[ Dazai's eyes train down and to the side, to the hand that clings to one of the sleeves of his jacket. He stares for several long seconds, eyes-half closed, as though reflecting on something, before he shakes his head and looks back up.
If it were any other time and any other place, he might be able to brush it off with a light remark about this happening before, but that look on his face kills any inclination he might have.
It's difficult. He is without a doubt Osamu Dazai. He is the same as he was every day before now, but there's a piece of him missing. There's a gap between then and now. Those memories of the last few months haven't quite settled, and neither has his heart, which aches painfully. It's overwhelming. That look overwhelms him, and it feels as though any kind of torture would be less painful.
He places his hand on Odasaku's arm, letting it settle there. ]
I wasn't gone that long, you know.
[ A wry grin that flattens out, then reshapes itself into something softer. ]
... I know. People disappear here all the time, so you started worrying, right? But I promised you that I wouldn't leave.
[ His fingers curl slightly. That's important. That's more important to him than almost anything, more and more with each passing second. There's this thought that he doesn't want to leave, not if leaving means returning. The thought of it is nauseating, and he finds that he'd lived with it for so long that he'd simply forgotten about it until now; he exhales a breath that he didn't realize he'd been holding. ]
Have I ever lied to you about something like that?
no subject
[ Dazai's eyes train down and to the side, to the hand that clings to one of the sleeves of his jacket. He stares for several long seconds, eyes-half closed, as though reflecting on something, before he shakes his head and looks back up.
If it were any other time and any other place, he might be able to brush it off with a light remark about this happening before, but that look on his face kills any inclination he might have.
It's difficult. He is without a doubt Osamu Dazai. He is the same as he was every day before now, but there's a piece of him missing. There's a gap between then and now. Those memories of the last few months haven't quite settled, and neither has his heart, which aches painfully. It's overwhelming. That look overwhelms him, and it feels as though any kind of torture would be less painful.
He places his hand on Odasaku's arm, letting it settle there. ]
I wasn't gone that long, you know.
[ A wry grin that flattens out, then reshapes itself into something softer. ]
... I know. People disappear here all the time, so you started worrying, right? But I promised you that I wouldn't leave.
[ His fingers curl slightly. That's important. That's more important to him than almost anything, more and more with each passing second. There's this thought that he doesn't want to leave, not if leaving means returning. The thought of it is nauseating, and he finds that he'd lived with it for so long that he'd simply forgotten about it until now; he exhales a breath that he didn't realize he'd been holding. ]
Have I ever lied to you about something like that?