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The world seemed like nothing more than a series of blurred shapes of colours now.
The detective slumped back against the wall, far too tired to support himself. There was nothing but pain. And perhaps a lingering regret too.
“Is it over?” Was the first thought that came to his mind.
“Am I really dying?”
He felt it true, what else could this feeling be?
His own blood poured through his fingers, he felt the warm wetness trickle down the side of his face.
“If this really is the end of my ideals, of me, then…”
A new thought cut across him in realisation.
“...”
“Why do I feel relief?”
He felt a familiar sensation sting his eyes- tears.
Why was he crying now? Why couldn’t he feel anything else?
The cold concrete beneath his feet didn’t mean anything to him anymore.
This ringing sound in his ears dulled down to nothing more than background noise.
“Kunikida-kun!” A voice cut through the veil of swirling fog in his mind.
Clear, sharp, familiar. One he knew all too well.
He weakly looked up to see a hazy figure of brown and white sprinting towards him.
Thin strips of linen bandages trailed behind him.
And the glimmering opal pendant took up the centre of his vision, a brilliant blue.
“Dazai…?” He called out, voice quiet from exhaustion.
There was no point in questioning or confirming anything. He already knew.
He felt a strong pair of hands grab his shoulders.
“Hang in there Kunikida-kun!” Dazai’s voice seemed frantic, panicked.
Tears were streaming down his face.
“Yosano-sensei will be here soon and-”
“Dazai.”
Kunikida cut him off before he could say anything else.
He was just…tired. What was this? Did he ever deserve to be a part of the Armed Detective Agency? How…stupid. How selfish.
His partner’s eyes only widened, but he didn’t interrupt him.
What would a dying man even have to say? He was done here, it was clear.
“Don’t cry for me.”
“Okay?”
A look of confusion came to his dark eyes at these words.
Don’t cry? What did he even mean? How was he even supposed to stop crying?
His damn partner was dying right in front of his eyes!
“I just…I want to feel selfish.” Kunikida went on. Dazai didn’t stop him, he didn’t have the heart to. What else was he to do? He kneeled down, looking his partner in the eye.
Golden met dark brown.
He felt his partner’s own blood stain his hands, but that didn’t matter right now.
“This endless chase of an ideal world that doesn’t exist has really worn me down.”
“So being free from that burden…is a relief, you know?”
His ideals, his principals, his whole life that he spent working towards his one goal.
Over and over again.
The green notebook slipped from his hand.
The calligraphy on the cover was stained with blood. His own blood.
Crimson. Bamboo.
He envisioned his blood like the ink.
“Ha…how awful of me.”
It was shame. It was so incredibly selfish of him to feel this way.
Relief? What a terrible person he was. What a terrible guilt that tore at his mind.
He’d rather be cut open a thousand times.
The detective felt a knot form in his stomach as he listened. His partner really felt this way? All this time? Kunikida was the most righteous, most headstrong and stubborn person he’d ever known. He was idealistic, foolishly so, yes. But he was also the one who was a backbone and the future of the Agency.
What should he have done? He stayed by the detective’s side, still kneeling, still holding on.
Was it comfort? Was it pain?
Did he just feel more conflicted?
“So please…don’t waste your tears on a selfish man like me.”
Dazai stayed with him until the end in bitter silence.