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this isn’t how it was supposed to happen.
no.
chuuya was supposed to break dazai out, per mori’s instructions (and his own free will, but he’d never admit that), and they were supposed to return to base, safe and unscathed.
who knew the hunting dogs had predicted his every move and prepared so much backup?
gifted backup, no less.
and now, there he was.
powerless, pointing a gun at the bandaged man’s chest.
he couldn’t bring himself to look at dazai’s expression, but he knows that it would be one of disinterest. indifference.
at least he would be helping dazai accomplish his wish, he thinks, choking out a pained chuckle, before quickly sobering up again.
chuuya closes his eyes, unwilling to look at what he was about to cause. "i'm sorry, you bastard... dazai . fuck.”
and he pulls the trigger.
dazai falls to the ground. soundlessly, like a cloth doll. blood spurting out, like stuffing bursting out of broken seams.
he smiles.
he should’ve expected this. or well, he did. he had thought of the possibility. but he didn't want to believe that his ex-partner, his partner, the man he loved , would dare to hurt him. he had simply hoped that chuuya would find a way out of this situation. but he severely misjudged chuuya, it seemed.
maybe it was stupid to believe chuuya ever cared.
“i love you, nakahara. if only it didn’t have to end like this.” dazai whispers into the night air, which was filled with the smell of his blood. yearning for his feelings to reach chuuya, before it was too late.
yet chuuya’s eyelids were tightly shut (and, well, filled with tears). he couldn’t hear anything. or feel anything at all, to be honest.
the only thing he could feel was the weight of the gun in his trembling palm.
maybe this was all a bad dream.
but, the moment dazai crumples to the ground, chuuya shakes himself awake.
looking down at the gun in his hand and the body of the man he loves with his whole heart twisted on the ground, he knew what he had done.
how could he? how could he have turned on the only person who had his back? what had he done?
"i never got to tell him i love you." is the only thought reverberating in chuuya's mind, as he was pulled away from the body by tetchou and tachihara, barely registering their hands on him, his eyes glued to dazai. "fuck."
that night, in his cell, chuuya lay awake, tears still clinging onto his face.
he had screamed himself hoarse, banging on the walls. asking to see dazai.
dazai always has a plan. he can’t be dead. they’re just playing a cruel joke on me...
convinced of this, he slips into an unsettling rest.
chuuya dreamt.
under the moonlit sky, dazai smiled at him, standing a distance away from him.
a distance too much.
“DAZAI! fuckin dazai! COME BACK!” he tried running towards him, but his legs couldn’t move. they just wouldn’t. no matter how he forced them to, he was frozen in place.
chuuya was hyperventilating now. dazai looked so goddamned etheral just standing there, the moon shining on his back. his face looked so relaxed and at peace.
yes, dazai was alive, he was—
chuuya continued to yell his name desperately. yet, dazai didn’t react, despite the ear-splitting screams coming from the ginger.
“FUCK, FUCK, I LOVE YOU, FUCKING DAZAI. I LOVE YOU.”
hearing this, dazai finally moved.
his smile grew even wider, and his whole face lit up.
then, he was thrown back suddenly by an invisible force.blood started blossoming out from a hole on his waistcoat, like paint in water. dazai looked down at the wound, then back up at chuuya—
his eyes empty once more.
chuuya was hit with realisation. “OH GOD NO, DAZAI, NO, NO, NO, FUCK, DON’T—”
and in a flash of beige, he was gone.
“oh.” chuuya jolts up, his face wet, shaking. “he is gone.”