(Pre-dark era) In the bustling streets of Yokohama, two souls, Dazai and Chuuya, collide in a whirlwind of passion and longing, causing despair along the way. Dazai's spirit wandered aimlessly, haunted by a persistent emptiness and an enduring ache...
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In the waning hours of his weekends, Dazai sought refuge in the dimly lit corners of the bar or the hollow confines of his home. The void in his heart remained unfillable, a yawning chasm of emptiness that swallowed any semblance of joy. Yet, when eyes glanced upon him, he painted on a smile, a facade of happiness masking the desolation within.
The Port Mafia work was plenty of stress, it added onto the conflicting pain that arises from Oda's death. Dazai still managed to hold up the perfectionist work, doing all his dangerous jobs no matter how much energy he had to put in. He was in no mood to deal with Mori's extreme punishments.
Although Mori, with his penetrating gaze, saw through the facade, he chose to remain indifferent to Dazai's silent suffering. No recognition of the silent cries for help hidden behind Dazai's facade of false cheer. After all, Dazai was a man who was worthless; undeserving of kindness or such.
For others, it was irregular to witness Dazai in such a state of hopelessness, drowning in the depths of despair. His demeanor betrayed not grief, but a profound weariness with life itself, as if the burdens of existence had become too heavy to bear.
He didn't appear to be mourning; rather, he seemed utterly disillusioned with life itself. Dazai lost hope of humanity after Oda died.
He didn't bother to suppress his emotions; rather, he felt nothing at all, a numbness that consumed him from within.
Chuuya noticed Dazai's off behavior a lot. He usually wasn't as high as he used to be. The days of playful banter and teasing insults about Chuuya's hat or height, abruptly halted by the weight of Oda's absence and Dazai's own emptiness. This change left Chuuya perplexed, why was Dazai so down now?
While it seemed reasonable to confront him about it, Chuuya harbored doubts that Dazai would offer a direct explanation. Dazai would most likely persist in maintaining a facade of happiness, disregarding his own feelings and any sympathy from those around him.
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On a day tinged with both calmness and tension, Chuuya approached Dazai amid the backdrop of a mission in progress. As Dazai wiped away the excess blood from his face, Chuuya reached out, laying a hand gently upon his shoulder.
"Hey jackass, wanna give me a reasonable explanation on why you've been so gloomy lately?" Chuuya tried to ask as politely as he could but it came off a bit mixed.
"Me? Gloomy? You must be hallucinating Chibi!" Dazai responded with a smirk, yet his eyes betrayed a profound sense of inner turmoil, reflecting the depths of a soul adrift.
"You can't fool me jackass. Just tell me what the hell is wrong." Chuuya's grip on his shoulders tightened. Dazai sighed, giving in, too tired to pull up an excuse.
"Well, who knew the hatrack could be so caring." Dazai groaned. "Sure. I'll tell you exactly why."
Chuuya, though feeling a twinge of impatience, managed to maintain a facade of patience as he waited.
