BSD Oneshots || On Hiatus

Let Go, Forget, And Forgive - SKK ◻

OK this is like fluffy angsty idk it has a bit of angst but a fluffy ending for once so please enjoy. 

OH YEA today is Jan 12th which is apparently kiss a ginger day so kisses for Chuuya :D

I'm a ginger and no one kissed me so ouch rude >:(

Thank you so much to anyone who comments or votes it really makes my day :)

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Nakahara Chuuya couldn't let go. 

Nakahara Chuuya and Dazai Osamu, 18. 

That was the photograph that fluttered in the ginger's fingers. 

In the photo, Dazai was grinning, his arm around Chuuya's shoulders. Chuuya himself was scowling at the brunette but his cheeks were flushed- from the contact or the wine he could not tell nor remember- and he looked happy. They both did.

They had been partners for almost four years at the time that was taken, and they had been celebrating after a particularly difficult mission. 

They didn't usually celebrate like that; this night had been different. Dazai had invited Chuuya to go drinking with his friends, a rare offer from the suicidal maniac. 

Chuuya had accepted and of course the wine addict got very drunk. So much so there wasn't much to remember about that night except a special feeling. 

One memory he could recall was one of those friends taking the photos and then handing this one to Chuuya later that night with a knowing smile.

"Keep that in a safe place."

A week later Chuuya had been sent off to a mission in France. When he came back two weeks after that, Dazai was gone.

Traitor. 

Dazai Osamu, the man who had snatched the title of youngest executive from Chuuya, turned the Sheep against him, got him to join the Port Mafia, Chuuya's partner, the man who belonged in the Port Mafia more than anyone he knew... left. Didn't leave Chuuya a note, a message, one last joke or taunt, an excuse, an explanation. Nothing. 

And that hurt more than he thought it ever would.

He expected to be overjoyed- the annoyance he had to deal with for so long was finally gone. 

But he wasn't. 

Chuuya felt betrayed, used, hurt, worried, stressed, and confused. So, he did what he always did. Opened up one of his finest bottles of wine and got completely wasted, burying his feelings underneath all the alcohol.  

It was a blacked-out blur the next day. He couldn't remember a single detail of what he had done the night before. His clothes reeked of cigarette smoke- a smell which he utterly despised- there was a hole in one of his walls, and blood on one of his hands.

So, he burned the clothes, and took an hour-long shower, scrubbing and washing everything, wishing to get rid of the hurt that still lurked inside him. 

However much he wanted to, Chuuya didn't let himself break down. And that in itself was almost more destructive than anything. 

He turned all his sadness and self-pity and loathing and every other emotion he knew and turned it into anger. Anger to fuel himself on throughout the day. 

Chuuya didn't let it spill to hurt his fellow mafiosi, they didn't deserve that. He was angry at himself and at Dazai and at anyone else that hurt him or the Port Mafia.