He was just a boy searching for a reason to go through the darkest night. And she was a girl trying to light up other people's lives. Yet, in each other, they found a home to watch the sunrise in the morning sky.
[bungo stray dogs ── dazai osamu]
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DAZAI WAS ALL ALONE IN his office, seated with his legs on the desk. In his hands, something unusual: a newspaper with a little sticky note, replacing his dear and famous red book that was resting in one of his coat pockets.
He smirked to himself, opening the journal and searching for a specific article. It was signed as Hani Motoko, but he knew very well who was the real author. After all, he learned a lot about (Y/N) Gellhorn in the last few weeks.
Since the day he intruded himself on her plans of saving those women, they became quite familiar.
It all started when the boy went to the Yokohama Bay Bridge one night. He had the habit of going there alone and seat under the bridge, letting the loneliness fill him while his mind navigated under his agony and the apathetic feeling of never belonging.
He knew it was a foolish attempt to run away from himself and, in the end, the truth was that he still felt hunted by his existence.
On that night, (Y/N) went after him. Her heart was craving for the harmony she felt in their brigade, wanting the closeness they shared back then.
The girl was aware of the fact that his mind was a puzzled troubled one, but her intuition was telling her that there was more to know about him. In his eyes, she saw fire and violence, but there was so much pain too; something that resembled a scared child who witnessed more than could bear.
So, (Y/N) sat beside him and started talking about the first thing that came to her mind. It was something about tofu and apple pie, her favorite foods, and how she liked them. He didn't say anything but was grateful to have someone distracting him.
The two teenagers started meeting on the bridge, always at dawn. They spent hours sitting on the grass, talking about frivolities as they unraveled each other, watching the content of the conversations getting denser little by little.
At first, Dazai kept going to kill time. He craved to be drowned in the presence of anyone who saw him as strange, not having to face his emptiness while the clocks advanced. In these few hours, he could ignore his turbulent inner self, playing the role of a human.
It was easier to let (Y/N)'s personality consume him than face the nightmares and truths the night air brought.
However, as the days advanced, he became attached to her. The way she just let him talk about nothing in particular and still paid attention, smiling as if everything that he said was fascinating or just funny, but never disturbing; Dazai spoke about his terrible cooking skills and his stupid attempts of suicide, always with his childish manners, but the girl didn't judge him once.
(Y/N) only let him be, night after night, making the boy wonder if she could see his true nature or notice the agony he desperately tried to hide. Until one night, on impulse, she held his hand and let her thumb lightly brush his skin, filling the air with her sadness.
