Chapter Text
This wasn’t supposed to happen. No. This was never his intention. Never in his plan did he think this was going to happen. Of course, he is open to mistakes. But that would make him so believably human. But no. Not this kind of mistake.
He had been so done. So ready to end it all. Atop of the Port Mafia building, which is easier to sneak into then one may think as long as you act like you know what you’re doing and where you’re going. He was ready to end it all. Never had he expected to live past 15. Much less reach the age of 22. He had only made it as long as he had due to the existence of his now ex-partner, Chuuya Nakahara, and a man named Oda which he nicknamed Odasaku.
But then Odasaku had died in the brunette's arms, his last wish being for him to be on the ‘Good Side’ if neither good nor evil made a difference to him. And he didn’t want to. No he really didn’t. But he did. And he regrets to this day, four years after leaving. Chuuya hates him now. He made that very clear the second he had seen him again not too long ago. He actually hates him. He knows that. And he will never be able to live with the fact that the only thing currently keeping him alive doesn’t even want him to be alive. But he deserves it. He knows that. But still..
Taking a deep breath, probably one of his last (he hopes), the tall brunette looks down. It's far. Good. This will definitely work. He’ll finally find the peace he has longed for for as long as he can remember. Even as a kid. But his body refuses to die. If he didn’t already have his ability No Longer Human, he would be convinced he was immortal. He has tried to jump off of countless buildings counting this one, but he was ‘saved’ last time he jumped off of the Mafia’s headquarters by his ex-partner when they were still working together and his current partner and apprentice are always somehow there when he tried to kill himself.
Despite not seeing the reason for it, he had decided to leave some notes for his current coworkers. They’re waiting on the table in his apartment for whenever they finally decide to check in there for him. But he doubts that will be any time soon. He does disappear for long periods of time without warning all the time, afterall. They’re used to this. They realized earlier on into Dazai’s career at the Agency that it’s not worth it to worry as much as they had the first few times.
Maybe I’ll see Oda… he thinks with a smile, allowing himself to take one last look at Yokohama’s skyline, the beautiful sunset illuminating the buildings lining the crater they returned into a city no more than 12 years ago. You will always be my home. You know me more than I know myself. I know you can handle this death as you have with all the thousands of others that stain your streets red.
He is talking to the city. One may find him insane for doing so, but only if they don’t come from Yokohama. Most residents treat the city like a living organism. It can’t be helped.
He can picture Odasaku looking at him, disappointed at him for killing himself and not keeping the promise he had wasted his last breaths to utter, but just seeing the auburn haired man once more will be more than enough for Dazai to be at least somewhat at peace with himself. Even if he spends the rest of eternity in hell, that would be okay. As long as he sees the man who he saw almost as a father one more time.
Then he jumps.
It’s amazing. The feeling of free falling from god knows how many stories above. The place he was raised. The place he will die. The air rushing through your hair, snapping your neck up, but then the pain becomes comforting as the wind cushions your fall slightly as you fall down. It’s all so familiar , so comforting .
From below if one was even watching at that moment they will think it is a bird. Though the brunette would always be close to their first guess. It’s not uncommon for him to try a suicide attempt. Though he hasn’t tried one publicly in quite a while, mostly in the comfort of his excuse of an apartment through overdose, hanging, malnutritionment, dehydration, blood loss, poisoning etc.
Many say your life flashes before your eyes in near death experiences. But not for him. This has happened too often. And there’s not much to remember from his life either way. All he can picture is his ex-partners beautiful ocean blue eyes flashing with pure hatred in his direction. And his apprentice. Atsushi. I apologize for ruining your life as much as I have. I don't wish for you to forgive me, but merely to forget. Which you will learn to do, no doubt. Just like you have done in the past.
Dull chestnut eyes slip shut with the most peaceful, genuine smile on his face one would ever see on him anymore. He used to have one when looking at Chuuya, but he can’t if he hates him.
Finally. Over the howl of wind in his ears, he can hear the sounds of the city getting closer.
It’s almost here.
He’s so close.
He can feel it.
He can imagine it so clearly.
Whether hell or heaven, it doesn’t matter. Whatever he gets he deserves. As long as he is dead, he doesn’t care.
But then, just as he is about to crash against the concrete, death so close, he stops.
“ FUCK!” Nothing can express his absolute anger and irritation . “FUCK, JUST LET ME FUCKING DIE!” Eyes opening, the brunette recognizes the red hue that is above him.
Abilities don’t work on him. He knows that. Everyone knows that. But the ability isn’t touching him. It is holding a big sheet that had caught him and is gently bringing him safely to the ground.
He doesn’t move. He doesn’t get up. He stares directly into the sun, hoping that maybe staring into the big ball of light will bring him death. But no such luck.
“Osamu Dazai, what the fuck do you think you’re doing?!”
No. Not him. Not now. Not ever again. No no no no no!
A short ginger is floating down using his gravity manipulation ability to do so.
Why..? Why must God be so cruel?
He doesn’t react as he is yelled at and scolded. Of course . He can never get what he wants. No matter how small. Just why, though? Why can he never kill himself? That is all he will ever genuinely want.
“Are you even listening to me?!” No. “Dude, why?”
Finally focusing, Dazai sees blue. Beautiful ocean blue. And bright ginger. He will always love that face. The way his face would relax into one of peace when they were younger, doing nothing but sitting in each other's comfort and silence. His beautiful voice that can never be soft due to it being naturally rough.
He didn’t want to see it again. No. He hates him. He said it himself while 100% sober, the hatred and deep loathing in his voice obviously to even a rock.
“ANSWER ME, DAMMIT!”
“Because I need to die.” He doesn’t even recognize his own voice “Please.” He begs, the pure emotion surprising “Please, Chuuya. If there is anything you have said to me the most, it is to leave you alone. Now it’s your turn to leave me alone and let. me. die. ”
His wish is not granted.
“No.” It is firm. The ginger blinks, his eyes shining.
He is regretting allowing me to live. But then wet hits his face. Tears. He’s crying.
“Dammit it, Mackerel. You scared me!” Chuuya hugs Dazai tightly, holding him tighter than he ever has. It’s silent. Dazai has been silent for a while. “Say something. Please?”
“..Chuuya cares..?” The pure confusion twists the ginger's heart tighter than he thought was possible, to the point where it hurts to breathe.
“Of course I do! Why wouldn’t I?!”
“..B-but Chu-Chuuya said he hated me..?” He’s slipping into a childish voice. He sounds so young, so sad, so vulnerable. “Doesn’t Chuuya hate me?!“
He sounds desperate. He is desperate.
“No! Of course not! Why would I?!” running a hand over his face, Chuuya lifts Dazai up into a sitting position. They were being ignored by others who just walk around them on the sidewalk. This is normal. Just another day in the town of Yokohama. “C’mon. Let’s go, ‘Samu.”
“..Can I not die?” Dazai whispers as he is dragged along, not having the energy to do anything. He can barely even talk or keep his eyes open.
“No. No you can’t.”
“Please, Chuuya.” Tears fill his eyes and his hand falls from the ginger's grasp who turns to him, cursing quietly when he sees the tears slide down the others cheek.
“No, Dazai. Let’s go home.”
“I just want to die.” Is his last whisper before falling silent and being gently dragged again. He doesn’t say anything else. Not even hours later, laying in Chuuya’s bed with the ginger holding onto him tightly.
“People care for you, Osamu. Why can’t you see that?”