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I want clear skies and stars.
I want soft winds and quiet.
Instead, I have rage
and a bed that's too big
because you are not in it.
- Elisabeth Hewer
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Chuuya might not often seem to be the most considerate man out there, but he was truly a good friend who tended to worry about those he cared for, even if he didn't always make it obvious.
"Where are you off to, (Y/n)?" he asked, eyebrow rising in mild interest as he caught up with his partner.
She glanced at him briefly, smiling in greeting. "Training with Akutagawa," she replied.
Clicking his tongue, Chuuya shook his head. "You have too much on your plate," he commented, displeased. "This is all that bastard's fault for ditching you and his responsibilities. If you see him around again, uppercut him in the damn jaw because of how overworked you are now. Screw that, I'll punch him myself."
"When have you not wanted to punch Dazai?" she asked, amused at the redhead's indignation in her stead.
"It's his face," Chuuya informed her. "It's so annoying. I can't help but feel excessively violent." He paused, turning to peer at her with narrowed eyes. "Although I suppose you must've liked his face since you guys were a thing and shit."
She returned his gaze with a challenging one of her own. "A thing?" she repeated. "Eloquent."
Chuuya rolled his eyes, following her into the elevator. "You know what I mean, brat."
Humming, she tilted her head, considering his words. "Not really," she decided. "Dazai and I weren't really together in the sense you're implying."
He gaped at her for a second before scowling. "Are you still trying to feed me this bullshit?" he demanded. "'Not together', my ass. Do you think I missed the googly eyes you were always off making at each other? I'm your partner, dammit."
(Y/n) shrugged insincerely. "I don't know, Chuuya. I don't remember anything of that sort happening. You sure you weren't imagining it? Maybe you're too overworked as well."
For a long moment, Chuuya looked tempted to just fling her into the wall, but he refrained from doing so and resolved to ignoring his partner's shit-eating grin with great dedication. He swore that Dazai and (Y/n) both took great enjoyment in making him suffer. Why was he still sticking around, again? The answer came when (Y/n) chuckled under her breath, making his glare soften.
Right. Because, unfortunately, Chuuya actually thought of the girl as a friend, and given how hard it is to maintain any remotely positive relationship in the Mafia, he would stick by her regardless of the sometimes unbearable banter.
"Are you okay?" he asked her out of the blue, gauging her reaction carefully.
(Y/n)'s smile faded away into something a little sadder. "It's been four months, Chuuya," she reminded. "I'm okay. Don't worry about me."
"It's hard not to, dumbass," he scoffed. "You're taking the bastard's departure way too well for someone who was practically in love with him."
She rolled her eyes but didn't bother correcting him. "Of course, I miss him, but I'm happy he left." When Chuuya furrowed his eyebrows in confusion, she explained, "Dazai's looking for something he never would've found here. And maybe he will never find it, but at least he's in a better place by searching anyways. Contrary to what everyone thought, he didn't belong here."
Snorting, Chuuya readjusted his hat. "Does anyone ever really belong here?"
(Y/n) glanced at him in her peripheral vision. "We do."
"Wrong." He shook his head. "I do. You don't."
Deciding that it would be safer to remain silent, (Y/n) merely shrugged insincerely once again and stepped out of the elevator, leaving Chuuya to sigh as the elevator doors closed behind her. He didn't know what he was going to do with that dumbass.
When Dazai's betrayal had been discovered, everyone had been shocked. There had been no warnings from his end. Nothing that gave away he ever even thought about leaving until he was already gone. The only two who'd been unfazed were Mori and (Y/n). Naturally, she'd been taken in for interrogation on suspicion of being an accomplice in Dazai's getaway, but (Y/n) had only admitted that while she hadn't known for sure, she thought he might pull some sort of stunt following Oda Sakunosuke's death.
Given Mori's lack of surprise as well, she'd been let off easily enough because he'd thought the same, and mostly because they had no evidence that proved her a liar.
Still, what worried Chuuya was how quickly (Y/n) had made her peace with Dazai's absence. Sure, she'd grown more reserved and work oriented, but one would expect her to be a little more upset. At first, he'd thought she was putting up a front for appearance's sake, but she didn't drop it even when it was just her and Chuuya.
As much as he hated to admit it, Dazai had become an ingrained part of his own life. There were moments he'd turn to yell something at the dark-haired young man during a mission only to be met with empty space. Before he could ever admit to himself that he might just slightly miss the asshole, however, Chuuya always broke out a new bottle of wine. He didn't need to veer into such dangerous territory and give the bastard that kind of satisfaction.
It made him wonder about how much loss (Y/n) felt and how long she would be able to maintain this bravado he called bullshit on.
Rather than acknowledging her own emotions, she'd ended up consoling Akutagawa instead. The boy had taken the news of his mentor leaving harder than most and (Y/n) really didn't want to see him channel that into resentment that would only damage him further. She had requested to be put in charge of overseeing the completion of his training, teaching him with the kind of patience that Dazai had seen as a waste of time.
(Y/n) couldn't say she'd learned in the best of environments either. In fact, her first instructors had been equally or more demanding than Dazai was with Akutagawa. But she wasn't capable of inflicting that particular brand of physical and mental violence on anyone else after having to live through it herself. She tried to echo Aries's teachings instead, forcing Akutagawa to stray from traditional ideals of offense and defense, and instead emphasizing on adapting. More than just unlocking all the aspects of his ability, she pushed him to mastering what he knew thus far.
It threw Akutagawa off kilter to be thrust into such a different style of teaching, but he didn't complain. He respected (Y/n) as well, and basked in the occasional praise she tossed his way. It only served to fuel his resentment for Dazai, though, knowing that his ex-mentor left behind the woman Akutagawa had come to look up to and even trust. (Y/n) had treated someone as undeserving as Akutagawa with concern and had taken him under her wing, and it all only convinced the boy that Dazai Osamu didn't deserve anything but her ire.
Except, (Y/n) didn't seem to hold any sort of vengeance for her ex-partner and it only puzzled Akutagawa.
For her part, she knew that everyone was expecting more of a reaction from her in the long term, but (Y/n) couldn't bring herself to put on a show. Missing Dazai didn't happen all at once in the middle of some hallway with such intensity that it would have her fighting back tears or rage. It happened in small moments that left her feeling hollow with an ache for something she knew she was no longer allowed to have.
She had been trying to ignore the moments of loneliness that seemed to lurk around the corners in wait for her. Perhaps filling up all of her free time with something to do wasn't the right way to go about dealing with it, but for now, it was all she could think of doing.
The nights were the worst in her opinion. Her apartment was filled with traces of Dazai-- his clothes in her dresser, the extra toothbrush and pair of slippers which he had claimed, and his favorite brand of sake in her fridge. Her bed felt too large without his warmth wrapped around her like another blanket.
Yokohama itself felt larger and foreign when it was just her walking its streets alone. Nevertheless, she often took to wandering to wherever caught her fancy as a means of distraction, finding solace in the idea of getting lost and escaping the endless loop of unfamiliarity in the familiar things that was forcing its way into her routine. Of course, her increased nightly presence meant more time spent watching over the kids on the street, and they were quickly becoming her favorite part of the day.
So, she wasn't exactly fine, but she was holding up and she thought she might even be okay until she'd catch a glimpse of dark curls around the corner on a particularly lonely night and her heart would plummet right into her abdomen when she realized it was just a figment of her imagination.
But healing took time, and soon enough, she would get used to life without Dazai. For now, however, she wished for shorter nights and lesser bridges to cross so she wouldn't have to face the reminder of what she could no longer have.
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How strange
To dream of you
Even when
I am wide awake.
-d.j
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