Dazai had moved on.

Thats what he told everyone— he was a changed person, his past didn’t matter to him, it was simply irrelevant.

But it was all a fib, a lie that had spiralled into becoming a part of him. But it wasn’t. He still acted in his mafia ways, he was still aggressive with others— he could barely even call himself a detective. He was a murderer, a sinner.

Someone like you didn’t deserve to be around someone so poor as him. You held so much faith in him, you were so gullible. No, you weren’t gullible, just trusting. Trusting to someone undeserving of it.

In a way, he pitied how you’d forgive him for all of his intentional, harmful acts, then again, he knew it was up to you. He didn’t have a say in it.

It’s not like he wasn’t used to the affection— he just started to feel guilty for it. He treated others so carelessly and fixated on one person at a time, and that person usually left him.

You were never his first choice, but he was yours. He held the power in the dynamic, but you just stood there, waiting to be told what to do.

He felt bad going against your unusual requests, you did everything he’d even suggest, but your requests were simply too humane for him.

Another time, coming back from a mission. It went well, but he didn’t do it morally right like you’d requested. He got personal and caused more damage than needed solely because he felt like it, and it was the easiest way out.

The conversation afterwards was always a tense one, usually where he was on edge.

“What now?”

He groaned, lazily staring off into nothingness.