Chapter Text
Dazai osamu, awakened to a familiar voice, sharp as gravel and warm as breath.
“Youre awake. Finally."
He smiled into the soft pillow.
“Quit hogging the blankets, Idiot”
He smiled before he had even opened his eyes fully.
“You say that every morning, chibi” dazai murmured, voice thick with sleep.
“What did I say about calling me that? You waste of bandages.” he snapped.
“I can't seem to recall,” dazai smirks. Chuuya rolled his eyes.
“You’d think you’d learn to adapt by now,”
“like hell i’d adapt to this bull shit”
Chuuya's voice was laced with annoyance.
A scoff, fabric shifted around him.
Dazai finally sat up, rubbing his eyes. Morning light spilled through the window, pale and dull, the kind that made everything feel unreal if you stared at it too long. He didn’t question it. He never did.
Chuuya stood by the window, hat low, silhouette cut clean against the pale sky. He looked the same as he always did…unchanged by time, untouched by years. Dazai liked that. He liked things that stayed.
“Youre staring” Chuuya muttered.
“Just admiring your external ugliness”
A snort, and a scoff.
“You’re pathetic.”
Three years, and nothing had changed. The same sounds, the same looks, everything. And he wanted it to stay like this forever.
“You’re going to be late,” Chuuya said, “again.”
“That implies I care,” Dazai chuckled. A small smirk forming on Chuuya's lips.
“You should”
Dazai laughed. light and easy, like nothing in the world had ever touched him wrong. They bickered while getting ready- about missions, about coffee, about nothing at all. The words flowed naturally, rehearsed by repetition, polished smooth by time.
Sometimes, Dazai thought dimly; it felt too smooth.
But he never once lingered on the thought.
On the way out, he paused.
His hands.
Red.
He stared at them, a frown evident on his face. The colour looked, wrong…too dark, too sticky. For a moment, just a moment. His chest tightened, breath catching on something sharp and unfamiliar.
Chuuya suddenly clicked his tongue “you coming or what?”
Dazai blinked, like he'd disconnected from the world completely.
His hands were clean.
“Yeah.” a slight tremor in his voice. He put on his coat one sleeve at a time, deliberate, careful.
"don't rush me”
They stepped into the street together. The city was loud, alive, indifferent.
Somewhere in the distance, sirens screamed, red and blue flashing faintly against glass and steel.
The sound scraped against something inside Dazai’s skull.
Dazai's head throbbed, he lifted a hand to support it.
Just for a second, the world would tilt.
Familiar.
The lights.
A weight pressing down hard on his chest.
He couldn't breathe-
He laughed it off before the feeling settled, forcing the sound out like it was a habit. Like it was normal.
Chuuya whipped around “you ok?” he asked, sharp, with a slight bit of concern.
Dazai straightened, a smile snapping back into place.
“yep,”
“Good. Stop stalling then,” Chuuya turned and continued walking.
Dazai followed, pretending nothing happened.
The day unfolded easily.
Words traded like punches. Laughter threading between insults. Life continues. Normal.
The light grew too bright, the city too loud.
It felt like everything was pressing in on him all at once.
Then it went quiet.
Too quiet.
He stopped, turning his head to look at his reflection in the glass of a storefront.
He jumped, not recognising himself for a second.
The more he looked, the worse it became.
Tired eyes, dark shadows beneath them.
A face worn thin by something unnamed.
Red and blue lights flashed behind him in the reflection. His breath hitched. He spun around.
Nothing.
But the lights were there.
The street carried on like it hadn't even noticed him at all. But when he looked back, they were still there. Blazing in the glass.
His head began to sting again. He rubbed his temple with his thumb, Harder this time.
hoping that would soothe it.
It didn't.
The sound of an ambulance wailing in the distance, once again he spun around.
An ambulance passed, sirens blaring. Red and blue slicing through the street.
He exhaled shakily.
That must’ve been it. He told himself. Just a headache.
It was strange to see two of them on the same day though.
Of course he brushed off the thought, like usual.
Chuuya had stopped a short distance ahead, clearly annoyed with dazai for being so slow.
“Youre taking forever to even take one step.” he huffed.
“Keep up, mackerel.”
Dazai only rolled his eyes at his weak attempt to insult him.
“Maybe,” he replied condescendingly, “you're walking too fast, Shortie.”
Chuuya was displeased immediately .
“I'm not short!”
A pause.
“I'm still growing!”
A bluff obviously.
“Like hell you are.” dazai now grinned wickedly. “Yoink!”
He snatched Chuuya's hat, lifting it high, making sure it was just out of reach.
“Give it back!” Chuuya snapped.
Dazai plopped the hat on his own head “look at me! I'm Chuuya! I'm so angry and I have poor taste in hats!”
Chuuya was fuming with rage, face now flushed red.
“I said give it back!!”
“You look like a tomato, chibi” he said in a sing-song tune.
”But fine, no need to get your knickers in a knot” He chuckled at his own statement and gave the hat back to Chuuya.
Chuuya snatched it immediately, scowling at him.
This gave Dazai a small victorious smirk.
“Hmph”
“Youre so easy to tease” Dazai pokes Chuuya’s side teasingly.
“Ohhh look chibi!” He gestured to a bridge overlooking the city,
Chuuya swiveled his head around to look.
“That bridge would be perfect for-”
Chuuya cuts him off
“No.”
Dazai blinked “Why not?”
“Cause I said no.”
“Aww, you're no fun” he pouted.
“If you're going to die” he said flatly. “ I'll kill you myself”
“Fine.” he sighed “ but i wont like it”
“That's the point,” Chuuya muttered. “idiot”
They both sighed at the same time.
“Let's take today off,” Chuuya said suddenly, staring straight ahead.
Dazai paused. “Allright then…” “It's not like you to skip work though,” he said with suspicion.
No response.
“Allrighty”
Dazai said again, the world landed oddly this time. He glanced at Chuuya.
His hands in his pockets like always. Not looking at Dazai anymore. But looking into the distance. But his gaze was different. unfocused.
“What are you looking at?”
Chuuya once again didn’t respond.
Weird.
Dazai yawns, fatigue crashing down on him all at once.
“Gosh I'm tired” he said rubbing his tried eyes
“Im going home since we're not working,”
Dazai waited for an answer.
It never came.
He hesitated, fingers curling briefly into the fabric of his sleeves. Chuuya still stood there, hands in his pockets, gaze fixed on nothing in particular.
The wind tugged at his coat, lifting the hem-but not his hat. It sat perfectly in place, lifeless.
“Suit yourself,”
Dazai said lightly, forcing a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes.
“Don’t get lost without me.”
Chuuya didn’t respond.
Dazai turned and started walking.
The farther he went, the quieter the street seemed to become, like sound itself was reluctant to follow him. His footsteps echoed too loudly for how empty the road was. He glanced back once, half-expecting Chuuya to be gone.
He wasn’t.
Still standing there. Still watching the distance.
Dazai’s chest tightened.
Stop it, he told himself. You’re tired. That’s all.
He shoved his hands into his pockets and kept moving.
Home felt wrong the moment he stepped inside.
The air was stale, unmoving. The silence pressed in from every corner, thick and heavy, settling over his shoulders like a weight he couldn’t shrug off. He kicked off his shoes and tossed his coat aside, letting it fall where it may.
“Chuuya,” he called out absently. “Try not to break anything while you’re here.”
No snarky reply followed.
Dazai frowned.
He wandered through the apartment, glancing into rooms he already knew were empty. The couch sat untouched. The table was clean. No extra glass left out. No sign of anyone else.
Strange.
He laughed quietly under his breath. “Guess you ditched me.”
The words sounded hollow.
He moved toward the sink, turning on the tap. Water rushed out, loud in the silence. Dazai stared down at his hands as he washed them, watching the water run over his skin.
For a moment, just a moment–
Red bloomed beneath the stream.
His breath caught. He scrubbed harder, nails digging into his palms, heart pounding. The colour swirled down the drain, thinning, fading–
Gone.
Dazai slumped against the counter, breathing hard.
“You’re overthinking,” he muttered to himself.
The room offered no argument.
He shut off the tap and reached for a towel. As he dried his hands, his eyes drifted to the small calendar pinned crookedly on the wall.
Today’s date was circled.
He didn’t remember doing that.
Beneath it, in messy handwriting that didn’t look like his own, was a single word:
Birthday.
Dazai stared at it for a long time.
Then, from somewhere behind him, soft and familiar–
“Don’t tell me you forgot again.”
Dazai froze.
Slowly, he turned.
The apartment was empty.
His smile trembled, but he forced it to stay.
“Yeah,” he said to no one at all.
“Wouldn’t be the first time.”