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Suicide.
The act of taking one’s own life, is the definition one might find in a dictionary. Personally, Dazai found the description lacking the hollowness the term carried with it. He’d attempted to take his own life more times than he could count, and the aftermath of each failed attempt had left him empty, carved out, like a shell that had lost all of its humanity. Like he was no longer human.
It’d been a while since his last try. In fact, his memories all blurred together so he couldn’t even remember when exactly it had been. He only knew that he’d given up trying to embrace the sweetness of death. Not to uphold moral standards, but because of a much simpler reason…
But there was no time to explain now. There was a girl about to plunge to her death, after all.
Here, the road forked and the story’s plot could continue on one of two paths. One: the protagonist became an active character and helped move the story along. Or two: the protagonist remained passive and left the story to carry itself.
Normally, Dazai would have remained a passive character, but for whatever reason… he chose the former path as he sprinted up the stairs.
‘Excuse me’, Dazai panted as he reached the roof of the school. A small girl stood behind the high protective fence that separated the roof from the edge. Illuminated by the setting sun, her fiery red locks fluttered aimlessly in the wind. Just one step further, and she would be carried by that same spring breeze to the ground…
‘Someone who looks as ethereal as you just doesn’t deserve to die!’ he shouted. ‘At least, you could’ve considered my dream of committing double suicide with a beautiful lady!’
Time passed. Seconds, maybe minutes, Dazai didn’t know. Until –
‘How unpleasant.’ The girl’s voice echoed in the wind, much deeper than Dazai had expected. The next moment, the girl jumped, but not in the direction of the ground far below. Instead, Dazai’s eyes widened when the girl dived right over the railing, defying the rules of gravity itself as she landed right in front of Dazai. A sword the color of blood had appeared in her hands somewhere along the way.
‘I was too much for you’, he said, and it’s only then that Dazai realized it wasn’t a girl but a boy with mesmerizing blue eyes. Which were now cold and empty like the sky during the long winter months.
Dazai gasped and fell to his knees as a searing pain spread to his chest. It felt like a sharp-toothed creature was eating him from the inside, as if someone had reached into his chest and had ripped his heart out… He focused his eyes and his hands wandered to the blade of the sword, which was now embedded in the upper front of his body.
‘Say… Do you think you could do something about this, pretty please?’ he heaved, gesturing at the sword. The boy’s blue eyes widened in disbelief, the emptiness of earlier chased away by curiosity.
‘What in the world are you?’
‘I could ask you the same thing now’, Dazai retorted, the glimpse of a smirk playing around his lips.
That’s how he met Chuuya Nakahara. If their story – if you could call it one – could’ve simply ended there, then all the world’s lore would’ve never come to be.
‘After all, you turned down my offer for a double suicide.’
-
‘A dismembered body, huh?’ Atsushi huffed, head resting in his palm.
Dazai made a face as he struggled to make sense of the series of knots in the wire of the lamp. Whoever had stuffed the thing away in the cardboard boxes must’ve been too lazy to properly stack the stuff. ‘You won’t be able to draw the readers in by simply making all the murders extremely grotesque’, he pointed out.
Atsushi looked up from his notebook. ‘Then what type of murder should I go for?’
‘I think that the murderer’s action and logic are what makes it interesting for the reader’, Dazai mused. ‘I despise characters that go like “Let’s dismember him!” just for the sake of being fancy.’ Finally, the wire gave way to loosen the knots and Dazai placed the adamant thing in front of Atsushi to light the notebook’s pages.
‘This okay?’ he asked.
‘Yes, that’s fine.’
Dazai sank down on the chair across from Atsushi and glared at the pile of notebooks on his left. Both of them were in the Literature Club, and as usual he was slacking off instead of going through the entries. Propping his head on his hand, he placed his other on the stack of notebooks, trailing his finger through the pages. Large bookcases filled with various works of fiction, non-fiction and previous entries lined the walls on his right, while he had the perfect view over the grounds of the school from the wide array of windows behind Atsushi.
‘Dazai-san, your friends in the Literature Club put their hearts and souls into those scraps of paper. It’s rude to toy with them like that’, Atsushi sighed without looking up from his notebook. It’d become a routine for the younger student to call Dazai out like that, even when he knew his words wouldn’t change anything about his senior’s attitude.
‘The way you say that makes me think you don’t respect them one bit, Atsushi-kun! I’m wounded’, Dazai pouted as Atsushi finally lifted his head. He blushed and smiled sheepishly.
‘Can you blame me? You went up to Oda-sensei and told him we’ll hit volume 150 with our next anthology. You should’ve guessed that he was going to have you make this commemorative issue a compilation of our best works!’ Atsushi glanced back at his notebook. ‘Which will be a complete failure if we continue like this, considering the miserable state of the club.’
‘And yet you were the one who advised me to go talk to him’, Dazai whined, burying his face in his arms.
The two of them were startled from their discussion by the sound of a loud thump, coming from the hallway. Atsushi straightened in his seat. ‘Is it Chuuya-san again?’
Dazai groaned. ‘Probably.’ He stood up from his seat and stalked to the door on his left leading to the hallway. ‘I’ll be right back.’
As he opened the door, he was greeted by the silence of the hallway. In the corner stood a few tables and a red vending machine filled with soft drinks. Sunlight filtered through the windows in front of Dazai, illuminating the stone tiles in a warm orange light. There was not a soul to be seen.
The noise he’d heard before had been to lure him out, then. Dazai smirked. It seemed the redhead had changed his tactics.
He decided to ignore the commotion from before and pretended to go to the bathroom a few hundred meters further away, casually putting his hands in the pockets of his trousers. Dazai didn’t hear any sound that indicated Chuuya was even there, but after a week of desperately trying to avoid near-death experiences he’d gotten more or less used to the subtle signs that gave away Chuuya’s presence.
And now…
A slight shift in the air, so imperceptible Dazai wouldn’t have noticed it hadn’t all his senses not been on high alert. He spun around as fast as he could, just in time to see Chuuya land graciously on the ground from where he’d jumped from the top of the row of lockers against the wall (the redhead appeared from the weirdest places one shouldn’t be able to reach unless you defied gravity, which was, of course, impossible). A scarlet sword got pointed at his chest, but Dazai didn’t let that divert his attention.
‘Chibi!’ Dazai exclaimed with fake enthusiasm. ‘What are you doing in a place like this, waiting for me like a loyal dog?’
Chuuya narrowed his eyes and glared. ‘Don’t call me chibi, damn it! I’m still growing! And I’m not your dog. Am I not allowed to be in the same hallway as you, shitty mackerel?’
He wanted to laugh at that statement, but Dazai figured the chibi wouldn’t be pleased with that. Be in the same hallway as you was a very big understatement for deliberately ambushing him in an attempt to kill him.
‘Isn’t it time you gave up?’, he sighed. ‘As I’ve already told you, I’m immortal. No matter how many times you stab me or even fatally wound me with that red monster, you can’t kill me.’
Blue eyes continued to glare at him. ‘Are you sure of that? Maybe I’ll be able to kill you if I try enough times.’
‘Do you realize how many times you’ve stabbed me in the past week?’ Dazai waved his hands around in the futile hope to chase the sword away. ‘I’m not some low-level grunt from a video game!’
‘It’s your own fault, shitty Dazai! I’ve never heard of someone who was possessed by a demon and can take countless fatal blows!’ Chuuya yelled back. He sounded less sure of himself, though.
‘I told you, I’m not possessed by a demon, I’m half-demon! I’m a rare entity, born from a human and a demon’, Dazai huffed. He must admit that wounded his pride as an endangered species a bit. Well, that was the case if you considered that the mere existence of a half-demon was an extremely exceptional occurrence and Dazai was apparently the only one to exist in hundreds or years.
‘I am an Exterminator and you’re a demon, so there is nothing wrong with what I’m doing’, the redhead retorted. Talk about being stubborn.
‘At least consider my feelings, chibi! I may not be able to die, but I can feel the pain from the wounds as well as I would when actually dying. Just think about the feeling of having your innards gouged out.’ He made a face. He’d experienced that exact feeling more than he’d have liked in the past week. ‘And I hate pain.’
‘You’re such an asshole’, was the last thing he heard before Chuuya drove the sword through his chest. Dazai fell to the ground and vaguely registered Chuuya pulling the sword out before striding away.
That had been the fifteenth time.
-
‘Any progress?’ Atsushi asked as Dazai strode back into the Literature Club and sank on a chair.
‘No’, he grumbled. ‘The expression on my face and bloodstains on my shirt should say more than enough.’ He crossed his arms in front of his bloodied white shirt and navy blue vest. Right now Dazai couldn’t care less about smearing the blood any further. His clothes were already beyond saving anyway.
Atsushi closed the notebook as he got up from his chair and made his way to the door. ‘In any way, you should avoid further interactions with Chuuya Nakahara.’
Dazai frowned. Of course that was the most logical choice, as Chuuya was trying to kill him and Dazai was seriously getting tired of all the ruined school uniforms he had to replace. Plus having to experience the agony of several near-death experiences more than once a week did not match with his understanding of a clean, painless suicide, right? Even so, the fact that Atsushi tried to warn him in such a serious way made him wonder if there was something more going on here.
‘Why are you telling me this, Atsushi-kun?’
The boy looked over his shoulder, the innocence from earlier all but vanished. ‘The Agency of Exterminators had jurisdiction over the Exterminators in Yokohama, and one of their key members is giving you a word of advice.’ He turned the handle of the door. ‘You better stay out of their affairs.’
The closing of the door echoed through the Club, leaving a bewildered and wary Dazai alone with his thoughts.
-
It had all started about one week ago. After the blue-eyed boy had stabbed Dazai on the rooftop and found out the latter hadn’t died from the supposedly fatal wound, the redhead had ran off, leaving Dazai to bleed out until his regeneration abilities fully healed him. The blood-red color of the sun seemed to mock him from the horizon.
The next day Oda-sensei introduced the boy as Chuuya Nakahara, a new transfer student from Fukuoka who had recently moved to Yokohama. Why someone would move to the other side of Japan already after the new school year had started, Dazai didn’t know, and the constant glare of blue eyes didn’t give him any chance of finding out more.
Chuuya had continued to try to kill him, showing up after school hours or when Dazai was alone in the hallway – at least he’d been considerate not to let any ordinary people find out about the spirit world co-existing within theirs. It still didn’t explain why he was being so persistent in eliminating Dazai…
‘Doesn’t doing this every day get old?’ Dazai asked as he locked the door of the Literature Club. It was around 8 p.m., a long time since classes had ended.
Chuuya leaned against the far wall, hands stuffed in his pockets. He was still wearing his old school uniform, white shirt with a navy blue tie and a scarlet jacket on top, dark green tartan patterned trousers completing the look. A black leather choker adorned his neck, although Dazai was pretty sure it wasn’t allowed at school, and the longer section of his bright red curls hung over his left shoulder. Bandages were wrapped around the palm of his right hand, a plain black ring decorating his pinkie.
‘Why do you always stay so late after school, shitty bastard?’ If anything, Chuuya looked like he was sulking.
‘It’d be a pain if I went home earlier and you attacked me in front of other students’, Dazai shrugged. It was a lie, and they both knew it. Although being on a killing spree, Chuuya had always made sure no one was around when attacking him. Dazai had secretly hoped the redhead would’ve given up if he stayed at school as late as possible, but it seemed he’d been wrong.
‘If that’s the case, you don’t have to worry’, Chuuya grinned. ‘I made sure that we’d be alone.’
Frowning at Chuuya’ declaration, Dazai looked around and spotted several metal stakes encircled with a bluish fire, cleverly closing off the space to any curious outsiders. Barriers. He had to give it to the redhead, he really was careful when it came to exposure of the spirit world.
‘Thanks for the consideration, I guess’, Dazai sighed, stuffing his hands in the pockets of his trousers. ‘I must admit, I’ve never heard of anyone manipulating their blood and using it as a sword.’
Chuuya came closer and slowly unwrapped the bandages around his palm, revealing the bare skin full of scars. Blood dripped out of an old wound, forming a puddle on the ground. ‘Among the Exterminators, we were loathed as a cursed clan.’ His sky-blue eyes were fixed on the blood running over his skin, not meeting Dazai’s.
Although Chuuya didn’t say it openly, he heard the unspoken hurt in his words. ‘And why is that?’
The redhead lifted his head. ‘We were too powerful. Since Exterminators possess supernatural powers, they have a tendency to want to eliminate the ones who are exceptionally gifted.’ He paused for a moment. ‘As a result, my clan died off. I am the last survivor.’
‘A tragic story.’
The blood seemed to stir. ‘Is that so?’ Chuuya mumbled. ‘I think it’s a rather common one.’ Droplets of red got lifted up in the air, twisting into a long string and drawing complex patterns around each other. Chuuya spun his wrist, commanding the blood at his will and forming a long, shiny sword. A stray droplet fell from its pointed tip to the ground. From up close, the carmine red sword looked even more mesmerizing.
Chuuya curved the weapon up in the air, turning the blade towards Dazai. His eyes were cold.
‘Fight me, Dazai.’
Dazai wanted to roll his eyes. If the chibi seriously thought he’d offer himself to be carved up once again, he was very, very wrong.
‘I’d like to ask you something first.’
‘Go ahead.’
‘Why are you so hung up on me?’
Chuuya bowed his head, but Dazai spotted the blush creeping up his cheeks anyway. Perfect. He didn’t waste any time on waiting for a reaction but darted into the dark hallway. Chuuya stared at him with wide eyes, too surprised to react until Dazai was already at the end of the hall.
‘Oi! Why are you running away from me, you fucking coward?!’ Chuuya shrieked.
‘I’m not running away! This is a tactical retreat!’ Dazai shouted before disappearing behind the corner. He knew he couldn’t beat the redhead in a fight. Plus, it’d end up with Dazai almost dying again. A pointless engagement from the start.
Taking two or three steps at a time, he descended the stairs as fast as he could without landing face-first on the ground below. He heard Chuuya’s footsteps behind him, and then a thud and loud swearing when his pursuer fell over the transparent cord Dazai had hung in the hall as a trap.
At least it’d give him some time.
Dazai cursed whoever had decided the Literature Club to be on the sixth floor when he finally reached the ground floor, sweat running down his spine and panting heavily. He glanced behind him. Chuuya was hot on his heels, having reached the ground floor as well and continuing the chase. But having attended this school for almost two years now, it gave Dazai the ultimate advantage Chuuya didn’t have since he was a new student; Dazai knew the school and all its passages like the back of his hand. He rounded a corner and followed an intricate pattern of turning left and right at certain times. When he reached the dead-end of the hallway, Dazai climbed through the window, reaching the back of the school and bicycle shed.
Somewhere during his getaway he’d lost Chuuya in the maze of little hallways and turns. Dazai paused for a moment to collect his breath. All this physical exertion really wasn’t for him.
The loud sound of something heavy landing in front of him woke him from his rest. Chuuya stood in front of him, sword gripped tightly in his hands. He looked utterly pissed. Where the hell had he come from? The chibi couldn’t have been flying up in the air, could he now?
Dazai saw this as a sign for – once again – a tactical retreat and ran in the opposite direction. He threw the nearest big object he could find behind him – a filthy grey canvas lying against the brick wall. Judging from the noise, the sword made quick work of slicing the poor thing up.
‘You killed the canvas!’ Dazai yelled.
‘Shut the fuck up’, came the heated reply.
The action had momentarily distracted Dazai, though, and he only saw the metal bucket when it was already too late. He crashed to the ground, one foot stuck in the bucket, and collided with the hard earth. A searing pain coursed through his arms and chest. He had probably strained his ankle, too.
This was the worst. Dazai cursed his own carelessness.
Chuuya caught up with him and placed his knee on Dazai’s back to prevent him from getting away. He felt the sharp blade press into the nape of his neck.
‘There’s no escaping now, shitty bastard’, Chuuya said triumphantly. Dazai groaned into the earth. A sudden moment to the left caught his attention.
‘Watch out!’ he shouted, before a dark brown, hairy beast collided with the brick wall in front of them. Purple slime dripped from its mouth, showing a row of sharp, albeit rotten, teeth. The monster’s tiny red eyes observed them menacingly and a low growl escaped from its throat.
‘A demon’, Dazai muttered. Chuuya released him from his tight grip, sharply drawing in his breath. Dazai stood up with some difficulty. He glanced behind him and noticed the faint trembling of the redhead’s hands.
…wasn’t Chuuya supposed to be an Exterminator?
‘Out of the way!’ another voice called out. A man with short reddish-brown hair ran towards them. The demon howled angrily at the sight of the Exterminator and made itself scarce.
‘Odasaku!’ Dazai said cheerily. ‘Still out hunting demons at this hour?’
Oda gave him a soft smile. ‘Apparently this one is quite the prize. I can’t let it escape’, he answered before running off to the direction the demon had disappeared into. ‘Please turn in your essay on modern literature on time’, he said and disappeared from view.
Dazai grinned. Some things never changed.
‘Was that Oda-sensei just now?’
Ah, crap. He’d almost forgotten why he was here in the first place. Dazai turned around to face Chuuya, sword pointed at the ground and a confused expression on his face.
‘It was. Odasaku is sort of a famous Exterminator around these parts’, Dazai said proudly.
‘Is that so’, Chuuya mumbled. He stared at the place where Oda had disappeared into. For a moment, neither of them said anything. Then, the silence was interrupted by the rumbling of the chibi’s stomach.
Dazai smirked. ‘Are you hungry?’
As expected, Chuuya covered his stomach with his arms. ‘Shut the fuck up’, he said, but there was no real bite to his words.
An idea popped up in Dazai’s mind. Maybe, just maybe, he wouldn’t be nearly killed today.
‘I think it’s about time you called it quits, chibi. Let’s make a deal.’
-
Dazai toyed absentmindedly with his food, the curry rice barely eaten from and long gone cold. It tasted a little bland, nothing like the spicy curry Odasaku always made when Dazai came over and left his mouth on fire. ‘You’ve never defeated a demon? Even though you’re an Exterminator?’
‘It’s not that I’m bad’, Chuuya sulked from the other side of their table. ‘It’s just… close to zero.’ He’d finished his food within the five minutes they’d received it, which was quite impressive since he’d ordered a large bowl of tonkatsu ramen, and had now crossed his arms over his chest.
‘I told you, didn’t I?’ the redhead continued. ‘My clan was loathed because of their ability to manipulate their blood, so I’ve been avoiding anything that has to do with subduing demons in order to keep my powers a secret.’
Dazai made circles in the thick curry with his spoon. ‘To make things clear’, he said, ‘you decided that I’m a demon, mustered up your courage and attacked me.’ The small lump of rice got mixed in with the brown sauce, further messing up the dish.
Chuuya nodded. ‘I did. And then you told me you were immortal… that means I can stab you all I want and you won’t die.’
The spoon got thrown into the plate. ‘Don’t tell me you’ve been using me as a training dummy’, Dazai questioned suspiciously.
‘And why not? You’ve got nothing to lose, shitty mackerel’, Chuuya grumbled, blue eyes back to glaring.
‘Well, I do!’, he blurted. ‘I told you I’m not immune to pain, your stabbing is literally tearing up my internal organs! And we’re not even talking about all the school uniforms I’ve had to replace this week!’ Dazai huffed and gestured to his shirt and jacket. ‘If you think you can do whatever you want just because I’m immortal, I’m filing in a complaint for discrimination against an endangered species!’
Chuuya rolled his eyes. ‘You know other people can hear you, right?’
‘That shouldn’t be a problem. I made sure no one’s around here.’
Their waitress from earlier appeared from behind the corner. ‘Thank you for waiting’, she called out and placed a plate of omurice and a little bowl of rice crackers in front of Chuuya. Dazai gaped at the additional food and his eyes met the chibi’s innocent, blank stare. He waited until the waitress had disappeared again.
‘You ordered even more food?’ he yelled, arms frantically around to emphasize his words. How could so much food even fit into the tiny posture of the chibi? Maybe he had more than one stomach?
‘You’re being unpleasant.’ Chuuya picked up the spoon and started eating the omurice at an even faster pace than before, not letting Dazai’s outburst bother his appetite.
‘You’re the one being unpleasant’, he whined. ‘First, you use me as your personal training dummy and then you leech dinner off me!’
The spoon halted before it reached Chuuya’s mouth. ‘Isn’t this what we agreed on? I won’t challenge you to fight me today, and in exchange you buy me dinner.’
It was true, to a certain extent. After their encounter with Oda, Dazai had offered a deal to Chuuya. He’d treat the redhead to dinner in exchange for not getting pinned on his bloody stick. Chuuya had agreed, and that’s how they’d ended up at the nearest establishment offering cheap food. Having his own place didn’t mean Dazai had that much money to spare for eating out, mind you. Especially with Chuuya ordering seconds after having finished the largest bowl of noodles available on the menu.
Dazai sighed and hid his head in his arms. ‘You make it sound like I can expect you to attack me again starting tomorrow.’ He spared a glance at the redhead. ‘Really, chibi is the worst. But even though demons can cause serious casualties, most of them aren’t that hard to deal with for those with Exterminator powers. It should be easier than stabbing me.’
‘I know that’, Chuuya mumbled, having finished the dish and now picking at the bowl of rice crackers as if they’d personally offended him. ‘Thank you for dinner.’
They didn’t say anything after that. Dazai paid the bill (which was still reasonable even though a certain someone had taken advantage of his good intentions) and they walked to the station, both going their separate ways once they went through the ticket gates.
It sent a hollow sensation through his body, and it didn’t give him any more answers than after he’d made the deal with Chuuya. Dazai wondered what monsters of the past still haunted the redhead.
-
Dazai woke up to the high-pitched sound of his alarm. He groaned and grabbed his phone to turn the wicked thing off. Sunlight streamed through the curtains where he hadn’t bothered to close them properly last night, preventing any chance at getting five more minutes of sleep unless he got up and fixed the problem. Which was too much effort for a Friday morning.
Shuddering the covers off, he sat upright on the edge of the bed and slid his hands into his hair. A faint headache made itself known at the back of his head. That was what he got for staying up so late yesterday. Dazai had worked all evening on his assignment on modern literature for Odasaku and then gone to bed, but the uneasy feeling in his gut had made it impossible to fall asleep. Thus he’d done some research about Exterminator clans capable of manipulating blood, and when he came up with nothing, he changed his search to heartbeat, muscle power, even brain manipulation.
But he’d found nothing.
Still frustrated from his failed investigation, he got ready for school. Dazai snatched a leftover yakisoba bread wrapped in plastic from the open kitchen, grabbed his assignments from the low table next to his bed where he usually made his homework and seized his school books from the small bookcase next to the table. The apartment where he lived was small, but large enough to have everything in it he needed.
Putting on his shoes at the genkan, he rushed to the station to catch the train. First period was math from Kunikida-sensei, one of the few lessons he really didn’t want to be late for. The man could be quite scary when angry (Dazai had experienced that firsthand when he’d slept in and arrived half an hour late. Needless to say, that was the first and last time he’d pulled off a stunt like that with the blonde).
Chuuya was already there when he arrived in the classroom, but the redhead didn’t spare him a single glance. Dazai made his way to his chair – diagonally in front of Chuuya. It was very difficult not to fall asleep before noon with Kunikida-sensei going on about integral calculus and derivatives, and after that history class about Taishō democracy and all its movements during the twenties. He slid a paper saying ‘I’d like to talk to you. Meet me after school.’ to Chuuya, but didn’t get an answer. If Dazai was honest, classes without a constant glare directed at this back were a little boring.
He more or less slept through the afternoon classes and wrote some nonsense stories during Club time, Atsushi oddly absent without any notice. It was all just to cover up the strange nerves in his stomach. Would Chuuya show up or not? Dazai had a feeling he’d said something wrong yesterday, that maybe Chuuya had shut himself off and he wouldn’t be able to fix the strange relationship that had sprouted between them.
Dazai told himself he shouldn’t get worked up like this about someone he barely knew and who’d been trying to kill him for the past few days, but it didn’t do anything to stop his brooding.
A wave of relief washed over him when he saw Chuuya in the exact same position as the day before – leaning against the wall facing the door to the Literature Club and hands stuffed in his pockets. Dazai didn’t even realize a small smile had made its way to his lips until Chuuya muttered something like ‘idiot’ as they left the school grounds.
‘Do you mind stopping by that stand? I need to buy dinner’, Chuuya asked.
‘I have time’, Dazai shrugged.
The stand sold all sorts of bento, ranging from small boxes filled with seafood onigiri or saffron rice with beef and vegetables to sushi rice with sweet cooked crabmeat on top. Chuuya chose a box with scallop rice and pressed sushi rolls.
‘That’ll be 390 yen, please’, the saleswoman said, putting the box into a plastic sac.
Chuuya rummaged through his wallet. ‘Then I’ll give you 500 yen… Huh?’ Dazai looked over his shoulder and sighed when he saw what the problem was.
‘You need to borrow some money?’ he whispered. The saleswoman looked at them suspiciously. The silence was answer enough.
‘I’m so sorry about that!’ Chuuya blurted as they walked away from the stand, the red color on his face matching with his hair and hands once again stuffed in his pockets. Dazai had noticed he seemed to do this when he was nervous or embarrassed.
‘Never mind’, Dazai said cheerily. All in all, he found the incident rather amusing. They entered a small park surrounded by cherry trees, pink leaves swaying peacefully in the wind, and sat down on a wooden bench.
‘So, what did you want to talk about?’
Dazai hummed. ‘Well, I was wondering if there’s a reason why you decided to come all the way to Tokyo from Fukuoka.’ Not really what he wanted to ask at the moment, but nevertheless something he’d been wondering about since Chuuya had first arrived.
‘None in particular’, Chuuya shrugged. ‘And even if I did, do you think I’d tell you right now?’ A flock of seagulls shrieked from high above in the air.
‘In other words, the chibi has a reason!’ Dazai said triumphantly.
Chuuya turned around on the bench so he wasn’t facing Dazai and took the bento box out of the sac. He opened the lid, broke the wooden chopsticks and started eating a piece of pressed sushi with smoked salmon on top. ‘I won’t fall for your loaded questions, shitty Dazai.’
‘Chuuya, I’m wounded!’ Dazai whined, clutching his hands in front of his shirt even though the redhead couldn’t see him. ‘And why are you even eating in the park and not at home?’ He frowned. ‘Don’t tell me there is a reason why you can’t eat at home?’
Chuuya stiffened. ‘Why do you ask?’ he said in a small voice. If Dazai hadn’t had a bad feeling about this, it’d have been funny how Chuuya looked like a deer caught in the headlights.
‘You’re like an open book’, he muttered. Chuuya turned back to face him, blue eyes widened in surprise, and Dazai tilted his head. ‘Were you unable to pay rent?’
‘I managed to make this month’s payment!’
‘Your apartment is covered in garbage and smells so like wet dog you can’t get in?’
‘I keep it clean! And how many times do I have to tell you I’m not a freaking dog!’
‘Then… Do you maybe have a demon in your room?’
Chuuya picked at his food with the chopsticks. ‘Do you even think it is possible that the exact same room I moved into just happened to have a demon inside…’
‘I see.’ Dazai got up from the bench and walked past Chuuya. The wind sent loose cherry blossom leaves flying in the air, accompanying the orange hues of the setting sun with spots of pink.
‘Oi, wait a minute! Where the hell do you think you’re going, mackerel?’
Dazai grinned and faced Chuuya. ‘I’m going to help you take it down. You’ll earn some money by killing it, and once you’ve grown confident in yourself I won’t have to worry about you stabbing me on a daily basis anymore!’
Chuuya stood, blue eyes piercing through dark brown ones. ‘I don’t want you to.’
‘And why is that?’ Dazai asked. He’d wondered about that yesterday, too. When the demon had crashed right in front of them and Dazai had looked back at Chuuya only to find his hands slightly trembling from their iron grip on the sword.
‘I’m afraid of taking its life’, Chuuya muttered. His hands balled into fists, challenging Dazai to make fun of him.
But he didn’t. He knew better than to prod at past wounds haunting people to this day, especially when right now Chuuya was so vulnerable with him. Honest with him. Dazai had had his own fair share of those wounds back in the day, and he’d be lying to himself if he believed them to be completely gone even now.
‘If I could quit… I would have a long time ago’, Chuuya said, voice steady and a determined expression on his face. ‘I tried leading a normal life, a life free from Exterminator powers and killing demons.’
He held up his hand, gesturing at the bandages around his palm. ‘But my powers and the cursed blood running through my veins aren’t normal. This power…’ Chuuya looked at his hand with wide eyes, and Dazai knew whatever it was he wanted to say was too much. The past had taken over, Chuuya completely lost in its tight grip of unrelenting memories.
‘I’m the same way’, Dazai said softly. Chuuya tilted his head and Dazai saw the fear and confusion reflected in those brilliant blue eyes. He smiled.
‘Let’s go. We have a demon to defeat.’