Nostalgia | Dazai Osamu

7| Drink

Chuuyas P.O.V

When she walked in all emotion was extracted from her body. The way she walked, the way she looked, the way she spoke. It was like she had suddenly turned into a definition of stoic.

Something serious had definitely happened.

"What's wrong?" I mutter, loud enough for her to hear it, one eyebrow furrowed. I placed down my wine glass as she walked down the dark steps of the bar, approaching the counter. She sat down on the red leather bar stool beside me before placing her leather jacket on the stool beside her, placed both hands on the table, eyes facing forward, and sat silently. I started at her, wondering about the painful emotions she possibly could have faced in today's mission.
"Him." She said, and from that single word, I knew immediately, and went back to drinking the wine in my grasp.

I told her to meet me at ten, at the bar Mafia members usually attend to when a mission had been a success or just to erase any thoughts in the back of our heads. Alcohol was a great taste and done the job perfectly for when I was concerned. At least, for me. (Y/n) was different.

"Just the usual cocktail for me." She quietly informed the bar tender. Not a surprise.

"As you wish."

The bar was dimly light and was tucked away down a reasonably clean ally with a moderate amount of citizens. The door would only enter to those the bar tender knew of when the night starts to form- the Mafia members. The smell felt exactly like a friendly, warming bar, but besides from the cheers of citizens and the clatter of cups, this small bar was filled of minimal chatter and the faded sound of an orchestra coming from the radio. It held something no other place could have. It was kept the same over years of its existence: same grey haired, crimson tweed suit bar tender, same chairs, same feeling, same people. However, It was still pleasing every time we walked inside.

I sigh deeply, things were never too good when one of us was depressed.

The levels of awkward silence and the attempts of empathy increase. This bar was one of the only places we could subtly release the demons from their human cages, sip wonderful alcohol, and spend a relaxing night. It was painfully enjoyable. The only thing that started to disturb it was the thought of strange events which was hopefully pending. I had never seen her face so blank.

"What happened." I repeat, swallowing the red burning liquid, very concerned for my companion. A tall glass was placed in front of her within seconds, filled with an exotic clear teal with a orange sliced on the glass, and served with a soft, "My lady."

"Thank you." She sighed. By now, she would have been in a deep conversation, normally about something wild or moaning about Mori and I was starting to miss it. Her fingers delicately wrap around the thin glass which lift up to her pale lips. It was then when I saw how pallid she looked. I started to get worried over what had happened earlier today...

"You looked like he really beat you up." I state, almost desperate to know what happened.

"He kind of did, Chu."

"Don't call me-"I mither, then shrug off the long time diminutive nickname she had for me, "Fine. What did he say."

I watch her swirl around her drink playfully for a second, waiting, until I got the point that she wasn't going to speak. I sigh out loud, and look at my colourful reflection within the shining glass bottles stacked neatly against the opposite wall. The lights above was reflected so well in each clear, green, white, red, blue bottle there was so spectacularly it reminded me of Christmas- not a time I particularly enjoyed. The bar tender, as usual, was minding his own business and was cleaning every glass until all smudges or marks were unseen. The only sound was the gently orchestral music and the silent squeaks of cloth on glass. It was nothing like how it should be.