A Bitter Cage // Kunizai, Bungo Stray Dogs

viii

Kunikida woke up panicking. His heart was racing, and as he shoved his glasses onto his face with shaking hands he ran through his dream in his mind. A soft laugh, warm eyes, bandaged arms with fingers that gently held his chin. He'd been dreaming of Dazai, a Dazai that looked at him in a way that made him feel stripped bare.

He couldn't think about anything other than how Dazai's warm breath had felt against his face in his dream. Kunikida didn't even realize what he was doing until he was pulling on his shoes. He was entirely dressed, even wearing one of Dazai's hoodies under his coat. What time was it, even? His phone read 4:17. He sighed, rubbing his forehead. There wasn't anything to do that early. Still, he wouldn't be able to fall back asleep. His heartbeat was still thumping too quickly, and he could feel tremors in his fingers.

It all made so much sense.

The night was misty, glowing with the streetlights as Kunikida rushed through the city. He wanted to outrun his feelings. He wanted to get to Dazai.

His trench coat fluttered behind him as he strode faster and faster. He crossed streets regardless of the lights, and almost was hit by a car he hadn't noticed. He didn't stop until he reached Dazai's apartment building.

He could use his gift to make the key, and-

His Ideals weren't in his pocket. Dazai insisted that it didn't matter what paper he used, but Kunikida found that his gift was like Ranpo's, requiring specificity in order to work. He had to speak out loud, and he had to use paper from one of his journals.

Normally he carried scraps of papers, but his jacket pockets were out, as was Dazai's hoodie pocket. Oh well. He was content to wait. There was a bench nearby, and he settled himself onto it, his mind racing, the sheer velocity of his thoughts keeping him warm and focused.

He was in love with a man. He'd never, ever considered it. That was how it worked, though, wasn't it? Love blindsided, love didn't wait for preparation, love sprung from the most defenseless angle.

Sticking his hands into the pocket of the hoodie he'd stolen, Kunikida closed his eyes and let himself analyze. He'd thought he was straight, because it was the only option he'd allowed himself. Now he was starting to see why he'd never found a woman who made him question his impossible list of attributes.

Dazai, though? Kunikida wasn't sure he matched any of the requirements, really. But if Kunikida had been holding his Ideals, he knew he'd have ripped out the page of what he wanted in a spouse. It didn't matter anymore. All he wanted was Dazai.

Although... Dazai didn't want him. He reopened his eyes, staring sadly at the cement around him as he remembered Dazai's words. Is it against your personal convictions to be friends with someone who might be attracted to you? Not that I am, of course. I don't even care, why do you?

Still, he owed Dazai the truth. It didn't matter if his feelings were returned, he would not hide something like that from his friend.

After a couple hours he walked to a 24/7 store and bought some hot coffee to bring life back into his limbs. Then he was back to waiting, watching the sky grow murky with natural light that warred with the city luminescence.

"Kunikida? Are you alright?" Dazai was rushing towards him. He must have been planning on getting to work especially early. Sometimes he liked to arrive with enough time to do his chores and make Kunikida something special before he got there.

"I had a dream," Kunikida said. He couldn't take his eyes off of Dazai. Concern made his perfect face heartbreaking. He could hardly breathe when looking upon him.

Dazai knelt before him, resting his hands on Kunikida's knees as he looked up into his face. "Are you okay? Can I help?"

Kunikida took a deep breath. "Dazai, I realized that I'm in love with you." Every expression vanished from Dazai's face like white paint being poured over intricate artwork – burying any feeling in pure neutrality.

...I'm in love with you.

Dazai knew he should have seen it coming.

There had been cracks in his dikes for months, letting small streams of saltwater into his fields. There was only so long he could hold back the ocean by himself.

The tsunami that had drowned him had been coming for long enough that he could have chosen to see it.

It was his fault he had chosen to keep his eyes closed.

He hadn't been ignoring Kunikida's feelings. He'd suspected them for a while.

He'd been ignoring his own.

He wanted to be in Kunikida's life, he wanted to be close to him, he wanted to trust him and love him and spend his days with nothing filling his mind more.

Dazai slowly closed his eyes, listening to Kunikida as he processed the fact that he, too, was in love.

"...and I don't have any expectations," Kunikida was saying, "but I wanted you to know. I don't want to hide things from you."

Behind his eyelids, there was no veil between Dazai and his memories of Chuuya. He could never, ever replace him. Logically he knew Kunikida would be understanding and kind, but he had no strength to be logical with.

He'd fallen in love. He'd already betrayed Chuuya.

When Dazai opened his eyes and opened his mouth, he couldn't even hear his own words over the rush of blood in his ears.

He didn't have to hear what he was saying, though, to know that he was vomiting hatred, sharpened into barbs, meant to cut this new enemy down before he could find himself too enamored to push back and force him away.

Kunikida was flushed, hurt shaping his mouth into words he didn't get to speak over Dazai's tirade.

What was he even saying? Was he telling Kunikida that he'd never want him? That he'd hated being friends with him?

He couldn't tell, but he knew the taste of bitter lies.

Kunikida left.

Dazai stayed, crumpled on the edge of the bench, until he had to go to work.

Without Kunikida, the morning felt empty and grey.

He walked like a mindless ghost numbly retracing routes he'd once known in life.