Chapter Text
He peered over the dim, dark sky. It wasn’t pitch black nor were there any stars scattered across it. Those were hidden beneath the foggy curtain called light pollution, refusing to acknowledge his presence, even mock him. A smile creeped from the shadow on his face, eyes void of any glitter or expectation. Today was the day.
A concrete block lay in the morningdew littered grass, kept in place by a long rope, holding no power over its own influence. Instead, the boy who caused limitation to both of the objects further eliminated their freedom, securing their confinement around his waist. He tied it tight, so much it started to hurt. Be it not for the hushed illumination, there would not be any way to spot his doing left. Not that there was anyone to witness anything in the first place.
Step. It echoed. A sign that he was done with preparations. He moved through the no longer soft surface.
One foot exceeding the other, the other rushing to regain its lost glory, the throne snatched by its counterpart. Followed by… another step. Fight for the leading role, unaware of the story’s ending lying ahead.
The world he was born in, the life he experienced, perhaps if it was less worthless, he would turn back for the last time, whispering his declaration of gratefulness, final goodbyes. Words meant for everyone who was affiliated with him. He was under a spell, not capable of breaking from the trance cast over him. The clash his lower limbs held, regardless of how bloodthirsty, was never under his control. He merely succumbed to it, to the idea of leaving this god-forsaken place.
Had he tried to regain control, the ever so quiet splashes would suffice in bringing him back. If only there was something left behind that stare.
Gradually, his body was freed of its weight and his surroundings darkened even more as his lids closed. But there was too much missing for it to be called perfect. The moonlight, the shimmer of sparkles mirroring on the water's surface, confidence there was nothing left. Nothing that could cage him in this world.
The lungs inside of his body began to fill up with water. No willpower was present to chase it away, instead their owner breathed in, furthermore speeding up the process of eventual suffocation.
The once quiet consciousness awoke, bothering its owner with one last question.
“Is it worth it? For real?”
His now reopened burning gaze fixated on the dull water seemingly separated by his floating brown hair. It wasn’t the way he imagined it, at all. The stars were meant to accompany him, guide him through his final moments. Pain was a cheap substitute they hired, crawling through every atom belonging to his body.
Pathetic. It was all pathetic. the brunet came to realization that both, living and suicide are worthless. In the end, the only thing bearing meaning is the story one stars in. Who would’ve thought. He ended the single precious thing he owned because it disgusted him.
“It isn’t. This decision bears bigger value than my whole life,” he thought regardless, engulfing himself further in the sweet lies. Because at the end of the day, it was night. At the last pages of every story lay the ending, waiting for the main character to reach it.
Dazai Osamu was horrified when he finally took time into consideration. The yellow paint poured over the once dark sky, threatening to turn into cornflower blue before managing to reach his destination. Letting out a huff, hot steam escaped his succulent lips. He was borderline wheezing at this point, lungs aching from the excessive breathing, However, the ridiculous amounts of puffs weren’t nearly enough.
He tried to help himself using the two gigantic piles of interlocked plumes attached to his shoulder blades, which didn’t increase his speed at all. The opposite, actually. He didn’t care though. He needed the reassurance that he was doing his best and right now, thanks to truly utilizing all his resources, it felt like it. That was good enough.
After what felt like decades, at last, a house came into his vision. He passed through the resident’s walls, praying he didn’t reduce the link that tied him to the mortal realm completely. It wouldn’t be great to end up stuck in a vacuum, waiting for an envoy from heaven to rescue his sorry bum. Last time, the one forced to take up such a tedious and most of all obnoxious task was Kenji, heaven’s best skilled messenger.
There she was, ultramarine hair all over the place, hand reaching the old school alarm clock on her nightstand.
A small smile appeared on Dazai’s mouth.
Nothing happened just because he was absent for a bit. She was okay.
Ever since he took notice of his charge being surrounded by a dark aura that seemed to be worsening day by day, he grew something that could be called separation anxiety. Not in the usual sense, no, he just… was afraid of his friend’s kid dying.
Dazai knew what his death had done to Atsushi. He wasn’t there himself, but… Seeing the grief he caused was unfortunately a part of his curriculum. A guardian angel couldn’t overlook his mistakes nor flaws. He needed to face them straight, not letting them influence him anymore, because now it wasn’t only his life that could be lost.
The girl opened her eyes, a hint of pout craved into her expression. School. Ew.
Upon seeing her departure from bed, Dazai merged with the room’s corner, brushing the majestic plumes growing from his body to give Kyouka some privacy. If this moment was happening a few months ago, he would simply leave the room. As he always did.
He couldn’t just leave her in fate’s secure clutches anymore, because said fate seemed to not have nice things planned out for her.
He absent-mindedly followed her to the kitchen where her parents resided.
“Good morning,” verbalized their daughter, taking a seat by the bar counter, a small smile plastered on her face as she waited for Akutagawa to finish breakfast.
“Morning!”
“Good morning.”
Came in unison as they both turned their heads to her with cheerful expressions.
“And that's my cue to leave,” Dazai thought bitterly, not wishing to be around the two lovebirds. Still, he trusted them enough to protect Kyouka, providing him with at least a short moment for himself.
The main goal was to get as far as away though, no matter what he tried deluding himself with. He stood by the window, observing the street spread across his view. There weren't a lot of people. In fact, he could count the amount that perambulated their house in the last five minutes on one hand. He couldn't blame anyone, there was nothing interesting going on in their area.
He didn't blame anyone but he sure as hell wasn't happy about it. No free entertainment in the form of arguing strangers, no rush, no drama. No nothing. Just some lost souls wandering around without a destination in mind, presumably with too much time on their hands.
“C’mon, do a flip or something,” he mumbled at a grandma passing by.
He heard a merry goodbye in the background alongside a door opening, soon after followed by the door’s click. Kyouka was on her way to school.
Dazai didn’t even bother slipping through the door whilst it was still open, instead he severed his links to the human realm again, passing through the window. His mentor, Oda, had told him to not use this method if not necessary due to its risky nature. Well good thing he wasn't there.
“The weather is so nice today isn't it,” he spoke to the girl, knowing damn well she couldn't hear him.
“You know what isn't nice though? Your dad’s cooking. Even I could make something better than Akutagawa,” he scrunched his nose, “the scrambled eggs looked overcooked, hard to chew. How did you manage to consume that disgusting-.”
He frowned, using divine powers instinctively. Kyouka, whilst in her spaced out mode, almost took the wrong turn.
Her head perked up, eyes widening as she realized she could've gotten lost. Again.
“Are you even listening to me,” he whined, referencing her absent mindedness. It wasn't a question and he didn't expect an answer.
“Did you know, the cloud that makes thunderstorms is called cumulonimbus! It looks like a scoop of whipped cream, a really thick and high one,” he rambled on and on, explaining the process of lightning and rain coming to life.
“Kyou!” a voice chirped, a red haired girl waving at the one she greeted happily.
Kyouka un-spaced out again, this time without supernatural intervention.
“Lucy!” she exclaimed, rushing her pace to reach her best friend.
“How dare you abandon me for her again!” Dazai pouted, casting a spell on her that would make her pay closer attention to where she's going.
And thank god he did, because if he didn't, Kyouka would be run over by the truck passing by.
“Be more careful, that was so close!” Lucy lectured her friend with a deep scowl.
“No it wasn't, I was paying attention,” she responded joyfully.
“Thanks to who again,” Dazai followed the duo, making remarks at whatever they had to say.
“But still, just… You've been pretty careless lately,” she uttered, voice filled with terribly hidden concern.
“She’s right, listen to her, don’t make my job unnecessarily harder, you brat.”
“I’ll be more careful,” she promised, unaware of her protector’s comment.
The rest of their walk was a drag, at least in Dazai’s books. Having to listen to not one, but two lovesick couples was just not something he was in the mood for every morning. In fact, he found it very annoying and unpleasant.
Happy people who don't argue and make their own lives miserable, disgusting.
The time spent at school was perhaps even more boring, especially since he knew everything the crusty old men were talking about.
Unfortunately, the only teacher that wasn't over fifty that Kyouka had was her literature teacher. She didn't have literature today nor could Dazai leave. The gloominess surrounding her soul seemed even stronger than usual today and he just couldn't bring himself to risk the dangers his absence would bring.
He got up from the table he was sitting on and went to sit in the hallway’s windowsill, right across the entrance to Kyouka’s classroom. He couldn't leave her alone but that didn't mean he should be forced to breathe the youth-polluted air.
He started picking at his feathers again, trying his hardest not to pluck them, only pulling them a bit to pass time.
At Kyouka’s sad expression over a messed up exam he merely increased the amount of serotonin and endorphin produced in her brain, not particularly paying attention to Lucy coming to hug her the moment the bell rang.
It was all so boring, so mundane.