don’t know where it came from but the protagonist’s name is Oda Sakunosuke.
Chuuya looks at him, bewildered at the sudden memory. “But you’re just… I thought you were just a character in his story.”
“We’re all stories in the end,” Oda says softly. “Stories are where memories go when they’re forgotten.”
The older carefully approaches Chuuya and places the confession dial in his hands. “But this isn’t about me or you right now. This is about Dazai’s life. You need to save him.”
“How? I thought he has to confess himself?”
“You have to get inside Dazai’s head. You have to speak to him and let himself confess.”
“I… I don’t—”
“You two met every night in both of your subconsciousness,” Oda says firmly and places both of his hands between Chuuya’s soldiers. “If you did it before, you can do it again.”
“We didn’t even plan those!”
“You have to try , Chuuya. He’s running out of time.”
Heart racing in his chest, and his eyes stare at the confession dial in his hands. It’s just a round disk compass. Oda claims that Dazai has broken every law to be with him. Sacrificing his own life and repeatedly torturing himself with different lifetimes of various versions of himself.
But where was Chuuya the entire time? Where were his alternative selves in those worlds?
A terrible sinking feeling hits him.
How many has he lost?
How many Dazais?
“If I save him,” the redhead says with his eyes still glued on the dial. “What happens next?”
“You should worry about it later.”
Chuuya frowns. It’s not exactly the answer he needs but he was right. There’s not enough time for questions.
Dazai’s dying.
The redhead lifts his head up and looks at the stars above him. The same billions of stars he spent with Dazai in all those nights they were together. Dazai mentioned the stars could be useful to them. If he was being honest, Chuuya doesn’t entirely trust that the stars above them would give them a chance.
But at this point, he’s desperate. If there’s the slightest chance to save Dazai’s life, he would do it.
In a heartbeat.
Slowly closing his eyes and puts all of his concentration to keep his mind blank. With everything that Chuuya has to offer, he pleads to the stars.
Let me save him.
Help me save Dazai. Please.
I’ll do anything. Anything at all.
The night sky above him starts to shine brighter, hearing his every plea. His fingers hold the disk tighter as he brings it closer to his chest. His own memories slowly started to come back into his mind. All of those moments where reality did not matter to them. Every single glance and touch they shared, the stories they told to one another, the dreams they want to pursue, Chuuya holds them tight.
Let me save him.
Even with all the bickering, teasing and sick jokes they pull at one another, it always ended up as the two of them smiling at one another. Chuuya shuts his eyes tighter and keeps those memories close.
Dazai’s smile. He remembers how handsome and charming the bastard looks. His heart would jump whenever he saw him smile.
Help me save Dazai.
The brunet’s voice and laughter. It is Chuuya’s favorite sound. He wants nothing more but to keep it on replay in his head forever.
For what feels like hours, he prays silently to the stars to save the man he loves.
When Chuuya opens his eyes, he is no longer at the cliffside.
But now he is in a dark bricked hallway with small windows, with not enough light to show where exactly he was. His ears pick up sounds of different screams and wailing. A chill runs down his spine as the hairs on his arms stand.
He is inside the confession dial. Inside all of Dazai’s fears and trauma.
And the brunet is nowhere to be found.