Chapter Text
Chuuya, honestly, couldn’t gauge out what he had been thinking when he had revealed who he was to one amnesiac Dazai.
But there was one thing that he knew and understood now. Dazai had never left him. The reality of that hit him faster and harder than any freight train could ever. Dazai had never wanted to leave him. He had gotten into an accident. He had gone into a coma.
Chuuya remembers a 17-year-old him, constantly going to Dazais house everyday despite knowing that Dazai and Mori no longer lived there, hoping that maybe one day, Dazai would be there. Chuuya had always hoped that he would be able to catch one last glimpse of his Dazai. Hoping to know that he was well, that the dark bags under his eyes had faded away, just as they had when Dazai and him had started a sleepover routine to help Dazai sleep better. Hoping to know that Dazai was no more skin and bones, that he had gotten more meat onto him, something that Chuuya had noticed after he had started bringing an extra bento for Dazai.
Chuuya knows that everything that he had done back then had been stupidly hopeful. But Chuuya had never truly stopped hoping even after he graduated high school. Chuuya had always been silently hoping when it came to Dazai. Just like how he had never really stopped loving Dazai. His wonderful, beautiful, breathtaking, Dazai.
And oh, how Chuuya’s heart started singing an old song of love and joy, the moment he saw Dazai again.
After Dazai returned the book and confronted Chuuya at the library, he had suggested that they meet up the next day at a café that Dazai often frequented. They had exchanged numbers and Dazai had sent the location of the café to Chuuya. The café was near their university so Chuuya had a hunch that maybe, he had visited the café before at some point. It wasn’t uncommon for him to do solo and group assignments at one of the many cafés near the university. Chuuya had, of course, agreed, deciding to follow his traitorous heart.
Now, as Chuuya walks, on his way to the café, he can’t help but wonder.
Does Dazai still like the same type of coffee as he did when they were teens?
Does Dazai still eat the same type of food as he used to?
How much of his childhood does Dazai remember?
Chuuya was excited but as excited as he was, he was also nervous, scared. Scared of seeing his Dazai, the Dazai that he loved with all of his heart and soul, become a stranger right before his eyes.
Oh, how he wished.
How he wished for Dazai to still love the same type of coffee.
How he wished for Dazai to still enjoy the same type of food.
How he wished for Dazai to remember all of his memories that contained Chuuya.
How Chuuya wishes.
By the time Chuuya was finally out of his wonderings, he realized that he was standing right in front of the café. The café was surprisingly calm for a café near a huge university. There were only a few people seated inside. They were drinking simple drinks, like black coffee and green tea.
The menu at the café was also quite unique. It only contained classic drinks. No too modern nor complicated drinks were present on the menu.
Not that Chuuya ever drank any of the more complicated, overly sweet or bitter drinks anyways. He preferred his coffee black with no sugar. Chuuya’s eyes scanned the menu, searching for a familiar drink. A drink that Dazai often enjoyed back in their younger days.
The moment Chuuya’s eyes landed on the name of the drink, he realized that he had finally found a conclusion as to why Dazai liked this café, other than the main reason of the café being near empty. Dazai had never really liked crowded places since he was a young child.
Chuuya, spotted Dazai’s mop of brunette curls after a quick look at the tables in the café. He was seated at a table for two near the drinks pick-up counter. He had a hot cup of mocha coffee on the table and he was chatting quietly to the barista that was manning the counter.
“Hey, Dazai,” Chuuya called, internally sighing in relief when he had caught himself before he could call him ‘Osamu’.
Chuuya watched as Dazai perked up, a bright smile colouring his face. Dazai had lit up like the sun, very much different from his previous demeanor where he had looked grey, dull, as he chatted with the barista. He had looked painfully bored as the barista chatted him up.
The barista, sensing that he was longer needed, walked away.
“Chuuya-san!” Dazai called and Chuuya flinched at the unfamiliar addressment.
Chuuya cleared his throat awkwardly, as he took the seat opposite Dazai.
“You can just call me, Chuuya, without the honorifics,” Chuuya said with a soft smile.
Dazai noted that Chuuya’s smile looked sad, melancholic in a way that tore away at his heart. Albeit his brain not knowing a single thing about Chuuya, his heartstrings just always seemed to be pulled into certain directions ever since Dazai saw Chuuya. It frustrated Dazai because he doesn’t know why Chuuya affected him in such a way.
“Chuuya… Could you tell me about how we were when we were in high school? My father mentioned that we were extremely close in high school. He said that we were constantly sleeping over at each other’s houses and that it was common for us to always hang out together after school and also, during the weekends. Please tell me, Chuuya,” Dazai was close to pleading.
Chuuya, almost choked on his saliva. He thought of what he wanted to tell Dazai. The truth? Or something far from it? What was he going to tell Dazai?
We were great friends!
We were extremely in love with each other, dating and I was planning to propose to you as soon as we got into university!
Chuuya felt like throwing up from how devastated the sudden question had made him. He wanted to cry and scream and pull his hair out.
“Let’s talk over a drink, yeah? I’ll go get myself a coffee first,” Chuuya quickly evaded the question, excusing himself politely as he swiftly got off his seat to got to the front counter.
A different barista was manning the front counter. He was a bespectacled blonde man. His nametag read Kunikida.
“A black coffee, please. No sugar,” Chuuya ordered. Kunikida gave Chuuya a subtle once over before looking back at Dazai where he was seated.
He nodded as he keyed in Chuuya’s order at the cash register and informed Chuuya of the amount to be payed. After settling the payment and receiving the receipt, Kunikida went back to the coffee making station to prepare Chuuya’s drink.
Chuuya relaxedly walked over to the pick-up counter. The barista from before, the one that had been talking with Dazai, served the drink. He was shorter than Kunikida, his nametag read Ranpo.
Chuuya thanked him as he picked up his cup and headed back towards the table where Dazai was at.
As Chuuya slid into his seat opposite Dazai. Dazai look gloomier than he had been before Chuuya arrived and a sense of guilt ate away at Chuuya’s insides.
“I’m sorry,” Chuuya apologized on instinct, too used to apologizing to Dazai when they were younger and Chuuya had constantly made mistakes that had made Dazai upset.
Dazai looked up, confused. He had not noticed Chuuya taking his seat opposite him. Dazai cursed himself for being careless. He didn’t want Chuuya to know how sad and confused he was feeling over all this. Meeting Chuuya had been a happy occasion for Dazai. Dazai was overjoyed that he had gotten the chance to meet his childhood best friend again, a person that he vividly remembers in his so little number of memories.
To meet Chuuya again, felt like he was meeting someone that he had met just yesterday, as Chuuya was still fresh and vivid in his memories. When Dazai had asked about his high school years with Chuuya and Chuuya had walked away, Dazai had thought that Chuuya and he had in actuality drifted apart in high school and that his father had lied to him about his closeness with Chuuya in high school to comfort him.
“No, I’m the one who should be sorry, Chuuya. I don’t have any memories of us after kindergarten, so I shouldn’t assume that we were close even after kindergarten. I shouldn’t have blindly believed my father. Please forgive my rudeness, Chuuya. I’m also sorry for confronting you in such a way yesterday and pressing you to meet up with me. I was merely overexcited that I’ve finally met someone that I remember and knew for once,” Dazai apologizes lengthily.
Chuuya tilts his head to the side, scrutinizing Dazai. Uncomfortable from being focused under such an intense gaze, Dazai squirms in his seat, “Why are you apologizing?” Chuuya questioned.
Dazai was taken aback by Chuuya’s sudden question. Dazai had apologized because it had seemed like he had unnerved Chuuya.
“You didn’t do anything wrong, Dazai. I can assure you that,” Chuuya continued, not waiting for Dazai to reply.
“I had excused myself to think of what to tell you first. Your question had caught me guard. I wasn’t expecting you to ask of our high school years, so I had to excuse myself to recollect my thoughts. I apologize for giving you the wrong idea and upsetting you, Dazai. That was never my intentions, truly,” Chuuya continued on.
Dazai stared at Chuuya in surprise. He had never expected Chuuya to be such an emotionally driven and expressive person. He had always thought Chuuya to be a calm person since Dazai could never really pictured himself being around someone like Chuuya.
Dazai had always thought that Chuuya’s common traits of loudness and expressiveness were merely part of their childhood and that Chuuya had mellowed out as they grew up, well Chuuya had just proven him wrong and for some reason, Dazai’s heart was doing so many backflips in his chest, pounding and thumping wildly in there as a sense of gratefulness washed over him. Dazai was grateful that Chuuya never mellowed out as he grew up.
“We had always been best friends. Ever since we were kids. We were always attached at the hip, we were a pair, a match, a set. Never complete without the other. We were like that even in high school. Never away and never apart from each other. You had sleeping problems in high school because of your trauma of being bullied in middle school, which was why I had made sleepover plans. You always slept better when I was around, maybe it was because I used to always save you from the bullies,” Chuuya had that smile again on his face, Dazai noted. The same melancholically, sad, smile.
“You also stopped eating at some point, I used to make an extra bento just to bring to school for you. You loved crab, anything seafood really, but you loved crab the most. I used to make crab onigiri for you. You enjoyed them a lot. I didn’t know why and I still don’t know, but you just always loved my cooking, even when the food was slightly overcooked or burnt, you still ate it earnestly, as if I had given you food made by the gods,” Chuuya chuckled this time, he looked like he was tearing up, his eyes were wet. Chuuya’s melancholic smile had turned wobbly, he was on the verge of breaking down right then and there.
Drawing in a slow breathes, Chuuya calms himself down. He opted to calm down before he continued to tell Dazai. He picked up his cup, silently sipping the delicious black coffee as he watched Dazai process the information that he had just given him.
Dazai’s brows were furrowed as he stared intensely down into his still full cup of now cold, mocha coffee. He looked deep in thought, as if something was wrong with the story that Chuuya had told him, as if Dazai had caught onto the lies that Chuuya was spewing about how everything that had transpired between them was platonic and platonic only, nothing less and nothing more.
“My brother… Ranpo, recounted that we were romantically involved in our high school years? Did he misunderstand our friendly gestures as romantic ones instead? The sleepovers, the bento and everything else?” Dazai queries, curious and confused.
Chuuya internally sigh as he held himself back from throwing Ranpo a dirty glare over the pick-up counter.
Chuuya should have known that this was Fukuzawa’s infamous café. It was quiet and comfortable with only classic drinks served, it was all very much like Fukuzawa-san, even the old-timey furniture matched Fukuzawa-san’s taste.
When Mori and Dazai had up and left the manor, Fukuzawa and Dazai’s other siblings had also left the manor, opting to go and stay in one of Fukuzawa’s many houses. Chuuya had gone there on a few occasions, due to it being farther away from his house and the school entirely.
It was a traditionally Japanese styled manor and Chuuya had been shocked at the sight of it the first time that Chuuya had went there, in search of Dazai. Dazai’s siblings had refused to meet him every single time and Fukuzawa had always been out when Chuuya had went to visit.
Ranpo and Kunikida are Dazai’s siblings. All adopted but still, they grew up together as family and it only made sense for Dazai to request to meet up here, under the safety of his father’s café and the watchful eyes of his older brothers.
Chuuya dons on his most genuine looking assuring fake smile as he said, “It seems that Ranpo-san has mistaken our friendly gestures for those of romantic ones. I’ve only ever thought of you as a friend, Dazai, please don’t misunderstand.”
Chuuya was shocked with himself of how easily he lied with that fake smile on his face. If his Dazai had been the one on the receiving end of his fake smile, he would’ve been figured out the moment he cracked that smile, but… this wasn’t his Dazai.
As calm as Chuuya had seem telling that lie, his heart was aching so hard in his chest that it felt like he had put it into a paper shredder and then proceeded to throw it into salt, mud and sand before finally throwing it into a raging fire. Chuuya resisted the urge to clench at his chest in hopes to reduce the emotional pain somehow.
Chuuya was screaming at himself and crying, yelling, sobbing, internally. His fake reassuring smile stayed on his face the entire time as he tried to reign in all his emotions and watched as Dazai’s face remained frozen in blank confusion.
Chuuya wondered whether Dazai had seen their old romantic messages or whether he had read their old romantic little notes and letters, the romantic gifts that Chuuya had gifted him.
Chuuya feared that Dazai had found out that he was lying and was processing over the fact that Chuuya of all people had lied to him.
Ranpo, who had been observing he duo for the longest time since this certain topic of the conversation had been brought up decided to finally interrupt then for the sake of Dazai’s health.
Ranpo hopped over the counter earning himself a shocked squawk from his younger brother, Kunikida, which he ignored skillfully.
Ranpo gently places each of his hands on each of Dazai’s shoulders, which brings Dazai back to reality.
“Osamu-kun, why don’t you greet farewell to your friend for today? Remember, the doctor informed you that processing too much information right now might damage your memories and brain more,” Ranpo gently coaxed his baby brother.
Dazai nodded slowly, unsure of himself and still as confused as ever with his eyes hazed over, lost in his vast mind.
Dazai gave Chuuya a small bow as he bid him farewell, “Thank you for meeting me today, Chuuya. I hope that we can meet again some time soon in the future. I… I still have many questions to ask you, Chuuya,” and to Chuuya, Dazai’s words felt far from a farewell but more like a ‘I’ll see you again, Chuuya’.
Chuuya bows in response, “Yes, I hope we see each other again in the near future, Dazai,” he replied, and the words sounded stiff even to his own ears.
As Chuuya exited Fukuzawa-san’s café he prayed to any God that was willing to listen in his heart.
“Please don’t ever let me meet Dazai Osamu again. I am not strong enough to face him again… I fear I may crumble into a broken shamble before the man who I love that remembers me no more.”