Chapter Text
The wind howled through the mountain path. It dragged snowflakes with it, scattering and tossing them around till it blew them away towards the village. Dazai pulled his haori tighter around his chest. The rhythmic clinking of the rings on the top of his staff was barely audible in the ruthless gale. He narrowed his eyes to protect them from the cutting wind; they brimmed with tears at the cold bite of the air. He braced himself and continued to march forward, leaving deep fresh tracks in his wake just for them to be covered in snow only minutes after he passed. An untouched white blanket, like no one had ever been there.
The mountain seemed to be angry at him. It only got worse as he grew up. When he came up here during the winter for the first time, the snow was gentle, warm. Then it grew afraid of him, by now it was furious. Dazai stabbed the staff deep into the thick snow and forced himself to go forward. He had to go, he had to see Chuuya.
This was the only time of the year when he could do that. The snow yokai was always there, always welcomed him. They grew close during all these years and Dazai would lie if he said that it meant nothing to him. Chuuya seemed more and more tired with each passing winter. His powers were drained and the black tendrils around his wrist snaked up to his shoulders, to his neck by the last winter. Dazai couldn’t help but feel worried. Worried for the yokai, for the village in the valley.
A sudden blast of wind yanked him out of his thoughts. He crossed his arms in front of himself protectively, covering his face.
“You really hate me, do you?” Dazai murmured with a smirk.
He was close, he was almost at the tree where they always met. It didn’t matter how much the snow or the whole mountain hated him. He wanted to meet Chuuya. He spent years learning how to stop the corruption eating him away. Ever since he realized what was happening with the yokai, he dedicated himself to finding a way to stop it. Now he might be able to do something. And there was no stormy wind that could block his way. The rings on his staff tinkled as he pushed himself forward.
The wind stopped and everything went quiet. Dazai had to take a few steps to regain his balance now that there was no force he had to fight against. He blinked a few times and rubbed the hot tears from the corners of his eyes that the cold blast made him shed. He looked up. Chuuya was there. He stood by the tree, one arm resting in the folds of his yukata. The once pale skin now darkened, black and red snakes writhing around the flesh. Dazai opened his mouth to speak but when his gaze met with Chuuya’s his words died in his throat.
The yokai looked at him with narrowed eyes and lips pressed together tightly. The blue orbs flashed dangerously. Disgust reflected in the cerulean gaze. Dazai’s hold on his staff tightened. He knew that Chuuya would be furious, but this look still sent chills down his spine. He swallowed before he took a step forward.
Chuuya bared his teeth with a snarl, which made Dazai halt.
“Chuuya, please. Let me-”
“What were you thinking silly human? That I will let you near me and let you exorcise me?” Chuuya spat the words. “No… no… I was the fool. You don’t even try to hide it.” Chuuya shook his head with a bitter chuckle. ”Look at you, you are a monk. Congratulations! You can protect your beloved village from me!”
“Chuuya stop!” Dazai took another few steps towards the yokai.
“Don’t come near me!” Chuuya shouted, his voice echoed through the cliffs.
The yokai’s eyes flashed and a sudden blast of snowy wind knocked Dazai off his balance. The brunette landed on his knees, snowflakes littering his dark brown hair. He gritted his teeth and forced himself to calm his racing heart. He had to make Chuuya understand. He pushed himself up and dashed forward, grabbing the redhead’s wrist and kicking his legs from under him.
They both landed in the glittering white snow, which stirred around them, reflecting the rays of the winter sun. Dazai straddled Chuuya, trapping him with his own weight. His fingers still curled around the redhead’s wrist while he held the youkai still by pushing his shoulder deeper into the snow.
“I want you to listen to me!” Dazai hissed through his teeth. “If I have to make you listen, I will. But please don’t make me do that.”
Chuuya turned his head away with a scoff. That was enough reassurance for the brunette that the yokai has his attention.
“I don’t want to exorcise you. I studied all these years to find something, to be able to do something to save you.” Dazai’s tone softened.
His hand from Chuuya’s shoulder trailed to the redhead’s neck. He traced down the vein all the way to the collarbone, before slowly pushing away the fabric of the yukata. He felt Chuuya tense under him. The yokai didn’t move, even his breathing stopped as he waited for Dazai’s next move. The brunette caressed his chest, fingers ghosting over the pale skin. He placed his palm above Chuuya's heart and closed his eyes. For a few passing seconds he enjoyed the rhythmic beating under his fingers. Dazai opened his eyes with a sigh. His gaze fell on the dark tendrils almost reaching the line of his hand.
“Chuuya. It almost reached your heart. If we don’t do something, your very core will get corrupted and then I won’t be able to help.”
“Why would you want to help?” Chuuya scoffed again.
“Do you remember? The first time we met. I told you that I like your snow.” Dazai’s lips curved into a warm smile. “I still do.”
Chuuya’s eyes widened as he turned back towards the brunette.
“How can you remember? You were so small. That was so long ago.” Chuuya looked down and let out a shaky sigh. “Dazai, you can’t help me. Go back to your village. I’m sure the people there will need you more than I do.” He raised his hand between them and turned it as he examined the now jet black skin. “I still have a winter or two left.” He locked gazes with Dazai. His cerulean eyes linked to Dazai’s hazel ones. “You have to go.”
Dazai opened his mouth to retort but a strong punch in his stomach sent him flying. He landed with a loud thud and a soft puff of snow around him. His staff bored into the ground halfway to its length right next to him, the rings clinked on the top.
“Chuuya!” Dazai shouted as he tried to stand up, but his ribs screamed in protest. The yokai must had cracked some of them. Dazai dropped back on the ground with a grunt.
“The snow was right about you, Dazai.” Chuuya spoke in a quiet tone as he caressed a snowflake with his fingers.
“What?” Dazai winced as he tried to inch closer.
“That you will be my doom.” Chuuya tilted his head and smiled sadly before he disappeared with a gentle puff of the wind, leaving only a few dancing snowflakes in his place.
“Chuuya! Don’t!” Dazai shouted, he reached forward but pain flashed through his body. He dropped on the ground and curled up to ease his suffering. “Damn you, Chuuya…”
---
Dazai didn't go back to the mountain that winter. Chuuya would just send him away anyway. The yokai was too stubborn to accept any kind of help from a human. Maybe too stubborn to accept help at all. Dazai spent the rest of the winter and the upcoming spring doing research. He hoarded various writings, listened to several tales, spoke with the travelling monks who visited the temple. He nested himself in his room for days without eating or sleeping. Still his efforts seemed to be useless.
“That’s not good enough!” He screamed. He picked up the paper he was reading and tore it in half, just to toss it away in the next second. With the movement he knocked over his ink stone, splattering the thick, black liquid on the rest of the documents.
“No...No, no no…!” He shouted, his voice was a desperate plea as he tried to save what he could.
“Damn it!” He gritted his teeth. He crunched the tainted pages in his hand, the pages that turned black like Chuuya’s skin. He was running out of time. He still couldn’t find anything that could help the yokai, that could stop the corruption spreading, eating away Chuuya’s body and spiritual power.
Dazai cried out in frustration and he flipped the small table, shoving it against the wooden wall with a loud clash. Papers scattered across the room, burnt down candles and empty water jars littered the floor. Dazai was panting heavily in the middle of the chaos, his hand curled into a fist. “There is not enough time…” he muttered to himself.
“There… is…” he was struggling with his words, he leaned down and picked up a bottle, turning it in his hands. His expression darkened as the helpless rage filled his body, burning his insides and boiling the blood in his veins. “There is… not… enough… time!” He yelled and with a twist of his waist he threw the bottle against the shoji door, ripping apart the thin paper. When the jar landed outside it shattered to pieces with a loud clatter and a surprised gasp hit Dazai’s ear. The brunette’s eyes widened when he spotted the familiar shadow through the door.
“Da-Dazai-san, is everything alright?” The boy spoke in a quiet tone like he couldn’t decide if he should speak with Dazai or leave him alone.
Dazai dropped to his knees and took a few deep breaths to calm himself down before he slid the shoji away. When he looked up, his eyes met with a pair of surprised golden-purple ones.
“It’s okay, Atsushi-kun.” Dazai’s lips curved into a gentle smile. His apprentice was kneeling just in front of him, with fresh water and food on a tray. It hadn’t been long since he took Atsushi in, and in his desperate search he almost forgot that the boy lived with him. He shook his head and rubbed his face with his palm. “I think I overworked myself a little. That’s all.”
“Dazai-san, I hadn’t seen you in days, I started to-”
Dazai’s raised hand made the boy bite back his words.
“I hope you are not neglecting your duties because of me.” Dazai narrowed his eyes at Atsushi.
“No! No, that’s not it. I’m finished with all my daily tasks, I’ve done my trainings and studies,” Atsushi sputtered.
“Even calligraphy?” Dazai leaned closed with a raised brow.
Atsushi gulped and backed away with a nervous chuckle. “Well… about that…”
“Atsushi-kun…” Dazai lowered his tone.
“Y-yes… D-Dazai-san?” Atsushi curled his fingers into fists nervously then straightened them out again, small beads of sweat already forming on his temples, but he still held his mentor’s gaze.
“Didn’t I tell you before that calligraphy is essential for us? How will you be able to do charms properly without it, hm?”
Atsushi leaned forward, his forehead touching the wooden floor. “I’m sorry, Dazai-san. I promise I won’t slack off again.“
Dazai blinked at the silver haired boy, he sounded desperate. Everyone carried a burden, a piece of their past they didn’t want to share with anybody. Dazai never asked what bothered Atsushi, what made him overreact like this for even the slightest mistake. He knew better than to ask. His fingers wrapped around his bandaged forearm. It shouldn’t matter now, but the part of them would always remembered. Remembered those things that they shoved into the deepest darkness in the back of their minds, a caged monster, locked away so that it couldn’t see the light of the day anymore. Still, there were times when this monster rattled its chains. Only an echo, coming from far away, but it was enough to cut in deep, to bite into their bones.
He might have seen the shadow of Atsushi’s monster when he took the boy in. Maybe that was the reason why he took an apprentice. It didn’t matter now. All that mattered was the present and what he could do to make it even the slightest bit better. Even if he himself wasn’t a good enough person, he may be able to teach Atsushi to become one. He let his fingers slip from his arm to Atsushi’s shoulder.
The boy froze for a moment before he pried one of his eyes open and looked up at Dazai.
“Bring your kit, I will help you,” Dazai said with a warm smile.
The boy straightened up immediately, his face brightened up in a split second.
“Thank you, Dazai-san!” He jumped up and stormed away, but halted halfway down the corridor. “Um…” he turned back as he scratched the back of his head. ”Do you want to do it here, outside?”
“Yes. As you can see, my room is a mess, and the weather is nice. Now hurry.” Dazai waved his hand and the boy disappeared around the corner.
The brunette let out a long sigh and let his head fall back. He examined the knots and wood grains on the ceiling. His thoughts kept wandering back to Chuuya.
“I still have a winter or two left.”
Dazai’s chest tightened. He gritted his teeth and squeezed his eyes shut as his head dropped forward. He buried his face in his palms, swallowing hard to wash down the bitterness building up in the back of his throat. “What if I can’t save you, Chuuya?”
Soft thuds on the hardwood snapped him out of his thoughts. Atsushi was back, in his hands the wooden calligraphy set. The boy dropped to his knees and inched closer to Dazai. The brunette watched as he set down two papers, one in front of him and one in front of Dazai. He peeked up and when Dazai nodded to him, he continued his preparations. He set out the brushes in the middle in neat rows, poured a small amount of water on the inkstone then started to grind the ink. His movements were smooth and dedicated. He circled the sumi on the stone, making the ink thicker and thicker in the process. Once he found the texture good enough, he pushed the finished ink into the well of the inkstone using the sumi before he repeated the whole process. When he was ready he put down everything and placed the inkstone between the papers.
“Go ahead.” Dazai waved towards the brushes.
Atsushi took a deep breath before he reached for a brush. He straightened his back before he dipped the tip into the ink, the strands sucking up the thick dark liquid. Atsushi brought the brush over the paper then started to draw. He was so focused on what he was doing he didn’t even notice that when he wiped down the sweat from his forehead he accidentally smudged some ink on his face. Dazai couldn’t help but chuckle.
Atsushi froze on the spot. He turned towards Dazai with a grave expression. “Did I get it wrong?”
“Dazai shook his head. “No, no, this one is fine.” He pointed to his own face while he let out a small laughter. “There is ink on your face.”
“Aaaah, I did it again. I can’t believe it.” Atsushi sighed as he braced his palms on his knees with his head dropped forward.
“Never mind,” Dazai pulled out a tissue from the folds of his robe and handed it to Atsushi.
“T-Thank you, Dazai-san.” The boy took the cloth with a deep bow and scrubbed the ink off his face before returning to his task.
Dazai watched him learn and practice. The boy was full of life and dedication. He would make a good monk. He would surely help people, better than Dazai ever could.
The sun began to sink towards the horizon, golden rays shining through the fresh leaves of the trees, painting the papers the shade of honey. The spring breeze gently caressed their cheeks and Dazai hummed to himself. Everything was nice and peaceful like this. He was thinking, would it be this peaceful if he never got to know Chuuya? If he never chose the path of the monks to help the yokai? If he never took Atsushi in? He blinked and shook his head. Brown locks fell messily over his face. He would never know.
“Ah,” he pointed towards Atsushi’s piece of paper. “You got this one wrong. Look…” He picked up a brush himself and dipped into the ink. As the blackness spread along the strands he froze for a moment. He remembered the dark tendrils on pale skin. How they withered towards Chuuya’s heart, threatening to swallow him, to drag him into the darkness he can never escape from…
“Umm… Dazai-san. You will get too much ink on your brush.” Atsushi spoke in an uncertain tone.
Dazai snapped his head up. “Right… Right. Thank you Atsushi. I got lost in thought. So…” he forced a smile on his face before he started to stroke his brush along the paper. “Here, you have to be careful. This is how you write 神社 jin ja. Can you see the difference?”
“Yes, it’s clear now!” Atsushi nodded.
“I will show you another tricky one. I think if you manage to learn these two today, you are good to go.” With quick and smooth movements, he drew the kanjis on the paper and showed it to the boy. “This one is 御守 omamori, remember it well because you will use it a lot. Now try it.” Dazai gestured towards Atsushi’s paper.
“Okay, I will do my best.” Atsushi narrowed his eyes and dipped the brush in the ink. Then he started to draw. He even stuck his tongue out in the process.
It brought a real smile to Dazai’s face. He inched closer and looked at the paper from over Atsushi’s shoulder. He scratched his chin with a hum.
“I see. I see. You are a natural. You will be popular with girls. From now on, you will make the love charms for the temple.”
Atsushi froze again; he almost dropped the brush as he turned back to face Dazai.
“L-l-love charms… you say.”
The boy’s horrified expression was worth every mischief in Dazai’s life. He couldn’t hold back his laughter. It burst out of him and he dropped on his back, rolling to his side as he grabbed his stomach.
“Atsushi-kun. You should have seen your face. Oh my…” It took a few minutes for Dazai to catch his breath before he pushed himself into a sitting position and wiped a single tear from the corner of his eye. “I was joking. We use 御守 omamori in protection charms. You shouldn’t worry. But, I’m still sure that you will be popular among girls.“ Dazai looked up at the ceiling as he scratched his chin, like he was wondering about the future paths for Atsushi.
“Dazai-saaan.” Atsushi cried out.
“Okay, okay. Enough for today. Clean this up and return to your quarters.”
Atsushi nodded before he started to wash the brushes in a clean bowl, the crystal water quickly turning into muddy grey as the ink dissolved in it. He rinsed the inkstone before he packed it away. He stood up and bowed deeply to Dazai.
“Thank you for helping me, Dazai-san” Then he turned on his heels and rushed away.
Dazai let out a tired sigh before he turned back towards his room. The mess inside felt choking, but he had to continue his work. He pushed himself to stand and stepped towards the door when something caught his attention. It was only a flicker in the corner of his eye, but it made him halt and turn back. It was the black silk ribbon from Atsushi’s calligraphy set. It got stuck in the floor and now it danced in the soft wind. The boy used it to tie the brushes and keep them in place so as not to damage the tip while he carried them with him. Dazai’s eyes widened as a new idea lit in his mind. He knelt down and freed the fabric, resting it on his palm while he ran his fingers along it.
“This can work... I have nothing else left. I have to try.”
He curled his fingers around the ribbon and stormed into his room, not bothering to shut the shoji behind him. He flipped the desk back to its place. He laid the ribbon on it, picked up a paper from the floor and started scribbling. He threw himself back into his work with renewed hope. Maybe he would be able to help Chuuya.