Falling

Bonus 4 - Talking with a ghost

AN: Here am I again, a year or so late... This chapter is taking place between the incident with Dazai and Chuuya and their last meeting before the mission Chuuya's been sent to. It is short, but I hope you'll enjoy it regardless.

Dazai watched his reflection in the mirror as he carefully wrapped his bandages. He covered his left eye so he could only see darkness on it. Every day he watched it, a reminder of a darkness within him and the one he spreads further. Right eye may be free, may see the light, but it meant nothing when he himself felt none of its boon, none of its joy. Even when he desired to let himself be free for only a moment, his cruel mind shut that feeling, killed it, reminding his heart he shouldn't. 

His goal was most important. So many times he had tried. So many times he had failed. Not him in being, but him in mind. He still could remember that day when he was a month before his 17th birthday, when everything led him and made him find the Book and hold it in his hands. When all the memories of past himselfs had passed before his eyes, when he became aware of the task bestowed upon him, the one that cursed him and many others. But he had to do it, no matter what.

If this universe was the only one where Odasaku gets to be happy and alive and writing his book, fulfilling his dreams away from the Mafia, then Dazai will make sure it prevails. After all, it was all fake, not real. No person was real, no memory was. 

He wasn't real.

Even now, he failed to suppress the sickness twisting his guts and a forbidden thought again came to mind.

If all this isn't real, then why am I doing it?

Because it is the only way. The Book has power.

But it's only a book. The original universe is real. This is not. Then why am I...

He let out a frustrated growl, throwing the bandage on the floor. He wanted to break something. To shatter the glass, the porcelain, to see something break by his fury and pain. 

Nothing mattered, the world is fake, he reminded himself over and over, chanting it like a mantra in his head. 

No one was real, they were simple caricatures of people that truly exist. 

Then why did he feel guilt? Why did he feel bad for hurting them when he knew they weren't real?

With a shuddering breath, he picked up the bandages and started doing his work again. He covered his eye again and meticulously wrapped the white straps around his head and neatly tied the ends. Ruffling his hair, he adjusted his bangs to fall over it. Satisfied at least, he closed his eyes and inhaled and exhaled tiredly, yet determined. Another day, each closer to his finish.

"Such a pity," a lone voice spoke. It was a sad, even regretful one, the one that wraps deep in one's heart. Dazai froze upon hearing it, his eyes opening wide in shock.

"Covering a left eye that used to see many things in your past," the voice continued.

Hands cold and shaking, Dazai finally got the strength to move his gaze to the side of the mirror to see a reflection of the man who spoke.

"What do you want now?" he whispered.

The man's eyes sharpened, a disapproving frown on his face. 

"So many times I've been there and tried to advise you, yet you've always pushed me from your dreams and your consciousness. But you only make things worse for yourself that way. You resist and ignore to your heart's content without realizing I'd find a way to get to you in the end," the man said, eyes firm and icy.

In response, Dazai shut his eyes and smiled wryly. He shook his head and looked at the mirror again.

"You are not here. You never were. You are dead, a ghost of my own mind that is slowly creeping into insanity."