Chapter Text
Now Playing: Do I Wanna Know? (Arctic Monkeys)
Theres this tune that reminded Dazai of Chuuya somehow and he plays it on repeat. Did the tunes remind him of Chuuya's color in his cheeks from his drunkness? Did it give Dazai the same sensation as Chuuya did when they were partners? Or was it simply a reminder of Chuuya?
He couldn't tell. All he could do was connect it to a memory:
In a dingy bar, bathed in the dim glow of neon lights, Dazai and Chuuya sit across from each other, drowning their sorrows in whiskey and regret. The air is thick with tension, a palpable energy that crackles between them like static electricity.
"idk if u feel the same as i do but we could be together if u wanted to," Dazai suggested, lightheartedly but with heavy meaning.
Chuuya scoffed. "Ew." as raised his head from his drunken state to stare at Dazai with distain. "Like hell we would," he retorted.
Chuuya didn't notice it, but their distance was terribly close. The closest they have ever been. The contrast between hate and love mixed in the air. All Dazai could comprehend was that Chuuya is 3 inches away from his face. He could just kiss right then and there.
A short useless memory that gives Dazai a sense of sweet coziness and butterflies flutter in his stomach. It was one of his favorite moments to remember as he layed there, closing his eyes.
'Ever thought of calling when youve had a few, sips of wine. Cuz I always do,' Dazai sighed, in a calculated long stance, he stood up to walk the night.
The dim glow of the city's streetlights cast long shadows on the empty streets, an eerie silence wrapping around everything. A pair of eyes, sharp and calculating, traced the path of a lone figure in the distance. Chuuya's fiery hair stood out like a beacon in the darkness, his stride confident and purposeful. There was something intoxicating about the way he moved, a dangerous grace that demanded attention.
The tension between them had always been palpable, a constant push and pull that neither could escape. Memories of battles fought side by side, of arguments that felt like dances, of moments stolen in the quiet of the night. All of it played out in the mind's eye. Every encounter left an indelible mark, a craving that gnawed at the edges of sanity.
A cigarette was lit, the ember glowing softly as the smoke curled into the night air. Watching Chuuya, there was an undeniable pull, a question that lingered with every heartbeat. Did Chuuya feel it too? The sleepless nights spent pondering the 'what ifs,' the restless desire that refused to be ignored. Each time they clashed, it was as if the universe was pushing them together, only to tear them apart again.
The sight of Chuuya up close was even more arresting. The way his eyes flashed with defiance, the way his lips curled into that familiar smirk—it was maddening. Every word exchanged was a game, a dance of veiled intentions and unspoken desires.
"Chuuya," the name slipped out, almost involuntarily, a quiet acknowledgment of the storm raging inside. Chuuya turned, his gaze piercing through the darkness, locking onto the one who had uttered his name. There was a challenge in those eyes, a question that mirrored the one that had been tormenting the thoughts for so long.
"Why are you here?" Chuuya's voice was a blend of irritation and curiosity, a dangerous mix that sent a shiver down the spine. There was a pause, the air thick with tension, before the response came, measured and calm.
"Couldn't stay away," the words were simple, but they carried a weight that was impossible to ignore. Chuuya's eyes narrowed, suspicion and something else flickering in their depths.
"Always playing games, aren't you?" Chuuya's tone was accusatory, but there was no hint of softness underneath. It was a solid wall, impenetrable and cold.
The distance between them closed, the space charged with electricity. Reaching out, a hand brushed against Chuuya's cheek, the contact sending a jolt through one of them. Chuuya pulled away, a frown darkening his features.
"Don't," Chuuya's voice was firm, his eyes hardening. The small gesture felt like a slap, a reminder of the distance that would always remain between them.
"Do I wanna know if you feel the same?" The thought lingered, unspoken but clear in the air between them. Chuuya's expression was unreadable, his eyes giving nothing away.
"I—" Chuuya's voice was devoid of hesitation. "Dazai, stop. Whatever you think this is, it isn't." The words were like a dagger, sharp and precise, cutting through any illusions that had been harbored. "You should really move on."
"Can't"
"The fuck? Why not?"
"Maybe I'm too busy being yours to fall for somebody knew."
The silence that followed was deafening, each second stretching into eternity. Finally, with a swift rejection through his facial features, Chuuya turned away, his back a stark reminder of the barrier that would never be crossed.
Understanding his circumstances, Dazai stood and watched, left standing alone in the quiet of the night, with the city as the only witness of a heart that ached in a way that defied reason and logic.
The question that had haunted so many nights found its answer, and it was a painful one.
In the end, the feelings that he believed flowed both ways existed only in one heart. And in that moment, with the cold wind biting through the air, a realization settled in. Some desires were destined to remain unfulfilled, and some connections, no matter how deep, were never meant to be.
Nevertheless, that night were mainly made for saying things you can't say tommorrow.
But still,,
"I'm crawling back to you," Dazai whispered ever so slightly, watching the silhouette disappear. "I need a drink..." And so Dazai headed to a near by bar.