Chapter Text
Callous hands trace over the brim. Retreating to start anew before taking a different approach with each digit feeling every single emotion put into making this hat. Someone had slaved away, knowing elbow grease had been used just to make a single customer happy with their purchase.
You could tell it was only one of a kind as it had been handcrafted. No one can make the same thing twice. The first finished product is always special and can't be duplicated to matter what. You may follow instructions or a recipe to a T but all 100 cookies will not all not be the same. All with different perimeters and circumstances ; some off by a few inches, some more chocolate chips then others, some golden more then others.
32 hours post-corruption
" Guess what Chuuya". Dazai's hands were behind his back like he's tied up almost reminiscent to what had happened a few nights ago.
Most would say that it was probably his own fault.. somehow because its always is. He's like a walking time bomb. Otherwise you'd looked at his smug but proud grin with his hands behind his back and think " Is this a open window into your sex life because it needs to be shut". Was Dazai a masochist?, deservant of a good fucking? .
Maybe.
But a good fuck is not on his list of priorities right now this minute more aiming towards wanting a gold star to put on his shirt like a naughty kid with a good behavior chart. Maybe afterwards though.
You could tell he was proud, not that his smile didn't tell it all but from the fact that he was the one who found it and not Chuuya. His short legs wouldn't have been able to reach where is hat hid. Anyway this was major sacrifice he had done , all out of his own courtesy and will.
Travelling to the other side of Yokohoma was not a fun activity. Not counting those endless amounts of stairs in French hill park, without hiking equipment such as proper walking shoes this was not going to be your everyday jog. Also If you think being chased by a pack of staving dogs with a nickname like Mackerel is fun then go ahead.
He wasn't sure whether or not the hatrack would be grateful or not but after all the ordeal and the excessive amounts of exaggeration he soon to add to his devistanting story he'd be swaded in no time without a doubt.
Chuuya sat on the floor, in a slumped stance, almost stiff looking against the semi wallpapered wall all while having a panoramic view of the whole room to keep his eyes on whatever Dazai is doing like the child he is. With legs cushioned by a oversized fluffy blanket drapped over him, simulating a drowning sensation and a amass of cushions with just basic embellishments.
In his bandaged hands, hiding the holes inflicted by corruption held a book, not opened but bookmarked at a certain page- the hound of the baskervilles, a classic.
The brunette bends down to Chuuya's level, if the redhead wasn't too invested in whatever he was doing then he would of thought he was just being condescending as usual. "I found your hat". Dazai reveals with a smile stretched across his face. Chuuya still dismissive over the fact that Dazai let corruption get that bad so the brunette just carries on.
" I know it's a bit tatted and all sorts but that can't be help".
After tracing the brim for the second time, he placed it on the hatrack, looking at him like a photographer ready to take a picture of a certified masterpiece . "I hate to admit but I kinda missed it". Hands now shaping the flame hair to fit around the hat. His eyes gazed over Chuuya's blistered skin like a pyromaniac on probation .
Many blisters had ruptured, some grouped while others stood alone, all creating a thin iridescent sheen all over his small frame while many still remained ready . If left any longer they could get infected with the amount of trauma caused to his skin which meant it was time for Dazai's little housewife act.