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October 26th.
It shouldn't still hurt this much.
But it does.
Dazai raised his glass with a faltering smile, deep brown eyes abnormally dull. The spherical ice clinked against the rim and it was almost like Odasaku was still there, raising his own glass to cheer to whatever childish thing Dazai wished.
...
Almost.
Dazai downed another shot of sake, before letting the glass slip from his stiff fingers, hitting the ground with a thud that Dazai didn't process. It was pouring, and he couldn't stop himself from shaking. The quiet sobs racking his body would remain invisible to all but the man who lie still beneath the soil. He buried his head in his arms, slowly dragging his knees to his chest. A tortured noise escaped him and he balled his fists, clutching at the tan jacket draped over his figure like a lifeline.
Ivory bandages clung to his skin, the thin gauze soaked through.
I'm sorry.
I can't do it.
"Odasaku..." His voice was hoarse as he croaked out the name others had long since forgotten. He twisted in order to lean his forehead against the headstone; feeling the cold wet granite against his skin. Yet another reminder that Odasaku wasn't there.
"I know you told me to help people but... haven't I done enough? I just- I just want to be by your side again." Dazai's voice cracked pitifully as he squeezed his eyes shut, trying to ignore the pounding sensation inside his skull.
The soft sound of someone approaching caused Dazai to jolt upright, blinking away the tears and fixing his expression. Belatedly, he realised that it wouldn't make any difference with this individual.
"He seemed like a good guy."
Dazai looked up pitifully, instantly dropping the façade when he processed who had come.
"Ranpo-san."
"I noticed you always disappear the same week every year. The other's have probably just chalked it up to coincidence, or assumed you were visiting someone."
Silence blanketed the air around them, suffocating had anyone else approached.
"...Although I suppose they wouldn't be too far off the mark on that last one. I looked up his obituary, it's quite detailed. I suppose Ango-kun is to thank for that one."
Dazai blinked dumbly as Ranpo looked back at him with those vibrant emerald eyes. He felt exposed—like his very soul was being gazed upon. Ranpo's eyes slipped back shut and he sat down a little ways back, legs crossed. He bowed his head slightly, murmuring something Dazai couldn't quite catch.
His heart was pounding in his chest and he felt like he couldn't breathe. Nothing was making sense. Why did—how did Ranpo know Odasaku?
"You...knew him." It was phrased like a question but the tone it carried was nothing short of a declaration. Seeing Ranpo paying his respects was...uncanny. The black haired detective showed his years in moments such as these, proof that he was more mature than his demeanor would suggest.
"No. I met him only a few times, each in passing." Ranpo explained, sitting back up and straightening his hat—almost as if he needed a distraction. "He meant a lot to you, though."
A deep sigh escaped Dazai as his breath materialised in the air. He pulled the trenchcoat tighter around himself as he slumped back against the tombstone, eyes drifting to the large tree that provided them slight shelter from the elements, despite it's lack of foliage.
"Yeah."
Silence fell once more, and Dazai half expected Ranpo to complain about him being boring and ask for help getting back to the agency.
"Im sorry, Dazai-kun."
"...What?"
He had not anticipated that.
Ranpo let out a groan and shook his head. "You're supposed to be the smart one! Why is it that you can't figure out something as simple as this?" He pouted for a moment before turning his attention back to Dazai, eyes drifting open once more. The piercing emerald gaze kept the brunet frozen in place, hardly even daring to breathe.
"You are grieving Odasaku, and I am sorry that you had to lose him. It was wrong of Mori to use him the way he did, and even worse of him to hold it over you."
"But it was my-"
"It wasn't. You know that I've never been wrong before, so when I say this, remember that you're listening to the greatest detective in the world!" Ranpo waved a hand nonchalantly, emerald eyes catching a glint of sunlight despite the dreariness of the day. It had been so long since Dazai's eyes had shined in such a way.
"None of it was your fault, Dazai-kun."
If anyone ever asked, Dazai had not cried that day. Not when he drank himself into a stupor, and not when Ranpo said that haunting phrase.
'Not your fault.'
For just how long had the opposite been echoing inside his mind? For all his brilliance, Dazai truly was an idiot. The brunet took a deep breath, letting his eyes drift shut for a moment. When they opened again...he felt the same.
Of course things wouldn't change. Not like that, not so suddenly.
His gaze drifted down to the fabric on his lap, and he felt the water trailing down his cheeks.
If anyone asked, it was just the rain.
No one asked.
"I was on a case. It was the day I met Fukuzawa-dono, and Oda was there."
...
"I was bleeding on his doorstep. He took me in and helped me get better."
They both let the statements settle between them, the pounding of the rain against the ground the only thing reminding them time wasn't frozen.
"He's the reason I left the mafia, you know."
Ranpo looked past Dazai, eyes settling on the tombstone. "I figured as much."
"He told me to live on the side of the good. To help people." His voice faltered, and he laughed. "What would he think if he saw me now..?"
It wasn't anyone's place to say, but Ranpo never was one for caring what was morally acceptable.
"He wouldn't be impressed."
Such a cold declaration caused a burning sensation to start up again in Dazai's chest. He felt like he was suffocating. Even though he already knew that to be true, he hadn't expected Ranpo to blatantly speak the same truth.
But the detective wasn't done.
"He knew you could do it, so why would he be shocked? Proud, maybe. He would be pleased, happy that you are happier." Ranpo stopped, only to sigh. "It's funny because you're definitely not happy right now, but that's okay. No matter how bad it gets, you have us to back you up—and don't make me repeat myself! Just because you're having a hard time today doesn't erase all the good memories you've made."
They sat with that notion as the cold rain continued to drip down around them, unaware or uncaring of the misery it disturbed.
"...I can't remember his face anymore, Ranpo-san." His voice cracked as he spoke, lip trembling. He bit his cheek, looking away as though that would make the moment less vulnerable. "I know what he looked like. I can remember his hair colour, the stubble on his chin...but it's not a full picture."
Ranpo's brows furrowed, gazing calmly at Dazai.
"That doesn't mean you didn't care about him. Human minds are fickle."
Human.
Dazai's chest tightened, his heart pounding in his ears.
"You should talk to Ango."
Dazai wanted to scream. This was all Ango's fault—but it wasn't. Ango loved Oda, in a way different from Dazai but no less important.
"I don't know how to face him." He whispered, an admission of guilt he had harboured ever since he was eighteen and screaming at the man for betraying his friend.
"He doesn't blame you, either."
You were just a kid lay unspoken but heavily in the air between them.
"...I know."
The silence dragged on, the world around them continuing to flow. A mourning dove's call echoed in Dazai's mind. Even the birds sing for you.
"Don't—" Dazai started, voice hoarse.
"I wasn't going to." Ranpo interrupted him, giving him a small smile. It was kind, not holding anything over him. There was no evidence that he had caught Dazai at his worst. Just a mutual understanding that things would stay as they were.
"Thank you...Ranpo-san." Dazai gave Ranpo a wavering smile.
"I wont mention it if you won't." Ranpo responded, adjusting his cap once more and standing.
Dazai got up as well, looking one last time at Oda's grave.
"I'll see you later, Odasaku..."
He felt tears slipping down his cheeks, eyes red rimmed from all the tears he had shed.
The grief didn't get smaller, or easier to handle...
...but he got stronger. His circle expanded to include people he could trust, both on and off the field. He had friends.
Aren't you proud, Odasaku?