Oh just give me Dazai and Chuuya being 15 and inseparable, saying they hate each other but being attached at the hip: on missions, in the PM, Not Dates to the arcade, the Yokohama pier, the city: being fifteen, finally having a friend, even though he’s an insufferable jackass (+)

Nights spent together in their dorm exhausted from a stakeout, too tired to write a report, too shaken to say anything—there was so much pain, so much blood, so much *screaming*—and one of them breaking the silence and letting the rivalry crumble even for just a few hours (+)

Them staying up watching shitty movies, playing on their game consoles, stupid mindless activities to get through the loneliness that isn’t so lonely with him nearby but we’re *not* friends, Boss, I just have nobody else to hang out with (+)

Give me them at 16 being AWKWARD and furious with their bodies: Training sessions where Chuuya looks *way too good* sweaty under that sunset light after beating the shit out of his subordinates or Dazai not looking *that* bad in the suit he had to wear for a PM meeting (+)

After they singlehandedly conquer the Dragon’s Head Conflict and earn the title of the *devastating* Double Black team of the Port Mafia, the tension grows between them; the stakes are higher; they’re getting older and climbing the hierarchy side by side (+)

They’re still each other’s shadows, reflections, parallel lines never touching; but there’s just *something* buzzing between the two of them and it all explodes and *snaps* one day when they’re arguing, at each other’s throats, suddenly kissing and /oh/ this is it (+)

Give me years 16 to 17 marked with heated arguments that turn to sloppy makeout sessions, yelling that quickly morphs to suffocated moans behind locked motel rooms, them being each other’s firsts and each never *dare* admitting this is the only thing that makes sense anymore (+)

Them being stupid and telling themselves this isn’t a Thing—they’re just fooling around, they’re 17, what the fuck is there to say? Staying the night but gone the next morning. The tension only being sated when they’re wrapped around each other and pleading for it to be enough(+)

It all coming to a bitter stalemate when Dazai turns 18 and rumors start up about him being the next heir under Mori. The weight of his executive position leading him further away from Chuuya. Chuuya being *fine* w that and taking on overseas missions just to be away from him (+)

*Soukoku drifting apart after 3 years of What The Hell Is This and that’s why we dont see Chuuya in the Dark Era. They’ve both convinced themselves it was a phase it wasn’t /anything/ and good riddance and Dazai’s bored again but at least he has Oda* (+)

But Oda dies, it’s Mori’s fault, and what’s even there to stay for? Leaving should be the easiest thing in the world. (+)

Dazai and Chuuya, 18, still—*still* waiting for the other to just Say Something, Anything, goddamnit—but it’s too little too late. Dazai doesn’t say goodbye even though 3 years ago he thought he’d never have to bc at least he had insufferable, jackass, cocky Chuuya by his side(+)

And when the flames from that pathetic bomb Dazai planted inside Chuuya’s car finally engulf the Yokohama underground, and Chuuya’s reaching for the Petrus and shaking with denial—“he’ll come back, the bastard always comes back”—maybe it finally hits both of them that, (+)

Just a little bit, maybe, something died and is still dying, takes the four years until they see each other again to die one last time. And when they meet in that dungeon, the scarlet sunset filtering in through the crevices, (+)

Before they fight, bicker, and go on their merry way like nothing ever happened, they both, in sync, as other halves do, think: “God* I missed you.”

It’s so complicated and hard and impossible now (+)

But at one point, for one shining, brilliant moment, they were young, each other’s, and it was happiness.

//END.