soukoku.
note: not written by me, but my girlfriend who took a step into the fiction-writing world with this !
"I wonder what dying from hypothermia is like. Should I try it? Nah, I don't like being cold, and it takes too long."
The brunette ended the sentence with a sigh and leaned back against the tree. It was a beautiful evening in Yokohama, the sun was setting and snowflakes were falling from the sky.
The snow that had settled on the ground shimmered white and it seemed like it was glowing; in the distance you could see couples holding hands or kissing, yet the hill on which Dazai was sitting, with a single tree on top, was untouched.
Yes, it truly was a beautiful sight, like straight out of a fairytale. Enough to make all emptiness disappear and fill you with warmth.
Well, almost all emptiness, because a certain detective still wasn't able to feel that warmth. He couldn't help but feel empty inside.
What was the reason for that? Maybe it was the fact that he was still alive, but maybe it was because he was alone.
As that thought went through Dazai's head he started to wonder; it wasn't anything new for the brunette to feel empty or alone, so why was this feeling that strong today?
He let out another long sigh and looked down onto his gloved hands. The detective let out a small chuckle. Those gloves looked a bit weird on him, they obviously were too small and that black was a weird contrast to the rest of his outfit.
A certain red-headed chibi gave them to him a long time ago. But why did he keep them? Maybe because they were the only pair of gloves he had. But then again, he could always buy a new pair. So why-
"You really kept those?" A very familiar voice suddenly asked.
Dazai looked up, and instantly a pair of baby blue eyes met his. Chuuya stood before him in his usual getup, hands on his hips, a slight smirk on his soft looking lips and standing in front of the sun, giving the chibi a beautiful glow. But that's how he always looked: so very beautiful like a sunshine in Dazai's rainy and cloudy sky.
The ex-mafioso let out a chuckle.
"Oh, Chuuya. Since when have you been here?", he asked. Of course the red-head was there, he always was. The brunette wouldn't even have noticed the hatrack if he hadn't said anything.
Said person sat down next to the detective. Before Dazai could even wonder why, Chuuya began to speak.
"I just got here, I'm not some creep who stares at random people, y'know. And why are you sitting here? Your clothes will get wet from the snow, they probably already are." He let out a long sigh, clearly annoyed.
And so the detective and the mafioso began to talk.
Talking. It's always been so easy with Chuuya, because with him, Dazai could talk about anything. About his problems, his worries, about everything. He could drop his 'happy dumbass' facade, instead he could be sad and depressed, he could finally let his real feelings out.
So they kept talking.
Neither of them realized how late it had gotten and by the time they were done talking it was dark, the snowfall had ended, the streetlights were on but not a single soul could be seen on the streets. Dazai didn't want this beautiful night to end. But, like everything, it had to end sometime.
