Chapter Text
BEEP. BEEP. BEEP. BEEP.
Dazai’s ringtone blared through his apartment, waking him reluctantly. He felt around under his pillow to look for it with a groan.
There was no fucking way it was morning already.
“Oh my god– turn it off, Dazai,” groaned a voice next to him.
He noticed the warmth of the body beside him, small and soft.
Oh, right. Yuan waited up for him, but that didn’t answer the question of how or when he got home last night.
“‘Mm trying…” Dazai spoke groggily as he found his phone, not checking the caller ID before picking up.
“...Hello?” he mumbled.
The voice of one of his coworkers came through the phone, “Oh, good. Sorry if I woke you; it’s Daichi. Can I trade shifts with you for today? You would close on Wednesday instead.”
Dazai hummed sleepily. The remnants of his high from the night before still hung heavily in his skull, like a thick fog. Actually, he hadn’t quite registered that he was even awake.
“Yeah… mm.. That’s fine– so I’ve got the day off then?” Dazai murmured.
Daichi laughed on the other line, “Yeah, until Wednesday.”
“Oh thank fuck– I’m going back to sleep,” Dazai’s voice muffled as he stuck his face in his pillow.
His coworker hummed, “Alright dude, have a good one. Thanks for letting me switch.”
“Yeah,, g’night..” Dazai mumbled as he hung up.
Nice– he probably would have called out sick, anyways. He had no fucking clue how he got home, but he’d gathered that, at least, he’d been dropped off.
“Yuan…?” He rasped. As he came to, he began to realize that he didn’t have much of a hangover, but his mind was clouded by confusion. That, and his nose felt a bit stuffy, like allergies or a cold.
“Yeah?” She chuckled tiredly.
The apartment around him appeared blurry as he cracked his eyes open. He had changed into pajamas, and clearly taken out his contacts the night before– so he must have at least been conscious by the time he got home. Yuan looked tired, dressed in a pair of pink pajamas that matched her messy hair.
Fuck— he didn’t remember a thing; which was far more disorienting than he’d expected.
“When did I get home?”
“Oh wow,” she laughed as she sat up. The motion caused Mango to stir at the foot of the bed, and she walked tiredly between the two before settling next to Dazai’s head.
“You don’t remember much, do ya?” The pink haired girl yawned.
Dazai grunted, “…literally nothing. Like—“ he sniffed, “nothing“
He rested his hand on Mango’s nape, gently scratching behind her ears, “and goodmorning Go-go~”
Mango nuzzled into Dazai’s shoulder sweetly.
“Well—“ Yuan began as she rolled of the tiny bed, “Your sugar daddy helped you get through the door around 3am, and then you guys made out as a goodbye kiss— which was graphic.” Yuan ruffled her hair and straightened her pajamas, “And then Chuuya introduced himself, and then he introduced you, which was funny. Also— you were fucked, like… after Chuuya left you started talking about tiny straws? And how apparently you aren’t supposed to drink from them? It was hilarious.”
“UUUGHHHH….” Dazai groaned, “…I don’t think I’ve ever been that fucked up…”
“That checks out…“ she hummed, “and I’ll fill you in more later, but I need to go home and get ready for work, so…”
Dazai’s consciousness faded quickly once more, after Yuan explained that she needed to get ready for work herself and left.
He stayed in bed until around 10am, by which point he needed a cigarette, and Mango needed to be fed and walked. He didn’t exactly like having his friends pet sit for him, but their mutual separation anxiety required it.
It was nice to get outside, at least, and Mango was always excited to tour the sidewalks near Yokohama Central Park.
Surprisingly, he really didn’t feel all that bad, albeit a bit down. Granted, his mentality was a bit negative in general, but today was just a bit… harder?
He couldn’t pin point exactly why, just that he would rather die than do anything other than lay in bed for the rest of the day.
The familiar feeling of dissatisfaction in his chest was almost comforting, though. His random bouts of sadness were something he could find a sort of solace in, like a constant in an ever-changing timeline.
He noticed just how messy his apartment was when he returned home, but he didn’t bother to clean it. Not today, at least.
The day-off was a blessing, as he could justify finishing his walk with a warm shower and a clean set of pajamas. He wrapped himself in a softer gauze than usual, too. Luckily, the shower cleared out his sinuses a bit as well. He sulked out of his bathroom as he dried his hair, taking in last night’s aftermath.
His clothes had been cast to the floor, which was a fucking crime when he considered how much they cost.
His nightstand had a couple of small boxes on it, both with logos of marijuana leaves—
Oh hell yeah.
He’d forgotten that Chuuya bought him a dab pen, which meant he could get high whenever he fucking pleased. Wonderful.
He pushed his glasses aside slightly to rub his eye as he scanned the room again— until he froze.
There was a little baggie on his kitchen countertop, just sitting there. It wasn’t a ton, but there was definitely some white powder in it. That would have been odd in itself… except there was no fucking way Chuuya bought him that.
“Oh what the fuck.” Dazai spoke to himself. Memory loss was a funny thing, really, because how on earth he managed to come home with a bag of cocaine was fucking beyond him.
He knew he was a bit of a pickpocket sometimes, but Jesus, sometimes even he was shocked by his own actions.
Obviously, he knew why his wasted self would have stolen it; even now he missed the rush it gave him. But still… stealing coke from god knows who would definitely go down as one of his dumber decisions.
Oh, he did not want to think about that. That was fucking stupid.
His eyes shifted again to the packages on his nightstand. Mango stared at him quizzically from her dog bed, so Dazai opted to ask her opinion, “…should I get high. Yes or no?”
Mango didn’t answer, obviously, but she did wag her tail a bit at the attention.
“I’ll take that as a yes. Thank you Go-go~” he hummed. Frankly, there was no reason why he shouldn’t smoke a little; he had literally nothing else to do. Plus, he had been meaning to keep watching Love Wagon, and now he finally had the time.
He sat down on his bed and opened the boxes, one being a cartridge, and one the battery. It almost looked like a juul: small and discreet. The cartridge slid in easily, and Dazai was happy to see a little white light greet him at its base.
He slid the pen between his lips, pulling from it tentatively. Despite being fond of the taste, he coughed a bit on the exhale. A few hits was enough to get him about as high as he wanted to be, so he relaxed back onto his bed after it had begun to settle into his skull.
Weed helped his mentality a lot, to the point where it nearly concerned him.
Emphasis on nearly— he’d actually done a bit of research on medical marijuana on break at work the other day, and the positive mental health effects seemed pretty promising.
Plus, it was supposed to reduce physical pain and stress too. With the schedule he worked and how poorly he took care of himself, that was certainly welcomed.
He opened his laptop to netflix, smiling slightly as the high set in. He didn’t really get what was happening in the show he was watching, but it entertained him nonetheless.
His phone rang after a while: a FaceTime from Chuuya. His screen lit up with the image of Chuuya’s eyes and forehead, which made him chuckle as he picked up.
“Hello~” Dazai hummed.
Chuuya grunted, “Hi. How are you.”
“Oh!” Dazai chuckled, “someone’s in a shitty mood.”
“I’m hungover— …wait-- are you not?!” Chuuya’s brows furrowed. Honestly, he didn’t look great; he was obviously still in bed, despite it being around 2pm at that point.
“Not really… I might be catching a cold though; my nose is kinda uhhh… like— fuck, what’s the word— stuffy,” Dazai laughed, “I didn’t drink that much though.”
Chuuya didn’t answer for a moment, staring at the screen. His eyes narrowed slightly, “I— Dazai… are you high?”
The younger tried not to laugh, but he couldn’t keep it in. God, was it that obvious?! He kind of thought he was getting good at hiding it.
“…maybe~” he chuckled, “someone took my shift and I kinda wanted to like— die. So I figured I’d try out the doo-dad you gave me.”
Chuuya chuckled a bit as he turned on his side, clearly reaching into his nightstand drawer, “Yeah? Good for you… And how is it, baby?”
Chuuya’s tone always got a tad gentler whenever Dazai was stoned, and fuck, he loved it. Craved it, even.
“Mm… it’s good; I feel good,” Dazai nodded.
Chuuya sniffed a bit with a hum, “good; I’ll join you. That actually sounds great right now.”
Oh, Chuuya kinda sounded like a he had a cold too.
“Damn, is it like… allergy season or something?” Dazai tilted his head.
Chuuya chuckled as he put his own dab pen to his lips, "No, you just had some coke up your nose last night, darling. That happens.”
Right. That made sense.
“Oh yeah..” Dazai laughed, “that was fun. Like— we should do that again sometime…”
Chuuya blew out a cloud of smoke, which was, as always, sexy.
“Not too often, baby,” he smiled, “but I fully plan on going on a bender in Vegas, and I fully plan on taking you with me. We’ll be doing more than just blow… Well— don’t get me wrong, it’s a personal favorite, but you would really like psychedelics, I think.”
Honestly, Chuuya was probably right about that.
“Ooooh. Sounds fun,” Dazai laughed, “I’ll talk to my professors after class tomorrow about that..”
“Mm. Good~” Chuuya hummed, “well I called to ask if you were hungover, and while I’m glad you aren’t, I’m jealous as shit.”
“That’s fair— I mean, you’re older though…” Dazai chuckled. He layed back on his bed, snuggling into the sheets with a pleasant hum. He liked the way weed made his body feel as though it were melting— how everything was amplified so nicely.
His bed had never felt so warm and comfortable, nor his body so relaxed.
“Yeah, usually it’s not so bad, like—“ Chuuya had been taking hit after hit, speaking as he blew them out, “I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but I do a fair amount of drugs.”
“I gathered that,” Dazai smiled, “…actually, speaking of drugs… do you happen to know where I got the bag of coke on my counter? Because uh… there’s a bag of coke on my counter.”
Chuuya’s eyebrows raised, “…I... have no fucking clue .”
They both laughed at that as Dazai replied, “ Lovely, What do I do with it then?”
“Well uh—“ Chuuya laughed, “don’t snort it because like— fuck, okay. Hang on, I’m high. Uhhhh…”
Chuuya paused to gather his thoughts as his own high hit him, his grin growing lazier, “don’t snort it, at some point if you want to we can take it together, but I have these uhh… test kit things? I dunno where you got it; I just wanna make sure it’s actually, ya know, coke.”
“Ooo fancy~” Dazai replied, “m’kay, that sounds good…”
“Yeah?” Chuuya hummed, “well good, just tell me when you feel like it. I’m always up for it…”
“Mm, okay! Maybe sometime next w—“
Knock, knock knock!
Shit, there was someone at the door.
“Ugh… someone’s here, can I call you back?” Dazai grumbled, upset that he had to get up. He said his goodbyes quickly and hung up, as Mango had begun to bark at the door.
“Shh shh shh… no barks, go-go..” He said as he picked her up. He was pretty high, at this point, and really didn’t think to check the peephole to see who it was.
He wished he did.
He opened the door halfway, freezing as he saw the grim face staring back at him.
Oda.
His heart pounded in conflict.
He hadn’t seen him since June, when he had visited home for his birthday. Dazai had just broken up with Ayato, so he had made some last-minute plans to spend it with Oda and Elise.
He wasn’t doing well then, at all.
That was also before he started smoking cigarettes… again. Ayato had made him quit; he said he didn’t like the smell.
That was probably a good thing, but once they broke up, Dazai saw no reason to fight the addiction anymore. He didn’t mind it, and to be fair, the smell of cigarettes was nostalgic. His father smoked them too, when he was still around.
He knew Oda could smell the aroma of smoke on his clothes— he could never really wash it all the way out. Oda’s eyes, blue and deep, looked into his as soon as he opened the door.
He knew his eyes were bloodshot. He knew he looked like a mess, more of a mess than he really was, at the least.
“ Odasaku—“
He set Mango down gently, before hugging Oda tightly. Oda hugged him back with just as much force.
“…Hey, Osamu..”
The voice that greeted him wasn’t normal for Odasaku— he sounded scared . There was this subtle shake at the back of his throat, one that rumbled in Dazai’s ears.
He needed to see him, he had been wanting Oda to come visit. Fuck, he missed him so badly …
But he was high , and his place was a mess , and it just…
I t wasn’t a good time .
Dazai hugged him even tighter, before pulling away gently.
“What are you… I mean— I haven’t seen you in so long , I missed you, I—“ Dazai’s brows furrowed in confusion. What was he doing here? Oda hadn’t come all the way to Yokohama since he helped Dazai move.
Dazai had invited him, of course. They butted heads sometimes, sure, but h e loved Oda completely unconditionally; he was always welcome. He was always wanted.
“You didn’t tell me you were coming, I— sorry, the place is a mess, but—“
Oda cut him off, “I did tell you I was coming…”
… What?
He opened the door all the way to let him inside, being careful not to let Mango out. Oda crouched by Mango wordlessly as Dazai shut the door, peering around as he pet her.
Mango, not sensing the tension, was clearly excited to see him. She always liked Oda, and her tail wagged happily as Oda stroked her back.
Dazai broke the pause, “Oh… sorry I haven’t checked my uh…”
Fuck, what was the word?!
Dazai's anxiety grew rapidly. If there was one person that he didn't want to see him stoned, it was probably Oda.
His thoughts were a mess, so loud and yet so blank.
Oh god fucking damn it FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK—
“Your texts..?” Oda sighed as he stood, his eyebrows twisted, “you’re acting… odd. Are you drunk or something?”
Dazai’s stress spiked even further. Shit. He wasn’t good at hiding this, and frankly, he was still processing the fact that this was real .
“No, I’m not— just. Do you want a cup of coffee or something? The pot is still warm… And we can uhh… talk on the couch.. or something…” Dazai’s voice got a bit quieter.
“Yeah, sure, I’ll take some coffee,” Oda sighed and rubbed his face with his hand, gently scratching the stubble on his chin.
Silence fell again as Dazai nodded, and turned to make Odasaku a cup of coffee. Oda sat on the couch, which was more of a loveseat, really, watching from behind.
Dazai needed to focus hard to get a mug from the cabinet, and even harder to grab the coffee pot and begin pouring. His mind reeled. Oda was never this quiet. God, was this even happening?!
Steam rose from the mug as dark black coffee spilled into it, the sound of it filling the room.
“We talked on the phone last night.”
Oda broke the silence.
Maybe it was because of the weed that it startled Dazai, or maybe it was that Oda just brought something up that he didn’t remember, but it made Dazai jolt.
Coffee spilled onto his wrist, making soaked bandages steam with heat.
“Ohfuck—“ Dazai cursed. He couldn’t feel much on his wrist or the back of his hand due to the scarring, but the drip of liquid down his fingertips scalded slightly,
“Oh yeah! Haha.. I remember that… uh..” He lied.
Oda stood up quickly, rushing over. When Dazai was younger, Oda dealt with this a lot. After all, it was difficult for a nine-year-old to grasp how the pain of his surgeries evaporated into numbness .
He couldn’t feel when he got a cut or scrape, nor when he was burned. He could feel pressure, maybe a bit of warm or cold, maybe the tingle of scalding skin… but nothing more.
As a kid, it was frustrating to get used to. Of the five senses, a child version of him figured he could imagine what it would be like to live without each.
He didn’t think about touch much, what it would be like to not sense when he was injured— or how desperate he would be to feel again.
It just... wasn't all that common. Even his doctors were surprised when his numbness lingered.
Oda remembered how Dazai had reacted to it, how he would hit himself after the wounds healed, asking over and over and over again when the sensation in his once-undamaged skin would return.
It never did.
“Did you burn yourself?” Oda asked quickly, as he grabbed Dazai’s bandaged wrist.
Dazai’s eyebrows furrowed, “I… I dunno.”
Oda flinched as he poked the soaking gauze, startled by the heat of it. He wasted no time in pulling Dazai’s arm to the sink, removing the bandages from his hand and wrist, and turning on the cold water.
The skin beneath looked irritated, but not badly, and the coolness of the water on his palm soothed him a little.
Dazai exhaled, watching the water form clear streams down his hand, before dripping into the metal sink. He stared, in awe slightly of how it shimmered in the light from the window.
He didn’t notice Odasaku examining him, watching him be mesmerized by something so simple.
“…I can tell you aren’t sober, Osamu… you’re not fooling anyone.”
There was more sadness in his voice than frustration, but the frustration was there.
“I…” Dazai cringed, laughing awkwardly as he shook off his hand, “ Okay , fine. Yeah, I’m like… listen, I can explain—“
“Oh I would love to hear you try to explain why you’re on something on a Sunday afternoon.”
Oh. Oh fuck.
Oda sighed as he let go of Dazai’s arm. His eyes fell to the ashtray on the windowsill in front of them, and he grimaced. He was carfel with what he said, taking more pauses and time to think between questions,
“…how many cigs are you up to now..? Like… a day?”
Dazai thought for a moment. He hadn’t bothered to empty his ashtray the morning, and now that he thought about it, he had been progressively smoking more.
“I dunno, it depends..” Dazai exhaled as he crossed his arms,”I go through like… four or five packs a week, I think.”
Oda’s tone remained grim and matter-of-fact, “it used to be two.”
A dry chuckle left Dazai’s throat, “Yeah. Shit happens like that.”
He’d been avoiding eye contact this whole time, but he met Oda’s eyes once again.
Odasaku had a way of being patient with Dazai, in a way nobody else could be. After all, Oda knew Dazai, better than anyone. Sure, Atsushi and Yuan knew him well, they knew what happened to him— but Oda was there for it all.
Oda was there for every hospital stay, every recovery period, every breakdown, and every visit to his parents’ graves. He was there for every battle, every loss, and every victory.
He understood what Dazai was like, maybe a little too well.
“It does… uh…” Oda tried to find the right words, “Be honest, are you like— high right now?”
There wasn’t any use in hiding it, not anymore, so Dazai just nodded a little.
Odasaku’s breath shook a bit, “okay… is it weed..?”
Dazai nodded again, and Oda nodded back.
“Okay…” He sighed. Odasaku thought for a moment, losing himself in it. He had seen Dazai drunk before– Hell, they got wasted together on his birthday. But this… this was different.
Dazai tried to kill the awkwardness, “It’s… not as bad as it looks, seriously, like– Okay I know it looks like.. Bad. Like really fucking bad, but it isn’t. Actually, it’s good– like– I have some money–”
“Yeah? Because you told me on the phone that you couldn’t afford to feed yourself, and I mean– now that I can see you, that’s obvious,” Oda ran his hands down his face. The jab at his appearance stung– deeply.
He knew he was probably a little too thin, at the very least thinner than Oda had last seen him. But fuck, he was trying.
His heart sank a bit as he replied, and he crossed his arms to hide himself slightly, “...I’ve actually gained like.. Two kilograms in the past couple of weeks, I think. I’m working on it. My uh… sugar daddy’s been buying me groceries.”
Oda groaned, “That’s really what I don’t fucking like, Osamu. You said he was fucking thirty. He’s older than me. You understand that he’s using you, right?”
The irony of that statement was almost funny. If anyone was being used, it was definitely Chuuya. Dazai chuckled a bit, unable to stop himself.
“...Our agreement doesn’t include sex. He’s not using me. And uh… considering it was my idea… I wouldn’t worry about the age thing. ”
Oda deadpanned, “Are you having sex with him?”
“...None of your business…” Dazai shrugged.
“ Osamu, he–” Odasaku let out a frustrated sigh, “...are you using protection? At least?”
“Okay uh–” Dazai began, before stopping himself. Granted, that part was probably pretty stupid. But Chuuya seemed to care a lot about consent, and Dazai really didn’t think he would lie about getting tested.
He just… didn’t seem like that kind of person. He’d been with people far less gentle than him, so he knew what that looked like.
Dazai’s silence seemed to light a fire in Oda, as his face grew angrier by the second.
“... You’re an idiot.”
“Hey!” Dazai frowned, “My sex life is my business! If I wanna get creampied then I’m gonna do it, asshole.”
“ Ew, Osamu!? Don’t fucking– god what the fuck?!” Oda cringed.
Dazai shrugged again, but far more frustrated. Granted, he didn’t exactly have access to his filter when he was stoned, so he was kind of just saying shit.
“Oh, I’m sorry, you were the one who asked if I was taking it raw up the ass. Sorry I answered your question.” Dazai spat.
Oda exhaled, staying silent for a long moment, “Okay, just– … your business. Fine. That’s fine. I just wanted to ask you if you’re being safe, but I forgot that you don’t fucking care about that.”
Dazai’s jaw clenched, and a lump grew in his throat. He stared at Oda for what felt like a long while– but maybe it was only a minute. He couldn’t tell.
How does someone respond to a statement that is so fundamentally truthful, and yet impossible to admit?
They can’t. So Dazai didn’t.
Instead, he mumbled something about needing to re-wrap his arm, and shut himself in his bathroom– like some angsty middle schooler.
Something about being in the bathroom reminded him of just how high he was– and the mirror reminded him of how high he looked. Odasaku had always been a man of poor timing… but this was something else.
He wanted to cry.
It was some mix of feeling like Odasaku only cared when he was worried, and the fact that he was worrying Odasaku. As much as Dazai didn’t like to think about the past, Oda was there when Dazai was at his worst. Oda had seen Dazai on the days that he didn’t want to fight anymore.
The knot in his chest wouldn't loosen. There was a certain kind of sadness and anger that manifested so physically: an aching pain in his ribcage that intesified with every passing moment.
It was like he could barely even breathe.
As much as Dazai tried to be okay– to laugh at it all, to smile and joke like his life hadn’t been fucked from the start– somewhere inside him was always in pain. Some part of him always knew that if he were to die, he wouldn’t mind.
He was no longer in a place where he would end it himself, and he hadn’t been for a while. But… that didn’t mean he didn’t still have those days where he wished he would have succeeded the times he tried to.
Suicide was a common topic in the mind of Dazai Osamu: a simple fact of his existence. No matter how much he healed, how hard he tried, how much he so desperately wished he could just love being alive– he could never seem to do it.
So, he found distraction, after distraction, after distraction, after distraction.
Maybe that distraction was caring for a dog that he could never bear to leave alone, or maybe it was scouring the internet for men that could tell him how pretty he was–
And sure, maybe the next one was drugs, or sex, or something– anything-
He took a deep breath as he finished wrapping his arm and braced himself on the counter top. He wished he’d brought his phone, but he’d left it on his bed outside– so he couldn’t even entertain himself in there to get his mind off it all. Stalling wasn’t really an option, but he fixed his hair and cleaned his glasses off nonetheless before walking back out.
Frozen in front of the countertop was Odasaku, stiff in the shoulders.
All of a sudden, Dazai remembered what he’d found that morning on his countertop– what he had failed to store away.
Shit.
Oda turned slowly to face him, and sure enough, he held that little baggie of white powder in a shaking hand.
The older man’s entire demeanor had changed. The frustration in his eyes melted into fear.
Oh…
Oh no.
Dazai held his breath. Oda didn’t need to say anything, but he did anyway.
“Osamu… what is this?” His voice had grown breathy and soft, like air was caught in his lungs.
How was he supposed to respond to that... at least, in a way that didn’t rip Oda’s heart from his body.
“Uhm…”
The voice that left Dazai’s throat felt raw and shaky, from either anxiety or sadness. Not even he could tell.
“It’s… that’s– uh…” Dazai could see Oda’s face twisting the more he hesitated. God, it hurt. Guilt coursed through his every vein– he couldn’t stand it– he–
“It’s… not as bad as it looks..?”
Oda slammed the baggie flat onto the counter with a loud BAM!
“God fucKING DAMN IT, OSAMU.”
Dazai jumped. His chest tightened, his breath picked up, and he could feel his sweating hands begin to shake. What was he supposed to do– supposed to say– he needed to run– but this was his house– how was he going to–
“ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME?!” Oda kept going, like he’d been holding in his anger this whole time.
All Dazai could do was let him, while every word pierced him a little deeper.
“IS THIS WHAT YOU’RE SPENDING YOUR FUCKING MONEY ON?! DO YOU KNOW HOW DANGEROUS THAT IS?! YOUR UNCLE IS DYING OF FUCKING HEART FAULIRE, AND YOU’RE GONNA SNORT FUCKING COCAINE?! THAT SHIT RUNS IN YOUR FAMILY, OSAMU! ”
Every sentence got louder, and Dazai hadn’t even registered that he’d backed himself up against the door to the bathroom, panting.
This wasn’t happening.
There’s no fucking way this was happening…
..Right?
No, no, he must be having some nightmare. Maybe he never woke up last night, or something. Maybe he–
“..You’re just gonna stand there and stare at me, huh? Fuck– it’s like you can’t even fucking hear me, ” Oda chuckled dryly, panting, before his harsh tone returned, “I’ll ask your drugged-up ass a yes or no question, then. Think you can handle that?”
Dazai stared wide-eyed, nodding slowly.
Fuck.
This was definitely, definitely happening.
Oda took a deep breath, clearly trying to calm himself down. He didn’t have very many outbursts, but when he did, they were awful to be on the receiving end of.
“...Are you getting your drugs from your little boyfriend?”
“...His name is Chuuya,” Dazai nodded a little. There was no use in lying. He may not have gotten that baggie from him, but he got coke from him last night, and that’s who bought him his dab pen and alcohol.
Oda exhaled, mulling over how to respond.
“..Is he aware that you’ve overdosed twice?”
Oda couldn’t look at him anymore– and nothing hurt more than that. No. Chuuya didn’t know that. Dazai didn’t feel the need to tell him– what was the point?
He knew that part of his life was over…
But to Oda, those were memories that haunted him.
“No… But–" Dazai’s voice grew weaker, and tears filled his eyes, "I’m not gonna do that again… Not on purpose…”
Oda looked as though he were going to cry too, staring nowhere in particular. Suddenly, he strided towards Dazai– and he honestly though he was about to get punched, but–
Odasaku’s arms wrapped around him tightly, and tears began to pour silently from his eyes.
He hugged Dazai like he was terrified.
Dazai hugged him back, burying his face in his shoulder, as warm tears flowed down his face as well. He couldn’t stop them. Not this time.
So they stood, hearts broken and aching, like they could put each other back together somehow.
Time passed slowly, and silence filled with quiet, desperate sobs– evidence that those old wounds had never really healed…
And they never really would.
Eventually, Oda sniffed.
Defeated: that was the only way to describe how his voice seeped from his lips.
“..I’m sorry for yelling.. Okay, I–” he tried to catch his breath, “I need you safe… but I can’t stop anything you do.”
Dazai exhaled shakily, like the air was trapped in his lungs and ripped out.
“...I know..” he breathed, “...and I’m okay… more okay than I’ve been in so long…”
Oda seemed hurt by that, and pulled away. His eyes were exhausted– so, so exhausted.
“Tell this Chuuya guy what he needs to know, or I will.”
Dazai’s eyebrows twisted in confusion, “W-...what..?”
Odasaku didn’t reply. Instead, he patted Dazai on the shoulder, and made his way to the door.
He would tell him? What the fuck did that mean ?! That wasn’t his place, he–
“Call me when you’re sober, okay?”
SLAM!
Dazai jumped, his own thoughts disorienting him as the room fell silent. He didn’t notice how he had begun to slide down the door.
What he did notice was that his phone wasn’t where he left it on the bed.
It was on the countertop.