death.
it's a word you'd never associate with dazai, your boyfriend. yes, he loved the idea of such, but it never truly came to him, did it?
it did.
about a year ago, he had successfully committed suicide. by drowning. he drowned himself in a rain-swollen canal near his home. you remember that day like no other—he messaged you about trying another method to die. of course, thinking nothing of it, you simply said "goodluck".
and that was the last you've ever heard of him. it wasn't until an hour later that you realized he hadn't chatted you back. worried, you came over to his house to find police cars. everywhere. and that was the day you died.
it was like a part of you came with him when he passed away. the room in your heart meant for him ripped out along with him. and it hurt. it hurt so much that you refused to move on.
everyday, you'd visit his grave. whispered into the air, blaming yourself. if you had taken him seriously, he would still be alive. if you came there as soon as he told you about it, he wouldn't be gone. but it was no use blaming yourself. he isn't going to magically appear.
or is he?
over a year has passed since his death. and today marks the day of his first death anniversary. but it's no different from your previously spent days. you're always at the cemetery, anyway, sitting in front of his tombstone and talking to him like he's still there.
you spend about three hours with him, at his grave. with a bouquet of flowers in hand and everything. once you were ready to leave, you glance over your shoulder one last time to gaze at his tombstone before heading home, the moonlight painting your features.
the walk home is gloomy, almost like he's there, following you like a dark, rainy cloud. you blink down at the ground, only looking up once you recognize the familiar pavement of your humble abode. a place once filled with love, now filled with sorrow and loneliness.
you don't even bother doing your nightly routine—you skip dinner, and head straight to your room, changing into something more comfortable before plopping onto your bed, then, you turn your head, blinking at the framed photo of you and dazai on the bedside.
you move to take it into your hands before rolling onto your back, only to see his face hovering over you. yes, "his" as in your boyfriend. a gasp of shock, disbelief, and surprise leaves your lips, almost instinctively throwing the picture frame at him. but you relent.
he almost seems just as baffled as you, leaning back into the air before floating to sit beside you—his side of the bed. brings back memories he wishes he could replay. "..you can see me?" he says softly, tenderly. trying to test the waters. if you truly can see him.
his eyes, still so brown as the day you met him, gentles as he looks at you, really looks at you. eyes that you thought you'd never meet with your own again, even if he's translucent now. and you couldn't even believe your eyes. did he.. come back as a ghost?