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[indensity]

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[indensity]

[He's not convinced that it matters. He does know that Dazai wants to know, because he always had to have all the answers. Chuuya hesitates, reaches up to rub at the back of his neck as he tries to get the words out right.]

You finally -- You cared. About someone. And you freaked out.

[He shrugs lightly. He still wants to make it an attack. He still wants to go back to fighting. But something is holding him back, so he simply scuffs a foot against the ground instead.]

Your reason to live was never going to be the mafia, was it?

[By mafia he means anything in the mafia. There was that friend of his, but once he was gone, there was nothing. No one there who was worth anything.]

[theartofdying]

[He's not sure what sort of answer he's expecting, but it's not--it isn't that. He hadn't thought Chuuya would recognize any part of what happened. Of course he'd known that Dazai spent all that time with Oda and Ango. It wasn't that it was common knowledge, exactly, but then Dazai and Chuuya had always had a strange sort of permanent awareness of each other, hadn't they? He hadn't always sought out Chuuya's company--in fairness, neither had Chuuya--but they'd always known where to find each other.

But to put it like that--you finally cared, and you freaked out--combined with his earlier words, I always knew you could care...it leaves some very uncomfortable gaps even as it fills in others.

But that isn't the thing that hits home the most. It's the rest of what Chuuya says, and it's the way Chuuya says it. Quietly. There's no anger in the words, no knives, but it cuts deeper than the rest somehow all the same.

Dazai's quiet for a long moment. There's no more anger in him. It's all gone, all drained out through the wounds this conversation has left, like a body emptied of blood. His own voice is equally quiet when he answers.]

I'm still looking for that reason. But--I'm living.

[Living. Not just waiting to die. Not living to die. Just...living. And it's hard as hell, but he'd made a promise. And if he'd stayed, he wouldn't. Mori would have seen to that, in one way or another.

That should be the end of it. But he can't quite help the rest, either.]

If I had--

[Some small, small part of him wants to ask if Chuuya would have...but no, that's stupid, isn't it? And he knows that he really doesn't actually want that answer. He might not be able to handle that answer. So instead--]

If I had stayed, I wouldn't be.

[indensity]

Okay.

[He's living. That's good. That's all anyone can ask of him. Chuuya's voice has gone even quieter, because it hurts, every word out of Dazai's mouth hurts. He doesn't get it, because no one else has ever been able to hurt him like this, and Dazai does it so effortlessly.

He wants to say that he'd tried to help. That he'd wanted Dazai to stay alive, that's why he'd been so angry, but what's the point. Dazai hadn't noticed then - maybe Chuuya hadn't tried hard enough, hadn't paid enough attention, hadn't been the right person - and it won't help now to have Chuuya point out his own failures, have him humiliate himself. It's not worth it.]

Okay.

[He doesn't know what else to say. Dazai left. They're enemies now. That's how it has to be. There's no changing it, no fixing this, nothing that Dazai wants to fix. He made the right choice for himself, after all.

He's living. That's good.]

If I learn anything about your friend, I'll let you know.

[He pushes out from the wall, turns down the alley, and starts walking without ever lifting his head. He doesn't want Dazai seeing his face.]

[theartofdying]

[Okay, Chuuya says, and it sounds anything but. Okay, he says, and it sounds like goodbye. It sounds like wind rushing through the empty hollow he can feel in the pit of his stomach, it tastes like salt and regret, sits so heavy on his tongue that it feels like lead.

It's not okay. Nothing is okay. None of this is okay, and he doesn't know where it had all gone wrong.

Maybe it's been going wrong for years.

Maybe it's always been wrong.

Maybe he's been wrong.

Chuuya walks away, and Dazai makes no move to stop him, even as it feels like there's something else being taken from him in the process, something he's missed without even realizing. All he can do is watch Chuuya's back, his shoulders, as he moves down the alley. But before he vanishes, Dazai does manage one last thing.]

Chuuya--

[There's something odd about the sound of his voice. Regret, maybe? Sorrow? Guilt? Something weird. Something that doesn't belong there.]

Don't disappear. I know I don't have the right to ask you, but--don't, anyway.

[It's selfish. He has no right to ask, and Chuuya has no control over it, anyway, ultimately. He doesn't even know if he wants an answer. But he asks anyway.]