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Dazai Osamu cannot help but think of Nakahara Chuuya as a human flame. He is the embodiment of all things one sees in a fire: warmth, light, and power. His eyes are a bright cerulean like the sky above a raging inferno, constantly sparkling with intensity and passion. His hair is a fiery reddish copper like the embers of a bonfire. He has a fiery personality to match that hair too, full of energy and spirit. He is a living flame, and Dazai cannot help but be drawn to him like a moth.
It is not his fault, really. He is simply one of the many moths caught in the flame that is Chuuya. Chuuya is not unlike those black holes he throws around in his corrupted form, pulling in anything and anyone in his vicinity. The most annoying thing about him, in Dazai’s opinion, is that the idiot doesn’t even realize he’s doing it. Really, he has never understood.
. . .
They are fifteen years old when Chuuya joins the Port Mafia.
Mori-san almost immediately likes Chuuya better than him.
Chuuya is somehow convinced it’s the other way around, but Dazai can see it for what it is. The lightness in Mori-san’s being, his genuine smiles, his human quality… all directed at the little ball of fire that is Chuuya. When has Dazai been a recipient of this treatment? No, Mori-san’s smiles directed at him are fraught with tension.
Mori-san idealizes his apathy: He sees Dazai’s inhumanity and seeks not only to foster that but to emulate it himself. Dazai cannot understand why: If he could change his way of being, he would. He desperately wishes he could feel all those correct feelings and think all those correct thoughts on instinct, like that chibi does: like all humans do.
Mori-san also fears him, Dazai knows. This does not surprise him: He almost encourages that fear, really. But what else is he to do? What is the alternative? Some people say that Mori-san is evil incarnate, inhuman, but Dazai is inclined to disagree. Mori-san does all he can to suppress and discourage that humanity Dazai would do anything to experience, advising Dazai to do the same, but at the end of the day, an imitation of inhumanity will still freeze in fear in the face of the real thing.
The imitation of inhumanity will still be drawn to the humanity that reflects his core. He will relax and freely smile upon humanity, offering his insights on a common interest to bond as humans tend to do, to garner humanity’s goodwill. Of course, due to a shared core, he already knows how to approach humanity and how to bond with him in a way Dazai cannot understand.
Chuuya hates that Mori-san sees so much potential in Dazai’s inhumanity, that the man seemingly favors him for it. He resents Dazai for that, among other things. He doesn’t know that Dazai would trade his way of being in a heartbeat if it meant having a taste of what Chuuya has… But Dazai cannot do that at the end of the day, so really, what does it matter?
. . .
Kouyou-san also likes Chuuya better than him.
The Demon Prodigy is what they call him now. He thinks it is rather fitting. He remembers hearing fifteen-year-old Chuuya call him a demon as he clutched his wound from his friends’ betrayal, which was of course planned by Dazai himself. Naturally, humanity would call him a demon as he enacts horrors that people deem unspeakable. Dazai thought the point of the underworld was that people did not run from all that society seems to disapprove of. Dazai does not understand: Humanity still seems to elude him.
Kouyou, like almost everyone else in the Port Mafia, has a fear of him. She knows what the Demon Prodigy is capable of. She hears the whispered warnings of his ruthless violence, not born of some retaliatory fury like Chuuya’s, but simply enacted due to an opportunity presenting itself. She knows of his twisted ways of playing with people, of using them like tools before breaking them like toys: how even in hell itself, the people Dazai sends there will never be able to escape him. She is aware that the greatest misfortune of his enemies is that they are his enemies, so naturally she develops a healthy fear of that. Anyone smart would.
Dazai can see the contrast between him and Chuuya in her eyes. He sees how her eyes narrow in suspicion at him versus how they brighten and soften in fondness when she is in Chuuya’s presence. He notes the tension in her expression when she interacts with him and the relaxation when she is with Chuuya. He hears how Chuuya calls her his older sister and how Kouyou-san mentors him, even verbally reassuring him as she teaches him all he needs to know.
Dazai supposes it cannot be helped. If a person has grown up feeling surrounded by darkness and is suddenly presented with a flame so bright, of course she will feel that need to nurture him. Next to this flame of a human, warm and alive, how is a shadowed husk like Dazai supposed to compare?
Dazai remembers the time he found out that Chuuya was assigned to Kouyou-san. He had experienced a visceral, irrational, emotional reaction. That is something very rare for him. He had been angry, shouting at Chuuya for having the audacity to comply with being given to Kouyou. He had thought, “Why are you not given to me? You should be mine!” After all, he was the one who had gone and dragged Chuuya into the mafia from the streets. He had won the bet that made Chuuya his. He was the one with the most rights to Chuuya. If the redhead trained anywhere, it should be under him, fulfilling his craving for that warmth only a flame as bright as Chuuya could provide him.
He supposes even a demon like himself is inevitably drawn towards a being like Chuuya, craving a taste of that humanity. He wants to possess it, to claim it for himself. As a being this cold and heartless… Surely, he is entitled to some share of the warmth and love that humanity has to offer. The imbalance would be unfair otherwise. So, when he sees that he cannot have the love and regard so freely given to others, he takes what he can in the form of warmth and life.
Interestingly, despite even his mentor having a healthy fear of who Dazai is, Chuuya himself has no fear of him. Dazai pushes, and Chuuya pushes back. Chuuya resists with all his might, eyes blazing in defiance and voice rising in fury. So, so alive. Fascinating. So Dazai keeps pushing and pushing, just to witness the all-consuming heat of that emotion, that life force. He knows that Chuuya hates him more and more. He will live off Chuuya’s warmth anyway.
Chuuya makes him feel many feelings he hasn’t felt before: confusing, contradictory feelings he barely understands. Feelings that make Dazai want to push him and then pull him back harder, lift him and spin him around and shake him up and down and hold him just a little too close. He wants to see his spirit, all wild and fiery and feeling things because of Dazai. That beautiful humanity that he could exist in the same world as, that reminded him that he could have an impact on things. On people. On humanity. On Chuuya.
. . .
The Flags adore Chuuya.
Dazai knows that Chuuya spends almost all his free time with that group; he is practically a member. He knows that the Flags are in charge of watching over Chuuya and monitoring any potential for betrayal, but he also knows that anyone with eyes can see how fond they are of him. At the end of the day, Dazai is sure that if it came down to it, the Flags would side with Chuuya over even Mori-san himself. Though he knows that would never be an issue, because Chuuya would never betray Mori-san. He would never betray anyone. Something about loyalty and principles and all those things that Dazai does not understand but that are so innate to someone like Chuuya.
He wonders what it’s like to have a group of people like the Flags. He wonders what it is like to have so many people who genuinely like you as a person. Of course, Chuuya is oblivious as ever to how much the people around him like him. According to Dazai, Chuuya takes it for granted because he never has to work for it. It seems he just exists in the general vicinity of people, and they cannot help but be pulled into his orbit. There is just some quality about him that Dazai cannot seem to truly comprehend, yet it keeps drawing him in all the same.
He sees Chuuya and the Flags laughing together, heading into an abandoned bar to play pool. He sees Albatross whisking Chuuya away on some adventure or the other. He sees Lippmann giggling and fussing over Chuuya’s grown out hair. He sees Pianoman whispering words for Chuuya’s ears only and leading him away every time they cross paths with him. He sees Iceman quietly getting Chuuya coffee when he seems tired. He sees Doc sitting with Chuuya, reading some medical texts, occasionally exchanging words with him and simply basking in his company. Dazai supposes what he is witnessing is friendship. Family, even.
The Flags are the young, up-and-coming executives-to-be of the Port Mafia. Mori-san will definitely make Dazai an executive before Chuuya. He has achieved tremendous results at a higher rate than any current executive. Even more than Pianoman, the most successful of the Flags. He is simply in a different league, so logically, there is no reason Dazai should not qualify to be a part of their little association. He is overqualified, if anything. He should be a part of it. And yet, as the Flags surround Chuuya, who was supposed to be a task for them, with care and fondness; Dazai remains in his solitude, watching from the outside. Even with all his qualifications, there is something he is still missing that Chuuya evidently has in abundance: humanity.
Dazai cannot help but resent that, just a bit. At the same time, just like everyone else, he cannot help but be attracted to it, fascinated by it. A small part of him wants to extinguish it, to forcibly drag Chuuya to where he is, so the redhead can see what existing as “not a human being” is really like. A much bigger part of him wants to preserve it, treasure it, so he can continue to feel some warmth in the presence of his human flame.
When the Flags are killed, Dazai carries Chuuya to them. He thinks it is what Chuuya would want: a last chance to see them. For some kind of closure, he supposes. He leaves right after dropping him off, of course; he doesn’t know what he would be expected to do if he stayed there. Pretend to feel bad? This is the mafia: Death and being witness to it are simply a part of life. That is one of the reasons he joined in the first place. Besides, he barely even knew these people.
. . .
This whole debate over Chuuya’s humanness is ridiculous, Dazai decides.
Of course he is convinced that Chuuya is a human being! How is anyone doubting that? How is Chuuya doubting that? No artificial creation could embody the humanity he has grown to envy and resent. The humanity that draws him to Chuuya in the first place. The humanity that constantly plagues his thoughts in the form of sharp cerulean eyes and vibrant copper hair and heated arguments and a bright grin and a powerful stance and fire. His human flame? Simply some lines of code? Of course not, that would be ridiculous. How Chuuya could entertain the idea for even a minute is beyond him, really… Perhaps that is why the chibi, unlike him, is not known for his intelligence. Ridiculous, everyone entertaining this is just ridiculous.
He makes a plan to retrieve the information from the research facility that will confirm that Chuuya is human. Maybe if he has proof, Chuuya will realize what Dazai has known all along, and everyone can move on from this silly debate over whether humanity is human enough and spend their time on better things. Of course, that plan is ruined when Chuuya jumps before Dazai even has a chance to make his alternate plan. Dazai cannot help but sigh; frankly, he should have seen this coming. Chuuya is selfless at his core: It is a weakness the Sheep had taken advantage of and one that he had exploited to get Chuuya to join the Port Mafia in the first place. A virtue twisted into a flaw… How very human…
Dazai is breathless, feverish, watching Chuuya’s true form. He watches Chuuya fight and defeat the beast only he is capable of defeating: the beast that is nothing more than a pool of hatred that attacks anyone and anything perceived as hostile, unable to judge who is most dangerous or which target it should prioritize. That’s what Mori-san had slit the Old Boss’s throat for, Dazai thinks at the back of his head. Chuuya is capable of emitting the kind of light that combats and devours the beast-like darkness that threatens to overwhelm and rule the underworld. Not just Arahabaki, Chuuya himself. His loyalty and love for his people, his care and selflessness, his humanity: These are the reasons he is in this position now to defeat the beast. The human flame, that bright light fighting the overbearing darkness and winning that fight, bringing with him so many who are willing to fight in his name such that humanity may reign even in the night… How amazing…
Dazai is the one who catches Chuuya’s body when the whole ordeal is over. He thinks it rather poetic: A fallen god, stripped of his wings and made human; humanity falling from the sky, from the heavens, and caught in the arms of a demon as the underworld fully embraces him and he fully embraces it in turn. Dazai knows that this will cement Chuuya’s undying loyalty to the people of the Port Mafia: It is inevitable with Chuuya’s principles and his propensity for attachment to others and all those things that Dazai wishes he could also comprehend and feel.
Dazai cannot help but let out a helpless laugh at Chuuya’s shocked expression when Miss Shelley tells him that her robot had independently judged Chuuya to be worth sacrificing himself for. He looks so lost, but logically, it makes sense. The robot, Adam, was created with the purpose of protecting humanity. Naturally, it would sacrifice itself among other things if that meant protecting Chuuya. Even a robot had independently gotten pulled into the orbit of Nakahara Chuuya. A robot. A part of Dazai wants to scream. There is really no escaping him… Even nonliving things are subject to the Chuuya effect… And the idiot is surprised, because he has no clue.
. . .
Chuuya gets attached to people quickly.
One would think he would learn from the death of the Flags, but no. He is given a group of subordinates to train, and he refers to the group as his friends. Dazai thinks it’s ridiculous. These people are not supposed to be Chuuya’s friends. Chuuya is supposed to be training them. One cannot sharpen tools with something as soft as friendship. Then again, Chuuya could never think to view his subordinates as tools. He would very likely be angry with Dazai if he heard him talking about them like that. Chuuya has been doing that since their very first time working together: getting put off or upset because of something Dazai says or does, because it’s not normal for humanity... Humanity that Dazai has never had access to in the first place. And he is never shy about vocalizing his displeasure with Dazai.
During the Dragon’s Head Conflict, Chuuya punches him. His blue-sky-above-an-inferno eyes hold the fury of a thousand suns. The anger, the abundant emotion, in his expression is beautiful as always. It is what he says afterwards, before he storms off, that may or may not leave Dazai unable to respond. Dazai tries speaking his humanity into existence: has the audacity to compare his state of humanity to Chuuya’s. I’m human too… Chuuya rejects the claim, in the name of all people. No one would believe that. Well, he is right. What person who has met him has perceived him as human at all, let alone as human as the human flame himself? Humanity truly has rejected him… He really doesn’t understand it at all. His remark was optimistic, was it not? Was he not being constructive instead of just being upset about the Colonel’s death like Chuuya? Then again, humanity has always had a thing about disrespecting the dead and principles like that… He will never understand. He will attempt to adjust his attitude anyway: He decides that he does not want humanity to be this genuinely angry with him. How terrible…
He does not want humanity to be genuinely angry with him. Yet, as he watches Chuuya unleash Corruption in his righteous fury over the death of those subordinates, those friends of his, and as he watches him lie exhausted in his lap afterwards, he cannot help but think: How beautiful...
. . .
When Dazai spends time with Odasaku, he feels a sense of comfort. Odasaku is interesting: a virtuous man in a place so filled with sin. He thinks that virtue is what allows Odasaku to see him and accept him as he is. No harsh jabs and judgements about how rotten he is or how he fails to measure up to humanity. With Odasaku he can at least pretend, and he can feel for at least these moments that it may be true. That provides a feeling of safety and contentment, one that Dazai has come to associate with Odasaku’s presence. Odasaku is the person he enjoys spending time with the most. He is… his friend?
He can see the appeal of friendship then: He can see the reason Chuuya keeps forming his attachments to one group of friends or the other, making friends with everyone he associates with in the mafia of all places. Though Chuuya, the embodiment of raw humanity, surely doesn’t need the kind of sanctuary Odasaku provides Dazai. Dazai selfishly wants Odasaku never to meet or befriend Chuuya. Of course, Odasaku is too virtuous to cast judgement on Dazai… Still, Dazai has grown a little tired of everyone known by both him and Chuuya being a testament to how human Chuuya is and how lacking he is in comparison. Odasaku is a refuge from that… He hopes he can keep at least this for himself.
. . .
It goes without saying that when virtue is killed for good, humanity is nowhere to be seen.
Dazai hopes his little human flame can come back soon. A place shrouded in darkness… It needs a beacon as bright and warm and human as Chuuya. Mori-san knew what he was doing when he had his sights on Chuuya almost as soon as he took over the mafia. The light he emits, which could defeat that beast and all that it encompasses two years ago, needs to continue to shine here. The mafia needs Chuuya’s ability to illuminate the world of the night, arguably much more than they need whatever Dazai provides as an executive. This is where Chuuya belongs.
As for Dazai? Well, it is as Odasaku had said. Light or darkness… Dazai is someone who does not care either way. Principles and all those human things that come so naturally to Chuuya… Dazai finds them fascinating, but he does not possess them and therefore does not quite understand them. Odasaku saw that, and he accepted him nonetheless. Dazai’s pitiful attempt at having principles or a moral compass is much too externally influenced to illuminate a place like the mafia: Surround Chuuya with darkness and he will fight the darkness itself, but surround Dazai with darkness and he will simply absorb it and become darkness incarnate. No wonder Chuuya, flaming beacon of the underworld, is so repulsed by him…
So Dazai will fulfill Odasaku’s last wish: He will leave the darkness. And as long as the night can be illuminated, he will let the Port Mafia stay standing. Humanity rejects him, but human virtue dictates that he is given a chance. Perhaps he will find himself in a place that does not require illumination he cannot provide. Odasaku had given him a couple of actionable principles that he can now take on as his own: save lives and protect orphans. Perhaps he can find a place that does those things, and he can be surrounded by it.
Until he finds that place, he will have to survive in the cold for a bit, he supposes. He figures that a goodbye gesture for his human flame is a must: something hot and bright and powerful like him. An explosion, perhaps? One that will provoke a similarly explosive response from him so Dazai may feel the heat of it from wherever he may be. Yes, that would be quite nice.
We will have to meet again of course: You have already pulled me in, just like you do with everyone else around you. It’s a property of yours, even if your brain is too slow to realize it. Slow, like a slug. Goodbye, Slug.
Goodbye, Chuuya.