The Wild Geese || DAZAI OSAMU/CHUUYA NAKAHARA

[二十五] ODASAKU, IN REMEMBRANCE.

The two of you chat for a moment longer, each second savoured like wine by Chuuya. He finds a strange camaraderie with you; it was comfortable, beyond professional, and somewhat intimate. He sees flecks of himself in you: what was it that made someone a human, and not some third party creature? For you, you had teeth in your heart that prevented him from getting too close, but he did enjoy the snaps of fangs when he came too close. You had fangs sharpened by Mori, fastened onto your jaws, drawing blood with each word. He finds you only to lose you to reality; lost in your own history. But he knew you loved sweet—there was a gentleness he knew people like you had. It was because violence had been beaten into you, gentleness was the other side of that fruit.

"I'm gonna get going," You say after a while. Chuuya checks his gold watch; 6:07 PM.

"Yeah, it's nearing your bedtime, isn't it?" He teases, half drunk and half sober. You snort, pocketing your cigarette box. It rustles in your pants pocket.

"Something like that," You say, offhandedly.

"We should meet up like this more often," Chuuya comments. "Had a good time?"

"Something like that," You repeat, your voice bland of any tone.

"I'm gonna stay here for a bit longer," He says. "Would walk you home but you don't need me, do you?"

"Nope."

"Be seeing you, then." Chuuya waves you off and you nod, turning away from him and opening the doors.

The moment you step outside, your phone rings. You don't even look at the caller's name and immediately accept the call.

"Hello?"

"Hello~" Dazai's voice flows from the other side of the phone.

"What do you need from me?"

"Ah, practical and tactical as always," He sings. "Kasumi sends his thanks and regards. The burial went well—you've convinced them that you're on their side."

"Who's 'them'?"

"The Dead Eyes," He says, as matter-of-factly. "The organisation that you're now affiliated with. My, it must be troublesome, with one foot in the Port Mafia and the other in The Dead Eyes."

You examine your nails. "I've experienced worse."

"I know you have," He says. "You must have experienced hell."

"Not just hell," You snorted. The vodka was beginning to loosen your mouth. "Superhell, more like."

"Another term next to Darkplace?"

"Nah. Darkplace is legit. Too real. Superhell is just something I made up right now," You say. "Why'd you call?"

"To be frank, to apologise for punching your nose in."

You subconsciously reach up and rub the bridge of your nose. "You did a number on me."

"I can imagine that," He says. His voice has lost its suspicious tone, and is clean and pure. And that makes you slightly uncomfortable—who in their right mind would trust someone like you? "I hope you don't take it personally, but I was in the right."

"Yeah you were," You say, in a tone that would almost constitute as apologetic. "My bad for snitching."

"It's alright. I've forgiven you long ago," He says. "It's what Odasaku would have wanted."

"Right," You say. You walk towards your car, phone pressed between your ear and shoulder, and open the door. You climb in. "Why don't you tell me about this Odasaku fella?"