Work Text:
People might say you deserve better.
But no one would understand.
That you don’t want someone better.
What you want, is Dazai Osamu.
***
The first time you met him, well, it wasn’t love at first sight. Actually, it resembled more of distaste in first meeting. Because really, who the fuck dresses up covered in bandages and shows up like a Cyclopes in a supposedly important meeting? You snorted in disgust. This was the day you’re finally going to be announced as an official member of the Port mafia, so it was normal for you to be annoyed at the sudden appearance of a brown-haired mummy. The boy, seemingly in the same age as you, stood beside Mori, clutching his wood crutches tightly, as if trying to break it apart. His eyes were roaming around, observing the place in a predatory manner; like all details of every single piece of furniture should be added to his memory. He’s weird, and that’s exactly what caught your attention in the first place.
After he’s done analyzing everything that surrounds him, he turned to you slowly. Red-brown irises rose to meet your own innocent ocean blue ones. Your gaze was questioning, oblivious, naïve; yet his was firm and accusing. There was something in his stare you couldn’t quite decipher that drew you in more and more to him, instead of tearing your gaze away as to prove your indifference. But you didn’t get the chance. And in lieu, what you did was open your mouth, ready to ask for the boy’s name—but his eyes already shifted to something else entirely. A fleeting beat of heart, you must say.
Later that day, you brushed past each other again, just as when you and Ane-san were about to go back to the brothel. He was with Mori-san as per usual, and strolling beside him was another child hugging one hell of a creepy doll. You paused to look at him; both of your eyes were as wide as possible, staring at the other’s menacing orbs. The brunet looked dangerous, threatening even, but you couldn’t seem to look away. The world felt as if it stopped right there and then as you gripped your fedora hat tightly, trying not to quiver under his stare. His eyes flickered with slight interest then, before he snickered for a moment, walking back to Mori’s side, completely forgetting the encounter.
You, on the other hand, had sleepless nights thinking of those red-brown eyes looking at your own.
(Years later, you would look back wistfully and wish you were stronger.)
***
The day Mori announced your partnership with Dazai in the team called Double Black was the best yet at the same time, the worst day of your entire life. The best because you finally had an excuse to spend longer time with him even if the intent was masked with creative insults and spite of anger, not to mention—lots of physical injuries involved. The worst because Dazai Osamu was in fact, Dazai Osamu. He’s a fucking waste of space and far more annoying than you actually thought he would be. He loved burning your hat collection, making false accusations so Ane-san would get mad at you and especially, call you out on your height every single time.
In the three years you had known him, you realized there were a few things you hated about him:
You hated how you couldn’t understand any of his quirks.
You hated how everything and everybody looked like a game to him.
You hated how you couldn’t seem to see behind that façade.
You hated how you couldn’t have his trust despite him having yours.
You hated how you couldn’t seem to get close to him, because he wouldn’t let you.
But you didn’t hate him.
Kouyou genuinely smiled at you then, a silent form of congratulations that only the two of you knew after years of staying together. And to other people, it might seem like a normal greeting from a mother to her adoptive child, but you knew her and you saw it—the slight warning hidden behind her eyes which had fooled the same people with sincerity. Asking you to take precautions, telling you that Dazai Osamu was a terrible human—if you could still call him that—and it’s best not to get attached to him. You saw them all too well and you knew it, but your heart had been throbbing in your chest for a while now asking you to act like you did not notice.
Because Ane-san might be wrong even though she had never been so. Maybe, you could melt that iced heart of the Dazai Osamu after all. Maybe it’s you that he needed. Maybe your partnership with him will be the key for him to finally let you get close; you told yourself as your insides screamed at you to pretend to be blind.
So you did.
And as you tore your gaze away to look at the lanky boy, your partner, covered in bandages across you, you can feel his eyes following every moment you had been doing since the beginning. His eyes were on you, silently judging and looking at you with slight disapproval. You tried not to linger on his stare though, but that same gaze had haunted your dreams and now you just didn’t know anymore.
And maybe that was time you thought you’d be with him forever. Maybe not as lovers—because admit it, that’s too far-fetched even for a guy like you—but as partners, who always had each other’s backs. And maybe love in the darkness wasn’t really the most romantic thing in context, but beggars can’t be choosers, right? As long as you can be with Dazai, that much is enough. You can bury your feelings away and maybe, one day and it’s all going to be okay.
But that time, you also wished that even just a little, Dazai Osamu would care.
***
Turned out, you two matched each other perfectly. Turned out, no one was as compatible to him as you. Turned out, you were great partners that can take down an organization of ability users in just a single night. Turned out, he’s really the most annoying person you could ever meet. Turned out, the brunet was all about fake smiles, false cheer and mind full of strategies and hidden agendas. Turned out, there’s still a lot to know about him.
Turned out, day by day, saving Dazai Osamu felt a little surreal in your lips, your mind, and the little sanity you have left.
There had always been darkness inside him, something you failed to realize the first time you met Dazai. He might be annoying, a little too whiny for his own good; but his eyes held nothing but a void he’d been trying to fight against—until he decided it’s all too much and really, why not just let it fully consume him? No matter where he went, there’s always a shadow looming over him, straying his path away from the light.
Not that you’re about to complain, especially when you think it’s for the better. Because when you’re in the Mafia, all hope should vanish the moment you step on the door of hell disguised as the underground of the Yokohama. It wasn’t as if it’s an absurd thing to do for someone like Dazai, more so when he’s the youngest Port Mafia executive in the history. But sometimes, you hope—a little tinge of hope—that there’s still something human inside him.
And you wanted to save him.
So in that certain afternoon in your shared office, you decided to try. Tried to see for yourself if you’re close enough to let him let you in. If a year of partnership was finally enough for you to be called his friend. If you, even a little bit, somehow made him care for a pawn such as yourself. As he read a book in front of you, cross legs and a serious expression on his face and yes, he looked too serious but the title of the book “A Guide to A Successful Suicide” betrayed the justice in his expression, you gathered up all your courage in that tiny body of yours. The room was comfortably silent, until you broke it.
“Osamu.”
It sounded strange to your ears, felt so achingly unfamiliar. His name didn’t fit your tongue at all, much to your dismay. The foreign taste on your lips made you fidget with your fingers in anxiety, as the peace of the room got shattered before your word. There was something in the way you said it which made Dazai stop reading his favorite book, letting it drop curtly on the ground. His eyes widened, but quickly reverted back to its normal bored and empty look.
“First name basis already, are we?” Dazai said in a sing-sang manner. There it is again, his teasing that had fooled you a lot of times already. That deceived you into thinking that it’s okay, he’s still there, he still hadn’t lost it. There was something mocking in his voice that made you want to chuck the chair at him, or perhaps kick his body to create a crater at a nearby wall. But that wouldn’t work; Ane-san will get mad at you again for destroying the Mafia’s property. No, you have to think of something with less casualties but probably more injuries on Dazai.
“Shut up, you bastard.” You hissed. You hid your face on your hands in embarrassment, while he chuckled at how flustered you got just by calling his name. He thought it’s kind of cute, but not good enough to have his heart skip a beat or feel anything at that matter, unlike yours. Your heart was soaring loudly inside you, beating for nothing but his name over and over and over again. He might call you an idiot most of time, but you knew, you knew that you had started to develop feelings for the brunet no matter how distant you two are at times. And this, this undefined feeling was what you call love.
But then he stopped, to your disappointment, because you love his laughter so much that you wanted to hear it going around your ears for a while longer. It’s the only reminder you had left that he’s still capable of human emotions, after all. The silence dragged on for a minute, so you pried your hands away from your eyes, hoping to meet anything but the void in his eyes, growing larger and larger every fraction of second wasted.
And there was danger in Dazai’s voice when he said, “Don’t call me that again, Chuuya.”
You nodded timidly, preventing him to see the tears slowly spilling from your eyes. You only wanted to get close, only wanted to feel as if you’re in the same world as him—but his walls are so much bigger, thicker, his world was far away from yours. And you start to wonder, if from the start, he was only forced because of this partnership. Maybe, you were the only one trapped in a delusion that the two of you could be happy together.
It hurts, but it’s not like you’re new to the feeling.
***
“I’ve always wanted to ask you, why are you so small?”
“Fuck you, you bastard.”
“That’s too suggestive, isn’t it? But I’ll let you know I’m open for suggestions.”
“Fuc—ugh, you’re seriously a pain in the ass.”
“Chuuya! I didn’t know you were that desperate to get laid.”
“Can you just shut up for a minute?!”
“…”
“The minute’s over. Now, can I ask you where do you get those embarrassing hats?”
“What the fuck—“
“You really like saying fuck a lot.”
“Maybe it’s just because I hate you so much.”
“Really? But going back, do you use that disgusting hat to disguise your real height?”
“What? No—“
“I recommend high heels though.”
“…”
“But you’re so short the saleslady will surely have a hard time seeing you.”
“You shit!”
“Oh, I know. Let me carry you on my shoulders. I’m sure you’d like the view here on top—oh hey, Chuuya! So violent~!”
“I swear I’d kill you one of these days.”
“…”
“I’m betting you won’t, though.”
“And how are you so sure, you extra stuff that comes with bandages?!”
“Because you like me, right?”
You turned away, an indication that as always, he was right—but Dazai never said he likes you back.
***
“I’m leaving the Mafia.”
You untangled his limbs from yours, feeling the softness of his exposed skin brushing against your arms. It had been months since you started this and maybe it was a good way to…let off steam. Well, honestly, you couldn’t care less to think what was this all about especially when you had Dazai in your arms and could cuddle with him all night. It didn’t really matter that he had seen you only as someone to fuck with and not what you deserved to be treated. Really. it didn’t matter as long as it’s you who had him. That it was you he said I love you to, and whether it was a lie or not is something you didn’t want to know.
Dazai didn’t move an inch, while you distanced yourself, agape. The cold breeze had done nothing to ease the thundering nerves rummaging through your body. His silence didn’t help too. You were facing his lean back at that time, and silently prayed that Dazai was as hurt, as betrayed, as you were. That his eyes held some sadness—and not the usual hollowness they seemed to get inclined to. The room was dim, and so were your eyes.
“What?” You asked.
You heard him, but you’re wishing you heard him wrong.
“I said I’m leaving.” He turned his back to face you. You couldn’t see anything besides the bored look on his eyes, and it stung a lot more than you would like to admit.
Dazai was leaving.
He’s going to leave you behind.
Suddenly, your whole body was trembling. Words sinking in the pit of your mind like flowing water in the middle of June. Your fingers clawed your palm, hard enough to draw blood from your porcelain skin. You were biting your lips a little too much too, as crimson red started to tint the white sheet of your bed Dazai loved to crawl into—in cold nights and sometimes, for entirely a different reason.
Then, with a whisper, “Take me with you, Dazai.” You buried your face on his chest, wrapping your arms around him in a soothing manner. He didn’t relax at your touch, instead, pushed you away softly.
“You know I can’t do that?”
“Why not?”
“Mafia is your home. You’d only suffer when you’re with me.”
I’ve always been suffering because of you went unheard.
You shook your head, and there was it again, the defiance in your eyes. No way in hell will you let him go just like that. He wasn’t allowed to make you fall in love with him only to walk away so easily. You won’t let him leave you behind, not when you still haven’t saved him just like you swore the moment you harbored feelings for the brunet. You’re going with him, and that’s final.
“Don’t even think about it.” He whispered to you ears, softly nibbling your earlobe after.
You retaliated by drawing nonsensical patters on his back, writing promises into the other’s skin. For a moment, it all looked too passionate, as if you were lovers under the light of the moon in the cursed city of Yokohama. But you were not. You were criminals, who had discarded piles of bodies behind your back. And you wonder if one day, you’d be a corpse too, if ever Dazai leaves your side. Probably. After all, a person like you had long accepted the lie in what everyone called as happy endings.
You tried not to dwell in the thought, meeting his lips in a slow yet burning rhythm. Your hands moved to his hair, tugging it tenderly as you drown your fingers in his brown locks. He bit your lips, swirling his tongue inside your mouth. His free hand cupped your cheeks, holding you in place before he moved to trail soft kisses on your neck. A soft moan escaped your lips.
He bit the part where your shoulders meet your neck next, enjoying the sight of you tipping your head back to give him more access. An act of submission, he must say. And if there’s one thing you noticed about Dazai Osamu, it’s that he like marking you every chance he gets. Burying his teeth on your flesh, only to elicit a groan of pleasure.
A painful reminder that you’re his—but he will never be yours.
You broke away from him, staring deeply into his red-brown eyes.
“You’re my home, Dazai. I’ll betray the Mafia if it means being by your side.”
You didn’t like the sound of being a traitor to the place who you once called a home, but what else can you do? After all, you were in love. And for the meantime, you’d let this feeling win against you. Even if it means losing yourself, just to have Dazai.
“You’re my everything.” You choked out. “Am I not yours?”
He didn’t reply.
***
But of course, Dazai Osamu was a bastard—and he left the exact day you were ordered to deal with some rats in the west. He didn’t even say goodbye, and the only thing you can hold onto now is the remnants of your car he had bombed before betraying the organization you grew up into, the place where you met your first love.
And if he’s only going to disappear, why did he have to take your heart too?
***
He loved you.
He cared for you.
He’s going to come back to fulfill his promise.
Maybe it’s for the best. Maybe you weren’t even meant to be to begin with. Just two people who were meant to cross paths and never again. Maybe it was a mistake looking back at each other the first time you met. Yes, meeting Dazai was a mistake and yes, wanting him was a mistake and yes, loving him was the worst mistake you had ever done—but also yes, losing him, well, that was the hardest thing to accept.
Maybe it’s just not meant to be. Maybe there was Dazai, and there’s you; but never Soukoku. Maybe you could only say it was fun while it lasted and maybe, just maybe, you’d move on if you learn to act like his betrayal wasn’t slowly eating you inside.
Sometimes you wish you could do it so easily.
Walking away, that is.
You don’t love him anymore.
You still do.
And out of all the lies he said,
His I love you, Chuuya, was your favorite.
***
You had a nightmare last night, Dazai left you behind.
And you woke up, only to realize it wasn’t a dream.
It was a memory.
***
The next time you met, well, it wasn’t what you thought it would be—and you didn’t even think you’d meet again. It was just a slip from Higuchi, just words that a certain traitor was at the basement of the Mafia, chained and somehow beaten up by his former apprentice, which took you rushing towards said basement in fury, or maybe excitement in your chest. Your heart was thumping loudly inside you, a face of someone you used to know so much flashed before your eyes. The floor was shaking beneath your steps, and just a few seconds later, you’re face to face with Dazai osamu.
There was still that annoying his smirk of his.
“Now you’re just a lonely prisoner here, huh?”
He seemed unaffected. (And how dare him, when inside you, you had been and still is affected by him in more ways than one?) You clenched your fists in anger, in pain. Flashbacks of nights you spent crying, silently begging for him to come back to you slipped into your mind—and then the ground was shaking again. Dazai looked at you with the same bored eyes, as if you two didn’t have some kind of past. As if he didn’t toy with you all he wanted back then. As if you didn’t get left behind.
In the end, you challenged him into a fight. You were better, of course, his hand to hand combat had always been below average for the Port Mafia. You almost killed him, but somewhere deep in your heart you knew that no matter what, you couldn’t bring yourself to push that dagger into his throat. (Well, you had pushed other things on his throat before though) And the next thing you knew was that he made a fool of you again—and also the fact that his main reason was to find who put the bounty on the man-tiger’s head. You tried not to think if he would do it for you, if you were in Atsushi’s place, grimacing at all of his witty remarks.
“I just haven’t seen you in a long time, that’s all.” His smile was genuine, but perhaps, fake.
You huffed in annoyance, promising to kill him the next time you see him. But in that moment, all you wanted was to close the distance between you and him. To feel his lips moving around yours. To see if they still fit so perfectly just like they used to. You wanted to cup his cheek, caress his hair, whisper I miss you and I hate you at the same. But you couldn’t. You wouldn’t.
The smile was still there, looking at you with the same sincerity you had seen when he whispered all those promises. Your heart throbbed painfully, something aching bloomed inside your chest. Was he finally saying the truth?
And no, Chuuya, you’re not going to fall for that again.
You still did though.
***
In the agency, he seemed so much warmer.
In the agency, he looked better.
In the agency, he was in the side that saves people.
In the agency, he was provided with a home.
In the agency, his coat didn’t reek of blood.
In the agency, he wasn’t tramping on dead bodies.
In the agency, instead of anguish cries begging for him to spare their lives, he heard Kunikida’s nagging.
In the agency, his subordinate wasn’t a coughing child who had huge superior issues.
In the agency, he had friends better than the people he used to know.
In the agency, he had a new partner.
In the agency, his life was better.
In the agency, he was happier than he ever was at the Port Mafia.
Because in the agency, you weren’t there.
***
“The enemy has been annihilated. Rest now, Chuuya.”
You fell into your knees, pupils dilated as you slip back to consciousness. Your whole body feels so heavy, so tired, yet so numb. There’s blood painting your face, your lips, dripping down your blue eyes. Your palm supported you from meeting the ground face-first, and thankfully, you still have a little energy left to spare to spite Dazai. “You bastard, why didn’t you stop me the moment it was over?” With a hoarse voice, you whispered.
And of course, he said he thought it to be funny and somehow, you knew it was going to be his response. It had been years, but the pain still felt the same. Never, never going away.
“I trusted you, I used corruption.” Tears threatened to escape your eyes, rendering Dazai unable to speak for a moment. He tried to reach out to you, but his hand stopped midway, retreating it back to slump at his side. You were disappointed, but tried not to acknowledge the sudden pain lingering on your veins.
“Didn’t I even matter to you? Even just a tiny bit?” You laughed a little. Of course, you didn’t. Who are you to begin with? After all, you were nothing but a broken toy he left behind when he figured he’s finally bored. Just a pawn in the sea of million chess pieces he found entertaining. Just someone who loved him so much, and still does no matter how much pain he had caused you.
“Chuuya.”
Dazai fidgeted with his fingers, an unfamiliar sight you thought you’d never see.
“You know I had to leave you.”
“Fuck you, Dazai.” You screamed with the little amount of voice you had left. “Don’t act as if leaving me behind hurt you when it didn’t.” Bitterly, you added, voice breaking at every word.
There were tears forming on Dazai’s eyes and for a moment, you considered believing his words were genuine; but you remembered, it was Dazai Osamu you were talking about, he didn’t know anything except to lie. He’s not capable of love, you tell yourself. He had hurt you once, and that’s enough.
“Chuuya, if you love me, let me go.” He whispered, just barely inaudible. “Please forget me.”
And that’s the last thing you heard from him before slipping to a deep slumber.
When you woke up, the entire area had been cleared. It was already morning, the trace of last night was still evident on the way the trees almost didn’t look like trees at all. Your body still felt heavy, still painful, but that didn’t stop you from trying to get back on your own. At least, you felt better than you were the last time you’re awake. The memories from the alliance, the revival of double black, your outburst, up to Dazai’s last plead came back to your mind, hurting your head in the process.
Your clothes were neatly folded behind you, hat placed atop. Your face was also wiped clean of blood, but not tears. Because at that moment, you realized you were crying. The pain in your heart refused to go away.
Dazai left you behind, again.
***
People might say that you deserve better.
But no one will understand.
That you don’t want someone better.
What you want, is Dazai Osamu.
And he doesn’t want you back.
This time, you promised to never look back.