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Oda cradles Dazai close, shaky hand brushing through the younger’s hair as a soothing tactic. “Osamu. Keep your eyes open.” His voice is sharp, but not unkind, tinged with worry as well.
“‘Saku…? Sorry. Caught me off guard…”
Rain pours down, soaking the two to their bones. It’s only reflecting Oda’s emotions, of course, but Dazai shivers, and Oda pulls his mortal closer. “No, sweetheart. It’s okay. I’m not mad at you, hm? I could never be mad at you.”
“Mmm….I know…” Dazai blinks at Oda, eyes bleary. “Cold.”
“Don’t go to bed, okay? You can’t.”
“Hurts…” A pause as Dazai presses his head against the older’s chest, looking for his heartbeat. “What’re you gonna do…?”
“First? Fix you up. Then, find whoever did this and destroy them .”
“‘Saku…don’t get too mad…”
“They hurt you.”
“I don’t matter much…’m just…a mortal, and you’re a god. You would have lost interest in me eventually.” Dazai’s saying this as if Oda hasn’t fallen in love with him, as if the rain hasn’t simply been better since the two had met.
“No. That’s not true.” Oda pulls Dazai close, so very close, letting the brunette’s lifeblood stain onto his purple kimono— dyed intricately with shibori patterns —so very different from Oda’s own ichor that ran through his veins. “You— Dazai Osamu, my life has been simply better with you around. So I need you to stay.”
Dazai chuckles, hands gripping onto the fabric of Oda’s shirt weakly. “You really would do anything for me, wouldn’t you?”
“My dear,” The god breathes in response as he pulls Dazai closer— steps into the space between sky and earth, matter and chaos, to appear at the honden of his shrine, the tatami mats soft under his feet as he lays the younger down. “I would flood the world to keep you happy.”
Oda is, to put it lightly, furious , as he works on bandaging his Dazai’s stomach. He knows, from the rain pounding against the gabled roofs and the stone pathways outside, that people will come to ask him to stop it, lest their crops get flooded.
He’s not particularly interested in doing that .
“Dazai,” He murmurs, brushing hair away from his mortal’s forehead, noting how hot the younger was running. Dazai never ran hot. He was always cold, and perhaps that was due to the fact that their ability was a nullification, but…Dazai was running a fever. “Can you open your eyes for me?”
“‘Saku…?” The younger turns into the hand, face creased in confusion as he wakes up at the sound of Oda’s voice, but not opening his eyes just yet. “Warm…”
“You’re running a fever, Osamu.” The god whispers, noting the blue tinge on his lover’s lips. “You need medical care that I can’t—” His voice drops into a soft little sob. “That I can’t give. That I don’t know how to give—”
“Oh…’s okay…” Dazai slurs out, hands reaching to clasp at Oda’s own. “‘S not your fault….nn…cold…”
“My wonderful boy…” The rain drums more and more heavily against the honden’s roof, quickly whipping up into a storm. “Stay….”
It was not, as most people thought, easy to become a god, unless you were born one already, like Oda, the sole rain god, or Chuuya, the red-headed god of war.
Though it was rare, some mortals did end up becoming gods. Usually through near-death experiences where their blood soaked the ground and they slipped away from the living world, there were rare moments when one ascended at their weddings or their births.
Dazai Osamu’s ascension was nothing that kind as he lay, fever-sick and burning up, much like Icarus did when he brushed up against the sun.
Outside, the storm kept going.
Oda knows for a fact that his Dazai shouldn’t survive the fever. So it’s…not much of a shock when the younger’s chest stills for a heartstopping moment before starting again.
But seeing Dazai’s chest stop…that was something he had never wanted to see, and never wanted to again. For a fleeting moment, Oda knew with stunning clarity that he would never love again, because Dazai was the only one in the world for him.
Oh , Oda thinks, as the rain lessens, just a bit, though through no influence of his own. Dazai is like me now.
Carefully, he leans down, brushing a kiss to the new god’s forehead. Dazai makes a contented little noise at that, and relaxes further. “I’ll be back, if you’ll still want me after this, Osamu.”
He needed to find whoever did this.
It wasn’t hard , not really. As he had thought, people had started to appear at his shrine, cleansing themselves with the chozuya , passing through his komainu — guardian lion-dogs —before ending up in the shrine’s haiden , though most were too afraid to go outside and face the storm, Oda’s wrath incarnate, and ended up praying at their home shrines.
It was even easier to figure out who had done it, stray smug thoughts drifting through their prayers.
And Oda was going to give them mercy. Really, he was. He’s a merciful god, truly.
But then he learned that they had intended Dazai, his Dazai, as a sacrifice. So he…simply had to kill them.
He doesn’t regret it. Not before, and especially not after, with the blood staining his tanto blade and the bodies of the ones who had done this to Dazai on the floors of their homes. Oda had served under Kouyou-kami once, the goddess of all the dark deeds in the world. It was easy to remember those old skills, muscle memory as they were.
He needs to get back to Dazai. So, again, he steps into the places between the stars and space, between the dark and the light as he brushes his fingers along the weavings of war and of peace, intangible to mortals.
“Dazai.” He breathes as he steps out of that liminal space and curls against Dazai’s side, arm resting around the younger’s waist, tracing little circles into the skin under the kosode they were wearing. “Won’t you wake up for me, beautiful boy? Your fever’s gone.”
“You’re warm…” Dazai mutters, even as he blinks awake, and snuggles closer to Oda’s chest, who happily obliges, pulling the younger so very close. “My—? What—? It broke? That…Odasaku, that’s not possible. I could feel myself slipping away.”
“I—” The god sighs and reaches to play with Dazai’s hair. “You became a god, sweetheart. One like me. I only figured it out because of when I kissed your forehead. You relaxed, and the rain lessened a bit. I— I was still furious with the people who had done it, so I knew—”
“You sound worried.” They blink, cup Oda’s cheek lazily, as if this were just another morning stolen away in Dazai’s home. “Why do you sound worried, hm?”
“I just—” Oda flushes, looking away. “You know, I was going to ask you to marry me. But…do you even want me anymore? After what I’ve done?”
“Have you hurt me? No. You have done nothing wrong, my Odasaku.”
“In my anger, I’ve flooded— I’ve ruined people’s lives—”
“Do not feel guilt over that. You cannot control your emotions. And of course I’d want to marry you, silly boy. You’re the only one for me, after all.” Dazai offers a smile, bumping his forehead against Oda’s carefully. “My Odasaku. I’m with you. All the way, and certainly in every way that could possibly ever matter.”
“My Osamu…you mean it?”
“Oh, of course I do. I wouldn’t say it otherwise.” Dazai’s breathing settles in time with Oda’s own as the rain lessens and starts to slowly patter to a stop.
The two breathe like that for a while, in sync with each other and pressed close, so very close to each other. And for a moment or two, Dazai and Oda seem as if they cannot be separated from each other.
“I’m not letting you out of my sight for a while, you know?”
“I know, my protective boy. I know.”