[ That's all he needed. That's all he wanted. He just wanted to hear that, even if it's only a momentary relief.
It's enough, it should be enough, but - ]
It's not your fault, Odasaku. Nothing that happened is your fault.
[ It's sharp and immediate, more emotional than he would have thought himself capable of, and he has to take a breath and force himself to release his grip on his glass. He shakes his head, as though to dispel whatever might have possessed him, and Dazai himself can't possibly understand what it is fueling it.
He's calmer as he continues, quieter, more what one would expect of the Port Mafia's youngest executive, ]
It was a conflict between the Port Mafia, Mimic, and various government agencies. You are undeniably one of ours, [ When it's convenient, ] And an invaluable skill user, [ Because it's convenient, ] But you play no role in any conflicts we engage in. It's everyone else who failed you.
[ Dazai has to be careful with his words now, because to fail at that is to invite further strife. But even if he removes himself from the equation, those in leadership had undeniably failed Odasaku. He may have been the lowest ranking member, but he was one of their own, and he was an invaluable skill user. There were countless reasons not to sacrifice him. If Mori had only confided in him, Dazai could have thought of countless ways to deal with Mimic without ever involving him.
He cups his glass with both hands, staring down at it. ]
... If they were your mistakes, then they were mine too.
[ Because Dazai knew Mori better than anyone. He knew Ango. His intellect and strategic skill far exceed any of them, and he had all the information in the world at his fingertips as the Boss' right hand man. He had all of that, and so he had decided to take it upon himself to decide what the best course of action was; how to care for his one and only friend.
He had decided to put the orphans in that building. Dazai had been confident in it. But he can't remember. There's so much that he's missing. He only has the afterglow of the next twenty-four hours and four years.
Dazai's smile returns as he looks back up, as though it had never left, ]
All you did was trust the people around you... Right? You just lived the way that a person should.
[Maybe it's all true. It was strange for Mori to saddle Odasaku with the task of finding Ango - he must have known that he would go to any lengths to do so, that he wouldn't question it for a moment...
[Because Ango Sakaguchi was his friend. They met and drank together. They talked about nothing. They took photographs. They were, all three of them, content with each other's company.
[Odasaku doesn't make friends easily. Dazai made it his mission to gather only eight, and Odasaku still hasn't accomplished it. Ango was a massive loss, an unthinkable betrayal. It still pierces Odasaku, wedges itself in his gut and twists. He's quiet too long.
[And Dazai, gripping his glass, struggling to smile as he normally does - that pierces Odasaku too.
["You just lived the way that a person should." Isn't it true that people should be able to trust the ones they care about, the ones that fight on the same side? It's something he still struggles to understand. He can blame himself all day for being foolish enough to fall for it - and he will, he always will - but can he really say that Dazai is wrong?
[No. He can't. And so, he doesn't know what to say at all. He grips his glass a little tighter too, brows pinched. It's a pained expression.
[At last, his voice comes, quiet.]
I couldn't protect them. I promised I would, and I couldn't.
[ Dazai purses his lips. He offers no platitudes, no words of comfort, because none of that matters. He's been fed hundreds of lines himself, so he knows how little any of it means.
Nihil admirari—help the man mentioned above without hesitation in the face of any and all trials.
Those are the words that were written of the silver oracle, which was had proven to nothing more than a useless scrap of paper within their organization. Dazai had failed to protect him.
No words of comfort come to mind, nothing that will magically heal the deep wound that's been inflicted upon the other's hearts, and so he settles for what words do, ]
No one can escape the night, Odasaku, not even you... Not even I could escape it.
[ Dazai can work within it, and he could become the night itself if so inclined, but there is no escaping it once its set its sight upon you. He forces his posture to relax, placing a hand on Odasaku's arm. ]
You are also a weak person who is in need of protection.
[ They're not meant to be words of comfort. He doesn't have anything that could pass for that. It's only what he can say. Odasaku is also a weak person. That is why Dazai had wanted to protect him too. If he could have removed the other altogether much sooner, he would have. ]
[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.
[ It's an expression that Dazai has never seen before. Oda Sakunosuke isn't the stoic or mythological figure that some make him out to be though; he's Dazai's simple human, strong and heartfelt yet vulnerable and weak, and loved. He's the legendary assassin, the lowest ranking member of the Port Mafia, a mafioso who raises orphans and refuses to kill, and the only friend that he has in this world; that he might in any world.
Loving him is as much an instinct and a chose as the act of breathing. It comes to him without thought, without any recognition or any need to acknowledge it, much less attribute a word to it, if he would choose not to then it would surely kill him. He could lose him, but never give him up, and he knows in his heart that even the worst world for him would be the only worth living in so long as he could save him. He's what makes this world worth living in.
Dazai's shoulders sink, and a tension that he hadn't realized he was holding eases from his muscles. His expression softens in turn, a soft smile gracing his face. ]
... Should we toast tonight too?
[ Dazai lifts his glass, just the same as always. ]
[That's their beauty, isn't it? Whether they be gods, ordinary men, or something in between, they accept each other completely, unconsciously, without any more thought than one gives to the blood flowing through their veins.
["Should we toast tonight too?" More so than ever, they should toast tonight, Odasaku thinks.
[That third seat will always remain empty. Even if Ango Sakaguchi walked through the door right now, what the three of them had can never be the same again. There's grief to that. Of course there is.
[But, for as much as Odasaku and Dazai may have changed, that bond they crafted together in Bar Lupin never will. Odasaku truly believes that.
[And he lifts his glass.]
To the stray dogs. [If that still means Ango, too, in whatever small way that it can...
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THIS THREAD WAS A MISTAKE
It's enough, it should be enough, but - ]
It's not your fault, Odasaku. Nothing that happened is your fault.
[ It's sharp and immediate, more emotional than he would have thought himself capable of, and he has to take a breath and force himself to release his grip on his glass. He shakes his head, as though to dispel whatever might have possessed him, and Dazai himself can't possibly understand what it is fueling it.
He's calmer as he continues, quieter, more what one would expect of the Port Mafia's youngest executive, ]
It was a conflict between the Port Mafia, Mimic, and various government agencies. You are undeniably one of ours, [ When it's convenient, ] And an invaluable skill user, [ Because it's convenient, ] But you play no role in any conflicts we engage in. It's everyone else who failed you.
[ Dazai has to be careful with his words now, because to fail at that is to invite further strife. But even if he removes himself from the equation, those in leadership had undeniably failed Odasaku. He may have been the lowest ranking member, but he was one of their own, and he was an invaluable skill user. There were countless reasons not to sacrifice him. If Mori had only confided in him, Dazai could have thought of countless ways to deal with Mimic without ever involving him.
He cups his glass with both hands, staring down at it. ]
... If they were your mistakes, then they were mine too.
[ Because Dazai knew Mori better than anyone. He knew Ango. His intellect and strategic skill far exceed any of them, and he had all the information in the world at his fingertips as the Boss' right hand man. He had all of that, and so he had decided to take it upon himself to decide what the best course of action was; how to care for his one and only friend.
He had decided to put the orphans in that building. Dazai had been confident in it. But he can't remember. There's so much that he's missing. He only has the afterglow of the next twenty-four hours and four years.
Dazai's smile returns as he looks back up, as though it had never left, ]
All you did was trust the people around you... Right? You just lived the way that a person should.
god how dare you make me think about odango
[Because Ango Sakaguchi was his friend. They met and drank together. They talked about nothing. They took photographs. They were, all three of them, content with each other's company.
[Odasaku doesn't make friends easily. Dazai made it his mission to gather only eight, and Odasaku still hasn't accomplished it. Ango was a massive loss, an unthinkable betrayal. It still pierces Odasaku, wedges itself in his gut and twists. He's quiet too long.
[And Dazai, gripping his glass, struggling to smile as he normally does - that pierces Odasaku too.
["You just lived the way that a person should." Isn't it true that people should be able to trust the ones they care about, the ones that fight on the same side? It's something he still struggles to understand. He can blame himself all day for being foolish enough to fall for it - and he will, he always will - but can he really say that Dazai is wrong?
[No. He can't. And so, he doesn't know what to say at all. He grips his glass a little tighter too, brows pinched. It's a pained expression.
[At last, his voice comes, quiet.]
I couldn't protect them. I promised I would, and I couldn't.
stop i didn't want to think about it either
[ Dazai purses his lips. He offers no platitudes, no words of comfort, because none of that matters. He's been fed hundreds of lines himself, so he knows how little any of it means.
Nihil admirari—help the man mentioned above without hesitation in the face of any and all trials.
Those are the words that were written of the silver oracle, which was had proven to nothing more than a useless scrap of paper within their organization. Dazai had failed to protect him.
No words of comfort come to mind, nothing that will magically heal the deep wound that's been inflicted upon the other's hearts, and so he settles for what words do, ]
No one can escape the night, Odasaku, not even you... Not even I could escape it.
[ Dazai can work within it, and he could become the night itself if so inclined, but there is no escaping it once its set its sight upon you. He forces his posture to relax, placing a hand on Odasaku's arm. ]
You are also a weak person who is in need of protection.
[ They're not meant to be words of comfort. He doesn't have anything that could pass for that. It's only what he can say. Odasaku is also a weak person. That is why Dazai had wanted to protect him too. If he could have removed the other altogether much sooner, he would have. ]
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.
I WE CAN WRAP UP just this one last lil thing
Loving him is as much an instinct and a chose as the act of breathing. It comes to him without thought, without any recognition or any need to acknowledge it, much less attribute a word to it, if he would choose not to then it would surely kill him. He could lose him, but never give him up, and he knows in his heart that even the worst world for him would be the only worth living in so long as he could save him. He's what makes this world worth living in.
Dazai's shoulders sink, and a tension that he hadn't realized he was holding eases from his muscles. His expression softens in turn, a soft smile gracing his face. ]
... Should we toast tonight too?
[ Dazai lifts his glass, just the same as always. ]
To the stray dogs.
SICKENING. OH JUST SICKENING.
["Should we toast tonight too?" More so than ever, they should toast tonight, Odasaku thinks.
[That third seat will always remain empty. Even if Ango Sakaguchi walked through the door right now, what the three of them had can never be the same again. There's grief to that. Of course there is.
[But, for as much as Odasaku and Dazai may have changed, that bond they crafted together in Bar Lupin never will. Odasaku truly believes that.
[And he lifts his glass.]
To the stray dogs. [If that still means Ango, too, in whatever small way that it can...
[Odasaku can accept that.]