[ He's instinctively closing that eye now, more to avoid any remnant liquid than anything... Dazai isn't any stranger to others taking care of him, but it still feels surreal to have it be someone who hasn't tended to him in so many years. Between that and the question his expression falters, caught off guard, and he fidgets, no more sure of what to do now than he was years ago. ]
8, then...
[ He manages to hold aside from his restless fidgeting though, letting the blood be cleaned off his face.
800, to 80, to 8... The comment about how he doesn't want Odasaku to be lonely when he dies is there, but his lungs collapse and his chest compresses when he tries to say the words There's a breathy sound as he tries it, one that saves itself in a slight chuckle, ]
Well... You need someone to depend on, right? You need people who you can depend on, so I have to make sure you have someone! Like Maruki-san and BB-chan!
[ His voice starts low, uncertain, as though he's faltering on some idea, before picking up as he goes along, growing in pitch as his expression brightens. It would be wrong to call it fake, because it's what Dazai wants and believes. It's what he knows. ]
[If Odasaku senses any of Dazai's apprehension, he doesn't let it show. He's always been good at that too. In some ways, it doesn't surprise Odasaku, that it might bring out this side in Dazai. He sounds as young and uncertain as he did when they first met. Oda's heart aches for that too.
[There's no one in the world that he cherishes more than his dear friend.
[The blood is cleaned. Odasaku leans away, inspecting his friend.]
You can count Maruki-san down already, I think. We talk pretty regularly. I guess that makes BB-chan next on the list.
[ Dazai blinks, his vision a briefly blurring from the water, and rubs his eyes. He brushes his hair out of his face, rubs both his eyes once more out of instinct more than anything, then looks again. ]
BB-chan is next. There are others too. You don't have to worry about the Port Mafia anymore, so you can live your life freely here.
[ That's nothing they haven't discussed before, of course; it would need to come up over time.
And as ever, Dazai isn't quite sure of what it is that he wants to say, and so, ]
... You want a beautiful, sharp-witted woman, right? I'm going to find a beautiful woman to die with, so before that, I want you to have a wife, and friends who will support you.
[Odasaku has gotten so used to Dazai's talk of death that he seems to barely hear it. He does hear it, though. He doesn't like it, of course, to think of his friend, dead under any circumstances. No one likes to think of something like that.
[The conversation isn't truly about women. Dazai is hesitant to leave Odasaku behind. Odasaku feels the same. Maybe they were destined to be apart, but it's not what he wants. It's not what he'll ever want.
[These emotions well up inside of him like a wave, but it never crashes, just sinks back down. He's been watching his friend too long. Speaks, at last.]
I'm enjoying the time I have here with you. I'd rather worry about that other stuff later.
[ Well. That's true. He can't refute either point.
He sighs. ]
... I rolled off the bed, and half the bed came with me, and I don't know where a couple things went...
[ He's sulking a little now, but it does seem to be his displeasure with how he wound up banging his head, though this sort of ridiculous way of injuring himself is fairly in character. ]
Why is it that the human body is only paralyzed for a tiny fraction of the time it's asleep anyway? Seems like a pretty useless feature to me.
One, one of the legs broke, and it caused the other to come loose, so it's It's leaning to one side...
[ He places his hands in his lap and leans to one side himself to demonstrate.
It is exactly something out of a cartoon because it's only seconds later that there's a loud thump and clattering, which one would be correct to assume was the result of having the bed form of the leaning tower of pisa. ]
Here is fine...
[ He's just going to lean more and let gravity take him now, as one does. ]
We'll have to see if we can fix it in the morning. [This, said with a yawn. He holds up a finger and disappears into his room; returns with a pillow, which he tosses at Dazai's head, and a blanket, which he tosses at Dazai's feet.]
He catches the pillow when it's tossed to him. He sits up properly and crosses his legs, leaning forward as he holds it close to his chest. ]
It is. It's my favorite napping place.
[ He takes grips the edges of the pillows before stretching his arms out about his head with a noisy yawn. Then he brings it back to his torso, lolling his head to the side. ]
... Hey, Odasaku.
[ There it is, that same voice that he always uses before saying something strange. It's late, he woke up to banging his head and breaking furniture, so it was inevitable. ]
The fear of dying in a dream is a common sentiment, but so is the idea of an eternal sleep.
[ That's what death is, but it's not what he's referring to here; they both know that. ]
Snow White bit the poison apple, Sleeping Beauty touched her spindle, but neither died... They were put into a deep sleep. They dreamed a long dream. People transformed that into stories, but why is it so scary? If it were a nightmare I would understand...
[ But he's made his way onto the sofa by now if he wasn't before, pulling a blanket onto the edge, hugging a pillow to his chest and pressing his head down against the cushion as he observes the marks on the ceiling, ]
... But what if it's not a nightmare? What if it's not wandering through a manor with the sickening feeling that you can never go back? There's plenty of stories like that too... There's beings in which promise you "the refuge of dreams." Endless stairs, endless happiness, a sleep that just goes on and on until you die...
[ Dazai clutches the pillow a little closer, eyelids closing halfway, a frown appearing, ]
... Why is that horrific? Humans fear death, but as far as ways to die... Wouldn't you say that dying for a happy dream would be a benevolent way to die?
[ A grimace, the faintest hint of bitterness followed by a smile, ]
After all, life is just one long dream, isn't it...?
[These words would be non-sensical to anyone else, but Oda listens to every one. He never really frets over whether he understands what Dazai's saying. He just listens and offers what he has.
[This talk of fairytales makes him consider two things.]
If someone is condemned to a lifetime of nothing but peaceful sleep, then why not let them? When you ask yourself that question, the only real answer is that the people around them dislike it. It's not exactly fair. I think people may fear the deaths of others even more than they fear death for themselves.
That being said...
If a happy dream is a benevolent death, and life is nothing but a long dream...
Wouldn't living a happy life to its end be a benevolent death too?
[ It's a fool's errand to try to make sense of what Dazai says, because there is no sense to it; he says what he thinks, what makes sense to him, and that's that. He's like any other person in that sense, it's just that his manner of thinking is different.
That's likely a big part of why he gets along so well with Odasaku; the way he thinks is different, unconcerned with what's normal, and so their conversations have an easy flow to him. That's not to say that he looks down on people with conventional ways of thinking; he likes them just fine, but they can't hold a conversation with him.
His expression flattens into something more neutral, before he closes his eyes and smiles, laying lat and holding the pillow close to his chest. It's a mellow smile, unemotional, unreadable, but perhaps to present company...
Maybe...
There's a kind of melancholy to it. His hands folded around a pillow like a child, almost like a corpse with its hands folded over its chest in a coffin, except his fingers dig in and clutch it.
Wake me from this oxidizing dream.
His feelings haven't changed. ]
That's exactly... Paulo Coelho once said, "Love is a moment in life, a dream, and at times, a painful dream." But life is on the whole exactly the same. It is nothing but a dream, as brief or long as it might be.
[ Then death could be the end to a long, long dream... ]
But to other people that's a curse. I can understand stories where it's a nightmare, where something is killing you, but what's so scary about a long staircase; what's scary about a refuge of dreams? What's scary about a fake world? It might be scary for the people around you to see you sleep for longer and longer hours, but why is it scary to think about dying in a fake world? If it's a happy dream...
[ Dazai can't understand, because he only has nightmares. Nightmares of a moment in time, a snapshot in time, the day that he died. He doesn't sleep at night, but rather falls asleep at desks and on couches; he chokes down sake and deprives himself of sleep until dreams no longer come.
But he shares none of that, instead pulling the pillow down and looking to Oda with a smile warm, affectionate, happy, that twists into a grimace just briefly, ]
Wouldn't you say that a fleeting world of happiness is better than a lifetime of pain?
[Oda might struggle to pick up on someone's mood even with obvious changes in expression, but when it comes to Dazai, somehow, he's learned to pick up on the subtle things.
[Dazai is ever the crying child Oda first said he was. It's heartbreaking in that way that you can only allow something to be heartbreaking for a few seconds at a time. Who doesn't want peace for a dear friend? Dazai suffers. Oda knows he does.]
I'd have trouble answering that question. [His voice is quiet, thoughtful.]
Suppose...I've never thought all that much about happiness itself. I made it through day to day just fine most of the time. Maybe I figure that's all you can really ask for.
[Something occurs to him, and he falls quiet for another moment.]
[ He taps his temple, letting his arm rest over his eyes, covering out the light as he lays with his knees up. One rocks back and forth, starting to fall to the side before he brings it back up to click against the other. ]
The world doesn't really exist in the way that we think it does. Humans just developed sensory input in a way that allows the brain to piece together our own world. There are pieces of the world that we can't interact with, and there are things that don't match our perception of them.
[ Which isn't to say that there is no reality or descend into solipsism and nihilism, but rather at once an addition and a counterpoint to his previous assertion. People can be happy in a fake world. They can be happy in a dream world. They can be happy because the two aren't all that different.
It's academic jargon, but it is a way of affirming Odasaku's words. This isn't quite the world he yearns for most; it's too unstable, too erratic, something that he can't control and protect. It's one where everything can still be taken from him. But it's one where he can live.
He'd never thought about happiness all that much either. It seemed inconsequential to him. Dazai's life was always just Dazai's life; empty, gray, painful.
Dazai pauses to to collect his thoughts. Odasaku can't match Dazai's level of intellect and cunning any better than anyone else, but he's sharp; he's perceptive, one of the few people who have been able to so thoroughly trick Dazai, with a high perception and level of emotional intelligence that Dazai could never hope to match. It sometimes felt like Odasaku could perceive Dazai's feelings better than Dazai himself could ever hope to.
Dazai is a crying child; he's a lost child who finally found his house; he's a twenty-two year old boy who was far too intelligent to be able to interact with the world - a fact that he's leaned into more than away from. ]
I had a nice dream recently, [ He lifts his arm back up, gesturing vaguely, though his gaze stays on the ceiling, ] I didn't think that was possible for me anymore, it's been so many years.
[ There's a bubbling little laugh. It's pleasant, affectionate. Though it wasn't quite a dream either. He still hasn't seen a real one; there's only nightmares. There's only a moment in time, a memory, played on an endless loop - reach, grasp, find his grip empty; a red stain on his palm that blurs in and out of focus, the faint smell of smoke and the resounding silence, followed by a sound that he only recognizes after some time to be his own stifled sobs.
Not quite a dream, but just as ethereal and fleeting. ]
[Oda listens. He listens to Dazai talk and dream and laugh. He spends every night, now, listening to Dazai.
[It makes him sad. It makes him happy. He doesn't feel lonely anymore. There's guilt. He's glad that Dazai's here. He's glad that he's not alone. He's glad that he has someone near who cares enough to put a bandage on his brow.
[His heart swells with woeful affection. He finds himself sitting on the ground with his back pressed up against the couch. He reaches onto the table and takes a pack of cigarettes to light up; offers one to Dazai, as is only polite.]
Let's do what we said. Let's explore this world.
There's no more reason to go anywhere else. You said so yourself.
[Maybe Dazai isn't meant for happiness, but he can have something. If he likes this place, and he wants to stay here, he can have that, at least. He should.]
If you say it like that, I'm going to start to think you've mistaken me for a pitiful person. It was a glimpse into a world where everyone was happy... The Boss retired and became the head of an orphanage. You might not understand it, but he never really wanted to be the Boss. Akutagawa-kun found someone who could teach him patience. Ango never really changed. And you...
[ He takes the cigarette and taps the top of Odasaku's head with his index finger. ]
... Never had to join the Port Mafia.
[ There's others too, but none that Odasaku would know. He passes over them as readily as he does himself. Dazai doesn't smoke, but he fiddles with the cigarette.
He speaks of the world with a genuine affection, something that fills his entire heart; the words are as warm and gentle as a summer breeze. He lolls his head to finally look at the other, his gaze not quite matching his tone; there's that emptiness that always seems to find its way back to him which mingles with that softness.He rolls onto his side shortly after, dropping the pillow behind him and instead folding one arm to use as a pillow instead.
It's the life that he has now which changed that world's trajectory. Sometimes, that's enough for him to feel like his life has some meaning. ]
... I'm happy that a world like that exists. From the bottom of my heart, I'm glad I was able to see it.
[ Though maybe it's pointless to share any of this. It's difficult to understand and easy to dismiss, as are all things with him. It's easier yet to miss what's buried beneath those feelings - that bitter jealousy and resentment for having been born in this world and not that one,for only being able to yearn and want, things that mingle with but can't trump the comfort of just knowing it exists; his love for that world, imprinted on him, a dream that hasn't fully faded away yet; a world that he wants others to love, for it's a miracle that it exists.
[It's a surprisingly sentimental dream, Oda thinks. Dazai even thought up something for the boss to do. Maybe it shouldn't be so surprising. Dazai's version of a happy ending may be a strange one, but he talks about them often enough.
[Something brings Oda's awareness to the beating of his own heart, though it's meant to be still. It's one of those moments where Dazai's presence is such that one has no choice but to hang onto every word. There's weight to them. Oda can tell. He wants to know everything that Dazai's thinking. He always wants to know what he's thinking.
[ It is a strange one. It's stranger yget for how much he resents Mori and Ango. He hasn't forgiven them; he'll never forgive them, but he knows them. He doesn't care enough, but he does care. It's emotion after emotion that tangles itself up, feelings that choke each other out, and in the end he settles on that they each have their use.
He hesitates, his mouth opening and closing, expression shifting several times and his gaze darting about. It's nerves, and it's hesitation, but more than that it's just a simple inability to find the words.
He's had so long to find them. He's had four long years of sitting next to an empty barstool or at a grave. Valentine's Day would come and he'd brag about how many chocolates he'd gotten before toasting. Christmas. New Years. Days say with his back against a tombstone.
He never learned how to move on past simple yearning. There was never any opportunity. After some thought he pushes himself up, opting to join him on the floor. Dazai speaks as he does so, ]
You were right. It is better being on the side that saves people. I like it better, and I decided to become a good man, but... The truth is...
[ He settles down, reaching up and brushing his fingertips against the bandage on his head, fingers lighting tracing down his temple, near the eye; one that he'd lack the ability to see out of in another life. ]
... I could never really manage it. I'm the most selfish man alive.
[ He's watching, searching for even the slightest shift in expression. Dazai exhales softly, particles of memories hanging in the air, fragments of emotions that could never reform themselves into something whole. ]
I would kill the entire world if it meant you get to live.
[ Those words come out easier than the rest. His gaze is clear and earnest, without even the slightest hint of doubt, and entirely unrepentant. ]
[It all rips Odasaku apart - Dazai's words, his voice, his taciturn smile.
[It was selfish to leave him. This unique Hell they've found themselves in has reminded Odasaku of that every waking moment of every single day. Dazai is near. It's impossible to shake. Odasaku knew what that final charge would bring, and he did it anyway. He wouldn't blame Dazai for hating him.
[But Dazai doesn't hate him. He grieves him. That's a new and nauseating feeling, to be grieved, to be that great source of pain.
[Odasaku reaches out and grips Dazai's shoulder tight with his hand. Despite it all, he manages the most subdued of smiles, stark just for the fact that it's on Odasaku's face at all.]
Lucky for the world, no one needs to worry about that right now. Isn't that something?
Dazai. [Blue eyes search his friends face. Something pleads in them.] I'm glad I got to see you again. I'm glad you're here with me now.
i started it with beastzai i have no room to judge
[ Dazai has never once blamed Odasaku. He's never once resented him.
There's so many people who he blames, who he resents, and himself most of all, but never the man before him.
The only thing he had wanted was to see him one more time, but that's a lie. He wanted so much more, but if he let those feelings spill out, he would never be able to stem the flow.
He flinches lightly at the touch to his shoulder, a sheepish look appearing, like he's trying to determine whether to apologize or lean into that kindness.
Humanity doesn't come naturally to Dazai. He doesn't know how to navigate it.
His chest compresses, his heart pounds, and it feels as though it might burst in his chest as his hand reaches up. His fingertips brush against the hand on his shoulder, and there's something uncertain and bittersweet in that awkward smile of his.
It's a look that Odasaku will recognize from back when their friendship started, a sixteen year old boy cautiously hoping that someone cared, backpedaling the second that it seemed dangerous.
It's the look of a person who thinks that even just the faintest acceptance of what he has will cause what he has now to disappear, be stolen away by the world.
He likes that world he saw. Dazai loves it. He loves it more than life itself, because it was a world that was his - it was a world where nothing could be taken away from him. ]
... You're right... I like this world.
[ And there it is again, the fretful look of a teenager searching for any sign of disapproval, anything that might be a danger. The look of a wary black cat. It eases though, and his smile settles into something easier.
There's a heat at the back of his eyes, but just a bit. And after some thought and hesitation - ]
... This is the world I want to live in. I'm happy here.
[ That feels important to say, somehow. And, more hesitantly still - ]
This world is less painful than others.
CRIES LMK IF U WANNA WRAP OR GO ON I AM EATING THIS
["I'm happy here," he says. It's more than Odasaku might ever have expected. There's really no arguing something like that. If this place, Hell though it might be, according to so many, is less painful than the life the awaits Dazai back in their world, then the decision is easy.]
We'll stay, then. [We'll stay. They will stay.] I like it too.
[ It's a horrible feeling. Dazai doesn't know what to do with it. It feels like too much. The grim reaper's sycthe positions itself before Dazai's eyes, but it always just grazes him before taking someone else's head off. It always just brushes against him before cutting whatever thread is tying him to someone. ]
You are. I want to die.
[ That's his response, pulling his knees close to his chest. Then, weakly, ]
I'm going to kill myself right now.
[ He folds his arms and buries his face against it. Dazai can't articulate what's there, not that desire to die while he still has a bit of happiness, not that desire to be lost before he can lose, and not that inability to die now - it would be so easy if it wouldn't hurt Odasaku. It would be so, so easy, but now it's not, because he doesn't want his death to hurt.
Dazai doesn't know how to say any of that, so he repeats, in a voice that should be light and joking but comes out quiet and miserable instead, because he is happy, Dazai is the happiest he's been in four long years, ]
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no subject
8, then...
[ He manages to hold aside from his restless fidgeting though, letting the blood be cleaned off his face.
800, to 80, to 8... The comment about how he doesn't want Odasaku to be lonely when he dies is there, but his lungs collapse and his chest compresses when he tries to say the words There's a breathy sound as he tries it, one that saves itself in a slight chuckle, ]
Well... You need someone to depend on, right? You need people who you can depend on, so I have to make sure you have someone! Like Maruki-san and BB-chan!
[ His voice starts low, uncertain, as though he's faltering on some idea, before picking up as he goes along, growing in pitch as his expression brightens. It would be wrong to call it fake, because it's what Dazai wants and believes. It's what he knows. ]
no subject
[There's no one in the world that he cherishes more than his dear friend.
[The blood is cleaned. Odasaku leans away, inspecting his friend.]
You can count Maruki-san down already, I think. We talk pretty regularly. I guess that makes BB-chan next on the list.
no subject
BB-chan is next. There are others too. You don't have to worry about the Port Mafia anymore, so you can live your life freely here.
[ That's nothing they haven't discussed before, of course; it would need to come up over time.
And as ever, Dazai isn't quite sure of what it is that he wants to say, and so, ]
... You want a beautiful, sharp-witted woman, right? I'm going to find a beautiful woman to die with, so before that, I want you to have a wife, and friends who will support you.
[ Plotting his life out seems simpler. ]
no subject
[The conversation isn't truly about women. Dazai is hesitant to leave Odasaku behind. Odasaku feels the same. Maybe they were destined to be apart, but it's not what he wants. It's not what he'll ever want.
[These emotions well up inside of him like a wave, but it never crashes, just sinks back down. He's been watching his friend too long. Speaks, at last.]
I'm enjoying the time I have here with you. I'd rather worry about that other stuff later.
no subject
Nothing has changed; they fell right back into the old familiar routine, but...
But these conversations seem just a little bit more difficult now. ]
You have to put your wife first, Odasaku.
[ He wags his finger, but doesn't seem inclined to push the matter any further. ]
Sorry for for waking you up.
no subject
[He tucks the contents of the first aid kit back in place and closes it up.]
It's not like I can't sleep in if I want to. Don't worry about it.
no subject
He sighs. ]
... I rolled off the bed, and half the bed came with me, and I don't know where a couple things went...
[ He's sulking a little now, but it does seem to be his displeasure with how he wound up banging his head, though this sort of ridiculous way of injuring himself is fairly in character. ]
Why is it that the human body is only paralyzed for a tiny fraction of the time it's asleep anyway? Seems like a pretty useless feature to me.
no subject
[What he's picturing is not unlike a cartoon, with Dazai falling off the bed and the bed falling to pieces, possibly with a humorous sound effect.
[The corners of Oda's mouth tug.]
That sounds like something that would only happen to you. Maybe you should sleep on the couch tonight.
We can talk a while longer.
no subject
One, one of the legs broke, and it caused the other to come loose, so it's It's leaning to one side...
[ He places his hands in his lap and leans to one side himself to demonstrate.
It is exactly something out of a cartoon because it's only seconds later that there's a loud thump and clattering, which one would be correct to assume was the result of having the bed form of the leaning tower of pisa. ]
Here is fine...
[ He's just going to lean more and let gravity take him now, as one does. ]
no subject
We'll have to see if we can fix it in the morning. [This, said with a yawn. He holds up a finger and disappears into his room; returns with a pillow, which he tosses at Dazai's head, and a blanket, which he tosses at Dazai's feet.]
At least it's a comfortable couch.
no subject
He catches the pillow when it's tossed to him. He sits up properly and crosses his legs, leaning forward as he holds it close to his chest. ]
It is. It's my favorite napping place.
[ He takes grips the edges of the pillows before stretching his arms out about his head with a noisy yawn. Then he brings it back to his torso, lolling his head to the side. ]
... Hey, Odasaku.
[ There it is, that same voice that he always uses before saying something strange. It's late, he woke up to banging his head and breaking furniture, so it was inevitable. ]
no subject
Mhmm. I'm listening.
no subject
[ That's what death is, but it's not what he's referring to here; they both know that. ]
Snow White bit the poison apple, Sleeping Beauty touched her spindle, but neither died... They were put into a deep sleep. They dreamed a long dream. People transformed that into stories, but why is it so scary? If it were a nightmare I would understand...
[ But he's made his way onto the sofa by now if he wasn't before, pulling a blanket onto the edge, hugging a pillow to his chest and pressing his head down against the cushion as he observes the marks on the ceiling, ]
... But what if it's not a nightmare? What if it's not wandering through a manor with the sickening feeling that you can never go back? There's plenty of stories like that too... There's beings in which promise you "the refuge of dreams." Endless stairs, endless happiness, a sleep that just goes on and on until you die...
[ Dazai clutches the pillow a little closer, eyelids closing halfway, a frown appearing, ]
... Why is that horrific? Humans fear death, but as far as ways to die... Wouldn't you say that dying for a happy dream would be a benevolent way to die?
[ A grimace, the faintest hint of bitterness followed by a smile, ]
After all, life is just one long dream, isn't it...?
no subject
[This talk of fairytales makes him consider two things.]
If someone is condemned to a lifetime of nothing but peaceful sleep, then why not let them? When you ask yourself that question, the only real answer is that the people around them dislike it. It's not exactly fair. I think people may fear the deaths of others even more than they fear death for themselves.
That being said...
If a happy dream is a benevolent death, and life is nothing but a long dream...
Wouldn't living a happy life to its end be a benevolent death too?
takes out my beast icon for u only
That's likely a big part of why he gets along so well with Odasaku; the way he thinks is different, unconcerned with what's normal, and so their conversations have an easy flow to him. That's not to say that he looks down on people with conventional ways of thinking; he likes them just fine, but they can't hold a conversation with him.
His expression flattens into something more neutral, before he closes his eyes and smiles, laying lat and holding the pillow close to his chest. It's a mellow smile, unemotional, unreadable, but perhaps to present company...
Maybe...
There's a kind of melancholy to it. His hands folded around a pillow like a child, almost like a corpse with its hands folded over its chest in a coffin, except his fingers dig in and clutch it.
Wake me from this oxidizing dream.
His feelings haven't changed. ]
That's exactly... Paulo Coelho once said, "Love is a moment in life, a dream, and at times, a painful dream." But life is on the whole exactly the same. It is nothing but a dream, as brief or long as it might be.
[ Then death could be the end to a long, long dream... ]
But to other people that's a curse. I can understand stories where it's a nightmare, where something is killing you, but what's so scary about a long staircase; what's scary about a refuge of dreams? What's scary about a fake world? It might be scary for the people around you to see you sleep for longer and longer hours, but why is it scary to think about dying in a fake world? If it's a happy dream...
[ Dazai can't understand, because he only has nightmares. Nightmares of a moment in time, a snapshot in time, the day that he died. He doesn't sleep at night, but rather falls asleep at desks and on couches; he chokes down sake and deprives himself of sleep until dreams no longer come.
But he shares none of that, instead pulling the pillow down and looking to Oda with a smile warm, affectionate, happy, that twists into a grimace just briefly, ]
Wouldn't you say that a fleeting world of happiness is better than a lifetime of pain?
no subject
[Dazai is ever the crying child Oda first said he was. It's heartbreaking in that way that you can only allow something to be heartbreaking for a few seconds at a time. Who doesn't want peace for a dear friend? Dazai suffers. Oda knows he does.]
I'd have trouble answering that question. [His voice is quiet, thoughtful.]
Suppose...I've never thought all that much about happiness itself. I made it through day to day just fine most of the time. Maybe I figure that's all you can really ask for.
[Something occurs to him, and he falls quiet for another moment.]
This place...where we are now...
Is that like the refuge you're talking about?
no subject
[ He taps his temple, letting his arm rest over his eyes, covering out the light as he lays with his knees up. One rocks back and forth, starting to fall to the side before he brings it back up to click against the other. ]
The world doesn't really exist in the way that we think it does. Humans just developed sensory input in a way that allows the brain to piece together our own world. There are pieces of the world that we can't interact with, and there are things that don't match our perception of them.
[ Which isn't to say that there is no reality or descend into solipsism and nihilism, but rather at once an addition and a counterpoint to his previous assertion. People can be happy in a fake world. They can be happy in a dream world. They can be happy because the two aren't all that different.
It's academic jargon, but it is a way of affirming Odasaku's words. This isn't quite the world he yearns for most; it's too unstable, too erratic, something that he can't control and protect. It's one where everything can still be taken from him. But it's one where he can live.
He'd never thought about happiness all that much either. It seemed inconsequential to him. Dazai's life was always just Dazai's life; empty, gray, painful.
Dazai pauses to to collect his thoughts. Odasaku can't match Dazai's level of intellect and cunning any better than anyone else, but he's sharp; he's perceptive, one of the few people who have been able to so thoroughly trick Dazai, with a high perception and level of emotional intelligence that Dazai could never hope to match. It sometimes felt like Odasaku could perceive Dazai's feelings better than Dazai himself could ever hope to.
Dazai is a crying child; he's a lost child who finally found his house; he's a twenty-two year old boy who was far too intelligent to be able to interact with the world - a fact that he's leaned into more than away from. ]
I had a nice dream recently, [ He lifts his arm back up, gesturing vaguely, though his gaze stays on the ceiling, ] I didn't think that was possible for me anymore, it's been so many years.
[ There's a bubbling little laugh. It's pleasant, affectionate. Though it wasn't quite a dream either. He still hasn't seen a real one; there's only nightmares. There's only a moment in time, a memory, played on an endless loop - reach, grasp, find his grip empty; a red stain on his palm that blurs in and out of focus, the faint smell of smoke and the resounding silence, followed by a sound that he only recognizes after some time to be his own stifled sobs.
Not quite a dream, but just as ethereal and fleeting. ]
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[It makes him sad. It makes him happy. He doesn't feel lonely anymore. There's guilt. He's glad that Dazai's here. He's glad that he's not alone. He's glad that he has someone near who cares enough to put a bandage on his brow.
[His heart swells with woeful affection. He finds himself sitting on the ground with his back pressed up against the couch. He reaches onto the table and takes a pack of cigarettes to light up; offers one to Dazai, as is only polite.]
Let's do what we said. Let's explore this world.
There's no more reason to go anywhere else. You said so yourself.
[Maybe Dazai isn't meant for happiness, but he can have something. If he likes this place, and he wants to stay here, he can have that, at least. He should.]
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[ He takes the cigarette and taps the top of Odasaku's head with his index finger. ]
... Never had to join the Port Mafia.
[ There's others too, but none that Odasaku would know. He passes over them as readily as he does himself. Dazai doesn't smoke, but he fiddles with the cigarette.
He speaks of the world with a genuine affection, something that fills his entire heart; the words are as warm and gentle as a summer breeze. He lolls his head to finally look at the other, his gaze not quite matching his tone; there's that emptiness that always seems to find its way back to him which mingles with that softness.He rolls onto his side shortly after, dropping the pillow behind him and instead folding one arm to use as a pillow instead.
It's the life that he has now which changed that world's trajectory. Sometimes, that's enough for him to feel like his life has some meaning. ]
... I'm happy that a world like that exists. From the bottom of my heart, I'm glad I was able to see it.
[ Though maybe it's pointless to share any of this. It's difficult to understand and easy to dismiss, as are all things with him. It's easier yet to miss what's buried beneath those feelings - that bitter jealousy and resentment for having been born in this world and not that one,for only being able to yearn and want, things that mingle with but can't trump the comfort of just knowing it exists; his love for that world, imprinted on him, a dream that hasn't fully faded away yet; a world that he wants others to love, for it's a miracle that it exists.
It's a complicated feeling, so... ]
But...
[ Dazai trails off, instead watching. ]
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[It's a surprisingly sentimental dream, Oda thinks. Dazai even thought up something for the boss to do. Maybe it shouldn't be so surprising. Dazai's version of a happy ending may be a strange one, but he talks about them often enough.
[Something brings Oda's awareness to the beating of his own heart, though it's meant to be still. It's one of those moments where Dazai's presence is such that one has no choice but to hang onto every word. There's weight to them. Oda can tell. He wants to know everything that Dazai's thinking. He always wants to know what he's thinking.
[Perhaps too quietly, he urges:]
Go on.
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He hesitates, his mouth opening and closing, expression shifting several times and his gaze darting about. It's nerves, and it's hesitation, but more than that it's just a simple inability to find the words.
He's had so long to find them. He's had four long years of sitting next to an empty barstool or at a grave. Valentine's Day would come and he'd brag about how many chocolates he'd gotten before toasting. Christmas. New Years. Days say with his back against a tombstone.
He never learned how to move on past simple yearning. There was never any opportunity. After some thought he pushes himself up, opting to join him on the floor. Dazai speaks as he does so, ]
You were right. It is better being on the side that saves people. I like it better, and I decided to become a good man, but... The truth is...
[ He settles down, reaching up and brushing his fingertips against the bandage on his head, fingers lighting tracing down his temple, near the eye; one that he'd lack the ability to see out of in another life. ]
... I could never really manage it. I'm the most selfish man alive.
[ He's watching, searching for even the slightest shift in expression. Dazai exhales softly, particles of memories hanging in the air, fragments of emotions that could never reform themselves into something whole. ]
I would kill the entire world if it meant you get to live.
[ Those words come out easier than the rest. His gaze is clear and earnest, without even the slightest hint of doubt, and entirely unrepentant. ]
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[It was selfish to leave him. This unique Hell they've found themselves in has reminded Odasaku of that every waking moment of every single day. Dazai is near. It's impossible to shake. Odasaku knew what that final charge would bring, and he did it anyway. He wouldn't blame Dazai for hating him.
[But Dazai doesn't hate him. He grieves him. That's a new and nauseating feeling, to be grieved, to be that great source of pain.
[Odasaku reaches out and grips Dazai's shoulder tight with his hand. Despite it all, he manages the most subdued of smiles, stark just for the fact that it's on Odasaku's face at all.]
Lucky for the world, no one needs to worry about that right now. Isn't that something?
Dazai. [Blue eyes search his friends face. Something pleads in them.] I'm glad I got to see you again. I'm glad you're here with me now.
i started it with beastzai i have no room to judge
There's so many people who he blames, who he resents, and himself most of all, but never the man before him.
The only thing he had wanted was to see him one more time, but that's a lie. He wanted so much more, but if he let those feelings spill out, he would never be able to stem the flow.
He flinches lightly at the touch to his shoulder, a sheepish look appearing, like he's trying to determine whether to apologize or lean into that kindness.
Humanity doesn't come naturally to Dazai. He doesn't know how to navigate it.
His chest compresses, his heart pounds, and it feels as though it might burst in his chest as his hand reaches up. His fingertips brush against the hand on his shoulder, and there's something uncertain and bittersweet in that awkward smile of his.
It's a look that Odasaku will recognize from back when their friendship started, a sixteen year old boy cautiously hoping that someone cared, backpedaling the second that it seemed dangerous.
It's the look of a person who thinks that even just the faintest acceptance of what he has will cause what he has now to disappear, be stolen away by the world.
He likes that world he saw. Dazai loves it. He loves it more than life itself, because it was a world that was his - it was a world where nothing could be taken away from him. ]
... You're right... I like this world.
[ And there it is again, the fretful look of a teenager searching for any sign of disapproval, anything that might be a danger. The look of a wary black cat. It eases though, and his smile settles into something easier.
There's a heat at the back of his eyes, but just a bit. And after some thought and hesitation - ]
... This is the world I want to live in. I'm happy here.
[ That feels important to say, somehow. And, more hesitantly still - ]
This world is less painful than others.
CRIES LMK IF U WANNA WRAP OR GO ON I AM EATING THIS
We'll stay, then. [We'll stay. They will stay.] I like it too.
So, I'm right here with you. Dazai.
MAYHAPS... A LIL MORE... cw: suicide talk
You are. I want to die.
[ That's his response, pulling his knees close to his chest. Then, weakly, ]
I'm going to kill myself right now.
[ He folds his arms and buries his face against it. Dazai can't articulate what's there, not that desire to die while he still has a bit of happiness, not that desire to be lost before he can lose, and not that inability to die now - it would be so easy if it wouldn't hurt Odasaku. It would be so, so easy, but now it's not, because he doesn't want his death to hurt.
Dazai doesn't know how to say any of that, so he repeats, in a voice that should be light and joking but comes out quiet and miserable instead, because he is happy, Dazai is the happiest he's been in four long years, ]
I'm going to find a rope and hang myself.
OF COURSE god this fucking ripped me apart
i might not recover from this one
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