Archive of Our Own

   "What is living? What do humans live for? What will they die for? How shall they give up? If I were to understand that, will I understand what a human being feels? Their motivations? Their passions? Will I finally feel human? Feel their burning desire to live?"

   "...you think about that shit way too hard. You're a human. That's it." 

   "Chuuya thinks about it, though."

   "...yeah, cause..."

   "...Chuuya is obnoxiously human."

   "What, do you want to study the only non-human you know to find the meaning of life? You're a dumbass."

   "I want to study Chuuya. I want to know his thoughts, his feelings, his hopes, his dreams... I want to know every little detail."

   "Tch- At that point you might as well just take my brain, bastard."

   "You are my dog... your brain already belongs to me!"

   "God- you are the most insufferable piece of-"

   "So...? What goes on in Chibi's tiny little brain? I want to know his dreams!"

   "You're gonna have to play nice if you actually want an answer, Dazai."

   "Chuuya, light of my life, tiniest man to ever punch me in the face and knock my lights out, what are your hopes and dreams?"

   "...good enough. I want... to be a normal human. Live a normal life. Oh- and taste all of the wine the world has to offer."

   "That's so boooring!"

   "Oi- quit whining, drama queen! You wanted to know, didn't you??"

   "So Chuuya just wants... to live?"

   "Yeah."

   "Hm... I think Chuuya will live his human life just fine!"

   When Dazai got a phone call from Chuuya, of all people, in the middle of the night, he had this sinking feeling that something was very, very wrong.

   "Does the doggy miss his owner~?" Dazai sang into his speakerphone.

   "God, Dazai, this is- FUCK- not the time!" Chuuya's strained voice yelled through the phone. "You- my apartment, now."

   The brunette frowned. "I do hope you know that I don't like you like that."

   There was a groan. "God dammit- nevermind, fuck you, I'll just die here." And with that statement that quite literally felt like a slap to the face, Chuuya hung up on him.

   ...the next thing he knew, he was knocking on Chuuya's door.

   "Chuuuuya?" He called out. There was a crash from the inside, a groan, and then another crash, and then Chuuya was opening the door, hair a mess, blood streaming down his face, and really just looking like he had just fought a war and won.

   "Oh. You actually showed up." The redhead looked somewhat surprised.

   Dazai smiled. "Well, Chuuya said he was going to die, so I wanted to see what he meant by that!"

   Chuuya's face went through maybe five different emotions at once, before settling on exhaustion. "...why did I expect you to actually-" He shook his head. "Leave. Before I-" His arm spasmed, and for a second, Dazai could've sworn he saw a flash of red go across his skin. “Fuck- just... leave, mackerel.”

   The brunette stepped closer, leaning down slightly. "...Chuuya, why did you call me?"

   "I don't know, and I really regret it, so if you could just leave-"

   "No. I’m here now, and I want to know why you called me. You could’ve called anyone else, but you called me." His face went to one of neutrality that Chuuya probably knew all too well. "You don't like me. You make a point to tell me, every time you see me. So why would you call me?"

   The ginger sighed. "You aren't gonna let this go, are you, bastard?" When he got no response, he sighed, and continued. "I couldn't call anyone else."

   Okay. That was... not the answer he was expecting.

   "You couldn’t?" He tilted his head.

   Chuuya shook his head, gripping the doorframe harder. If he wasn't careful, he was going to break it. "No, I couldn't. Any more stupid questions or are you gonna fucking help me?" He spat.

   "Chuuya is being cryptic, but... since he wants my help oh-so ba-"

   "Great." The shorter interrupted, grabbing the taller's arm and yanking him inside of the apartment with a surprising amount of force.

   As Chuuya dragged him across the apartment, Dazai looked around at the chaos around him. Things were lying everywhere, there was a smashed table in the middle of what Dazai remembered was the living room, and there was what a normal person would consider an alarming amount of blood smeared on the walls.

   Finally, Chuuya stopped in the kitchen, which seemed like the only area untouched by destruction, and after a moment of hesitation, let go of Dazai's arm. They stood there, in the dark, in awkward, tense silence, before Chuuya's eyes widened, and he spun around to face away from the detective in his kitchen before doubling over and coughing.

   Dazai saw blood.

   "...Chuuya, are you sick?” Dazai questioned. “I can see the blood, slug."

   Nothing, besides the redhead's shaking and coughing.

   "Chuuya needs to go to a hospital." The brunette said flatly. "He should’ve called emergency services instead of calling me."

   Chuuya turned back around, scarily slow, the light of the moon reflecting off of the redhead's figure in almost nightmare-like angles, and Dazai stepped back despite himself.

   Corruption.

   Chuuya's face was aglow with red tendrils snaking up his neck, curling up on his cheeks and forehead to make a familiar pattern. A smile stretched across his face, and he stepped closer.

   Dazai stepped back again. Why was Chuuya using Corruption now?

   Chuuya... no, the god's head tilted to the side, a smirk on its face, like it was asking him if he was surprised.

   "I'd say I'm more... annoyed." Dazai spoke carefully, hoping that he was right in his assumption. "Do you mind enlightening me as to why this is happening?"

   'Chuuya' smiled wider, still silent. Its head dropped down, and an arm raised up into the air jerkily. It was a movement he recognized from his time as Chuuya's partner. High pitched laughter invaded his ears, and 'Chuuya's' eyes were filled with a manic glee.

   Dazai narrowed his eyes. "So this is why he called me."

   The god didn't speak, just smiling eerily at him. Its head cocked to the side, almost as if it were challenging Dazai, asking him what he was going to do. He could see the beginnings of a dark orb forming in the raised arm, and finally, after a moment of indecision, he encased Chuuya in a tight hug, closing his eyes and refusing to look at whatever would come next.

   The redhead's muscles untensed slowly, and Dazai could feel a shaky sigh come out of the smaller's body. "Fuck..." Chuuya breathed out.

   "What did you do?" The brunette asked, his eyes still squeezed shut.

   "Got hit by an ability." Chuuya grumbled, coughing. "Figured that's why this is happening. Hoped your stupid ability would solve this, but I was wrong."

   Silence.

   "...what, no 'oh, but Chuuya is always wrong!' for me today?" The ginger snarked.

   "...you'll die." Dazai spoke softly. "If I let go, if I leave right now, you'll die here."

   The executive laughed dryly. "Tch. Wouldn’t be the first time you left, would it?" He said sarcastically. "I think I've gotten used to it."

   Ouch. Dazai's traitorous heart squeezed in his chest.

   "..." The bandaged detective thought carefully. On one hand... Chuuya had actually been desperate enough to call the one person he hated the most in the world. That meant that the situation was dangerous enough for Chuuya to have no other choice but to call Dazai. On the other hand...

   Neither of them knew the parameters of this ability. Besides the fact that Dazai most likely had to nullify it through the original user, they really didn't know much else. They didn't know whether the ability could just run its course by itself, or if it was a type of curse that ravaged the body until it was dead.

   ...hopefully it was the former, and not the latter.

   And... something about this made him upset. Particularly the part about Chuuya dying.

   He sighed. "Well, we're going to be stuck together until the foreseeable future, so Chuuya better start talking." He opened his eyes, annoyed. "I don't want to be stuck with such a brain-dead slug without knowing everything about his situation." When Chuuya started to protest, Dazai shushed him. "Shhh. I'm not happy about this either. Buuut, unless you want to die, I need to keep holding onto you, hm?"

   Chuuya's face settled into one of exhausted resignation. "God- fine." He muttered. "Can you stop hugging me? We can, I dunno, hold hands or some shit?"

   Dazai pulled back, still keeping his hands on Chuuya's shoulders. They stared at each other, and then the brunette's cheeks puffed up. 

   "Pfft-" He snorted. "HAHA- if you wanted to hold my hand oh-so bad, you could've just asked!" He chuckled, clasping their hands together.

   Chuuya couldn't help the laugh that came out. "You're an idiot." He murmured, shaking his head as a soft smile stretched across his face. 

   "I am not going into work with you." Chuuya snarled. 

   "Chuuya would be much scarier if he wasn't barking like a little terrier while holding my haaand~" Dazai sang. "Besides, you have time off! I don't! And before Chuuya asks why I don't just ask for time off, I can't." They frowned. "Kunikida would kill me in cold blood!"

   "Okay, great?" The redhead retorted. "Its not my fault you don't do your fucking work!"

   "I don't know, I do think about you quite a lot..." The detective trailed off, their eyes meeting Chuuya's. "I think I can blame you a little bit..."

   "Oi! Cut the bullshit, bastard." He snapped. "You don't think about me at all."

   Dazai stared at him. "...yeah. Well, I need to go to work." They murmured. "Can Chuuya please come with me to the Agency? If Kunikida kills me, Chuuya dies too, remember?"

   "...shit." The executive cursed. "Fucking- fine. Whatever. Let's go."

   And that is how Chuuya Nakahara, executive of the Port Mafia, ended up getting stared at by the Armed Detective Agency as he glared back with Dazai's hand clasped in his own. Dazai had vaguely explained the situation, waving off most of the questions by reassuring their coworkers that Chuuya was "docile".

   Docile his god damn ass! Chuuya could beat the shit out of everyone here if he wanted to, dammit!

   ...but instead, he restrained himself, settling for just being seething mad in his chair. Because he was a calm, composed adult. A calm, composed mafia executive. And nothing could break his composure.

   Atsushi made the horrendous mistake of approaching the two of them, looking absolutely terrified when the murderous glare was refocused on him, but still powering through.

   "D-Dazai, we have a case..." Atsushi got out, putting the file on the desk. "A murder."

   Dazai raised an eyebrow. "Shouldn't that be for Ranpo? He is the smartest, after all!" They smiled. 

   "He's busy with... something. I'm not really sure what?"

   "Poe, I would only presume." The bandaged detective hummed. "Hm... Chuuya, would you like to go on a murder investigation?"

   "Do I have a fucking choice?" Chuuya spat out.

   Dazai, with a big smile on his face, turned back to the younger man, who had a strained smile on his face. "Okay! Shall we go?" 

   "Y-yeah..." Atsushi stammered, eyes darting between the two. "Um... Mr. Chuuya, are you... going to kill me?"

   He snorted. "You? No." The ginger's eyes darted towards Dazai. "This shitty mackerel, on the other hand..."

   If Atsushi thought that he and Akutagawa bickered a lot, he didn't think so now, after seeing these two. Even as they were walking, the two of them poked fun at each other, jabbing each other with creative insults.

   "Petite mafia."

   "Stuff-that-comes-with-the-bandages."

   "Slimy little slug."

   "Dumb stinky mackerel."

   Dazai gasped dramatically. "You take that back!"

   Chuuya rolled his eyes. "Sorry, you're actually a half-rotten fish that was left out for too long, and you smell so bad that even the racoons wouldn't eat a single bite of you."

   Silence. 

   "We're here!" Atsushi said, with as much gusto as he could manage. The two holding hands both turned to look at him at the same time, both with anger burning in their eyes. "Or, um... yanno what, I think I can handle this..."

   "No, they dragged me here so they could do their job, so they're going to do their damn job." Chuuya snarled, tugging at the brunette's hand. "Right, Dazai?"

   "Technically, we're both doing it, hm, Chuuya?" A sickly sweet smile was plastered on Dazai's face.

    This... was gonna suck. So bad. So bad. Atsushi would actually rather deal with Akutagawa, right now.

   ...needless to say, Dazai was given a few weeks of paid leave after that.

   "Mori has people looking out for that woman." Chuuya muttered. "The one who fucked me over."

   "Hm... Chuuya still hasn't told me everything about this lady..." Dazai said. 

   The redhead raised an eyebrow. "What, do you want me to describe her, or some shit? She was a brunette, and she threw a block at me when I wasn't paying attention. That's it."

   "And did Chuuya's file have anything about her in it?" They tilted their head.

   "Actually... no." Chuuya said. "The whole place was supposed to be uninhabited."

   "When did Chibi figure out something was wrong?"

   "An hour before I called you- are we playing twenty questions, or some shit?" The ginger snapped. "What are you doing?"

   "I was interrogating you, but now I think twenty questions will be more fun!" They smiled. "Why did you wait an hour?"

   "I was hoping it would go away by itself." Chuuya's voice was dripping with sarcasm. "Why did you decide to help me?" 

   Dazai shrugged. "You were going to die."

   "Why do I have a feeling that you're avoiding an actual answer?" He muttered. "Whatever. Are you happy in the Armed Detective Agency?"

   "Oh." A beat of silence. "...yes. Yes, I am."

   Chuuya stared at him for a moment, and Dazai could see their ex-partner bite at his bottom lip. "...that's good." He got out. "Glad you found a place you like."

   "..." Dazai stared at their hands, tied together by some cord. "...how is Chuuya feeling?" They asked softly, trying to divert his attention. 

   "Like shit." He grumbled. "What do you fucking think?"

   The detective cracked a small smile. "Well, he is stuck with me."

   "Yeah." Chuuya muttered. "...how are you feeling?"

   "Hm..." They looked thoughtful. "I feel..." They trailed off into silence. "...great!" They said, grinning. 

   The redhead narrowed his eyes, clearly not believing a word Dazai was saying. "...do you want to play a game?" The executive offered, hesitant. "I have some from when we were kids."

  Dazai looked up, stars in his eyes. "Chuuya! You didn't throw them away?"

  "Tch- I still play them, so why the fuck would I throw them away?" Chuuya said, amusement in his voice. "You wanna play or not?" 

   They ended up playing a fighting game, pulling at each other's hands to try and gain the upper hand. Dazai, much to their own chagrin, did lose a few rounds to Chuuya, who shoved the victory in his ex-partner's face every single time. ("Hah, I beat you, bastard!" "Chuuya cheated!" "Not anymore than you did!" "He only won because I let him win!" "Buuull shit! I won, so suck it up!")

   Of course, there was also... the major problem.

   The one that didnt have anything to do with Chuuya, really. 

   "Dazai- no, god dammit, stop doing that!" Chuuya grappled for a grip on the brunette’s other hand, which was scratching desperately at the bandages that were slowly getting more and more bloodstained.

   "Chuuya, let go, or I'm going to kill you!" Dazai spat back, yanking the other side of his body away from the ginger. "Let me have this, you stupid slug!"

   "No!" He yelled back. "You wouldn't dare kill me now." He snarled. "Not after all of this. Now give me your fucking hand!"

   "I bet that's what you thought when I left you behind in the Port Mafia, isn't it?" The brunette responded, words dripping with poison. "'He wouldn’t dare leave me behind!' I could do it again."

   Chuuya's eyes widened, and then anger flashed across his face. "...you fucking piece of shit."

   "Yes, that's what I am, dog. A piece of shit, no? A grotesque vagabond that you were happy to be parted with, right?" Dazai responded mockingly. "You would've been happy if I wound up dead in front of your door, wouldn't you, you sadistic little-"

   With a burst of strength, Chuuya yanked at Dazai's other hand, and finally wrestled it into his other hand, gripping the smaller hand so tight that he could probably break it right then and there.

   "You're a fucking ass, you know that?" The ginger snarled. "And a god damn hypocrite. You were the one who decided that I couldn't fucking drink myself to death, and you were the one who always oh-so-motherfucking-carefully put me back in bed. But when I decide that I don't want you to bleed out in my own fucking apartment, you get all pissy? Fuck you!"

   "I- you-" Dazai stammered. "You hate me! Why would you care what happens to me?" He tried again to yank one of his hands away, to no avail.

   "I could say the same to you, bastard! I care mostly because you're the only thing keeping me alive." A lie. He squeezed both of the bandaged brunette's hands tighter. "I have no god damn clue what your ulterior motives are for being this decent to me, but for some reason, I give a shit about you!"

   The detective's eyes widened, and then narrowed. "If you gave a shit, you would let go of my hand." He said, voice wavering slightly, trying desperately to keep it together. "Let go. I need this. I need this." He pleaded, desperation laced in his voice.

   "You know I can't do that. I'll do anything else." Chuuya responded. "Watch one of those shitty rom-coms you like, make you something to eat, I don't know. Just... not this."

   "...this is all your fault." Dazai spat out bitterly. "But fine. Chuuya can do whatever stupid thing he thinks will work."

   The redhead stared at him. "...what?" When the brunette made no further attempts to speak, Chuuya sighed. "God dammit, shitty Dazai, are you trying to make me so angry that I leave instead?"

   Dazai's eyes darted up to look at his, dark brown meeting bright blue, and then darted back down. "No." He said, a little too quickly, voice trembling ever so slightly.

   He sighed again. "I'm- we're going to the bathroom."

   "Why?"

   Chuuya looked down at the detective's arm. "I don't know if you have claws or some shit, but you're bleeding." He muttered. "I'm wrapping you up."

   "...why?"

   "Because I do, actually, have the capacity to care about you. And unlike you, I'm not just going to leave without a word." The redhead snarked. "C'mon, we're going."

   With much resistance, Chuuya managed to drag the uncharacteristically quiet brunette to his bathroom, and changed out the wrappings. As he did so, Dazai placed his other hand on Chuuya's knee, refusing to look at the other’s face.

   When all was said and done, Chuuya sat there, staring at his ex-partner. Dazai just... stared at the ground.

   "...are you going to keep staring at me, or are you going to punch me?" The brunette murmured. "I'd prefer it if you would get it over with."

   "Neither." Chuuya muttered. "I'm gonna hug you."

   That got his attention. "You- what-"

   The redhead leaned forward, and wrapped his arms around the brunette. Meanwhile, the detective was attempting to get in even a few words, sputtering as Chuuya continued to hug him.

   "You're an ass. And you smell like shit. But… thanks for being here, I guess." The ginger mumbled. "Good to know that you aren't just a selfish bastard."

   "...you're welcome.” Dazai mumbled back. "I guess. I'm s..." A beat. "...Chuuya smells nice."

   Chuuya rolled his eyes. "We've been using the same soap. I have no fucking clue why you still smell like you rolled around in garbage."

   The brunette pulled back. "...I was supposed to use your soap?"

   He groaned. "...oh my fucking god-"

   you can't stop me.

   One sip.

   you can't stop yourself.

   Two sips, three, and fuck the glass at this point.

   Chuuya downed as much as he could in one gulp.

   you're at my mercy, vessel.

   "Whatever." He muttered.

   he won't be able to save you in time.

   "...whatever."

   you both are idiots.

   Chuuya could feel the tendrils, the whispers calling for destruction wrapping around and nesting in his head. "Dazai is smart enough. He's gotten us out of plenty of shitty situations before."

   he's delusional. a "genius" can't save you from yourself.

   Another swig of wine.

   even if you burden our body with drunken weight, it won't stop you from losing control.

   It felt like he was being violently grabbed and dragged back into the dark crevices of his own mind. Like he was in chains, desperately grabbing for a handhold to keep him grounded, to keep him here, in control. This was his body, his body-

   see?

   He couldn't feel his legs. Chuuya stumbled, trying to keep his balance with only the help of his arms.

   you could destroy it all. we could destroy it all. you are we. i am you. i could kill that petty little human. you could kill him. you would kill him.

   His vision was fading, and fast. He needed... he needed to get back to the bed…

   let you kill him. you need to let you kill him. you need to kill for the sake of dying.

   He didn't... he didn't want to kill Dazai. He wasn't going to kill Dazai. He wasn't going to kill Dazai.

   Chuuya's hand swiped at the glass still on the counter, which fell to the floor with a-

   CRASH.

   Dazai's eyes shot open, and he sat up in alarm. He looked down at his hand, which was completely empty.

   "Shit- Chuuya!" He scrambled out of the bed, head whipping around as he went through the rooms in a panic.

   CRASH.

   Another crash. A scream. And Dazai got to the kitchen.

   Chuuya was stumbling on his feet, sobbing, fat tears coming down his face in streams. His mouth was open, screams unable to come out. His body seized, and he fell to the floor with a thud.

   It was a grotesque scene, Chuuya's facial expression turning from manic glee to fear to terror and then back to delight again as he shook on the floor, muscles working in ways that they absolutely shouldn't. There was a harsh, airy, hissing laugh that kept echoing through the air as Chuuya writhed on the ground, unable to control himself.

   Dazai reached forward and carefully placed his hand on the other man's head. The writhing ceased, and Chuuya just lay there, eyes unfocused and staring at nothing.

   "Chuuya? Hey, Chuuya, answer me-" Dazai cupped the redhead's cheek in his hand. His head lolled to the side, and Dazai's other hand shot forward to maintain contact.

   Chuuya just stared at him.

   "Chuuya, please say so-"

   "...I'm tired." He mumbled.

   "I- of course you are, slug, you were having a seizure on the floor." Dazai murmured.

   Chuuya stared at him, almost as if he was seeing into Dazai's very soul. "...You're right." He rasped out. "You're right about the... fucking dying thing..."

   Dazai's blood ran cold. "...what?"

   "..." Chuuya didn't respond, just turning his head the other way.

   "Chuuya..." 

   A dry laugh bubbled out of the redhead's chest. "At least this means I'm human." He muttered. "Humans die."

   "You aren't dying yet, Chibi." Dazai said flatly.

   Chuuya smiled, tired and sardonic. "Not even you can stop death, genius."

   "Hey, Dazai? Get your ass over here really quick." Chuuya called.

   The bathroom door opened, and then Dazai was there, grabbing his hand again. "Iiis everything okay?" He leaned forward, looking into the sink. "No blood... and Chuuya looks fine... oh."

   Chuuya's hand fell away from his face, and under it...

   "...but I'm holding Chuuya's hand." Dazai murmured, disbelieving. "This is certainly interesting."

   Corruption. But... not? 

   "I feel fine." Chuuya muttered. "So I don't know why the fuck this is here."

   The brunette reached up, using his other hand to brush some of the hair out of Chuuya's face. "There aren't any other marks, either." He poked at the mark, frowning when it didn't disappear. "In my expert opinion, I don't think this is good. Did Mori give you an update on that ability user?"

   Chuuya shook his head. "No, Boss just said something about cornering her, and I didn't hear anything else- have you been doing my paperwork?" He asked. "The boss mentioned something about my paperwork looking weird."

   Dazai stared at him, deadpan. "Chuuya has his corruption marks that won't go away, and he's worried about who's doing his paperwork?"

   "We can't do anything about this shit anyways!" The redhead retorted. "You can't nullify it, and I have no fucking clue when it even showed up!"

   "I feel as though Chuuya should be more concerned about the mark on his face that I can't nullify, but yes, I have." The detective rolled his eyes. "Now, can I check Chuuya for any more marks?"

   "You shouldn't be doing my work, bastard. You have your own." Chuuya grumbled as Dazai meticulously checked his arms for any markings. "Isn't your new partner always yelling at you for not doing your work, anyways?"

   "Hm... but Kunikida doesn't have to be in physical contact with me for long hours of the day, does he?" Dazai cheerily responded, ducking down to look at his legs. "There's no more marks!" He reported. 

   "That's good, I guess." He sighed. "I really hope this shit gets resolved soon."

   Dazai just bobbed his head slowly in response.

   "Is there anything Chuuya wants to do?"

   Chuuya looked up from his paperwork. "Specifically?" He thought for a moment. "...this is gonna sound really stupid."

   Dazai raised an eyebrow. "More stupid than normal?"

   "Incredibly, I now no longer want to tell you." The executive muttered, looking back down at his paperwork.

   "Chuuuyaaa~!" The brunette whined. "C'mon, pleaaase~?"

   Chuuya sighed. "Asshole. Fine. Do you remember the dandelion field?"

   Dazai blinked in surprise. "The one you fell on?"

   The redhead nodded. "That one. I would want to go there."

   The detective covered their mouth, trying to stifle a laugh. "Out of all places, Chuuya wants to go to a dandelion field from when we were teenagers?" They snickered. "I would've thought Chuuya wanted to go to a winery, or something!"

   "What’s so wrong about that?" Chuuya protested. "I like it there! I don't just like wine, asshole!"

   "Mhm... I'm surprised Chuuya even remembers it!" They chuckled. "It's been so long!"

   "I could say the same to you, bastard!" He retorted. "Why do you remember it?"

   "Chuuya looked ridiculous when he landed into the pile and the fluff went 'poof!' around him." Dazai gestured, spreading their one free arm out wide. "The dandelions were big compared to a little Chibi like you!"

   "Oi- I'm not that small, jackass!" He glared. "I'm just- below average, that's it!"

   "Pfft- right, right, my mistake." They trailed off, and then looked back at their ex-partner. "...shorty."

   "Oi!"

   "Why does- why does Chuuya remember it?" Dazai laughed, barely getting the words out. 

   Chuuya looked like he'd been caught off guard. "I- well..." He looked down at his paperwork, as if that could give him the answers. "You- Because I- ...you don't need to know that."

   Dazai leaned in closer. "Chuuuuyaaa~ are you embarrassed about something?" 

   The executive couldn't stop his cheeks from going red. "I-I- no!" He protested. "Why the fuck would I be-"

   A memory. A memory of joy, happiness, and a little bit of ridiculousness. They remembered laughter, too-bright smiles, and then-

   ...Dazai didn't remember the rest of that day. They frowned. 

   "...I don't remember." They muttered. "Why don't I..." There was something they were forgetting. Something very important. 

   "Why were you asking, anyways?" Chuuya asked, trying to regain his composure. 

   Dazai looked at him, searching for some kind of hint, a clue in the freckled face of the mafia executive that could lead them to remembering something he forgot. "I..." They started, brows furrowed. "...was bored. And wanted to go somewhere. Somewhere that was special to Chuuya."

   "Well, if you really want to go there, then sure." Chuuya shrugged. "I haven't been in a while."

   Chuuya smiled, laughing as he watched the dandelion seeds float into the air, and then drift away, some landing on him and tickling his face. 

   He sat up after a moment, looking over at his partner, and-

   "Pfft- hahaha!" Dazai was laughing, a boyish sort of joy that rarely showed itself. Dandelion seeds were nestled in his fluffy brown hair, and Chuuya couldn't help but laugh with him, cheeks rosy.

   As he stared at his partner, in this rare moment of carefree happiness, he had a realization, one that stunned him, and shocked him into silence.  

   Chuuya... he...

   "Chuuuya~ we're here!" Dazai's voice pulled the ginger out of his memories. "I have to say, its much bigger now! Unlike a certain slug..."

   "Huh." He blinked, completely ignoring the insult. "It is, isn't it?"

   Suddenly, there was a tug at his hand, and he was on the ground, Dazai laughing beside him.

   "Haha- your face is just as funny!" The detective said, smile on his face. "Chuuya looks so funny!"

   Chuuya stared at him for a moment, before his cheeks puffed up, and he started to laugh. "I could say- pfft- the same for you, mackerel!" His other hand, the hand not tied to Dazai's, lifted into the air, carefully picking dandelion seeds out of the brunette's soft hair. 

   "You look... actually nice with the seeds in your hair."

   Dazai blinked. "...really?" His hand rose up to touch his hair. "Heh- why, of course! I am quite handsome, after all! All of the ladies tell me so!"

   Chuuya groaned, rolling his eyes. "You just had to fucking ruin it, didn't you."

   The brunette snickered.

   The redhead leaned in close, and as the taller teen started to lean away, cheeks going very red, Chuuya lifted a hand, and started to pick at the seeds, pulling them off gently.

   "What... what are you doing, slug?" Dazai stammered out. 

   The shorter raised an eyebrow. "Making you less pretty, obviously. Now hold still, bitch."

   "Making me less pretty?" Dazai teased, wiggling his eyebrows in a way that he knew Chuuya absolutely despised.

   The redhead sighed good-naturedly, rolling his eyes. "Shut up, Osamu." He murmured. "Just be quiet for a minute. Unless... you can't do that?"

   The brunette shut his mouth, pouting as Chuuya methodically picked out the seeds in his ex-partner's hair.

   "...did Chuuya... really think I was pretty?" Dazai asked, soft and quiet, almost as if he was afraid of the implications the question could bring. 

   Chuuya paused. "...do you not remember the rest of that day?" 

  "No? Why, was I supposed to?"

   The executive flushed bright red, brighter than his hair. "No, no- its... fine."

   "Awww- Chuuya thinks I'm pretty! Does he secretly have a crush on me?" Dazai teased, shit-eating grin on his face.

   "Shut up, or I swear I will shove my fist so far up your goddamn ass-"

   "You'd like that, wouldn't y-"

   "I said, shut up!" And with no time to think about how this could really just be a terrible, horrible idea, Chuuya grabbed Dazai's face, and...

   "...you passed out, anyways. Wimp." Chuuya muttered, pulling out another dandelion seed.

   The brunette stared at him, brown eyes calculating, clearly trying to remember anything about what happened, and then... realization dawned. 

   "Chuuya... kissed me." Dazai said, eyes widened in wonder. He remembered. 

   ...Chuuya kissed him.

   Dazai was frozen, eyes wide, and trembling slightly. His head was spinning, and whatever this was, whatever god was shining down on him today and allowing him this blessing, couldn't be real. It was like he was floating in the air, both attached and detached to his body at the same time. All he could feel was the beating of his own heart, too loud, so loud, and Chuuya's lips on his. And when Chuuya pulled away...

   All his traitorous mind could think about was Chuuya, Chuuya, only Chuuya, and a small part of him wanted another, wanted Chuuya's lips to meet his again, wanted to be given that little bit of love and trust again and again and again until he couldn't think about anything but Chuuya, Chuuya Nakahara, the boy in front of him with so, so much life inside of him.

   A bright blush appeared his cheeks, and before Chuuya could ask if he was okay, the taller teen's eyes rolled back into his head, and he flopped backwards into the field again.

   "...I did." The redhead looked away. 

   "Would he do it again?" Dazai blurted out, almost embarrassed at how quickly it came out. "I-I mean, would Chuuya... kiss me now? Would he want to?" His voice trembled, something that rarely could be heard in his voice. "Not right now, but..."

   Almost... fearful. Like whatever they had now wasn't enough, could never be enough quickly enough for them to at least be okay now. Like... he was hanging on this one string of stupid, delusional hope.

   A hope from long ago.

   "I-" Chuuya trailed off, looking at the sky. "I don't know." He murmured. "I don't know... how to feel about you yet, Dazai. I'm grateful you came, I'm grateful you're trying to help, but..."

   It's too soon. It's moving too quickly. I can't trust you with that yet.

   It was quiet. All that could be heard was the blowing of the wind. 

   "...of course." The brunette mumbled. He shifted, and when Chuuya finally looked back over at his ex-partner, his head was turned away.

   Silence, again. The type of silence where it was just too quiet, eerily silent. A minute went by, and then two, and then five minutes passed, and then the silence just got too much.

   "...hey." Chuuya squeezed the detective's hand. He startled, and his face turned momentarily to look back at the ginger. "Stop thinking. I can hear your stupid fish brain going at the speed of sound." 

   "...Chuuya is being too nice to me right now." He sighed, closing his eyes and turning his head fully to face the sky. "He's being weird."

   "I could say the same for you, mackerel." The redhead scoffed. "You actually thought to ask me where to go. That's weird. Normally, you just drag me somewhere without telling me where the fuck we're going."

   "We've been chained to your stupid apartment!" Dazai whined, tone becoming lighthearted again. "I can only hide so many bottles of Chuuya's wine..."

   Chuuya stared at him. "...you fucking what?"

   Dazai stared back sheepishly. "...Chuuya looks very nice with dandelion seeds in his hai-"

  "You bitch-" The executive lunged for the brunette, who yelped and tried to roll out of the way, his hand unfortunately still tethered to Chuuya's, which was not effective for his attempt at an impromptu escape. With Dazai successfully immobilized, Chuuya completed his awkward tackle, slamming into the other with probably more force than necessary. 

   "OW- Get oooff! Chuuya is so heavy!" The detective whined, squirming from under Chuuya. 

   Chuuya raised an eyebrow. "Yanno, trying to flatter me is going to get you zero steps from nowhere, genius. And you're just a wimp!"

   "Isn't Chuuya going to ask me how I brilliantly hid his wine bottles? I did it while holding his hand, too!"

  "What?"

   And so, with a grin on his face, Dazai began to explain his brilliant plot to see how good his ex-partner's observation skills were. 

   Chuuya was not amused. 

   The marks kept spreading, despite the nullifying effects of Dazai's touch.

   Neither of them wanted to admit it, but their combined dread hung over the both of them like the blade of a guillotine, the readied blade threatening to drop on them at any minute.

   All Chuuya could think about was how this was the worst way to go, his fate being manhandled by a traitor turned somewhat awkward friend. Having to be in constant contact with someone that he had thought about strangling for a couple of years wasn't really what how he wanted to spend his time. Especially since he had to depend on them to not kill him in the middle of the night. 

   Dazai was playing god, technically. Their hand was the hand of god, steering him away from excruciating death. It was annoying. Frustrating. He hated it. 

   Dazai... was being nice about it, though. Much nicer than they needed to be for this situation. That combined with their sudden weird development of being more caring than usual was kind of creeping him out, and he would've been completely convinced that it wasn't Dazai if it wasn't for the nullification.

   But... it was nice, he supposed. Dazai being caring. They were trying, he could see that they were. He just didn't know how to feel about it. Not yet. Not yet.

   Chuuya was definitely concerned by how Dazai started to do random acts of kindness throughout the weeks, even going so far as to whisper an apology in the silent hours of the night, when they thought he was asleep. At least... it meant they were sorry, just too afraid to actually say it to his face.

   And... they looked tired, like they hadn't been getting much sleep at all. They still teased him, kept up with the friendly banter (when had it become friendly again?), and lazed around like normal (napping, most of the time). Those naps were probably the only thing keeping them functioning, so Chuuya let them nap for as long as they could. 

   It should be concerning. It was concerning. But knowing Dazai... they would refuse to answer any questions about their shitty sleeping schedule. 

   As for Chuuya himself... he wasn't exactly sure, but his own energy levels had been getting lower and lower, like something was sapping away at them. 

   Meanwhile, Dazai... Dazai was out of their mind. Out of their mind with exhaustion and, strangely enough, stress. The red marks that were quickly spreading all over the executive's body felt like they were mocking them, their soft glow a reminder of how truly powerless they felt in this situation. Sure, if they hadn't arrived when they did, Chuuya would be long departed from this world. 

   It didn't mean much, though. As long as the ability user responsible was still out there, all the detective was really doing was delaying the inevitable. Buying time. Extending the redhead's lifespan by just a little bit. 

   They couldn't afford to make a mistake. This was Chuuya's life, after all, the life that was his dream to live, so...

   ...so they stayed awake. Every night. Watching, making sure that their ability didn't suddenly become ineffective on Chuuya, and they didn't wake up to the horrifyingly mangled corpse of their ex-partner bleeding from every orifice imaginable. 

   They did everything they could think of to stay awake that wouldn't wake up the sleeping man. Digging their nails into their arm (which wouldn't have worked anyways, their nails had been bitten down too far at this point), smacking themself, scratching at their arms, making their heart beat faster... but even so, they still passed out at some points in the night. 

   They refused to sleep unless Chuuya was awake, which meant napping during daylight hours. That way, the redhead could jolt them awake if anything happened. Unfortunately, this meant their sleeping hours were erratic and spread apart.

   Anyways, it was exhausting. More exhausting than usual. But they were going to do it, they were going to make sure that Chuuya was going to be at least okay at the end of this. 

   "Chuuya can't fight her!" Dazai snapped. "Chuuya will die, his body can't handle this now-"

   "I can't just fucking sit here and do nothing! Plus, you have to be there to nullify her ability anyways, moron!" Chuuya shot back. "You and I both know that something will go wrong!"

   The brunette made a small noise of frustration. "I know, but when have I ever been-"

   "Shut up!" He yelled. "God, just- can you shut up? You can't always be right. No one can! You should be there, and you can't make me a fucking liability for the people trying to catch her just because you've suddenly started worrying about me!"

   "I've always worried about Chuuya!" They gritted their teeth. "Who does he think took care of him while he was asleep after using Corruption? Who does he think carried him to extraction point, every time?" They shut their eyes tight, huffing before they continued, in a calmer tone. "I didn't want Chuuya to worry about me when I left, so I blew up his car. I wanted Chuuya to hate me so I could worry about him without-"

   "Are you fucking insane? Do you know how stupid you fucking sound?" Chuuya snarled. "I thought someone was trying to assassinate me, you goddamn piece of shit!" When Dazai's eyes widened, Chuuya laughed. "Yeah, didn't tell you, did I? I thought it was weird when I never got another attempt on my life, but I didn't think it was because you did it to make me fucking hate you! I was too busy thinking you were dead."

   "...Chuuya thought I was dead?" They muttered. "I didn't think..."

   "No, you really didn't fucking think, did you?" He spat. "After that I- I fucking thought it was because of me! I went through that last night we had together, the night you showed up at my apartment halfway to blackout drunk, and- I just kept fucking thinking about it, over and over and-" 

   "Chuuya..."

   "Being angry at you was easier." He whispered. "I had a job to do, and I couldn't spend my work days thinking about whether or not you were dead because of me." Chuuya laughed softly, shaking his head. "Look where that got me, huh? Look at us."

   "Chuuya." Dazai squeezed the redhead's hand. "I... I'm sorry. I should've told you. I wanted to tell you. I just..." Regret. "Chuuya always made it so clear that he hated me, even though we were... friends, so I thought he would be much happier if I left." 

   "Hah- that's why?" Chuuya asked, disbelieving. "Fuck, Osamu, I didn't- I mean, I did hate you, it was just..." He trailed off. "...I saw things that I despised about myself in you. And yeah, I fucking hated that, and I fucking hated that I had to see you on a daily basis. But, I don't know, you actually turned out to be kind of okay. You were nice enough when you wanted to be, and I guess I ended up liking you a little."

   Realization dawned on the detective's face. "...Chuuya thought I was going to tease him if he admitted that he didn't hate me anymore."

   "Yeah." Chuuya cracked a small smile. "We were little shits as teenagers, huh? Too focused on our jobs and our own stupid problems to do anything but be shitty to everyone and everything around us."

   Dazai nodded, smiling half-heartedly. "Yes, we were." They murmured. "But... I suppose if Chuuya had started being nice to me, I would've assumed he hit his head!" To emphasize their point, they bonked their head with their other hand.

   The executive snorted. "You always assumed that I hit my head when I was nice, dumbass." He stood up from his desk. "C'mon, it's getting late, and I'm fucking starving. What are you in the mood for?"

   "Chuuya isn't angry anymore?" Dazai tilted their head. 

   "I think we've hashed it out enough times over the past few weeks." The redhead conceded. "Besides, I don't think I have the energy to actively stay angry at you right now. If you annoy me enough at this point, I'll just smash a fucking bottle over your head to keep you quiet."

   The brunette gasped dramatically. "That's assault, slug!"

   "Whatever you say, Osamu-'138 counts of conspiracy to murder, 312 counts of extortion, and 625 counts of assorted fraud and other crimes'-Dazai." He rolled his eyes. "Now are you gonna tell me what you wanna eat, or am I gonna order you the absolute worst fucking thing I can think of?"

   Dazai sighed, and put the phone down. "Chuuya, they got her." They said. "She's being held at the Port Mafia's headquarters."

   Chuuya grinned, eyes sparking in a way that hadn't been seen much in the last couple of weeks. "That's fucking great! We should go right now-"

   "Can I... take a nap first?" The brunette yawned. "I don't have the energy to seduce a lady..."

   "You don't have to seduce-" The executive looked at the exhausted expression on his ex-partner's face, and his expression softened just a little. "...fine, go ahead and sleep a little, mackerel."

   Dazai smiled softly, flopping down onto the couch. "Thanks, chibi..." They mumbled, closing their eyes.

   "Whatever, dumbass." He muttered back, sitting down next to them. As he settled fully into the cushions of the couch, he sighed, bouncing his leg nervously. 

   This could go wrong. This could go so wrong, in so many different ways. He could die. Dazai could die. They could both die. They didn't know that much about this ability user, after all, and her fighting capabilities could be enough to separate him and Dazai, and then it would be over. Their strategies were limited, since they had to stay in physical contact at (mostly) all times, but-

   Dazai shifted, their head somehow finding its way into the redhead's lap. Their brow furrowed slightly, before they made a small noise of... discontent? unhappiness? before shifting again, wriggling themself closer to their ex-partner. "Wh-" Chuuya jolted, his train of thought interrupted. 

   ...god dammit.

   His other hand, the hand not currently being held, reached up, hovering over Dazai's fluffy brown hair. 

   ...did he want to do this? If he did this, it meant... it really meant that he was ready to move on, ready to let go of some of his anger and try to go for friendship again. Real friendship, not this... weird alliance that they had been keeping under life-or-death circumstances.

   Ah, fuck it. Dazai was asleep anyways, the bastard wouldn't know. Before he could convince himself otherwise, he placed his hand on Dazai's hair, carefully, softly, and started to comb his fingers through the other's hair. 

   This was nice. He could get used to this. He smiled softly, despite himself. This could be okay, they could be okay. Maybe not today, maybe not tomorrow, but maybe in a week, a month, a year, the two of them could be okay again.

   He continued to comb his fingers through the sleeping detective's hair. He would be okay with doing this again. 

   ...how had it all gone so wrong?

   All it had taken was a small, stupid trap. A small, stupid rope trap in a warehouse, and their connection was severed and Chuuya was violently tugged away from Dazai.

   The look that Chuuya gave him as he was dragged away... terror. Like he knew what was coming, and he knew it wasn't going to be pretty. 

   And Dazai couldn't even go after him, because the ability user appeared, and, with the press of a button, closed a metal shutter, separating the duo, and trapping Chuuya in a room with no way out but to demolish the whole room. 

   Dazai didn't remember their fight. Probably because, compared to what came next, it was completely and utterly insignificant. He quickly overpowered her (she may have been smart, but she didn't have enough combat training, so it didn't matter in the end), and just as he was about to nullify her ability and end this whole affair, the room exploded, shrapnel flying everywhere. 

   Fuck. Fuck. He had taken too long.

   The detective hissed out a breath, deciding to tie up the ability user with a piece of metal cord that lay on the floor just a short distance away, tying her to a metal beam.

   And he sprinted. He ran, practically flew across the room, focusing on one thing and one thing only: reaching Chuuya before it was too late. 

   He could hear the crazed laugh, the screams, metal bending and snapping, and then he was there, grabbing his ex-partner's hand, and gently guiding him back down to the floor. 

  The executive looked at him, eyes unfocused, the red glow of Corruption fading, and then his knees buckled, collapsing on the floor. The brunette kneeled down with him, drawing him closer to his body in an attempt at comfort.

   Chuuya... was in a bad state. So bad that... Dazai wasn't sure if he was going to make it, even with medical help. Regardless, he called for an extraction team, a medical team, anything that could maybe, maybe get here in time, even if he doubted that they would. 

   They had gone in before everyone was in place. A reckless move, but both of them had been feeling the urgency of this mission, the need to finally get this over with, and nullify the stupid ability that had started this whole affair.

   After all, they were known for being a powerful duo. They could handle this, right? 

   They should've waited. they should've waited, and now, Chuuya was going to...

   As the redhead coughed, blood bubbling out of his mouth, all Dazai could see was a Chuuya from years ago, one that he saw once and then never again.

   "Chuuya! Slug, where are you?" It should've been easy to find Chuuya. Follow the destruction, and eventually find anger personified into a small, short-tempered redhead. But... everything was wrecked, and there was nothing to indicate where he was. 

   Wait. Red. 

   Dazai climbed over the rubble, grumbling as he did so, and slid down, jumping to grab his partner's ankle.

   By the time they slid to the bottom of the rubble pile, the brunette had his smaller partner in his arms, looking at the ginger as he trembled, cold and... 

   "I'm... scared..." Chuuya whispered faintly. "It's... cold... it.... shouldn't be... this cold... right...?" His eyes were wide, and he gripped the front of Dazai's shirt like it was a lifeline. "You... answer me...!" His eyes looked wild, desperate. "You... you were... fucking late...! At least... give me..."

   Dazai's eyes widened, and then he gritted his teeth. "...we're calling the extraction team, now." He muttered, whipping out his phone.

   Dazai had tried to be more careful after that. Making sure to know exactly where Chuuya was at all times while in his corrupted state, counting the minutes down to the god damn second to make sure that he would never be that late, too late, ever again.

   Sure, there were the times he froze up. Chuuya was... powerful. Beautiful in the most dangerous type of way. Even without his ability, Chuuya could kill him so easily. It was... fascinating. Sometimes, he couldn't tear his eyes away from the painful, beautiful, powerful trainwreck that was Chuuya Nakahara in his corrupted state. 

   But... right now, after all of this, after all of the time he had spent just... being with him, talking to him, arguing with him, coming to some understandings with him, keeping him from dying, bringing him back from the cusp of death, over, and over, and over again-

   ...that time, Chuuya had been okay. That time he had been fixed right up, and it had been right back to teasing Chuuya like normal. Like normal. 

   This... this was not normal. This was not anywhere near normal.

   Chuuya was dying. And there was nothing he could do about it. The hot-tempered redhead that he had known for so long, teased for so long... his flame was going out like a dying star. 

   Dazai wasn't god. He couldn't just... rekindle the light of a dying star, because that's not how it worked, he couldn't do that. Even in this world of the supernatural, he couldn't just turn back time, go back to when they were teenagers and Chuuya was just a protostar, the beginnings of a bright star in Dazai's night sky, he couldn't go back and prevent this from happening. 

   He wanted to, god, he wanted so bad to go back now, and fix some things that could've been fixed if he had just bothered to care about it. 

   He should've. He should've. And now it was too late. Even with his apologies over the past month and a half or so, nothing could make up for four years of time and his abrupt departure from the Port Mafia.

   Everyone he got close to became miserable. Miserable or tragic or dead, and Chuuya was about to be added to the dead part of the list.

   Dazai gripped his ex-partner's hand tightly, bringing it to his chest. "Chuuya, I've got you, I'm holding your hand, it's going to be-"

   "Hah... you know... it isn't... right...? Its... internal..." Chuuya coughed. "I think... this is... it. They can't... get here in time... not... not this time..."

   "No, no, you're-" The brunette squeezed his hand. "I told you that you're not dying yet, and if you die now, your dream-"

   The redhead laughed. "C'mon... we were... teenagers... that shit... was stupid anyways..." He coughed, more blood dribbling out of his mouth. 

   "But you wanting to live isn't stupid!" Dazai hissed. "The wine thing, maybe, but you wanted to-"

   "And you... you living is... stupid?" Chuuya retorted. "You're a... fucking hypocrite... you... don't even want to... live... and you're..." He coughed again. "telling... me..."

   "Stop talking, you idiot hatrack!" The detective spat. "Save your strength, I called the extraction team, you-"

   "We... we can't have this conversation... any other..." He took in a sharp breath, pain clouding his eyes. "Dazai... I'm..."

   He wanted to say so much. But getting it all out now would be an impossible task. 

   Nothing had been impossible for the two of them before. Two halves of one whole. A nonhuman human and a human nonhuman, brains and brawn, human and godly vessel. Nothing could stop the two of them if you just partnered them up, placed them in front of an enemy, and told them to do whatever they thought was best.  

   They had even cheated death, once, twice, three times... unstoppable, unstoppable, unstoppable, until...

   Stoppable.

   An unclimbable, unbreakable, immovable wall that both halves recognized as the line between life and death, and Chuuya was on the side of death, soon to be dragged into its depths forever.

   And Dazai was trapped at the top of the wall, teetering between life and death, watching down in horror as the sole witness to Chuuya's death. 

   its almost time. your time is over. no second chances, no deals, no cheating death, this is it.

   "It was... a hell of a ride... huh, mackerel...?" He murmured. "Kinda... disappointed that... this is... how it..."

   Something wet fell onto Chuuya's cheek, rolling down and dropping onto the ground beneath him. He focused his gaze of Dazai's face, and that's when it struck him. 

   Dazai... was crying. His facial expression made no change, just the tears slipping silently down his face without any words.

   "...I don't want it to end!" Dazai got out, balling his hands into fists. "I don't want Chuuya to die, I don't want to stop teasing Chuuya, I..."

   Something in his gaze... was reminiscent of a small child being told that they weren't allowed to see their best friend anymore. Anger... resentment... sadness..

   Grief. 

   "You... knew this was... a possibility..." Chuuya murmured. "You... even told me... not to..."

   He shut his eyes, making a frustrated noise in his throat. "I did, but even Chuuya knows that doesn't matter now-"

   Chuuya coughed again, more blood flowing out of his mouth. "F-fuck..." He breathed. "Sorry... don't think I..."

   "You can, you stubborn little slug!" He hissed. "Please, just-"

   More blood. More blood than should be possible, more blood than a human could give up healthily, staining Chuuya's clothes, Dazai's clothes, Dazai's hands-

   Everyone he got close to became miserable. Miserable or tragic or dead.

   But Dazai didn't want to resign just yet. Not yet.

   There was something in him, something that didn't want to give up on his ex-partner. 

   Before he could act on it, Chuuya pulled on his sleeve weakly. "...just... give it... a rest... won't you?" He whispered. "It's... time. You... have to... fucking... let go..." He coughed again, more blood spilling out. "Please..."

   The regretful whisper of a man who's fate was set in stone. The whisper of a ghost. 

   "I..." Dazai just stared at him, an indescribable feeling of wrenching pain in his chest. "...you... you've defeated.. the enemy, Chuuya. Its time for you... its time for you to rest." He closed his eyes, and another tear fell onto Chuuya's face.

   The resigned whisper of a mourning child. The whisper of a soon-to-be dead man's could-be lover.

   He lifted his hands, and Chuuya smiled, something that looked out of place with all of the blood coating his lips.

   And then, just like that, Chuuya Nakahara was dead. 

   It shouldn't have been so... small, Dazai thought to himself. Chuuya's death should've been like... the death of a star. A supernova. An explosion, a flash of light, just... something more. There was a part of him that almost resented the universe for letting Chuuya die so quietly, like his death was some small, inconsequential thing, something to be overlooked by people.

   But... regardless of what he thought, what he believed, Chuuya was dead now. So... Osamu Dazai kneeled there, mourning his loss. Mourning what could've been. Mourning what they had.

  Unspoken words hung over the both of them. Unspoken words, a broken bond, a shattered dream...

   Maybe... in another life, they could've been happy.