--- Misconceptions ---

Complicated Choices Ch. 5

razarye_

After Dazai left the Port Mafia at age 18, he left his boyfriend (also a Mafia executive) behind. The turmoil and betrayal that someone felt was never mentioned, nor exposed, after that fateful night. It was safe to say that the two fated souls have never quite matched since then. The trust wasn't as blinding, the emotions were never completely care. The uncertainty and distrust cost them greatly.
Which is why when they were paired up again, they had lost that intimate level of coordination they had when they were 18.

The time that they spent separated while carrying the remnants of the harsh heartbreak, was a time of moderate personal growth. Instead of growing alongside each other and admiring each other's attributes while doing so, they were left in their own company.
It wasn't rewarding.

Chuuya's now rare fashion sketches became mere outlines and shadows of the man he used to know. The glasses of wine would disappear as quickly as a shooting star and would provide that hope and relief which had been taken.
But Dazai? Dazai was left to ruin and decay. Being left to his own devices was a recipe for destruction. The darkness in his mind gave that artistic relief and outlet he used to indulge in during his youth but later revered. Substances also cursed him with the light floaty freedom he desperately craved, a combination that was addictively deadly.
Throughout their identity death, the few sketches of Chuuya that randomly appeared during some sporadic moments were enough for one to keep going, and the other to resist the drowning urge to avoid and erase their existence entirely.

It wasn't until one stormy, snowy skied evening, basked in moonlight merely 6 months ago, that the fated pair laid eyes on one another again.
It had been their anniversary.
If the two had continued to be together from when they were 17, they would've hit their 5 years of loyalty.

It was February.

The moonlight was cascading down the river, illuminating not only its dark waters, but the crushed gravel and growing grass on the bank, both of which were recovering from the harsh winter. The water produced its gentle waves to carry the calming cool breeze, the temperature was borderlining a negative zero.
As the night was a time to be reborn, the air was being cleansed, the cold temperature clearing a stranger's polluted lungs.
As an individual, their footsteps echoed in the night as a lone sound - their shoe broke the gravel beneath until they came to a stop.
This was a time of mourning what was lost.
Shadows were cast by obscure structures behind him, but the brunet could only focus on the light - Its glow being a sparse source of comfort in his misunderstood existence, grieving what had been lost.

Dazai's face that evening portrayed one of solemn reflection and longing. It wasn't full of regret or sorrow; he can live with his merciless curse to hurt all those he cares about, instead he just wished childishly, that the one whose heart he so violently destroyed, would be okay. He didn't expect or foolishly hope for forgiveness, it was just a distant dream in his mind - one he would never dwell on, and would instead, lock in a box at the back of his consciousness.

"I'm honestly surprised a bastard like you looks so solemn, you never had a heart so why the fuck are you here"
Dazai's eyes briefly widened before returning to his usual cold, surprisingly/ for once uncalculated gaze - not noticeable to the eye - to everyone else excluding his previous partner, his honest other half, Chuuya Nakahara. He turned his head to the origin of the unequivocally unmistakable voice.

There, in front of him, stood the stunning figure.
The man's vibrant ginger hair was being blown in the breeze, but still remained in virtually perfect form. His face held more structure now, and there was the distinct smell of oak and cinnamon mixed distinctly with Chuuya Nakahara's signature brand of cigarettes.
His overwhelming presence was calming to the burnet despite his brash personality.
"Delightful evening for a stroll don't you think?! The river was just calling my name you know"
Despite a somewhat casual response, it lacked its usual level of enthusiasm. He knew he could lie and mask this encounter, but truely, the brunet didn't want to fully conform to that temptation. There was a mild yearning for truth, one that both individuals couldn't deny.
"Why here Dazai"
They both knew what they were asking.