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Today was shit.
Dazai had gotten to work late like always but it had felt like they had never left home.He had mountains of work to complete but he couldn’t do more than just stare at it like some piece of trash.
Kunikida was nagging at him to do something, do more than just laze at his desk but, they couldn’t even if he wanted to.
it was like his mind was a thousand light years away and his body was struggling to keep up.
He decided that since he wasn’t doing anything, wasn’t contributing to the job, he would just leave for the day so he got up from his desk and left, ignoring Kunikida’s constant attempts to get him to come back and actually do some type of work.
as he walked he couldn’t help but think that maybe everything would be better if they died,maybe he just wasn’t suited for the light, maybe they were better in the darkness, in the port mafia where he was raised to be nothing but an obedient doll set on killing. Was Oda wrong?
before he knew it they were already at his and Chuuya’s shared apartment. Despite being in two different jobs that both hated each other, somehow they were able to move into the same apartment again while keeping their relationship secret, for the most part.
Mori has eyes and ears everywhere.
Nonetheless, he walked up to their apartment and opened the door seeing chuuya’s hat on the rack by the door, either he didn’t have anything to do today or he finally stopped wearing that damned hat.
Probably the first rather the latter.
They hung up their trench coat and headed to their shared room hoping chuuya would be there, though he’d never admit to missing him.
As he opened the door to their room, there he was sitting on the bed reading a book, his hair strewn all over his shoulders.
After looking up from his book and staring at Dazai for more than a second he said,“Your home early, did something happen?” voice laced with concern.
They said nothing as they shook their shoes off and climed into bed latching onto his lover like a koala.
Chuuya put the book down, folding a page to remember his spot, and lightly ran his fingers through the slightly tangled hair of the boy curled up beside him.
“What happened love, you never do this unless you’re feeling low.”His voice was soft and the hand in his hair was even softer.
A silent tear made it’s way down their face and for once, he didn’t stop them coming. Their shoulders shook, and it was like a dam broke soaking Chuuya’s shirt, All the while Chuuya whispered sweet nothings into their ear, rubbing circles along Dazai’s back, holding him close as he sobbed and shook.
They had a strange relationship; Him and Dazai, They hate each other at times, but they were also each others greatest allies.Chuuya had always known him, he read him like no one else could and gave him a space where no one else could see him cry. He was after all, Dazai osamu.
And Dazai osamu never cries.
Because demons aren’t supposed to feel emotion.