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Dazai had not slept in a long time. Not properly, at least. Ever since Odasaku had died, he would only get an hour of sleep, and even that was short.
He would go to work, and slack off, feel the tiredness in his bones and privately think that if Kunikida knew just what had happened the previous night, he would cut Dazai some slack, or tell him to get rest.
Dazai has not been able to sleep ever since Odasaku left him, since he had died.
After work, he would go home and do all the reports he was assigned that day, often staying up until late in the evening, setting them onto the Western-style table in his kitchen in an attempt to make them all perfect.
He hasn't been able to sleep yet, so he grabs blindly for a bottle of wine, uncorking it and drinking from the bottle as he drops into his futon.
Dazai wakes up an hour after the fact, head pounding as the sun shines. A new day at the Agency.
He does it all over again.
Today is new, Dazai thinks. There's something new in the air.
It's not his problem, and it will not be his problem.
He ends up back on the green couch, the one that reminds him so much of the one Oda had at his apartment, but this one is smaller, is less worn and is clearly less cared for.
Dazai ends up back on the couch in the office and pulls his headphones on and reads. It's not his copy of Complete Guide To Suicide , but instead a book of poems, one that Oda had recommended a long time ago, when they were curled in the older's bed, talking about their future between kisses and laughter.
It was Oda's copy, and Dazai traces his fingers over the small, neat scrawl. There are tears in his eyes, but he wipes them away. He will not cry here. Not here.
Dazai had never gotten a chance to give Oda a necklace, and had never gotten a chance to propose with it. It sits in his pocket, in its black box and Dazai cannot bear to look at it.
Kunikida is giving a tour, perhaps, because Dazai can hear the blond explaining the layout to somebody. It doesn't matter, whoever it is.
Oda is dead, and Dazai can't ever get him back. And that hurts. It hurts, because that is the love of his life. Oda Sakunosuke is the love of his love, and Dazai Osamu can't ever get him back.
He's tried so many times. He's tried so many times, with the Book. It never worked.
"Dazai?" There's a hand on his face, and he knows that hand. It's Odasaku. He's hallucinating. Dazai has to be hallucinating him. He's done it before. "Oh, Dazai. You haven't slept ."
"Oda-san? Do you know the bandaged manic?"
Kunikida…sees Odasaku?
"Of course I do," Oda whispers as Dazai feels his headphones slip from his ears and his chin be tilted up carefully. "Of course I know him."
That's him. That's Odasaku. Dazi knows it's him, because he could pick Odasaku out from a crowd, out from an atom, from a mass of stars, from anything at all. He and Oda were interwoven, their souls blended together that you could not tell where one began and the other ended.
"Oda….saku…?" Dazai whispers back, the book of poetry falling from his fingers and onto the couch. "How are you here?"
"Ango had an ability user that could…put my body in stasis? It was….I was in a sort of coma." Oda presses a kiss to Dazai's knuckles, and his forehead against the nullifier's own. "It healed me at the same time? I'll be honest, beloved, it was more than a little confusing, the way Ango explained it. But as soon as I could, I came here."
"You….what?"
"I came here for you. I just…need answers, and then, if you want me to leave, I will."
" Leave ?" Dazai chokes, feeling fear stick in his throat. God, he doesn't get fearful of the Guild or of Dovykesty, but he gets scared of the idea of Oda leaving. "Why would you leave?"
"I-....you moved on from me, didn't you? The way Atsushi-kun talks and looks at you–"
"What…?" Dazai's voice is small, unsure, and it's like all his confidence has been drained from him in the face of this idea. "No- no, no, don't go , Odasaku. Don't leave me again."
"I would never. I would never." The ability user whispers, combing a hand through Dazai's hair. "If you'll have me, I'll stay."
"I'll always have you." Dazai nods softly, eyes tracing Oda's face, trying to memorize everything about him. "Always, 'saku."
"Forever?"
"Forever." Dazai pulls back for a moment, fishing out the black box in his pocket. "Open it? I- I was going to give it to you earlier- but I never got a chance and-"
Oda seems reluctant to leave Dazai's side, and presses himself close to the younger, opening the box with scarred hands. "This is–" He lifts out a diamond choker, fingers tracing over the gems. "Love…"
Dazai hums, pressing a kiss to Oda's cheek, a hand wrapping around his arm carefully. "I have more than enough money. And you'd look so pretty in this. May I?"
Oda nods quietly, dropping it carefully into Dazai's hands to let the younger clasp it around his neck.
"Odasaku?" He murmurs, staring up at the redhead, ignoring the office and everyone in it that is not his Oda. "Will you marry me?"
"Yes. Yes, I'll marry you. I'll marry you."
"Okay," Dazai whispers, nodding happily. "Okay, good. 'm gonna pass out now. You're here, so I can finally sleep."
"Of course." Oda murmurs back, kissing Dazai's forehead and tucking a strand of hair away from Dazai's eye and behind his ear as the nullifier cuddles up against Oda's chest. "Of course, love. I'll watch over you."
"Mm…I love you, baby boy." Dazai's breathing settles into the slow pace of sleep, indicating how exhausted he had been.
"I love you too," He catches Oda murmuring as Dazai's head drops into his lap, one arm around the ex-Port Mafia executive's waist and the other carding through his hair. "I always will."
Odasaku is here, and Dazai Osamu can be happy for the first time in four years.