whoever said it's better to love and lose
never loved and lost you
(I wish I never met you- Babygirl)
TW: mentions of suicide, psychological and emotional abuse.
●○●○●○●○●
Three weeks had passed and the Agency was officially going back to normal.
The lingering sense of awkwardness was no more and the members were working as hard as their personalities let them to. Kunikida was still as diligent and responsible as possible, Atsushi was hard working yet clumsy, the Tanizaki siblings were… still that , Kyoka was getting closer to Yosano and learning about different ways to heal and torture , Dazai was slacking off, and… the young woman with strands of white hair and tired eyes was actually going out on jobs.
She started to get paired with Kenji. It was a strategy manufactured by Dazai, fully knowing that when the teenager was involved she would agree to help. That way, she got herself doing jobs alongside the blonde boy with a straw hat, and surprisingly, she was enjoying it. The work given to Kenji wasn't the hardest, also, it was quite easy because everyone feared the teen, the only thing she had to do was to keep things less chaotic.
Sometimes it worked, sometimes it didn't.
Little by little, her smile started to get more genuine.
“We are off! See you guys later!” Kenji shouted while opening the door a little too strong, making the door frame tremble and a big thud from the knob hitting the wall. The young woman just smiled apologetically towards Kunikida and walked after the teen.
Atsushi saw them take off, his eyes lingering a little longer than necessarily. Days were getting easier, things back to normal, the sun was still warm, yet he felt like something was… off. The weretiger could not explain it logically, the only thing he had was a discomfort at the pit of his stomach, like staying at the top of a rollercoaster and waiting for the fall.
His eyes traveled to the empty seat beside him. Dazai has been quite absent from the office, he had called to check on his unconventional mentor and his concerns were brushed off, “I am working on something, just keep writing my missing reports for me please!”, that's the answer he gave Atsushi.
“Yeah, he has been busy with god-knows-what, so don't worry about him, I still see him almost every night” The newest, yet not so new member of the Agency responded when also asked about Dazai's disappearance from the office.
Still, Atsushi felt himself preparing for the hit.
Shaking his head, the young man tiger stood up and headed for the stairs, clutching a bunch of unfinished reports in his arms. He has decided to work on the café downstairs in hopes to clear his head.
It indeed worked. Between the smell of freshly brewed coffee and tea, the murmuring of people outside on the street, the honking of cars, and the change of environment, he actually got some work done. It was getting late, the sun was going down making the sidewalk gleam a warm orange, so he took his things and headed back upstairs.
“Excuse me sir, do you work here?” A man dressed in a khaki uniform asked Atsushi just as he was about to open the Agency door. The weretiger shyly nodded as an answer.
“I have a packet to deliver, if you could just sign here please”
The package was a small box, it seemed pretty normal. Atsushi shook it a little trying to figure out its contents but only heard a faint sound, it also was not heavy. The interesting part of it was that it had Dazai's name written on it. And so, Atsushi placed it on top of his mentor's desk, along with all the reports he had made on his behalf.
“ Oooh , what's that?” Ranpo's voice appeared out of nowhere, making Atsushi jump in his chair.
In a split second Ranpo had the box in his hands, inspecting it carefully, his glasses on as if he really needed them to see. Atsushi stayed quiet, letting the detective do his work, because he was also very curious about the box's contents.
Ranpo's eyes grew a little wide, his grip on the box got a little tighter, and his lips twisted a little to the side, but he was not smiling, actually he was frowning as his gaze stayed on the little box.
“ Yo… how's everyone been? Don't mind me I'm just here to leave some documents for Kunikida”
Dazai casually entered the office with a bunch of crunched up papers on his hand, he walked as if he had no weight on his feet, but his shoulders look tense and he had his eyes closed, if he didnt had the whole office memorized he would have crashed into some chairs or desks.
Ranpo moved his eyes from the box to Dazai's “relaxed” entrance.
The next thing Atsushi saw was the box flying and hitting Dazai on the chest, and after that, Ranpo walked towards the bandaged detective and punched him in the face, well, at least he tried.
The punch was weak, barely connecting to the taller detective. Ranpo is not really a fighter, he has never actually been in a fight, he has had people fight around him, protect him, defend him, but never once has he been the one to throw a punch.
Dazai finally opened his eyes, he stared at the box on the floor with an emotionless face.
“Dazai-san, are you okay? Ranpo-san what-” Atsushi raised his voice in confusion. He has never seen Ranpo that angry, not enough to make him get physical.
None of the senior detectives answered. Dazai just let out a loud sigh and turned to face Ranpo at last, who was wearing an angry look on his eyes and his ears were red from the frustration, his hands still in fists.
Dazai reached out and grabbed one of Ranpo's hands who were trembling, threatening to try and punch Dazai again, still the taller detective held his fist and touched Ranpo's thumb.
“You have to take the thumb out or you are going to crack it, it was a good punch, but try to move your hips and shoulders when you swing, arm strength is not enough.” Dazai's voice was calm despite having been punched not a minute ago.
Dazai let go of Ranpo's hand and took three steps back.
“Now, try again”
And Ranpo indeed tried again, this time the hit was harder, actually making Dazai stumble a little, but not enough to make him take a step back. Still the darkening of his cheekbone said it was a better punch than the one before.
Atsushi stayed on his desk, standing up but unmoving. He did not know what to do or how to handle the two best detectives fighting, actually fist fighting in the middle of the office for something he did not understand and was too afraid to ask.
“Um… what is going on?”
Kenji and the young woman were standing in the doorway, she was looking confused having read all the signs that there was a conflict between Ranpo and Dazai, and Kenji was already distracted with something so he paid no attention to the fight right in front of him.
“Someone delivered a little box, and Ranpo saw it and then threw it at Dazai and proceed to punch Dazai, but it was not a good punch so Dazai taught him how and got punched again, and honestly I don't know what is going on-” Before anyone could answer, Atsushi was already word vomiting on the scene.
Raising an eyebrow, she headed for the small box that was left forgotten on the floor. She took it smoothly, dodging Dazai's hands that were also reaching for it.
“What the hell is in here that made Ranpo so mad that he actually hit you-” She shook the box placing it near her ear but couldn't hear much. “Is it his favorite candy?” she asked fully knowing that it could not be since the box was very light.
She started to get nervous as soon as she paid attention to the detectives' expressions.
Ranpo was looking at her with soft eyes and a frown on his eyebrows, his face was showing signs of compassion, sadness and anger. Seeing Ranpo like that made her not want to turn and face Dazai, but she did anyway.
Dazai looked… guilty .
Her gaze fell again in the box in her hand. Then back at Ranpo and Dazai.
The atmosphere was tense, the air felt thick, unbreathable. No one moved in what felt like a whole hour. Dazai kept looking at her, then at the box, with the same expression of shame and guilt.
She held the box securely in her hands and ran for the conference room. Dazai immediately went after her, but she had already closed the door. Dazai thought about picking the lock and entering the room, but that would probably only make things worse. So he knocked on the door.
“Please let me in so we can talk”
Dazai's forehead was on the door, his eyes closed, one hand resting on the door, hoping that it would open.
But she was only hearing her glass heart shatter on the other side of the door.
There was silence.
Tortuous five minutes passed, no one made a move, no one made a sound, just waiting not so patiently for the girl to come out of the conference room.
With a click the door opened. She came out with the box still in her hands, the tape that was keeping the box sealed now undone. Her expression was not something neither Ranpo or Dazai expected. She was… calm , with a hardness on her expression that was maybe what was keeping her together.
“Can I just-” Dazai tried to end the silence, because it was actually suffocating him.
“Don't speak” She cut him off quickly. Her voice trembled a little and a sad smile adorned her face. Now that her eyes were actually on Dazai's he could see the reflection of her emotional state.
“No doubt” He whispered.
“Literally” She laughed dryly, feeling the pain in her chest and lungs.
A moment of silence was given.
“You have two hours to get your things out of my apartment” She added as she handed the box to Dazai, and then headed for the door, walking out and closing the door behind her.
“... what just happened?” Atsushi was still lost in the situation, he just had the feeling of wanting to cry.
“Isn't it obvious? He cheated on her” Ranpo said with no tact whatsoever.
Atsushi turned to look at Dazai, who had plopped down on his chair and was looking at the ceiling. The mysterious box now rested on his desk, unattended.
The young weretiger, in his disbelief, reached for the box, taking its contents out. Various pictures fell onto the desk, they were mostly rushed takes, not done by a professional, as if someone had followed Dazai and captured him with another woman.
Atsushi now understood why Ranpo punched Dazai. But he did not have it in him, all that Atsushi could do was stare at Dazai with anger and sadness, so he headed for the door too, because Atsushi could not share a space with Dazai at the moment.
“She needs to be alone, Atsushi” Dazai said, eyes still glued to the ceiling.
“I will not hear about what she needs or does not need from someone who has only hurt her.”
And with that last comment, Atsushi left the building.
—----------------—
She didn't know what to do or where to go, not even who to call. All she wanted was nothing at all.
If she could disappear for a week, she would take the chance. If she could fast forward into a year, she would push the button. But the only thing she could do is feed the stray cats at the park.
She wanted to cry but the sadness stayed on her throat and refused to get out. Her chest felt hollow and her head hurt. The only thing bringing her some kind of lifeline were the cats on her feet meowing and rubbing her legs.
Cats were different to her. She loved dogs, rabbits, guinea pigs, any animal gave her a warm feeling in her chest. But cats have always made her feel less lonely. The way the small felines look at a person seemed personal, as if they could understand people, cats look straight into your eyes, and the ones at the park were no exception. They were staring at her as if they could feel her hurt and sadness, and them acknowledging it was enough.
One cat in particular looked at her, a calico cat. It was just staring at her like it knew her, yet the cat did not go to greet her. It stayed on the edge of the sidewalk with compassion in its eyes and a flower in front of its paws. The cat left the white flower and walked away.
She had to wait two hours until she could go home. She wasn't sure how long she had been on the park bench. She couldn't risk seeing him again for now.
Would she cry? Would she scream at him? Would she burn his clothes?
She didn't want to find out.
So she stayed on the park bench, feeding the cats. She could be there forever, just her and the cats, because time has stopped for her.
—------
Deep breath in, deep breath out.
Turn the key. Hand on the doorknob.
Push the door.
Take off your shoes.
It's been a while since she had opened a door with such caution. It took her back to her teenage years, when she tried to make as little noise as possible when entering her parents' house because she had come home late and a little drunk, afraid that she would get caught and get yelled at. Now she was the one afraid of yelling at someone.
The apartment was empty.
It was so empty and alone that it felt suffocating.
The plastic bottles (since the incident) that used to be laying around the apartment were gone. There were pictures missing too. The ones that used to hang in the refrigerator, the ones decorating the hallway, even the ones from the living room and the bedroom. All gone.
His clothes were absent from the closet and drawers. He even took his old violin that stayed hidden on the back of the closet. His collection of bolo ties was no longer on display in the dresser, his cologne nowhere to be found, yet the house still smelled like him.
He was gone but his presence was still staining the walls.
She kept walking quietly around the apartment, seeing every little change that was made like she wanted to suffer.
Funny how she felt like a ghost haunting the halls, when it was supposed to be her own home.
She had not said a word, she wasn't even sure she was breathing. She felt like she was floating around and everything went through her. Have I eaten?, She couldn't remember.
Reaching for a blanket inside the small closet aside from the kitchen, she noticed a sealed box, turning on the lightbulb on the small space, she noticed Dazai's handwriting on it.
“ The last of us ”
If she wasnt so tired she would have rolled her eyes. Instead she opened the box with a small knife she had hidden for emergencies.
The box contained exactly what it had written.
Some of the missing pictures were there, others weren't, she supposed he had taken them with the rest of his stuff. There are other things like board games they have bought together, the very corny matching earrings they have bought in a thrift store, some of his clothes, like sweatshirts and sweaters, a pink headband that Dazai always used that was actually hers but ultimately he took possession of it. The sketchbook he once gave to her, she used to love looking at it, not it made her want to throw up. And lastly, a pink axolotl plushie.
A part of her wanted to just grab a match and burn the box and all its contents.
Another part of her wanted to take everything out and put it on display again as if nothing has ever happened.
She just pushed the box further into the closet and closed the door.
With heavy feet she walked into the hallway until she reached her bedroom door. She stood there, unmoving, clutching the pink axolotl to her chest.
Could she sleep in there? In a mattress that smelled like liquor and the sea?
She didn't.
She let her knees give up on her and made a home out of the floor. She layed on the cold ground, still hugging the plushie as if she was a little kid. She asked to have a good dream, one where she was loved and cared for. One that felt warm and light, and that made her feel alright.
One floor down, just a couple meters away, a man with bandages around his body stared out of his window.
Back at his very own apartment, Dazai was silently looking at the night sky with a lit cigarette hanging from his hands, untouched. He didn't even remember when he lit it up, the thought of tasting nicotine in his mouth made him nauseous, but who was he without his self destructing habits?
What else can he do besides drink, smoke and get high?
The place was silent, yet he heard a ringing in his ears that would not stop no matter how low the liquid in the bottle by the window still got.
He looked down the window, he saw the trees, the uncut grass, the trash that was never picked up, the floor.
Could he die if he decided to jump?
Probably not. It was not high enough. He had no time or patience to deal with broken bones and bruised skin.
He had no one to help him change his bandages anymore.
Mourning seemed hypocritical to him at the moment. He has been the one that committed the crime after all. What was he thinking? He couldn't recall. He wished he could say he wasn't, that he didn't have the cognitive ability to make choices, therefore, mistakes. But that was not true, he was cursed with a brain that thought of everything, every scenario, every outcome. So why?
If the reason was logical, he would know it by now. Sadly, this matter was not of the mind but the heart (metaphorically speaking). He was never great at reading his very own emotions, they were like strangers to him. Every feeling and sensation in his body were like tourists. He could only acknowledge them once they were leaving and everything was said and done.
He had taken three showers already. He felt dirty and uncomfortable in his skin, and no matter how much he rubbed his skin clean, so harshly that it got red and rough, he still was dirty.
He couldn't wash his mistake off.
The girl in the photographs delivered to the agency's office was a mistake. He knew it now, and he knew it back then. He knew what would happen when the girl hanging in the pendant of his bolo tie found out. Yet he walked into the club, he went into that hotel room.
It was him, all him.
He hated himself for a lot of things and this was just another one to the list.
“You're sabotaging yourself, you deserve happiness, you know?”
She could hear the voice of the girl one floor up inside his head. Telling him this was just him sabotaging himself because deep down he didn't believe he deserved to have good things. He has not earned them yet, and probably never will.
How could he deserve to be happy when all he does is destroy? When all he is capable of is bringing sadness to people's lives?
“You are capable of caring too, you are just not used to it. How could you? When you were a child all that people did was hurt you, its normal that you feel the need to protect yourself by keeping everyone at arm's length, by any means necessary”
Her voice wouldn't shut up inside his mind. Answering all the self deprecating comments he made about himself. She has made a small home in his brain and wouldn't get out.
“I love you”
The memories of her saying that word to him were haunting him. She had loved him, he actually felt loved, even though he wasn't able to return the feeling, he could recognize she cared about him.
But a part of him could not accept it.
He couldn't comprehend how she could love him despite his wicked nature. And as if her love was an expensive present, he returned it. Only she didn't accept returns, and so he took harsher measures.
“ its normal that you feel the need to protect yourself by keeping everyone at arm's length, by any means necessary ”
By any means necessary. And so he burned the bridge so she wouldn't cross it, so she wouldn't get close anymore.
That piece of conversation haunted him as much as the “I love you”s. Because that small conversation they had months ago while eating ice cream from a nearby shop while ignoring their work and Kunikida's calls, made him feel understood. She had causally read him while eating pistachio ice cream like it was nothing.
He had laughed when that happened. She just raised an eyebrow at him.
They walked back to the Agency holding hands.
Now he was at his apartment alone, and she was in hers.
That night he slept on the floor of the bathroom.
********************
She ignored calls. All day at any hour.
“Im fine”
“I just need some days to get on my feet”
“You really don't have to worry, break ups happen all the time, I wont lose it”
The repeating dialogues she had memorized so she could answer people without really thinking about her response. Just copy and paste to whoever texted her.
The only person she had actually written to without dissociating was the president. She texted him to inform him she would be taking some days off the office, but she would be keeping in touch if something regarding the cases she was on came up, or if there was an emergency.
“Understood. Take care, and if there's something you need, please let me, or any of the members know.”
That was the response she got, and for some reason it just made her cry. She watched her reflection on the cellphone screen and wanted to look away. Puffy eyes, dark circles under her eyes, her skin looks dry and gray, her hair out of place.
It was past noon, yet she crawled to her couch and laid there until she fell asleep.
Sleeping was all she could do.
Dazai was no better.
He also had not gone to work. He had texted Kunikida saying he had a tummy ache and would not be attending work. Dazai didn't even know why he had to add a lie into the text when probably the whole office knew by now.
Kunikida responded with, “fix it.”
Dazai stared at the text for 10 minutes. Reading and re-reading it. Trying to comprehend what Kunikida meant by it. The words made no sense to Dazai, because for him everything was already lost.
There's a way to fix it? Is there still hope?
Can everything go back to normal? Still?
The questions bombarded his head, each question hammered his skull.
Hours passed as if they were nothing but leaves led by the wind, and with the same motion, Dazai's limbs moved, hers stayed on on the couch where she was drowning.
Knock, knock.
She heard the sounds on the door like an echo. She felt underwater and everything sounded just like she was at the bottom of the sea. It was now six o'clock, her phone had stopped ringing and received messages, there was calm for a moment, and she could feel herself getting comfortable at the nothingness.
Knock, knock.
Once again the light sound of pounding entered her ears, yet she couldn't figure out if it was just the pain in her head, or the sound of her own heart beating in her ears.
Knock, knock.
It was coming from the door, she was now sure. Still, she didn't want to open up. She was nowhere near presentable. The thought of leaving the couch made her back hurt, and so, she stayed there rotting.
Knock, knock.
Whoever it was, was very persistent, forcing her to get up from the couch and to the door. Taking a deep breath she turned the doorknob and opened the door.
Upon seeing the person at the other side of the door she quickly tried to close it, but a foot and an arm did not let her slam the door.
“Get out”
She spit the words as she turned around and walked towards the kitchen trying to make some distance. She was not up for this, not today, probably not ever.
“No, we need to talk”
Dazai made his way into her apartment that once felt like his very own. The place now looked unfamiliar to him, without all his things laying around, the empty bottles on the floor, the pictures in frames. It all looked too gray for him.
“There's nothing to talk about, so please , please leave .”
She stayed in the kitchen as if it was a fortress, the counter and the various things laying around made her feel secure, like she could hide in the refrigerator, or climb into the cupboard and close the door.
Dazai stayed on the other side of the counter, only taking a few steps inside the apartment. He knew how this was going to end anyways, no point in taking off his shoes. There was no longer a place for them inside that house anymore.
“I am sorry, I really am” He said with an unsure voice, he was looking at her but she kept her eyes on the kitchen floor.
“I don't want your apologies, I want you to undo what you did so I can sleep at night, can you do that?” she spoke with a strained voice, like her vocal chords were just about to snap because of the tension.
“No, I can't” Dazai responded softly, almost defeatedly.
“Then there's nothing to do about it, please get out, I can't do this today, or ever. Let the space and time allow us to be cordial so we can work at the same place” She said with a soft voice that felt empty, like she was trying to convince herself that was what she wanted.
“I don't want that, I want you to be as foolish as always and take me back. Allow me to abuse your kindness one last time” Dazai said in a monotone voice, not because he didn't feel anything, but because if he allowed himself some mercy he feared he would break down right there.
He didn't like not being in control, and right now, she had all the power.
She really didn't want to do this. She kept her gaze on the floor because if she looked at him she was going to lose it, all the anger and sadness would spill and make a mess. But those words… that petition from him made her lift her head.
“Fuck you, Dazai” She spit her words with so much anger that they sounded crisp, like a million glasses shattering in her mouth.
“I love you”
Both of them stopped breathing. Not a single sound was made.
Her eyes opened so wide that it hurt, her fists clenched and all her anger traveled to her throat. She wanted to cry out of anger and scream her lungs out. There was so much rage that her eyes traveled to a plastic cup laying at the counter. She wanted to throw it at him, she wanted for it to be real glass and not plastic so she could hurt him. But what good would that make? for them to have matching scars?
So she took a napkin that was near her reach, made it into a ball with her hands and threw it at his face with all the force she had. The paper hit him right between the eyes but he didn't flinch, he didn't even blink.
“You could have thrown the plastic cup, it would have been more effective-”
“You don't get to do this. You don't get to hurt me and then lie to my face about loving me. Don't you think I have had enough? Don't you think I have been hurt just enough?” Her voice was breaking by now, her eyes were everywhere, going from the ceiling to the floor, to him and back to the floor. Her eyes were red and filled with tears that refused to go down her cheeks.
Dazai opened her mouth but was held down by her raising a finger at him, motioning him to shut up.
“I can take a lot, but you saying I love you without meaning it just so you can just get your way… that's just cruel. I would rather have you hitting me, throw another glass at me and make me bleed again! I prefer you physically hurting me than have you lie to me in that way.”
She was crying by now, but her eyes were full of rage. She was frowning at him, her hands still in fists like she was ready to fight.
Dazai took a step back, not because she was scared of her, but because of what he was doing. This was no longer a glass overflowing, it was turning into a hurricane.
He had not bit his cheek or tongue when he said the words he feared so much. And it terrified him, to the point where he let the black smoke that always follows him around to take over, because the truth is that he is too weak to do this. He is not strong enough to pull the trigger, to let the bomb explode. Because if he is capable of loving someone, then that means even his love hurts people, and that would devastate him.
“Come back to me, we both know that you will always return, my sweet Persephone. From the start you knew I was your fall, and still, walked towards the cliff. So why are you resisting yourself now? ” His tone was emotionless and cold, his eyes looked distant and lost, as if he was not really there.
“I had faith, you know? That you would change… not for me or because of me. I really hoped that you would get better, that we would make this right… but you can't escape your ghosts can you? Well… neither can I” Her voice was low, and shaky. Her head was pointing to the floor like she was talking to herself.
“Foolish of me to think I could outevil the Demon Prodigy” she added, raising her head. Her voice was no longer shaking, her tone was still low but each word sounded smooth like silk.
Dazai's ears were ringing, as if there were sirens inside his head telling him to stop and just walk away, but there was a heaviness in his feet that grounded him there, whispering, finish the job .
He scoffed, trying to laugh at her statement, adding gasoline to the fire that was starting to consume everything that had been built. She looked at him with eyes filled with rage, she felt insulted.
“The only reason why I didn't want to see you was because I knew that I would be mean to you. I want to scream at you and insult you. To hit you where it hurts-” She started speaking with her eyes not leaving his, her voice still calm and collected.
“Well, hit me with your best shot, that way you can get over yourself and we can start where we left off, also don't act as if it is all my fault… you have always tried to fake being Eve, hate to remind you, you have your sins too” He interrupted her with the same tone of voice she was using. Both of them were drawing their guns out.
“Oh… gloves off if this is how you want it. We had it all but you couldn't keep a promise. I am not the one who tore us apart…” Her voice was low and airy, she recited the song lyrics like they were a curse. Her eyes were glued to the floor while she spoke.
She took a deep breath and then she lifted her face. Her anger and hurt has become poison and now her eyes looked calm. Sometimes, seconds before an earthquake, the atmosphere goes blank. No birds singing, no wind flowing, no nothing. Then it strikes.
“But you are right. It is not entirely your fault, and I should have been prepared for this to happen. Never once have you tried to hide your flirty nature, and given your history I should have expected the fact that you don't know how to treat people, at all. You are too broken to understand people on an emotional level.” The words were falling out of her mouth like she was doing a presentation of a clinical case in front of her peers. It was harsh and cold. Each sentence was calculated, she was fighting dirty and she knew it.
She took a step forward. Dazai took a step back.
He tried to open his mouth but was shut down by her continuing her speech.
“I don't hold it against you, I really don't. I don't pity you either. There are things one cant help but do, and you are not ready to heal, so it's only natural to fall down old habits. Everything you touch turns into ashes, everything you hold breaks because no one taught you how to love without it being painful. I was just a casualty, I am nothing special. But neither are you, just another complicated 301.83 or F60.3” She looked like a porcelain doll, devoid of life but fueled by scorn.
Dazai felt cold shivers run down his spine, his chest hurt and his throat was getting dry. He almost did not recognize the woman in front of him. Her eyes appeared like marbles, no emotion in them, her voice monotone, and her skin looked pale. She was not there, and neither was he.
“Trying to hurt me with things I already know is not going to get you anywhere.” He responded, taking a step forward trying to steady his ground, but his legs were shaking. He didn't want to do this.
“Plus, if we are talking about old habits… What about yours? You are way too comfortable pointing out my behavioral patterns while you are actively ignoring yours. Why don't you talk about how you distract yourself with others, taking care of them so you can feel better about yourself? So you can ignore that you feel inferior? Tell me how all your other relationships were? Not so perfect now, were they?”
Dazai wanted to stop by throwing the first stone, but couldn't. The black smoke told him to throw the car off the railings and onto the cliff. His throat hurt so much he started to wonder if he wanted to cry. She was staring at him with the same lifeless eyes.
“You are right as always. I have been neglecting myself too much, all for you. Maybe I never loved you, just loved the possibility of you. What you could have been but never will. And that made me walk into yet another abusive relationship . That's on me”
She took another step forward, she was so close to the counter that she placed her elbows on the surface, lowering her face so it would rest on her hands so she could stare at Dazai directly. If someone would see her position from afar, she would look innocent, almost loving.
“So tell me… just like back when we were at the cabin… are you going to offer to off yourself too for me?”
She hated herself.
She hated herself for falling for his provocations, for keeping the fight going, for being cruel, for hitting him where it hurts. For saying that last sentence. For asking that fucked up question.
Dazai, the master of puppets, up so far in his throne, the king of emotionless faces, cracked. His eyes squinted a little, because her words stung. His eyebrows frowned, his mouth hung open, and he clutched his hands close to himself.
It was not the first time someone wished death upon him. So he could not understand why he felt so cold he was shivering. Why his chest felt so hollow that he couldn't breathe right.
He wanted this, he planned this, yet he was surprised the bridge was nothing but ashes now. The bomb exploded and there were no survivors. Everything ended.
He was no longer attached to her, because she had cut the line. Because she had pushed her to the limit so she could shred everything. All because he couldn't bring himself to do it with his own hands.
Everything went his way, and the small hope that it didn't fade away.
She looked miserable, her eyes were full of regret but she stayed unmoving. She made no movement even when Dazai took two steps back, stumbling on his own two feet a little, and then walked out of the door whispering something.
How did we get here?
The question kept repeating itself in her head. She felt nauseous. The moment the words left her mouth she wanted to take them back, she wanted to stop time and press rewind, she wanted to never speak again. But cruelty was something she was capable of, and as if it was a test, she proved herself how awful she could be.
The moment the door closed she ran up to the bathroom, barely making it to the toilet because just as her words, the acids of her stomach climbed up her throat and spilled, making a mess, burning as they came out.
She screamed and cried like a wounded child.
But this time, there was no one who would drag her into the bathtub to hold her.
She wailed until she exhausted herself, until there was no sound coming out of her mouth, until her lungs gave out on her, until she had no tears, until her head hurt so much she thought she was going to pass out.
The only thing she could do was text Kunikida, asking him to check on the bandaged man that was a couple meters from her. Asking him to clean her mess.
It was the end. The red thread connecting them both was severed and she was the one holding the scissors.
“I wish I never met you”
That was the last thing Dazai said before walking out of the door.
////
I am a liar and this is not the last chapter. I did plan to make this one the last but I think it was going to be too long and too many things going on, so the next one will indeed be the end.
this will not have a happy ending, the story itself will, but this first part not so much.
so sorry for making you go through more angst.
there are some songs I listened to while writing the chapter, so if you want to listen to them go off
Persephone- Tamino
Battle (Lets go)- Taylor Swift
For you- Delaney Bailey
I wish I never met you- Babygirl
thank you for reading
love all your comments
have a nice day
<3