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It was a story taking place 122 days before our protagonists, Dazai and Chuuya, separated on a certain Thursday of their twentieth age. As we had known, Kunikida-sensei and Nakahara Chuuya were the only occupants of Soseki’s House orphanage, with Dazai Osamu occasionally dropping by during college break.
Dazai had created a routine for himself when he visited—twice a month, on every other weekend.
This time too, he followed the routine.
He arrived at Friday’s dusk. Like always, Chuuya would greet him in the foyer and immediately shove him to the bath, where he would take his time soaking in warm water, letting the exhaustion of the trip melt away from his being. Once he was done—fresh, warm, and comfortable—he would find Kunikida-sensei and Chuuya in the kitchen, waiting for him to start a dinner together.
No matter how many times Dazai had gone through this routine, he would always find Chuuya’s cooking taste heavenly, especially after being deprived from it for so long. Every time, it became his favorite part of going home.
With his body clean, his stomach full, and overall satisfied, Dazai went to sleep in his bedroom which he occupied by himself.
Once his body hit the soft mattress though, he did not immediately fall into slumber. Instead, his mind ran back to the time he had shared a bunk bed with a certain redhead. They had been roommates for years before the staff gave each of them personal room—due to the decrease of the occupants, there were more vacant rooms. At that time, Dazai had felt happy to have his personal space. This night, though, he couldn’t help but miss those nights filled with hushed conversations, bedtime stories, soothing each other at the face of nightmare, and sometimes a little bit of arguments—those nights, Dazai had never felt lonely.
If Dazai remembered it correctly, the time he had gotten his own room coincided with the time he had started to accept confessions from the girls at school. It didn’t last long, though. When Chuuya was no longer rushing to save him from angry, broken-hearted girls, Dazai had pretty much stopped his dating spree. It had lost its merit.
An hour had passed and Dazai’s eyes still refused to cover themselves in dreams. The brunet started to toss around in his bed until he shouted internally in exasperation. That’s it! He climbed down his bed and stalked toward Chuuya’s room.
Dazai didn’t bother to knock. He opened the door to Chuuya’s room as gently as possible, but it still made a soft creak, that sounded as sharp as a shriek amidst the silence filled midnight. Fortunately, it didn’t wake Chuuya up.
The brunet stepped closer to the bed and stopped right next to it. He let out an amused smirk at the sight that greeted him—Chuuya was bundled up inside his blanket, until only the top of his head was visible. He then reached down to pry the blanket away from covering Chuuya’s face. He wouldn’t want his favorite person dying from asphyxiation; who would entertain and cook for Dazai if that happened?
When Chuuya's face finally came out of the blanket, he squirmed, nose scrunching in discomfort. Dazai couldn’t help but chuckle at the adorable view.
“Dazai?” Chuuya muttered sleepily—it sounded no more like a mumble.
“Yeah, it’s me,” Dazai said in a whisper.
“Can’t sleep?”
Dazai sat down on the bed and started petting the fiery strands of Chuuya’s hair. “Mm-hmm.”
“Go to sleep, dumbass. Tomorrow we have tight schedule.”
Another routine Dazai had created. On the second day of his visits, he would dedicate it to spend quality time with Chuuya. Not that Chuuya thought the same. For the auburn-haired teenager, in Dazai’s guess, it might be no more than groceries shopping or a stroll in the town. For Dazai himself, though, he liked to take an advantage of the situation.
Since they finished senior high, Dazai and Chuuya had gradually become close in different manners. Don’t be mistaken, they had always been close. But lately, their closeness included holding hands and kisses. Not even Dazai remembered how they started to change—it happened so casually and naturally like nothing had ever shifted in their dynamic at all.
It will be lonely without you, Dazai thought as he played with Chuuya’s hair.
“Hey, sing me to sleep, Chuuya?”
Chuuya clearly didn’t want to, but singing Dazai some lullaby was far better than being annoyed all night. “Hnnghh, just lay down then,” he slurred.
Dazai obeyed. He lied down on top of the blanket, next to Chuuya, and put his arm around the smaller body. As Chuuya’s comfortable snuggling his face at Dazai’s torso, bodies separated only by layers of blanket, he started humming.
Dazai closed his eyes and let the soothing melody lull him to sleep.
I will really miss you.
# # #
It was 121 days before our protagonists separated for eight years with no contact. They went out of the house at eight in the morning for a shopping trip. Chuuya actually didn’t want to go out today because Kunikida-sensei came down with flu, but Kunikida-sensei waved off the redhead's concern and forced him to go out.
“It’s your break from taking care of me,” Kunikida-sensei said. “Don’t forget to buy me the bun from the shop in front of the station, okay!”
When they went out of the room, Dazai caught the elderly giving him a thumb-up, for whatever reason. No, the truth was he understood the meaning of the gesture, but chose to ignore it. Dazai didn’t need luck in his love-life with Chuuya, or in their date.
After putting on their scarves and boots—because it was near winter—they went to the shopping district. It didn’t take much time for them to get the necessary things.
“Want some snacks before going home?” Dazai offered.
“Sure,” Chuuya answered.
They went to the town center to buy crepes. Chuuya chose matcha flavor, and Dazai chose crab flavor—Chuuya scrunched his nose in disgust at Dazai’s choice. They ate them on the edge of a water fountain.
“There is something important I want to tell you,” Dazai suddenly said. The crepes in his hands remained untouched, and for once his expression was somber. Last night, he had been filled with such anxiety precisely because of this news he wanted to convey to Chuuya.
Chuuya had eaten half of his matcha crepes at this point. “What is it?” he asked after swallowing a bite. There was worry in his tone—most people wouldn't even be able to detect it, but Dazai was not most people, he was Chuuya’s closest friend.
Dazai shut his eyes briefly and took a breath to calm his nerves. When he opened his eyes, there was determination in his gaze, a gaze that went directly to Chuuya’s.
“I got a scholarship,” he announced.
At first, there was shock at Chuuya’s face. Then it morphed into delight. “What? Isn’t that good news?” the redhead exclaimed. “For a second I was worried because you look so grim. We need to celebrate it, Dazai. Ah, why didn’t you tell me earlier? Now we gotta get grocery once more.”
Dazai kept his silence, letting Chuuya realize by himself that Dazai was not responding to any of his words. Once Chuuya did, worry came back to his expression, making the space between his delicate eyebrows crease.
“Dazai?”
“It’s a scholarship to France,” Dazai explained further. He let his eyes wander away from Chuuya—he couldn’t bear to see the betrayal that would definitely graze Chuuya’s blue eyes after Dazai delivered the news. “For next semester. It means I won’t be here for your twenty-first birthday.”
There was a slight pause where Dazai knew Chuuya was gathering his scattered wits. “A-ah… if that’s all, you don’t need to look so guilty. It’s not like you will be gone forev—”
“… or twenty-second, twenty-third, and so on,” Dazai cut Chuuya’s sentence—either Chuuya meant his words as a question or a statement, Dazai could care less to know. “I don’t have any intention to come back here after I go.”
“Eh?”
A fleck of cream from Dazai’s uneaten crepes fell and stained the pavement. “The scholarship will take care of all the expenses of my stay in France for three years—” Dazai took out a tissue from his jacket and bent down to swipe the cream off. “—until I finish all the credits I need to graduate. And I think I am going to settle there once everything’s done.”
After a significant pause—Dazai was surprised Chuuya didn’t immediately explode in anger—Chuuya opened his mouth, “When are you going?”
“In three months.”
“Why didn’t you tell me sooner?”
Dazai scoffed bitterly, still refusing to look up at Chuuya. “I don’t know. Maybe it’s just a hard decision to make, even for me.”
“Okay.”
It was Dazai’s turn to feel worried. Chuuya was not exactly a patient person, so this Chuuya who calmly took his news was worrying. More than that, Dazai’s mind speculated negatively, maybe Chuuya didn’t care about him as much as Dazai had thought. Though, it was unfair of him to think so when he was the one who, time and time again, proved himself to be the one who didn’t care.
“Chuuya?”
Dazai looked up and immediately regretted his decision. It was only Chuuya’s tone of voice that was calm. His face was brewing with such anger that Dazai imagined the fire dancing in Chuuya’s blue eyes as a raging inferno. It seemed that Dazai needed to prepare himself for a hell.
Chuuya face was contorted in his fury. Several times he opened his mouth to say something, but ended up swallowing back his words. In the end, after gritting his teeth hard enough to make a sound, Chuuya growled, “Do whatever you want, you jerk!” and threw his half-eaten crepes at Dazai. Wait, not threw. He rubbed the crepes on Dazai's face, evenly, thoroughly, and forcefully that even Dazai, who was actually prepared for such retaliation, shouted in protest.
When Dazai could finally wipe the cream off his face, or at least his eyes, Chuuya and their grocery bags had gone, leaving him alone with the murmured gossips of passersby.
# # #
Dazai went back to university without meeting Chuuya even once after his confession. When he got back from the shopping alone, with face covered in crepes’ cream, Kunikida-sensei was waiting for him with a pointed look. The elderly told him that Chuuya didn’t want to meet him—don’t worry, you still get dinner.
And it had been a week since that time. Dazai was doing his college’s assignment—because despite his appearance and general impression, Dazai was actually quite a diligent student—when his phone rang. It flashed Chuuya’s name as the caller. Dazai didn’t waste much time and picked it up immediately.
“Hey,” Dazai answered.
“Hey,” was Chuuya’s reply.
There was an awkward silence between them for a second.
“How are you?’ Chuuya asked.
Dazai chuckled. “We just met a week ago, Chuuya. I won’t be changing that much. But if you are asking about my eating habit, I can do better. My academic’s progress is as great as ever. And the preparation for my scholarship goes smoothly.”
“Do you need to intentionally say it like that?” Chuuya asked bitterly. “Don’t make it harder for me to apologize, Dazai. Listen, I'm sorry about my attitude last week. There's no reason for me to get that angry when there is nothing between us.”
The smile that Dazai let to stay on his face turned pained. Now he had made Chuuya said it. He never considered the thing between them as nothing, but it was also a fact that they never bothered to define their relationship. Were they just friend? Were they lover? Or were they friends with benefits? What was the meaning of their hand-holding and kisses?
“Hey, Chuuya,” Dazai said.
“What?”
“Want to meet up?” Before Chuuya could give him a rejection or affirmation, he continued, “I won’t be able to visit next week. There are paperworks I need to take care. If you want to apologize, and I mean really apologize, what about meeting up here? I realize you never visit me here, you know. That’s not fair. Come and see me, and I will take you around. Let’s have a date.”
Chuuya, from the other side of the phone, let Dazai hang in suspense with bated breath for two tense seconds, before he finally said, “Sure.”
# # #
Dazai picked Chuuya up at the station, 112 days before they were going to say their goodbye. From there they went to a café first to fill their hungry stomach. They spent the thirty minutes brunch focusing on their meal and avoiding their issues. Then, since Chuuya said he wanted to see Dazai’s campus ground, they went there after finishing brunch.
“So this is where you spend most of your time,” Chuuya commented when he saw the place. “It’s nice.”
“Not most of the time, just a significant amount.”
Chuuya snickered. “Same difference.”
Dazai felt pride at finally making the forlorn expression on Chuuya’s face disappear. He liked to see Chuuya being angry, or happy, but not sad. Sadness never suited Chuuya, and Dazai could never deal with the fact that he was the one who put it there.
Ever since the first time he met the redhead, Dazai had always admired Chuuya’s smile. There was strength in them. No, even that was not quite accurate actually, because Chuuya’s strength didn’t only dwell on his smile, but also in his snarl and anger. The only time his strength seemed to be non-existent was when the shorter male let sadness envelop himself.
The first time Dazai saw Chuuya cry, right after he had read the other a novel of his, there was an unexplainable urge to chase the tears and sadness away. So he had tried to make a jest, and considered it a successful move when Chuuya’s snarl reappeared.
After they looked around the campus—quite a trip, considering its size—the sky started to darken. The weather forecast this morning had said it would rain at one in the afternoon, which meant Dazai and Chuuya only had half an hour to get back to the station if they didn’t want to be drenched—Chuuya’s train would depart at two.
“Are you ready to go?” Dazai asked. “We better go now before the rain falls.”
At Chuuya’s nod, Dazai walked forward. But then he was halted when Chuuya’s hand grabbed his arm.
“Wait!” Chuuya said. “For a second thought, wait, Dazai!”
“What is it?” Dazai turned around.
“I haven’t properly apologized for what I’ve done to you.”
“It’s okay,” Dazai tried to pry Chuuya’s grip away. “I am not offended.”
Chuuya shook his head. “It’s not about that. I shouldn't have acted so bratty when I'm supposed to be happy for you.”
Dazai let out a sigh. “Chuuya,” he tried once again to pry Chuuya’s hand away. “We can talk about it later. We should go now before it rains.”
From the place where their hands touched, because Chuuya still refused to let go, Dazai could feel how Chuuya’s body tensed for a second. Then there was a tremor, followed by a hollow laugh.
“Later—,” Chuuya quoted hoarsely. “—you said. When is this later when you're not even returning? In just three months, we're not going to have that luxury, you know. That’s why, even though I am really, really, angry at you; even though I don’t want to leave Kunikida-sensei by himself; I still came here to meet you. Because we don’t have later!”
It was a good thing that the place they were at was devoid of passerby. There were only the two of them and the bamboo path that listened. But it didn’t remain long, as the first drop rainwater started to join them.
Dazai cursed. For now, it was just a drop, but the heavy downpour would certainly come before long. They wouldn’t be able to reach the station in time at this rate.
“If you really want to talk about this now,” Dazai said to Chuuya in frustration. “We better do it in a comfortable and dry place.”
He tugged his arm forcefully from Chuuya’s hold, before reaching for Chuuya’s hand. It fitted perfectly on his, and for some reason, the thought made Dazai’s chest ache. He dragged them towards the nearest hotel he knew—his dorm was ridiculously far, farther than the hotels that littered the vicinity, and maybe it was precisely because the student dorm was far that people started to build many affordable hotels around campus.
They entered the hotel, barely dodging the downpour. When Dazai went to reserve a room, the receptionist eyed Chuuya and him meaningfully. Without a doubt, the receptionist assumed them as a couple. Dazai didn’t feel any need to correct the silent assessment, since in a way, they were a couple.
“Come on, Chuuya,” Dazai whispered at his childhood friend to follow him once he got the key of their room. It was a typical, generic hotel room with a clean double bed, a wardrobe, and an adjoining bathroom.
“Do you mind if I use the bathroom first?” Dazai asked once they were inside.
Chuuya didn’t reply—the redhead hadn’t said a word since Dazai dragged him from the campus. He guessed Chuuya was, as Chuuya himself had said, still angry at him. Either way, he interpreted the silent as a yes.
Once Dazai entered the bathroom, Chuuya let out a weary sigh. He didn’t mean to lose control over his emotion like that. It was just… Dazai’s words were outrageous. How dare he!! As the one who decided to leave, Dazai didn’t have the right to say it. Because he was the one who had all the later while Chuuya had none of them.
He didn’t have the ability to limit Dazai or chase after him.
Dazai didn’t take long in the bathroom. He came out after roughly five minutes—wearing only his jeans—and fortunately, Chuuya had successfully hidden his weariness. He knew Dazai didn’t like to see him sad. He then walked into the now-vacant bathroom, not even sparing a glance at Dazai. And the moment he shut the door behind his back, the feeling came back. He rubbed his palm on his eyes to chase away that emotional fatigue and held any tears he didn’t want to spill.
Maybe a shower would help, he thought before stripping out of his clothes and stepped under the rivulet of hot water. As his body started to relax, an idea visited him. He might not able to restrain Dazai to their past, nor sought the future with him—they couldn’t be together by any means—but they still had the present. This idea would make the present last. It was a stupid idea, but one he was unable to let go. It latched on, until Chuuya was physically incapable to resist.
And so he acted on it.
Chuuya turned off the shower and stepped out of the bathroom without even a towel to hide his nudity, letting the water adorn his skin like translucent pearls. “Dazai!” he called out when he opened the bathroom’s door.
Dazai, who was in the middle of checking his phone, raised his head at the call. He raised an eyebrow amusedly at Chuuya’s lack of clothes. To be honest, internally there was also shock at seeing Chuuya’s completely naked body. It was a magnificent sight, and it’s definitely not Dazai's fault for having difficulty prying his gaze off of it.
The bewilderment seeped outside onto his expression when Chuuya stalked towards him confidently, intently, like a predator approaching its prey. The redhead reached out an arm, placed his palm on Dazai’s bare torso, and pushed the taller down onto the bed. “Just this once,” Chuuya whispered as he climbed on top of Dazai’s body, fingers sliding down to the waist of Dazai’s jeans. “Let me have you. Let me have this; our last kiss.”
Dazai couldn’t react but stared widely at Chuuya’s aggressiveness. Droplets of water fell from Chuuya’s auburn hair onto his face. If Dazai didn’t know better, he would think of them as tears. Either way, it was such a beautiful view, making him incapable to move or blink. The blue of those eyes, staring at him with smoldering heat, burned his soul intensely, ignited the heat in his own body.
It broke his heart to think this would be the only time he could have this.
Chuuya leaned his body down and put his lips on Dazai’s cheek, then whispered, “Hold me.”
That was the moment Dazai closed his eyes in painful realization, that it's not possible for him to resist against such onslaught. Really, Chuuya was his weakness. He knew embracing Chuuya now would make their farewell hurt more, but still he reached both his arms to engulf Chuuya’s smaller figure into his hold.
Their cold and damp body touched each other. Chuuya’s fingers swiftly worked on Dazai’s jeans while Dazai mouthed at Chuuya’s ear. Dazai’s hands were not idle either; they roamed around Chuuya’s skin and mapped its shape. Each caresses sparked heat, each touches electrified, and each kisses liberated their pains and feels.
Don’t leave me, the nail marks Chuuya put on Dazai’s back represented.
I will miss you, Dazai’s bite on Chuuya’s shoulder implied.
I love you, was what they didn’t say when Chuuya accepted Dazai into himself.
Each friction let the heat accumulate and build up, until it erupted with a force that sent them into blissful oblivion.
# # #
The clock struck midnight—it meant there were only 111 days left before they walked down the different paths they had chosen. The seconds were ticking away, but Chuuya and Dazai let themselves ignore everything but the present. They were still asleep in the hotel room. No blanket covered them, but they didn’t feel cold as Chuuya was cocooned between Dazai’s arms, and Dazai was still nestled inside Chuuya—feeding each other warmth.
In the morning, in the future, Chuuya would board a train to go back home. It would only be one more of their many farewells, but just like every farewell they had had, they would walk away leaving a piece of heart and crumbs of pain on their wakes.
Because at the time, they hadn’t learned yet, that while they were losing a piece of heart, they got another piece from the other in return, to complete their chipped one. They didn’t know yet, that someday they could stay together, and that their ‘goodbye’ was not meant to be forever.
At the time, they were still miserable idiots.
THE END