Work Text:
december 18, 1984
As a child, he lived in a broken household. His parents would fight over him, he was used to it.
They brought him to many, many psychiatrists, and yet, not a single word would escape his lips.
In fear that he would be neglected for how insane he was. If their methods didn’t work, they would hit him, it was always: “next time you better talk” or “i’m doing this because i love you”
june 4 1990
His arms, wrapped in thick bandages and gauze. Dazai, a fifteen year old boy who was on the verge of death. His dad left and his mom was never really there, i mean she was there, only that she would either be screaming at him or drinking. The boy was a complete mess: he wouldn’t eat or sleep, he physically couldn’t, there was a riot in his head, always there…
Smoking and drinking were also normal for him, with such easy access to such things, why wouldn’t he? It was a way to escape.
At night, his thoughts were loud, the urges becoming stronger by the second. he hated his mind. what he wanted, no- what he needed was an eternal and peaceful sleep.
And despite everything, he would always aid others. If no one wanted to listen to you, he would. If you needed comforting, he would.
He would do anything for anyone, even if you hurt him, he refused to leave.
Dazai wanted to be wanted, by someone, by anyone.
To everyone he has ever helped, the boy was their hero.
However, in the end, they would leave, and find someone else. He was always a “maybe”… never a “definitely”. This so-called “hero” was scared: “What if people actually don’t need me?” “I am not needed anymore”? “Do i matter?
And you guessed it, he would still help people. If life was meaningless, might as well… It’s not like his emotions were valid anyway, he was just selfish…
october 6 1990 (present day)
The sound of the crunching leaves beneath his feet, the gusts of wind blowing through his face… the arrival of autumn.
As night fell, dazai was walking, the moon light shining down on him (it’s around one o’clock in the morning). He enjoyed the night, a time that was free of judgment and expectations, a time where he could finally breathe. The weight of the world was gone during these moments. His mother wasn’t aware that he was out this late. Sneaking in and out of the house has always been easy for him, after all he never really followed the rules… Then, the 15 year-old spotted someone… by the edge of a bride. “God, what are they doing?” he said to himself, running towards them.
“Hey !” dazai shouted, trying to get their attention.
The boy turned around, looking confused and disappointed.
“Well, looks like you got me,” the stranger muttered "Chuuya. There, now we aren't strangers. happy?"
The ginger forced on a fake smile
Dazai looked into the others eyes, he could see right through them, they were filled with sadness and fatigue…
The boy continued to study him, that’s when he noticed the cuts on his arms. He could tell that they were from recent activity due to the redness and dried up blood…
He knew exactly what was going on… Before dazai could speak, the now acquaintance asked him: “Hey are you ok?”
Those exact words caught him off guard, how did he know? A thousand questions came to dazai’s mind… still he replied, calmly.
You’re the one to talk… he said mockingly.
I know, whatever, but seriously are you?
Dazai chuckled, oh boy, he is persistent.
i’m fine… and even if i’m not, that wouldn’t matter, you just- y’know…as he spoke he felt a knot form in his throat… Oh god, he was about to cry. He might have looked calm on the outside, but on the inside, he was screaming. He wanted someone to notice his pain. He wanted someone to notice his suffering…
Then, he felt it, a single tear running down his face. This surprised him, he never cried, never. Instead, he would just stare at the ceiling of his room and feel his heart shatter into a million pieces.
This time, he could feel the entire world on his shoulders, he was crying –screaming even.
Chuuya was surprised by this, however, he didn’t waste a single second. He pulled dazai in for a hug, but not the awkward three-second hug, a real hug. The type of hug that spoke volumes. The type of hug that actually meant something.
It’s going to be ok, you’ve probably heard that one too many times… But it really will be, trust me. He said, running his hands through dazai's brown hair. You don’t have to say anything, i know you’re hurt, i know you’re tired… lets just stay here for now, yeah?
Wait, what about you? Are you ok? The boy asked.
Haha, well honestly– no. chuuya joked. but a bit better if you ask me, i mean- you did just save me…
The two sat there in complete silence, the silence was not awkward, it was somehow comforting. The moon had been watching them this whole time, they both closed their eyes. Grateful for this, grateful for each other.
