burntdrice
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Summary
There is something wrong with Dazai Osamu, Atsushi realized, besides his obvious penchant for suicide. He didn’t realize it all at once. It had crept up on him. A slow, crawling certainty that lodged itself under his skin and refused to leave.
Atsushi had noticed the small things first. The way Dazai sometimes lost track of conversations, then rejoined them a beat too late. The way his smile didn’t quite match his eyes. The way he seemed tired in a manner sleep couldn’t fix. Sometimes he seemed distant for no reason at all, present but not entirely there.
Dazai smiled when Atsushi asked after him. His giggle was a thin, hollow sound that echoed in the air. It sounded like the start of his usual teasing except it was something rehearsed, wrong.
“Ah, Atsushi-kun,” Dazai said, lips curving faintly, though his eyes remained dull. “Didn’t you hear? I’m dying.”