What are we?

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I'm aware that I lived through this,
I'm in all the pictures,
all of your scriptures.
Our memories framed on the wall
So I know, that I lived through this.
But, it wasn't us,
No.
Not yet.
We haven't lived through it yet.
Still, it's kinda hard to forget.

Chuuya still spent a lot of time thinking about what made Dazai cry, it had to be something grandiose, something that shook him up his core considering it made someone as unexpressive as him cry. He didn't pry though, knowing it wouldn't lead them to any good conclusions.

Two days passed leading them into Wednesday and Chuuya noticed two things: first, when he tried entering any room while their older selves were around Dazai would always look back to see if the door was closed or not and if it was he'd drag him off to do something else. Second, Dazai acted slightly suspicious about anything and everything.

The truth was that Dazai, just yesterday, had yet again stumbled on something he shouldn't have.

Something he'd find himself wanting to remember.

He went into one of the spare cupboards to look for the vacuum, after spilling crisps on the floor and was looking to clean them, only to open the door and find precious memories framed in various sizes and coloured frames.

Memories of Dazai's friends.

Memories with Chuuya.

Memories he didn't have yet.

There were a lot that stood out to him, like the one where he was being carried by Atsushi, like a princess, while placing a sloppy kiss on his cheek, the younger beaming.

Or the one where he was doing the can-can while sandwiched in between Chuuya and Yosano, all three of them seemingly drunk, but still laughing heartily.

There were some from Chuuya's life too, like the one where he and Akutagawa were on a little date and they took a picture together, Chuuya grinning like an idiot, a very small smile tugging Akutagawa's lips.

There was one with Chuuya sitting next to Kyōyō, learning to sew, he was biting his lip in concentration whilst Kyōyō watched him with tender eyes.

There were plenty more but there was one specific series of photos that really grabbed Dazai's attention.

It was a series of photos taken in Paris, in a massive frame, about half the size of Dazai. It made him quite glad, knowing that Chuuya finally made it to the one place he'd always wanted to go to.

Chuuya could speak French, though Dazai had never heard him, he'd never had any interest to hear him but now he did, he just wasn't sure if his body would be able to handle it.

Setting that aside, it seemed like they both enjoyed the trip, the pictures were evident enough.

Most of the photos were messily taken, apart from the last one, they were all selfies taken by Chuuya in front of the Eiffel Tower as it lit up.

The first one was them posing with a smile on their face, eyes at the camera, the second was Dazai turning to kiss Chuuya on the cheek, a smile still present on his face, the third was Chuuya doing the same and kissing Dazai on the cheek, his brown eyes wide with surprise, even the dimly lit streets of Paris couldn't hide the thick blush that coated Dazai's cheeks.

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