Falling

Bonus 2 - Ailing days and a slowly healing soul

After one story, what more can be said? What more could be narrated or added when it's already finished?

A new beginning maybe? Because life never halts in one place. It only spreads further and further, until its very end, God knows when or where.

So as the ending of one story nears, it becomes a prelude to the new one, much brighter, yet harsher, much more difficult, yet peaceful. And until it becomes written down, it remains as only an aspect of an impossible reality or a tiny piece of one's imagination, never known or confirmed to be true.

Not many people could know what happened in detail after the Fall, that crucial moment in the Port Mafia history and the history of the whole Yokohama. Some knew as much as they were allowed to know, which was fairly enough. Some knew more and some knew it all, but had never talked out loud about it.

In the end, the conclusion remained the same for everyone - that if they could choose what could have happened, they would never choose something different from what had happened in any way. Even some difficult ones had to admit that with the time.

A small nick had outspread and became so big that nobody would believe it could be filled and sealed again. But it had been and as that should remain for as long as those two live.

Those two magnificent people who, each in their own time, ditched their own indomitable façades and accepted their humanity to its fullest. With one of them finally learning how and holding onto that knowledge to the rest of his life.

.

.

.

"Better?"

Dazai opened his eyes and turned his head to the other side of the pillow, giving the person on the door a tired, but an honest smile. "A little."

"That's good," Chuuya acknowledged happily, quietly letting out a sigh of relief when Dazai closed his eyes again.

To not waste more time, he walked to the small table in front of the couch to drop the items he had brought with him.

It was evident his movements were slower than usual, all the responsibilities draining him bit by bit. But of course, being obstinate as he is, Chuuya pushed himself into work even further.

Though it doesn't mean nobody had noticed that because many trepidations were still spoken those days. Privately or overtly, each of them revolving around the same topic.

People wondered will a solution appear at all or will everything fall apart like never built? Some may try surmising the outcome, but it has always ended up like the worst-case scenario.

And as it is known, just thinking about things alike brings rather unpleasant sentiments. So it wasn't a surprise they stopped talking about them soon; more to ease themselves than the others around them.

While Chuuya kept busy, Dazai opened his eyes and yawned, rubbing a hand over his face. He puffed out, glancing through the window opposite of him.

Past noon, he thought, admiring the sky bluer that he ever remembered it to be. Giving it a ghostly smile, he recalled the event from seven days ago. A rather enjoyable one, despite it being the cause of his current state.

Inhaling, he pressed forearms against the mattress, lifting himself up in an attempt to get out of a lying position. Unfortunately, he was so weak that his arms shook and he fell back down.