Chapter Text
Dazai’s pov
Chuuya…
Why does it always feel like this? Every time he’s near, my chest knots itself into some ridiculous mess. My heart—stupid, traitorous thing—decides it wants to sprint, just to spite me. He stands there, in the dying sun, looking like he was carved for someone else’s world, and yet… somehow it’s mine that aches. The breeze teases his hair, that infernal orange-red, and I hate how beautiful it looks. I hate that it makes me… want.
And when he says my name? Don’t get me started. It’s like someone lit a candle in my pitch-black brain. A candle that’s too bright, too warm, too… everything I shouldn’t want.
No. I can’t. I won’t. I’ve lost people before. Everyone I’ve ever dared to care about—gone. And I’ll lose him too, if I let myself. So I’ll hate him. I’ll curse him. I’ll even smile while hating him. Because loving him? That’s a death sentence I can’t afford.
~
I was staring at the yellow-orange horizon stretched out in front of me when—
“Hey, Mackerel!”
He appeared at my side like he always does, loud and unavoidable. “I’ve been looking for you everywhere,” Chuuya grumbled. “It’s almost like you don’t want to be found.”
Before I could reply, he shoved something into my hands. A neatly wrapped bundle of bandages, tied together with a small ribbon.
“I heard today’s your birthday,” he said, eyes flicking away for just a second. “So… yeah. I got you this. Take it as a treat or something.”
I stared at the gift for a moment longer than necessary. Then I looked up at him, genuinely puzzled.
“…Is this normal?” I asked. “Do people usually give gifts to someone just because it’s their birthday?”
He looked back at me for a second, brows knitting together.
“…Have you seriously never celebrated your birthday before?”
“No,” I said easily. Too easily. “Is it really worth celebrating?”
I let out a small, careless laugh. “All it does is remind me I still haven’t managed to die.”
I glanced at him, but his face gave nothing away.
Neither of us spoke. The sun dipped lower, painting the sky in colors too warm for the silence between us.
~
A year later—
Since Chuuya had given me something on my birthday, I figured it was only fair to return the favor.
So, on his birthday, I got him a dog collar.
Because, obviously, he’s my dog.
“What the hell, bro?! Why are you at my house?” he yelled the moment he saw me.
“Oh, come on, Chuuya~” I sang. “I brought you a birthday present. Don’t be maaad~”
I tossed it at him.
“Be grateful to your master, Chuuya~” I added sweetly. “I even came all the way here in my shipping container.”
He caught the collar with one hand.
Oh.
His face was furious. Gloriously, magnificently furious.
This is exactly why I love teasing him so much—he makes the most hilarious expressions every single time.
~
This went on for a few more years.
Somewhere along the way, I realized I was happy. Genuinely so.
Maybe I could stay in this filthy world a little longer than planned.
Just for him.
“Double Black.”
That’s what Mori called us after he put us together—two monsters who erased an organization in a single night. Side by side, we were invincible.
We really do make a good team.
I admire Chuuya—probably more than I should.
He keeps saying he isn’t human. But if someone like him doesn’t count as human, then this world has no right to define the word. Maybe someday, he’ll master Corruption. Maybe someday, it won’t hurt him anymore.
I sat on the edge of a bridge, watching the river below. The water looked soft as it collided with itself, dark blue and unending, carrying everything it touched toward the dying sun.
I stared at the water for a second too long.
Then a hand grabbed my waist and yanked me back.
I turned—and met Chuuya’s gaze. His face was unreadable, but his eyes were burning.
“Chuu—”
“Don’t,” he said. “You’re not jumping. Not while I’m here.”
He didn’t let go. He didn’t look away.
My heart started racing before I could stop it. I broke eye contact, turning my face away as a faint heat crept up my cheeks.
I hoped—desperately—that he hadn’t noticed.
Chuuya had always cared for me.
In ways I never knew how to ask for.
Whenever I hurt myself, he was there—pulling me back, stopping me before I went too far. He’d help me wrap the bandages, hands steady, movements practiced. Then came the lecture. Always the lecture. Angry, worried, painfully sincere.
I never told him how much it meant.
I never told him he was the reason I was still here.
~ (play song: Have I lost my mind ifyw) ~
Back in my shipping container… When I think about all those moments, something inside me breaks a little. I don’t know what I’m feeling anymore—and that terrifies me more than anything else.
I never thought I was gay. Never thought I’d look at him this way.
And even if I am… would Chuuya accept someone like me?
Someone broken. Someone twisted enough to find comfort in the idea of disappearing.
With my fucking mind
They said take the meds and stay off the bottle
Scared to death I don't wake up tomorrow
World in my hands but my feet didn't follow
Have I lost my fucking mind?
I can't tell
If everybody's lying
If they are
They're pretty goddamn good at hiding
“Mackerel?”
I turned to him.
Chuuya didn’t say anything at first. The silence pressed down on me, thick and suffocating, making it hard to breathe. Seconds passed. Maybe longer.
“…Dazai?”
His expression was stricken, almost frightened—like he was looking at something fragile.
He came closer. “Are you okay?”
I didn’t answer. I didn’t even understand the question.
Not until his fingers gently wiped something from my face.
Tears.
I hadn’t even noticed they were there.
Chuuya stayed.
He didn’t ask why.
Didn’t demand answers.
He simply stayed, like that was enough.
God, I wish I could tell him.
But some truths are terrifying—
especially to the ones that matter most.
~ (play song: Space song ifyw) ~
The bridge hadn’t changed.
Same railing. Same wind. Same river below, reflecting the sunset like nothing had ever gone wrong.
“So,” I said lightly, resting my elbows on the rail, “if I jumped from here now, do you think—”
A hand snapped around my wrist.
“Not this time.”
I blinked. “Huh?”
Chuuya’s grip was firm, familiar. Annoyingly grounding. I turned to complain—and froze.
He changed his position.
He wasn’t angry.
He wasn’t panicking.
He was kneeling.
My brain stalled.
“…Wow,” I laughed weakly. “Is this some new intimidation tactic? Because I gotta say, this is creative, even for you—”
“Dazai.”
He said my name like it mattered. Like he needed me to listen.
I stopped talking.
“You chose to stay,” Chuuya said. His voice was steady, but his hands weren’t. “Back then. And every day after that.”
I stared at him. The words registered one by one, slow and clumsy, like they were sinking through water.
Stay.
Choose.
Back then.
“…Chuuya,” I started, confused, “what are you—”
He pulled out a ring.
Oh.
Oh.
The world tilted—not downward this time, but inward.
“You don’t get to disappear on me,” he continued. “Not after everything. Not when I—” He exhaled sharply. “So choose me too. Stay with me. For real.”
My mouth opened.
Nothing came out.
My heart was pounding so loudly it drowned out the river below. All the jokes I’d rehearsed for years—every escape route, every punchline—vanished.
Slowly, terribly, I understood.
“…You’re serious,” I whispered.
Chuuya looked up at me, eyes fierce and scared all at once.
“I always am.”
And just like that, I realized something terrifying.
This wasn’t an ending.
This was someone asking me to live.
The words wouldn’t come. They never did.
Instead, I stepped closer.
I took his hands in mine.
And for once—
I didn’t pull away.
~
The next morning, I woke up on a soft bed, surrounded by a room far too luxurious to be mine.
I stretched lazily as I sat up, eyes scanning my surroundings.
…This definitely wasn’t my shipping container.
Rubbing the sleep from my eyes, something caught my attention. A ring—resting snugly around my finger.
Oh.
Memories from the night before came rushing back all at once. The bridge. The sunset. Chuuya.
I guess I’d fallen asleep while we were watching the sky together.
So… I guess we’re in a relationship now?
The thought felt strange. Heavy. Not unpleasant—just unfamiliar.
I slipped out of bed, took a quick shower, and changed into whatever I could find in the closet. Everything smelled faintly like Chuuya. Expensive soap, clean fabric, something warm and grounding.
…Yeah. This was definitely real.
Just as I opened the door to leave the room, I collided with someone walking in.
“Oof—”
I stumbled backward, balance slipping—
Only to feel a hand slide firmly around my waist, stopping my fall.
Chuuya.
Too close. Way too close.
Our eyes met.
The silence that followed was painfully awkward.
Heat rushed to my face, unmistakable. I wondered if Chuuya felt the same—but I couldn’t bring myself to look closely enough to confirm it.
“S-sorry,” he muttered.
Judging by his voice, he sounded just as embarrassed as I felt.
Later, once things had finally settled, Chuuya spoke up.
“Dazai…” he hesitated. “Can I call you Osamu? I mean—we’re the same age, so—”
“Sure,” I cut in easily. “I don’t mind.”
He froze for half a second. “…No, wait. Listen.”
Then, quieter—almost uncertain—
“Can you move in with me?”
There it was. The way he looked at me gave him away completely. Hope, clear as day, shining in his eyes.
“…Why?” I asked.
He scoffed, like he’d been waiting for that.
“Your shipping container is completely unlivable,” he said. “It smells like a fish market. And—” he looked away, jaw tightening, “—I want to take care of you. Since you clearly can’t do that yourself.”
I stayed quiet for a long moment.
In the end, I gave in.
The change in his expression was immediate—like he was trying (and failing) to hide how happy he was. He insisted on helping me pack right away, rambling about where everything would go, promising he’d help me settle in properly later.
I didn’t stop him.
Maybe this was what staying really meant.
~
That night, at Lupin.
“Ango! Over here—me and Odasaku!” I waved enthusiastically at the man approaching us.
Sakaguchi Ango walked toward our table, black hair neatly combed, glasses perched perfectly on his nose. He was dressed in his usual suit and tie, a suitcase hanging at his side like he’d come straight from work. He adjusted his glasses as he stopped in front of us.
“Odasaku,” he sighed, glancing at the man beside me, “you really shouldn’t let Dazai drink so much.”
Odasaku—dark reddish hair, dressed plainly as always—just looked at him calmly.
“A little alcohol wouldn’t hurt,” Odasaku replied calmly, clearly seeing no issue with it.
“Tomato juice,” Ango told the bartender. “I need to drive.”
Honestly tragic.
When Ango set his bag down beside him, I eyed it curiously. “That bag looks pretty full. What’d you put in there?”
He glanced at it. “Ah, this? I brought a camera today—”
“Ah, ah, ah,” I cut him off, leaning forward, eyes lighting up. “If you brought it, then obviously we have to take pictures!”
After taking a few photos to remember the night—and a toast to the stray dogs—we settled back into our seats.
That’s when I broke the news.
“Oh, you’ll never guess~” I sang.
Odasaku glanced at me, mildly curious. “You look very happy, Dazai. What’s going on?”
Instead of answering, I lifted my hand.
“Ta-da!”
Ango nearly spat out his drink.
“—cough, cough!” He covered his mouth, staring at the ring like it had personally offended him. “I honestly wonder who could possibly put up with you—”
“Nice,” Odasaku said calmly, eyes soft. “Who proposed?”
I smiled.
“My dog’s always been very loyal~”