Memories | Dazai X Reader

Fourteen • Swim With Me

Today? He often doesn't consider other people's feelings.

• • •

"I'm sorry..." he whispers, running his hand through your hair apologetically. "I shouldn't have said any of that." You stay still, not moving your body at all, "I'm glad you said what you did, though. It helps me—us—get a better idea of where you're at and how you're actually feeling."

He sighs, he wants to try to fix everything, even if it isn't even his fault—

And it's hard.

To know that you once loved this person that you're meant to love. He knows he feels something, he knows he likes you–

God, that bubbly feeling in his chest that he gets whenever you're in the same room as him feels so natural yet unsettling. Like his body knows that this is the right person, but his mind is telling the rest of him that he doesn't have the same feeling as he once did.

Or at least, he doesn't yet.

"I'll remember everything—our first date, the first time we met, the first time I saw you— I swear I will," Dazai says, using his other hand to take your own. He brings it up towards him, pressing a kiss to one of your knuckles.

"I swear," he breathes out, as if he didn't mean to say it outloud, like he was doing a mental check with himself.

That rings inside your head.

I swear.

• • •

On a better side of the situation, Ango and Oda sit together in Oda's office. It's getting late, but neither one of them is making a move to end the discussion.

Not to mention the fact that Ango brought alcohol, but that's a whole other situation to deal with.

Regardless, they're now sitting on the floor of the office. Laughing fills the room, and it's no surprise that both of them are drunk.

"Write that down, I like that," Oda says, wagging his finger to point at the whiteboard he has in his office. Ango gets up and takes a marker from the ledge, then adds yet another note to their mess of a storyboard.

Who said that writers had to be neat and tidy?

They're thinking of their story while on the floor and drunk, how well put together is that considered?

"One more drink," Ango says, pouring himself another—but also his last—drink. Oda nods, and Ango immediately takes Oda's glass and refills it for him. "Your office is going to be a mess," Ango chuckles, handing over the glass.

"I'll clean it," Oda shrugs, taking a sip. "Our storyboard looks pretty good."

"It does, except it would look horrifying to anyone else" Ango replies, "and no—I'm going to help you clean. What kind of person would I be if I didn't?"

He laughs at that.

"I bet Dazai would be able to make sense of it," Oda says, thinking back to the way Dazai was so good at things like this—seeing hidden messages, being able to understand the worst parts of a person, but also making use of that.

It definitely wasn't the greatest skill, however, he can say it saved him from a lot of trouble with other people. Then again, it was the main reason why he could never talk to anyone. Maybe he was just being pessimistic, but being able to see through a person with just their body language had geniunely fucked up Dazai's thought process.

And even if he did remember things before the accident, he'll never remember when any of these thoughts started.

"Really? I'm not entirely shocked, he seems like a relatively smart person," Ango replies, practically chugging down the rest of his drink. He sets the glass to the side, and pushes his glasses up, "We're gonna be screwed tomorrow morning."

"He is," Oda tells him, and then he laughs. "I don't even think I'll be able to come to work tomorrow because of the headache I'll get."

"Well, if you do come tomorrow—I'm bringing coffee."

• • •

When the two of you wake up and a dim light fills the room, neither you or Dazai get up from the bed. You turn over to your side, and you see Dazai looking straight at you.

"Morning," he mumbles, a soft smile spreading on his face.

"Morning to you, too," you whisper back, moving a section of his hair so that it's behind his ear. His hair is softer than usual, and you fight back the urge to start playing with it.

"What time is it?" he asks, voice still lower than usual. "It's still early."

Maybe it's a bad idea to not address the conversation that you had yesterday, but either way it always comes back—

Dazai always had a thing where he would forget whatever happened the night before in the morning, and then later on in the day he goes, 'oh right, that happened'.

Dazai's phone buzzes on the nightstand, and he turns only enough so that he can pick up his phone.

There's a new message from Ranpo–nothing new, nothing special, it's just Ranpo being himself and complaining about how boring his job is. Then there's also a message from...Chuuya—?

Which isn't exactly odd, but it's definitely unusual because they don't text often.

He looks up from his phone. "What?" he asks, a chuckle escaping his lips when his eyes meet yours. "Nothing," you reply, "just wanted to look at you."

"Enjoying the view, then?" he asks, then he shows you the text message he got from Chuuya.

(Slug): Wanna go to the coffee shop today? Ask [Y/N], too, but let her know that I'm not asking either of you, you're both coming.

"Tell him sure, we'll meet him there," you say, amused.

Dazai texts him back, and on the other side, all Chuuya sees on his screen is—

(Mackerel): No...
(Mackerel): We're meeting you there, don't take too long.

Chuuya laughs—of course he would say it like that. It's easy to believe that for a moment, things may actually be going back to normal.

Or maybe it's simply the calm before the storm.

A/N: referencing my own stories was the highlight of this chapter tbh