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The moon will sing a song for me, I love you like the sun.
- crane wives
Cold. It was so cold. The very crux of his being, getting frozen over, solidifying him and his worth in icy stone.
Dazai woke up with a choked gasp. Cracking his eyes open he was met with moonlight streaming into the room. The first thing he managed to register was the cold bite of the night. That’s unusual, Chuuya always made sure to turn on the heater before bed because Dazai was prone to the cold.
Speaking of Chuuya, Dazai couldn’t help but wonder where the redhead was. Pushing himself upright, Dazai looked around the room and couldn’t help but feel the quiet to be eerie.
He noticed the room was far more messy than usual, Chuuya never let the house, let alone their bedroom, get messy. Maybe he was having a bad day? Dazai frowned at the idea, deciding he wanted to clean up the room when he’s free to surprise Chuuya.
Now the urge to see Chuuya was overwhelming, there were clear signs of Chuuya being home. From his phone charging on the bedside to his clothes for the next day ( Dazai is guessing ) being
thrown haphazardly on the floor. ( On the floor? Usually Chuuya took the utmost pride in displaying his ridiculously expensive wardrobe )
Dazai’s resolve hardened and the only thing he wanted to do was find Chuuya, he was quick in making his way out of his bed to the door. Dazai has never been more glad their floor was wood and not marble. He was already shivering despite wearing a long sleeved shirt and a thick jacket.
Exiting the room, Dazai's eyes caught a familiar shade of orange and he smiled.
“Chuuya, what are you doing out here?” Dazai calls out.
No response, weird.
When he rounded the corner, Dazai was caught unexpectedly by the visual. His dear Chuuya, surrounded by bottles among bottles of alcohol. Now, Chuuya is a drinker. That’s been established, but not to this extent. Dazai doesn’t remember seeing Chuuya drink this much in years. ( Note : last time he did it was when he spied on Chuuya after he left, no he wasn’t concerned just curious )
Wasting no time, Dazai called out to Chuuya again. Chuuya was probably asleep if his slumped posture said anything. Placing a hand on the ginger's shoulder, Dazai revered how warm Chuuya was under his fingertips. The heat tingled on his fingers to worm its way into his very heart. Not wanting to startle Chuuya, Dazai didn’t shake him but instead very pointedly squeezed his shoulder trying to wake him up.
“Samu’?” For a brief moment Dazai saw Chuuya’s face brighten then falling back to something darker, more void, more empty. Dazai didn’t like that look, he has seen it on himself far too many times.
“Yes Chuuya, come on what happened?”
Dazai strains his ears but he barely hears whatever Chuuya is mumbling. Besides that, he was ignored. Again. Pushing back the gripping hurt in his chest as Chuuya stumbled off the tabletop stool and staggered towards the bedroom. Not even glancing at Dazai.
Rude.
Okay whatever, maybe Dazai did something to piss Chuuya off. Wouldn’t be the first time. ( Dazai wants to ignore the hypocrisy of it being Chuuya saying they needed better communication )
Dazai sighed heavily before heading back to the bedroom, he’ll clean up in the morning. When he reached the room, he saw Chuuya sprawled along the entire bed. Already asleep. Barely any space left for him. Okay whatever Dazai did he would like to remember it now, it wasn’t fun being ignored and having his bed space taken up.
He decided on just inching Chuuya’s limbs to his side of the bed and if Dazai took all the covers leaving none for his beloved, so what?
( despite being swaddled in blankets, he was still so cold )
The next morning Dazai awoke as he usually did. Not at all. He only woke up once he heard a loud crash and it’s subsequently a little clicking. The sound. Loud and piercing. Dazai could recognise it anywhere. He threw himself off the bed, he had to blink rapidly to focus his vision. Not exactly your normal alarm clock but it got the job done.
He already had an inkling of what to expect but that didn’t make the scene itself less heartbreaking. Chuuya was standing in the middle of the living room, broken pieces of a glass bottle (thankfully it had been empty) scattered around him.
The only saving grace would be Chuuya wearing his gloves, meaning he didn’t accidentally cut his hands. While being weird because Chuuya was still in his home clothes, no use for his gloves, Dazai won’t complain.
What he does know was that the bottle breaking was no accident. Chuuya was many things, clumsy was not one of them. He'd be dead if it were. With Chuuya’s ability, even if he were to be clumsy, he could just use his ability to ensure it didn’t break.
There was no way it would have broken, or even touched the ground. No, it broke because Chuuya wanted it to break. Eyeing the bottle more carefully, Dazai noticed that it was the Chateau Cheval Blanc 1947. A brand he recognised to be one that Chuuya cherished, he remembered searching up the price of it once and had to do a double take.
Who in their right minds would pay that much for a bottle of expired grape juice?!
What was Chuuya saving it for again?
He digresses, there was no way Chuuya would have drunk all of that and then broken the bottle (which probably costs more than one of his limbs) without prompt. Dazai racked his brain for something he did to piss Chuuya off but nothing came to mind. If anything he has been kinder, being able to let go of more and open up.
He thought he was doing well. He thought Chuuya thought he was doing well.
Was he not doing well?
“FUCK DAMMIT YOU BASTARD!” The pure anguish from Chuuya made Dazai stop thinking all together. Staring at Chuuya, who was unmistakably shedding tears, Dazai for once in his life was at a loss for words.
“Chuuya…”
But before he could continue Chuuya stormed towards the bedroom door, slamming the door shut. Dazai swore he felt the building shake. The impact of the slam made the hinges rattle and the frame crack. Seems he triggered his ability.
Dazai knew better than to disturb Chuuya. If he wanted to talk to him, he would.
Chuuya left the room a few moments later. Dazai had taken it upon himself to clean up the mess, he thinks he did quite well. When Chuuya left the room, he was in more formal attire. Not his usual getup but he was definitely planning to go out.
Chuuya glanced at where the glass bottle had been scattered and scoffed. Dazai narrowed his eyes at Chuuya.
‘Seriously? He’s upset because I cleaned up after him. Come on, at least take the olive branch I’m dangling in front of you.’
Chuuya moved his gaze and stared straight at him, Dazai opened his mouth to say something. But once again, he didn’t get the chance to because Chuuya just headed for the front door.
“Chuuya what the hell?”
Dazai rushed into the bedroom to get himself ready, he had time to bandage himself so long sleeved turtleneck will do, maybe it’ll even get Chuuya talking to him. He always says how he finds Dazai hot in turtlenecks. Dazai can’t seem to remember why though.
He didn’t even get a chance to grab his belongings before hearing a door slam again, however this time it’s the front door. Dazai was glad they decided to drill the photo frames into the walls now instead of hanging them. He didn’t want to clean up more broken glass.
He followed after Chuuya’s footsteps and left the house, not bothering to turn anything off.
Dazai quickened his pace to match Chuuya’s, where the hell was he going anyway. Chuuya didn’t even acknowledge him, which is now something Dazai is expecting which kinda hurts. The ginger kept his gaze locked ahead of him and strived with purpose.
And Dazai really wants to know what that purpose is because clearly it’s so important.
While rushing to get out and follow his lover, Dazai forgot to grab a coat and of course, because his luck is fantastic, today was one of Yokohama’s colder days. How fantastic.
Lucky him, his husband is basically a heat radiator. A mini microwave, emphasis on the mini. Even through being beside him, Dazai felt warmer. So he pressed into Chuuya, not risking hand holding. A smile graced Dazai’s face when Chuuya didn’t pull away.
He even seemed to slow down, okay progress. The warmth Chuuya emitted seeped into Dazai’s skin. Curling around every bone and every muscle, warming him up inside and out. He felt so safe and at home beside his Chuuya. He hopes whatever they are going through gets resolved soon, he wants to indulge in the warmth. To be able to bask in all that is Nakahara Chuuya.
Halfway through the journey, Dazai figures out where they are going. A path he’s walked many times and intends to walk for the rest of his life. Oh Dazai thinks he understands. He’s surprised it took him this long, he must be losing his touch.
Chuuya’s always been so sweet, even when they were fighting he’d accompany Dazai to meet Odasaku, as he usually did every other Sunday. Dazai smiled softly and spared a glance at Chuuya, who seemed less uptight now.
“Thank you Chuuya,”
Chuuya’s face softened as they approached the gates of the cemetery, together.
Dazai was so lucky.
Climbing the hill has always been relatively easy for Dazai but for some reason, it wasn’t today. Maybe it was the stress.
What was he stressed about again?
Right the fight.
With who?
Chuuya. The argument with Chuuya that is making him so upset with Dazai. Chuuya went ahead and Dazai couldn’t blame him. He was glad the other wasn’t teasing him for his inability to climb a small hill.
When he finally reached the top, he automatically gazed at Odasaku’s grave, expecting to see Chuuya on the opposite side of the tree overhead Odasaku’s grave. Where he usually sat to give Dazai a semblance of privacy.
But he wasn’t. Actually he was standing in front of a seemingly new headstone. For being a regular at this cemetery, and at this particular spot. Dazai has memorised the grids of the place, where there was and wasn’t a body of the deceased.
This headstone was new, what intrigued Dazai was that the headstone was empty. Nothing carved out except a simple looking engraving Dazai couldn’t make out.
Looking at Chuuya, Dazai furrowed his eyebrows in concern at the emotion in Chuuya’s eyes. He has always been the more emotive between the two of them and it wasn’t rare that Dazai found himself floored by how much Chuuya felt.
Nevertheless, this was different. There was a grief in his eyes. Casting a storm that snuffed out the flame inside of him.
“Samu’ fuck…” Chuuya forced out. His voice sounded raw, whether it be from emotion or screaming, Dazai would bet on it being both.
Dazai rushed to Chuuya’s side, wanting to offer whatever comfort he could. Tempted to wipe the tears beading along Chuuya’s eyes but not wanting to disrupt the intimacy of the moment.
“I was the one supposed to kill you, you fucker,”
Oh.
Oh.
It was his grave.
Glancing back at the headstone, he could make out the words engraved in what is unmistakably Chuuya’s handwriting.
‘the moon will sing a song for you
rest well
yours forever and always’