Bound by Obsession

Part 18

Dazai sat in the grand room of Fyodor's mansion, staring blankly at the untouched glass of wine in his hand. The swirling thoughts in his head were louder than the silence that filled the room. His mind kept returning to the one question that he couldn't shake—Chuuya or Fyodor?

Chuuya had been there for years, the other half of Soukoku, their brutal synergy on the battlefield unmatched. There was a bond between them, something deeply embedded in their rivalry, their partnership. But it was always chaotic, always explosive, leaving Dazai wondering if it was truly what he wanted, or if it was simply familiar.

Then, there was Fyodor.

The man sitting across from him now, silent but intense, always watching Dazai with that calculating gaze. Fyodor's presence was magnetic, pulling Dazai into a space of intrigue and darkness that felt different from the chaos he shared with Chuuya. It was smoother, more seductive in its nature, as if Fyodor was playing a long, unspoken game, leading Dazai down a path he was unsure of but couldn't resist.

Dazai took a sip of the wine, feeling the warmth spread through him as he tried to sort through the tangled mess of emotions. Did he truly feel something for Fyodor? Was it attraction, or was it the thrill of their intellectual sparring? The dangerous balance they had danced around for years?

Or was it something deeper?

Fyodor leaned forward slightly, breaking the silence. His voice was soft, almost intimate. "You've been quiet, Dazai. I expected more banter from you by now."

Dazai smirked, but it felt half-hearted. "Can't a guy enjoy a drink in peace? Or have you already planned some grand revelation?"

Fyodor chuckled softly, but his gaze remained locked on Dazai. "You seem... troubled. Unusually so."

Dazai shrugged, leaning back in his chair. He tried to mask the weight of his thoughts with his usual carefree attitude. "It's nothing that concerns you. Just contemplating life's many twists and turns."

"Is that so?" Fyodor's tone carried a knowing edge. He wasn't fooled by Dazai's casual front. "I wonder if one of those 'twists' happens to involve a certain partner of yours."

Dazai froze for a brief moment before forcing a chuckle. "You mean Chuuya? Why would he be on my mind?"

Fyodor didn't respond immediately. Instead, he took a slow sip from his glass, letting the tension hang in the air. When he finally spoke, his voice was even quieter, more deliberate. "Because you're caught between two forces. One that pulls you back into the fire, and one that offers you something... different."

Dazai's heart skipped a beat. Fyodor was always perceptive, always digging deeper than anyone else could. It was unnerving how easily he could read between the lines.

"You and Chuuya share something powerful, don't you?" Fyodor continued, his gaze never leaving Dazai. "But it's chaotic. It burns hot, but it consumes everything in its path."

Dazai's jaw tightened. He hated how close Fyodor was getting to the truth. Chuuya was fire—uncontrollable, unpredictable. But that fire was what made Soukoku so unstoppable. It was part of the reason Dazai had always been drawn to him, despite their constant bickering.

But Fyodor... Fyodor was something else entirely. He was cold, calculating, always in control. Being around him was like stepping into the eye of a storm—calm on the surface, but dangerous beneath.

"Is that what this is, Fyodor?" Dazai asked, his tone sharp. "You're trying to paint yourself as the better option?"

Fyodor's lips curled into a small smile. "I'm not painting anything, Dazai. I'm simply stating what's already there. You've been chasing after Chuuya's fire for so long, but it never gives you peace, does it?"

Dazai clenched his fists, setting the wine glass down on the table. Fyodor was right, and that was what irritated him the most. He had spent years with Chuuya, battling side by side, but it always left him feeling hollow afterward. Their connection was fierce, yes, but it lacked something... something that Fyodor seemed to offer without even trying.

"And what do you offer, then?" Dazai asked, his voice low but dangerous. "What's your promise, Fyodor?"

Fyodor stood up slowly, crossing the distance between them with deliberate steps. He stopped just in front of Dazai, looking down at him with those piercing eyes. "I offer clarity, Dazai. Control. A partnership that doesn't burn you out, but sharpens you. Together, we could reshape everything. No chaos, no uncertainty. Just the two of us, aligned."

Dazai's breath hitched slightly, the weight of Fyodor's words hitting harder than he expected. He could feel the pull, the magnetic draw of the man standing before him. It was intoxicating, and yet, it terrified him. With Fyodor, there was no room for games—only the cold, hard truth of what they could become.

"I won't force you to choose," Fyodor said softly, his hand gently brushing against Dazai's cheek. The touch was feather-light, but it sent a shiver down Dazai's spine. "But I know you already feel it. You and I—we're inevitable."

Dazai swallowed hard, his mind racing. The choice between Chuuya's fire and Fyodor's cold intensity felt impossible. He wasn't ready to make it yet, but every passing moment with Fyodor was tipping the scales.

"Think about it, Dazai," Fyodor whispered, leaning down just enough that his breath ghosted over Dazai's lips. "I'll be waiting."

Dazai sat frozen as Fyodor turned and left the room, the sound of the door closing behind him echoing through the mansion. Alone once again, Dazai's thoughts swirled, more conflicted than ever.

Chuuya or Fyodor. Fire or ice. Passion or control.

Dazai didn't know what to choose yet, but one thing was certain—this decision would change everything.