The Marionette • Chuuya X Reader

2022 December Special

A very short mini chapter special starring atsushi.

•••

"You said we could have been friends. Is that still true?"

You stare at Atsushi, his eyes changing colours with the lights decorating the city plaza, cheeks and nose a rosy colour from the cold. His white hair is dotted with tiny snowflakes that had only just begun to fall, light frosty winds ruffling his already uneven hair. He's wearing a long, grey winter coat with some black boots and black earmuffs; simple winter attire that suits him well. 

It had been a long time since you'd last seen Atsushi, yet still he had this innocent, hopeful look to him, hidden beneath it an anguish you also carried within. He was a familiarity. Even though you had insisted on not speaking to him again that day outside headquarters.

In another life perhaps.

"...yes. We could have." You respond, because running now would look quite silly. He wasn't threatening you, and the both of you had clearly met up only by coincidence and outside of business hours. Neither had an ulterior motive.

It's a few days before the new year, and you had finally found a moment in the evening to buy a couple of things for certain people, blending in with the bustling marketplace and meaning to move quickly. The weather is mild for the winter season, but still the coldness of the winds sticks to all bare skin it can find. The setting sun occasionally pokes out of the clouds, but it brings no warmth along with it.

"Would you consider it now?" Atsushi tilts his head in an anticipative question that tells you exactly what answer he'd like.

You remember when you first ran into him, his warmth in the storm, his sympathy and his kindness. You also remember the look in his eyes when he found out what you were — a pained bewilderment. Dazai's face in the midst of those memories is re-carved into clarity, like a knife to a healed wound with ugly scars. Flashes of the past few years feels like multiple tiny needles being stabbed into your skin, body suddenly growing hot and heart rage rising.

You suddenly feel queasy as you stare at Atsushi, face losing colour as you struggle to answer such a simple question. No matter how much time passed, some things you couldn't let go.

Atsushi meant a connection to Dazai's current life, and you wanted no part of that.

"I can't." You say softly, breath visible in the cold.

"Why not?"

"You're too close to him."

"[f/n]-"

You interrupt Atsushi by taking a hold of his shoulders with a firm, pleading grip, shaking your head while your eyes mirror his sadness.

No.

At least not now.

"Atsushi...find me again, in this life or the next." You murmur, pulling him into a hug and for some reason tearing up as if you'd lost something, a part of your heart being overcome by sudden grief. You don't cry, but you feel the tears at the back of your throat begging to be let out.

Through the coat, Atsushi's body is warm, his smaller frame sinking into yours as both of you have your arms wrapped around each other in some sort of mutual apology. The sounds of the crowd around you melts together in a low hum, and the flashing lights settle into one unified, warm glow, snow continuing to fall silently. It feels as if the world has slowed down, and the only two people that matter are you two.

"I'm sorry. I should have helped you more then." Atsushi whispers, and when he does you pull away from him, cupping his face with your hands. His eyes widen and his cheeks — already pink and bitten from the frost — turn a deeper red, eyes wide with the lights making them glitter.

"It's not your fault. I only wanted to be helped by one person." You sigh and give him a small smile.
"I'm sorry I wasn't honest." You add with a murmur, loosening your hold on him.

When you let go, Atsushi has disappeared out of your line of sight with a mere blink, which makes you wonder if you had seen him at all, or if your confused heart still yearned for that forgiveness of the innocent. The prolonged feeling of loss in your heart tells you it hadn't been a delusion, it had been real, but that's what they were supposed to feel like. It's what they always felt like.

Your eyes drift down to the bags you had forgotten were in your hand, wondering where they had been only a moment ago, the small gifts you intended to bring back to headquarters for a select few shining under the decorative tissue paper.

Lost in thought, you don't hear footsteps approaching until the person's hand is already on your shoulder, to which you react with a jump and a quick, reflexive hold of the persons wrist, adrenaline shooting through you ready to defend yourself. It only takes meeting the person's eyes with your own to immediately recognize him, dropping your guard completely.

"Chuuya." You sigh in relief, face heating up and heart fluttering as if you were seeing him for the first time all over again.

Chuuya smiles, reaching over to your head to gently and affectionately brush some snowflakes off your hair.

"You were taking too long, I was starting to miss you." Chuuya chuckles as you hit his shoulder with a roll of your eyes, trying to hide your smile.

Amidst the teasing, Chuuya takes your hand in his as it leaves his shoulder, your hand immediately relaxing in his familiar, strong hold as he rubs his thumb at the back of your palm. You want to melt, taking in the way the snow hangs at the brim of his hat, his orange hair contrasting the cool, winter light, blue eyes unwaveringly on you.

"Are you ok?" Chuuya suddenly asks, waves of worry disrupting the calm ocean of his irises, his gentle hold on your hand turning into a squeeze. You can almost forget the man in front of you is one of the most dangerous mafiosi you know.

"Yes. Why?" You ask, your previous smile turning into a bit of frown, your eyes flitting to the side in worry.

It only dawns on you then that something was wrong.

You blink and the scene around you changes.

You're in a Yokohama alleyway, hands aching with bruised knuckles and blood splattered over your long winter coat, the mild temperatures suddenly turning into harsh, freezing winds, your lungs burning as they try to catch their breath. Eyes wide and in a frenzy, seeing red, you search for an explanation, something to make sense—

"[f/n]!" Chuuya's voice echoes in your ears, but you can't see him. Desperately you try to wipe the blood off your hands as you walk through the alleyway, moving towards the sound of his voice.

A sharp pain erupts near your rib cage, and in a desperate attempt to uncover the source of the pulsing agony, you unbutton your coat and see blood spilling on to your white blouse. Gasping and falling to your knees, you begin to cry in exasperation and confusion.

Everything was ok.

Everything was ok.

What is happening?