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the night was cold, as most nights have been recently, with howling winds shaking the trees and the sound of crashing tides against the base of the cliff. nonetheless, the moon was still bright, with clouds sparely occupying the sky, but even that didn’t bring warmth to its surroundings.
the cold didn’t seem to bother dazai and chuuya; the two of them lying down in a barren empty field, with only each other for company, along with the sky, the stars, and the rest of the universe glaring down at them.
“look at how bright the stars are tonight,” dazai said, resignation heavy in his voice.
chuuya merely hummed, so quiet that even dazai had trouble catching it. he didn’t say anything after that.
“out of all people, i can’t believe i’m stuck with you,” dazai continued, uncomfortable with the silence chuuya had gifted him. he was familiar with the loud chuuya, the passionate chuuya, the angry chuuya, not this chuuya. this chuuya was foreign territory, because chuuya doesn’t know when to shut up. and when he did, it was even more deafening, because it meant that even chuuya, always headstrong, never hesitant, has given up too.
the silence rang even louder after his statement, before chuuya grumbled a “don’t think this is any better for me.”
“so the little chibi is alive after all!”
“not for long,” chuuya scoffed, the same resignation haunting his voice, not even bothering to say anything scathing in response to dazai’s taunt.
dazai faltered. he was right, of course. they were stuck in this empty field, hundreds of miles away from anyone either of them knew who could or would be able to help them, with gunshots in both of their abdomens. neither yosano-sensei or even mori would be able to make it in time, even if they could contact them. neither of them were in the condition to move either. all in all, it was a horrible situation to be in.
“at least I’m finally dying,” dazai answered, quite lamely, and it seemed like chuuya realised it was too, because all he gave in response was another undignified scoff.
“at least you’re finally dying,” chuuya agreed. “although, i always thought i was going to be the one to kill your shitty ass.”
“you seem more than fine with dying,” dazai noted, ignoring the second part of the statement.
chuuya attempted a weak shrug, or as much as a shrug it can be while lying on the ground.
“i don’t know anymore. i’ll miss ane-san and her tea sessions. i’ll miss akutagawa and sparring with him. hell, i’ll even miss elise-chan! i’ll miss them all, but dying, i guess i was expecting it sooner or later. more later than sooner, you know.” chuuya let out a bitter laugh, followed by a wistful sigh. “i won’t even get to taste that wine i imported recently from italy. what a shame; it had cost a lot.”
dazai laughed. it was so chuuya to think of wine even while on the verge of death.
“i don’t know what i’d miss,” he admitted.
from the corner of his eye, he saw chuuya raise an eyebrow. “not even your detective agency? not even the jinko?”
“i guess i would miss them.”
chuuya hummed again. “are you happy there?”
“what?”
“stupid bastard. i asked if you were happy there, at the agency.”
“i,” dazai faltered. he wasn’t expecting chuuya to ask that. he never thought chuuya even cared. “yeah. i suppose i am happy.”
“that’s good,” there was a rare genuine smile on chuuya’s face. “i’m glad.”
“why are you asking me this?”
“what,” chuuya rolled his eyes. “are you saying i shouldn’t care about my ex-partner’s wellbeing?”
he fell silent to that, with only the chirps of crickets and the continuous crashing waves for company.
“say chuuya,” dazai began, breaking the delicate silence, turning to face chuuya.
“what is it, asshole?”
“what if we were just normal people?” it was a question dazai never thought he’d ask the other man, but it seemed right at this moment, the both of them leaking their blood and sweat into the ground, their lives finally slowing to a halt. “what if we had met like normal people, instead of meeting the way we did.”
“i don’t think we were ever normal, or could ever be normal,” chuuya replied after a moment of silence, turning to face dazai.
he was telling the truth; the both of them were brought into the mafia life too early for being normal to even make a difference. dazai was found by mori at the tender age of thirteen, and chuuya, chuuya didn’t even have a life prior to the sheep or the mafia, still known to the government and the outside world as an science experiment.
“but what if?” dazai asked again, ignoring logic and all the fallacies and everything else, shifting closer to chuuya’s side, the two of them shoulder to shoulder. chuuya didn’t push him away, and he didn’t know if he was too exhausted to or just genuinely didn’t care anymore. “what if we had went to high school? what if we had met in high school?”
“we would’ve automatically hated each other, no matter what,” chuuya laughed, playing along, not bothering on asking why dazai was being overly nostalgic. after all, chuuya knew him best anyways.
“yeah,” dazai replied, a grin making its way onto his face. it was too tiring to pretend to hate each other for the sake of it all, not when either of them could disappear in any minute. “but,” he continued with a trill, “we’d be forced into the same classes, and you’d think i wasn’t so bad after all.”
“as if. i’d think you’d be annoying no matter what.”
“we would then become great friends after a huge fight in the school cafeteria.”
“that you instigated over something stupid,” chuuya retorted. “but would we really?”
“we would,” dazai confirmed. “and we’d always sneak into the rooftop of the school and have lunch there.”
“you’d just steal my lunch, bastard.”
“i definitely would, i like your food.”
“maybe i’ll cook for you when this is all over.” there was wistful lilt to chuuya’s voice, as if he really did believe that they might survive.
“maybe,” dazai echoed. if only it could be true. “you can make me crab cakes like a perfect little housewife.” he braced for a punch that never came. instead, chuuya was still smiling, probably a bit dazed from the blood loss and dreaming about the hypothetical life they both created on a whim, trying to escape the deafening reality the both of them knew would come to be.
“i think you would be in the student council,” chuuya continued, proving dazai right.
“you too; we’d be partners again.”
“again, hm?”
“yeah, again. and i’d always end up getting more chocolate than you from the girls on valentine’s day,” dazai boasted, of a life he never had and never will have.
“as if,” chuuya snickered. “how would you even be more popular than me?”
“because I’m good looking, slug, not that you’d ever understand.”
chuuya rolled his eyes. “cocky bastard.”
“and then we’d graduate high school together, and then we’d end up going to the same university—you’d study something stupid for sure, like, I don’t know, literature—and then you’d beg me to room with you—“
chuuya laughed even louder, cutting dazai off. “how about we’d both study literature, you piece of shit. and more like the opposite. i would say no to you rooming with me, but you’d always sneak in, so i end up allowing you to live with me anyways.”
“we’d be the type to fight over meaningless stuff, like what movie or show we’d watch that weekend, or what we’d eat for dinner.”
“who’d fight over trivial suff like that?” chuuya rolled his eyes, a lazy grin never leaving his face.
“well, we would, like normal people,” dazai argued back. “i wouldn’t have to sneak in your penthouse every time i wanted to annoy you. i could just walk in and announce that i’m home.”
chuuya looked contemplative at that statement, grin slowly fading, red hair sprawled on the ground, blending in with the blood-stained dirt. it reminded dazai of one of his earliest missions with chuuya, the two of them sprawled on the grass just like this, exhausted, except the blood on their clothes and skin and the grass wasn’t their own. they had ended up falling asleep there, and he had ended up waking up to a chuuya wrapped in his arms. then and even now, chuuya looked beautiful, the moonlight highlighting his best features, brightening his eyes even more, even if there were bruises and blood on his face, even if this chuuya looked a lot more worse for wear than the chuuya from years ago. but it didn’t matter, because chuuya looked like a god—is a god—no matter what.
“home, huh?” he murmured. “i like the sound of that.”
“can i kiss you?” dazai asked, impulsive and breathless and aching, not even thinking of the consequences like he always did, hands shakily reaching towards chuuya’s face.
chuuya’s eyes widened just a fraction—and dazai doesn’t know if it was the moon or his imagination, but they shone brighter than the all the stars in the night sky—before he turned away from dazai and laughed.
it rung throughout the dark, endlessly and full of mirth, and dazai felt quite stupid for ever asking, before chuuya stopped, and just as breathless, said a simple “yes, dumbass.”
it was probably the worst first kiss in the history of first kisses.
chuuya tasted like blood and dirt and impending death, and yet he made dazai feel much more alive than anything else could ever have.
they broke apart, gasping for air, neither having the energy to move anymore.
“after all those times you’ve begged someone to commit double suicide with you, i guess this is it, huh,” chuuya said, a tiny yet pleased smile on his face, hand reaching for the gaping wounds on his chest, head leaning on dazai’s shoulder.
“i suppose. i wish i got to kiss you more,” dazai sighed, hands mirroring chuuya’s action on his own wounds.
“maybe later, i’m too tired now,” chuuya hummed, his other hand sluggishly reaching for dazai’s own. chuuya’s hands were still soft, even with dirt and scratches covering it, and if dazai ignored the sticky and drying blood on both of their bodies, if he ignored the way chuuya’s breathing a bit more slowly than before, if he ignored the fact that he too was dying, they could’ve both just been two normal people on their first date after making out for the first time, waiting for the sun to rise, together.
it was at this moment where dazai realised that he, in fact, did not want to die. not yet, not with chuuya dying next to him too. regret bubbled in his chest. he wanted to kiss chuuya more and mean it. he wanted to take chuuya on dates in special parts of the city that only he knew. he wanted to go on a date with chuuya in some dingy arcade, the same thing they had done when they were fifteen, when they had first met, and maybe he’d even purposely let chuuya win some of the games. he wanted fancy dinner dates in chuuya’s penthouse that he always proclaimed was ugly but wasn’t really because chuuya really did have a good eye for the finer things in life. he wanted to see chuuya scrunch his nose and hum sappy love songs whenever he cooked. he wanted to see if chuuya still had that ugly dog apron he had gifted him for his seventeenth birthday, he wanted to grow old with chuuya, to see yokohama thrive together. he wanted...
“you know,” chuuya whispered, breaking him from his thoughts. “i’ve been thinking about things.”
“thinking about what?”
chuuya didn’t respond, and dazai felt panic rise in his chest. chuuya couldn’t be dead yet, he couldn’t, he was always so strong and it was always supposed to be dazai first—
“you know,” chuuya continued, as if he didn’t scare dazai half out of his wits (and he could feel himself breathe again, knowing that he could spend an extra couple of minutes with the person he lives for). “if you had asked me to run away with you, four years ago, what do you think i would’ve said?”
that wasn’t what dazai was expecting, but the look on chuuya’s face was pleading, as if he wanted an honest answer, and dazai didn’t want to lie anymore, not to anybody, and especially not to chuuya.
“i think you would’ve said no.” if chuuya wanted an honest answer, an honest answer he shall receive. it made sense too; everyone knew how much chuuya had hated dazai all those years ago.
chuuya laughed, much more gentle and wheezing than before. “no, i think… i think i would’ve said yes. how strange, you know. i had always hated you so much back then, but i think i would’ve said yes anyways.”
the soft “why” slipped from dazai’s lips before he could stop it, and with the small “o” chuuya’s mouth made, it seems as if he wasn’t expecting it either.
“i don’t know,” he admitted, fiddling with dazai’s fingers. “maybe i wanted to do something for myself for once, instead of doing shit for other people. you know, i never had a choice in anything in my life.” there was a wistful sigh. “or maybe i’m just being stupid.”
“okay then, how about this?” dazai said impulsively, gently tugging his fingers from chuuya’s grip.
chuuya lifted his head to look at dazai, questioning.
“do you want to run away with me?” he finished, extending the same hand, meaning for chuuya to take.
chuuya merely sighed softly, putting his head back on dazai’s shoulder, grabbing the extended hand. “like there ever was an option, shitty mackerel.”
“is that a yes?”
“that’s an obviously, dumbass.”
“so where do you want to go?”
“i’ve never been to greece before,” chuuya stated, as if they truly were just thinking of a getaway plan. how funny, to think they’d both find reconciliation in their dying moments. “i heard their wine and coffee were good. what about you?”
“then i’ll take you to greece,” dazai answered, voice faltering, an emotion he hasn’t felt since odasaku swelling inside his chest. “i’ll take you to greece right now and everywhere else you’ll want to go, and i’ll follow you. i’ll follow you anywhere and everywhere.”
“promise?”
“of course.”
chuuya’s eyes closed, and he sighed again. “promise to never leave me?”
“i promise,” dazai whispered into chuuya’s hair. “i promise with my whole being never to leave again.”
“i’ll hold you to that, shitty dazai.“
“don’t go,” slipped from his mouth, futile and longing. it had always been that way for him, chasing after something that he could never attain, whether it be death (how ironic, giving that he was dying this exact moment) or odasaku, and now chuuya. he had always thought chuuya was out of reach, always a bit too high for him to grab, and so he didn’t try, always lurking around, full of interest and none of the determination. but now, but now, it was a little bit too late for that.
“i’m still here, don’t worry, stupid.”
but it sounded weak and uncertain, even to his own ears, as if chuuya too knew he was going to go soon.
“hold me?” chuuya whispered, eyes flickering. the “until I’m gone” was left unsaid. it was the most vulnerable dazai has ever seen him, and his heart sank.
“of course,” dazai whispered back, trying his best to gather chuuya into his shaking arms, a distant parallel to a mission long ago. desperation was never a good look on him, because it was never him who was desperate. it was never him who had to beg. but now, he’d beg god a hundred times over if he could spend more time with chuuya, whether it’d be an extra minute or some extra years. “i’ll always say yes to you. now and forever.”
there were no tears. there were never any tears for people in their field; they always knew they were going to die one day or another. but not like this, dazai thought to himself. never like this. chuuya was supposed to be invincible, but even the strongest people have weaknesses. dazai was chuuya’s, and chuuya was dazai’s.
the two of them laid on the soft grass together, neither saying anything else, because there really was nothing left to say, with only the soft breaths of the other person for comfort. dazai tried to ignore how labored chuuya’s breaths had become.
“osamu.” it was barely a murmur, but dazai jolted at the sound of his given name, turning to face chuuya. no one had ever called him by “osamu” before, not mori, not odasaku, not anybody. he had no emotional connection to that name, but it had sounded nice coming from chuuya, and he wished he could’ve heard it more.
“what is it, chuuya?”
“nothing. i just wanted to say.... i just wanted to say i love you before i go. you’re the first person i’ve ever said that to, so you better appreciate it.”
“i,” dazai hesitated, even though he shouldn’t have needed to. “i love you too. and i always will. i love you like how the sky loves the sea; i love you like how us humans love the stars, the moon, and outer space; and i love you like how you love me. i’ll remember it for as long as i live, deep in my heart, even if you’ll never see. you just have to trust me.”
“as long as you live, huh? i’m glad,” chuuya smiled, soft and satisfied. “and i’ll trust you to come find me in our next life.” it was phrased as a demand, not a question, and dazai would’ve almost laughed if he didn’t feel like choking on the overwhelming ache in his chest.
“i will, chuuya, i will. i promise. as i said before, i promise to never leave you again, right?”
dazai says “i will” because humanity depends on it, people living and reliving, dying and re-dying, building memories and building societies. dazai says “i will” because there’s a part of him that wishes they’ll both be born human in their next life, not as a god, not as a demon, but truly purely human. dazai says “i will” because only then would they be able to live out their dreams the way they had planned. dazai says “i will” because for once in his entire life, he doesn’t know what the outcome would be, and he’s scared for what’s to come.
chuuya huffed, eyes still sparkling with that intensity he’s come to love, even at the hands of death. maybe it was arahabaki, or maybe it was just chuuya himself, adverse under any condition. or maybe it was just love talking, but that wasn’t too bad either.
“again, i’ll hold you to that.” it was barely even a whisper, but dazai heard it loud and clear, reverberated throughout the empty field and through himself too.
“wait for me,” dazai pleaded. “in our next life.”
“of course. as if i could ever deny you.”
“and i, you.”
chuuya’s eyes slowly snapped shut after that statement, his arm going limp against dazai’s own, but the light peaceful smile still present on his face sort of made up for it, in a grotesque kind of way, and no matter how much he wanted to believe chuuya was just asleep, deep in dazai’s heart, he knew that chuuya wasn’t going to wake up this time. but it didn’t matter, not to dazai anymore, because chuuya is alive, in another place he’d have to discover. in fact, they’ll discover it together, because that’s what partners do.
“look chuuya,” dazai spoke to nobody in particular, since everybody else who had truly mattered to him had already parted from this life, his mouth against chuuya’s hair, trying to breathe in chuuya’s scent one last time before he too finally leaves, his eyes drooping. the sun was just starting to rise, turning the sky a pretty lavender, with splashes of baby pinks and blues, covering everything in a sheen of gold. a start of a new day. “look at how vibrant and beautiful the sunrise is. but i think you’re more vibrant, with the way you thrum with life all the time. and i definitely think you’re more beautiful.”
and dazai osamu wastes his last breath on whispering “i’ll take you to greece, chuuya. i promised, didn’t i? so please, please wait for me.”