Random Stories by Mercyy

BSD Skk angst - Dazai leaves PM

Death. Guilt. Sorrow. The raw truth.

A stupid decision. An interrupted explanation. A heated argument.

Walking beneath the moonlight, feeling the cold breeze caress your skin. Hoping it also cools you off, clears your thoughts. No, erases them.

All you need is a sense of calmness.

All he needs is a sense of calmness.

To evaluate. To analyze. To debate. Is he doing the right thing? Is he wrong?

He sits in the border of a tall bridge, observing how the silver moonlight melts and shimmers in the water. The stone is cold, it pierces through his bones, reminding him he is human. He can be wrong. He can make mistakes.

But how severe can those mistakes get to be before they're no longer accepted? Before they're mistakes he simply cannot make? Before those mistakes have an effect on his life that is so abysmal that there's no room for them anymore, before they become life-changing and incorregible?

He knew very well some questions were better unanswered. All those were part of those said questions.

"What?"

"What do you- What do you mean? Y-You're joking, right?"

"That is the stupidest thing to do in this situation."

"Are you just going to run away?"

Shut up.

He inhales. He exhales. Calmness.

Unobtainable and imaginary calmness.

No matter what he did, eyes closed or not, mind clear or crowded, the scenes replayed constantly on his head.

"Fine, then! Way fucking better for me, because I've never liked you and your shitty personality!"

He sighs, glancing down at his palm. The ghost of his deceased partner lies there, on his lap, smiling and reaching for his face. He mouths something. Dazai doesn't quite get it. He asks something instead, a whisper, "Is this what you wanted?". The ghost smiles wider. His lips reach out for Dazai's, but the latter doesn't feel anything when they touch. It is all in his head.

He chuckles softly. "You were never the one who kissed first, Odasaku."

"If both sides are the same, be in the side that helps people."

He sighs. "What a troublesome last wish."

He still doesn't know what to do.

• • •

The familiar alley doesn't bring him any comfort. Maybe because of the day. Maybe because of the occasion.

Maybe because of who he's certain he'll find in the bar.

That doesn't stop him. He had brought him there personally once, and knowing him, he'd be there.

How is he so sure? Why does he think he'd look for him or even think of him after all he said? He was being selfish, egocentric, probably. Perhaps it was blind hope. Faith. Something natural in human beings. Love.

"You think you're so smart, a very important asset to the Mafia. But have you ever, for a single second, thought about anyone but yourself?"

"Why do you talk to people? Get close to them? Just so you can use them later on, or because they're 'interesting' to you, isn't that right?"