Closer | Osamu D. |

PROLOGUE

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You couldn't help but acknowledge the music being played in the bar. It was somber—a beautiful violin played along with a trumpet; two instruments that were not meant to play together, but made the most beautiful music. Music to make the soul weep, to cry for their mother and father, just wanting to be heard. The music made the room reek of heartache and sorrow, a small void made to be filled by someone or something in order to uplift the soul.

"So, do you come here often?" Your thoughts, interrupted by the cheerful voice. Clearly, going about without notice to the dense atmosphere.

You side-eyed the man sitting next to you. He watched you sip your alcoholic beverage, awaiting your answer. With his charm, he was confident to swoon you—he had a way with words (so he claimed). However, he never received one and he continued to watch you drink.

You weren't in the mood to talk. You didn't want to speak to anyone, which is the exact reason you went to Lupin. Yes, it may have been a hotspot in the city, but around this time there wasn't anyone around. It was late, people had families to go back home to, they had work to finish.

However, this man seemed to be a lonely soul, looking to flourish amongst others. He just wanted someone to listen to his blabbers about God knows what. You could tell you slightly upset him by choosing to ignore his presence completely. He would go about flirting as a game—at each and every place he went, he would challenge himself to win over a woman, regardless of their relationship status. At least, that's what you assumed he was like.

To you, meeting people was like a game. You would guess their motives of talking to you before they say the actual reasoning, and most of the time you were right. Sometimes, (only if you were feeling ballsy) you would play along with their flirting, wether it was bad or good. You wouldn't let them take you home though, no matter the amount of effort they put into persuading you or how much fun you were having. You had standards.

"Sorry, miss. I guess that's my bad way of flirting." The brunette chuckled and rubbed his neck nervously. His smile bounced up a notch when he noticed you spinning your barstool to face him (with a sigh escaping from your lips). He set his drink on the counter, still with the cheery grin plastered to his face.

"It's alright. And to answer your question, yes I do." You smiled after completing your sentence, to give a friendly demeanor, allowing the man to know you were sweet as sugar and approachable. You fell for his game, giving into his attempts to question you. "Do you?"

"Not as often as I used to." He watched the ice spin in his glass as he moved it in different motions, mesmerized by it. He looked like a child playing with a kaleidoscope, watching all the different colors form into patterns and shapes seemingly like magic. "Do you work around here?"

You furrowed your brows, not expecting that personal of a question just yet. You used your foot to push your purse on the floor behind you a bit more, highly skeptical of something sinister at bay. He could be playing the game of "flirt and rob", which slightly alarmed you.

"No." You lied: your acting was impeccable. "I'm sorry, I never got your name. Mr?..."

"Dazai. Osamu Dazai. Although, drop the Mr—Dazai is perfectly fine." He said. You recognized the name, now you were definitely on high alert. Careful, you acted as if nothing bothered you. You continued to smile and go about the conversation. You notcied his bright smile had slightly faded, now more into a smirk. "And you are?"

"(Y/N)." You held your hand out, awaiting him to take it. "It's nice to meet you, Dazai."

After years of hearing Mori and Chuuya blab on and on about this infamous "Dazai" person, you finally got the chance to meet him. You wonder what made him so special that everybody who's ever heard of him praised him and his antics (except Chuuya). With the amount of times people have brought him up, you had a reoccurring thought that maybe he had casted a spell on them; a spell to make them tell everyone about all the things he's done. To keep it short, he was like the Regina George —'Mean Girls'— of the Port Mafia.

After Dazai had left, you came into the picture not even two weeks later. All of the Port Mafia was grieving the departure of Mr. "Youngest Boss in History". Meanwhile, you worked your way up the ranks and quickly became an executive, right next to Chuuya and all else. It bothered you to continuously be compared to this "Dazai". Everybody needed to wake up to realize that you aren't him, you're you. You were surprised they haven't given you an identity crisis yet.

Dazai's hand outstretched to greet yours, with that came his usual smugness. His hand stayed in contact with yours for a bit too long, you had both been staring into one another's eyes for an extended amount of time. Your hand was soft, like a baby's skin, it reminded Dazai of falling through the clouds of Heaven; the soft fluff cloaking like a blanket. He took notice to your accessories such as jewelry—he found it quite beautiful, it had suit your complexion well. He finally spoke, "You as well, Miss Executive."

"Was it really that obvious?" You pulled your hand away, maintaining a cool demeanor. You chuckled, "What gave it away?"

"Oh, come on. You don't think an ex-Port Mafia member such as myself would like to know who was my replacement?" Replacement. You didn't like the word, it repulsed you; leaving you with a distaste in your mouth. "You're not so bad, though. A fine and capable lady such as yourself wouldn't have trouble climbing her way to the top. Also, who hasn't heard of you? You're wanted all over Japan—maybe even the world! Someone with an Ability as great as yours would surely be wanted by those all over."

"I like to live life on the edge. Being wanted everywhere, sounds amazing." You shrugged your shoulders, your voice laced with sarcasm. You sounded sweet like honey slowly being dribbled from a pot: smooth, comforting.

"Well, I better get going." Dazai said as he checked his invisible watch. He stood and stretched arms, his slim fingers almost being able to touch the low ceiling. You couldn't take your eyes off of his lean figure. He was beautiful—his hair like chocolate fluff, his eyes like deep pools. He took his beige coat and flung it over his shoulder walking away from you and towards the exit. "It was nice finally meeting you, (Y/N). And give the old boss a little 'hello' for me, would you?"

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hello!

I couldn't help myself so I chose to follow through and write a Dazai fanfic. he may be slightly out of character, just a fair warning.

WARNINGS: Death, brutality, smoking, drinking & sexual content

Enjoy the read! :)