Bound by Obsession

Part 19

The next morning, Dazai woke up with the unsettling realization that his thoughts had lingered on Fyodor far longer than he'd like to admit. The memory of Fyodor's touch, his words, and the offer of something more kept playing on repeat in his mind. Normally, Dazai wouldn't let someone get under his skin like this, but Fyodor had a way of creeping into the cracks, the places Dazai thought were sealed shut.

He ran a hand through his messy hair and sighed, staring out the window of the mansion. The sun was beginning to rise, casting a soft light across the landscape. It was peaceful, quiet—a stark contrast to the turmoil in his mind.

Dazai couldn't deny it anymore. He was starting to like Fyodor more than he wanted to admit.

His time in the Port Mafia had been chaotic, filled with violence, manipulation, and a constant tug-of-war between him and Chuuya. Soukoku had its appeal, of course—the raw power, the history, the familiarity. But there was something about Fyodor that was different. Something calm, steady, yet dangerous all the same. Fyodor was like a puzzle, one that Dazai wanted to solve but knew he might never fully understand.

He couldn't help but smirk at the thought. Fyodor, huh?

Stretching, Dazai got out of bed, slipping on his coat as he made his way downstairs. The mansion was eerily quiet, but it suited him. He liked the silence, especially when it gave him time to think. Fyodor wasn't one for unnecessary noise either, and Dazai found that he appreciated the quiet moments they had together—moments where words weren't needed, and the tension between them spoke louder than any conversation could.

As he wandered through the halls, Dazai's thoughts shifted to the day before. How Chuuya had come to him about the mission, the way things had played out with Fyodor's sudden appearance and the kidnapping. Chuuya, with all his fiery determination, had been left in the dust, while Fyodor had taken center stage. For once, it hadn't been Chuuya and Dazai as the unstoppable force of Soukoku—it had been Fyodor and Dazai, a duo of a completely different kind.

And Dazai had liked it.

He had liked how smoothly they worked together, how effortlessly Fyodor had taken control without making Dazai feel like he was losing his own. It was the complete opposite of Chuuya's constant push and pull, the never-ending tension that always left Dazai drained after every mission.

But now, here he was, standing in the heart of Fyodor's mansion, torn between two paths—two men who represented different pieces of himself.

As he reached the grand dining room, Fyodor was already there, sitting at the head of the table, a cup of tea in hand. He looked up when Dazai entered, his expression unreadable but his eyes, as always, sharp and focused.

"Good morning," Fyodor said, his voice smooth and calm.

"Morning," Dazai replied, slipping into a seat across from him. He picked up a piece of toast, absentmindedly biting into it as he tried to push away the lingering feelings of conflict.

Fyodor studied him for a moment before speaking again. "You seem troubled."

Dazai chuckled lightly, resting his chin in his hand. "You're always so perceptive, aren't you?"

"I find it hard not to be when it comes to you, Dazai." Fyodor leaned forward slightly, his eyes narrowing with interest. "What's on your mind?"

Dazai sighed, pushing his plate aside. "You, mostly. And Chuuya."

Fyodor raised an eyebrow, though his smile remained in place. "Ah, the eternal tug-of-war between you and your partner. How exhausting that must be."

"It's more complicated than that," Dazai muttered, rubbing his temples. "Chuuya and I... it's always been intense. Fire and fury. But lately, it's felt like something's missing."

"Perhaps it's because you're starting to realize that chaos isn't the only thing you crave," Fyodor said softly, his voice like a steady current. "There's more to life than constant conflict, Dazai."

Dazai looked up at him, something stirring in his chest at the way Fyodor spoke. There was truth in his words, a truth Dazai hadn't been ready to face before. He had always thrived on chaos, on the unpredictability of his life with Chuuya, but now... now he wasn't so sure.

"I'm not saying you need to abandon what you have with Chuuya," Fyodor continued, his gaze piercing. "But there's another side to you, one that's been neglected for far too long. You can find balance, Dazai. You can have both power and peace."

Dazai swallowed hard, the weight of Fyodor's words sinking in. The idea of peace had always seemed so foreign to him, so out of reach. But now, sitting across from Fyodor in this quiet, still mansion, he wondered if it was something he could actually have.

"What are you suggesting, then?" Dazai asked, his voice softer than usual.

Fyodor smiled, a slow, almost predatory smile. "I'm suggesting that you stop running from what you truly want. You and I... we could build something far greater than what you have now. Together, we could reshape the world."

Dazai's heart raced, the intensity of Fyodor's words pulling him in. There was no denying the connection between them, the way they fit together in ways that were different from him and Chuuya. With Fyodor, there was a sense of control, a sense of purpose that he hadn't felt in a long time.

But was he ready to let go of Soukoku? Of Chuuya?

Fyodor seemed to sense his hesitation, leaning back in his chair with a knowing look. "You don't have to decide now, Dazai. Take your time. But remember this—you're not bound by anyone or anything. You're free to choose the path that suits you best."

Dazai nodded, though his mind was still racing. The decision wouldn't be easy, but one thing was becoming clearer with each passing moment—his feelings for Fyodor were growing, whether he liked it or not.

And that terrified him.

As the day wore on, Dazai found himself drawn more and more to Fyodor, the pull between them growing stronger. They spent hours talking, the conversation flowing effortlessly between them. There was something about the way Fyodor spoke, the way he understood Dazai on a level that few people ever had, that made Dazai want to stay. He found himself laughing more, relaxing in Fyodor's presence in a way that felt natural, easy.

By the time the evening rolled around, Dazai couldn't deny it any longer—he was starting to like Fyodor. More than he wanted to.