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The boss of Port Mafia walked up to the top of the building.
Chuuya gently placed bottles of alcohol at his feet before sitting down leisurely next to the railing.
1964 Romanée-Conti wine.
Expensive, but not for someone of Chuuya's status
. He could buy 450 of these bottles to drown away his sorrow if he so wanted.
He lit a cigarette and placed it on his lips. Inhaling and exhaling, he felt a familiar presence to his right. A ring of smoke sifted through the murky air of the night as he pulled the cigarette from his mouth. The summer air was damp and grimy but at least it was quiet.
The headquarters' height provided more than enough space between Chuuya and the loud and bustling city below. Concrete scratched his skin as he rhythmically tapped his nail on the ground.
He turned to face the brunette.
"Report. Today the former raid captain came back to visit Kyouka. It caused a stir, but it was quickly resolved."
Dazai smiled. "Good job, Chibi."
He sounds nothing like how he usually does.
Grabbing the bottle, Chuuya sipped it directly without a cup. It's not like the brunette was much fond of wine anyways, so he need not share.
He continued his report, saying, "The attacking squad immediately reacted to this, but they were defeated. It seems that Atsushi Nakajima would prove to be a threat in the future."
Dazai laughed. He laughed like someone on their deathbed. It was a sharp, raspy, yet soothing sound.
The brunette let his hand tangle with the ginger's as a gust of wind blew at his hair. "Atsushi became stronger."
The ginger watched intently as brown locks billowed in the air. With the way moonlight spilled over Dazai's features, Chuuya could make out the way the other's eyes curled in satisfaction. He seemed proud. Proud that the weretiger was strong.
Chuuya bit the insides of his cheek, unsure of what to say next.
"Dazai..." His voice was weak, even to his own ears.
The brunette hummed in response. "Hm?"
Chuuya swallowed a lump in his throat before continuing. "It's your birthday."
The bandaged boy's expression didn't change. It was common for him to forget. But that's fine since Chuuya was always there to remind him.
Dazai clicked his tongue, "I suppose it is. June 19."
Funny. A non-human who tries unnecessarily hard to be
human
telling a human who is bent on believing that they're
not
that it's their birthday.
Absolutely comical.
Chuuya shifted in his spot before taking another huff of the cigarette. It was a warm night, but it felt comfortable despite the stickiness of sweat slowly condensing on his skin.
Being with his partner on the roof was a monthly routine for him.
It was a nice break from work
, he thought.
Even if it was only for a short while.
Chuuya would bring drinks as they watched the sky together
.
Today, there wasn't much to see. The air was hardly crisp, and the city light snuffed out whatever stars were in the sky.
Dazai broke the silence, "So? What am I supposed to say? Happy birthday to me?"
Chuuya chuckled softly.
Dazai was Dazai after all.
"Happy birthday, Osamu."
He raised the bottle to the sky, but Dazai's eyes never tore their gaze from the ginger. He noticed that Chuuya was in rather bad shape. The boy had red-rimmed eyes and had not even bothered to brush his hair. Dazai observed the orange strands clashing with themselves as they fell on the boy's shoulder. Even so, his tiredness gave him a sort of charm, no matter how messy it was.
"Chuuya should look after himself more."
The ginger blinked in confusion before stiffly turning away. "You idiot."
"As far as I can see, there's only one idiot here. And it's objectively not me."
Dazai said it matter-of-factly. To his surprise, Chuuya said nothing to rebuke him.
It was rare; to see the usual ball of fury be dulled by exhaustion all of a sudden. Dazai thought it might've been Chuuya's way of indulging him since it was his birthday.
The ginger snuffed out the cigarette on the ground and turned around to face Dazai again. Chuuya was wearing that sapphire suit Dazai had gifted him. Dazai had told him it looked good---that it complimented his eyes. At first, Chuuya had said that it was a biased opinion since Dazai had always criticized his fashion taste--saying that it was tacky. They bickered for hours that day.
However, at the end of the argument, it was undeniable that the blue suited him. And it wasn't like Chuuya minded wearing it. It was a nice suit.
Dazai's eyes landed on Chuuya's ungloved hand. He wanted to take that hand and press a kiss to it.
To say sorry. Sorry for everything that has happened between the two of them.
The stillness of the moment was sweet. Chuuya raised the bottle to his mouth to take another swig. The wine's flavor poured over his tongue, as he held it for a bit. The bitter taste coaxed him to swallow.
"I want to hear your voice." The brunette's face became softer. "I want you to keep me company."
It wasn't something Dazai would say. The Demon Prodigy was better at hiding his feelings in his sleeves. It wasn't like Dazai to spell out his wants and desires.
Even when it came to Chuuya
, which he had to learn the hard way.
Chuuya gave him a reassuring hand squeeze, before finally turning towards him, "I'll be here as long as you want."
As long as you want me to be here. As long as you'll allow me to be by your side. It's what I've always done, isn't it?
This provoked Dazai to smirk, "How about I ask you to stay until you become taller?"
Chuuya rolled his eyes before chuckling slightly.
Of course, that's something Dazai would say. That was more like Dazai.
The brunette shifted his position closer to the ginger. Confused by the giggling mood Chuuya was in. It was an unusual reaction---strangely tolerant of someone like Chuuya. Normally, that remark would have earned him a harsher reaction. The ginger would hit Dazai in the shoulder for being a jerk, and Dazai would probably say something about the dog abusing its owner.
"You're unusually calm today." Dazai found himself blurting it out. He reached forward to tuck a strand of hair behind the other's ear.
Chuuya took another sip before replying. "Well, today's an unusual day. My shoulder's sore, and I have this pounding migraine called Dazai-"
The brunette laughed. Chuuya likes hearing him laugh.
"I suppose I placed too much work onto you, huh?"
The ginger shrugged, "I wouldn't mind if you helped out a bit more."
The brunette raised his hand to graze over Chuuya's jaw. The touch was as soft as the gust of wind that blew over them. Subconsciously, Chuuya leaned into the touch.
Dazai whispered. "You're right."
Chuuya looked at the brunette with a broken expression, his mouth twisted into a frown. "No, I'm not. I was never right. After all, I thought you would keep your
promise
."
He was scared to reach out. Dazai only stared at him with a blank expression, letting the boy ramble.
"You promised that--." His breath hitched. "That we were partners."
Chuuya felt a heavy lump rise in his throat.
But you left me
.
He let his head lean on the railing. "You know, I tried to join you. I placed a gun in my mouth. But even when the trigger was pulled, I only found that the bullets were incapable of penetrating skin."
You were my world.
I wanted to die.
His sapphire eyes---eyes that Dazai thought were so captivating all because they were so alive---burned as tears started to form, "I
tried
to die."
He scoffed, "That's funny, don't you think? I used to make fun of you for your dumb suicide mania, and now
I'm
trying to die."
Chuuya's eyes were no longer alive. Every reason they had to shine left, and now they're more dull than a broken lightbulb.
Would Dazai still think them beautiful?
The wind started to pick up.
"Did I do something wrong? Is that why you went?"
He felt as if his message was carried away in the breeze because Dazai didn't respond.
It was painful to watch the brunette fall from the building. Painful to have no power whatsoever to stop him.
It was already too late.
Chuuya spends his days replaying that moment in his head; making up ways to save the already dead. He spends his nights convincing himself that Dazai was still alive and well; that the idiot was just across the hall attempting another suicide that wouldn't work. But it
did
work.
His eyes met Dazai's for a moment as the boy descended. He was in disbelief for a moment. But then a thousand thoughts rushed through his head. Even when his brain tried to come up with solutions, he found, that they all lead to a dead end. He couldn't save him.
Chuuya pressed his gloved hand onto the dark glass as the late boss collided with the ground. He was too scared to look down, afraid that reality would break him. He gripped the paper in his hand so tightly that it started crumbling.
But he had to look---eventually. Once he hit the ground level, he saw the crowd. A sea of strangers murmurs at the death that just occurred. Chuuya solemnly approached. His mouth hung open even as he reached the scene. Crimson ran through the cracks in the pavement as if reaching out to Chuuya. He followed the path that the blood provided. His heart panged, burning as he realized.
The body wasn't even recognizable.
Chuuya reached forward to hold him. He was warm.
Chuuya's vision blurred. Something wet streamed down his face as tears pooled in his azure eyes. I'm crying. Why am I crying? It's only Dazai.
Only Dazai. Fucking Dazai.
He tried to tell himself it was just another one of his stunts. Dazai will come back alive like he always does. He held in his tears. This won't do, he thought, Dazai's going to come back and see this pathetic mess.
Dazai was not coming back. Not after two months pass, and it's Dazai's birthday, but the brunette isn't here to hear the ginger confess his love. Not after the bloody mess at the bottom of the building. Not after a coward stopped Chuuya from taking that bullet. Not after Chuuya found out that the coward was nobody other than himself.
Now since when did he start thinking that? That it was cowardice to stay alive?
Dazai left him a note explaining everything. Chuuya remembered his unsteady hands as he read the note. He read the words "
Dear Chuuya.
" He read the words over and over again until he had the spacings of each letter seared in his memory. "
Dear Chuuya.
" If he was so dear, why did Dazai not cherish him?
Dazai had distinctive handwriting. It wasn't
neat
by any means. But it was distinct. Chuuya also read the words, "
I'm sorry.
"
The ginger roughly snatched the bottle and downed it in one go. His throat burned in complaint, but he didn't care.
"You need to wake up, Chuuya." Dazai's voice felt almost as silent as the wind. In reality, there was no such voice. After all, Osamu Dazai is dead, and he left nothing except painful memories for the unfortunate to remember.
"I can't. You wouldn't be here anymore."
The alcohol filled his system. He choked out the next words as tears started to stream. This was bad. "You wouldn't leave now, would you?"
Chuuya was afraid to touch the brunette. He would disappear if he did. Dazai's bandages were light as if it was being carried by nothing but the gravity of his words.
"Please, don't go."
Now he was being irrational. What was the point of remembering, anyways? He was competing fruitlessly against the wind.
Dazai mouthed the words. "Let me go."
The three words were painful to think about. He sharply turned to see the vision of Dazai flicker out of existence. "No no no--no! No. I'm tired. I'm tired of being alone. Please, don't leave Osamu--!"
His pleas fell on deaf ears.
The ginger left behind all that he had of rationality and ran as Dazai went further and further away. He wanted to catch up, but the brunette continued on without ever stopping. But Dazai was always like that wasn't he? Dazai never had to stop and wait for him to catch up. After all, Chuuya was fine just following him. He was fine with lagging a step behind--as long as it was just a step.
Outstretching his hand, the ginger could almost feel the tip of the brunette's hair. For once in his life, he had yearned for something more. Chuuya wanted Dazai to stop and look back. Chuuya wanted to feel
recognized
.
He wanted to preserve a fading memory.
He was too late. He always was. The Dazai Chuuya once knew was gone. The Dazai he knows isn't going to wait for him. "Fucking bastard..."
However, this time his eyes were dry. His throat was hoarse. He peered at the horizon through the railing. His gaze slowly trailed downwards.
The drop was enough to kill any man who fell, and it killed Chuuya's world.