𝚆𝚊𝚛𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜-𝙰𝚗𝚐𝚜𝚝
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Chuuya stared at the empty glass in his hand, the dim lighting of the bar casting long shadows across his face. The burn of whiskey lingered on his tongue, but it did nothing to numb the ache in his chest. He swirled the amber liquid, lost in thought, lost in memories of a man he could never fully understand.
Dazai.
The name alone was enough to send a shiver down his spine. It was a name that haunted him, that clung to him like a curse. Chuuya had tried, time and again, to break free of it, to move on, but no matter how far he ran, Dazai was always there. Always pulling him back into the darkness.
“You shouldn’t drink so much, Chuuya. It dulls your senses.”
Chuuya flinched at the sound of the familiar voice, his grip tightening on the glass. He didn’t need to turn around to know who it was. Dazai’s presence was unmistakable—an oppressive weight that settled in the pit of his stomach.
“What do you want?” Chuuya asked, his voice low and edged with anger. He refused to look at him, refused to give him the satisfaction of seeing the pain in his eyes.
Dazai slid into the seat beside him, his movements as graceful and deliberate as ever. “Can’t I visit an old partner?” he asked with that infuriating smile that never quite reached his eyes. “I heard you’ve been working too hard lately. Thought I’d check up on you.”
“Check up on me?” Chuuya scoffed, finally turning to face him. “Don’t pretend like you care, Dazai. You’ve made it pretty damn clear that I’m nothing to you.”
Dazai’s smile faltered, just for a moment, but Chuuya caught it. That small slip of the mask. It only fueled his anger further.
“Is this how you get your kicks? Watching me fall apart while you sit back and do nothing?” Chuuya slammed the glass down on the table, the sound echoing in the quiet bar. “You waltz in and out of my life whenever you damn well please, like I’m just some fucking toy you can play with!”
Dazai didn’t flinch. He never did. He simply stared at Chuuya with those dark, unreadable eyes, as if he was analyzing every crack, every fracture in Chuuya’s defenses.
“I never meant to hurt you, Chuuya,” Dazai said softly, his voice almost gentle, and that made Chuuya’s blood boil.
“Don’t lie to me!” Chuuya snapped, his fists trembling with rage. “You knew exactly what you were doing! You always know exactly what you’re doing!”
For a moment, silence hung between them, heavy and suffocating. The bar around them was a blur, the distant hum of conversations and clinking glasses fading into nothingness. All that mattered was the man sitting beside him—the man who had torn him apart more times than he could count.
“I’m sorry,” Dazai finally said, and the sincerity in his voice was almost enough to break Chuuya. Almost.
“Sorry doesn’t fix anything, Dazai,” Chuuya muttered, his voice cracking. “Sorry doesn’t take back all the nights I spent wondering if you were dead or alive. It doesn’t make up for all the empty promises you left behind.”
Dazai’s gaze softened, and for the first time in a long time, Chuuya saw a flicker of something real—regret, guilt, maybe even pain. But it didn’t matter. It was too late.
“I never wanted to drag you down with me,” Dazai whispered, his voice barely audible. “But I couldn’t stop myself. I couldn’t stay away.”
Chuuya clenched his fists, trying to hold back the tears that threatened to spill over. “Then why did you leave? If you couldn’t stay away, why did you leave me behind every damn time?”
Dazai reached out, his hand hovering just above Chuuya’s, hesitant, unsure. “Because I’m poison, Chuuya. I ruin everything I touch. And you… you deserve better than that.”
Chuuya laughed bitterly, shaking his head. “Better? Who the hell do you think you are to decide what I deserve?”
Dazai didn’t have an answer for that. He simply withdrew his hand, letting it fall limply at his side. The silence between them was deafening, filled with all the things they would never say, all the wounds that would never heal.
“I’m leaving again,” Dazai said after what felt like an eternity. His voice was hollow, empty.
Chuuya looked at him, really looked at him, and for the first time, he saw just how broken Dazai was. The man who always seemed untouchable, who always had control, was falling apart in front of him.
And yet, Chuuya knew he couldn’t fix him. He couldn’t save him from the darkness that consumed him. He had tried, and it had only brought them both more pain.
“Then go,” Chuuya whispered, his voice barely holding together. “But don’t come back this time, Dazai. Don’t… don’t make me go through this again.”
Dazai stood, and for a moment, it seemed like he might say something, anything, to change things. But he didn’t. He simply nodded, turned, and walked away.
Chuuya watched him go, watched the man he loved disappear into the night, knowing that this time, there would be no return.
And as the bar around him resumed its usual noise, Chuuya was left with nothing but the echo of empty promises and the ghost of a man he could never let go.
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904 words
