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What Chuuya loves about Dazai, he makes for engaging conversation no matter the subject, always knows what to say about something, always seems well-read on whatever it is he talks about. He doesn’t peddle falsehoods just to further his own opinions because Dazai doesn’t construct a narrative until he knows what he’s talking about.
He never demands too much attention, their dates could be filled with silence, or simply Chuuya talking his ears off about whatever topic has his grasped so tightly that he can’t let it go until the flurry of words escape him and Dazai lazily nods along in genuine intrigue.
He knows when to leave Chuuya be almost perfectly without it having to be asked or said, being able to read Chuuya’s moods like they’re written pages on a book laying right before his very eyes at all times.
He’s always inexplicably taking books from the library that he forgets to read and bring back until they’re far past the due date. He’s always struggled with keeping his belongings in check, always letting a loose sock or shirt litter around the room, but he tries, for Chuuya.
Dazai grew up in Yokohama around doctors, and surgeons, and hospitals, but has no family he’s close to or been able to really connect with since graduating high-school.
He’s good at making the room laugh, willing to play himself a fool to do it, too.
He’s smart, well-educated, and closed-off from everyone around him except Chuuya.
Dazai can appreciate Chuuya’s endless enthusiasm and the way he throws his all into everything he tries, never one to do anything half-assed.
He’s a good cook, keeps the house clean, and likes to be honest with everyone around him.
Chuuya is a people-pleaser, but he doesn’t let that interfere with who he is and what he stands for, he just naturally draws others to himself by virtue of being himself.
He’s well-liked by everyone, easy to please, and finds himself strongly attached to anyone that treats him well.
Chuuya has a bit of a temper, but that doesn’t really trouble a lot of people around him, he’s competitive and hates to lose, sometimes growing a little petty and childish in the face of it.
Chuuya loves music and has made himself comfortable with every genre known to man, respects every form of it even when it’s not his preferred genre to listen to.
These are things that remind them, day in and day out, that the relationship is worth it. That is started for a reason. They could truly look at one another and see a life partner.
But Chuuya has grown tired, and Dazai distant. Neither of them knowing what started the descent, but knowing what keeps it going.
Dazai’s socks on the floor, day in, day out, his refusal to learn how to cook, his inability to fold laundry or do dishes. Chuuya is left to do it all by himself and he grows tired.
Chuuya starts finding his all in hobbies that Dazai doesn’t favour and inadvertently locks himself away more and more in the hopes of finding the time to deal with them, leaving Dazai off to his own to wonder when the demons in his mind will get him.
Relationships are a two-way street, but their streets have long since diverted and started running in parallel, never to meet again.
*
Slamming the door shut behind him out of frustration as he strides in big steps through the house, past the clothes strewn on the floor and over a messy pile of underwear and socks that blocks the entrance to Dazai’s room.
“You really, seriously had to go and do that shit?!” is yelled without even a chance for a calm conversation. Seething with rage as the fire burns deeply from the pit of his stomach, visible all the way behind his eyes.
Dazai simply lays on the floor, slumped against the wall and staring at his phone while trying to ignore Chuuya’s plight.
“Oi, I’m talking to you?”
An annoyed sigh, followed by Dazai rolling his eyes before he lines his gaze with Chuuya’s. He eyes weary and tired, and Chuuya knows he’s partially to blame for that, but that doesn’t give Dazai the right to do what he did.
“They asked, I answered. It’s not really all that big of a deal right?”
The cracking echo of a fist slamming into the wall next to Chuuya, Dazai visibly winces at the sudden-ness of it.
“Not a big deal? Not a big fucking deal?! Have you considered that maybe I wasn’t ready to just, have that out there? My phone’s been lining red with calls from my family and I don’t know what to do!”
“Ahw, bummer, guess those six years of us dating didn’t mean enough to you to actually tell them yourself.”
“That’s what you’re focusing on? Really? You’re mad I haven’t come out to my family for you- you know what kind of people they are, Dazai- Look at me, don’t fucking ignore me- !“
For once in his life he can bear to let the tears building up in the corners of his eyes stay to flow freely. He hasn’t bothered to look at the messages his parents sent him after the first one from his aunt came in, he’s far too terrified of breaking upon reading the words that sit there, waiting to be read and send the trajectory of his life in a downwards spiral of vitriol and venom.
He’s been far too careful, far too afraid, to have it destroyed like this.
“How do you think I feel, Chuuya? My family wasn’t particularly supportive either, but I told them, I told them because I thought it mattered.”
“This and that, are very different fucking matters? Your relationship with your parents was already at rock-bottom, you’ve told me so yourself-“
“Oh so that makes it okay for me to be shunned by my parents for you, but you aren’t willing to choose me over them? What’s the point then, even?”
Pressing his lips in a thin line, Chuuya tries to stop every thought wanting to break through and rage inside the room, he knows on a deep, intrinsic level that Dazai is right- that he should’ve chosen him over his parents who’d never accept him regardless of how and when he brought it.
That didn’t stop him from hoping he could delay, long enough that his parents would gain some understanding for it and they could love him as he is, not who he pretends to be.
He’d wished every day that he could tell them without breaking everything, that he could keep them and Dazai in his life at the same time without conflict.
“You- you had no right. If it hurt you that fucking much then you could’ve left.”
Dazai narrows his eyes, getting up from his position to tower his large but lanky stature over the redhead, his dark browns clouded over but a subtle anger rising from underneath that hazy veil.
“Wasn’t it you who said we’d stick together through ‘thick and thin’, that we could handle every problem thrown at us, the same way we did in high-school, the same way we did in college? Where’d that promise go?” he snarls.
Chuuya won’t have it, not like this. “And you think that gave you the right to out me to my parents and co-workers without my knowledge or permission? I work two fucking jobs to ensure we can live the way we do, I clean and cook for you every fucking day, because I’ve always understood you struggle with that mind of yours, and I wanted to be there every step of the way. Everything you do is for your own fucking benefit. You don’t even try.” Is hissed so darkly he scares himself with it.
“I try plenty!!” Dazai now yells back, “I’ve tried every day, but it’s hard when you’re never there. Every time I needed you, you were off having fun where I couldn’t be, and I was left to drown all by myself!”
“Oh that’s my fault? It’s my fault you don’t communicate? My fault you never contribute shit and making me do the work of two people alone? I had two jobs, but guess what? Now I have none! I got fired, they called me a faggot right to my face and said they didn’t need ‘someone like me’ there. Both jobs, because of you. And now I have to face my own fucking parents. Who I know are homophobic as shit, because you were insecure, and lonely, and afraid to talk?”
“You’re so incredible at playing the victim right now Chuuya. I did tell you, I asked you, many times! You abandoned me in our own house because you had more important people to please, because you’re comfortable sucking up to people who will never accept you for who you are over your own fucking partner! You chose that, not me.”
Through all the current hatred, the burning pit that blazes stronger with each passing second Dazai speaks, Chuuya grows tired, tired, and absolutely ready to raze down the world and everything he’s come to know. When the loud words that crash against the walls to hit them right back are replaced by defeated tones no louder than the distance between him and Dazai. In silence he turns his back and leaves, taking his keys and making way for the garage.
“So that’s it? You’re just gonna leave?” Dazai mocks him from behind, following him after.
It’s bone-chilling and cold, the way Chuuya’s emotionless voice simply speaks, “Yeah.” In a tone so neutral it sends shivers even down Dazai’s spine.
“It’s over. This isn’t salvageable.”
Now it’s Dazai’s turn to burn like an inferno, stepping between Chuuya and the door leading to the garage. “You and I both know how stupid it is for you to drive right now.”
“Out of the way, Dazai.”
“No.”
“I said. Out. Of. My. Way.” Hands trembling with rage, fingers clasping around the keys so tightly they cut into his skin and not once does he take note or care.
Dazai stands tall and straight, like an immoveable rock in Chuuya’s path. “I don’t care how upset you are, how angry you are. You’re not driving like that, I’m not letting you.”
“Oh, so now we decide to care?” The emotions are back in full force when the tears stream down his face, “You sure as hell didn’t seem to before.”
“You’re going to fucking crash driving a car like this, Chuuya.”
“Don’t ‘Chuuya’ me, asshole!!”
“You abandoned me when I needed you, every single time. You preferred your social status over me, and I’ve let you do that for years.”
It’s said so coolly that it stops even Chuuya’s vitriol dead in its tracks. “I’ve tried to tell you, I’ve tried so many times, begged even. I really needed you by my side, but you chose your family over me, every single time. Every family gathering you were invited to I was either left to fend for myself, pawned off to one of your friends, or brought along as your ‘platonic roommate’. What do you think that did to me? Do you think I’m happy?”
The raging storm calms as Chuuya’s breathing evens, lining his gaze with Dazai’s. Both of them are tired, exhausted.
“No, clearly not.” Is uttered so flatly that even Chuuya scares himself right now. He drops the keys on the shelf above the wall-hanging coat-rack. “Fine, have it your way. I’ll be back for my stuff in the evening.”
The only key he takes is a house key to ensure he can’t be locked out. Taking a long walk that lasts hours into the night as he tries to make sense. Years of built-up struggles crashing down all at once and blowing up.
He knows he’s not perfect, but his ire runs so deep that he can’t find it in himself to care and take that blame, not when the screaming voice of his mother rages from the speakers of his phone, demanding he call them.
‘A son of mine can’t be like this’ she says
‘I can’t believe I raised a sinful and misguided child all the way into adulthood’ she cries
It’s nothing compared to his dad’s texts. So vile that he can’t even recount them without breaking into sobs, having fought so long for their approval, having tried so hard to steer them ever so gently into the way that maybe they’d find it in themselves to love him as he really is, but that was taken away from him by no fault of his own.
He starts getting texts from mutual friends begging him to reconsider, that Dazai just wasn’t in his right mind, he probably didn’t mean to hurt Chuuya like that.
He’s inclined to believe them, because Dazai came out to uncaring and cold parents who had never given him a semblance of approval in their life to begin with. That’s harsh, and a little cruel, but it’s because of that that Dazai doesn’t understand what it’s like to lose everything.
Chuuya Nakahara hasn’t cried in years, and yet he continuously finds himself failing to hold the tears today. Every message begging him to take Dazai back, every message blaming him for Dazai’s actions, every comment from his family telling him how they can’t believe he chose to be this much of a blight on society. Mother wanted grandchildren, how dare he choose to be gay.
It’s said with so much disgust that by the end of the night Chuuya has no tears or fucks left to give. Returning to a quiet and empty house, packing up his essentials in boxes that he puts in his car. He leaves a month’s worth of rent on the table and a note telling Dazai that’s all the time he’s getting to either find a job himself or move in with one of their willing friends. He leaves the furniture he bought himself, not having the energy to stay for a single day longer.
*
When Chuuya leaves, the door slams again like it had when he came in, signifying that he’s well and truly alone now.
It’s safe to break on your own, tearing and clawing at your own sanity when thee’s nobody left to care if you hurt yourself. Dazai, deep in his consciousness it’s not like that, Chuuya still wouldn’t approve of that, so for today he holds off. Allowing himself to cry the emotions away in ways he hasn’t done for years.
Dazai knows what he did was wrong, oh so very wrong. It’s his final cry for help, the push for attention and desperate wish to not be ignored. Dazai wasn’t perfect and neither was Chuuya, they’d gone into it genuinely trying and wanting to fight the world together, but while Dazai had only Chuuya, Chuuya had everyone else.
He had family that ‘loved’ him, granted it was conditional love, but Dazai hadn’t even gotten that. No matter how well he did, his parents never even looked at him with a smile. All too eager to push him into sciences that bored him to no end. Even when he did that, the recognition still didn’t come, so he gave up and told them, only for them to go “Ok.” And that’s it.
He had nobody except Chuuya, but Chuuya’s fears and anxieties took him away from Dazai eventually, no matter how tightly Dazai clung to him, begging for him to stay. Begging Chuuya to just tell them, get it over with, so they can live, and every time it ended in painful dismissal. Dazai knows why, but he doesn’t understand it. Who wants the approval that comes so conditionally that you feel so terrified to be yourself even a little bit?
Why would he do that?
So he slumps against the hallway and cries, wails, sobs, as loudly as he can, like a child because he lost the last thing keeping him tethered to his humanity in a desperate bid to strengthen that chain.
He wants to blame Chuuya for everything, yell at him and scream that Chuuya abandoned him and that means he deserves it, but that’s vile, and Dazai knows it to be, knows his own stake in this far too well to play that game.
When he wakes in the morning the car is gone, a note and rent money left on the table seem like more than he deserves right now. So he’ll treasure the little time Chuuya gave him to that end, knowing it’s time to start learning learning to go outside again soon.
It’s empty, and so quiet. The guitar on the wall is gone and leaves a hole between the picture frames that becomes a visualiser for how Dazai feels right now.
It doesn’t take away the years of memories they shared, even when he wish he could take it all back. Wishes he could take back what Chuuya still means to him.
The first day is spent in one spot and nothing else. No energy to even lift his head or take his phone in his hand. The second day he forces himself to eat, and the third is the first time in a year he steps over the threshold of the house’s front door all on his own.
He’s forgotten how to live without Chuuya, but he knows he’ll have to live, somehow.
*
The alarm-clock rings violently to wake him from his sleep, grumpy as always, opening his eyes and being met with a sun so intense he instinctually closes them again. His partner woke up before him and opened the curtains, the asshole.
Still a smile breaks through his features when the smell of a well cooked breakfast invades him, excited at the prospect of being able to eat his boyfriend’s cooking first thing in the morning. The scent tells him of eggs and pancakes, a special occasion.
Getting up takes little effort with that promise waiting for him, throwing on some clothes and making his way to the kitchen. His partner stands with his back turned to Chuuya, giving him the opportunity to slip his arms around the others waist, pressing himself close against him.
“Morning sunshine,” he utters, “smells fuckin’ amazing, what’s the occasion?”
“Chuuya, you should be in bed still, it’s your day off! I had it all planned out, bringing you breakfast on the bed and all that.”
Chuuya laughs, “And getting crumbs all over my sheets? Hell fucking no, I do still love you though. What’s the occasion, Atsushi?”
Atsushi drops the pan and turns the stove off before turning to face Chuuya, “You really don’t remember, do you?” he says with an almost devilish grin. “Anniversary? It’s the second of May today?”
Chuuya hastily shoots a look at the calendar, “Oh fuck, that’s today?! I swear I didn’t forget that was our day I just-“ He’s interrupted by a sweet kiss that he melts into so effortlessly, “-didn’t, realise… it was today…”
“Mhmh, you are so very charming in the morning you know that.”
“That almost sounds Sarcastic, I’ll pretend it isn’t.”
Atsushi finishes plating the food and sets the table, finally prompting Chuuya to ask, “Hey wait, if it’s our anniversary why are you doing everything?”
“You’re kidding right? With how much work you do around the house, and how demanding your job is, I figured the least I could do is spoil you rotten on our shared day off.”
Chuuya stops dead in his tracks, a flash of discomfort sifting through his mind. Atsushi had bothered with all this because he thought Chuuya… deserved it?
He’s unsure on how to take that in, It’s exactly been one year since they started dating and they moved in together fairly quickly because Chuuya simply doesn’t do well alone, but he never realised that his habit of doing everything by himself far overstayed its welcome.
Atsushi sees the way Chuuya tenses and his eyes grow soft, taking Chuuya’s hands in his own, “This is a long overdue conversation huh,” is almost asked like he’s trying to reassure himself, “Chuuya, my dearest Chuuya, you’ve been doing so much, and I really appreciate it, but I’m afraid you’re overdoing it. I don’t want you to think you have to take care of me, we’re in this together you know?”
“Have I been- doing too much?” he almost asks with a blank expression, barely managing to contain the tears welling up on the corners of his eyes.
A hand carefully reaching up to his face, settling on his cheek with all the care and love in the world he never thought himself deserving of. “Yes,” Atsushi’s honest answer comes, “and I’m sorry it took me so long to notice, I promise I’ll pull my weight more as well, okay? I can try to find a better job so you won’t have to work as hard, or, maybe a second part-time job?”
This time Chuuya interrupts with a laugh, “Don’t do that, then you’ll be the one to come home overworked. I promise you though, compared to before it’s-“ he stills mid-sentence, as if possessed by a deep desire to hold his tongue and not speak the words.
It’s been three years, two of which were spent desperately trying to hold on to the bonds he’d made as they kept slowly slipping from his grasp, not all because they had an issue with his orientation, but some because they blamed him for the entire fight with-
“Shh, it’s okay. I’d never ask you to talk about it. I can’t judge someone I’ve never met, but please, Chuuya, let me be clear, your relationship wasn’t a healthy one by everything you’ve been telling me.”
“It’s my fault too-“ he croaks now, barely audible. Atsushi shakes his head, “Maybe it is, it’s often that way when two people fight, but that doesn’t take away from the fact that I can tell it left scars on you.”
“I probably did for him, too.”
“You want to know what I think? In all my brutal honesty?” Atsushi’s grin manages to pull a smile over Chuuya’s lips, “My dearest Atsushi, you have not a single bone in your body capable of brutal honesty.”
“Maybe, but I’d like to try?”
A kiss, chaste and light, the permission he’d asked for. “I think you both made mistakes and were too stubborn to address them in time, which led to everything cropping up and blowing out in their own ways. I’m almost hesitant to call it a little toxic, because I know you’re not the kind of person to intend anything bad there. I can’t judge him because I don’t know him personally, but to me it sounded like you both trapped each other in a relationship that wasn’t giving either of you what you really needed in the long run, does that make sense?”
A quiet moment, “Damn, honest Atsushi really doesn’t mince words huh.”
“No, he doesn’t” Atsushi smiles, “I’m only saying it because I love you and I’m afraid you’ll feel the need to do what you did with him, with me. I can take it Chuuya, I’m not him.”
Chuuya has known that for a while, when he met Atsushi the man wasn’t in his best mind either, a deeply traumatic shadow of a past haunts him still to this day, but the way in which he differs from Dazai is how he deals with that and his own mind.
“You and your fucking sweet shit…” burying his face in Atsushi’s dress-shirt, taking in all of his boyfriend as much as he can. “Kitten’s got claws,”
“And kitten will use them if needed, too, don’t ever forget that.”
A familiar -ding- rings through and Atsushi carefully pries Chuuya off of him, apologising for the fact that he’d rather not accidentally boil the eggs too long because both of them like them soft boiled, so Chuuya lets go with a smile.
He’s left to ponder, for just a small moment, the differences and similarities between what he had with Dazai, and what he has with Atsushi.
There are many things he can reflect back on fondly with Dazai, but what Atsushi says makes sense. He’s fully aware now, of his own faults and flaws, that the choices he made hurt Dazai along the years and that Dazai did what he did because he wasn’t able to find another way out, the nuclear option in hopes of trying to save that relationship and ending it instead.
Now Chuuya thinks them splitting is for the best, because their needs, neither of them, were met within what they had. Chuuya needed someone who could match him, reign him in when needed, someone who could find themselves in everything Chuuya loved. And Dazai needed someone unafraid of their relationship, someone who could take care of him and proudly show him off to prove that he’s worth everything.
Chuuya had wanted to, but was too scared, and Dazai’s depression often left him with a lack of energy that Chuuya found difficult to handle as the years went by. He never blamed Dazai for that, but that doesn’t mean he was happy in that situation either.
As Atsushi pours the boiling water in the sink, he turns to Chuuya with a smile. “Remember that little café? Across the library?”
“Of course I do, that’s where we met. What about it?”
“Oh nothing much, I just figured we could go there today, considering it’s where we met and all.”
The suggestions warms him from everything to his core, running all the way to his surface. Chuuya knows he’s practically glowing with how Atsushi looks at him right now. “Why not, should be fun, kitten.” He winks, garnering an eye-roll from his boyfriend.
*
“Okay, so, you want to go by the library, then what?”
“There’s a museum close by I want to see too, I’ve heard there’s some incredibly old books in their collection.”
“You and your notebook obsession. Kunikida-kun I thought we were taking this trip for me~” The blonde named Kunikida pushes his glasses up before serving a stern look to his companion, “Yes, we are, but I also want to do things I enjoy.”
In truth he has no objections to that, preferring to rile the blonde up a little before everything. Kunikida is at his most fun when he manages to get under his skin just a little. Passionate, a fire within that he loves to stoke.
“Oi, Dazai, stop trying to detour us, we have a schedule for a reason. It’s not often we find such golden opportunities for a trip with our jobs.”
“Yes, yes. I’ll behave, promise.” Dazai coos like a man with all the intent in the world not to stay true to his words and Kunikida pinches the bridge of his nose because he’s fully aware of that.
They find themselves skipping through the city, far away from Yokohama where they’d come from. It’s even further away from where Dazai used to live before he met Kunikida.
Sometimes, on bad nights, he still finds himself hung up on the events that transpired three years ago, the guilt and weight of his actions finally came crashing down on him a few weeks after he’d last seen Chuuya, when they mutual friends had all abandoned Chuuya and spoke about him behind his back in ways Dazai couldn’t fathom to agree with.
Sure they weren’t that good for each other, Dazai knows that now, but it’s he who should shoulder the largest portion of the blame for that. He did something he reckons Chuuya could never forgive him for, and now Dazai understandsthe pain and damage he truly caused.
It’s when he saw Chuuya again for the first time after that, that it really sunk in just how astronomically that act had affected the redhead’s life, coming with the realisation that even if they had stuck together Dazai would never have had the mental fortitude to fight by his side. He did that, not Chuuya, he.
Chuuya eventually moved away far from their town, and Dazai met Kunikida not much later after that. That’s the first time in his life Dazai’s tendencies and cries for attention were met with the exact energy he never knew he needed. Kunikida set him straight, never too stern, but also not always gentle with him, sooner or later he found himself falling for that. The uptight exterior that Kunikida exudes to others breaking away in favour of something Dazai craved more than ever before.
They moved to Yokohama, lived together, and thanks to Kunikida Dazai found encouragement and fulfilment in a job that allowed his intellect to shine while also being active enough where he gains the energy to make it through days even without Kunikida.
Kunikida has never been afraid or shy to show him off. Never afraid to be open about who he is and what he stands before, but Dazai also knows that Kunikida had already fought that battle long before they met. It’s not Chuuya’s fault that he had so much to lose and Dazai never truly realised that, but Dazai also knows he needed something else, someone like Kunikida.
“Oi.” Before he’s able to process it Dazai feels himself getting pulled closer, Kunikida’s arm wrapped around his waist, “Don’t think about unnecessary things okay? I can hear your brain all the way from here.”
“Hm, I’ll try, but you know why I’m here right?”
A sigh, “Yes, I do, but that doesn’t mean it needs to make you sad. You didn’t come here for that, right?”
Letting that statement wash over him to reset his mind helps, Kunikida is exceptional at saying just the right things when it really counts. More often than not he can be a little dense, and not always the best at reading Dazai, but that’s why he communicates so well.
They make it to their hotel and the check-in goes fairly smoothly, Dazai has never been great at the social stuff, good at pretending he is while practically dying inside, but with Kunikida he doesn’t need to because the man understands as much. Chuckling while looking at the bed they’ll end up sharing, Dazai can’t help but make a comment about it, “Kunikida-kun~ do you think the walls are thick enough here?”
He takes pride in the face of sheer annoyance that meets him halfway, “For you no walls are thick enough.”
That unexpected clap-back takes him out, if only because his partner usually doesn’t talk back to him that way. Kunikida pulls on his wrist and plants a quick kiss on his lips. “Seeing you react like that is definitely worth it.” He smiles now with Dazai wide-blown pupils still staring at him like the world is about to end.
Changing the subject matter, as Kunikida is always quick and swift to do, “So, how are you actually going to do this? I don’t think he’d appreciate you showing up at his house very much.”
A wave with his hand, “I don’t need to.”
“You sound like a creepy stalker, I hope you’re aware of that.”
A light chuckle that drops the final stretch of heavy atmosphere around them, “I am, I’m aware of that.”
He’s fully in the know that his wishes and desires are completely selfish ones. That what he wants to do is more to his own benefit than anyone else’s. He can’t help it though, no matter how much he tosses and turns, Kunikida’s arms around him during the night, the recurring nightmare won’t end, and he’s aware that it’s all his own fault to begin with.
“Just don’t make it worse than you already have, okay?”
“Encouraging words, I can see why you’re the person people avoid when they’re having struggles.”
“I mean it, Dazai. I know he wasn’t perfect to you either, but let’s not forget that what you did can very well be unforgivable.”
A sombre expression washes over him, replacing the smile that previously sat there, “He doesn’t have to forgive me.”
“As long as you’re aware of that.”
Dazai is, and despite everything, he’s grateful for those words. Because he understands Kunikida looks at it through an impartial lens. He’s not trying to pick a side, he sees it like it was and acts accordingly. Dazai needs that honesty to ground himself sometimes with a brain that more often than not tends to wallow in self-pity.
*
The café described is one Chuuya and Atsushi frequent, partially because it’s where they met about two years ago, and partially because the food is good and he likes the vibes it has.
It’s small and quaint, the elderly gentleman who runs the place is always pleasant towards them. He’s had his ears talked off by the man about coffee beans and the perfect blends. Atsushi is better at keeping up with that conversation that Chuuya is, if he had to be honest.
Now they’re here, and when Hirotsu hands them their orders with a small “Congratulations on your anniversary.”
It’s with appreciation that Chuuya takes the coffee from him, simply grateful that the man had remembered and bothered with that even though he hadn’t needed to.
He finds Atsushi absentmindedly swirling the spoon through his cup, lost in thought as his eyes are glazed over.
“You okay?” Chuuya won’t touch him when he gets like this, just so he won’t be shocked or scared out of his thoughts.
“Mhmhm.” He murmurs in response.
There’s a lot he wants to say to Atsushi today, a lot of thoughts whirring in his head that deserve to be spoken aloud, all waiting at the tip of his tongue for the moment he is ready to say them. The familiar café bell chimes and his curious mind can’t help but steer his gaze in the direction of the entrance.
Everything, all the words and thoughts die right there, lost to the whirlpool of instant regret and emotions that start to envelop him when that familiar face lines their gazes together.
He thought he’d feel more, all things considered. Anxiety, rage, hatred, but it’s nothing. He simply lost the capacity to feel that way about it. No doubt a result of the lingering guilt of his own stake in how wrong it all went.
Atsushi sees it, follows his eyes to where Dazai stands, wide-eyed and surprised he whispers “That’s him, isn’t it?”
Chuuya can only nod, so slow and subtly that he doesn’t even notice whether or not his body is actually moving.
Dazai looks the same, and yet everything around him is different, feels different. His clothes are well put together, his hair washed and brushed properly. The air he gives off isn’t one of sadness and wistful thinking, even a lack of a smile on his face doesn’t take away from the fact he looks… happy.
Dazai’s returned staring only lasts so long when he finds it in himself to take strides forwards himself. Atsushi’s eyes wander between the two of them before taking Chuuya’s hand in his own.
“Do you want to? I can leave you to it for a bit, with the library being right across.”
On their anniversary? Really?
“I-“ Chuuya starts to croak in guilt, but the remainder of the sentence dies when he sees the fondness in Atsushi’s eyes conveying how genuinely he doesn’t mind it. All in all this might even be good, a way to end the charging emotions that have stuck themselves in the pit of his stomach so stubbornly.
“I’ll be right across from here, promise. I love you.” Atsushi stands up to leave, but not before planting a kiss to Chuuya’s forehead. Reassuring him that he isn’t anywhere out of reach should Chuuya really need him, but willing to give him the space to talk about things that don’t concern him.
Dazai takes a chair from another table and drags it next to Atsushi’s now-empty seat. Not wanting to intrude on something that isn’t his place anymore.
There’s an awkward silence to start with that settles that anxiety Chuuya hadn’t felt before now, but he refuses to be the first one to speak up when it was so obviously Dazai who needed to be here.
After that long, agonising silence, Dazai finally speaks, “Long time no see?”
“That’s your opener? Really?” Chuuya shoots back, slightly annoyed.
“Yeah, well, it’s not like I really knew how to prepare for this-”
An interruption of “What are you doing here, Dazai?” while Chuuya takes a sip of his coffee out of habit. Something he always does when the uncertainty hits him a bit too much. Eating or drinking, busying his hands, anything to distract from that deafening half-silence. Space between awkward conversation and the lack of one at all.
Dazai fidgets with his hands while down-cast eyes fall upon the table-top. “I’m sorry for intruding.”
“So you know about that? Then why are you here?”
Instead of answering the question, Dazai tips his eyes to look at Chuuya properly now, “You look like you’re doing really well, I’ve never seen you this happy before.”
Chuuya opens his mouth as to say something, but closes it again without a single word.
“It’s been a while since we saw each other, but the last time I did you were in bad shape- so I guess it’s good that you at least, found something- or someone.”
Still no response, “I fucked up, bad. I know I did. It doesn’t matter what led up to it, or what you did, I know that now.”
“Yeah, well. I’m glad you recognise that at least…” Chuuya starts, “Don’t tell me you came all this way just to say that?”
“I did a lot of thinking, and I found someone to help me understand it better. That’s why I’m here, to-“ Dazai shifts in his seat, so clearly uncomfortable with the unspoken words hanging around him right now.
A deep sigh, Chuuya releasing his pent up annoyance and anger outwards because it won’t do either of them any good to let it run free. It’s a chance, for either of them to speak aloud what they couldn’t those years ago, and maybe Atsushi recognised that taking it would be for the best.
“We just, weren’t good for each other. And we shouldda recognised that so much earlier and done something with it instead of that annoying stubbornness we both held onto.” Chuuya finally says.
“I really did love you, but I didn’t have the energy to keep up with everything at once.”
Dazai nods, “And I needed someone to reassure me, maybe a little more than is healthy, so I felt like I was being hidden away out of shame.”
Down-cast eyes, Chuuya stares deep into the almost empty cup and waves Hirotsu to ask for another, less caffeine. They’re going to be there a while.
“I was, in a sense. Not ashamed of you necessarily, but of myself. I needed that validation from people who wouldn’t give it if they had known what you used to mean to me. I know it’s fucking awful, but I hope you realise that I spent years trying to cut frayed ties and cling onto the ones that mattered. My parents didn’t leave me alone for a long time, even after I met Atsushi they watched my every move like a goddamn hawk, in hopes to catch me out again.”
An understanding nod, “Did you? Cut the ties, I mean.”
“Eventually, when I fell for him, I wanted to keep him safe, and I wanted to avoid making the same mistake again.”
Dazai asks for his own drink, pouring the endless supply of sugar and milk in when it still isn’t to his taste, causing a slight chuckle to escape Chuuya at the sight, “You were always a weakling for bitter shit, why even order coffee? You hate the stuff”
“I like it the way Kunikida-kun makes it.”
“Then ask Hirotsu-san to make it the same way if you must order, idiot.”
“Communication wasn’t our strong suit, even while we stupidly thought it was.”
Chuuya rolls his eyes, “You always insisted you could read my mind because I was that easy to figure out.”
“Clearly, I was wrong. I never understood why you were so hung up on hiding who you are. I never understood until I saw what outing you- what I did to you.” His voice becomes hoarse and hands trembly, Chuuya sees it, hears it.
“I’m so sorry, Chuuya.”
It stumps the redhead, completely blindsides him to hear the apology that sounds more genuine than anything Dazai has ever said to him.
“I know nothing I say will make it right, and I can’t take it back.” He takes a glance back towards the library, “but I’m genuinely glad to see you found someone who can make you feel like wanting to be yourself, proud of it.”
He won’t cry, he’s not going to fucking cry.
“Oi, shitty mackerel.”
Dazai’s surprise at the old nickname making a return quickly makes way for a short bout of laughter. “You look like you’re about to cry, slug.”
“Whose fucking fault is that?” He almost regrets not asking for alcohol instead.
“Holy shit you’re actually crying, that’s a first!” Dazai points out.
Chuuya sends him a glare while aggressively wiping his eyes, “Don’t you fucking dare. You can’t just come here out of nowhere and- and apologise? Like you mean it? You’ve never done that during the six years we were together what the fuck?!”
“Yeah, not sorry about that.”
“God, you’re insufferable. For what it’s worth, I shouldn’t have done what I did either.”
Dazai’s face morphs into a smirk that spells far less good than Chuuya would like, “So, where’s my apology then?” he asks in a sing-song kind of voice, prompting Chuuya’s annoyance to return in full swing, “How about I shove it up your ass.”
“Oho, would your boyfriend really be okay with that, Chuuya~? I know Kunikida-kun wouldn’t be, but-“
“Shut. Up.” Chuuya demands. Shockingly, Dazai listens and quiets down, finishing his drink in the process.
“I know this is hard to believe, but I really didn’t come here expecting forgiveness or an apology in return. I know what I did is far worse, I should’ve known better.”
“Good, cuz you ain’t getting an apology from me. Forgiveness though, we can see about that.”
“Oh?”
With slow and drawn out motions, Chuuya takes the phone out of his pocket and scrolls around some, finding Dazai’s contact, still blocked, and does something he never thought he would.
He sends a text, just to watch Dazai’s response, to see if his number is even still the same one. A -ping- coming from Dazai’s phone tells him it is, and the unreadable expression Dazai wears upon opening the message is far more priceless than Chuuya really wants to admit.
“You sure?” The brunette asks in a stupor.
A nod, “We may not have worked out in a relationship, but maybe, if you can learn to be less insufferable, I wouldn’t mind giving friendship another try.”
For better or worse, this time it’s Dazai’s eyes that grow watery.
“Look what you’ve done! Ugly slugs have no business making people cry.” Is spoken softly through the sleeve his face hides in, prompting Chuuya to laugh in a lighthearted, but mocking way before shooting back a sarcastic, “Only have yourself to blame.”
He sends Atsushi a text asking him to come back, “We can talk all sorts of things through, but I feel like we both have other priorities to attend to now. Don’t you think?”
“Ah right, your date that I crashed, oopsie.”
“Don’t you ‘oopsie’ me, asshole. You knew what you were doin.”
“I did.”
He can see Atsushi through the glass front and sends him a reassuring smile, telling him it’s okay to come in. Dazai gets up, hands in the pockets of his slacks and putting on that front of charm and confidence he’s used to putting on for people he doesn’t know too well.
Atsushi’s face betrays he’s aware of the façade, but he doesn’t call Dazai out on it either. “Are you okay?” Atsushi asks Chuuya directly, moving past Dazai. Chuuya can tell Atsushi has his reservations about the brunette still and Chuuya can’t blame him for that either.
He’s appreciative of that fact, Atsushi wasn’t kidding about his claws and Chuuya knows how protective the man can be, it’s always been a thing about Atsushi that sent Chuuya into a tizzy, warmth spreading through him at the thought that someone will absolutely fight for him, someone who knows who he is truly.
“Yeah, all good.” He responds with a smile before pulling Atsushi closer by his waist, a contact point that Chuuya has come to favour in public (Atsushi has a nice waist anyway). Dazai looks at them with a genuine expression and that’s all Chuuya needs to know it’s really okay, Dazai was able to move on as much as Chuuya has.
It’ll probably still be a little bit strained until they get to sort through all their issues, but the fact they get that chance is already a miracle on its own.
“You should go back to your boyfriend, whoever he is.”
Dazai blinks, “How’d you-“
“Please,” Chuuya scoffs, “I know you a little better than that despite everything. This Kunikida you mentioned isn’t just ‘some guy’ to you.”
Dazai makes a funny expression that ends with Chuuya laughing at him, but he does leave and the moment they can catch a moment of privacy Chuuya finds himself clinging to Atsushi like he did this morning.
“He apologised.” Its spoken softly against the fabric of Atsushi’s dress shirt. Public spaces be damned he needs this right now, Atsushi’s arms encircling him while Chuuya tightly winds his fingers through the fabric of his boyfriend’s shirt.
“I’m glad he did.” The soft strokes through his hair help get him back down to earth, where he needs to be. “I’m so proud of you, for having that conversation.”
“Shut up.” Chuuya sobs again, “I hate this. We’re still at the café, don’t make me cry even more than I already did you ass.”
Atsushi giggles and places a kiss at the crown of his hair. “Whatever you say, your royal highness.” In a joking manner that comes off so ridiculous that Chuuya can’t help but shake the tears in favour of laughter at it.
With all this out of the way, Chuuya finally feels free, like a tiny part of his shadow that kept haunting him and following him around has disappeared, finally fully at peace.
*
Dazai enters the library with a newfound peace, feeling like he can finally put it somewhat behind him. He wasn’t expecting Chuuya to hear him out all things considered, and neither was he expecting Chuuya’s willingness to rekindle any sort of friendship with him.
It’s strange to be at the mercy of one’s emotions and have them be gentle with them instead. He’d never known Chuuya to be intentionally unkind or cruel unless you deserved it, but Dazai had counted himself among that group.
Chuuya looked happy, and his boyfriend seemed like the kind to really fight for him under all circumstances, that relieved him to no end.
Kunikida stands at the very end with his nose buried in all sorts of different books, if Dazai didn’t know any better he’d think the man had built himself a fort of them around him. It’s a funny sight for sure even when Dazai knows it was already like that before.
Because he’s in an exceptionally good mood after that, despite the fact he was embarrassing enough to cry in front of Chuuya, he decides to sneak up to the man, keeping his footsteps light while he slowly approaches him from behind. Kunikida is far too absorbed to notice so when Dazai tackles him in a hug from behind him, the scream that erupts with them in the centre causes a slight stir until the other patrons notice it’s nothing more than some young lovers shenanigans.
“Are you absolutely crazy!?” Kunikida manages to yell while still whispering, “This is a library.”
“Oh but Kunikida-kun, I was very quiet! That scream came from you, if I remember correctly.”
If they hadn’t been in a public space, the man would’ve probably strangled him on the spot with the look he’s being given.
Before he can even fathom it Kunikida is dragging him away, possibly and partially out of shame for his outburst, but also for a reason Dazai can only speculate on.
Despite the set schedule they’re back in the hotel room soon afterwards. And while his brain is working at lightyears per second right now, he still finds himself caught off-guard when Kunikida caresses his face softly and wipes his cheeks clean.
“You cried.” Is the observation. Concern and pride both swirling around behind the man’s eyes, ever clear despite those pesky glasses he insists on wearing that obscures them more often that Dazai would like.
“Pft, it’s no big deal!” Dazai tries to insist, and instead is met with a hum before he’s pulled closely against Kunikida’s frame. The man’s strength has never been anything to scoff at and Dazai would never admit out loud how it makes him feel to know that Kunikida could probably break him in half without much effort, every time he’s reminded of that fact he can feel the heat rising to his face and the only thing left to do is hide when that happens.
“You were gone longer than I expected, so I take it went some way you didn’t prepare for.”
“He said he wasn’t ready to forgive me…yet… but was willing to try giving friendship another go.” Dazai mumbles, uncharacteristically honest and blunt with his partner, for once.
“That’s good then, far better than you expected.”
“He also, inadvertently admitted that he was in the wrong, though he refused to apologise.” His tone is pouting now, hearing the bouts of breath coming from Kunikida’s chest, “Traitor, you’re not supposed to laugh at me!”
“I don’t think you really cared for him to do that, nor do you think he owes you one.”
“You’re annoying when you’re like this, go back to being dense please!”
The hold on him tightens and Dazai sinks against the feeling of it, lets himself be taken in by the warmth and safety it provides. “You’re a child sometimes, but I’m willing to put up with that.”
“Meanie.”
“I don’t need to be told that by someone who makes it his life’s mission to mess with my schedules and ideals.”
“And still, here you are.”
“You’re right, here I am.”
The smile is something he can’t see from his position, but it’s heard so clearly through the way he speaks.
Maybe he does fail to hold back the urge to cry again, but it does feel great to let go and finally have the ability to truly start over.
Both of them can finally put things behind them, and the fact they can still be in each other’s lives in some capacity is a miracle both are grateful for.