Generations of Rain || Dazai Osamu/Reader

3. orange juice.

"Oh, you're finally here!"

You could hear Dazai's cheerful voice echo in the small confines of Bar Lupin, a tiny bar located in an alleyway near the Port Mafia headquarters. There was a bartender polishing the interiors of a glass and setting it aside, before repeating the same monotonous ritual with a slight smile on his face.

The night is alive, and so are you.

"Did anything bother you on your way here?" Your faithful husband asks, immediately kissing your temple as you sit down on a stool besides his. The amber lights pooled over the mahogany bar surface, oozing and toppling over and spilling onto the floor.

"No," You reply, kissing him on his stubbled cheek before turning to the bartender. "I'll have just an orange juice."

"No alcohol for tonight?" Dazai asks. His finger was toying at an ice sphere bobbling in his drink, mindlessly watching it float back up to the surface.

"Don't want to be tipsy," You say, resting your arm on the bar and turning your head towards him. "I want to stay sober tonight."

"Oooh," Dazai wiggles his fingers as a lecherous grin takes over his face. "You and Odasaku gettin' it on, aren't you?"

That receives a sigh from Odasaku and a light giggle from you, before you elbow your husband's side.

"Lighten up, my dear," You say. "You were more than willing to—"

"That's enough out of you." The red-head intercepts you before you could go on, and that makes you and Dazai burst out into laughter. The bartender slides his drink towards you, and you take a sip of the fresh, citrus drink.

The same drink you're drinking right now.

You're situated on the patio of some cafe, with Dazai sitting across you with his legs crossed. You place your orange juice back down.

"Are you okay, (First name)?" Dazai asks you, uncrossing his legs and resting his elbows on the wobbling table surface. "You look like you're going to be sick."

"Just remembering some things I shouldn't be," You pause. "Or maybe I was supposed to remember them."

His eyes betray his confusion before they snap back into its sepia clarity, brightened and three dimensional under the sunlight seeping over his face like warm honey. "Orange juice was your go-to drink when we were at Bar Lupin, wasn't it?"

"Yeah," You say. You watch, with a certain distance in your gaze, the ice bobbing about in the bright orange liquid. The paper straw that you've not unwrapped yet remains untouched by its side. You lean back and slide down your chair, bringing your arms to cross them over your chest. "Yeah, it was."

Dazai doesn't say anything for a moment, only furrowing his eyebrows when you truly looked like you were going to be sick. He waves the waitress over and asks her,

"She's finished with this drink, do you mind?"

"Oh, of course!" The waitress quickly takes away your drink on her grey tray and briskly walks away. Now all that's left on the table is a glass of ice water that Dazai hasn't touched since he's suggested the two of you come to this cafe to relax.

"I'm sorry."

You blink at him. "What are you apologising for?"

He looks pained for a moment. As though there were too many things to be sorry for, and that naming all of them would mean he would have to seriously come to terms with this reality he's trapped in. "For everything."

Your eyes sting and water and you're trying so hard to bite them back by clenching your fists, but the ice cold band on your finger presses against your palm and you're sitting there with your head hanging, nose burning and pinpricks of sweat prickling at your nape. If it took a simple orange juice to reduce you to a mess of tears and snot, then how would you survive this world, a world without Odasaku?