Reminiscence

Everywhere

"Why are you here?" 

The question was dry.

"You should know." he answered, without backing out. She was giving him chills. But for once, Dazai didn't really enjoy the possibility of someone wanting to kill him, even if they had not means to do so.

She stared at him for a moment, merely holding his gaze, scrutinizing him inch by inch. The brunet knew she wasn't happy with him being there. But he couldn't just give up. He couldn't just turn around. As much as she wanted him to, he couldn't.

After all, he promised him. He promised Oda that he'd take care of her. Would it be so bad to be a little selfish as well, if the opportunity was given?

She raised her chin. Her gaze was still sharp. 

"I know." 

It wasn't like she viewed him as a threat, he noticed. It wasn't that she hated Dazai per say. But he had been the one bringing her the news. He had been the one who crumbled down her world without even needing to speak. And that made her, rightfully or not, want him away from her.

"But I don't want your protection. Even as a means for him to protect me from beyond the grave."

Dazai looked around, inviting himself into her apartment. It was still just like it had been years ago, when he last spoke to her. And despite his intrusion, she made no move to physically drag him out. As if she knew that he too needed some sort of further confirmation that Oda was still present. Even if only in memories.

"I know. But I promised him."

I promised myself.

There was a silence. And then a choked sob. And then a thud.

He didn't need to turn around to know she was collapsed on the floor, sobbing her heart out silently for her lover who departed too soon. After all, he was still everywhere in that apartment. From the pictures on the furniture, to the books on the shelves, to the scent of the space. It was all him. To the point it couldn't be distinguished where his touches to the small room stopped and started hers. He was still too real to her, as if her soul never let his go. 

And maybe that was so. She still held onto him, even after two years. She went to his grave everyday, holding the same conversations with him she did when he was still with them. As if by doing so, she sew their souls together until they mingled into one.

"Do you still see him?" she asked, so lightly it could've escaped him.

Dazai sighed. To anyone else, it could be his grave, visions, or his ghost, even. But he knew what she meant by that. Because it was all that. More than that.

It was the way he'd look at them. It was the way he took care of them. It was the way he tidied after himself. It was the way he died. It was how he lied in that coffin. It was the piece of stone with his name carved. It was the way they felt like they felt him judge their attachment all the time despite wanting to cross the border in piece.

Dazai turned to her. She was still crying. He wasn't sure how he should handle it.

He crouched down in front of her. He didn't move to wipe away her tears, despite how much he wanted to do so. He also didn't embrace her. Not when he knew that there was only one person she wanted to do those things for her.

"Everywhere."