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It was a single flinch but that was enough to urge him out of sleep. Dazai rolled over and looked to the dark ceiling with bleary eyes. He could lie there like that for the rest of the night convincing his eyes there was no ceiling, just an endless void until he felt like he was falling, or he could turn to watch his lover with soft eyes until the sun came up. Sometimes when he did this Kunikida would wake up, long eyelashes on eyes fluttering open, just as golden as the morning light coming through the window. Kunikida might push his face into his pillow and grunt in annoyance or offer up a small sleepy smile with eyes closing once again. On the rare occasion long fingers, perfect to play piano with Dazai often teased him, might reach up and run through his lover’s dark and messy bed head.
“How long have you been awake?” He might question, voice still rough from sleep.
“Long enough to fall out of love and in love with you again.” Dazai would often reply, enjoying the red blush that would sneak up on Kunikida’s face.
This night would be different from that. This night would not be as good or as soft as those ideal scenarios. There was another flinch from the other side of the bed and a whimper of pain. Dazai was pulled out of morning light and plunged back into the darkest of nights with no moon to light the way. He didn’t feel like falling anymore. Sitting up and turning to look at his partner he saw Kunikida. Curled in on himself, back tense, and face scrunched in pain. Another tremor ran through him and a small strangled cry escaped his lips.
Dazai stared.
A nightmare. Dazai had his fair share of those and so was no stranger to the realities of the unreal but this was Kunikida . Kunikida who had his mind clouded by his ideals but still somehow kept his feet on the ground. A man unparalleled in naivety and determination. A man who had seen people die when he felt he should have protected them and never let himself forget about any one of them. He remembered after Sasaki died, the countless hours he spent trying to force himself to work and forget. He remembered the breakdowns and the crying and how close he had been to calling Yosano to help. He had never wanted to see him like that again.
“Doppo,” he whispered cautiously, gently, almost with fragility, “it's just a dream.”
He reached out a hand, clumsy with tiredness and put it on his partner's back. Kunikida jolted away from the touch with shocking violence. Dazai tensed instantly and felt himself freeze up. Kunikida curled further into himself and his breathing came heavy, loud, and ragged. Dazai could see his eyes open.
He was awake.
“Are you…. Are you hearing me? Where are you at head-space wise?”
There was a nod. Still, the sound of Kunikida's heavy breaths were no comfort.
“Look at me. Look at me, Doppo.”
After some coaxing and comforting touches Kunikida shifted in their bed and turned to look at him. When he did a tear fell from his eye and ran down the side of his face. Shaking fingers reached up to trace where it fell, Kunikida seemed almost surprised at the appearance of the tear. Dazai took his partner's hand and held it tightly as though he could will the shaking to stop. He lay down on his side so they were both facing each other and pressed his forehead against Kunikida's. He wanted to press kisses to his face and matted hair and whisper sweet nothings until they both fell back to sleep, but Dazai knew. He knew nightmares like this and no amount of soft whispers and delicate words could drag the terror from you once its claws had gripped that tight.
“Talk to me about it. Who was there?” he asked instead. He could feel Kunikida beneath him trying to shift away and turn back on his side but Dazai kept him in place.
“It was a dream Dazai, it doesn't matter. It...it wasn't important.” It did matter. It really fucking did matter because it had caused Kunikida's voice that was usually so strong to become small and childlike. He was watching the man he knew and loved retreat into himself and try to bury it and that wasn't him. That wasn't Kunikida.
Dazai's hands clenched tightly around the bed sheets in frustration but he didn't let it seep into his tone, “If it doesn't matter then it shouldn't trouble you to tell me about it.”
Kunikida’s eyes flashed with something bright- anger? Defiance? No matter. This is how they functioned. Frustratingly compatible as Yosano had once told him. Dazai could always drag the truthout of Kunikida and Kunikida could always spot the lies Dazai told.
“Who was it? Who were you dreaming of?”
It could be anyone, those detectives, Rokuzou, Sasaki- san , the little girl in the tunnel, sometimes he had heard Kunikida express guilt over even Aya for putting her so close to death.
“It was you.” he heard the weak willed voice utter. “You were there with them, covered in blood and screaming, you didn't want to die.”
Dazai let out a nervous chuckle, “Well that definitely sounds fake then. Nothing to worry about.”
Suddenly he felt Kunikida's hands struggle against him and finally shove him away. His comment had made the man find his strength it seemed.
“You were dead Dazai. Your were dead and covered in blood and my hands were covered in it too.” Every word Kunikida spat out grew louder until he was yelling, “and everyone I have ever killed was there too and they couldn't keep their hands off of you. They were taking you away from me and you didn't want to leave!”
“Calm down Kunikida, there's nothing to worry about, I'm here now aren't I?” Dazai said smoothly, trying to soothe the agitated man without his touches. Kunikida was silent for a moment. Sitting hunched over in the dark with visible tremors still wracking his form. His long hair was knotted and sweat that had beaded on his forehead was now cold and only adding to his feverish shivering.
Finally he spoke after deliberation. “You're here but for how long?”
“Huh?”
“You said to not want to die was out of character for you. So you still want to die?”
Dazai felt for whatever reason the unmistakable feelings of anger take root deep inside him. “I don't want to have this conversation at this time of the morning.” Came his cold response.
“Okay fine so we won’t talk.” Came the equally cold reply.
Dazai felt his heart skip. He knew these arguments. He knew how they went and he hated them. He hated them because he knew that he was the cause of them always. The awkward silence that was only disturbed by the shifting of skin on sheets grew heavier and louder with every passing second. When it got like this he had the unmistakable need to scream until his voice was raw build up in his chest, but instead he kept his composure and spoke.
“Love can’t fix what I am, Kunikida. You know this-we’ve talked about it a million times. My depression cannot be cured with love, I can be helped and supported, but not completely fixed. It is like your anxiety. So I am….sorry for letting you down but that’s something you’ve just got to accept.”
Kunikida still had his back turned to him but Dazai saw his head turn to press his face down into his pillow. Dazai wasn’t going to give up on his stubborn partner.
“Can you accept that Kunikida? Or will you just be like all the others?”
He was guilting him and he knew it. Outside the window some light was starting to filter through the darkness of early morning. Red tones gave the blinds an interesting hue. An old western rhyme came to mind for whatever reason,
‘Red sky at night,
Sailor’s delight.
Red sky in morning…’’
Something. He couldn’t remember. Before he could berate himself for forgetting such a thing he was pulled from his reverie by the mumbled words of his partner.
“Sorry? What was that?”
Kunikida shifted onto his front and turned his head to face him, still though refusing to look him in the eye. “I said,” he cleared his throat. His voiced almost cracked repeating the words, “I know. I just never want to have to see you die.”
Dazai lay down again facing his lover. He lightly placed a hand on Kunikida’s cheek. His thumb brushed back and forth on his soft skin mindlessly. After giving it a second’s thought he leaned in and brushed his lips across the other’s. Pulling back he began to whisper all the jumbled thoughts that came to mind,
“I hope you never see it either. Maybe I’ll go far far away and die peacefully and painlessly and you’ll never find me. Maybe it will be when we’re old and it’s time. Maybe it will be tomorrow. Maybe you could join me. Maybe we could-”
He was silenced by solid arms reaching around him and holding fast. They were warm and strong and made the pain in his gut from fear of losing everything that mattered stay at bay. Kunikida whispered with his shaky voice into his ear the perfect solution to all of his ramblings.
“Maybe we could just stay here like this and not think about tomorrow or yesterday.”
Dazai said nothing but pushed his head into the broad man’s chest. It occurred to him that these days of peace were to end soon. A storm was coming after all.
‘Red sky in morning,
Sailors take warning.’