Work Text:
“I swear… he just keeps running off!”
Atsushi chuckles and pats Kunikida’s shoulder. “I’ll go look for him, Kunikida-san.”
Slipping his hands inside his pockets, Atsushi takes in the warm and comforting hues of the sun beginning to set. The yellow-orange slowly brews into a more pinkish and purplish color—into something darker.
All these shops, stores, buildings, people, the road, and the distant sight of the sea enveloping Yokohama in a warm embrace bring a ghost of a smile to Atsushi’s face. It reminds him of the first time he meets his junior when the latter tries to commit suicide. They walked past these places and sightings, in the same scenery and time of the day, in the same city.
Now, walking back to where everything started, a fluff of brown locks by the riverbank flies in the air at the sudden whisper of the breeze. The riverbank where he keeps trying to drown himself—where Atsushi always stops him just in the nick of time.
Dazai walks closer to the side until his shoes go wet, then his black slacks, but before the water reach his knees, white tiger paws grab either side of his shoulders and pull him back.
“Atsushi-kun…” he mumbles, cocking his head upwards to meet Atsushi’s eyes and confirm.
“-san.” Atsushi smiles, sitting down. “I’m older than you.”
Dazai pouts, limping his body so he falls, sitting between Atsushi’s legs. He emits a playful look and slowly says, “At-su-shi-kun.”
Atsushi rolls his eyes, his hands now back to normal, he ruffles Dazai’s hair.
“Whatever. Now get off me, and let’s go back.”
“Don’t wanna.”
“Dazai-”
Dazai leans more on Atsushi’s chest, closing his eyes, displaying a smile that softens his features. The longer Atsushi stares silently beneath him—at Dazai—the more it strikes him how sad his smile is. How such an unexplainable sense of sorrow and guilt he may be under.
Unconsciously, Atsushi moves some of Dazai’s bangs with one hand, making Dazai’s smile widen.
“Do you know what you’re doing,” he said with a little smile. “Atsushi-kun?”
“Do you know what you’re doing, Dazai?” Atsushi continues to stare, emphasizing his words.
Dazai opens his eyes, staring right back at Atsushi, his fingers tangling together by his stomach, fidgeting at the way his heart flutters at Atsushi’s stare. Something about it makes him feel conscious, exposed. Like he will be found out if he lets Atsushi look longer. Like Atsushi will see everything he is hiding from the world the longer they stare—everything he is hiding from his senior.
He attempts a smile before closing his eyes again and sliding a hand on the grass, “Of course I do.”
Atsushi doesn’t answer, but Dazai’s hand finds his on the grass, one finger bumping against another. His pinky subtly traps Atsushi’s thumb, caressing its sides softly against the gentle breeze and dancing grass.
When Atsushi’s hand pulls away, something about Dazai’s expression tightens, but then Atsushi presses his hand on top of Dazai’s until their fingers messily tangle between each other.
A smile forces its way onto Dazai’s face, which makes Atsushi smile back, but the same obscure melancholy behind Dazai’s expression refuses to let Atsushi see through his invisible walls.
“Dazai.” Atsushi lowers his head until his chin bumps Dazai’s head. “Are you tired?”
“Of you?”
Atsushi doesn’t answer.
Dazai chuckles and whispers, “No, never.” His eyes open, but is looking at the sky. “Of the world? Maybe.”
He sits up straight, entwined hands on the grass, not letting go.
Dazai’s hold on Atsushi tightens, his face serious, “Of the truth? Probably.”
“Truth?”
He shakes his head and tilts his head up, meeting Atsushi’s face centimeters away from his, their eyes lock.
In silence, Atsushi’s free hand cups one of Dazai’s cheeks, his head lowering even more. His thumb bumps Dazai’s lips, eyes asking for permission, confirming something. When Dazai closes his eyes and doesn’t move, Atsushi takes it as a confirmation.
A confirmation for all the truths in Dazai’s head to remain in his head, for everything he’s hiding from Atsushi to remain hidden for his own sake, for the real Dazai to remain hidden away, and for Atsushi to brush his lips against Dazai’s.
Something warm emerges from Dazai’s chest—his heart. The light touch of Atsushi’s lips on his, so gentle and sincere and true, truer than almost any truths Dazai is hiding. Or at least he wishes. If only this reality is true—if only this is all real and true.
Dazai stretches his head forward, kissing back briefly before Atsushi pulls away as a stray tear falls, and they both open their eyes.
“Atsushi-kun.” Dazai’s free hand attempts to wipe Atsushi’s tears. He continues to say in a low voice, “Atsushi-kun.”
“...I don’t get it,” Atsushi whispers, forcing a light chuckle. “It’s been so long, and you still refuse to refer to me in any other way. It’s not very respectful to your elders, you know.”
“I’m sorry,” Dazai whispers with a serious look, but within his deadpan lies the persistent flow of sadness. “But don’t worry.”
Dazai pulls Atsushi’s head close and kisses his forehead, then his closed eyelids.
“We will be fine. Everything will be fine. Believe, Atsushi-kun.” He forces a pained smile. “Believe in yourself. I believe in you. We’ll get through this.”
Atsushi shakes his head. “I don’t understand what you’re saying.”
“You will. Soon.”
“Dazai?” Atsushi’s eyes open wide as Dazai seems to fade away. His voice trembles and new tears threaten to dive down, “Where are you going?”
With no answer from him, Atsushi yells, “What’s going on? Dazai!”
“We need to wake up.”
“Huh?”
“We won’t be seeing each other in a while.”
“What? Why?”
With yet another silent response, Atsushi breathes in and out.
“Then, when will I see you again?”
Dazai smiles, a smile Atsushi feels as though he’s seen hundreds of times before, echoing something he doesn’t quite understand. Something he doesn’t want to believe.
“Dazai!”
“Don’t worry. No matter how long it takes.” Dazai squeezes Atsushi’s hand. “We’ll see each other again.”
“Dazai…san?”
Dazai grins, reaching his eyes. His voice sounds happy and relieved.
“That’s right, Atsushi-kun. No matter how good reality seems to be, don’t forget the truth.”
Don’t forget where you are right now.
“Don’t forget, Atsushi-kun.”