あなたがどれほどふりをしようとしたとしても、あなたは決して幸せにならないでしう。

" Victims.
Victims of a transitional period of mortality.
That is what we both certainly are. "
- Osamu Dazai (The Setting Sun)

Insp. By: Prelow - "mistakes like this"

Warning!: Frequent course language and possibly suggestive themes (?)

• • • •

Dazai looked down at his hands which rested in his lap. He dug his fingernails into the back of his hand as the minutes passed.
Out of a lingering feeling of anxiety he chose not to look up as women emerged through the metal entrance door. He overheard them going on merrily of trysting and a new perfume fad.

Earlier, Fukkā had invited him to the brothel before business hours for a seemingly important discussion. One that without a doubt pertained to her sister.

After looking back at the clock a few times Dazai repositioned himself in the chair. He caught glimpses of people emerging from the side shutter door with boxes.

Moments later there was a light tap at his shoulder during which he peered up.

Fukkā leaned in, greeting him with a toothy grin as she went to sit across from him.
She wore a conservative top and a pair of black slacks, something disparate from her usual attire. Her eyes bore a tint of red and she wore an exhausted expression which she subtly tried to hide. "Hey, are you alright?"
She pulled herself into the chair, fixing her eyes on a sullen Dazai.

He didn't look at her for that long.
A grim expression crossed his face as his eyes traveled back down. One that any would guess regarded the current situation.
But oh how fallacious they'd be.

She sighed heavily, leaning back in the chair as she crossed her arms.
"Dazai look at me."
Fukkā tilted her head, she appeared a bit irate as Dazai stared intently at the floor.
"I'm not mad at you..." she mumbled. Thereafter a small smile traced her lips.
"I'm moving so I want to straighten things out between us... I wanted to tell you about this before I told anyone else-."

Afterwards her gaze drifted awkwardly into the distance. There was a moment of awkward silence as she looked down at her hands.

"That's a damn lie," he scoffed.

She jerked upwards, an expression of utter disgust chipped at her features. "...What?"

Dazai propped his forearm on the table, a bitter smirk played at his lips as she furrowed at him.

"You're trying to have me believe I actually meant something to you? How can you say that when you're leaving me? And you know damn well you utterly loathe me. It's plain as day -."

Her arm slammed on the table serving as a loud interruption for whatever he was to say.

Dazai pursed his lips as he eyed her bloodied elbow. The gash on her arm most likely numb, as she paid it no heed.

"You're right. I am angry. I'm angry at myself for not knowing any better. But I'm more angry that you'd try to play innocent..."
Dazai studied her as she continued through a display of expressions. She bit her bottom lip harshly, her countenance darkened.
"...If I would've known that would be the last time I ever spoke to her I would've -."

Dazai leaned against the table, his tone laced with mockery as he spoke.
"Me? Playing innocent? Why the hell would I need to be guilty? I haven't done a damn thing. Do, you think you're the only one? Everyone in your shoes wishes they could change something."

"Oh and I bet you're one of them huh?"

"You're damn right I am. But I'm not gonna dwell on it. What happened happened and that's that. Tears and regret aren't gonna change a thing." To Fukkā's horror he showed no remorse for the latter.

"What the hell is wrong with you?! My sister is fucking dead. The fact doesn't change that you could've helped her. And yet you've got the nerve to sit here and spew this bullshit?! "
A smug look crossed her face.
"Ha, oh wait I forgot. You were so fucking out of if you couldn't even help yourself."

"So it's my fault your sister was a damn junkie? What's next you're gonna blame me for whoring yourself around?"

Fukkā's eyes widened.

"You -! How dare you talk like that? You must've forgotten who the hell took care of your mother all those years. That whoring around was so she could get a proper burial. You and your father are full of it. You couldn't come to visit her once but you had the audacity to come to the damn funeral."

"Hmm. There's no one for you to take care of now who are you selling yourself for? You're acting like you had to take care of that woman. Who gave you that responsibility? Huh? Hell, my father could've done it. My sisters, brothers, but did they? No, they didn't.
And you tell me that I should've been more attentive."

Her voice was low, rough as tears cascaded down her cheeks. Fukkā hurriedly closed her mouth before saying another word.
"That woman?! I don't know if it's your guilt talking or what..." She closed her eyes and shook her head as if to dismiss a thought, but soon spoke after doing so. "I see now. I see what's wrong. You've got this victim mentality. You've got it in your head that everyone's against you..."

Dazai clenched his hands under the table biting back his words as he gave a seethed smile.

" 'Victim mentality'? You can't be serious. If you're accusing me just flat out tell me. What the hell are you trying to tell me?"

"Is this really how you're trying to paint me?! You think I'd go through this shit with you for the hell of it?! I'm just trying to-- I moved pass this because we're friends--."

"Excuse me sir." A man of tall stature sternly strutted over towards them. Fukkā's face reddened a bit as he stood between them.

"Fukkā? What happened to your arm?!" His brows creased as he gingerly took her uninjured forearm to raise her from the chair.

"Ōsuto? Ah, n-nothing it was an accident."
The man's light brown hair illuminated under the dull purple lights.
"Still... it could get infected. I finished packing everything so I'll take you to the doctor."

Dazai sat watching them as if he were looking at feral animals behind a wall of thick glass.
He appraised them as they talked amongst themselves.
After seeing Fukkā off to his car in front of the building the man came back.
Ōsuto stood before Dazai to offer a deep, rather peculiar bow.

"Hello, I'm Ōsuto, Fukkā's boyfriend. I'd like to apologize for any miscommunications between you two." Dazai stared back at him, not opening his mouth to speak once. The man took notice and continued on. "She said she wanted to clear some things up but this probably wasn't how she wanted to go about it." He arose with an awkward chuckle as he rubbed the back of his head.

"It's fine, we both said some rather catty things." Dazai said uninterested. "...Do you mind if I ask you something?"

Ōsuto sprung up, a little earnest that he'd even spoken to. "Sure. Go ahead." He said eagerly.

"Has she thought about leaving for a while?"
Dazai kept his head low, his expression unseen under his bangs.
"...Forgive my intrusiveness." He murmured.

"It's alright." He smiled. "You're being nosy 'cause you care about her, right?" He appeared to happy, the happiest Dazai had ever seen a person. So elated you'd think he was dreaming.
Dazai stood there, his eyes transfixed as images of Chuuya smiling so flashed in his mind.
Ōsuto's eyes travelled towards the ceiling, lost in his childlike thoughts.

"We'd planned it for about three months.
We want to do a bit of traveling.
We're going by Australia first. I want to introduce her to my mother." His face flushed as his gaze traveled to the ceiling.

Dazai's physiognomy contorted as he began to process Ōsuto's words. The man, still smiling, went over to rummage behind the counter.
He returned moments later with medium sized towelettes to wipe down the bloodied table.

"If you don't mind me...Though this is none of my business. I'd like to say something. I only know what Fukkā's told me so feel free to correct me."

"...If you feel the need to do so."

"I can see that you're mad at Fukkā. I'm not going to say you shouldn't be angry. But you should reconsider where you place your blame. Most of the time when you're that angry you're actually angry at yourself."

He tossed the messy towelettes into a nearby trash bin and turned around to face Dazai who seemed to linger on his every word. Having noticed this Ōsuto continued.

"If you're stuck on this precedence that you'll always end up being hurt there's no way you can move forward. It becomes unhealthy on both ends. After all love makes one quite credulous, doesn't it?"

• • • •

Dazai tiredly swung open the apartment door. The track squeaked harshly against the floor as the blinding light from the window flooded his sight. He called out Chuuya's name a few times, looking about in a tizzy seeing that his tiny stature hadn't wandered into the doorframe.

As he inched further into the space he found him sleeping haphazardly on the sofa.
His legs were tossed over the headrest while his head hung from the seat, a rather odd sleeping position.
Dazai drew a small smile, squatting beside him to reposition him and the blanket.
He swept his bangs from his forehead, taking in how cherubic he appeared while sleeping.
He twitched a bit before settling back into a comfortable rest. Chuuya rubbed his eyes before fixing his hat.

"Did you just get back?" He asked drowsily.

"Yeah." There was a tiresomeness about Dazai's words that Chuuya quickly picked up on. "Hey something happened? I know Fukkā wanted to talk to you before she left."

"...So she told you."

Without warning he plopped his head into Chuuya's lap. "Dazai?...What's wrong?"

Dazai sighed heavily.
"I did something I shouldn't have."

He smiled a little, reaching out to stroke Dazai's hair. "At least you know."

"I wouldn't have acted like that if I knew it would've been my last time seeing her...
She probably hates me."

"Hmm. I don't think so. She's just a little upset with you right now is all."

Chuuya leaned over to grab his phone, afterwards he scrolled down the screen, grinning as he turned the phone towards Dazai. The glare was almost blinding, to which he adjusted his eyes.
"See. She even texted me to see how you're doing." Dazai sighed to himself, throwing his head back as Chuuya began to read aloud the message.
He said nothing, though continued to gaze out the window after turning around. The rays streamed in, casting an ethereal glow on the coffee table. The environment reminiscent of a still life painting.

"Why'd you guys fight anyway?"

"It's nothing really. Just some rather bothersome events I didn't want to remember."

"Dazai."

"Hmm?"

"...You love me right?"

"Of course I do...What's come over you to say such a thing?"

There was no hesitation in his answer. Chuuya's shoulders relaxed, a bit relieved as he continued to speak.
"You never tell me about yourself. No matter how unsightly it is... I don't care. I just want to know more about you."

"Chuuya. I'm sure that no matter what you learn about me it won't change anything...
For the good or bad."
Dazai's lips crept into a forcible smile. Not wanting to press the issue Chuuya sighed as he got up from the couch.

"Dazai...you're just scared of people leaving you first...You and this notion of wanting to die...is just you not wanting to be left behind... I'm right aren't I."

He turned sharply, leaning over to desperately grasp at Dazai's sleeve. "If that's how it is then you don't have to worry about a thing. I'll never leave you...I'm gonna stay right here."
He let out an exaggerated breath,
then glanced over at Chuuya who stared back at him with furrowed brows.

"Is that all you can do? Sigh? I'm really trying to tell you how I feel here." A defeated chuckle escaped his lips.

He let go of his sleeve as a film of silence fell between them.

"You too Chuuya...Aren't you tired of playing house?"

"Playing house...?"

"You know exactly what I'm talking about. You pretending to care about me out of this sense of guilt. You can't save everybody Chuuya."

Smack!

The sound pierced through the air with a ominous linger.
Chuuya retracted his hand, wincing as he did so, a tingling sensation was left on his palm.
Dazai grit his teeth, closing the distance between him and Chuuya in a matter of seconds. He roughly took his arm, his jaw clenched as he stared back into Chuuya's teary eyes. 

"Sense of guilt?...I'm not trying to be some saint. So you're telling me you only pretended to care about what I thought...You think I'm pretending...I'm trying to help you...
You think I'd go through all of this if I didn't really give a damn?!"

"...Chuuya, come on. You know I didn't mean it like that." Dazai sighed exhaustedly,
flinching as Chuuya shrunk back at his outstretched hand.

"Oh, so then how should I interpret it?! What, while we're at it do you wanna make this a confessional?! You think it's easy loving you?! You know what I had to go through to be here?!"
Chuuya brought his hands to his face, vigorously wiping away the tears that trailed down his reddened face.
Dazai clenched his fists as he continued to sob.
"I'm tired of worrying about you! Everyday...I can't sleep at night wondering if you're gonna walk back through that door or not!"

"...Chuuya." His voice was soft.
It seemed to tremble as it left his lips.

"Don't touch me!"

Ignoring his request Dazai nestled his head on Chuuya's shoulder. He tried to push him back as his hands wrapped around him in a tight embrace. "I hurt you...I'm sorry. I've never really been good with people so it's more so harder for me to express myself."

"I don't want to hear what you have to say.
Let me go."

"...If I do you might not come back."

"Why the hell do you care? You don't care about me. You don't care what I do.
Stop trying to -."

Chuuya dropped to the floor. Dazai still had a grip on his wrists, though it was much gentler than before.

"I love you...I really do. And this isn't some fairytale, okay? We both know that.
We're gonna say and do things the other doesn't like. And furthermore, I know I'll go on my entire life apologizing to you for all the things yet to come...But please no matter what, don't leave me. I couldn't handle you walking away from me."

"You're such a hypocrite Dazai." He choked. "All you talk about is how you don't want to be hurt yet you go and do it onto others...Then you turn around and say things like that...I'm suppose to hate you right now."

"..."

Chuuya sighed and looked down as he pinched the bridge of his nose. Afterwards he looked up to see Dazai wearing a contorted expression.
His eyes fell at the corners, a sulking mien he bore, much to Chuuya's dismay.

"Stop making that face bastard."
He gave him a light shove, chuckling a bit as Dazai reached for his hand.
They sat upon the floor with their fingers intertwined. Dazai rubbed his thumb languidly against Chuuya's fragile hand, thereafter parting his lips to speak.

"We should go on a date."

"A date? Why all of a sudden -?."

"Do you still want to go to the festival?"

"The festival?...It's a month away."

"I know. We could go on some dates in between if you want. I want to."

Chuuya's eyes lit up with a contagious radiance as he eagerly brung Dazai's hand closer to his chest. He flushed, Chuuya's warmth seemed to permeate through his hand.
Lacing every inch of his body.

"Y-You're more excited that I thought you'd be. I didn't think you'd want to see the fireworks that badly?"

"No...it's not really the carnival... It's just that you're planning pretty far ahead... so that makes me really happy..."

Dazai perked up to gingerly cup his hand on the back of Chuuya's head, planting a kiss on his bang ridden forehead. With his free hand he ruffled through his locks, watching as they slowly slipped from his fingers. "Is that so?"

Chuuya continued to smile, a blush overtook his cheeks as he looked into Dazai's eyes.
He spoke with an unwavering sense of resoluteness. "Yes."

"Haha, you're so serious Chuuya."

"I have to be serious with you. You think everything is a joke."

                                      • • • •

A/n: Sorry I hadn't updated in a while you guys! Lmao work is killing me. I had like two alternate versions for this chapter and I couldn't chose 🤦🏾‍♀️ and this chapter is pretty long because there's a bunch of dialogue (tried to make a quality chapter but I feel like I made a bunch of plot holes so I bet it doesn't make sense :((( .) Again sorry for the really late chapter! ✌🏾💕