Work Text:
5 years ago, I was assigned to spy on the Port Mafia. This was my most dangerous assignment till date. One slip would make my head detached from my shoulders, yet I still took this job. I needed to find a way to climb to the top, to get my voice heard in this power hungry world. What I did not expect were the entanglements that would make me wish that I could hold this position forever.
4 years ago, I lost two of my closest friends; one to the cold clutches of death, the other to my actions. I knew this job would come with heavy losses, yet I cannot help but feel a tinge of sadness every time I remember his grief-stricken face at the truth. I claimed to care about them, I claimed to love him. But I'm a gun who isn't allowed to mourn for the lives I've taken, used by others for their needs.
3 years ago, I have countless reports on Dazai. After he left the Mafia, the government made us keep an eye on him, in an attempt to sniff out anything amiss. Our spies were all over the place, keeping close tabs on what the former Demon Prodigy was going to do. I cannot help but feel like he's aware he's being followed. The eyes in every discreet snap feel so cold, so dark. As if he's plotting a death. I know this is just a duty, but I can't help but feel relaxed when I know that he's alive.
2 years ago, he has come back to the surface, as part of a neutral organization. The organization causes a ruckus from time to time, making it a pain for me to cover up his messes. But he genuinely seems happy here. Perhaps Odasaku was right, he really was a lonely child trying too hard in a dark, adult world. However he still hasn't forgiven my crime. And that's OK, since I haven't forgotten it myself.
1 year ago, we met up at Odasaku's grave. It was purely a coincidence, I went to visit it on a whim only to see him sitting behind it. His distant gaze made me think that he was reminiscing about our past. Being a wanted man made him eyes behind his head, cause he immediately questioned my intentions. This was the first time we had talked outside of work, ever since those days. His face was smiling, yet his voice wanted me dead. I didn't care. I didn't want him to forgive me. I only wanted him again.
Now as the clock strikes 12, he kisses me. There is something a bit tender about it. He holds me so tightly, it hurts a little. Things between us have improved, a bit at least. We meet only to fulfill our needs and wants, and Dazai's side of the bed is empty when the morning comes. But lately he has been staying over more, asking for more, talking to him with the threats turned down. It's not something great but for me, it's more than enough. Dazai may never forgive me, yet he's having me back in his life again. That's something good right? Perhaps this kiss is a sign for things to come, for better and for worse.