badend | ( active ) bungo stray dogs: osamu dazai

[Though Oda looks impassive, Dazai's words coupled with melancholy longing stir his curiosity. So when Dazai expands on the subject of Mori, Oda's genuine surprise breaks through his expression.]

—!

[The former Boss is still alive, though he's the director of an orphanage.

Then Oda's surprise shifts into perplexity.

Four years since the conflict with Mimic—Oda had personally resolved that conflict on his own, it's the reason he'd died. The last four years, the ones that followed without him, weren't as interesting as the ones before them; as in, the very same years that Oda...

What does it mean? He studies Dazai, searching for—]

... How—? [What does he want to ask here? Where does he want to begin?] —When did...?

Well... One thing at a time...

[ Dazai falls silent for awhile. He stares ahead without really seeing what's before him. He opens his mouth, then closes it, for once seeming entirely uncertain of what to say. What to say, how much to say... But eventually he seems to come to a conclusion, and he shakes his head, ]

Mori-san was never cut out to be the Port Mafia's Boss. I told him when he first assumed the position... I thought this role would suit him better.

[ As always, Dazai knows what's best for the people around him as much as he does who's best suited to the roles he needs filled.

It's something that others would find difficult to understand, but Dazai does. He would be happier as a doting father than a leader. But everyone has their role to play, and in the original world that was his; in this world, it belongs to Dazai. ]

As to how it occurred, it's a bit of a long story, but the previous director was killed by a boy who had been raised there. That boy was under my direct command at the time, and I was obliged to take responsibility for him and find a replacement. Mori-san fit the bill, so I decided to spare him in exchange for assuming the role of the new director. I would have the world at large believe I had assassinated him, and he would be able to live freely.

[ He stops there there. It doesn't answer the question of when, much less any others that it might have brought on, but that alone is quite a bit to take in. ]

[What should he make of that expression where Dazai seems so faraway, so not present?

Still, patiently he listens; the tale as Dazai depicts it is understandable enough, but it doesn't align with Oda's experiences at all. It's much like this peculiar place they're in, reminiscence in divergence. Yet for how outrageous the story seems, Oda still trusts and believes his friend.

He stops in his tracks to better process what he's just taken in, he takes a deep breath, holds, and then lets out a sigh.]

...I don't. recall. any of that happening.

[There's a confused disappointment in his tone, as if there's an obvious answer that he'd failed to pick up on. And his heart beats just a little faster. He manages to keep his breathing even.]

When did any of this happen? [If it was when he was still around, then how could he not have noticed?]

That's right. You wouldn't...

[ Those words come out slowly and quietly, though Dazai already knew that. His eyes roll up as he says them before dropping down again, and finally Dazai nods with a wry, apologetic smile.

It only lasts so long before he straightens his posture, then stiffens. One hand sliding out of his pockets to place it over his heart. ]

Let me start over. I am Osamu Dazai, the current Boss of the Port Mafia. I succeeded Mori-san at eighteen, shortly before the conflict with Mimic... You don't anything like that happening though, right? You remember the Boss sending you on a mission to find Ango. You saved Akutagawa-kun, but in doing so caught the attention in Mimic's leader. And at the end - [ A beat. ] - You died. I remember all of that too, as clear as day, but...

[ His fingernails scrape against the fabric of his jacket as his fingers start to curl, but he forces them to remain splayed out. He removes his hand, gesturing with his palm up. ]

This is my first meeting you.

[That low and deliberate response sends a chill through Oda. As Dazai continues, his words and actions become increasingly dark and ominous. Oda's heart picks up pace, and he is overwhelmed by the time Dazai finishes. There are traces of shock and awe in his expression as he takes a reflexive step back.

Though summarized, Oda is all too familiar with this version of the conflict with Mimic. He matches memories with Dazai's words, squeezing his eyes shut as he fills in details Dazai glosses over as 'the end'—Kousuke, Katsumi, Yuu, Shinji, Sakura. Realizing he was screaming only when he connected it to the pain in his throat and his inability to breathe.

Usually he'd be more detached from his memories, but the agony and despair of the experience are so viscerally destabilizing that it's like he's reliving it. His heart is racing as much as it's aching; his breathing staggers as it comes and goes, and he feels like there's a brick in his throat.

Still, he follows the tape through, rapidly jumping to taking down all of Mimic, his last battle with Gide, and his last words to his dear friend.

Dazai. Dazai was with him in the end. Dazai recalls this version of events, yet it's the first Dazai is meeting him.

It's hard to tell, but it takes a beat or perhaps several for Oda to compose himself, to clear his throat, to open his eyes. And when his gaze falls on the Boss of the Port Mafia, there still is faith and trust.]

So... you're Dazai. But you didn't... live that with me, even though you know about it.

[But how?]

[ The reaction isn't unexpected, but the tight feeling in his chest isn't. It might be less painful to have someone crack his ribs open and tear his heart out than to see that look on Odasaku's face.

His fingers twitch, hand lifting a few inches before falling back down and hitting against his side. He stays where he is, allowing the other to make distance, and it takes everything to maintain his composure. He smooths his expression out, exhaling softly.

This isn't a conversation that he wants to have. He doesn't want to remind Odasaku of his final hours. He doesn't want to remember them either, though he always does; it's there in his daydreams, in his nightmares, always lurking in the back of his mind.

Butt he just can't bring himself to deceive him.

Odasaku invites him to continue, and so he does. ]

Yes... That's right. The world that you live in is what could be called the original world, or perhaps reality, but outside of that is an infinite number of possible worlds... I lived in one of those worlds.

[ He places his hand over his heart as he makes that final statement. ]

As you know, my ability can nullify all abilities. I used that trait to create a point of singularity and forcibly connect the world's fragments. After that, I succeeded in reading the memories of the me that exists in the original world... Everything from the events that would eventually lead to our meeting to the years that followed after our parting.

[ It was a lot for a fifteen year old, but he's never once regretted it. It was like he was given a second chance. ]

[The shift away from his memories and the events that ultimately led to his death is welcome—if unconventional. Aside from where they are at present, Oda hadn’t really heard of worlds other than his own. Then there’s the fact he’s revived in a world other than his own for reasons unbeknownst to him. That Dazai says there’s an infinite number of possible worlds outside the one he’d come from... There are so many questions to ask.]

So you read his memories. And then changed our fates in another world?

[Not this world. Dazai had also said he hasn’t been here long.

Is he saying there’s a world where Oda hasn’t died? That’s... What should he think about that, how should he feel?]

[ It's a complex subject. However succinct his explanation, the idea of other worlds is complex and difficult for most to understand. He had come to that conclusion, but even so been unprepared for the storm of emotions and memories that followed.

There's so many questions, and Dazai has nothing but time. He nods in affirmation. ]

Right. I am the Port Mafia's legendary Boss, the personification of the night itself. Mimic fell by my hand, as did many others.

[ Despite himself, there's a tinge of satisfaction at that thought. It was only when their leader was gone that he was able to breathe. ]

We never met, and so you never joined the Port Mafia. The Odasaku that I know is a member of the Armed Detective Agency... It's the life that you should have had in the original world.

[ It's one where he's genuinely happy. How could he not be?

It's fine if he hates Dazai. It's better that way. ]

Though even if I say that, it doesn't change what happened in the original world.

[The Armed Detective Agency. The life he should have had in the original world.]

...It doesn't sound like it would.

[Oda ever so slightly frowns as he looks away from the other man. Even from Dazai, these are quite bold assertions that don't really sit well with him. He can't help the unsettling feeling that comes from the confident authoritativeness with which Dazai would dictate his life. Perhaps it's because his experiences of both life and death tell him otherwise—they happened because they were supposed to.

He sighs. His gaze returns to Dazai.]

The Oda Sakunosuke that you know, has he come to know you as well?

[ Dazai offers a wry smile. He's saying too much.

It's not something he would expect his friend to understand. However many years pass, in any world people remain pieces on the chessboard. He moves them as needed. He finds the best possible outcome.

He'd wanted Odasaku to be able to live relatively freely, though, even as he decided both path and purpose for those around him. ]

... We met once, but it was on business. I'm sure that he knew of my reputation, though, and the rumors that surround me. It would be impossible not to.

[ He doesn't sound too torn up about that, and by itself it doesn't bother him all that much. People love a good mystery, and they often found him enigmatic and frightening even when he was an executive. ]

[There's that look, that smile.

That answers his question, albeit not quite in the way Oda wants it answered. But he's a tactician, not a strategist. Dazai may have said Oda's no longer beholden to the Port Mafia, but old habits die hard. He's the Leader of the Port Mafia, and if he's decided that's sufficient enough an answer...]

—Of course.

[Can Oda let that go? What can be done about it if he can't? Dazai's mind on the matter is already made up, much like Oda's regarding his own death in reality.

He closes his eyes, turns his face toward the sky, and takes some time to just breathe. After a while, he wears a neutral expression when regarding Dazai once again.]

Is this one of the infinite number of possible worlds you knew about?

[Just this one last question on the matter. He needs to ask, regardless of the answer.]

No. This is something that even I wouldn't have predicted. Death is supposed to be the end of things.

[ It is a bit more complicated than that, but it would be missing the forest to see the trees. He had accepted the finality of death not just for others, but for himself, and sought comfort in the fact that he would find nothing after.

If Odasaku is here, then that means that there is.

How should he feel about that, after spending so much time wishing to see him again?

Dazai takes a step forward, closing the gap between them. He wants to say something, but he isn't sure what. He reaches a hand out at length, trying to brush his fingers along the back of his other's hand, as though that slight gesture alone could convey all those conflicting feelings that have remained locked up tight for so long. And in return he asks, ]

Odasaku... Are you disappointed?

[ About the fact that he's alive, or about this peculiar situation that he's found himself in? Or something else entirely? Dazai doesn't clarify, but he's searching his face for an answer. ]

[...When Dazai mentions death, is he only talking about Oda's? or is he also talking about his own?

Oda allows Dazai the gesture, the feel and weight of his touch is so real and grounding at the moment. After hearing his question, Oda responds by trying to take Dazai's hand in his own.

He takes a deep breath, then,]

No. I'm not disappointed. [As Dazai searches him, Oda does the same right back.] Though I don't know exactly what my feelings about many things are right now.

[His gaze drops.]

But I asked to stay with you, and we've agreed to stay together. That's not something I'd walk back.

[Even if he isn't the same Dazai from his reality.]

[ Odasaku takes his hand before Dazai can pull it back. It's unexpected, but welcomed, and his features soften as their fingers intertwine. It's more than he'd dare dream of. His thumb rubs the back of the others hand before he squeezes.

There's so much. Dazai can understand that. He knows, too, that there's no doubt countless questions that the other hasn't asked; that he can't ask ask. if he dislikes it, it's still familiar. It's the Odasaku he remembers. It's the person he's thought of for so many years, who died in his arms, who he wanted to speak to again.

The smile that Dazai offers in return is soft. It's subdued still, but there's a genuine happiness to it.

When is the last time he looked forward to something...? It was somewhere when they met, but now... ]

You can stay as long as you wish... And I will stay by your side so long as you will have me.

[ His fingers twitch slightly, then squeeze again. Dazai is a person who struggles to express his true feelings at the best of times, and it's more difficult still for trying to sort his memories, but... ]

I'm happy that you are here... I'm happy that I can be here with you.

[His gaze goes to their joined hands the first time that Dazai squeezes. Oda seems relieved and even some degree of content. When he regards Dazai again, he wears a small smile that matches Dazai's. He feels Dazai give another seemingly tentative squeeze, and he gives a more assuring and tender one in return.]

I don't know what I would've done if you weren't here. I'm grateful that you are.

[It's quite possible Oda would feel even more lost without Dazai anchoring him here in some way. It's complicated and confusing, and there are so many things that are so difficult to communicate...]

I can't speak for any of the ones from other worlds. But no matter where you're from, if you find me—

[As in, the one from the original world.]

—then I won't turn you away.

[He doesn't know how other worlds work or anything like that, but he's certain that he specifically wants Dazai by his side.]

So, do you want to go sight-seeing? Or do you want to show me where we'll be staying?

Edited 2025-03-07 21:15 (UTC)

Odasaku...

[ To be rejected by him had been like a shot through the heart. It was crushing, like losing his best friend for a second time, but even that pain seems small when compared to what those words illicit. The dam inside of him breaks, all the years of struggling and yearning seeming to hit all at once.There's cracks in his expression, and for a moment Dazai looks as though he might cry.

He can't remember the last he felt so happy. He can't remember ever feeling happy at all. It makes him want to die.

He really wanted to live with him.

But it's only for a moment before those feelings come and go, and all that tension is swept away for the final time, and when his smile returns it's softer, more honest. because the world's finally settled back into place. ]

I can show you where we'll be staying... [ He thinks for a moment before adding, ] Oh, we could try decorating it together.

[ Neither of them are really suited to home decorating, but you know. It sounds like a nice idea. ]

[Oda sees Dazai briefly appear more broken and vulnerable in ways that he'd never show anyone. But the younger man seems to recover before Oda can decide whether and how to bring it to attention. He lets out a tiny sigh of relief before his expression eases into a smile reserved only for the most private moments with his friend.]

You know anything about interior design? Or is it home decoration? ...Is there a difference?

[Anyway, Dazai is the Leader of the Port Mafia. The Boss probably chooses how to furnish his own digs, so surely he knows a thing or several about it. Or, at least, more than Oda knows.]

Lead the way. You said you have a big place--was it already furnished?

[Even though there's a part of him that can't just let go of his death and how he doesn't belong here, he is actually looking forward to spending time doing even the simplest of things with Dazai.]

[ Dazai nods once. ]

It was. If I didn't know any better, I would say that it was a model home.

[ A model home, but without the illusion of personalization. There's no knick-knacks, no fake pictures, none of those normal things stacked up on racks and placed on cabinets and other such things to make it seem more homely. It was a good match for him.

He wonders briefly if perhaps Odasaku regrets being alive. If he wants to be. Dazai won't allow him to return to the grave.

He loops back around to the first question as he pulls the other along, turning a corner, a hint of amusement appearing at last, ]

Though neither of us are home designers, so I'm sure all the appeal it's supposed to have will be ruined... Well, that suits me just fine though. You can't really call a place "homely" until you've ruined the look, right?

[ Clashing accents, things that don't belong together, things that are kept for sentimental value and art that are there just because, things clumsily thrown about or forgotten or lost... He thinks that's what they mean when they call a place "homely." ]

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