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Soft brown curls framed Dazai’s face. His smile small, as if he had just realised what it was to live.
He’s… Breathtaking.
Chuuya had known, deep down that he cared for the man falling in front of him, but now, with the shock of finally realising he would never see Dazai alive again, he was torn apart.
And the cause of this… was the death of Dazai’s closest friend, Oda Sakunosuke. Because Chuuya wasn’t enough for him to live. And Chuuya wasn’t fast enough for him to live.
His arm still outstretched after reaching out to pull Dazai back from the edge of the rooftop.
The warmth he usually felt in his chest, gone. For at that moment all he could think about was Dazai.
And how this was the end.
~~~
Four years had passed and Chuuya could still picture that bandaged face and body with his long black coat buffeting in the wind as he fell from a 28-story building. And could remember the events that led up to Dazai’s death in perfect clarity.
He stared down at the deep crimson liquid sloshing around in decorated crystal.
If he had been fast enough.
If he had picked up Dazai’s call instead of letting it go to voicemail.
He felt guilty for all of it.
Hey Chuuya… Sorry for calling you at this time of night…
You’re probably asleep, heh, probably drank too much wine~
I just wanted to say…
Dazai’s voice sounded wet, and it cracked slightly.
Goodbye.
The thirteen second voicemail stopped.
And Chuuya took a sip of his wine. It seemed such a short time ago that Kouyou found him sitting on that rooftop, detached from the world. Informing him that Mori wanted to see him in his office.
Of course she noticed the state he was in and sat with him for a while. Being surprisingly unquestioning.
He didn’t remember how long it took him to finally stand up, and step away from the edge that he was fighting everything within himself not to jump off too. He might have, if Kouyou wasn’t there.
In fact, he didn’t remember much from after the fall itself. Except Mori’s sharp eyes as he viewed Chuuya’s dissociation.
“I suppose you already know then.
It’s rather stupid of you to let it happen. If anyone could’ve convinced him not to do this it would’ve been you. You better make up for losing this valuable asset.”
Mori had been seemingly uncaring in the slightest, especially since most thought Dazai was his favourite.
But why? Why was this affecting Chuuya four entire years later?
He hadn’t cared about Dazai back then—or at least shown it.
But he knew why, he had come to peace with it since a month ago.
He was in love with Osamu Dazai.
And Osamu Dazai was dead.
A small tear fell from a deep blue eye. Leaving cold tracks on his face.
“Once there is one, you can’t stop the rest.” Dazai had once said to him, although it had been in reference to the deep red lines Chuuya had found beneath Dazai’s bandages. It worked for tears too.
He raised his head from his glass slowly, the light peeking through the curtains a sign that he had once again drunk through the night.
Fortunately it was his day off, so he let time slip by, drifting between thoughts and worries.
He finally gathered himself mid-afternoon, and yet, could not find it within himself to curse Dazai for doing this to him.
When the phone began to ring, his usually clear blue eyes widened slightly, becoming less foggy. No one called him on his day off unless it was an emergency, and no one called him unless it was work related.
He cursed under his breath and managed to stand up, his mind swaying a little, like his head.
“Hello?” It came out gruffer than he had intended.
“Ah, Chuuya-kun, I’d like a word with you.”
Mori almost never called, normally he would send word with someone else.
“Is everything alright?”
“Meet me in my office immediately.”
“Yes… Boss,” he said through his teeth.
He often took advantage of Chuuya’s loyalty to the Mafia. Getting him to do jobs and such on his day off, but this time felt different—with the direct call and this tingling feeling that was growing in his lower stomach.
It was a short trip on his motorcycle to the Port Mafia headquarters.
Whispers followed the executive as he made his way to the elevator.
“What the hell is going on,” he muttered under his breath.
“Chuuya-”
He turned around.
“Kouyou?”
The elder executive looked at him with soft eyes. She hesitated.
“I… Good luck.”
She squeezed his hand gently.
This was weird, Chuuya didn’t like how everyone was looking at him either like he was going to die or go on a killing spree. Neither option rather appealed to him right now.
Brushing it off he got in the elevator and went into Mori’s office.
“Boss?”
Chuuya intended to keep things civil, as although his loyalty was unaltered, his quality of work had lessened due to the brunet’s death.
“There’s something you should know,” Mori sighed, as if it wasn’t important and he had much better things to do with his time.
“Hmm?”
“The Demon Prodigy is alive.”
Chuuya staggered a little.
“I’m sorry boss, I seem to have misheard you.”
Mori sighed, “You heard me correctly, Osamu Dazai is alive and chained in the Port Mafia dungeon.”
The world was distorting around Chuuya. Dazai was alive? And here?
Mori’s voice cut through whatever had grasped Chuuya’s mind.
“It seems his death was faked. A real shame he couldn’t do it for real.”
Chuuya bit his tongue.
“Anyway, I have a lot of work to do, enjoy the rest of your day off,” Mori said with a smirk.
Chuuya left incredibly fast, his feet taking him where his mind hadn’t quite made up if he really wanted to go.
Soon he stood awkwardly in front of a large copper door.
Did he really want to do this? He couldn’t sort through his emotions. Was he angry that Dazai faked his death? Was he relieved that he could see the brunet again? Or was he just so incredibly tired of this drink, think, and repeat cycle that he was hoping something would come of seeing Dazai again?
Either way, he wouldn’t be able to live with himself if he missed possibly the only opportunity for talking with the man he was in love with, he was a traitor of the Port Mafia after all.
Before fully deciding, he pushed the door open, steeling himself for the flood of emotions he expected.
Though of course nothing could prepare him for the utter relief that flooded him at the sight of the brunet.
“Dazai!” He ran forward to the man chained on the wall.
Coffee eyes looked up and a huge smile stretched across Dazai’s face.
Chuuya halted, his stormy blue eyes bore into the other.
“It’s been four years and you didn’t tell me you were alive.”
Dazai’s smile drooped a little.
“I know you must be mad at me.”
He was, incredibly so. In fact all the anger of four years had pent up and now he was bursting at the seams.
He marched over to where Dazai was and pinned him further against the wall despite the chains already holding him in place.
“You bastard.”
What surprised them both was his voice sounded wet, his vision blurred with tears.
“You stupid mackerel, do you know how hard it was for me to move on after you…”
His voice broke, and his grip on Dazai fell. The taller circled his arms around Chuuya, having had escaped his chains long before.
“I regretted it, as soon as it was done. But I knew the only way I could leave the Port Mafia was to make you think I was dead. If you had asked me to stay, I couldn’t have said no.”
The red-head was silently sobbing into Dazai’s arms.
“Why did you need to leave?”
“Odasaku-”
“You weren’t just here for him were you?”
Chuuya still believed he should have tried harder, to be a better friend to Dazai in the Port Mafia, then he wouldn’t need to leave because his only good friend died. Or maybe they were more than that. Chuuya couldn’t help but feel nauseous, jealousy for one of Dazai’s dead friends was less than appealing.
Dazai took Chuuya’s face in his palms. Soft brown eyes stared into an ocean. With anyone else Dazai’s eyes would look cold, empty, and calculating, but with Chuuya there was a spark. A spark that existed with no one else.
“Chuuya, I left to become a better person, to make the world a better place.” For you, only for you.
“I would have come with you.” I would follow you anywhere.
The two understood each other, without even needing to directly say what they meant.
The brunet brought the ginger closer, closing the gap.
It was a connection both had craved for the four years apart, even before that. Years of unresolved feelings finally came to light as Chuuya pulled Dazai in further.
Both pairs of lips, soft on the other. When they finally broke away the atmosphere had shifted into something more quiet, more intimate.
The I love you’s unsaid but still spoken in this strange silent way which only the two could understand.