[Dazai speaks, and the words are difficult to digest. "No one can escape the night, Odasaku, not even you." True enough, in that broad sort of way, he supposes, but then...
[Dazai speaks again.
["You are also a weak person in need of protection."
[Odasaku's expression rarely changes. He's long been told that others find it impossible to tell what he's thinking, because how could they? He's a stone.
[The stone cracks - surprise, confusion, or something worse, buried so deeply inside that he'd forgotten entirely what it feels like to have it pulled to the surface. It's young. It's raw, somehow, despite the denial that still rages against it, the impulse to disagree.
It's weak.
[Rarely has Odasaku been afforded the luxury of feeling weak.
[Protection? Who has ever taken the time to protect Odasaku? He's Japan's most deadly assassin, feared by name alone, a member of the Port Mafia, low-ranking as he may be, but...
[Osamu Dazai is his friend. Every night, they talk for hours; Odasaku isn't lonely. Every morning, they make each other coffee; Odasaku can stay upright. They share, they strategize. They raced carousel animals and talked of dragons. They met at fifteen with no memory of each other, and still walked hand in hand. Dazai handed him the tools to write the book he's always dreamed of.
[He pushed Odasaku away. Magic trapped everyone in bubbles, planted images in their minds, made them feel calm, angry, in love. Dazai wouldn't accept it. He pushed him away, and...
[That was protection too.
[When everyone in the world turned against Odasaku, Dazai tried to save him.
[He couldn't protect him, just the same way that Odasaku couldn't protect the children. They both understand something terrible, even as they are now, don't they?
[Who cares about a goddamn kiss? Odasaku realizes for the first time in his life that someone loves him.
[And he can't stop staring, looking more human then ever, that terrible, ever-rising well of emotion within him threatening to swallow him completely. He sets down his glass, and it clinks too loudly. Has the club gone quiet, or are his ears just ringing?]
Dazai...
[Osamu Dazai...
[At last, Odasaku's eyes fall away, brow frowning over them. He nods his head, though it just barely moves.
IDK IF U WANNA WRAP UP HERE?? OR??? LMK?!??!?!
[Dazai speaks again.
["You are also a weak person in need of protection."
[Odasaku's expression rarely changes. He's long been told that others find it impossible to tell what he's thinking, because how could they? He's a stone.
[The stone cracks - surprise, confusion, or something worse, buried so deeply inside that he'd forgotten entirely what it feels like to have it pulled to the surface. It's young. It's raw, somehow, despite the denial that still rages against it, the impulse to disagree.
[Rarely has Odasaku been afforded the luxury of feeling weak.
[Protection? Who has ever taken the time to protect Odasaku? He's Japan's most deadly assassin, feared by name alone, a member of the Port Mafia, low-ranking as he may be, but...
[Osamu Dazai is his friend. Every night, they talk for hours; Odasaku isn't lonely. Every morning, they make each other coffee; Odasaku can stay upright. They share, they strategize. They raced carousel animals and talked of dragons. They met at fifteen with no memory of each other, and still walked hand in hand. Dazai handed him the tools to write the book he's always dreamed of.
[He pushed Odasaku away. Magic trapped everyone in bubbles, planted images in their minds, made them feel calm, angry, in love. Dazai wouldn't accept it. He pushed him away, and...
[That was protection too.
[When everyone in the world turned against Odasaku, Dazai tried to save him.
[He couldn't protect him, just the same way that Odasaku couldn't protect the children. They both understand something terrible, even as they are now, don't they?
[Who cares about a goddamn kiss? Odasaku realizes for the first time in his life that someone loves him.
[And he can't stop staring, looking more human then ever, that terrible, ever-rising well of emotion within him threatening to swallow him completely. He sets down his glass, and it clinks too loudly. Has the club gone quiet, or are his ears just ringing?]
Dazai...
[Osamu Dazai...
[At last, Odasaku's eyes fall away, brow frowning over them. He nods his head, though it just barely moves.
[What else can he say, really, but:]
Yeah. [Yeah.]
Thanks...Dazai.