Chapter Text
Gaudy lights and old CDs strung together into baubles. Claw machines for plush toys with beady eyes and mildly discolored hair. Old arcade systems in brightly-colored plastic that have several dents from the passage of time.
This old arcade is set to be demolished tomorrow, to give way to a new commercial complex. Gramps has resisted as much as he could, but given how most of buildings in the area are home to career adults, business isn’t doing so well. Not to mention, kids these days are all about mobile games and VR systems.
For old time’s sake, Chuuya drops by and brings barley tea to Gramps, as well as all the change in her pocket so she can play several rounds of her favorite old games. Motorcycle Racing VI has a fond place in her heart; so does Street Smash IV.
The joystick isn’t as responsive as she remembers it, but she still makes quick work of the enemies after muscle memory kicks in. It’s been a little over seven years since she’s last set foot in this place, and she can’t help but feel a rush of nostalgia as she listens to the rock music theme that plays in the old speaker.
There are no other customers when she’s dropped by, so Gramps has gone to the stock room after making small talk with her to catch up on what she’s been up to over the years.
Thankfully, he doesn’t bring up a certain matter, aside from the pointed look to her side.
It hasn’t been completely empty, over the years. She’s had classmates, friends, colleagues, coworkers. None of them were Dazai, and for a good reason. The world isn’t so big to handle more than one kind of that fish.
At this thought, her hands slam down harder on the controls, nearly taking out the joystick.
Another victory.
It pings to a new theme, as another round starts. The movements of the enemy is so much smoother now, and her distraction flies away immediately when she gets zapped by lightning from her opponent: a smirking schoolgirl wielding a bat full of nails.
She frowns, and smells something familiar even through the scent of nostalgia and soda pop.
Muscle memory dominates her movements, as she grits her teeth and follows her instinct to fight and compete. For the first time in a long, long time, she actually sweats through her palms as she plays.
“Fufufu, it’s my win,” comes from the other side, and that stops her for a crucial millisecond.
Her character is fried by the lightning attack, but that doesn’t matter.
She jumps out of her seat, one foot over the controls as she glares at the person who has arrived, soundless like an apparition.
“Shitty Dazai—!” She yells before she even gets a proper look, but the rest of her words stutter in her throat. After several moments of pointing at the other party with her middle finger, she can only blankly say, “…You finally removed your damn eyepatch.”
It’s as if time has returned to seven years ago.
When the two of them competed in the arcade as to who would pay for the snacks on their way home. When they squeezed together in a photobooth and printed out stickers of them making faces at the camera while trying to beat each other up. When they were chided by Gramps for being too noisy and for scaring away customers whenever they get too heated in their arguments.
“Ah, it’s our long-awaited reunion, and that’s the only thing you can tell me?”
No more bandages on her face, but she’s still wearing them on her neck and on what’s visible on her wrists and legs. A lot of it are on her legs, having grown even longer during the time they’ve been separated. A tight pencil skirt above her knee, but no skin is shown off given how white strips of bandages hug her limbs.
She looks like one of the powerful CEOs who are dominating the skyscrapers in the area. Glasses on the bridge of her nose, a bolo tie hanging over her neck. A turquoise pendant that lands in the middle of her chest, top two buttons undone. A black coat hangs over her shoulders. There’s none of the gloomy aura hanging over her now, but it’s possible that she’s just learned to hide it better.
“I can also tell you to fuck off,” she says after what seems to be an entire lifetime.
“For old time’s sake,” Dazai smiles at her in that familiar cunning way. “Since you’ve lost to me just now, you have to do something for me.”
She rolls her eyes, hands on her hips. “I haven’t agreed to that shit.”
“Let’s pick up where we left off,” Dazai continues like she doesn’t care for her protest at all.
She clicks her tongue, looking around the place and considering using a stool to swipe at the other’s face. “Where we left off was with you disappearing without even a word.”
Just one day, in their senior year of high school. An announcement from Mori-sensei, that Dazai has left for America, according to her family’s wishes.
It’s not that Dazai needs her permission to do whatever the fuck she wants to do with her life. It’s just that, hearing about it from others is so—
The worst thing was Shirase and the others patting her shoulders and saying, “You must have known for quite a while, huh? No wonder you didn’t tell us, I’m sure you two wanted to spend some time together undisturbed.”
It’s the absolute worst.
Candidly, “I was placed under witness protection for several years.”
“…HA?! What the fuck?! You—! Are you okay now?!”
Before she knows it, she’s barreling into the idiot, hands fisted upon her lapels and destroying her prim-and-proper look.
“…Pfft, I was joking.”
“You—!!!”
“But, I do have a reason,” Dazai tells her, hands rising up to cover her own. “For old time’s sake, why don’t we go on a date, and I’ll tell you all about it.”
She really shouldn’t. She could feel it in her bones, that taking Dazai up on her offer now would introduce a series of storms in her life that’s already been stable for so many years.
She really shouldn’t, but—
“Fine,” she says, and briefly closes her eyes when she feels the other’s smile pressed against her forehead in a butterfly kiss. “Better make sure to make it worth my while, asshole.”
“I always do,” comes the confident reply. This is followed by a tug to her hand so that they can show off their reunion to Gramps, who has probably already sensed this, which is why he’s escaped to the break room early.
Things aren’t exactly the same as before, but—
The world isn’t so big a place for a pair in love.
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