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“The stars are so pretty tonight, aren’t they, Chibi?”
An excitable voice full of wonder rings through a young Chuuya’s ears.
It had been a couple of days since he had activated Corruption and he was still stuck in the hospital due to his various injuries. Dazai had come to visit him under the guise of annoying the crap out of him, at least it seems that way to Chuuya. Dazai had even said something about “keeping his dog entertained” or some shit like that.
“I can barely move, mackerel , I can’t see anything from here,” Chuuya complains from the hospital bed. “And stop calling me ‘Chibi’!”
Dazai turns from the window. “But you’re so small. How could I not call you ‘Chibi’?”
“I’m only sixteen, I’m not done growing yet!”
“I’m going to make a wish on a star that Chibi stops growing!” Dazai says, facetiously. Chuuya rolls his eyes at that before complaining and protesting but Dazai doesn’t seem to care. He just turns toward the window and clasps his hands together like he’s about to pray. “Oh pretty stars in the sky, I wish that Chuuya will stay short forever!”
“That’s not even how you’re supposed to wish on stars! You dumb mackerel!” Chuuya yells as Dazai finishes his wish.
“You’re just mad you’re going to stay short forever!” Dazai says, sticking out his tongue at Chuuya. “Now, what do you want to wish for? I’ll make a wish for you because you can’t see the stars.”
Chuuya blinks, taken aback by Dazai’s words and his kindness to offer such a thing. “W-what?” He stutters.
“I said, I’ll make your wish for you,” Dazai clarifies. “Maybe you need to wish for better ears so you can hear my beautiful voice!”
Chuuya rolls his eyes and thinks of an actual wish. It doesn’t take him too long to come up with one, but his partner is always a bit impatient.
“Come on, Chuuya! You’re taking too long!” Dazai whines.
“Give me a second, will ya?” Chuuya snaps back.
“The stars are going to give up on you! They just told me!”
“Ugh, fine!” Chuuya finally relents. “Tell them, I wish that my stupid partner would shut up!”
The two begin bickering like schoolchildren, but Chuuya can’t help but appreciate the moment as juvenile as it is. Though the two always seem to be arguing, even over petty stuff, Chuuya was happy that some twisted fate has given him Dazai.
Later that night, after Dazai has finally left, Chuuya gathers his strength and walks to the window. Hopefully, the stars would be gracious enough to allow him another wish, as greedy as his action is.
His blue eyes look up to the sky from his hospital room. He finds the brightest star he can, and makes his wish.
I wish that no matter what, Dazai and I will always be there for each other. No matter how many worlds apart we may be.
----
Chuuya had felt this way too many times to count. The aches running through his arms were nothing he hadn’t experienced before, even this pounding headache could be considered an old friend. His body was overheating, like a fire had been lit on his skin and his eyes weren’t sending reliable images to his brain. Words like ‘awful’ and ‘miserable’ were too light to describe this.
“Chuuya?” A voice from the ether calls to him.
He mumbles at the mention of his name but can’t muster up the energy to answer properly.
A hand lays across his forehead. “Dear! You’re burning up!” They exclaim, moving their hand away.
Chuuya is familiar with this voice, but all his brain supplies him with is an older sister. Even though he swears he doesn’t actually have any siblings. He’s not sure, his body aches too much to discern what is real and what is not.
“You’re not going to work today.” The woman continues, “Mori will just have to accept that.”
Another name that sounds like it should be familiar to him. Somebody important. His head still hurts so much. Yet, nothing comes to Chuuya.
“I’ll be back, Chuuya,” The woman says like she’s made up her mind about something. “I’ll get you some medicine and a cold compress; we’ve got to get that fever down.”
None of that quite registers to Chuuya as his body pulls him into sleep.
Chuuya’s eyes finally open after a while to the sight of the ceiling above him. He reaches up to his forehead and something cold meets his hand. He remembers the woman from before. That must have been Kouyou Ozaki, he thinks back. She must have put this on his head while he was sleeping. She really is like a kind older sister.
When he woke up the last time, he believed that he was experiencing Post-Corruption. A state where he feels the residual pains of letting a god of destruction take control of his body. These two situations seem similar but this isn’t caused by an angry god. More like invading germs that had entered his bloodstream.
He’s sick.
And it doesn’t seem to be a typical cold either, the way his body is sweating tells him that this must be a fever, as Kouyou had said earlier.
Chuuya sighs, realizing that he won’t be able to do much today. Kouyou had told him to stay in bed and he wouldn’t dare to defy her orders. Admitting defeat, he rolls over on his side to hopefully get some sleep. It's now that he spots something on his end table. A bottle of medicine and a glass of water sits atop a piece of paper.
Carefully, he moves both the bottle and the glass before bringing the note to his face.
Dear Chuuya,
You were fast asleep when I got back and I didn’t want to wake you. Take some of this medicine per the instructions on the bottle. It should ease your symptoms and help you sleep. I hope it’ll make you feel better.
Call me if you need anything.
Get well soon,
Kouyou Ozaki
He reads over the carefully written script a couple of times until his brain finally comprehends its contents. He moves to set the note down again then picks up the bottle to go over the recommended dosage. He takes his time, making sure he’s reading it correctly.
Soon enough he figures it out and pours out the correct dose. He lifts the tiny cup provided to his face, noticing the sharp scent of the artificial grape. It tastes almost as bad as it smells as he tips the cup back. Quickly, he sets the cup down and goes for the water. Almost wishing for something stronger to knock the disgusting grape taste out of his mouth.
Once he gets rid of the majority of the awful flavor, he sets the water back down on the table. Chuuya hopes that the medicine will kick in soon, his body feels over-exerted just from taking it.
His body feels heavy as if the gravity that usually bends to his will is taking its revenge. Maybe a short nap would do him well, he thinks. His eyes flicker and soon enough, he blinks from consciousness.
***
“Oh, there you are, Chibi.”
Chuuya’s whole body practically freezes, despite his current fever, at the sound of that voice.
“I’ve been looking for my dog all day and, lo and behold, he’s sleeping in.” The voice continues, like nails on a chalkboard. “What a lazy puppy.”
Chuuya’s eyes slowly open and he sees the last person he ever wanted to see. “Shut the fuck up, Dazai!” It takes almost all his energy to yell, but for this unpleasant encounter, it’s well worth it. “Leave! I don’t need your disgusting mackerel germs making me even sicker!”
Dazai merely smirks as he enters the room, likely without a care of the comment. Chuuya watches as the lanky boy, dressed in a fancy suit with bandages wrapped over his arms, neck, and over his right eye, comes to sit at the edge of the bed.
“Oh, come on, that fever of yours is making you spout nonsense. What dog wouldn’t be wagging its tail to see its owner?” Dazai asks, obnoxiously.
“I am not your dog!” Chuuya protests. “That stupid bet expired years ago!”
“Expired?” Dazai challenges. “I’m pretty sure the terms were you becoming my dog and doing all I ask for life, Chibi. And last I checked, neither of us is dead yet. As sad as it is to say. My various suicide attempts have yielded me nothing, and that fever of yours hasn’t stopped your yapping either.”
Chuuya huffs in response. Dazai is such an asshole. Always had been and always will be. In all the years they had known each other, Dazai hadn’t changed at all. Still that same prick he met when they were both fifteen.
As he is about to say something to retaliate against the mackerel, he ends up in a coughing fit. If the coughing and hacking weren't already embarrassing, Dazai just stares at him. It wasn’t in a normal polite and patient way, but in the same exact way Dazai has always stared at Chuuya: he wears no expression at all.
For whatever reason, that emotionless expression felt soothing to Chuuya. He would even describe the sight as comforting and almost nostalgic. He can’t quite remember when, but at some point, that familiar gaze faded from ordinary life.
The moment passes as he slowly catches his breath.
“You really are sick, Chibi,” Dazai says, already back to his usual cocky self. “Should I take you to the vet?”
Chuuya gives his ‘friend’ an annoyed look. “Why the hell are you even here, Dazai? I already feel awful, I don’t need you around to make me feel worse.”
“Oh, I just–” Dazai’s voice wavers before finding his cockiness again. “Is it so odd to check up on one’s dog?”
“Stop calling me that!” Chuuya groans. “The joke is getting old!”
Dazai shifts awkwardly from where he’s seated. Chuuya can just barely see him smiling as he turns his head away. It’s almost sweet when he acts like that, Chuuya notes internally.
Suddenly, as if he’s embarrassed, Dazai quietly says, “Would it be better to admit that I was worried about you then?”
Chuuya’s heart almost stops functioning. This is Dazai at his most genuine, it’s a rare, but endearing sight. Vulnerability and Dazai Osamu are words that don’t typically find themselves in the other’s company.
“I don’t like it when Chibi is in pain.” The admission escapes Dazai before Chuuya can even react to the last.
Dazai hums as he looks out toward something that Chuuya can’t see, a thoughtful expression on his face.
“It makes me realize there is something in this horrible, god-forsaken world that I would be sad about if I ever lost.”
A hitched breath —Chuuya will blame it on his illness— makes its way out of his lips. He’s never seen Dazai so freely talk about sensitive stuff like this, at least that he can think of. Dazai is always so tight-lipped about the thoughts in his head. Never wanting to let anybody in, sometimes even Chuuya, despite everything they’ve been through together. It took a long time for him to break down the walls Dazai had built.
Though, through all these years, Chuuya would say that Dazai is the only one who knows him better than he knows himself. Able to see through every facade of his, looking into his own soul. While Chuuya feels like he’s only guessing when it comes to Dazai.
Knowing a person but never truly knowing them, is the worst pain imaginable. Perhaps worse than Corruption itself.
“Chuuya,” Dazai says as he faces the redhead once more, but his brown eyes don’t quite meet Chuuya’s blue ones.
Chuuya waits for Dazai to speak again. He wouldn't want to ruin whatever strange but thoughtful moment that has been created. These moments in time are few and far between and he wants to live in them for as long as he possibly can. Who knows when he’ll hear Dazai’s voice again.
Dazai takes a shaky breath, Chuuya can’t help but notice, before speaking up again. “I struggle with being human. Emotions trouble me the most.” Dazai’s words come out stilted and awkward.
A sympathetic smile creeps onto Chuuya’s face. “I know.” He says. “Me too.”
Dazai and his struggles with humanity aren’t exactly the same, but there’s a comfort to be found in knowing that someone else, aside from himself, can understand. The two may snip at each other or throw out insults and nicknames, but on the inside, at least Chuuya is thankful that fate did bring them together.
Dazai nods slowly but doesn’t offer more than that. Chuuya doesn’t need him to anyways, they’ve always understood what the other was saying. That’s how it has always been between the two of them.
“Hey, Dazai?” Chuuya prompts.
Dazai hums in response as he cocks his head to the side, looking like a lost puppy.
“I know we say shitty things to each other all the time but,” Chuuya pauses, trying to find the words he wants to say. He’s not even quite sure what is compelling him to say them, but he knows that speaks to its importance. The things we’re driven by some cosmic force to say, are by far the most important to give voice to. “But I like this side of you. It’s…” There’s only really one word to describe it though he knows that Dazai won’t like this particular adjective.
“…Human.”
There’s not really any other way to describe it. As much as Dazai believes he is ‘No Longer Human’, he can be so vulnerable and honest. He’s so very human when he lets himself be. Chuuya knows that Dazai wouldn’t just let anyone see him like this. This most precious and beautiful sight is one he knows that only certain special people will ever see. Chuuya counts himself lucky to see it.
Dazai goes quiet in response. It takes him almost a full minute to say, “What..?” A look of disbelief on his face. Chuuya smiles, thinking that it’s probably hard to accept that someone sees you so differently than you see yourself.
The same force that compelled him to speak earlier —or maybe the delirium of the medicine he took— urges Chuuya to continue. “Don’t believe me all you want, but it’s true.”
Still, Dazai doesn’t offer up a response, but Chuuya thinks he sees a small smile on his face.
The two sit in a content quiet until Dazai finds his words.
“You’re human too, you know.”
It’s barely a whisper, but Chuuya hears it just fine. He doesn’t know if he can bring himself to believe it, no matter how much of a hypocrite that makes him. He finds his mouth twitching into a smile all the same.
It’s an odd thing between them, but Chuuya knows they need to be reminded of their humanity now and again. Anyone could inform the other of their humanity, but Dazai and Chuuya could never truly believe it. The two needed to validate each other's humanity and they were the only ones who ever could.
Chuuya lets himself fully smile as Dazai cautiously meets his gaze.
Brown stares into blue. There are more words they’d love to say to each other but they never do. Call it some pact or unspoken agreement, but that’s just how their relationship worked.
Most times, Chuuya would just leave the conversation where it was, happy to just let the rest go unspoken, but today felt different. Maybe it was because he felt so sick and tired, a reminder that one day his body would eventually give up this fight. It could be sickness, a stray bullet, or maybe Corruption finally catching up to him. He’d have to say goodbye to this cut-short life at some point or another.
So, Chuuya was done living with words unspoken and so many regrets.
“Dazai, I—“
The words get caught in his throat as another coughing fit overtakes him. Dammit , he thinks to himself. This stupid sickness is to blame for ruining this moment. Is the medicine he took even doing anything?
Dazai looks at him concerned. “I think you should get some rest, Chibi.” There’s a tone to his voice that signals the end of the conversation, much to Chuuya’s continued regret.
“Wait—“ Chuuya says, desperately as all of his symptoms seem to appear at once. “Just give me—” His body seems to go through multiple temperature changes as it feels like he’s hacking up a lung. “Just a second,” He croaks out.
“Chuuya,” Dazai says, sounding concerned. “You can tell me later, okay? It’s not as if we're never going to see each other again.”
Chuuya watches Dazai stand back up as his coughing fit subsides. For whatever reason, he couldn’t bring himself to believe what his partner had said. “But what if something happens?” He asks as he feels his head start to pound. This fever was taking a toll on him. Why was he so sure that something, whatever it was, would happen? Where did this jarring feeling even come from?
Dazai puts a small smile on his face as if this whole thing is amusing to him. “I think you need some rest, Chibi. Your yapping is becoming more incomprehensible than usual.” He giggles a bit, before smiling fondly again. “You’ll feel better after some sleep, okay?”
Chuuya’s eyes water suddenly and he doesn’t know why. He feels his throat tighten up and his already clogged sinuses start to feel so much worse. Sweat beads on his brow but he feels so cold. He tries to get his emotions and body under control but that soon becomes an insurmountable task.
“Chibi,” Dazai says. His voice isn’t quite pitying, but holds so much concern and care for his partner.
The ‘Chibi’ in question lets out a stuttering breath. Breathing already is somewhat of a challenge with his illness. Having to rely on his mouth alone to take in oxygen, then combining that with emotions going off on their own makes everything feel so much worse. Chuuya doesn’t usually say what he’s thinking, but why is all this happening now when he finally wants to?
Eventually, Chuuya sputters out the words “Don’t leave.” and “Stay here, please.” He doesn’t care how desperate those words sound right now. He just wants Dazai close to him.
Dazai sighs but does as he’s told. He sits back on the bed, closer to Chuuya this time. “Okay, okay. I’m right here. I won’t go anywhere.”
Chuuya, still sobbing, leans towards Dazai and pulls him close. Dazai doesn’t seem to mind, only offering a whiny, “Eww, slug germs! You better not get me sick!” in protest.
The two stay like that for some time. At one point, Dazai even draws comforting circles onto Chuuya’s back to get him to calm down. Chuuya would never say it, but he secretly appreciates it.
He wasn’t even sure when it happened, but Chuuya eventually found himself comfortable and relaxed enough in Dazai’s arms to fall fast asleep.
***
Somebody was humming. It was a nice, but quiet melody. A soothing presence, as blue eyes blinked back into consciousness.
Chuuya’s body still aches from his sickness but he felt significantly better waking up this time. He ponders the source of the humming. Dazai must have waited for me to wake up, he thinks to himself.
“Dazai?” He croaks out. Now his throat is the newest victim of this sickness. “You still here?”
The humming comes to an abrupt end with a confused-sounding note. “Chuuya?” The person, who definitely does not sound like Dazai, asks. This voice is more motherly.
Chuuya rolls to his side and sees Kouyou sitting in a chair, reading a book. She looks so concerned and almost bewildered.
“Oh hey, Kouyou,” Chuuya greets the woman. “Sorry, thought you were someone else…” He mumbles. He tries not to sound so disappointed that she isn’t that someone else; how well that comes across is debatable.
“It’s quite alright, but,” Her voice almost quivers.
Usually, he would wait until she finished her thought, but Chuuya had to interrupt her. He felt that he needed to know. “Sorry Kouyou, but where did Dazai go? He said that he’d stay with me…did Mori give him a mission or something?”
Kouyou takes a rattling breath in. Almost like she couldn’t parse what Chuuya had said to her. Very odd. Couldn’t she just tell him what happened? He just wants to know where his friend went.
“Chuuya,” Kouyou, who never usually sounds this shocked, mutters out. “What…what are you talking about?”
Though he may be sick, Chuuya was sure his question came across clearly. But, for clarification’s sake, he says, “Dazai was here a bit ago, did he tell you he was going anywhere?”
The woman shuts her book, setting it gently on her lap. “That’s impossible, my dear.”
Now it was Chuuya’s turn to be lost. What does she mean by ‘impossible’? He may have a fever, but he’s not losing his vision. Dazai was here. He was . Why wouldn’t he be here?
“Impossible?” Chuuya finally questions. He feels more awake now so hopefully, his words will come out more clearly. “What are you talking about, Kouyou? He was just here being as annoying as always.”
Kouyou now looks at him with a sympathetic smile on her face. “I think your fever has been playing tricks on you, Chuuya.”
He can only look at the woman who has mentored him for years, with utter disbelief. As Chuuya is about to protest saying he knows what he saw and he isn’t delusional, Kouyou speaks up again.
“Dazai has been missing for the past two years.”
A cold chill makes its way down Chuuya’s spine. He has never felt more sober in his entire life than he does at this moment.
Kouyou is right. That mackerel bastard has been missing for the past two years. The Port Mafia has declared him dead. Chuuya knows that perhaps better than anyone in the entire mafia. But he also can’t deny what he saw. Dazai was here, with all of his annoying personality and stupid nicknames. Did he come here for the sole reason to annoy Chuuya then just disappear again? Chuuya couldn’t say he’d be surprised if Dazai did something like that. That has to be what happened, and yet…
And yet, as Kouyou said, it would be impossible.
Someone would have caught him or seen him around. And as Chuuya thinks back, the Dazai he supposedly saw looked the exact same as he did when he was 18, like it hadn’t even been a day since he left. That’s why it just felt like a normal day with him.
So then, it was all just a dream? Some cruel joke his mind decided to pull on him? A theater perfectly envisioning a potential day from two years ago?
He doesn’t find this farce funny at all.
“Chuuya? Are you ok?” Kouyou asks him, after letting him process what she had said before. Her voice is nothing but gentle. “I’m sorry he isn’t here, this must be stressful—” but Chuuya has already cut her off.
“It’s fine, Kouyou,” He says harshly. It’s not really directed at her, but more at himself. “I’m glad that piece of shit wasn’t actually here. I would have beat him senseless.” A rage he hasn’t felt in two years bubbles up to the surface. A stinging pain in his eyes comes to accompany that rage.
Kouyou puts on another sympathetic face. “Chuuya,” She whispers, it must kill her to see him this pitiful.
He must look absolutely pathetic. Not only is this fever kicking him, but all his stupid emotions towards Dazai he hasn’t felt in years also come to finish the job. Regrets for what he wished he said, a never-ending rage at Dazai for leaving without a word, a fear that he will never see the mackerel bastard again, but most of all the pain of a heart that has been broken one too many times.
Had Chuuya really wanted to see Dazai that much? So much that the deepest darkest part of himself created such a life-like phantom in his mind’s eye? If that’s true, he must accept this reality where he misses Dazai.
He doesn’t want to think about it, ever. It hurts him too much to accept it. Dazai could be dead for all he knew, he had always talked about a “perfect” suicide. Perhaps that’s where he was, a world beyond what Chuuya knew. However, there was a small part of himself that wished for Dazai’s happiness and health. That he found something or someone besides Chuuya that convinced him life was still worth a try.
“Did you hear me, Chuuya?”
A voice interrupts his thoughts.
“Sorry,” Chuuya shakes his head, trying to rid it of such traitorous ramblings. “I didn’t hear you.”
“That’s fine,” Kouyou answers. “I just asked if you would like some soup. Might help you feel better.”
“Oh,” Chuuya says. “Yeah, I’d like some.”
Kouyou nods as she gets up and exits the room leaving Chuuya by himself again.
He watches the door and it pains him knowing that the only one he would ever like to see come through it, would probably never enter again.
Fate was cruel and always would be.
Chuuya could only wish that somewhere out there was a reality where he and Dazai could be happy. If only the stars could hear him now. Not that it would make much of a difference, they never heard him in the first place.