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The storm hissed outside, wind clawing at the windows, rain crashing in heavy sheets against the glass. Inside the dim pub, the lights glowed amber. It smelled of wood, spilled wine, and silence.
Then—
“You went out for a drink?”
A voice cut through the stillness. “Without inviting me?”
Dazai huffed and took a couple gulps from her glass. “I just need to think…”
Chuuya snorted. “Never pegged you for one.”
Dazai rolled her eyes.
“And what were you thinking about? How to kill yourself?”
“I’d color you surprised, but not this time. I just thought about… what we’re doing with our lives.”
Chuuya ordered herself some wine and sipped, one eyebrow raised skeptically. “Here we go — all dramatic. Spill it. What happened?”
Dazai let out an intentionally theatrical sigh. “Any guesses, mon ami?”
“She dumped you again?”
Dazai made another sip, her face unreadable.
“And why this time?”
“I don’t know. She just… ghosted me.”
Chuuya hid her smirk behind her glass. “Typical. I still don’t get why you keep trying to play into relationships after so many failures.”
“For my own dramatic reasons.”
“Of course,” Chuuya muttered, chewing a grape.
“What? You expect me to say something like ‘Oh, I’m just lonely’?”
Chuuya giggled. “Uh-huh. And add a fake tear for realism.”
Dazai chuckled faintly. “Don’t worry, mackerella. You won’t be completely alone, right? You have me.”
“Yeah… I have you…” Dazai echoed, but softer now. “But neither you, nor anyone else, can fill the void. Only me, apparently. And I have no idea how.”
Chuuya didn’t interrupt, only listened.
“I don’t know how to become a Sun,” Dazai said, her fingers tightening slightly around her glass. “I’m usually just… a black hole.”
Chuuya took a quiet moment, swirling her wine in the glass. “And why would you want to be the Sun? It’s not your nature. And yes — you’re right. I can’t fill that void for you. No one can.”
She glanced sideways at Dazai, her eyes softening with something between sympathy and frustration.
“But that doesn’t mean you should keep trying to fill it with failed relationships. It’s just a temporary patch, and clearly, it doesn’t work for you.”
Dazai stared at the melting ice in her glass, then murmured, “I feel like… if I’m not truly seen, it would be better if I didn’t exist at all.”
Chuuya let out an exasperated sigh.
“That’s not the point, Dazai. The point is — your behavior and attitude drive them away. You’re the common denominator in all these failed relationships.”
She took a deep breath, trying to cool the tension starting to rise in her own voice.
“Blaming everyone else is never going to solve your problem.”
Dazai scoffed, sarcasm biting. “Oh yeah, yeah, it’s all my fault. But what’s interesting is — you’re still here.”
Chuuya rolled her eyes for what felt like the tenth time that evening, a familiar mixture of annoyance and affection dancing on her face.
“Someone has to tolerate your insufferable ass. Might as well be me.”
She leaned back in her seat, taking a long sip.
“Don’t let it get to your head, though. I’ve got my own reasons for sticking around, you know.”
“Oh really? Color me shocked. Like what?”
Chuuya smirked, already relishing the next jab.
“Oh, just because you’re entertaining, you know. Watching you mope around after getting dumped is the highlight of my week.”
She chuckled softly, sarcasm laced in every word.
“And because someone needs to keep your sorry ass in check.”
Dazai blinked at her, frowning faintly.
“That’s it? And what do you get back from me? I honestly don’t see any profit.”
Chuuya sighed with theatrical drama.
“Ugh, and here you go with your practicality again. Not everything is about profit, you know.”
She took another sip and leaned on the table.
“You really think our friendship is about what I get from you? Sometimes you’re really dense, you know that?”
“Whoa?! Me? Dense? Never!”
Chuuya burst into laughter, shaking her head.
“Right, how silly of me. You’re the epitome of intelligence, indeed.”
She rolled her eyes again, voice dripping with sarcasm.
“I must’ve been blinded by your brilliance all these years.”
“Ha-ha. Laugh all you want, shortie.”
Chuuya’s eyes narrowed instantly.
“Watch who you’re calling ‘shortie’, you overgrown beanpole.”
She scowled, her voice laced with playful threat.
“I may be short, but I can still kick your ass with one hand tied behind my back. Don’t forget that.”
Then she grinned smugly. “Besides, I might be short, but I have other qualities that make up for it. Like my impeccable fashion sense.”
Chuuya cast a satisfied glance over herself, her fingers brushing her sleeve.
“I mean, look at me. I’m a fashion icon. You, on the other hand…”
Her gaze slid over Dazai’s half-rumpled look, her lip curling slightly.
“You look like you just rolled out of bed.”
Before Dazai could even respond, Chuuya raised a hand.
“Oh, and don’t let me even start about my obvious body advantages. This gal at least has boobs.”
Dazai snorted into her drink. “Oh yeah, you’re just jealous that my development affected my brain and not just curves — unlike some people.”
Chuuya’s eyes widened, her hand twitching into a fist. “Jealous? Of you? Please. I have intelligence, skill, style, and body. You just have a superiority complex and a big mouth.”
She smirked again, this time more wickedly than before.
“I’ll have you know, I have plenty of brain power. And I’m perfectly capable of making intelligent decisions without being distracted by… certain assets.”
Her gaze flicked meaningfully across Dazai’s figure, then back to her face.
“Unlike someone who seems to have a one-track mind.”
Dazai rolled her eyes, downing the last of her whiskey.
“Are you done yet? Because it’s getting stuffy in here from your groundless bragging, slug.”
Chuuya scoffed, her smirk slipping into a scowl.
“Groundless bragging? Please. I’m just stating facts. Not my fault you can’t handle them.”
She leaned back, arms folded.
“And don’t call me ‘slug,’ you tall, gloomy tower of emo despair.”
They sat there a little longer, not saying anything. Outside, the storm raged on, but neither of them moved. It was late. But leaving felt like too much effort. So they stayed, two fractured souls orbiting one another quietly, like they always did.