Dazai Osamu x Chuuya Nakahara Fanfiction Book

Petals (incomplete)

(Hellooooo

Soooo.... This WAS going to be another short short fic with just one scene... but then I got super inspired and took like a month to write this monster fic bcuz a plot formed in my head and I couldn't just NOT write it :D so enjoy this ig

WARNING ⚠️: the main plot will be about Dazai's past child molestation with Mori, and I won't get too much into the details of describe the abuse itself that much, but I'll just be showing you all the after effects of how he is growing up, and what that did to him. In a way, this fic will be just for me to vent out my own feelings from my own experiences... but sometimes it's nice for me to get all of that out soo... :)))

This will be a Dazai centric fic, and Skk will be one of the main elements to the story. And this fic isn't going to be scary or thrilling or anything. I actually am aiming for it to be more serene and calm. Knowing that monsterous things happened in the past, but now life is more calmer than before. I think I'll have the plot start off with Mori being killed or sum idk.

ANYWAYS ENJOY <33)

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Mildly-tall grass swayed breezily in the wind. The green hues of the plant seeping out of the city's sidewalk's cracks shined underneath the Sun's ever-growing rays. Though, the rays would only strike the grass here and there, due to the Sun being covered up by a few large and gray clouds trailing off in the sky, blanketing the city in this uneven pattern.

Across from the grass, down the center and to the side of the walkway, laid a large and spruce-wooden bench.

And— on that bench, sat a man.

The man was grimacing a bit at the sight of the grass, the way the flowers around it were slightly closed off and curling in on themselves as they slowly danced from side-to-side in the Spring's breeze.

Spring.

Man— Dazai hates Spring.

It was his least favorite season, in all honesty.

He didn't like it, any of it.

He didn't like the way the mud would slowly start to soften from winter, sticking to the soles of his shoes and getting all over his living room's carpeted and fancy floor. Or the way the clouds would cover more than half of the Sun, blocking those bright, nice, and hot rays from hitting his pale skin.

But— most of all, he hated the flowers.

They would always curl in on themselves, hiding their inner and real-beauty from the world and not showing their true potential to bloom so perfectly under those nice and hot UV rays. It always set an uncomfortable feeling in his throat, and sometimes— he'd find it hard to swallow correctly when thinking about that specific concept.

Today was not some special day, nor would it be different from yesterday or tomorrow. The brunette had just gotten done with some case with the ADA, aiding to Atsushi's side for a bit too long because they dealt with a rather... graphic murder today. He needed to be there by his kouhai's side to help him get through the case without puking at the sight of the citizen's dismembered body.

But now—

—he sits here, on a bench. To the side of Yokohama's cracked sidewalks, his long legs crossed as he patiently sat and watched the closed-daisies sway and do this little waltz with the tall-grass in the slightly-cool breeze. His hands rested in his lap, phone in his pocket, and the only music playing in his ears at the moment are the sounds of birds chirping songs towards one another atop the many branches of the trees sitting here and there along the wide city-road.