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Summary
It starts like it always does—a job, a drink, and Dazai pushing just far enough to get a reaction. Chuuya should be used to it. Should know better than to play into his hands. But some people carve too deep to forget, and Dazai has always been a knife at his back—and a shadow he never stops searching for.
Dazai tells himself it’s just habit—the same game and dance that keeps them from thinking too hard about the things left unsaid. But Chuuya has never been predictable in the ways that matter, and for the first time in years, Dazai feels it—that split-second of uncertainty, knowing he’s pushing too hard but refusing to stop. Because stopping means acknowledging the shift. And if he does, Chuuya might see through him—or worse, walk away for good.
Because the problem with knowing someone too well is they always know where to cut deepest. To hurt or to heal.
And when the lines between past and present blur, between resentment and something dangerously close to affection—
Well. They’ve always been good at walking a blade’s edge. It’s just a question of who falls first