Chapter Text
Dazai had always prided himself on his ability to keep up a composed appearance.
It was probably top three among his extensive list of better qualities, seeing as his practiced facade concealed any and every emotion - or whatever sorry excuse for them Dazai felt, dear reader - behind falsely bright eyes and an inviting smile.
He’d been holding his breath for seventy two, seventy three seconds now, and the smile hadn't slipped once.
A dozen cameras flashed, a thousand tiny pinpricks of light exploding behind Dazai’s eyelids each time he blinked.
Beside him, Sasaki sidled closer, draping herself over his arm. Dazai was grateful for the black suit jacket he wore, unsure of how he’d currently be able to cope with her bare skin on his.
Stilettos enabled her to be taller than usual, leaving Dazai slightly miffed that he wouldn't be able to rest his chin on the top of her head the way he usually did.
Although maybe it was a blessing that she wasn’t physically able to get that close to him, Dazai mused, feeling his lungs burn from the strain, since his time was about up.
Taking a shallow breath through his nose, Dazai braced himself for the onslaught of perfumed jasmine and pine. The scent Sasaki wore hit him like a truck, making his head swim and leaving him feeling borderline intoxicated.
If Dazai had had any less self control, dear reader, he would’ve yanked his arm away harshly.
But since he was the epitome of grace, he yanked his arm away ever so gently before stepping away, lifting long fingers to wave at the cameras instead so that the action wouldn’t draw too much negative attention.
Sasaki shot him a wounded look from under perfectly coiffed charcoal bangs, but Dazai was too busy breathing in lungfuls of crisp evening air that hadn’t been contaminated by her perfume to bother.
The next guest arrived at the premiere, a man with the tips of his hair dyed white stepping out of a sleek car, coat billowing across the red carpeted outdoor entryway.
Dazai had never had much respect for Akutagawa, but he was very careful not to let the relief show on his face as all the cameras were instantaneously pointed towards the new arrival.
Before he knew it, Sasaki was back at his side again, emerald silk skirts sweeping across the floor as they were ushered into a grandiose room chock full of paparazzi.
Dazai suppressed a shudder, feeling like a piece of bloody meat that had just been dropped into shark infested waters.
Not a bad analogy, since one of the wretched reporters had already sunk their teeth into Sasaki and was in the process of shoving a camera into his face.
‘Sasaki Nobuko! Congratulations on the movie! With ‘The Azure Apostle’s prospective earnings, we’re all excited to view your debut acting performance alongside co-star Akutagawa Ryuunosuke.’, the man positively gushed, limp blond hair falling across one of his eyes.
‘Thank you, I’m honored to have had the opportunity to work alongside him-’, Sasaki started, quiet words falling sweetly from glossy lips before she was rudely interrupted.
‘Ah, of course!’, the reporter exclaimed. ‘You’re here tonight with your boyfriend, actor and model Osamu Dazai, whom many have attributed to providing you with the opportunity to play such a prestigious role for your first ever performance. Dazai, any comments?’
Dazai felt his skin crawl, the tie around his neck suddenly constricting his windpipe. He cast an apologetic look at Sasaki for having unintentionally hijacked her interview.
‘While I realize I may be a bit biased-’, Dazai replied, a playful lilt in his tone, ‘-Sasaki truly is one of the most talented individuals I have had the pleasure of meeting. I assure you, her dedication to the role was what earned her the position, my influence had nothing to do with it.’
The reporter hummed thoughtfully. ‘Dazai, your photoshoot under Mori Ougai with Sasaki helped promote the movie immensely. What are your thoughts on her role as the Azure King's lover?’
Dazai felt his patience run thin as the microphone was pushed further into his personal space. While Sasaki’s countenance remained carefully blank, he knew her well enough to pick up on the subtle shift in her demeanor that indicated her annoyance matched his.
‘Why don’t you ask her?’, he replied coolly. ‘After all, she was the one who played the part.’
The interviewer cleared his throat awkwardly. ‘Right. Yes, of course.’
Dazai had noticed the room slowly accumulating new guests and reporters as the conversation wore on. The already stuffy space was starting to seem borderline claustrophobic, which only served to worsen Dazai’s lightheadedness.
The reporter was asking Sasaki some baseless questions about her attire, a strapless deep green evening dress which brought out her eyes. While she looked stunning, the interviewer could not have picked a more inconsequential topic to discuss, which was why Dazai had no qualms unabashedly interrupting his obsolete tirade of words.
Holding his breath again, Dazai leaned down so he could whisper into Sasaki’s ear. He noted again that she was taller when he didn’t have to lean as far as he usually did, the unpredictability of the situation only serving to spike his irritation.
‘I’m going to head to the restroom. I’ll meet you at the theater, hm?’
She grabbed his wrist as he turned, and Dazai fought the urge to shake free of her hold.
‘But the interview isn’t finished yet…’, she said, trailing off and dropping his hand.
Dazai sighed, pressing a quick kiss to her temple.
‘Sorry, I just need some air.’, he said, not waiting for her reaction before he strode away.
- To be honest, dear reader, it was more of a mad dash for the door than a dignified stride, but to say that Dazai’s perception of himself was slightly disillusioned would be an understatement. -
As Dazai scanned the adjoining room for any signs for the restroom, he felt himself grow more frantic.
Nails dug into the palms of his hands, the bustling crowd around him blurring as he tried to keep his breathing steady.
Someone tapped his shoulder.
Dazai whirled around, unsteady on his feet, only for him to come face to face with another camera.
‘Dazai Osamu! Are you here tonight to support your girlfriend?’, the reporter attached to it exclaimed, and Dazai was left teetering on the verge of yelling at the man till one of them was crying.
- And judging by Dazai’s current emotional state, dear reader, it most probably would have been him. -
He had just managed a weak nod before the reporter’s attention mercifully shifted, and he was now enraptured by someone behind Dazai, practically salivating for an interview like a shark to fresh blood.
Whoever this person was, Dazai now considered them his own guardian angel, the personification of everything good and right in this world, and he was ready to practically fall to their feet thanking them-
‘Akutagawa Ryuunosuke!’
Or not.
Shaking off the mortification that came with being saved by Akutagawa of all people twice in an evening, Dazai finally caught sight of the sign for the men’s room.
This time, even Dazai couldn’t deny that he bolted for the door.