BSD One-Shots

Dazai And Chuuya's Heartache

Hanahaki Disease : A fictional disease that people suffer from when they experience unrequited love/if you think they won't like you back, Hanahaki is a terminal disease.

Hanahaki Disease Stages : There are 3 stages to Hanahaki Disease

Stage 1 : Buds are coughed up and scratching at the back of their throat.

Stage 2 : Petals and buds are coughed up and spots of blood and shortage of breath.

Stage 3 : Full flowers and leaves, even more blood regurgitates and more shortage of breath

Hanahaki Disease Cure : Hanahaki Disease can be cured if the loved one returns the love of the one with the disease if can also be cured by surgery, but this cure often means that the person will lose their feelings for the person they love (a double-edged sword that amps up the drama). Alternatively, the person being operated on will lose all memory or partial memories of the person.

Ship - Soukoku

AU - Hanahaki Disease

Includes - Angst and Fluff

After knowing Dazai for a few years now, Chuuya had gotten used to his antics and how he acted and thought. Once Chuuya turned 18, he started to take a little too much liking to Dazai and began to catch feelings for his partner in crime. It was an odd sensation for him, the way his heart would race and his thoughts would wander whenever Dazai was around. The sharp, often biting banter they shared became something he looked forward to, something that made his days in the Port Mafia a little brighter.

Chuuya could still remember the first time he realized his feelings went beyond mere partnership or friendship. It was during a mission, one of those high-risk, high-reward types that Dazai seemed to thrive on. They were cornered, outnumbered, and outgunned. Chuuya, ever the combatant, was ready to go down fighting, but Dazai had that glint in his eye, the one that meant he had a plan. And he did. With his usual flair and disregard for personal safety, Dazai managed to turn the tables, and they escaped with their lives.

As they lay panting on the rooftop, hearts still pounding from the adrenaline, Dazai looked at him and laughed. It wasn't a mocking laugh but a genuine one, filled with relief and camaraderie. In that moment, with the city lights spread out below them and the night sky above, Chuuya felt something shift inside him. He realized that Dazai was more than just a partner to him. He was someone he cared about deeply, someone he couldn't bear to lose.

But then, Dazai left the Port Mafia. He left without a word, without a hint of his intentions. One day he was there, the next he was gone, and all that remained was the wreckage of Chuuya's car, a final parting gift from the enigmatic man. Chuuya was heartbroken. It felt like a piece of him had been ripped away, leaving a gaping void. But he was proud, stubborn even. He hid his feelings well, acted as if Dazai's departure didn't affect him. In public, he was the same tough, unflappable Chuuya. But in the privacy of his home, he would cry his eyes out, the tears refusing to stop no matter how hard he tried to hold them back.

What Chuuya didn't know was that Dazai didn't say anything to him because he didn't want to lose someone else he was close to. Dazai had his own demons, his own reasons for leaving, and he thought that by cutting ties cleanly, he would spare Chuuya the pain of his inevitable self-destruction. He didn't realize that his departure would cause both of them to suffer in ways they couldn't imagine.

Time passed, and the pain of Dazai's absence dulled but never fully disappeared. Chuuya threw himself into his work, trying to fill the void with missions and responsibilities. But there were moments, quiet moments, when the memories would come rushing back, and he would be overwhelmed by the sense of loss and longing.

One day, Chuuya started to notice something strange. It began with a slight cough, nothing too alarming. But the cough persisted, growing more frequent and more painful. He tried to ignore it, chalking it up to stress or maybe a cold. But then he started coughing up flower buds and petals, delicate and crimson, stained with his blood. He knew what it was immediately—Hanahaki Disease. A cruel, twisted manifestation of unrequited love, it was a death sentence if the feelings remained unresolved.

Dazai, too, found himself suffering from the same affliction. Despite his best efforts to move on, to forget, he couldn't shake the memories of Chuuya, the fiery redhead who had wormed his way into his heart. The petals he coughed up were a constant reminder of what he had lost, of the love he had abandoned in his quest for self-preservation.

Unbeknownst to each other, they both sought a cure, a way to rid themselves of the disease that was slowly killing them. Chuuya, ever the fighter, refused to succumb. He scoured the underworld for answers, desperate for anything that could save him. Dazai, with his connections and his cunning, did the same, though his approach was more subtle, more cautious.

Their paths inevitably crossed. It was a chance encounter, one that neither of them could have anticipated. Chuuya was in a seedy part of town, following a lead on a possible cure, when he saw him. Dazai, looking just as he remembered but with an air of weariness, of melancholy that hadn't been there before. Their eyes met, and for a moment, everything else faded away.

"What are you doing here?" Chuuya demanded, his voice harsher than he intended. The sight of Dazai stirred up all the old feelings, the anger, the hurt, the love.

"I could ask you the same," Dazai replied, his tone calm but his eyes betraying a flicker of emotion. "But I think we both know the answer."

Chuuya's heart clenched. He wanted to lash out, to make Dazai feel the pain he had caused. But more than that, he wanted to understand. "Why did you leave, Dazai? Why didn't you say anything?"

Dazai sighed, running a hand through his hair. "I thought it would be easier that way. For both of us."

"Easier?" Chuuya's voice cracked. "You think this was easy? You think I wanted to cough up flowers and die?"

"I didn't know," Dazai admitted, his voice softening. "I didn't know it would come to this, Chuuya. I thought... I thought I was sparing you."

"Sparing me?! You idiot," Chuuya said, tears welling up in his eyes. "I would rather have faced anything with you than to be left alone again."

Dazai stepped closer, his expression pained. "I'm sorry, Chuuya. I thought I was doing the right thing."

Chuuya looked at him, really looked at him, and saw the regret, the sorrow, the love that Dazai had tried to hide. In that moment, he realized that Dazai had suffered just as much as he had, maybe even more. The anger melted away, leaving only the raw, aching love that had been there all along.

"We need to find a cure," Chuuya said, his voice steady despite the tears. "Together."

Dazai nodded, a small, hopeful smile playing on his lips. "Together."

They set off on their quest, side by side, facing whatever challenges came their way. The road was long and difficult, filled with dangers and uncertainties. But they faced it together, their bond growing stronger with each passing day.

In the end, it wasn't a magical cure or a miracle that saved them. It was their love, the love they had tried to deny and suppress, that healed them. The buds and petals stopped, the coughing ceased, and they were left with the scars and the memories of what they had endured. But they were also left with each other, and that was enough.

Chuuya and Dazai continued their journey, not just as partners in crime but as something more, something deeper. They had faced the darkness and come out the other side, and they knew that whatever the future held, they would face it together as one.