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The ground is… sticky.
He doesn’t understand. Why? Why is his hair matted with stickiness? Why can’t he move? His head is spinning. His breathing is shallow. His legs feel numb. He’s stuck to the floor. Why?
…he lifts up a single hand. It turns up bloody.
Oh, that’s it.
How did you forget?
You’re…
dying.
He doesn’t know what to do. The sounds of the battle echo above him. So people are still fighting. Still standing. That's… good, he thinks. It means they haven’t lost yet.
He’ll just have to hope everybody is okay. Hope that Kouyou and Akutagawa and Kyouka and the others aren’t all lying down, stuck to the ground from their own blood, watching the sky with hazy eyes as the life slowly seeps out of them.
Kouyou is strong. Akutagawa is resilient. Kyouka is clever.
…but he was strong. He was resilient. He was clever, and he’s still here , doing the one thing he swore never to do.
And he’s alone.
What are you talking about?
You aren’t alone.
Your partner is right beside you.
Wait.
He dares a look over his shoulder, ignoring the cracking of his bones as he slowly lands his head on the side. It’s painful, but he’ll endure it. It’ll all be over soon, anyways. Blue meets brown, and suddenly, he remembers.
Dazai is here. Dazai is here . Dazai is here and Dazai is-
-and Dazai is dying, gaze pinned on Chuuya’s, face coated in blood and dirt as he smiles weakly. Dazai is next to him, stuck to the floor in a pool of his own blood. Dazai and- Dazai and Chuuya are-
-dying. Together.
A laugh, raspy and coated in blood, makes its way out of his chest. He can’t help it. A fitting ending for an ill-fated duo.
You know, I never did like him much.
I’m glad he’s dying.
You like him, though, don’t you?
It’s almost poetic, in a way.
His finger twitches. Even though they’re right beside each other, Dazai feels too far away. He’s shaking. He’s hot. He’s cold. The blood is burning his skin. The blood is acid. The blood is making him sick. There’s a knife, sticking out of his stomach. He can see it, now. His teeth are chattering. His ears are plugged. His heart feels ready to burst.
He’s losing blood, and he’s losing life.
“Ah… we’ve really done it now, haven’t we, Chuuya?” Dazai’s voice is shaky and weak and everything he’s not. It makes him shiver.
“Shut up… asshole. We’re gonna be okay, you hear- you hear me?” As the words tumble from his lips, he knows they’re lies. He can’t even keep his own voice steady. Unless Yosano reaches them soon, they won’t-
-won’t make it.
It’s sad, really.
You were a good vessel.
Did you know that?
For the first time in his life, he doesn’t try to muffle the voice. His fingers are a few inches short of Dazai’s, and he doesn’t try to close the distance.
Arahabaki stays. The only thing that didn’t abandon him. It’s not by choice, but he won’t lie: he feels a weird sort of- not friendship, not exactly, but- a fondness for them. And he’s sure the god feels the same way.
“Yosano’s not coming,” He says, voice barely above a whisper. “She’s not coming, is- is she, Dazai?”
They shake their head weakly. “I’m afraid not, Chuuya. ‘fraid not.”
He thinks he might be sick. Fuck this , he thinks, and moves his hand over slightly. Dazai’s fingers intertwine with his.
You’re really-
Radio silence.
Past the blood rushing through his ears and the screaming beyond them, it’s almost a relief.
“Goodbye, Arahabaki.” He whispers. “We had a good run, didn’t we?”
“Are they gone?” Dazai asks. Chuuya can’t muster a nod, but he’s sure they understand. After all, they’re partners. Always have been, and always will be. Dazai may have left - they might have had some rough patches - but this, this untimely death, is the confirmation. It feels like something you might see in a Shakespeare play, or a drama. Some people never really leave you, do they?
His chest swells. Another blood clot forces its way up his throat. It’s painful, lying on his back, choking up the blood in his body, choking up the life in his body. But he doesn’t have much of a choice, does he? Yosano isn’t coming. He’s dying.
“Fuck,” He mutters. “Fuck, Dazai, we’re gonna-”
“It’s okay.” They interrupt. “It’s okay, Chuuya. We’re gonna be okay. Okay?”
The pain is fading. He feels numb.
I think we’ll call it… Double Black.
Overhead, the clouds swirl together. Of course it’s stormy on a day like today.
Hey, hey. We’ll be together forever, won’t we?
Dazai’s hand tightens around his.
Yeah. We’ll always be partners.
His hand slips away from theirs.
“You know, I always said I wanted to commit a double suicide with- with a beautiful woman.” Dazai says weakly.
Chuuya can’t answer. He wants to, but his mouth is numb. Instead, he settles on just looking, just watching the dying man before him. They watch him, too, a soft smile on his face.
“But I think this is an even better way to go.”
Bye, kid.
It was fun while it lasted.
Three hours later, the fighting stops.
It’s Kyouka who discovers them.
She runs, eyes wide with tears, to Atsushi and Akutagawa. Soon, everybody is gathered at their final place, varying levels of sadness within. Atsushi is on his knees. He hasn’t moved since he first saw them. Akutagawa sobs quietly into Gin’s shoulder. It’s the most vulnerable he’s been in a long, long time.
Kouyou is the one who adjusts their bodies. Closes their eyes, places their hands in each other’s, wipes the blood from their faces. Tears spill onto Chuuya’s cheeks. The boy she’s sheltered for so long, gone. The boy she failed to shelter, gone with him.
Kunikida says a few words for his lost partner. Tachihara speaks on the behalf of his best friend. It’s a tragic ending to a painful battle. Yosano keeps her eyes pinned on the floor. Ranpo tries to speak to her, to no avail; the guilt is eating her alive.
But they cannot stay here forever. And so, when the first drops start to fall, the bodies are carried back, and the day comes to a close. A new one will begin tomorrow. No matter what, the sun will rise and set. It always will.
And Double Black will watch on as their friends and family continue living. Together, as they always are.
Forever.