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The cool wind caused Dazai to shiver as he sat on the edge of a rooftop in the heart of Yokohama. He looked down at the street below, illuminated by streetlights and stores that stayed open late into the night. He stared down at the people going on with their usual lives, oblivious to the dark side of the city which only came out at night. Dazai was far too familiar with that side of Yokohama, it had been three long years since he first experienced it. Three long years of bloodshed and cruelty. In a way he had become used to all of the violence, or perhaps he had just grown numb to it, he was unsure.
Beside him, Chuuya sat with his legs over the edge of the roof as he swung them back and forth. It was obvious that Chuuya was growing more impatient by the minute by the furrow in his brow.
It was uncomfortably silent between them both, usually if Dazai called Chuuya out to a place like this, Dazai would be chatting his ear off. This time it was different, Dazai did not even mutter a single word, he only let out a quiet hum in acknowledgement when Chuuya arrived at the rooftop. If the wind was not so loud from how high up they were, they would be able to hear a needle drop.
The silence started getting on Chuuya’s nerves, causing him to be the first to speak up, “Why’d you even tell me to come here?” Chuuya glanced over at Dazai, expecting the other to be staring back at him, but he was not, he was still staring down below. It was odd, Chuuya could tell that something was off, but he did not say anything about it.
Just as Chuuya was about to snap at Dazai for wasting his time, the man lifted his head and finally spoke up with an innocent smile stretched across his lips, “What do you mean?”
It was obvious what Dazai was trying to do, he was feigning innocence in an attempt to change the subject, and that only caused Chuuya’s irritation to grow more. Chuuya started to yell at Dazai, but he just drowned it out as his thoughts were preoccupied with other matters. It was not like Dazai to be so clear in his intentions of changing the subject if it was not going how he had liked.
It was obvious what Dazai was trying to do, he was feigning innocence in an attempt to change the subject. It was not like Dazai to be so clear in his intentions of changing the subject if it was not going how he had liked. This had only caused Chuuya’s irritation to grow, leading him to start yelling at the other. Dazai paid no attention to Chuuya’s words as his thoughts were preoccupied with other matters.
He was contemplating whether he should tell Chuuya about what he planned to do that night. He was unsure if the other would even be able to accept his words. If Chuuya did not, Dazai would not blame him; if the version of himself from three years ago heard of Dazai’s plans, he would not even believe his older self.
Dazai effectively hid his anxiety behind a smile. He knew that his plan was a bad idea, he knew that he should not go through with it, but he could not stop himself. There would be consequences for his actions, and he knew that far too well, but he was willing to do it anyway.
Usually he could control his heartbeat well, but for once in his life, while overcome with anxiousness, his heartbeat raced. He took a deep breath in, squeezed his eyes shut, grabbed the collar of Chuuya’s shirt, and crashed their lips together, cutting off Chuuya’s words.
Chuuya’s breath caught in his throat and his eyes went wide in shock. He had not expected the sudden kiss, and he was having trouble even processing it. Before Chuuya even properly realised what was happening, Dazai was already pulling away. They stared at each other with bright red faces, and for the first time Dazai looked panicked. Before Chuuya could even get a single word out of his gaping mouth, Dazai was standing and rushing away towards the rooftop exit.
He knew that what he did was greedy, he knew that he should not have kissed Chuuya. He felt guilty for it, as after a few days it would be known throughout the whole Port Mafia that the great — or rather horrible — Demon Prodigy had run away from the mafia like a dog with its tail between its legs. It was ironic, Dazai had always called Chuuya a dog, but really he was the dog all along, running away when it was most convenient for himself.
His heartbeat was pounding in his ears, his cheeks were hot, and he was close to hyperventilating. He felt ashamed and he knew it was selfish to kiss Chuuya. He knew that Chuuya would despise him, perhaps even hate him, especially after what was to come in only a few days, and Dazai would not blame the man for that.
Up to that point, Dazai’s life had been filled with self-sacrifices. He had never been one for doing things for his own selfish gain, but for once in his life he felt the need to take something for himself, no matter what the cost would be. It was a stupid idea to kiss Chuuya, he knew that far too well, though he could not stop himself at that moment.
He also knew that Chuuya would despise him in only a matter of a few days, perhaps even truly hate the man, but Dazai knew what he had to do. That night, he would seemingly disappear off of the face of the earth. He had it all planned out, he had a place to stay, and he had a new identity to use while on the run from the Port Mafia. It was risky, people who were traitors of the mafia were always hunted down and tortured, it was like a game of cat and mouse.
He knew he had one thing to look forward to; he and Chuuya would eventually meet in the future. He was unsure of when and how, but he was certain it would happen one day. Whether that would take only a year, five years, or even ten years, Dazai would wait impatiently to meet his partner.