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"Atsushi-kun~"
The wind caught Dazai's voice, gently carrying it to Atsushi.
Atsushi sighed quietly and shifted slightly on the bench, shuffling his feet on the ground, and looking to the side so that he didn't have to meet Dazai's gaze.
There wasn't much to look at in the park at that time of the day. He could hear children crying as they were dragged to their homes from the playground, the sound of traffic somewhere behind him, and the leaves rustling in the wind.
He could also hear Dazai's quiet breathing, every inhale and exhale reassuring something deep in his chest that Dazai was here . Safe, unharmed.
Alive .
Atsushi, despite having just moved away slightly, tried to subtly shift closer to Dazai just to feel more of his presence. Warm and calming. Something that Atsushi had grown used to during the past few months and couldn't seem to get enough of.
He wanted more. More of Dazai, and his voice, his touches and quips. His smiles and gentle looks. His laughs and those glints in his eyes.
He wanted everything. Every dark secret Dazai kept unsaid in his chest, every scar he hid from the world, the pain he had grown to endure and live with it.
Atsushi craved and craved and still, at the end of the day, he told himself the barest he could get from Dazai was enough. Would be enough. A shared glance in the office, a simple brush of a hand against his shoulder, a small smile at whatever he said.
Atsushi wanted everything, but anything he could get, anything Dazai was willing to give him, he cherished.
(It was painful for him. To have the whole world right next to him, to long for it with every fiber of his being, but knowing he couldn't reach out to hold it, to keep it, because he was bound to lose it in the end. Because things were never as simple as they seemed. Because, perhaps, he hadn't proved his worth yet.)
"Atsushi-kun."
Dazai's voice was fimer this time as it pulled Atsushi away from his thoughts, bringing him back to reality, and grounded him.
Atsushi closed his eyes for a second, took a breath and tried to sort his thoughts before turning his head to Dazai and, finally, met his gaze.
Atsushi, on rare occasions when he allowed himself to be indulgent, sometimes thought Dazai simply didn't belong to this world. He thought of him as an unearthly creature, carrying a heavy weight on his shoulders and an even heavier pain in his chest, and he so badly wanted to reach out, to offer to share his burden with him.
When the light in Dazai's eyes dimmed and a shadow fell over his face, when he retreated into himself, and wouldn't even meet his gaze let alone talk to him, Atsushi would find himself choking on all the words he wished he was able to tell him.
I won't let you falter , the words would die on his tongue as Dazai stared at something far away, unblinking, unmoving, expressionless.
You can rely on me , the words would lodge somewhere in his throat when Dazai let out a sigh, a heavy one, as if he was carrying so much on his own.
Just let me be there for you .
You don't have to do it on your own.
I know you're suffering.
I care.
He could never muster up the courage to give voice to his thoughts and feelings, too afraid of the possibility of getting rejected, of this tender thing in his chest that would flutter at the sight of Dazai to get shattered and never be the same again.
What little he got from Dazai, Atsushi had convinced himself, would suffice. And what little Dazai was willing to get from Atsushi, he gave it freely.
It wasn't much. It was painful. He wanted so much more, but… it was enough. It had to be. He could have been deprived of this, too.
(The pain was making a tangled mess in his chest, suffocating him, shackling him down, making him unable to reach out his hand, but Dazai--
Dazai had always been out of his reach.)
"You zoned out on me again."
This time Atsushi felt warmth coloring his cheeks as he was, once again, brought out of his ocean of thoughts. He looked away. "I'm sorry. I just--"
His voice trailed off in surprise when he felt Dazai's fingers take a hold of his chin. His fingertips were calloused, Atsushi noticed, but his touch was gentle. Firm. Dazai turned his face to him, and when, inevitably, their eyes met, he had a playful pout on his face.
Atsushi's heart missed a beat.
"I finally have your attention and you're depriving me of it again?" His tone was light. He let go of Atsushi's chin and dropped his hand back in his lap.
It took all his willpower to not glance at Dazai's hand wistfully. Atsushi could still feel the ghost of it on his face. "I'm sorry," he repeated again, suddenly feeling stupid and frustrated at himself for never being able to say what actually mattered, what actually he should. "I was just thinking."
Dazai hummed, eyes still on Atsushi and Atsushi couldn't bring himself to look away. He sat there, holding Dazai's gaze, fingers itching to touch. Even for a brief time.
"You do that a lot," Dazai said, tutting, putting his elbow on the back of the bench and resting his cheek against his palm. His eyes wandered around, stopping at something over Atsushi's shoulder. "Maybe you should stop. If you think about something over and over, it'll just drive you mad."
"What should I do then?" Atsushi opened his mouth, and as though a dam had broken, suddenly words spilled from him. "I can't do anything else about it. You think too much about too many things too." The words felt bitter on his tongue and his last sentence made his eyes go wide. He stuttered. "I didn't mean to say that. I'm sorry, I-"
"Relax, I'm not mad at you," Dazai cut in, chuckling. "I guess it was hypocritical of me to tell you that. You were right to call me out."
"But still," Atsushi went on, voice going weaker and weaker. "I shouldn't have said that."
Silence lingered between them. Atsushi still couldn't look away from Dazai, his heart painfully twisting.
"What do you think about?"
Dazai's sudden question caught him off guard. Atsushi blinked. "What."
"If you tell me one of the things you think about," Dazai smiled. "I'll also tell you one thing. Fair, isn't it? So what do you say?"
Atsushi didn't even need to think of an answer. You. I think about you. Youyouyouyou--
"Usual things." Atsushi said instead, shrugging. "Nothing interesting . . . what about you?"
"Many things," Dazai's voice was teasing. "Nothing specific."
Atsushi chuckled. "That's not a fair answer."
"That's because you didn't give me one either."
"True," Atsushi muttered, nodding once, gaze lowering. He hesitated a moment before saying, "The day you saved me. I think back to that day a lot."
"You were the one who saved me that day though, remember?" Dazai kicked Atsushi's leg with his shoe gently.
"I suppose," Atsushi lifted his hand to rub the back of his head. "I'm really glad I met you."
(His voice was quiet, but he already felt lighter after saying that. Maybe that was the closest thing to a confession he was willing to do.)
"I'm glad I met you too."
(Maybe the same went for Dazai.)