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`It's late, I hear the door
Bell ringing and it's pouring
I open up that door, see your brown eyes at the entrance
You just wanna talk and
I can't turn away a wet dog
The sharp sound of the rain pattering on the streets was muffled by the walls as Chuuya poured himself another glass of wine. Like most nights since four years ago, he drank alone hoping to forget while simultaneously reminiscing memories he once shared with his former partner.
Chuuya downed the glass, opting to cork another bottle of wine open. He had a day off tomorrow, so he could afford to sport a hangover.
The quiet empty space of his apartment loomed over his figure, missing the warmth of the annoying voice that once echoed through its walls.
The blood-red wine sloshed and spilled as Chuuya attempted to again fill his glass. He groaned, already feeling the effects of the alcohol. It seems that no matter how many times he drowns himself in the taste of old wine, he’ll always be a lightweight.
Red locks spilled on the kitchen counter as Chuuya lied his head down, eyes fluttering shut from the drowsiness. The storm hasn’t gone away and the roaring thunder it brought with it jolted Chuuya awake every so often.
“God, shut up,” Chuuya mumbled under his breath, burying his face further in the crook of his arm.
The thunder rolled again as if the universe had a grudge against Chuuya, rapping consecutively on his door. Can thunder even do that?
Then he registered the high-pitched tone he had been hearing the past few minutes. Someone had been ringing his doorbell.
Chuuya pushed himself up off the counter, body feeling as if his own ability were against him, pulling him towards the center of the earth. Each step he made in effort of going toward his front door wore him out. He silently curses whoever dared to show up at his door this late.
The rapping finally stopped as he heard a thud on his door. Chuuya hesitated before reaching for the handle and turning it open.
Chuuya heard a yelp as the body that was leaning on his door fell backward. He looked down in confusion and disbelief as his eyes locked with a pair of brown ones.
“Hey, Chuuya.”
There he lay, hair and clothes soaked, staring up at Chuuya with tired eyes and a soft look. After four years of radio silence, no explanation, or even a hint that he was okay. That he was alive. His former partner just showed up at his door on a random pouring night.
“...Dazai?”
“The one and only.”
I wish that you would stay in my memories
But you show up today, just to ruin things
Chuuya leaned on the kitchen counter, ditching his wine glass and grabbing the neck of the wine bottle, and pouring it down his throat instead. He was very much too sober now to deal with this,
Dazai looked at him in silence, shivering and dripping rainwater all over wooden the floors. His fingers drifted to pick at the edge of the bandages on his wrist, already coming loose.
“Why are you here, Dazai?”
“We need to talk.”
Chuuya scoffed.
“Like hell we do.”
What right did Dazai have to only show up now after Chuuya called him again and again since the night he disappeared? They were partners, and he left without a word. He left the mafia after dragging Chuuya into it with him. And he left Chuuya as if there was nothing between them. As if all they went through as partners meant nothing. As if he didn’t even deserve to know why he left.
Chuuya only worked up the courage a few months ago to finally block Dazai’s number, being unable to handle the pain of his fingers drifting to contact him every time he sat down and got drunk. He was finally starting to let go when Dazai decides to show up.
They had nothing to talk about. Not anymore.
“Chuuya, please.”
Hearing his name roll off Dazai’s tongue as smoothly as it did four years ago stung the most. He wanted to tell Dazai to never call him that again. Only the people he’s close with get to call him ‘Chuuya’. Only those he valued get to call him by his given name. Dazai lost rights to that the moment he set off the bomb rigged under Chuuya’s car as a final farewell.
Was it unfair of him to want to kick Dazai out? To wish he never had opened the door and let him drown in the rainfall outside? To want to save himself from the pain of letting Dazai explain himself only now when he deserved an explanation years ago?
Chuuya sighed.
The universe really was out to get him.
“Help yourself. Bottom left cabinet.”
Dazai nodded and trodded towards the bathroom. The puddle of water would soon dry out. Chuuya isn’t that much of an ass to let him get sick over something as stupid as rain.
He came back ten minutes later in a fresh set of clothes and bandages, his hair still damp and falling slightly over his eyes. Dazai’s gaze trailed to two empty bottles set down on the wine-spilled counter. Chuuya was corking another bottle open.
“Chuuya, that’s enough. You’ll pass out,” Dazai sighed, hand clasping over Chuuya’s wrist as their gazes met.
“Don’t fucking touch me,” Chuuya snapped and jerked his hand away, his eyes filled with an emotion Dazai couldn’t quite identify.
“Okay. I’m sorry.”
Chuuya's eyes pulled away from Dazai’s, his head now hung low with his hair flowing down as tears pricked his eyes. It wasn’t fair.
It wasn’t fair that Dazai gets to be sorry. He doesn’t deserve Chuuya’s forgiveness. Is he even genuinely sorry? What for? For stopping Chuuya from drinking till he loses consciousness? For leaving the mafia and him? For not asking Chuuya to leave with him? For everything? For nothing?
He doesn’t deserve Chuuya’s forgiveness, yet Chuuya is struggling to not just run up to him and accept the apology without a thought. To wrap Dazai in his arms and never let go, craving the warmth of the hug. Craving Dazai ’s warmth. His and the brief cool contact of No Longer Human to silence the rage of Arahabaki.
Chuuya is struggling, but he knows he deserves better than that. He couldn’t forgive Dazai that easily. Not after he destroyed everything they’ve built.
“You should be,” Chuuya mumbles, setting down the bottle.
Now I can't say goodbye if you stay here the whole night
You see, it's hard to find an end to something that you keep beginning
Over and over again
Only the muffled sound of the rain echoed through the room as they both sat in silence. Dazai hasn’t dared start a conversation after how Chuuya reacted, so he settled with waiting for him to do so instead. Besides, Chuuya hadn’t kicked him out yet so that counts for something, right?
Meanwhile, Chuuya is working through his head—pounding with alcohol and questions—contemplating if he should give Dazai a chance to explain himself. He did say he was sorry, which was a big step on its own for Dazai. Maybe he really has changed for the better after leaving the mafia. And maybe Chuuya should give him a chance to show that change.
“Okay,” Chuuya says, even though it pains him, running his fingers through his hair.
“Okay, what?” Dazai said softly, tilting his head.
“Talk. Let’s talk.”
“Okay. Yeah. What do you want to know?”
“Tell me everything.”
And so he did. Dazai told Chuuya about Odasaku and the kids, speaking of them ever so fondly like he cherished them the most. He spoke about nights spent at the bar talking about everything and nothing with Ango and Odasaku. The betrayal. The explosion. The Special Ability permit. Odasaku’s fight with Gide. He told Chuuya about the gunshot that ended his dearest friend’s life. How it was all orchestrated by Mori Ougai.
Dazai explained why he left in a hurry without so much as a word to anyone, ridden with so much guilt for not being able to see things through fast enough. Because of course, it was on him. He was the demon prodigy for fuck’s sake. He should’ve been able to protect Odasaku. He shouldn’t have let him go. He should’ve stopped it.
Maybe if he hadn’t been so close with the low-ranking port mafia member, he would still be alive. Maybe the kids would have grown up to be just like Odasaku. And his friend would have made it as a writer.
Dazai tells Chuuya that he didn’t leave him. Or at least he didn’t intend to. He left the mafia. He left the shackles that were Mori. He steered away from crime. From death.
He joined the good side. The side that saves people, in honor of Odasaku’s memory. He found a place to call his family. And he helped others like Atsushi and Kyouka to find theirs too.
Dazai knows he isn’t a good man. He knows that erasing his past crimes won’t relieve him of the burden of what he did. But he gave up all he had to become good. He was trying.
I promise that the ending always stays the same
So there's no good reason in make believing that we could ever exist again
Chuuya listened as Dazai spilled out the explanation he so desperately needed all those years ago. But there was still something eating away at his insides. A lump in his throat. A wound in his heart. A question of why.
“I still don’t get it,” Chuuya whispered ever so softly. Most people would miss it, but they didn’t spend years being partners for nothing. Days off spent at the arcade. Nights spent curled up in each other’s arms. A form of trust and understanding incomprehensible to everyone but them.
“Get what?” Dazai’s eyes locked once more with Chuuya’s, aching to reach out and take him in his arms again. To pretend that everything was okay. That they’d be okay. But that was Chuuya’s decision to make. It wouldn’t be fair of him to ask Chuuya to just forget everything.
“Why you didn’t take me with you.”
Dazai was the one who brought him into the mafia. Shouldn’t he be the one to pull Chuuya out too?
“I already took you away from your family once.” Dazai smiled sadly. “ I wasn’t about to do it again.”
Chuuya understood. Of course, nothing was simple between them. They’d have to dissect every single existing layer to truly understand things. Dazai left. But it wasn’t as simple as that. Because Chuuya didn’t know the real reason why he did. All he knew was that Dazai betrayed the Port Mafia and that he betrayed their partnership.
Chuuya spent years in grief and anger. Grieving the kind of trust they used to share. Being angry at Dazai for letting Double Black crumble. But the truth is, Chuuya had never been good with his own feelings. Neither was Dazai. Both of them hid underneath layers upon layers of anger and facades. It was just that way with them.
So maybe he wasn’t truly angry at Dazai. At least not fully. He was angrier at himself for not knowing. He was angry that he believed what all the others have said about Dazai being a plain traitor. He didn’t know about Odasaku and Ango, and the nights they shared at the bar. He didn’t know about the kids. Chuuya didn’t see that underneath all those layers, on the nights he and Dazai spent apart, the demon prodigy had a place with his friends.
He wondered why Dazai hadn’t asked him to leave the mafia too. But he now realized that even if Dazai did, he wouldn’t. He didn’t voluntarily leave the Sheep, they tried to kill him. Literally stabbed him in the back. He had no choice back then.
Dazai hadn’t asked because he didn’t want Chuuya to choose between him and the mafia. Even if it wasn’t necessarily on the good side, Chuuya had a family there. He couldn’t just leave Koyou and everyone else. God knows how loyal he is to the Port Mafia, and how much he valued his subordinates.
Now, Chuuya understood. All those years he spent hating Dazai, he should have been happy for him. For finding his place in the world again. For pulling himself out of the darkness. Even if that meant leaving him behind in the dark.
“What about my car, then?” Chuuya asked, even though he knew the answer. That Dazai had done it so Mori wouldn’t suspect Chuuya for aiding his betrayal. So that he wouldn’t be cast-off as a traitor once more by people he considered as his family.
“It was hideous, chibi. It had to go.”
“I liked that car, bastard.” Chuuya smiled despite the comment, his tone lacking its usual bite.
At least it wasn’t his motorcycle.
I can't be your friend, can't be your lover
Can't be the reason we hold back each other from falling in love
With somebody other than me
They’d be okay. Healing isn’t a linear process and they won’t resolve things overnight. But they’ll try. Chuuya isn’t ready to forgive Dazai yet, and that’s okay. Dazai understands. They’ve grown apart, and now they’ll learn to grow together. They’ll take their time.
Things won’t go back to how they were before. Double Black will never be the same as it once was. But Dazai and Chuuya would be okay, because this time, they’ll do better.