Generations of Rain || Dazai Osamu/Reader

25. privilege.

"Are you sure you're—"

"Yes, I'm sure."

The two of you are in Dazai's car, going over a conversation that had long been discussed back at the dorms. You were to visit Odasaku's grave, alone, without Dazai, and let yourself break and be vulnerable before him.

Eyes cinch at the bright sunlight as you step out of the car. On your forearm is a straw basket of wine and a box of Japanese curry. Curry has been your husband's favourite food; going as far as to have it at least once everyday. It was an endearing trait of his that you would never forget.

You slam the car door behind you. Dazai waves at you through the window, his eyes closed when you turn back. He waits in the car as you trudge through the grass and the concrete pavement, making your way towards the tombstone that had been holding onto you since the day he died. Royal violet irises sway in the breeze, their trumpet-like petals seemingly singing into the season before they would ultimately wither and die in the face of autumn. A cry of triumphant glee: I'm alive!

You adjust the straw hat on your head, thin beams of sunlight dotting your face through the holes of the woven straw. You're wearing a simple one-piece dress, patterned with blue flowers, coming down to your knees. You stand before the tombstone that had your husband's name engraved on the stone, and smile.

"Hey, Odasaku," You say, sitting on the warm patch of concrete. You draw your legs up to your knees and place the basket down. "How've you been?"

You of course don't get an answer. But you like to think that his spirit was sitting next to you, his arm around your shoulder and whispering everything he had witnessed in the afterworld to you. He wasn't fragmented in your mind; he wasn't made of patches of memories that would comprise of a patchy, multi-coloured blanket—no, he was like the sky, the wind, the grass: Everywhere you saw you recognised Odasaku. It was as though he had lifted the hands off your eyes and let you witness what life was like on the other end where the grass was greener.

And that was what you called love.

It was a privilege to be loved by Odasaku.

"Thank you for loving me too," You say, pouring wine into the ground, watching the soil darken. "It opened my eyes. I can see that everything is so much brighter, so much beloved by the universe. I love you. I can see you in the waves, in the skies, in my heart. You'll never be able to see, but you'll know. The poets can't define what we have because it's our universe, just like NASA doesn't know about the full parameters of space. I love you.

"And that's why I'm letting go. Thank you for being there for me. You've made me cry, sometimes you've made me cry so hard I could feel it in my ribs, like the real me was cornered; you've made me happier than ever, you've let me experience what it means to be someone in love. You're still in my heart, but you're carving to be let out now. I've hoarded your name in my mouth and it drew blood because you wanted out. You'll never stop being my first love. You won't ever disappear to me. I can do nothing but love you and let go. Live the life that you sacrificed your life for. Thank you for loving me, thank you for holding my hand all the way until the end, up to until you died.

"Dazai and I are going to get the photos that we took framed. That way, you'll always be with us. We both loved you in different ways. You'll forever be with us. We'll live the life you died for. I'll be the person to stop myself from being lost to Dazai. He needs me, just like he needed your last words." You tilt your head back and watch the clouds pass. Sunlight slips under the back of your thighs. Only Odasaku has come that close to you. Longing slithers in your heart like a grapevine, bearing bulbous fruit as you let the breeze through your hair.

You've made it out alive of the grief. The annihilating grief had been caused by you all along; you had been your own jailor; your pain, your cell. A tiny box that you couldn't breathe in.