Dazai Osamu x Chuuya Nakahara Fanfiction Book

Two Feathers - part 2

(Continuation from part 1!!

Sorry the update to this story is so late— I got a bit stuck on it towards the end and there's going to be a part 3 as well. But I'm trying to get back on track with it so I don't discontinue it like a lame author 😩

Also ⚠️ , this contains the same warnings as the first part such as mentions and evictions of sexual assault along with the addiction to illegal substances to underage teens. Along with a few sexual implications towards the beginning. Don't read if that may trigger you.

Enjoy!)

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The same day— the day Chuuya told his mother the truth of his past, he went home as well.

His mother of course protested to that, and she insisted many, many times that he stay at her own place overnight, and that he wasn't in the right state of mind at the moment— but he didn't listen.

After letting all that out, to his mother?

He needed to be alone.

He needed to think.

He needed time, to collect his thoughts together and just organize himself.

That night, they never actually said the very feared that they both dreaded, but they both just knew what happened to him.

It was just like an instinct, a family one and one of their bond.

So— now Chuuya is back at his own apartment, across town from his mother's. Still in the city— but still so far from his family.

He walked into his home, and he settled down on his bed, laying upright as he stared up and to the blank, popcorn-textured ceiling.

He closed his glossy and teary eyes, and he just wanted to escape.

Just— everything.

He wanted to escape everything.

He thought that when he would've told someone what happened, somehow— things would just get better.

Like, if he told his mother about what happened and stopped lying to her, then life would just get a hella lot easier.

But— tonight, he found out...

...that is not the case.

He found out, that no matter what he does, no matter where he goes, and no matter who he tells...

...it will never get better.

No matter what happens, the damage has already been done.

The memory of that night can't just be magically wiped away from his mind, and it can't just be undone.

A feather— once you squish it up, demolish it, pluck it of all its barbs, and throw it to the ground, it cannot be undone.

It can't be fixed.

It's just... broken.

Forever.