Soukoku Oneshots

Figment of my imagination

--Angst

-

As Chuuya sat in quiet contemplation by Dazai's grave, he felt the weight of grief pressing down on him like a physical force. The cemetery was bathed in the soft glow of twilight, casting long shadows across the rows of headstones. It was a somber and lonely place, but to Chuuya, it was the only place where he felt truly connected to Dazai's memory.

He had come here countless times since Dazai's passing, seeking solace in the silent company of the dead. It was a ritual born out of desperation - a way for Chuuya to hold on to the memory of his lost love, even as the world moved on without him.

But tonight felt different somehow. Tonight, as he knelt beside Dazai's grave, Chuuya felt an overwhelming sense of longing wash over him - a longing for the warmth of Dazai's presence, for the sound of his laughter, for the touch of his hand against Chuuya's cheek.

Closing his eyes, Chuuya allowed himself to drift back to happier times - to lazy afternoons spent tangled in Dazai's arms, to whispered promises exchanged in the darkness of their shared bedroom, to stolen moments of tenderness that had sustained them through the darkest of days.

But no matter how hard he tried, Chuuya couldn't shake the bitter reality of Dazai's absence. It was a wound that refused to heal, a gaping hole in his heart that threatened to consume him whole.

And so, with a heavy heart and tear-stained cheeks, Chuuya whispered words of love and longing into the stillness of the night, hoping against hope that somehow, somewhere, Dazai could hear him - that he knew just how much he was missed, just how much he was loved.

But as the minutes stretched into hours and the stars began to fade from the sky, Chuuya knew that he couldn't stay here forever. With a final, lingering glance at Dazai's gravestone, he rose to his feet, his steps heavy with sorrow as he turned to leave the cemetery behind.

But just as he reached the edge of the graveyard, a voice called out to him from the darkness - a voice that he knew all too well.

"Chuuya?"

Turning, Chuuya's heart leaped into his throat as he saw the figure standing before him - a figure bathed in the soft light of the moon, his features illuminated by its gentle glow.

"Dazai?" Chuuya breathed, hardly daring to believe his eyes.

And there, standing before him, was Dazai - alive and whole and achingly beautiful, just as Chuuya remembered him. Without a word, Chuuya rushed forward, his arms outstretched, ready to pull Dazai into the embrace he had been dreaming of for so long.

But as he drew closer, Chuuya's heart sank as he realized the truth - that this was not Dazai, but merely a figment of his imagination, a cruel trick of the mind brought on by grief and longing.

With a choked sob, Chuuya stumbled backward, his legs threatening to give out beneath him as he collapsed to the ground, his body wracked with sobs.

"I miss you," he whispered into the darkness, his words carried away on the night breeze. "I miss you so fucking much."

And as the tears continued to fall, Chuuya knew that no matter how much time passed, no matter how far he traveled from this place, a part of him would always remain here - with Dazai, in the quiet solitude of the cemetery, where their love would live on forever in his heart.

"I can't go on. I can't do it"