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A radiance of warm violet transgressing to a yellowish orange glistened against not only the glass walls of the skyscrapers in the city surrounded by sea, but also towards the water enveloping the city. White wisps of stars glazed the sea from where the almost pinkish sun between purplish and orange to where Atsushi stood. The gentle dances of the wind blowing his hair softly only enhanced the setting of the sun beyond the horizon and added tiny ripples and subtle waves by the shore.
“Nice view, isn’t it?”
Atsushi’s gaze jumped from that same view of Yokohama, the city that almost didn’t survive if Dazai didn’t trust him enough to face Francis and put a stop to the Moby Dick’s descent, to the man whose rich brown locks swayed against his face.
“You protected it.” His eyelids hid his deep brown eyes for a second, before they met Atsushi’s with a slight tug in the corner of his lips. His gaze ever the softest they can ever be. “It’s your city.”
As if Dazai’s eyes were glass, or maybe a mirror, they reflected that same sunset view. No, they seem to be reflecting a more purple and yellow—ah. Atsushi’s eyes. It’s as if Atsushi could see his own eyes while he stared at Dazai’s brown ones.
A smile crept up to Atsushi’s lips as he blinked away from Dazai’s almost loving gaze and travelled back to the glistening sea. Content and something refreshing, perhaps some sort of warmth climbed up his system until his skin felt fuzzy and his heart, full.
But, would Atsushi protecting this city even ever happen if it wasn’t for Dazai? If he hadn’t met him in the first place—no, if Dazai hadn’t trusted Atsushi enough, he wouldn’t have been able to pull it off.
If Atsushi ever said that out loud, Dazai would probably insist that he knew Atsushi could do it, and that maybe he just didn’t believe in himself.
That may be it too, but, is it wrong?
Is it wrong to feel that Dazai believing in him beyond a hundred percent was what made all this happen? That if it wasn’t for Dazai—his complete trust—Yokohama would’ve been saved in another way. Not by Atsushi with the help of Akutagawa, Kyoka, and some others, but just, something else. Or by someone else. This is Dazai, after all. He could’ve figured out how to protect this city even without Atsushi.
But is it wrong to think that Dazai believed Atsushi was an integral part of Yokohama’s safety? That perhaps, it was because he could have someone like Atsushi he could place his trust on, that made all this possible? Is it wrong to think that way?
Maybe not.
“My city, huh?” Atsushi whispered, although pretty sure Dazai heard it.
That has such a nice and comforting ring to it.
This was the city where Atsushi met Dazai, after all.
-
All this rubble and the catharsis that was left behind in this cruel place of broken blocks and wirings piling up the surrounding—and yet, the view of the bluish sky slowly changing to something more purplish, and then maybe yellowish, lightened up the atmosphere.
Atsushi who stood next to Kyoka watched the sun rising lightening up all the debris and leftovers of the destroyed building. The city was no longer engulfed in a nefarious and dangerous fog that rendered the air toxic and the sky a dark green. The city is safe once again.
Atsushi and Kyoka swiveled around when someone’s footsteps behind them slowly calmed down as his feet dragged along the stone floor, his hands etched inside his light brown coat’s pockets.
“Atsushi-kun, what I did earlier…” Dazai started, Kyoka only half-facing him, while Atsushi’s body faced him entirely.
“You…” Atsushi tilted his head a bit to a side, a smile reaching his eyes and warming up his expression. “You tried to protect this city.”
Dazai closed his eyes, perhaps in disbelief, and his tone reeking a little bit of mockery, he said, “Do I look like such a good person?”
Maybe Dazai could feel Kyoka’s intense stare at him, as if already saying no. And maybe he didn’t expect anyone to think he’s a good guy in any sort of way. After all, he was an ex-member of the mafia—he killed, tortured, and did illegal things he’d rather Atsushi not know of.
“Yeah, why?”
Both Kyoka and Dazai instantly perked up and looked at Atsushi’s neutral expression. How could this guy even believe Dazai is a good person? He’s not.
He’s really not.
Dazai recovered from the surprise immediately, closing his eyes and refusing to hold off his smile.
“Well, whatever.”
Atsushi blinked and flinched a bit when Dazai’s smile faded almost instantly after he let go of those words.
Dazai walked past them and they followed him with their gazes. Dazai stopped just a few feet behind Atsushi, his head facing the sunrise.
“I hope he managed to stave off his boredom and loneliness.” Dazai was probably talking about Shibusawa.
Still, Kyoka couldn’t quite help but ask.
“Is this really what you wanted?”
Dazai turned his head around to meet Kyoka and Atsushi’s gaze, but he had his eyes closed, as if deep in thought. “Just as Shibusawa was able to forget he’d been killed before, I think Dazai-san can put his past behind him again.”
Yes, that’s right.
While Atsushi is well aware that Dazai was an ex-member of the Port Mafia, and could of course figure out vague ideas of what he used to do in there as a former executive member too, he believed that doesn’t hold Dazai back from becoming better than what he used to be.
Atsushi opened his eyes, gaze on the ground. “But this is fine.” Dazai and Kyoka continued to stare at him. “At least, for now, I’m proud we were able to protect this city together.”
Atsushi glanced at Kyoka, a smile full of warmth and joy reaching out to her. “I think it’s at least a little more beautiful to live on with you and the others.”
Kyoka’s eyes widened a bit, before she returned his smile. And Dazai, he couldn’t have resisted any more to allow his lips to form a slightly wide smile as he shut his eyes in content.
“Hey!”
Atsushi’s eyes widened, before he turned around to face the caller—it’s everyone!
Oh, if they only knew how worried Atsushi was when they all got separated. When he could no longer find anyone and only hope that by the end of this all, they will all be safe and alive.
Atsushi, Kyoka, and Dazai all couldn’t help but to smile in delight as Kunikida referred to them as boneheads, but was apparently happy to reunite with them like this after all the chaos.
“Everyone’s safe!” Atsushi exclaimed, a pang of overflowing ease taking over the worry he had this entire time.
“Of course.” Dazai replied, gazing down still with the same smile. “We’re the Armed Detective Agency, after all.”
Atsushi glanced to his right, and met Dazai’s smiling brown eyes. “Right?”
And he couldn’t suppress to return that same, or even a brighter smile that inevitably reached his eyes.
“Yes.”
Even if no one believed Dazai could become a better person that what he used to be, be it because of the past or because of his present behavior of laziness, trolling, and overall shenanigans, Atsushi would beg to differ.
Because if it wasn’t for Dazai, he would’ve been dead by now. Be it through starvation, or through getting captured and killed by other organizations.
Because why else would Dazai led him to a boat suitable for one person only, even when he nearly believed that such a worthless man that he is wouldn’t be allowed to have a second chance at life?
Whether Dazai simply felt bad for him or manipulated him into this for the betterment of Yokohama, or for the world, or for something else, Atsushi simply couldn’t believe that Dazai right now, is a bad person.
Even if, or when he was, that doesn’t automatically mean he can’t become good.
At least, that’s what Atsushi wanted to believe.
-
“Atsushi-kun.”
Dazai picked up his flute that sat on the railings of the ship with a smile, leaning his hand forward that held the glass of sparkling wine.
From that same, beautiful sunset view of the city that was farther away now since they’re currently aboard a fabulous cruise ship, Atsushi turned his body to his left.
After that short talk regarding his temporary partnership with Akutagawa, they’ve fallen into a brief but comforting silence. And now, again, Dazai called out to him.
With the way he was holding his glass and having it stay between them… Is he offering a toast?
Atsushi’s right hand had been holding his own flute since he came to this side of ship to find Dazai, and so, Atsushi glanced up to him with a bit of wonder in his voice.
“What are we toasting to?”
Dazai lifted his hand slightly, the white wine in the flute swirling gently. But that wasn’t where Atsushi’s gaze stayed the longest.
The setting sun peeked nearly behind Dazai, and yet, the way Atsushi sees it, he’s brightening up. Is it his formal attire? Or the smile on his face that was directed to, who knows, none other than Atsushi?
Or is it his deep brown eyes? The shadow casting over them because of his locks that waltz with the wind along with Atsushi’s own silver strands bumping his face? Or maybe the way he looked at Atsushi?
Whichever it was, he couldn’t resist his stare.
“To the stray dogs.”
Stray dogs. Heh.
A fitting ring to it hovered over Atsushi’s thoughts, and maybe that slight wistfulness reflected from his eyes too since the glint in Dazai’s own eyes seemed to glisten more. He smiled and lifted up his glass.
“To the stray dogs.”
With the cling of their flutes bumping their edges together ever so soothingly and satisfyingly, Atsushi’s thoughts ran about.
Truly, to have met Dazai, who may have been a stray dog like everyone else, who was also searching for something while Atsushi searched for something himself…
I suppose I’m glad to be a stray dog.
He wanted to blurt out, but he resisted the urge to.
But because he was led astray due to his past, he found a home. Here, in Yokohama. Here, within the Armed Detective Agency, maybe.
And perhaps, also, in Dazai himself.
If one could consider a person their home, then Atsushi would’ve immediately, no second thoughts, would answer the question of ‘where is your home’ right away.
Wherever Dazai-san is.
-
‘Wake up, Atsushi-kun.’
…Who is that?
Someone familiar. Someone Atsushi knew. Someone Atsushi cared about. Someone who cared about Atsushi. Someone Atsushi loved. Someone who loved Atsushi…
‘Wake up. There’s no time.’
Wake up…? Where am I right now…?
‘Wake up.’
His face, whoever that was that kept calling out to Atsushi, was a blur. Atsushi couldn’t recognize it much. His hair was practically covering his eyes, and his voice was husky, and reeked so much of warning and urgency, and yet, something about his existence in Atsushi’s mind was gentle and soothing, and… and… heartwarming.
‘Hurry.’
With a tap of the man’s finger on his forehead, Atsushi’s eyes immediately shot open. That was Dazai, wasn’t it? But, he’s not here. Where is he? No, where is Atsushi?
Oh.
It happened again. Dazai spoke to him again in his subconscious. Always right there telling him, reminding him, to never give up. To not be naïve and to keep moving forward. To wake up and hurry up… But why?
Atsushi looked around, and he could barely do so. His body was strapped to a table, or maybe a bed, which explains why he couldn’t move. And his mouth was covered by something like bandages or was it a tape? He couldn’t tell.
But something around him was making a low noise. Something from somewhere around him kept beeping. What was it?
With all the trials of looking around, he saw her—that hunting dog member. Her own pair of candy pink eyes widened when she met his eyes.
That’s right. Atsushi can’t give in to this person.
Atsushi can’t give up. Not now, not ever. Not when Dazai never gave up on him.
Whatever and however Dazai is doing or going through right now, Atsushi prayed and hoped he come out of it alive. And then someday, soon, once he also got himself out of this predicament, maybe, definitely, they’ll meet each other again.
And they will both be okay, then. Maybe with some scratches, or stabs, or blood spraying through their clothes, or a broken bone, or anything—as long as they’re both alive, they will meet again.
Yes. Atsushi squinted.
Sometime soon…
I wish to see and reunite with him again.