"It's a gamble," she warns him, but she's already leaning up slightly to meet him halfway.
"We will either heal together," he concludes, mouth already pressed to hers, "or we will both be destroyed."
And, together, they fall.
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
The heat of the summer hits Yokohama with full force by the time August comes around, sweltering in waves that are practically visible to the eye.
"Do we have to be out right now?" Dazai whines, fanning himself to no avail, tugging at the collar of his white dress shirt. "Mother Nature is being criminal right now with how hot it is."
Chuuya snorts, shirt sleeves rolled up higher than usual. "It's called global warming, nitwit."
"Well, make it stop."
"I can't, you illiterate fuck!"
(Name) smacks the both of their backs to get them to shut up, sighing sharply through her nose. "Don't speak unnecessarily and increase the planet's carbon dioxide generation."
"It's not going to make a difference," Chuuya reminds, amused as he attempts to roll his shirt sleeves up higher, giving up halfway through.
Dazai peers around her to narrow his eyes at the redhead. "I don't know, Chuuya. With how much rubbish you speak, it just might," he contemplates before lifting a finger. "Have you considered undertaking a vow of silence as sign of penance to make up for the heinous crime of forcing innocent children like us to look at the monstrosity you call a face?"
"Have you considered dropping dead?" Chuuya growls.
Nodding, the brunet straightens. "I have, actually. I'm trying, okay?"
The elder male crosses his arms. "Let me know if you want my help with that."
Predictably, Dazai rolls his eyes. "Anything you suggest will be painful, Chuuya. I don't like pain."
"That's funny considering what you two have gotten yourselves into."
(Name) glances at him, barely inclining her head. "And what's that?"
Chuuya deadpans. "You're kidding, right? Don't insult me by pretending!"
Leaning in closer to her, Dazai conspiratorially comments, "I think he's gone mad."
"Tragic," she remarks, nodding once.
They snicker while Chuuya seethes, swearing at his partners, the three of them blending in almost seamlessly with the pedestrian crowd as they return from their simple scouting mission, basking in the warmth of the sun and the glow of their youth. With each other, at least, they can pretend to be innocent and act like they don't belong to the night.
She thinks it's funny to feel safest and happiest with two of the most dangerous people in the city. But when they're together, neither of them are their reputations or their histories-- they are simply wild youths and a wild present and a wild future waiting to happen. Here, with them, she understands why immortality sounds appealing to some.
