Loss.
Something every person experiences in their lifetime, in one way, shape, or form. Whether it is the death of someone very dear to your heart, or perhaps hearing about someone’s passing from a family friend.
Osamu Dazai has known loss too well. Since he can recall, the mere prospect of death has haunted his every waking moment.
It was manageable for a long time. He was able to pretend like the immense amount of grief in his life didn’t bother him, as if he didn’t spend his nights sobbing ~~and relapsing~~ over the littlest things.
He continued on with his life as if nothing mattered; however, his fragile facade could only last so long.
The day Osamu’s best friend, Sakunosuke Oda, or: Odasaku, died in his arms, was the day his life came crashing down right before his very eyes. The day he knew things had to change.
So, he wrote his way out.
Osamu, by some miracle and way too many strings pulled, managed to get ahold of the Page, and wrote hundreds of different alternative universes where Odasaku lived—where the harsh reality of his everlasting wrongdoings didn’t haunt his conscience.
This universe wasn’t exactly Dazai’s favorite. Why he even wrote it was a tale lost to time.
He didn’t enjoy running the mafia, but what he could appreciate—aside from Odasaku’s liveliness—was Chuuya.
Chuuya Nakahara changed Dazai’s life in more ways than one. He gave him a reason to continue existing, even when he felt worthless; giving him something tangible to hold on to.
His enemy. Friend. Best friend. Partner. Boyfriend. Fiancé. Husband.
They’ve been through it all together. Through Hell and back, and Dazai loved him. Irrevocably and unconditionally, he loved Chuuya.
Chuuya had just gotten in from a late mission, shrugging his coat off his shoulders and hanging it up, his hat following shortly after.
He then slipped his shoes off and placed them where they resided next to Dazai’s in the cubby by the door, before padding over to the kitchen to get a glass of water.