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“You came?” Chuuya’s voice was strained, barely audible over the beeping of the EKG to her left. Her blurred vision struggled to make out the vague image of a gangly brunette standing in the doorway to her hospital room.
“Yeah, but don’t make a big deal out of it, okay?" Dazai grumbled as she dragged her feet past the threshold. She plopped herself onto the dingy recliner opposite the hospital bed and let out a melodramatic huff.
From the looks of her, one would assume she was just another patient. She was adorned in assorted bandages and dressings - around her forehead, on her cheek, even her throat and forearms were completely covered. The only way she distinguished herself from any other car crash victim in the ICU was the oversized black coat draped over her shoulders, making her look more phantom than girl as she skulked down the empty halls.
Chuuya propped herself up with her elbows on the handrails. She only just managed to stifle the groan in the back of her throat, but she wasn’t going to let Dazai know how terrible she actually felt. It was hard to conceal, though, behind the smeared mascara still clinging to her under eyes and the ashen hue the fluorescent lights cast on her pallid skin.
“Are those flowers?” she cocked her head towards the bouquet tucked loosely under Dazai’s overcoat. Peeking out were delicate blue petals, ranging from a soft periwinkle to deep cerulean. Chuuya didn’t recognize them, but dispersed in between were large, white lilies and bits of greenery.
“No,” the brunette pouted. She sat for a moment, anxiously twisting her curls between her fingers, before muttering something only loud enough for herself to hear. “I don’t know, they reminded me of your eyes or something.”
“Aw, that’s sweet,” Chuuya chuckled behind a wince. Despite her senses being slightly dulled under the persistent throbbing in the back of her skull, Chuuya’s hearing was still remarkably sharp.
“Yeah, don’t get used to it,” Dazai mumbled as a blush crept its way to her cheeks. “They’re forget-me-nots. Seemed appropriate.”
Dazai’s face was sullen as she tried to arrange the bouquet in the empty vase waiting on the end table. She hoped Chuuya wouldn’t ask her to elaborate on that, but they’d had this conversation already, she knew it was coming.
Still, Chuuya waited a beat before speaking.
“Dazai, how long have I been in here?” She started soft, the question drifting in the air with no clear sense of direction.
“This is day five…” Dazai kept her eyes fixed on the sprigs of eucalyptus between her fingers.
“Five days huh…” Chuuya seemed to ponder this for a moment. Dazai knew what question would come next. “And why can’t I remember anything?”
“You took a pretty bad hit to the head. You’re going to have some trouble with short-term memory while you’re recovering.” She chipped at her flaking nail polish, still refusing to look up.
“Oh. How many times have I asked you that?” Chuuya asked, quieter this time.
“I think that makes seven.” She had already committed Chuuya’s expression to memory. She could close her eyes and see the despondence and heartache with crystal clarity. She could picture the mist rising in Chuuya’s eyes without so much as a glance in her direction.
“I’m sorry.” Her voice was low, smothered under a thick blanket of shame.
“Ew, why?” Dazai peered up at her partner through thick lashes and dawned a mischievous grin. “I can try out all my favorite insults to see which one gets you worked up the most and you don’t even remember. I’m having the time of my life.”
It wasn’t a complete lie – Dazai had used the opportunity to tell Chuuya plenty of things she’d never have shared if she had thought it would come back to her. Insults, however, had been pretty low on the list.
“Wait a second…” Chuuya scrunched her nose and furrowed her brow like she always did when she was thinking too hard. She noticed her nails were the same color peeling onto Dazai’s lap. They each had tiny braids running from the napes of their necks over their shoulders. Dazai had definitely been here already. “Have you visited me every day since I got here?”
Any attempt at a lie would’ve been exposed too easily. There were a number of variables and sets of loose lips that could reveal the truth; Dazai had to work with the undeniable and disguise it under a cloak of disdain.
“What can I say? You make for good target practice when you’re bedridden.” She snickered as she dodged the remote flying towards her face.
“God damn it, Dazai.” Chuuya’s face flushed with the increasing volume of her voice. “Don’t you have a single decent bone in your body?”
There were no other possible projectiles within arm’s reach, so she huffed and flopped back against the pillows, muttering curses to herself.
“If I did, you probably would’ve broken it anyway!” Dazai whined. She gave her partner a sour face and petulantly stuck out her tongue.
Chuuya couldn’t return the expression of distaste, too busy focusing her energy on stifling a wince. Fruitless though it was to try to hide her pain, Chuuya was incredibly stubborn. She let out a faint hiss as she tried to prop herself back up.
“Speaking of broken bones,” Chuuya grunted. “What do I need to do to get some god damned morphine around here?” She glanced over at the fresh bag of fluids drip, drip, dripping down the line and into her veins. Lactated ringers, no additives. No fentanyl, oxy, nor tramadol to speak of.
“They started pulling you off yesterday.” Dazai regained her cool demeanor, crossing her arms as she leaned back into the worn upholstery. “They’re hoping that keeping you more lucid will help with your memory retention.”
“Well shit.” Chuuya eased herself back into a recline. “So, when is it going to get better then?”
“How should I know?”
“Don’t you know everything? That’s, like, your whole fucking thing, Miss Demon Prodigy.”
Dazai sighed and gave her partner a sympathetic frown. “Do you have any idea how much more work I have to do when you aren’t around to take care of all of the stuff I don’t wanna do? If I knew anything, you’d be back to your usual chibi self and doing busy work already.”
Chuuya sighed and resigned herself to the unknown. It’s not like living in her body had been remotely clear-cut at any other point, why should now be any different? The only thing still nagging at her was what Dazai might’ve done or said that she’d never know. And how could she craft her revenge if she didn’t even know why she was retaliating?
“How can you get any work done if you’re spending all of your time here?” She shot the brunette a scolding glare.
Dazai kicked her feet up onto the edge of the hospital bed, content to bicker the day away rather than fall back into what had become her daily routine of shattering Chuuya’s heart, going home, and thinking of better ways to do it again tomorrow.
“Ah, you know I do my best work if I can bother you at the same time. Your rage fuels me.” Chuuya’s answering groan pulled up at the corners of her strawberry-balmed lips.
“Come on,” she pleaded. “Why are you actually here? What do you need from me?”
Dazai held her breath until she felt the air in her lungs grow stale. She hadn’t gotten it right yet, not once. She tried to fill her chest with courage on the inhale, but all she got was sterile hospital air. Chuuya wouldn’t be like this forever, she couldn’t keep messing it up. She couldn’t keep failing. She was going to get it right today.
“Well,” she paused to exhale, slow and grounding. “I have something I’ve been meaning to talk to you about for a little while.”
“Okay…” The other girl's forehead creased with apprehension and traces of concern. “You usually never shut the fuck up, even when I want you to. Why are you telling me this now when you know I won’t remember?”
The question seared Dazai’s skin. There was no “right” answer, no response that wouldn’t burn deep enough to reach Chuuya’s already-shattered bones. Honesty is so messy, and the truth never stood a chance against the imagination.
Because I don’t want you to know.
“Chuuya is far too sentimental. It would just put us at more risk of you doing something stupid.” Dazai shielded herself with pragmatism. She could only hope that the veil of apathy she wore would encourage her partner to do the same.
Because I’m a coward.
“You really don’t think much of me, huh?” Though she did her best to look offended, Dazai couldn’t miss the shock and the heartbreak creeping their way into her expression. She had quickly become familiar with the way they danced around one another in the depths of Chuuya’s eyes.
Because I can’t let you have my blood and my heart in your hands.
“I’m just being honest.” Dazai shrugged to shake off the last of her dread. “I don’t think you can handle knowing we’re soulmates.”
“WHAT?” Chuuya shrieked. The EKG followed suit, quickening its pace and slicing the air with its shrill beeping. “What’s that even mean? Stop fucking with me.”
Because I can’t let losing you mean losing everything.
“I don’t know what it means. I’ve just seen the thread a few times, that’s all. Usually during corruption.” Dazai cast her gaze over her shoulder, grateful she could hide her anxiety behind the curtain of unbrushed tresses. “It’s not that big of a deal, you’re being dramatic.”
Chuuya wasn’t even trying to conceal her distress or disappointment anymore. “... It’s not that big a deal, huh,” she scoffed. “If being tethered to somebody by the soul isn’t a ‘big deal,’ then what is a big deal Dazai?”
“That’s not what I meant.” Dazai pressed her fingers to the dressing wrapped over her temple and tried to massage away the ruth. “Stop taking things so literally.”
“You’ve had plenty of opportunities to say what you mean, haven't you?” Chuuya turned on her side with an agonized groan, more concerned with turning her back to the other girl than the stabbing pain rippling up her spine.
“Chuuya, stop.” Dazai’s exasperation outweighed her grace and the words came out colder than she intended.
“Stop what? I’m fine. I’ll forget you even said anything. That’s what you wanted right?” Her voice splintered into shards of pain and desolation. “Do me a favor, okay? Tomorrow, don’t even mention it. If it doesn’t mean anything, then save me the nausea and keep it to yourself. I feel shitty enough as it is.”
Dazai was out of options, out of words or excuses. She was so tired of reciting her lines, playing the role of somebody stronger who didn’t care what that glittering red string meant. She did care, she cared so fucking much. Every time she saw everything that made Chuuya human swallowed up inside the raging tides of Corruption, that stupid, thin line seemed to be the only thing reminding her that she wasn’t watching the destruction of everything she held dear.
She had one idea left, the one thing she hadn’t tried yet. So she did it; she took a leap of faith and made herself more vulnerable than she’d ever been or ever wanted to be. She took Chuuya by the shoulder, turned her onto her back, cupped her speckled face with her hands, and fell .
The moment Chuuya felt Dazai’s lips crashing into hers, time stopped. The world went quiet, and her fury froze. Dazai had hushed her wrath, pacified her heartache, and stolen the very breath from her lungs. But Chuuya wanted to give her more . She wanted Dazai to take everything , to hold it in her palms just as she did Chuuya’s cheeks.
She could feel Dazai’s unruly waves of chestnut and chocolate ghost along her exposed collar bones when she hoisted her onto the narrow hospital bed. She wanted to devour the distance between them, and the brunette’s instincts followed her partner’s lead as effortlessly as they did when they were knocking on death’s door.
Each embrace was marked by trepidation, scared of what it meant to be linked by fate in a world where their skies rained lead and the streets ran red with the blood of their enemies. Were they born only to sow chaos, or to rule the underworld with the grace and dignity of Persephone herself? The way they melted into one another, stone skin softening into the contact, told them they were made for something greater. They felt the balance of light and dark in their palms in the form of tangled hair and slept-in braids.
Chuuya laced her fingers through Dazai’s and pulled them to her chest. She left the other girl’s palms to count her heartbeats against the machinery ringing next to them. Her own hands found their place on Dazai’s hips, clinging to the bunching fabric with all the strength she could spare.
Dazai pulled away, catching her breath in soft pants and wondering if she’d ever felt her heart so distinctly alive in her chest. It was a caged bird, a moth beating itself against a lantern just out of reach. Her eyes trained onto the peach-toned pout no more than an inch away from hers, still dumbstruck over how easily they’d welcomed her in. She knew if she stole a glimpse upwards, she’d be stuck inside Chuuya’s eyes for good, so she studied the point of her cupid’s bow and the way the vivid flush of color feathered out to ivory skin. Her resolve ran dry when she felt a thumb glide along her cheekbone.
“Hey,” Chuuya’s voice was low and raspy, easily mistaken for another ragged exhale. Her hand was so warm against Dazai’s chilled skin. The blood rushing to their faces hadn’t provided any comparable heat.
When their eyes met once again and Chuuya was sure she had the brunette’s attention, she continued, “ be honest.”
Those words would typically skate right past Dazai’s interest, but, with her nose glancing against Chuuya’s and chests rising and falling in synch, she was a captive audience.
“Did we do this already?” The smile on Chuuya’s lips crept into her voice, smoothing out the edges and covering it in honey. “‘Cause I’m gonna be pretty pissed if I find out this wasn’t even my first kiss.”
Dazai giggled against the redhead's lips, locking them together in another kiss. And another. And another. Until they lost count and the world around them was nothing more than a backdrop for their detour from reality. The hospital noise was radio static, some disk jockey yammering on about traffic reports and movie trivia. They refused to separate. It was as if any air between them could swallow the memory whole and they’d lose it to the void forever. The remainder of the afternoon was spent with Dazai’s head on Chuuya’s bruise-covered chest, the two intermittently pressing their lips to hands and wrists and cheeks and jawlines.
The fear was still there, lurking just beneath the surface. It sat in wait, ready to be the anchor that drags her under. But it isn’t all-consuming. She got it right this time, and she would do it as many times as she needed to. She would do it every day for four years if she had to. Chuuya was her soulmate. What that really meant, she wasn’t quite sure. It didn’t matter. All that mattered was that they stood side-by-side, ready to take on Heaven and Hell alike, because soulmates stayed together forever. Right? Right?
Much to their dismay, visiting hours did come to an end and a nurse with a kind smile came by to usher Dazai out and offer Chuuya her dinner. On her way out, Dazai heard her name wrapped in a voice of gold and fire.
“Hey Dazai, thank you for the flowers.” Starlight grey eyes squinted over rosy cheeks and the softest smile Dazai’d ever seen from her partner.
“Anytime… I’ll see you tomorrow, Chuuya.”