Chapter Text
PREVIOUSLY:
He had never wanted to hurt Chuuya yet, he did it all the same. Anything he wants is always lost the moment he obtains it, wasn’t it better if he stayed away from Chuuya to avoid hurting him anymore? Chuuya was a much better person than he’ll ever be; did he even deserve to help others when he was the cause of grief for Chuuya? Maybe he really should just die so that he could stop hurting him? Yes, he should-
DIE.
/̴̧̺̝̗̔̿͋̂̑͐̂͂̇̕/̴͎̦̯̝͋̌̎̔͆́̄̐̆̚/̸̢̡͉͙̭̙̟̻͚͠/̷̢̛̟̝̟̹͒͋͂̊͋̓͛̕/̶̢̲̪̱͉̈̆̕͝/̵̡̳͖͈͍̘͛͌̓̐ͅ/̴̺̥̬̞̞̺̗͊̊͋̐̇̔͆̽̂̄/̷͇̝̬̺͈̪̯̝̝̎̓̒̈̇̓DIEDIEDIEDIEDI̴͓̗̤̜̻̱̭̮̣̐͗̄̽̿̌̃͝ͅEDIED I̴͓̗̤̜̻̱̭̮̣̐͗̄̽̿̌̃͝ͅÈ̶̫̩͕̈̈́͜DIEDIEDI̴͓̗̤̜̻̱̭̮̣̐͗̄̽̿̌̃͝ͅÈ̶̫̩͕̈̈́͜D̸̨̛̲͓̖̦̑̎̍̈̎̆͂̽̈́I̵̠̩͔̲͋͗͛̉̈́͋̚͝Ẽ̷̼͚͐̈́̈́Ḑ̵̛͔̣̻̣̜̥̓I̷̟͍̹̜͇̬̾̒̓̔̈̐͋E̷͍͔͎̯̒͋̈͋̐̆͋̕͘Ḯ̵̡̧͎̺͙͔̙͚̞̈́͒̀̅D̴͎͈̘̜̩̗͚͕̯̍͋̂̽̀͠͠͝I̷̛̯̅̑̇̍͝E̶̖̖̯̝̪͚̝̖͚̒̑̃͜͠ `̸̺̩̣̝̲̼̬͓̪͋͑̚͜`̶̗̤͚͉̲̹͋̓̏̃̄͊͜`̷̨̧͈̬̭̟̿̐̽͛̈́͜`̵̹͔̘̹̹͐̏̀̔͘`̸̺̩̣̝̲̼̬͓̪͋͑̚͜`̶̗̤͚͉̲̹͋̓̏̃̄͊͜`̷̨̧͈̬̭̟̿̐̽͛̈́͜`̵̹͔̘̹̹͐̏̀̔͘`̸̺̩̣̝̲̼͋͑̚͜`̶̗̤͚͉̲̹͋̓̏̃̄͊͜`̷̨̧͈̬̭̟̿̐̽͛̈́͜`̵̹͔̘̹̹͐̏̀̔͘
Ḋ̶̖̻̦̑̑İ̴̛̭̪̟̮̈́͑̂̄̓̃̂͜ͅE̸̢̧͉̯͖̖͎̭̥̣͐̊͒͒Ď̸͚̓̆̂̍͋̌̍̚͠Į̵̙̲̭̘̹̜̇̒̽̆̚E̴̯̯̠̭̣̱͖͎͜͝D̴̩͒͒̋̊̉̑̍̉̏́Ḭ̵̡̡͉͇̙͖̹̝̍͋̓͆̑̍E̵̡̜̖͉̜̣̹͉͘͜D̴̢̮͙̬̗̑͊̐̋I̸̢̛̹̖͚͔̤͈̊ͅÉ̸̡̛̫̙̗̜̍̉͝D̵̨̾̈́I̴̛͈̋̓̓͋̒̈́̈͆E̷̩̝̦̩̞͕̫̼̓̽̑̈͂̑͠ͅD̴̲̗̲̬͍͉͈̂̽̅̊̀͋́̕͝͝ͅͅI̷͇̞̯̖͆͌̚Ę̷̨̱̗̗̹̗̺̠̈́̍̏D̵̡̝̠̙͖̖̜͑̐͐͜͜͝I̷̡̡̲̯͚̺͚͇̦̅Ę̵̩̝͇̤̳͇̫̪̪̍Ḏ̵̣̪̻̼̳͖̗̉̾͊͊́͐ͅI̸̛̞̼̙̜̹͓̺̮̣̝̐͐̑̊Ȩ̵̭̹̹̘͓̳͆̈́̌D̸̩͇̱̯̝̠̽͌͒͑͠I̷̲̋̔͋̓̋̎̅E̵̛̠̿̾D̷̻͚̜̠͈̈̑̎͘͜I̷̢͔̻̺͓̣ͅȄ̶̼̹̝̲̬̙͔̦̘͆͆̅̒ͅD̶̥̔́͑İ̶̡̡̦̠̞̜̠̜͖̎͌͒̈́̈́E̶̟̤̤͙̽̓́̄̋̉̔̌̾̓D̸̛͈̩̺̳̯̺̪̼͔͛̍͒͋͛̓͌̏̏͜Ȋ̴̻̪͒̀͐̆͊͜͠Ē̶̖̗̹̟̟̹̤̏̓̾̕͠͝D̸̛̻͈̻̙͌͌̾͂̆͆Ḯ̴̛̹͇͆̌̈̅͋͋͝͝Ë̷̻̜̩́̉̈́͠D̷͚̖́̈̿̅Į̷̥͇͈͛̋̓̿Ě̸͇͎̫̠͕͖͔̬͚́̍Ḑ̶͈͍̺͕̳̖̙̓̈͜͝ͅI̵̬̳͗̆̕̕Ë̶͎̱́́̄̃D̸̨̙̖͉̓͐I̶̼͓̜̖͎̯͚̭̤̍̓͜Ḙ̶̺̄̉͊͛̂̍͘D̵͍̱̬̩̫̯̭̑̅͌͗̔͝Ï̶̧̜̻̳̗̂͜Ë̷̹́̑̚D̵̨̗̭͚̫̝͎̭̄͒̀̎͐͂͝I̶̬̬̎͗͛̏͝E̵̠͒̈́̕Ď̴̨̦̹̆̅̒I̸̲̙̦̣̔ͅE̸̛͉͆͋͑͊̈́̈́/̴̧̺̝̗̔̿͋̂̑͐̂͂̇̕/̴͎̦̯̝͋̌̎̔͆́̄̐̆̚/̸̢̡͉͙̭̙̟̻͚͠/̷̢̛̟̝̟̹͒͋͂̊͋̓͛̕/̶̢̲̪̱͉̈̆̕͝/̵̡̳͖͈͍̘͛͌̓̐ͅ/̴̺̥̬̞̞̺̗͊̊͋̐̇̔͆̽̂̄/̷͇̝̬̺͈̪̯̝̝̎̓̒̈̇̓
PRESENT:
“-----zai?Dazai?! DAZAI!” Chuuya’s practically hauling Dazai back and forth on the spot before he finally manages to snap the other out of his trance-like-state. He suppressed a shiver as a hopeless chasm opened up before him and if he was honest with himself; it’s honestly one of the most frightening things he’s seen in his life. It cleaved his soul to have Dazai stare back at him with such hollow and at the same time the most sorrowful eyes he’s ever seen him had. It was as though the sins of his past had come back to haunt him, except this time, it was Chuuya who caused it.
It was Chuuya’s fault. He barely held back a whimper of distress at the thought.
This wasn’t what he wanted… He only… He only wanted to be honest with his feelings for once; he just didn’t any more deceit or untold truths between them. Still, he forces himself to swallow down his emotions, trying to ignore his burning eyes, this was no time for self-pity, he thought to himself. No, he’s Nakahara Chuuya, he’s powered through worse, he-they will get through this.
Nevertheless, Chuuya was very worried as he took in the other’s trembling form, he didn’t think his words would have affected the other so much. He cursed himself for his brusque way of communicating as he scrambled for a way to fix the situation. “Hey…hey, what are you thinking about?” he gently asks, almost recoiling like acid burnt his skin when Dazai visibly flinched when he laid a hand on the other’s cheek. He hesitated for a moment, whether to move away but the decision was made for him when Dazai leaned slightly into his palm as if seeking comfort.
“I want to die,” Dazai responses listlessly, with a stoic face but his eyes... His eyes held so much hopelessness. At that moment, he would have looked exactly like the Demon Prodigy he used to be except, he was shaking with emotions.
Chuuya shakily sucked in a breath, his mind turning his words over rapidly as he tried to identify which part of what he said had triggered this onslaught. There couldn’t have been any other reason; he knew it had to be something he’d said. Dazai had just told him that he wasn’t actively looking for a way to die, and now he was telling him the exact opposite? No, it was definitely Chuuya’s fault.
He slowly raised his other hand to the other’s head, watching his reaction as he laid a hand in his hair. When the other didn’t react, he slowly started stroking his head, pushing Dazai’s hair away from his face so that Chuuya could see his face more clearly, “Why? Didn’t you just tell me that you weren’t thinking about it?” He internally thanks whatever god he knew that his voice came out as gently as he’d hope it would.
“I changed my mind,” was the simple response. He said nothing else as Chuuya felt the silence crawl up his body like a thousand tiny hairy spiders, fear making him want to hold his heart in his hand so that he could forcibly slow it down. He opened his mouth before closing it, repeating the process a few times, discarding what he wanted to say each time he was about to say it.
“…Why, was it something I said?” Chuuya hesitantly settles on, still using a gentle tone, not knowing what else to say. Painstakingly slow to react, Dazai finally reached his hands up so that he could wrap them around Chuuya’s, trembling hands holding them in place, “No, it’s not Chuuya’s fault.”
“It’s my fault.” The quivering gets worse, clutching onto Chuuya’s tightly -not enough to hurt, as if afraid he would pull back if they did, but it was enough to make Chuuya want to swallow his knife collection- Dazai’s face contorts into one of pure agony and despair, as a thought seems to occur to him, “it’s my fault, and it’s always been. Everything is destroyed the moment I learn to want it, everything I want is blighted the moment I touch it,”
He was inconsolable as he barely manages to heave his next words out as a sob tore through his throat, even as no tears fell, “what should I do Chuuya? I’ve lost even you, I’ve lost everything. If I have nothing when I’m alive, at least I might have peace if I die, right?”
Chuuya folds Dazai into his embrace, unable to handle that lost and desperate call for help in Dazai’s eyes any more than he could control himself from cradling Dazai close to his chest to offer whatever meagre comfort he could think of. He runs a hand through Dazai’s hair and rubs awkwardly at his back. A few treacherous tears escape his own eyes even as he grits his teeth hard enough to crack them.
“Hush, you didn’t do anything wrong,” he pauses to re-think his words, these were uncharted waters for the both of them -for Dazai to be strip of all his layers; to be bare-boned in the face of judgment, ready to be persecuted- He felt repulsed and disgust towards for himself, as for a moment, a part that was still every bit the Mafioso and embodiment of Corruption felt justified at Dazai’s sufferings. It served him right, after the abuse he suffered from all of Dazai’s schemes and flippant disregard of Chuuya –forsaking him to an endlessly tiring fate that he barely escape by the skin of his teeth as the other waltzed out of that life and moved on for greener pastures without a thought for Chuuya as though he was nothing; worthless in his eyes.
Those thoughts and feelings were promptly put under lock and key at the back of his mind as Chuuya prioritised the much larger part of him that was unsettled and concerned for Dazai. It was not quick enough though, as Chuuya felt the immense guilt for having even thought for a second that Dazai deserved this level of despair- nobody did-
He tightens his hold, as he carefully tried to get his thoughts across, not knowing if it’ll be right thing to say, baring himself out like so, but willing to take the risk, “you didn’t do anything wrong now and you’ve been trying to be better for the last five years now since you’ve left the Mafia,” he felt Dazai tense in his arms, he, in turn, tried to rub his back soothingly, “I don’t know what you’ve done for most of it, but as for me, I think you’ve already done a lot to atone for the crimes that you did commit, it’s better than what others have done, it’s way better than what I’ve never considered doing.”
Dazai had lifted his head up to gaze at him as he spoke, flickers of life appearing in his eyes every so often, as he stared in wide eye disbelief at the words spoken, “you think I’ve…that I’m doing good?” his question almost unheard over the show still playing in the background, as if he was afraid Chuuya would retract everything if he inquired further.
Chuuya shrugged, trying to appear nonchalant, “have I ever lied to make you feel better?” Dazai grows still to muse it over for a moment before shaking his head. Chuuya smiles crookedly at the wonder in Dazai’s eyes, “there’s your answer.”
Dazai couldn’t believe it, didn’t want to believe it as much he wanted to believe, his emotions contradicting each other. Chuuya, Chuuya of all people, thought that he had become a better person. That he might have been able to uphold Odasaku’s dying will. It heartened Dazai as much as it frightened him to hear those from Chuuya. But, he was nasty to Chuuya, had intentionally gone out of his way to antagonise the other many times. How could Chuuya believe in Dazai so much? How could Chuuya think he’d become a better person when he should have been downright detestable?
“No, you can’t possibly believe that,” he refuted weakly, even though Chuuya assured him otherwise, he just couldn’t understand how Chuuya who’d been witness to the darkness and sins he’d committed be able to believe he’d become a good person. All of a sudden, Dazai had the appalling thought of what if, what if he somehow managed to manipulate Chuuya into thinking that? He felt chilled to the bones at influencing honest, loyal Chuuya in such a way; he never wanted him to believe he was something he was not.
He spoke quickly, analysing out loud, “you don’t think that. There’s no way you would think so on your own. I must have somehow done something to make you conceive such an idea -that’s right, Chuuya is an idiot, you’re always so gullible, I’ve deluded you-“ he was interrupted from his train of thought as a harsh slap made him fall back onto Chuuya. Stunned, he raised his head slowly to look at Chuuya’s fuming face. The other had tried to keep silent as he listened but the more he did, the angrier he got, he shouldn’t have in this delicate situation, but he couldn’t help it; the other’s words made him so mad, even now he was trying to act like he was superior when he was not.
“Don’t you dare,” Chuuya hisses slowly, hoping it’ll somehow be able to stick in that thick-head that way, “tell me what I think. You might be a manipulative asshole, but my thoughts are my own. I can’t make you believe my words if you don’t want to, but don’t twist my words into something they’re not. I told you before, and I’ll say it again; it hurt when you betrayed the Mafia-when you betrayed me- without so much a word or look back, but I don’t blame you for leaving, I haven’t for a long time.” He thumbed over the cheek that he’d slapped slowly, as the Mackerel remained bewildered.
“I saw what being in the Mafia was doing to you and I’ve seen how you looked in the ADA; I’m not naïve or so horrible as to think that wasn’t the best decision you could’ve made for yourself. I just… wished that I could’ve been the one you’d turn to and that things didn’t end the way it did.” Chuuya relaxed his arms, not pulling back but letting Dazai pull away if he desired. He had dropped several bombs on the other, he knew the other well enough to know he might need some space and time to sort out his thoughts and feelings.
It seemed this evening’s surprises weren’t over yet, Dazai remained silent for a long while, before moving to snuggle against his neck. Chuuya allowed him to intertwine their fingers together as Dazai gathered his thoughts. The silence stretched on, not as awkward as before but neither comfortable as well. He was surprised when the other finally spoke up.
“Chibi is definitely the weirdest; being able to have such a perceptive… do you know how Mori got the Special Ability Permit for the Port Mafia?” his question was muffled into the side of Chuuya’s neck, an unreadable expression on his face even if the other couldn’t see it.
“What?” Chuuya replies in confusion, thrown by the unexpected question, but Dazai remains silent, waiting for Chuuya to answer the question. Chuuya had to think back; even then he only vaguely knew the details, as he had been on an overseas undercover mission during that time. The aftermath though, he remembers vividly.
“I heard that Mori got it after helping the Special Ability Department defeat an organisation… I don’t remember the name and…” Chuuya pauses, looking down at Dazai’s head warily, before hesitantly continuing, “And that Oda died in the crossfire while you defected soon after.” Technically, others died during that incident as well, but that was the only death that he could think really mattered to Dazai.
“Mimic,” Chuuya blinks, uncomprehending. Dazai continues speaking, without pause for Chuuya to process the sudden deluge of information -the truth brought to light, “the organisation was called Mimic. Mori had made a deal with the Special Ability Department. He would eliminate them in return for the Permit; it was his schemes that lead to the simultaneous death of Mimic’s leader Andre Gide and Odasaku… he killed the orphans in his care causing him to go on a suicide mission, everything went according to Mori’s plan, except-” Dazai pauses, while Chuuya remains frozen in shock.
“Except, he couldn’t have predicted Odasaku’s parting words to me.” Dazai’s gaze burnt as lifted his head to look him in the eyes, slowly the pieces came together in his mind and dread flooded his veins as understanding dawned on him.
“And what was that?” he asks softly with bated breath.
“He told me that I’ll never find my reason to live, that I would never fill the hole in me, and that if I didn’t care which side I was on, I should go to the side that saves,” he finishes, and even if he knows he didn’t deserve touching the precious human before him, Dazai couldn’t keep his hands to himself as he reaches out his hand to caress the other’s face. Even dead inside as he was, he couldn’t help but admire the magnificent emotions causing blues to flash like lightning in his eyes.
Oh.
Oh.
Well, shit.
In a flash, everything had become crystal clear to Chuuya. Cold fury coursed through him, he just knew For the Tainted Sorrow would have activated if it wasn’t for the contact with Dazai. He had so much he wanted to say, so many things were wrong with what Dazai told him. He sucked in a breath, trying to gain some of his composure, chanting a mantra to himself: it’s over, it’s over now, that’s all in the past.
But, there was one thing that wasn’t; that he knew was still weighing the emotionally challenged human in his arms down. This, he would not compromise; he would make the other believe him even if he had to beat it into him. Chuuya’s hand shot up, without conscious thought to take a firm hold the side of Dazai’s neck, making sure he was looking him in the eyes. “Bullshit, Oda was fucking wrong.” A storm brewed, swallowing his irises, making them look like twin typhoons, snarling in a way that warned of impending danger.
Dazai was surprised by the other’s unexpected reaction before he could respond to instinctually defend Odasaku, Chuuya cut him off. “It was unfortunate that he and those orphans were used in Mori’s plot, he was an alright guy the few times I met him, but he had no right. Absolutely no right, to say that you would never find your reason to live,” Dazai was blown away by the utter conviction radiating from Chuuya as he vehemently argues, “you didn’t find it in the Mafia, but that didn’t mean that you couldn’t or didn’t find it after. What gave him the authority to say that? He wasn’t your partner on missions; he wasn’t there during all those interrogations; he wasn’t the one that descended further with you with every kill count, and I’m sorry that he had to die like that, but he sure as hell didn’t see how much more alive and content you became doing good.”
As Dazai remained still, brain short-circuiting a record-breaking number of times in such a short amount of time, Chuuya breathed in deeply, a few stray tears escaping again at the deep frustration, sadness, anger and whatever else emotions he couldn’t identify. He couldn’t remember the last time -if ever- he was so sincere with anyone, even with himself. But he would do it if it’s what Dazai needs, even if he had to air out everything left unsaid in the past between them –he didn’t know if there would be another chance, he didn’t know if he’d have the courage.
“Maybe,” allowing the admission to float between them, “maybe, he could see something different as a bystander, but for me, I’ve long thought that you’ve already found a reason –I’ve no doubt that you’d already been dead long ago if you didn’t.” Chuuya couldn’t control the bitterness that seeps through, “but don’t just... believe everything he said as if it’s facts just because you loved him, alright?”
Chuuya sat up straighter against the couch, leaning over to take hold of the controller so he could shut down the program. He easily pushed Dazai off him as he remained too stunned and could only go along with the flow. He moved to the kitchen to get himself a glass of water to distract himself, trying not to glance back at the other still on the couch. Gulping down the water, he released a shaky sigh now that his back was turned to the other.
Meanwhile, half-bent on the couch, Dazai didn’t know what to make of anything. He stared at his palm opening and closing repeatedly against the couch, as they tried to grasp something that wasn’t there. He didn’t know what to think. Chuuya had just broken in, questioned and made him question every firm belief he had. He had uprooted everything he thought was set in stone and deposited aspects he’d never considered right in his face as if it was the easiest thing in the world (he knew it was not).
Forget about what he was supposed to do, what was he even supposed to believe now?
The part of him that has always regarded Odasaku’s opinion above many others was incensed that Chuuya was invalidating it and wanted to contend him. How could Chuuya who didn’t know Odasaku as he did, say that he was wrong? How could he, when you didn’t want them to spend time together, his mind supplied. He bit his lips, wiping his sweaty palms against the couch, there was no denying that he feared the both of them getting along well enough that they’ll realise his shortcomings and he’ll lose both of them.
His mind was a war zone as ideals battled each other –he couldn’t, didn’t want to, didn’t deserve to; he wished to, he wanted to, he begged himself to believe- If it was anyone else, he might have put a bullet in their head for trying to challenge words that he look up to as law; but this was Chuuya. Chuuya didn’t know it since Dazai has never mentioned anything of sorts to him however Dazai had always considered Chuuya in a league of his own. His words held weight, heavy as the gravitational force he crushed his enemies with; he couldn’t dismiss them whether he wanted to or not.
There was also that, it reluctantly took root as Chuuya first tried to taper his desire for death. The desire was still there, regardless of how small it is now compared to before –he’s not sure if it’ll ever go away- But this, it’s root grew and wrapped around his heart –undeserved, shameful but oh, so desired-
Hope .
Now more than ever, he longs for Chuuya’s words to be true. His need to believe they were true was overwhelming in every way, as reassuring as the feeling of the fact that Chuuya would defend him in such a way, that he believed Dazai could be more, is so much more. Hesitant as he was, wanting to protect himself, Dazai couldn’t help but ponder whether his initial thought that he’d lost Chuuya was true. Carefully, Dazai re-evaluates his thoughts: Chuuya said he wanted him here, he confessed that he wanted Dazai in the past… would he have said all those things if he didn’t want to be with him anymore?
He peeked at Chuuya over the back of the couch, cutting vegetables as he silently prepared dinner. The answer is obvious even without deliberation, yes, Chuuya would. He was just a better person like that; honest and consistent, willing to protect others even it coated him in blood and damage. Yet, the logical part of him rationalised that Chuuya wouldn’t have gone that far for someone that he hated. Dazai clenched his teeth in frustration for himself, hating the knock off-balance feeling of not knowing which move gave the best outcome. The only thing clear to him was his own yearning to have Chuuya, the situation only making it more indisputable.
Observing Chuuya’s tense form from his position, obviously still worried over the conversation, he felt familiar fondness bubble up even in the midst of his emotional turmoil. For now, his desire to die was minuscule in the face of Chuuya’s all-consuming presence. Dying or keeping silent was not an option; it had been a gamble for Chuuya to lay everything out, it wouldn’t do to be the coward now. Besides, there was something that he had to correct. Shaky determination had him pulling himself together, there’s no calculation in his next actions, just a selfish man’s desperate attempt to seize the greatest treasure, now that he’s been exposed to hope and a glimpse of an opportunity.
Dazai moved his limps, as if they were not his own, feeling disconnected as nerves made his fingers tingle. “Chuuya,” the other looked over his shoulder from the vegetables he was slicing, Dazai didn’t move closer from the opposite of the kitchen island, “I-no…thank you,” he didn’t avert his eyes at Chuuya’s surprise, only continuing when he nodded in acknowledgment.
“Your words meant a lot,” gratitude palpable in his voice, “I can’t say that I believe that I’m the person in your mind or that those words made my desire to die disappear,” Chuuya remains silent as Dazai approached him, already knowing that it wouldn’t be so easy to change Dazai’s mind, yet it didn’t lessen the disappointment. “But, it did make me want to live,” the red-head whipped around in shock, jaw-dropping slightly at the admission.
Dazai was now within touching range, he didn’t move any closer even as he craved to feel the other’s warmth again so close to him. He had Chuuya’s full attention, knife down and facing him, “I want to go visit many other places with Chuuya, I want to find what Chuuya’s able to see that I can’t because Chuuya does know me,” he chuckles, “you might know better than I know myself, and also… I didn’t love Odasaku, the one I wanted has always been you.” He tried to make his confession as sincere as possible lest Chuuya thought he was joking.
What?
“Huh?” was the summary of Chuuya’s thoughts. Never had he considered that Dazai might return his feelings, convinced as he was that the other would remain devoted to his feelings for Oda, even in his death. He’s currently told now that it wasn’t the case?? Well, consider him confused as fuck. “You…like me?” he timidly asked, unsure if he misunderstood. He was stupefied when Dazai confirmed it.
“Ever since our Mafia days,” Dazai shoots him a wry smile, “I still do. I want you to be mine, I didn’t know how much until today, but I don’t expect anything from you. I know I missed my opportunity when I left but I just want you to know… I’m sorry that I hurt you, back then I only cared about myself and even then, I didn’t care much. But it was never my intention to hurt you, I betrayed the Mafia, but the thought of betraying you never crossed my mind.”
He lifts a hand to caress that beautiful face, letting it slip into soft curls as he offered his heart up to Chuuya, decision his to make, “I can’t show you because I don’t know how I’ve changed. But, I want to be with Chuuya more than anything else, I won’t leave you if you’ll still have me. Whatever makes you happy,” reminding Chuuya of the promise he made at the beach.
Tears welled up in Chuuya’s eyes; he cursed Dazai internally for making him cry like a little girl as he pulled him in for a hug, hiding face-to-chest while Dazai’s arm held him close. He listened to the soothing sound of Dazai’s heartbeat (alive, it told him), the most convinced he’s ever been that Dazai might stay.
“You make me happy,” Chuuya says softly, chin propped against Dazai’s chest and gazing up at him. Dazai’s eyes widen, brain shuttering to a stop, he was barely able to shutter out, “I-I make you happy?”
Chuuya nods in affirmation, stroking a hand through Dazai’s hair, “yeah, you do,” and he would reassure him every time he doubts it.
“W-why?”
He shrugs, “for many reasons. First, you came after me; you made me have more fun than I’ll have if I had been on my own. You trusted me enough to let me know all that,” he doesn’t stop the happy smile as he circles his arm around Dazai’s neck, “you kept your promise. You want me, you’ll stay.” He could keep going, but he thought that was enough for now as he let himself tentatively admit that from the look on Dazai’s face, he might actually believe Chuuya hung the moon and stars in the sky.
“You make me happy, you stupid mummy,” he repeats, just in case.
For a moment, Dazai legitimately wonders if someone so amazing could exist. This one-of-a-kind man, where would he have been if he’d never met him? If nothing else, he’s glad that fate brought them together time and time again. His heart swells, as he leans their foreheads together, “I want to kiss you,” a whisper –a request.
“Then what are you waiting for?” granted permission for a taste of sweet lips.
Their first kiss was chaste, merely a brush of lips. A probe at boundaries previously held in place, the subsequent ones were to raze down those boundaries.
“Kiss me again,” lips grazed as that bewitching voice beseech. He was a willing casualty to it, another peck light as a butterfly’s fluttering wings. In that space, everything finally felt like it fell into place, the world was right and the darkness in him was gone. There was only Chuuya as he granted every soft demand of “Again,” and “Again” and “Again.”
An eternity passed before they pulled away enough for Dazai to utter with firm resolve, “I want you to be mine.” An oath was pledged, “I’ll be yours if you’ll be mine.” A vow was returned with a seal of lips, “I’ve always been yours.” He would see that the world burns before he let anything come between them again. He would dedicate his life safeguard this as he took another firm kiss from Chuuya.
The blinding smile he received saved a lost boy from early death and gave a broken man something to look forward to, “then I’m yours. We’re stuck together for real now, no more secrets, alright?” Dazai was barely able to nod before Chuuya was on him again, unable to get enough now that Dazai was in his clutches.
“Mine” Dazai whispers reverently, still not believing his luck. It causes the other to giggle slightly, happy to finally hear the words he wanted to hear for the longest time, an answering brush of lips as Chuuya declares “mine,” sealing their lips together in a slow dance; becoming more and more desperate as they both validate promises and feelings with kisses.
“Yours,” Dazai says hoarsely from the emotions still running high. Cupping his cheeks, Chuuya returns the promise wholeheartedly, “Yours,” intertwining his fingers with Dazai’s, he proclaims, “Chuuya and Dazai,”
Dazai was sure his cheeks would hurt tomorrow from how far his smile stretched across his face as he returns the vow with giddiness, “Dazai and Chuuya.”
If this was what living meant, Dazai thinks that he could learn to look forward to it every day.