Soukoku One-Shots

Death & Destruction Pt. 2

Alternate Universe

Most of the time, Chuuya was very busy.

Destruction was a common occurrence across Greece, so he was always rushing from one place to the next, causing chaos (warranted or otherwise) and keeping the people on their toes.

He didn't feel particularly guilty about any of that, either. It was his job. Being the God of Destruction meant uprooting comfort and familiarity, so that's exactly what he did. And besides, it wasn't like that was all he did. He was also the god of passion, desire, anger; big, boisterous feelings that demanded heavy weight. He embodied determination, obsession, want. The joys of life! The things that made it so colorful and people so lively. It took a lot of work to make them that way.

However, there were some days when Chuuya was able to relax—very few, but they came along now and again. He usually spent them with his sister, Kouyou, because they were both busy enough most of the time that they didn't get to spend much time together, but it was a special day for her and Yosano, so he decided not to disturb them.

Instead, Chuuya found himself walking on a grassy hillside, basking in the sunshine and cool ocean breeze. Without any responsibility weighing down on his shoulders, he felt like he could fully enjoy the rolling hills and crashing waves—most of the time, he only mindlessly passed them by.

He was thinking about all of these things, humming idly and looking out to the sea, when he suddenly felt a pull.

Not a physical pull, something so shallow as by skin. This came from beneath, like a primal urge tugging on the fabrics of his soul. It pulled, and that was when Chuuya noticed the figure in the corner of his eye.

Death stared back at him.

A dark, hollow gaze bore into Chuuya—it wasn't heavy, but scrutinizing in a way Chuuya didn't know how to describe—and against such vibrant grass and wildflowers, he looked like a corpse. Pale skin, hollow cheeks, lips twisted up into a thoughtful sort of look.

He recognized the God of Death, though his name escaped Chuuya. He was the ultimate order in the world, keeping life itself in line.

It was everything Chuuya himself contradicted.

"Oi. You just gonna stare?"

And he did. As Chuuya approached him, and as they learned each others' names—Dazai Osamu, and it sounded like a haunting melody in his ears—he continued to stare. He studied Chuuya, raking his eyes up and down and up again. Chuuya found that curious. There were very few who could look Chaos in the eye and even fewer who could stand it.

Dazai called out, voice carried by the breeze: "Come to the Underworld and be mine."

Chuuya blinked once, twice, thrice.

And then he laughed.

Dazai didn't say anything as Chuuya laughed, bending over himself in a fit as he clutched his stomach, because how ridiculous was that? A god like him, tied to a place like that? To a person like that?

Chuuya stood up straight again as he began to collect himself, snorting and shaking his head. "I can't believe that," he snickered.

He watched Dazai blink, looking momentarily confused. Devilishly handsome, though, even this close.

"Who do you think you are?"

"Lost," was his immediate answer, dark eyes glinting with something Chuuya couldn't read. "I've been searching... ah, for power. And a muse."