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Chuuya had never believed the whole soulmate theory. He’d always thought that whole deal with finding your true soulmate was people talking shit and forcing their way of life on others. Some wild idiocy the entire world had come up with to substitute a desperate need in everyone’s life for some stability.
To Chuuya it had been nothing but nonsense, ruining his life and making him miserable with every single choice he made.
The thought of knowing his supposed soulmate was out there connected to him through some stupid red string on his finger had been strange to him ever since the topic was first presented to him. Chuuya had been sure that it had been something his parents had made up. After all, there was no proof of those strings existing. Only the soulmates themselves were able to see them.
How convenient.
A rest string connecting a soul split into two bodies must have been something society came up with to fight the constantly growing divorce rate. Chuuya was sure of it. Maybe some hallucinogens were involved in it as well to ensure that people were talking about the strings, insisting on their existence. After all, a ploy like this needed proper witnesses who were dumb enough to fall for the government’s tricks.
Nothing Chuuya would ever end up seeing would manage to get him to believe in that stuff.
The strings, supposedly invisible, even to the soulmates until ‘You lock eyes with your soulmate for the first time and you feel that spark of belonging’ as his father used to tell him. Which in turn only meant that if you didn’t feel the spark, you could end up being friends with your soulmate and never know just because the spark wasn’t there for you.
Of course, Rimbaux always reminded Chuuya how he’d know once he met his soulmate. He’d know how good it felt to look at his person and know it to be the person he wanted to spend his entire life with.
The main reason, Chuuya didn’t believe in this stupid fairy tale, in that… unprovable lie everybody kept telling him, was that if he had a true soulmate, he only had one shot at the perfect life. If he ended up being in a relationship he’d know whether or not they’d turn out to be his soulmate and therefore if they were the person he was destined to be with.
So what if he never met his soulmate? What if out of those billions of people walking the earth every waking day, his soulmate turned out to come from a different country, growing up in a different culture? What if he never actually ended up getting the opportunity to meet them?
This whole thing had never made sense to him, after all, so many people never ended up meeting their soulmate and died a lonely death because of it.
Just because of some stupid, elaborate lie.
A romanticized outlook he never ended up sharing for this exact reason.
Already in primary school, where anything regarding love and relationships was so far in the future, nothing anyone should think about, it was a topic. Girls were still icky and boys were annoying and yet, everyone kept talking about finding their soulmate to end up like their parents.
How it was their goal in life.
Chuuya was an exception to the rule, annoyed by the premise and even more annoyed about it being mentioned to him. He didn’t want to meet his soulmate and wasn’t even interested in sticking to one person either!
Seeing his parents moving to Japan with him and being all alone, only having one another, it was a terrible sight. He liked all his friends and he wanted to keep them!
The thought of only getting to spend his time with one person was dumb.
“I don’t wanna have a soulmate.” Once again in a bad mood, because the girls had kept teasing him about it, Chuuya kicked the ball far away, hitting the trashcan right beside the little bench out in the park they’d visited on their day out.
Dazai simply snorted at him. “You’re just scared no one will ever like you! You’re always grumpy and mean.”
“Shut up…” Chuuya huffed and puffed as he crossed his arms in front of his chest and then promptly turned away from Dazai so that he didn’t have to look at the meanie’s face. “You’re shellous!”
“Hey Chuuya!” Unfortunately turning away didn’t end up meaning Dazai would stop speaking to him. “Let’s play soulmates! As a test! If you win the test then you are allowed to have me as your soulmate!”
Chuuya turned back to face Dazai again and rolled his eyes. His tongue got stuck out next just before he opened his mouth to speak once more. “I’ll never play soulmates! Not with you! You’re mean and anoy… an- annoyan- anno-” Stuck on the word, he could feel his face get red with embarrassment and shame, so he resorted to the good old “Shut up!”
Not letting Dazai say much else about it, he quickly ran over to the bench and trash can, where he had kicked the ball against and picked it up. As he walked towards the rest of the group, standing by the girls to tell them that they would never be better at ball than him, Chuuya threw one more look at Dazai.
He could see that Dazai had followed behind him, now sitting on the bench staring at his hands and messing with the bandages on his fingers, playing with it.
“Pf.” Chuuya huffed. “Annoying.”
A sentiment that stuck with him throughout his entire life. Every decision he made seemed to result in the same outcome, no matter how many times life gave him a chance to turn everything around, he kept on running through the wall head first.
No matter how different the choices were, the outcome remained similar.
Similar and mostly devastating.
In the beginning of secondary school, a whole info day was held about soulmates, how important it was to find them and how very necessary they had become in terms of status. Having and finding your soulmate meant that you were immediately joining a higher class, getting a better life.
The teacher explained to them how one soul was split into two bodies and only if they were to find one another, they’d be able to witness true happiness.
This was the first time he heard about testing things out and what it meant to do that. As not everyone found his other half at first sight, it was a normal process to test out and try to fall in love with people to see if they were compatible.
To see if that stupid string appeared.
After all, if you were to fall in love and the string did not appear, you’d know that the relationship would be doomed to fail.
Something Chuuya unfortunately had to learn the hard way.
Finding out that day that people were staying with their non-soulmate for prolonged periods, as they were still happy, he made a pact with himself. Chuuya would never end a relationship just because there was no string and he’d search for like-minded people.
He wasn’t a slave to fate and wasn't going to fall for this stupid behavior everybody else was showing.
After all, Chuuya was different and he intended it to remain that way.
At that time no one else seemed to think the same way and it took him far into secondary school to find someone like-minded.
He was fifteen then, young and so very naive. Falling in love with a young exchange student from Russia who seemed to campaign against the whole soulmate thing openly.
Fyodor truly was everything he could have ever asked for when it came to a boyfriend. Not only was he intelligent and good-looking, but he also knew just how to woo Chuuya. Fedya wanted Chuuya the same way Chuuya wanted him, which meant they started to spend all of their time together. They hung around town, went out on dates and… Chuuya fell in love.
It was so easy too; falling for him.
Fyodor was so easily trusted, so warm and comfortable and taking Chuuya with all his little quirks and flaws.
It was so easy to trust him that even though he’d been this young, Chuuya quickly agreed to take their relationship to the next level, sharing his first sexual experience with the other. It was breathtaking and something he chose, without fate or destiny having a say in it.
His parents were alright with him ‘messing around’ like that, alright with him gaining some experience in the dating world, although he’d never actually told them how he’d lost his virginity to Fyodor. Definitely not a topic he ever wanted to talk to his parents about.
Not if he could avoid it at least.
In the end… only one person seemed to hate everything about Chuuya’s first relationship. One person seemingly was against his happiness and the joy he felt whenever he was around Fyodor.
Dazai had hated the Russian ever since he’d set foot into their school and somehow just wouldn’t let it go no matter how often Chuuya yelled at him for it.
Until Chuuya took matters into his own hands.
“You really can’t just be happy for me, can you?! Why do you need to make this so fucking difficult, asshole?!” Chuuya exclaimed, throwing his jacket onto the little park bench next to them. The trash can next to it still carried their empty fast food wrappers from the week before when they’d met up to talk.
It was their designated meeting place, the spot they always seemed to come back to, especially when it was time to get serious about things.
“I want to be happy for you Chuuya. I want it so badly, you have no idea.” Daai was laughing and threw his hands up in the air before they landed on his brown hair, ruffling up the strands until it looked even messier than before. His hair had gotten so long… Just like Chuuya’s, with the difference that Chuuya kept his front short and Dazai barely let his eyes show.
“Well, what’s keeping you from it then?! This is getting beyond frustrating. I can’t bring Fedya with me when I want to hang out with you and the others because you won’t stop fucking with him by dropping stupid comments.” It was the cry for help, the need for something to change that made Chuuya’s voice waver as he spoke.
Dazai was his friend. Although they mostly fought, Chuuya valued his opinion so much, that he would even classify him as his best friend.
Which made it so much more painful to watch him stand in the way of Chuuya’s happiness like this.
“Oh don’t get me started.” Once again, a laugh left Dazai’s lips. “First of all: He is just as bad when it comes to that and actually is the one who starts pissing me off first. You just can’t see it because you have those stupid rose-tinted glasses on. That way, everything that asshole does and says is nothing but pErFeCt in your eyes.” Dazai was getting worked up. A rare sight since he was a lot more collected usually.
And something that only made it worse for both of them.
“Oh shut up, Dazai. It’s not my fault no one fucking loves a suicidal jackass like you.”
Falling silent, Dazai stared at him through thick brown hair and Chuuya knew he’d gone too far. He could feel regret spread throughout his body but at the same time was much too proud to go back on his word. Especially because it was true. Dazai never once stopped making advances to people and telling them about double suicide and how amazing it would be since he knew he’d never be able to find true happiness in life.
Chuuya had never once stopped to ask why that was.
Only ever punched him and told him to shut up about it, since it certainly wasn’t true.
“You know.” Now Dazai was calm. A much more familiar terrain with Dazai’s lips curling into a smile. Never an expression Chuuya necessarily wanted to be at the receiving end of but at least it was better than being yelled at.
“You’re right. I hate him because you think he’s perfect and I hate him even more so because you actually love him. I am bitter and sad and so fucking jealous because I know you’ll never end up loving me the way I need you to.”
Chuuya stared at the other, having a hard time processing the words he ended up hearing. What… what did he mean by that? Was Dazai telling him that he loved him? That it was the reason for him being such an ass?
The silence spread until Dazai broke it with another small snort.
“Is that what you want to head Chibi? Is that it? Because it feels like you think it is, although the actual reason is that there simply is none. He just pisses me off and I want him to shut up. He’s a bad person and I hate that you think differently.”
For a moment, Chuuya had been thoroughly stunned, blue eyes widening at the other’s words. Felt like he’d been slapped twice, once with a love confession and once with the reality of Dazai being a prick who couldn’t see that Chuuya was desperate for a solution here. Desperate for something.
Instead, he just dropped some bullshit that made Chuuya believe that their friendship could be hurt irreparably. Once again, Dazai had managed to get Chuuya to a point where he could feel nothing but hatred and anger spreading in him.
This was it.
With his cheeks darkening from how red he was getting after the embarrassment of believing the other's lies and then being ridiculed for it, Chuuya truly couldn’t take it any longer and so he pulled the brake.
“That’s it.” His words were sharp, biting. “This is where it stops. Don’t bother calling me again. Don’t bother fucking texting me again. Don’t speak to me because I’m fucking sick of it. You want to show that you’re a heartless prick, then go do that in front of someone else because I am done with you, Osamu. Consider me removed from your life.”
Taking a step back, he considered his next action and then set a full stop underneath his words by making a fist and punching Dazai right in the face. “That’s for ever making me care for your worthless self.”
Turning around and walking away from Dazai had never felt as easy as at this moment. Chuuya was finally done with him.
Forever.
If he had known of the consequences of this decision, how the fates were twisting his destiny and ensuring he’d suffer for his choice, he would have walked a different path. Probably would have considered if Dazai flying so close to the sun was worth letting him burn.
Unfortunately, he hadn’t known and so blocking him on all of his social media came easy to him. Even going around and speaking to their friends about what happened and the decision he made was easier than he anticipated. Mainly because they agreed to his terms thinking he’d snap out of it as soon as the dust had settled.
After all, Chuuya couldn’t be serious about not inviting him over if Dazai was coming as well, right?
It was easy.
Even more so because Fedya was perfect in every way, giving him a shoulder to cry on whenever he needed and a body to snuggle up to. Losing his friends for a while meant he could spend more time with the Russian, which in turn meant he was slowly but surely becoming more and more dependent on him.
As summer drew closer, Fedya increased the praise and the compliments he gave Chuuya, making it unnecessary for anyone else to share his precious time with.
As long as he was with Fyodor, everything was alright and he was happy.
After all, his friends didn’t even care about him in the slightest. Neither of them had sent messages asking to hang out or even try to find out how he was doing. At school, they didn’t come over to talk to him, since they’d chosen Dazai’s side.
Which was fine.
Fyodor was there to be the only thing he needed in life, right?
What Chuuya didn’t know was that his precious boyfriend used the entire summer to get Chuuya to fully depend on him. Waking up without Fyodor was a pain, not seeing him too. Any minute he spent without the Russian, without hearing him say how pretty he was and how smart-
It felt like a waste. It hurt.
And right there, at the peak of his dependency on him, the time had come for Fyodor to go back home. Chuuya begged his parents to let him go with him. Begged them to give him the chance to experience another culture and learn a new language and all the positive things coming to him if he went.
But they stayed firm on their no, fearing for their son's independence and… having lost their love for the young Russian by then.
So Fyodor had no choice but to break up with him. Right at the airport in front of hundreds of other people, he unceremoniously told him that Chuuya was nothing but a boring little fling he had accepted while being gone.
The worst part about it was the fact that he kept laughing at his tears, laughing at the pain in Chuuya’s face after telling him that he had a soulmate back home.
He told him that Chuuya was a lost soul who probably didn’t even have a second half.
That he wouldn’t ever find happiness.
Being robbed of his only source of happiness was heartbreaking.
Not only had he lost his boyfriend and his relationship, but Chuuya also lost his only friend and the only thing he cared about in life.
Fyodor had long left when his parents came to collect him. The airport security had called them after Chuuya refused to move from the spot where he had collapsed. Still crying when Rimbaux pulled him into a hug, he screamed into his father's chest, the pain from the betrayal hurting more than anything before ever had.
Chuuya loved Fyodor and not only gave him everything but also gave up everything he ever had just so that in the end, he could be betrayed and ridiculed for ever trusting in the person he had come to love the most.
Once again life had pushed him into a situation he very much did not enjoy and most certainly wouldn’t ever regret. On the contrary, this one seemed to be a point in his life that shaped his foreseeable future.
Beforehand, Chuuya had been grumpy and maybe a little mean to others here and there, but underneath it all he’d been a happy, young man. Now, his experiences had turned him bitter and brutal.
Fyodor had played him like a fiddle, knowing exactly how to twist and turn his words to make Chuuya dance under his spell, a manipulation Chuuya never saw. He’d been blinded by the love he felt for him, the idolization of the slightly older student making it so much easier for Fyodor to step in and rip his heart out, crushing it in his hands.
After Fyodor, Chuuya had hit rock bottom for the first time in his life and although he knew, rationally, that life wasn’t supposed to be this hard and shitty, it still felt like it wasn’t even worth getting up in the morning.
What was the point if he had no interest in making new friends and the only person he wanted to see was far, far away, spending time with his soulmate?
Something he’d never end up being for anyone ever…
Since his parents thought he’d had a fallout with his friends and didn’t want him to go back to the school he connected so many bad memories with, they allowed him to change schools. A fresh start would surely help in one way or another.
At seventeen, after finishing school, Chuuya’s behavior had worsened quite a bit. Not only had he struggled through the last years of school although he was a smart kid, but he had also become a lot more violent, easily lashing out at anyone triggering the memories in him.
As a last hope, his parents had started sending him to anger management classes.
Of course, Chuuya hadn’t enjoyed them and thought them silly and unnecessary. Since he was totally fine and stuff.
But after a few months, he enjoyed the way he felt after the training, enjoyed the premise the classes were bringing and he turned to get more and more interested in the topic they were teaching.
Mixed martial arts wasn’t necessarily a new sport in Japan but it wasn’t as popular as others, meaning that it was the perfect sport for Chuuya to fall into. Training and moving wasn’t just slightly therapeutic in the way of getting his anger out into pads or people, it was also helping him keep his focus on something other than Fyodor.
A great place to let off steam whenever he needed to and, at some point, an even better one to make some money and get that praise that was otherwise hard to come by.
When his sensei told him he had done well and Chuuya’s opponent laid on the mat, unconscious, Chuuya felt some sort of happiness and joy rush through him.
This was something he could do, something he could potentially excel at if he did it right. And then one day, when he’d see Fyodor again, he could punch him in the face and listen to his jaw break on impact….
A daydream keeping him going.
Being young, quick and quite strong for his build, Chuuya quickly became one of the most popular kids at his dojo and it even won him a scholarship to one of the biggest sports universities in Tokyo.
This way, Chuuya could combine his career as an MMA fighter with his studies, gaining study points by winning tournaments for his college. Somehow life seemed to get better again. He wasn’t thinking about Fyodor too much anymore and even found some new people he didn’t hate talking to.
But of course, something as silly as this, something happy couldn’t last and so, his old life ended up following him. It was unexpected, since Chuuya knew for a fact that none of the people he had known back then were attending his university, much less having any interest in fighting. He’d never come across one person from back then.
At least until the day, he looked up into the crowd with pride and joy flooding his body as his arm was held high, announcing him as the winner of the fight. He’d knocked his opponent out and the crowd was roaring, cheering his name, something they’d started a couple of weeks back.
And there it was, a familiar face in the crowd with an even more familiar smile on its lips. Seeing it felt like a blow right to the sternum, knocking the air out of Chuua for a moment.
Spitting out a little bit of the blood collecting in his mouth, Chuuya walked away from the referee after bowing in respect and turned to face his coach.
“If anyone tries to get into my changing rooms later, I want them escorted out by security. Do not let anyone in, because I’ve seen someone who will most definitely try. He’s a part of back then and I don’t want to see him.”
Of course, even a plea and a warning like this didn’t keep Osamu Dazai from charming his way right into his changing rooms. Chuuya, having hopped out of the shower that moment, tightened the towel around his waist.
How could he have been that naive? Had he not learned a thing?
“Good fight.” Dazai started and leaned against the doorframe, watching Chuuya closely. “One of your better ones lately, almost made me think you’re back to your full force by now.”
Chuuya frowned and proceeded to hide behind his locker to pull off his towel and slip into a pair of shorts so that he could throw the towel over his head. Both to dry his short hair and to cover his face. Why was Dazai here? What did he want from him?
Remaining silent, Chuuya forced Dazai to continue the conversation if he wanted to so badly. Not like that was something hard for him to do.
“Truly love when you don’t have to use your hands to fight. Makes it so much more fun and shameful for your opponent. Quite satisfying to watch your opponent go down while you still have your hands tucked away like that.
Your arm’s fine again though, right?”
Ever since the beginning of his career, Chuuya’s staple had been not using his hands. Not until it was absolutely necessary at least. Over these years and with enough training, he had actually gotten good enough at it to make it a sign of respect as well. If he needed to use his hands to fight an opponent then it was something for the other party to be proud of for sure.
Nevertheless, none of this answered the questions he had. Why was Dazai here and what did he want?
“Is there a point to this conversation?” Chuuya’s voice was cold, fitting with how his body trembled, stress filling him and pushing away the adrenaline he’d felt before. Trying to work against that, he reached up to the towel and started to ruffle his short hair with it, rubbing it dry.
“Not really.” The comparison between the way they talked truly was something akin to day and night. Contrary to his cold speech, Dazai’s voice was filled with a warmth he hadn’t heard in over 3 years now. A warmth he had yearned for and yet came to hate.
He didn’t want Dazai to be so nice, he wanted him to be angry and just as frustrated as Chuuya was. A part of him even wanted them to fight like in the old days.
While another part just wanted him to leave so that he wouldn’t be reminded of any of this anymore.
“In that case, I’d very much like for it to be over. I told you once that I don’t want to talk to you ever again, so if you don’t want anything else from me, then leave.”
“Chibi…”
And that was where his heart broke. Right then and there, he could hear it shatter at the sound of that stupid little nickname Dazai had given him. A stupid nickname that brought tears to his eyes, making them sting nicely and even made his breathing a little flatter; quicker. How dare- how could he say it like that? In a tone that was sure to get Chuuya to break? Was that what he wanted?
“Chibi, listen. I’m sorry about what I said back then, about him. We were both young and stupid in our own rights. At least I know I was.”
Chuuya could hear it as clear as day. Through the words Dazai said, he could hear the man tell him ‘Don’t you see how I told you before and you wouldn’t listen?’. Of course, he had come to do nothing but gloat over how wrong Chuuya and how right he had been. Boasting and laughing at Chuuya because, after all, he’d known better and if Chuuya just listened. If he’d just-
Using the towel to dry the tears before they could run down his cheeks any further and be seen, Chuuya turned to face Dazai. He pulled the towel from his head fully now, throwing it to the side as he glanced at Dazai for the first time.
He looked good, which was obviously a problem because Chuuya looked quite beaten after the fight, his bruises forming underneath his skin. More importantly, though, Dazai was fiddling with the bandages on his fingers again, like he usually did.
Chuuya had never figured out if it was a nervous tick, something he did for comfort, or if there had been a reason for it.
“And what? You’re so much smarter now? Cut the crap, Dazai. You’re a shitty person and I still haven’t forgiven you for- for-” saying all those things back then. For making him care even in the slightest.
No.
Chuuya pushed all of those feelings rising in his chest away and suffocated them before he could end up catching anything. He didn’t want to feel good about a situation he was clearly not enjoying. Feeling good while talking to Dazai was something that simply couldn’t happen and he’d do anything to stop it. After all, he made a decision back then and was not going to back down from making another one now.
“Before you say anything…” Dazai interrupted his thoughts as if he’d been able to read them or at least knew what Chuuya was going to do next.
“As I said, I don’t want anything. Just… wanted to see your face again and hear your voice. You look… good. I like the short hair on you quite a bit. It fits your face shape…”
Dazai’s stupid smile in combination with that compliment- who was this man?! Where was the asshole who wouldn’t stop teasing him, the jerk who’d go out of his way to ridicule Chuuya? Where had he gone? Was he… dead?
“I don’t care about your compliments,” Chuuya said with a snort.
“No, I know you don’t. You’d much rather hear me say that I preferred it longer. How it framed your hair better and you look like a little hedgehog that fell into a bucket of paint.” Dazai was chuckling to himself, looking at Chuuya with a shake of his head. “Which… is nothing but the truth but Chibi still looks adorable, so it doesn’t matter.”
Chuuya exhaled and smashed his locker shut after pulling out his hoodie and his pair of sweats. Throwing on the latter, he ran a hand over his short, spiky head. “If that’s all you’re here for, then please leave and do feel free never to bother me again. Would really make my life so much better.”
Like the last time when they’d spoken, there was a silence spreading between them and although it wasn’t necessarily a bad or uncomfortable one this time, it still reminded Chuuya of their last fight. He wanted to scream about it, cry- throw up. Somehow, standing here and being observed by Dazai in this way made him feel just as raw and vulnerable as he had when Fyodor left him.
He hated it so much.
“Is that your decision then? Is it what you’ll choose for the rest of your life, Chuuya?” The little smile stayed firm on his face, even though his voice revealed how he felt. “Because if it really is what you want then you’ll get it. Tell me you never want to see me again and I’ll ensure you won’t. Not if I can arrange it at least.”
No.. fighting? Not another smart comment?
Dazai gave in although he had clearly gone out of his way to get into the changing rooms to see and hear Chuuya? That was some odd behaviour but Chuuya most definitely wasn’t ready to ask for the reason pertaining to it.
“Yes. It is what I wish. I don’t want to see you again or speak to you again. I made my decision years ago and would like you to respect it.” As he spoke, he could feel something in him break a little bit. Like there was a piece of him chipping off his newly repaired and barely functioning heart. A miracle, after all he hadn’t known that there still was anything that could break.
Dazai looked down at his hand again, making a fist with it and nodding at the decision the other made. He exhaled and looked back up at Chuuya.
“Alea a Fatis iacta est.” Chuuya wasn’t entirely sure if his voice trembled or if it was just because Dazai spoke on an exhale. “I accept your decision and I hope you won’t come to regret it one day.”
This time, it was Dazai who turned to leave, waving behind him with his hand. Oddly enough, Chuuya thought he’d seen something on the others hand, something shimmering there but… it surely was just the bandages in the light.
For a moment, he had wanted to reach out to him, telling him to stop and how he wanted to be friends again, how he wanted him back. He wanted to scream out how much he needed his best friend in his life again but he had made his decision.
He was eighteen now. He would live with it.
Chuuya had never believed the whole soulmate theory.
He’d always thought that the whole deal with finding your true soulmate was people talking shit and forcing their way of life on others.
Until he found out that it was neither bullshit nor a way of forcing a lifestyle on anyone.
It wasn’t a fluke.
Not a lie.
In no way an elaborate ploy for society not to fall apart.
He’d never believed in the red string being a potential reality until the day it appeared on his hand, right in front of his own two eyes.
Until he finally came to see the connection to the person he had vowed to never speak to again.
It truly was a beautiful day out, Chuuya was sitting on a park bench with a fellow athlete he had come to teach and coach by now. A young thing called Akutagawa. The kid was bright and had good reflexes but his eagerness to fight stood in his way of winning just like the need to prove himself.
By now, Chuuya had been a fighter for almost 5 years and one of the most important things he’d learned was that keeping a cool head and not being too eager made a great difference in fights. Not going overboard or in for the kill too early helped with keeping a closed front and avoiding getting knocked out too soon.
Of course, that was something Akutagawa would learn as time passed, which Chuusy knew. After all, at 22 years old he was staring at an 18-year-old who still had so much more to learn. Even Chuuya had more to learn, his career only just started.
With his feet kicked out onto the pathway, Chuuya’s head was tilted backward, his face hidden underneath a simple black beanie he started wearing during winter. The sun was pouring down on the two of them, drenching them in warmth and the feelings of the arriving summer.
Next to him, Akutagawa was going on and on about his last fight and how he could have won if he’d just trained a little more. Maybe even eaten just a tad bit more beforehand. After all that would have certainly been a great remedy for the slight nausea he’d felt in the beginning.
Also, he rambled on about his cough that wouldn’t go away.
Unfortunately for Ryunosuke, Chuuya had long stopped listening to him, as, somewhere halfway through his rant, blue eyes had caught sight of something truly shocking. Something… something making his chest burn with so much pain. Hurting…
Across the park, right by that bench, where Chuuya had broken his own heart for the first time as he told Dazai he never wanted to see or speak to him again-
Right there, Dazai had the audacity of sitting and speaking with a girl. A girl!
It was stupid. So goddamn stupid to get upset about but yet Chuuya did. There was a rough feeling of upset rising in him, spreading throughout his entire body because…
Dazai had promised that he’d never see him again. He’d told Chuuya that he’d do anything to ensure they wouldn’t encounter one another again and now here he was, sitting on their bench and talking to some stupid and way too pretty girl.
It hurt so much, that Chuuya let out a soft groan that caught his young trainee’s attention. “Chuuya-san? Is everything alright?” Akutagawa’s face was riddled with worry and concern because Chuuya rarely showed pain, much less when he hadn’t been punched prior to it.
Though it certainly fucking felt like a punch to the gut.
Once again, he didn’t really get that much attention from Chuuya because the poor man had other things on his mind. Other things that included this stupid pain made him feel like his chest was tightening more and more, giving him a hard time breathing.
The worst part about it was that he knew the feeling so well. He was familiar with it after having felt like this for almost an entire year after Fyodor dropped him.
Chuuya was heartbroken. Sad. Jealous.
Looking down at the hand fisting his shirt right above his heart, a red shimmer appeared around his ring finger, becoming more and more visible with every shallow, frantic breath he drew. A string formed, wrapping around his finger, decorating it with a pretty little red bow right above the knot.
Blue eyes, wide with shock were barely able to process what they were looking at. There was a red string, a red string dropping from his finger onto the earth, laying on the pathway, crossing it and then disappearing in the grass right in front of him.
If he followed it with his gaze, then-
No… nono-
Chuuya’s voice was rough and hoarse, as he told Akutagawa that everything was alright and asked him to stay put while he went to see something.
He got up from the bench, walking on slightly wobbly legs and followed the string. While walking through the grass as the string led him right across the park to the other side. It was hard for him to walk, after all, his was seeing a red string appear right after looking at Dazai. And the string… was most definitely leading him towards their bench.
The closer he got to Dazai, the more the string shortened. It didn’t seem to pool like a regular string of yarn would but simply got shorter and shorter without him feeling a thing. As if it were created by magic.
It was truly appalling but now that he saw it, he couldn’t stop himself from following it, couldn’t stop himself from walking towards Dazai, now seeing the red shimmer around the other’s finger as well.
When he reached the bench and stopped right in front of the two people sitting on it, Chuuya didn’t know what to do or say, he couldn’t really react to anything happening, was still processing the onslaught of information and more importantly the surreality of it.
He must be dreaming.
Or actually having a nightmare…
“Chuuya?” Dazai’s voice caught his attention and he finally looked up from the string connecting them and stared into those warm brown eyes. “What are you doing here?”
“You- you’re…” No chance. Chuuya wouldn’t even be able to get the words out even if he knew what to say about all of this.
Looking into Dazai’s face, he could see him observe the situation, and analyze it on the information he had gotten so far. Seemingly coming to some sort of conclusion, he turned towards the young lady.
“That’s all for now, Naomi. I’ll see you back at the office but I’ll take a moment here. Just finish everything off the way we discussed.”
The girl, Naomi, nodded at his words and smiled. “Okay, yeah!” Her voice was a lot less respectful than the situation would have called for in Chuuya’s eyes. Getting up, she gave a little wave and then headed off.
Dazai was looking much older than the last time Chuuya had seen him. He was no longer dressed in all black but instead had found himself some lighter colors that worked just a little too well with those beautiful brown eyes. They had followed Naomi for a moment but were now looking right up at the redhead.
“Long time no see.”
Somehow, Chuuya knew that he was making this difficult on purpose. It was obvious from that stupid teasing look in his eyes. He knew.
Had… wait- had he known?! For how long? Was he- No…
“You can see it right?” Chuuya finally blurted out.
“See what, Chuuya?”
“The- the-” He couldn’t say it. Saying those words out loud would make it real and speaking about it meant the end of everything Chuuya had believed ever since he’d been a child. It meant going back on promises, vows… threats.
To himself and others.
It would mean this was actually real and Dazai- Dazai was…
“The?” That bastard was playing games and Chuuya knew it. He could see it in the way Dazai wasn’t taking over the conversation, wasn’t butting in and making Chuuya feel stupid with his words. Instead, he was waiting for him to say it out loud himself. Forcing his tongue.
Frustrated, cornered, angry and mostly embarrassed, Chuuya looked down at his hand with that stupid little red string tied around it and turned it into a fist, letting it drop down by his hips. “Nevermind.” He muttered. “Whatever…”
Turning to walk away again because he just wasn’t ready for this, he looked at Akutagawa standing next to the bench where he had left him, seemingly unsure if he should follow or do as he’d been told and stay put.
Chuuya didn’t get too far though, since there was a hand grabbing him by the wrist and easily twirling him around so that he was facing Dazai again. Or rather the bastard's chest. He really needed to shrink a little, that fucking jerk.
“Yes I can see it,” Dazai confirmed his suspicions with a steady, almost amused voice. “You asking me, means that you finally can too, hm?”
Hell would break loose before he’d actually admit that out loud, but at least he could ask some questions about it.
“You- Since when?!”
“You don’t actually want the answer to that.” Dazai sighed softly, shaking his head. “Probably would end up punching me and while I took your right hook eight years ago with pride, I’m not exactly eager to repeat that right now, mister MMA.”
Fair.
“Fucking tell me, asshole. Since when have you been able to see it?!”
It was almost comical how Dazai debated with himself on whether or not to speak. Ultimately, he seemed to opt for a ‘go’, since he let out yet another sigh and reached for Chuuya’s other hand as well. Maybe it was supposed to be a means of keeping his hands secured and minimizing the potential of getting smacked in the face again.
“I’ve been able to see it… almost all my life. Don’t know why. I’ve done the research on it and it’s not very common for children to see the strings. After all, romantic interest is something that comes in around puberty, where most people tend to be able to see their strings for the first time. If they already met their soulmate.
So… it’s- God it’s so fucking rare to lay your eyes on someone in kindergarten and have the string appear but that’s what happened. One day a tiny redhead who could barely speak our language joined the group and there it was. Leading to you.”
Group- Children… Kindergarten?!
He- Dazai…
No way.
“You’re lying.” Chuuya’s voice was hollow as he was unable to process that properly. Of course, Dazai had no reason to lie at this point but if this were reality then
“Not lying.” Dazai snorted, still not letting go of Chuuya’s hands, instead, he started to push his index fingers into the other's fists, trying to open them up. “I’ve been trying to tell you all my life. Asked you to play soulmates because I was scared you’d yell at me and not want to talk to me if I told you I could see the red string. Of course, you denied.
Asked you out back in primary school, remember? You denied.
Took you out on several dates and called them that but you always insisted on it being nothing but friends hanging out.” Pausing for a moment, Dazai smiled. “It was a little disheartening having to listen to your other half dismiss the concept of soulmates the way you did. But I couldn’t tell you. You were so damn insistent.”
Chuuya stared at Dazai, reminded of every single moment in time where Dazai had opened up about something stupid and Chuuya had dismissed him. Did he really try to tell him all along? All this time?!
He felt helpless looking into Dazai’s eyes who looked back at him with such intensity. It almost felt like he was being stripped bare right where he stood.
“So-” Thinking was hard. Really hard. “When… back then, right here, when you told me-”
“Told you I loved you?” That bastard was chuckling. Chuckling!!! How could he chuckle when Chuuya almost felt like he was going to start crying or screaming or both, any second?!
“And that I’m jealous of that piece of shit because he managed to get you, while I was left being a bystander? That was the truth, yes. But you weren’t ready for it yet. I could see it in your eyes.”
No.. nonono- it couldn’t be…
This certainly could not be happening. Dazai couldn’t be his soulmate. Chuuya would have known if this had been the case, he’d have felt something. But he never did. Someone was surely pulling a prank on him. On them even. This- couldn’t be true.
“Are you hungry? I’d love to take you out on a proper first date - for once - and answer all your questions. I’m sure you have a lot since you’re clearly having issues processing everything, don’t you?”
That fucking prick-
“Though you’ll have to pay. Naomi took my wallet, so I’m all broke right now. A high-ranked fighter like you surely has some spare cash, no?”
“Okay-” He said but wasn’t actually agreeing to anything, he just felt like the conversation needed to go on. Chuuya’s mind was still stuck in a loop of remembering every single thing that had happened in his life and how Dazai had been his soulmate all this time.
All the choices he had made…
All of the different points in his life, where he could have seen the truth if he had simply turned the other way and made a different decision.
If only…
If he had seen it earlier, maybe he’d been able to avoid Fyodor or-
“What if I don’t want you to be my soulmate?” Chuuya’s voice remained hollow, almost disconnected in a way.
“Well… I don’t know what to do about that. I never wanted my soulmate to hate the idea of us this much but even though I’ve tried very hard, I’ve never been able to change your opinion on it. You have changed it yourself.” Pausing to tilt his head to the side a little, brown eyes were narrowing at him. “You… do remember what it means to see the string connecting us, do you?”
Finally letting go of at least one of Chuuya’s hands, Dazai reached up to grab Chuuya’s chin and take hold of him that way. “It means you’re in love with me Chibi. Utterly and madly in love or at least that’s what I think you are. Judging by the dirty death glare you gave poor little Naomi just now.”
“I could never love a prick like you.” It was so easy to spit something back when Dazai was being mean to him. So easy to deny everything because he couldn’t. He simply couldn’t love this man. After all, Chuuya hated him. He had hated him for years and would never stop, that’s what he told himself.
“Sounds like you’ll have to learn how to accept your feelings. You’ve suffered quite a bit, so I’d be happy to help you through it. God I’d take all of that pain away from you if you’d just let me Chibi…”
“You’re just going to make it worse…”
“No, Chuuya.” Dazai’s grip on his chin tightened a little as he spoke. “I promise you one thing: I’ll make your life a living hell but it will be one you’ll never want to escape from.”
There was something so utterly comforting in Dazai’s words. Like being told that his life would get so much better wasn’t what Chuuya needed.
As if Dazai knew that hell on earth was always going to be the road Chuuya would take in life and he’d be there to make the ride enjoyable.
After all, he’d always known better.
“I hate you.”
“No, you don’t, Chuuya.”
“Yes, I do.”
Sighing, Dazai gave up talking to the other and instead leaned in to seal Chuuya’s lips in a kiss. Even though he hadn’t asked, Chuuya wasn’t appalled, wasn’t pulling away but instead grabbed Dazai’s shirt and pulled him in, letting the joy of being loved flow through him for the first time in years.
Fuck.
“In that case, I guess I hate you so much more~”
Dazai whispered against his lips before going back in and continuing their kiss before Chuuya had a chance to complain about it being broken in the first place.
Fine.
Maybe he didn’t hate him as much as he wanted to.
Vicerunt Fata.