Work Text:
Things could have been worse, he supposed but death wasn’t something quick. Not in the world Chuuya had grown up in. It lingered and clung to all those that knew them. Even if they knew or if it was “their time” the death was never forgotten. When he’d heard an Agency member had died to a Guild member, Chuuya was scared. He feared for Atsushi, his mentor, and…Dazai. He didn’t think he’d died by any means, he just had this unsettling feeling that Dazai was involved in it.
Chuuya had no reason to doubt Dazai’s intentions within the Agency. He was most certainly someone who disregarded the lives of others at times, utilising them as tools for what he believed to be a greater purpose, but something had shifted. It wasn’t just him. The entire Agency had changed with the death of that girl. Personally, Chuuya hadn’t known her all that well. He’d only ever known her through Atsushi and Akutagawa. What struck him the most when he saw those three together was just how much she was loved by them. With all its flawed, jagged and deadly edges, she was loved and Chuuya had always been jealous of that fact. Perhaps he should’ve expected her death to mean so much to those around her.
Out of respect, Fyodor had held off his attacks on the Agency. Well, they all knew that was a lie. Fyodor was taking the opportunity to get his claws back into Atsushi. It was sickening to watch his grief be used in such a way but a part of Chuuya did want Atsushi back. He wanted to be loved by him just like that girl had been. The more reasonable part of Chuuya felt obligated to warn Dazai. After all, Atsushi was his mentor now, not Chuuya’s. So, he asked to meet with him.
The air was bitter and a distant lamp flickered at the end of the alleyway. In an attempt to get warm, Chuuya rubbed his hands together and blew into them. It had been non stop rain for days so the aftermath was still lingering in the air. The patter of feet against the damp concrete caught Chuuya’s attention. He was surprised when he saw Dazai with shorter hair and a change of clothes. More alarmingly, his demeanour was more skittish than previously. It was bizarre to see such a prideful man reduced to a shell of himself. Dazai had been called a lot of things since Chuuya met him. A demon. A soulless husk. A human. Yet, in that moment, he looked just like Chuuya- a kid who got dealt a bad set of cards.
Everyone wanted to be good. Very few made the steps Dazai had. Sure, he struggled to succeed with being good but the Agency had become a home for him. He loved them all, whether he acknowledged that fact or not. Regardless, from the moment he’d seen Dazai he knew that his usually playful antics were off the table. Chuuya got the Fyodor situation debrief out of the way fast while leaving it vague enough for the information not to be trailed back to him. After they’d spoken for a bit about the state of Yokohama and all of the organisations within, Dazai said something Chuuya didn’t expect.
“I’m going to leave the Agency.”
“You…what?” Chuuya couldn’t hide his sheer astonishment at Dazai’s declaration.
“I don’t deserve to be around them anymore. I’m not a good person. I’m not even close. …I’ve only hurt the Agency,” Dazai muttered with a vacant look in his eyes.
It was the same as when they’d first met. Not in that alleyway while trying to catch Randou. No, the day they met in the centre of destruction where Chuuya was stuck in a limbo of never ending agony and utter peace. Years could’ve passed for him or mere hours and the result of nothingness within him would’ve felt the same. Every muscle contorted and flesh peeled at a painfully slow rate yet, simultaneously, he couldn’t feel a thing. His memories, his friends, his mentor and his entire life just seemed so distant from him. Then, he felt a touch of lighting in the centre of his back like a jolt awake when you fall asleep too fast. He couldn’t even see what had happened before the person’s arms were around his waist, holding him up long enough to slump him against debris. Chuuya had been sure he was dead and this was some form of an Angel that had appeared to relieve his burden. Instead, he saw ,what he believed at the time was a girl, cupping his face with dark eyes and a darker soul.
“Nakajima can’t even look at me. I can’t even look at myself anymore,” he laughed, “My reflection isn’t even mine. It’s just a gaping hole with names of everyone I’ve ever wronged and justifications I’ve had to make up to keep breathing. It’s been fun but…maybe I should stop pretending I was ever supposed to be good.”
They stood side by side in silence for a time. Chuuya thought Dazai was wrong. Chuuya couldn’t deny Dazai usually was right about these kind of things, he knew that. Dazai had proven him wrong hundreds of times but Chuuya knew he was wrong about this. In all his intelligence, Dazai was oblivious to his own nature. No one could figure out the maze that was his mind, not even himself. However, Chuuya didn’t need to know all that to know Dazai. He may think of himself as the most despicable person on earth if he’d like. Chuuya knew it wasn’t true and he wouldn’t let him lie to himself either.
“You’re not as bad as everyone says you are,” Chuuya murmured just so that Dazai could hear beside him.
The words rung out in the alleyway with the kind of certainty and sincerity you’d expect from a life long friend. Then, Chuuya heard something. Something so viscerally human he knew it had come from Dazai. At first it was small, a hitch of the breath. Gradually, it became more intense as Dazai hunched over to cover his face. He sobbed into his hands and he didn’t stop for a while. Dazai’s tall walls didn’t seem so high as he hunched next to Chuuya, a wet mess. With a grimace on his face, Chuuya turned and watched the man stare back at him with tears in his eyes. A trembling bottom lip and eyes so wide that Chuuya felt like he had to pinch himself awake. The expression was practically foreign to Dazai’s face and all Chuuya could do was let his mouth hang slightly open as words to such a situation completely escaped him.
“Nakahara,” Dazai croaked, “I knew she was going to die. When we said goodbye, she smiled at me and nodded as if she knew. She knew the possibility was so high and I did nothing.”
“…Dazai-,” Chuuya tried to reason with him but he just cut him up.
“I did nothing. How could I ever be a good person now?” Dazai asked with the kind of desperation Chuuya was familiar with. Not from someone else but his own experiences. The kind of desperation from someone at the bottom of a well screaming towards the light. The kind the two of them were all too familiar with.
Chuuya maybe should’ve thought longer on his answer. In his mind though, there was really only one response.
“You’re an idiot,” Chuuya spat, “You stay and honour her. You don’t run away like a coward. You stay in the Agency and fight for her memory. That’s what you do and if you think of running away I’ll drag your ass back. Even if I have to go to Hell to get you.”
With that, something seemed to click within Dazai. His tears stopped and he tilted his head, grinning. Dazai’s eyes lit up and he laughed, “Nakahara, you’re the worst dog ever. How’d I get stuck with a mutt like you?”
“Hey! Don’t call me that! Call me Chuuya!”
“Hm? Chuuya, really?”
“Of course. We’re close enough, aren’t we?”
“What an odd thing to say amidst a War between our organisations but you’re right. I guess we are. Thank you, Chuuya.”