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They say before you're even born, fate lines out your connections. Some say a divine being is responsible, others pin it down to destiny. Ultimately, it is typically agreed upon that one is connected to their soulmate with nothing but a simple invisible red string. Such a string is responsible for soulmate connection, whether platonic or romantic. Chuuya Nakahara thought he had found this connection within the Sheep.
That was, however, thrown out the window on the day that Chuuya was to join the Port Mafia. It was a sunny day of sorts, Chuuya gazing over the cliff. He knew that there was a bit of tension between he and Shirase after he had sorta 'abandoned' him at the arcade. Yet, he didn't expect him to stab him in the back- not to say Chuuya hadn't forgiven him- he definitely had, after all Shirase was only scared for the Sheep.
Although Chuuya had already forgiven Shirase, he knew he was not the one whom he fostered an underlying spiritual connection to. He exhaled, as he stared at himself in the mirror. It had been a month since he had joined the Port Mafia, and he still didn't necessarily feel like fostering any connections. Despite having announced his loyalty to the Mafia after leaving the Sheep, he still wasn't ready to fully settle.
"Hey Chuuya! What a coincidence seeing you here." A nuisance shouted, coming into the bathroom and standing next to him. The reflection of the bandaged boy appeared next to Chuuya, and he rolled his eyes and snarled a bit.
"Hey, Dazai." Chuuya managed out, not exactly caring to make his tone light.
"Why is the little chihuahua angry?" Dazai teased, grinning cockily. Chuuya inhaled sharply, making his annoyance with the boy obvious.
"We aren't friends, dickhead. You're simply a walking blabbermouth who just so happens to be my… coworker." Chuuya's tone pitched up toward the end, making it sound more or less like a question, rather than a statement. He and Dazai were both in the Mafia, yet he didn't exactly bother to know Dazai's place in the Mafia hierarchy. He knew, thanks to Kouyou's guidance that he wasn't exactly at the top either, but he was determined to get to the top sooner or later.
"Fufufu.. coworkers for now, but soon enough you'll be my subordinate! I'll be an executive real soon, before you can even dream of it." Dazai grinned, likely knowing it'd piss Chuuya off. So, he was Chuuya's coworker… and he didn't outrank him. Great, that meant him and Chuuya were practically on the same footing. That meant he technically had zero advantage over Chuuya. Great.
"I'll be your subordinate when dogs can talk."
"Oh, but Chuuya's talking already! Has he admitted defeat so easily?"
"Why you- I'll kick your ass!" Chuuya shouted, eliciting a giggle out of Dazai. Dazai seemed to know that Chuuya was bluffing- after all, Chuuya was a bit newer to the Mafia than Dazai was. Plus, as far as Chuuya knew, Dazai knew the boss better than he did. After pledging his loyalty, it would be a bit counterproductive to beat his coworker up.
"Mmm… I'm bored!" Dazai suddenly exclaimed, throwing his arms up. "Does Chuuya know anything fun? Like a new suicide method- even better if it's painless!"
"Damn you, walking hotline patron. Like Hell I'd know a suicide method, much less a painless one." Chuuya muttered, crossing his arms. He was about to mutter out something about telling Dazai to fuck off and he'd rather watch paint dry than hang out with him… but if he were to be completely honest, Chuuya found that he was rather bored himself. If he thought about it too much, he'd come to the conclusion that sometimes he did enjoy Dazai's company, but he refused to admit that himself.
"Oh, so Chuuya doesn't know anything? What a pity… I was so sure-"
"Wait. I might know something." Chuuya muttered, brushing a couple hair strands out of his face. The bandaged boy's face lit up, and he rolled his eyes. "No, it's not a suicide method. You'll just have to trust me on this one."
The morning October air in Yokohama was cool. Leaves had already fallen from the trees, and the fall atmosphere had set in. Dazai had attempted to make conversation with Chuuya along the way to their destination, only to be shushed by Chuuya. Although Chuuya didn't exactly mind the nonsensical bickering, it didn't set the mood for what he was planning. They slowly made their way (as Chuuya shook his head when Dazai had suggested the subway) toward the sea.
The two made their way toward the beach and overlooked the sea together. The early Sun's rays glimmered on the upper ocean layer, creating a beautiful cascade effect that was enchanting to view. It was a tad windy, causing Chuuya to shiver a bit. Nothing he couldn't handle, though. The sea's aroma was fresh and salty, as birds chirped overhead.
When he was with the Sheep, this was Chuuya's favorite pastime. Gazing out into the sea was a peaceful change for once that made him feel serene. It made him forget sometimes that he was in a gang, or the Mafia now, and made him feel like an ordinary boy. It made him feel a hint of normalcy for once, made him almost forget the burden of not feeling akin to others. Forget that his humanity was an incongruent theme in his life. It lifted the burden off his shoulders that was the question of who he was, as his mind was consumed by the natural beauty of the sea, the salty aroma, and the sounds of waves gently cascading against the shore.
"The sea is pretty," Dazai suddenly whispered, making Chuuya scoff a bit. No shit, Chuuya thought to himself, before Dazai spoke up again "it reminds me of one of your eyes."
"Huh?" Chuuya turned to look at Dazai and tilted his head, confused by the sudden compliment. Usually, he'd say something stupid like how much he'd appreciate drowning in such a beautiful location.
"Mmm… the left one. Your left eye is blue, like the sea. I like it." Dazai confirmed, shifting his gaze toward Chuuya. Chuuya felt his face flush, not knowing if Dazai's comments were genuine or teasing flirtations to make fun of him. Yet, his eyes seemed genuine- they were sparkling a bit more than they typically did. The two gazed at each other briefly, causing something to churn within Chuuya's stomach. Quickly, he averted his gaze back to the pristine sea.
"Thanks." Chuuya whispered, not exactly wanting Dazai to hear for whatever reason. He felt his palms sweating a bit, and took it upon himself to lower the sudden tension between the two of them. "So… you don't wanna drown yourself right now?"
"Hm. Never said the thought didn't cross my mind. But…maybe if I could gaze into such a sight forever, I could compromise with living…" Dazai trailed off, making Chuuya cock an eyebrow. It was odd, seeing Dazai this way. It was as if something had shifted within him, something more than just looking out into the sea. As if the beauty of the location had warped his mind into more than just being an asshole. It felt unusually raw, intimate even.
Chuuya returned to look at Dazai again, but to his dismay the other boy resumed staring back into the sea in silence. Something ached within him- something much deeper, and much more complex than anything Chuuya had ever felt prior to that moment. Something so deep, that enveloped an array of different feelings that meddled in his mind. Briefly, a thought fluttered in his mind about possibly wanting to be more than just coworkers with Dazai, but that was impossible. For, if Dazai knew about him being inhuman, he had no doubt in his mind that he'd be reluctant to befriend him. Much less, even talk to him. Yet, that knowledge didn't shut the feeling down.
If anything the thought of that almost made the feeling stronger, louder. More apparent, as something beat rapidly within Chuuya's chest. He felt his pinkie twitch a bit, almost as if weighed a bit more suddenly. A light weight seemed to pull his pinky closer to the side, as if a small string were being tightened around it. He blinked, and gazed downward almost expecting a tiny string to suddenly be there. But, there was no such string and his pinky looked normal. Yet, for whatever reason, his hand begun to twitch.
"Mm?" Dazai slowly averted his gaze from the sea down to Chuuya, then to Chuuya's hand which continued to twitch. Chuuya bit his lip harshly- this never had happened before. He didn't understand why his hand suddenly had a mind of its own- shaking rapidly without reason. He wasn't feeling stressed or anything, if anything he was feeling quite at peace. He inhaled sharply, ready for Dazai to throw a cocky insult at him. He furrowed his brow, and glared at the idiot waiting for the usual bickering to start, tensing up a bit in preparation for the moment to be ruined. For nothing to remain aside from shards of such a calm reality; Dazai suddenly curled his fingers around Chuuya's.
Chuuya's breath hitched, it was practically immediate as his hand stopped twitching. Dazai didn't grin his usual sinister one, rather he smiled lightly. The two looked into each others eyes peacefully as the Sun finished rising overhead and settled into its point in the sky. Gazing into the other boy, Chuuya wondered what lay behind the set of bandages Dazai wore around his head. He wondered if the brunet's other eye was the same dark shade of dark brown, almost black. Another dark gateway into the boy's soul, so murky and complex yet hypnotizing to gaze into. Chuuya found himself falling in. Into those dark eyes that spun beautiful tales, disenchanting lies, and horrid insults. And he would have fallen completely in if Dazai's phone didn't ring and pull him away.
They say a red string ties you to your soulmate and the string is formed and tied before you're even born. Now, walking back to the Port Mafia with Dazai next to him Chuuya is certain. More certain than ever his string is connected to Dazai, as he notes how closely they walk together. Some say that the string can snap, and Chuuya swallows hard. Something deeply within him hurt. Hurt by the fact that his string- his closest tie to humanity may rip apart. He doesn't notice it when he begins walking a bit closer to Dazai.
As the pair makes it closer to the Port Mafia base, the energy shifts a bit. Prior, it felt raw and intimate, but secret. Now, it felt as if the two had shifted from a different reality and were returning back into what was known. Chuuya would've believed it, the way he suddenly moved further from Dazai as the Mafia base made it closer into view. The way Dazai didn't question it, and ignored the way the shorter boy moved further away, securing a nice distance.
"Hm…hanging out with the hat rack is fun! Maybe it is more fun than attempting suicide!" Dazai suddenly rejoiced, affirming the fact that what had occurred the two was very real in this reality. Chuuya smiled, not exactly annoyed by Dazai's insult for once.
"You're not so bad for a guy that's a modern mummy."
𓍯𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃
Chuuya found the recent peace in the Mafia odd, but that was the least of his worries. After all, he had recently been promoted to Executive- something he had been after for years. The unusual ease he felt was chalked up to him having recently been promoted, it'd make sense after all. Not that he was slacking now, if anything he was working harder. If he wasn't in battle, he was in a meeting, and if not in a meeting, he was filing paperwork. He had no time to linger on why the Mafia felt off.
It was a bright summer day in July when Chuuya was called into Mori's office. He was about to clock out for the day (and work on paperwork in his apartment), when suddenly Mori sent one of the low-ranking Mafia grunts to fetch him. He didn't question his calling, as he had been putting in what he believed to be sufficient work.
Chuuya made his way into the boss' office carefully; despite being an Executive now, he still maintained his respect for Mori. When he entered, he bowed and greeted the boss.
"It's a pleasure to be called here, Sir." He greeted, removing his hat out of respect. Mori nodded, smiling.
"Ah, Chuuya. One of my most loyal members…tell me, has anything felt odd recently?" Mori questioned, placing his hands on his desk. His voice was calm, but he seemed like he had a lot on his mind. Chuuya furrowed his brow, a bit confused by such an ambiguous question. After all, he had recently been promoted but he felt as if Mori was asking a deeper question. A question rooted in someone else other than Chuuya.
"Well, being an Executive is a lot of work…" He trailed off, as realization struck him. He hadn't heard from Dazai in awhile, nor had he seen him around. He had assumed that he was doing secret work under Mori, as he was also an Executive. "…it's been real peaceful here. Dazai's been quiet."
Mori made an odd face. Chuuya began to piece together what he had based on the nature of the question and his reaction, as well as how peaceful the Mafia had felt as of late. Dazai suddenly going quiet was completely out of character for the bastard- not that he and Chuuya were getting along as of late. Particularly after the Dragon Head Conflict, Chuuya began hearing less from Dazai, only pairing with him for work the boss had sent them on. Which, Chuuya had believed to just simply be the result of work consuming him due to Dazai's promotion as Executive. But, if Mori was asking him…that meant-
"Ah. Dazai's gone, isn't he?" Chuuya managed out, more a statement rather than a question. Mori looked at him with what appeared to be a sad smile, letting out a small sigh. Chuuya blinked, a bit surprised. He was ready for Mori to laugh, say Dazai was out doing super secret Mafia work, and that he needed to pair him and Dazai up again. Mori wasn't a man of puns, however.
"Hm. You've put two and two together, I see. By your reaction, I can tell you don't know where he is. Very well then, Chuuya. You are excused."
The ride down the elevator was silent. A numbness overwhelmed Chuuya, as something weighed down on him heavily. Dazai? Being gone? Impossible. He was the youngest Port Mafia Executive. One of- if not the most intelligent Mafia members. But here he was, gone. Disappeared into thin air. Chuuya had thoughts of taking his car home, only to recall it had mysteriously exploded not too long ago. Biting his tongue, he swallowed his pride and took the long walk to his apartment.
Rays of the sun beat down on Chuuya's skin. It was as if the universe had went out of its way to make fun of his situation. Children ran about in the morning streets of Yokohama: playing tag and bickering about…Chuuya didn't know why he tensed up a bit. He didn't feel angst, nor sorrow- numbness was the best way to describe such an emotion, or lack thereof. He hadn't even realized he had left his stack of paperwork back at the Port Mafia base.
The apartment complex was quite luxurious, as Chuuya walked into the lobby. A sleek rug colored a deep shade of red lay beneath his feet, which he only noticed due to the change of texture beneath his feet. He didn't greet the front desk worker like he typically did, nor did he engage in the typical amount of smalltalk. Instead, he forced a smile and nodded at the attendant as he made his way into the elevator.
The elevator ride was silent. Nobody else entered- not the usual old man, or the typical rich teenage girl. It was nothing but Chuuya and his thoughts. Dazai couldn't be dead, but there was also no way he had simply disappeared from the Mafia. He was much too valuable an asset for Mori to let go of- he paired up much too well with Chuuya on missions. Hell, they had defeated an agency on their own at some point. Finally, the elevator opened allowing Chuuya to make his way into his apartment.
His apartment was quite empty. He had recently moved in, after being promoted to Executive. He had yet to haul in any trinkets, or decor of the sort. However, he did have wine. He grabbed a bottle of Petrus 1989 and a wineglass. Sitting against his wall, he popped open the bottle and began slowly filling the glass of wine. He gazed out the window, staring into the bright Yokohama sky. The Sun was high, its rays glimmering off of the sea and creating a nice shimmer effect. It had been awhile since Chuuya had visited the sea, and a part of him wondered if that was how Dazai chose to finally kick the bucket.
"Bandaged asshole. Finally got the suicide you wanted, eh?" Chuuya managed, a crack in his voice he didn't expect to come out. He raised the glass, offering a cheers to Dazai completing what he yearned for. Or, what he could assume was a completion of Dazai's want for years. After all, no one disappears from the Mafia without being found. Osamu Dazai was no different, even if he was stupidly intelligent.
Chuuya found himself guzzling the wine down. The rich taste seeped into his taste buds, and roused his mind even further. Before the wine went down his throat, he felt quite numb- but, now the reality set in deeper. The reality seeped down his throat, into the rhythmic beating of his heart, and then somewhere deeper. His soul. Dazai was gone. That meant the string Chuuya believed to be connecting the two all those years ago… he shook the thought from his mind, pouring another glass.
He continued to pour glass after glass. He slowly sipped down the wine, allowing the taste to rest on his tongue a bit before swallowing. He slowly drank, but he was well aware of how much he was drinking and almost wondered if it was too much. He stopped after four glasses, feeling rather lightheaded, as the world spun around him a bit. His mind raced. There was no way Dazai was dead. Mori would know. But there was no way Dazai was alive either. He scowled, pulling out his flip phone and jamming a familiar set of numbers in.
"Some partner you are, you dick." He muttered, as he called Dazai. He had a feeling if Dazai were alive, he'd pick up. He trusted Dazai, and he knew Dazai trusted him like no other. The phone rang. Once. Twice. A third time. Then the phone buzzed the 'no-answer' tone.
Chuuya gazed at the phone blankly, then he faintly smiled. He wasn't happy. He wasn't sure what he felt. For some reason, his mind swirled with thoughts that made his heart weigh heavy within himself. Something inexplicable burned within him, he swallowed hard attempting to keep the wine down.
"Finally got what you wanted, eh shithead?" He spat, chucking the phone aside.
Chuuya didn't cry. In fact, he remained rather calm as he pushed the bottle of Petrus 1989 aside and leaned more against the wall. The apartment was silent. The rest of his life would likely be reminiscent of this newfound silence without Dazai around. But he wouldn't describe the silence as peaceful. Not anymore.
They say fate ties an invisible red string to your soulmate before you even exist. But what happens if that soulmate dies? Does the string break? Such questions corrupted Chuuya's mind, as he drifted off into a drunk slumber. His heart stung, as he noticed the fact his pinkie felt lighter.
𓍯𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃
It had been years since that morning in Yokohama. Years since Dazai had pestered him. Years since Chuuya had assumed Dazai had finally gotten what he had wanted- to commit suicide. Yet, here Chuuya was, years later allowing Dazai to be set free from the Port Mafia's basement.
Chuuya no longer felt the deep connection that was there when the two were fifteen. Nor the flurry of complex emotions in his mind the night that Dazai disappeared. Instead, he felt a brief sense of relief after he had sworn to be the one to kill Dazai. Chuuya slowly made his way out of the Port Mafia basement, trusting Dazai to make it seem like someone from the Armed Detective Agency had come to save him. Despite the fact Chuuya no longer felt such strong emotions for the suicide fanatic, he still trusted him.
Some say a red string ties you to your soulmate, and the string is decided before you even enter the world. It is a myth Chuuya heard whispers long ago, during his time with the Sheep; before he had even entered the Port Mafia, when he had hated the group. Some believed the string could rip if the stars misaligned, others believed it was permanent, and others even believed the string could even be a bad omen.
Chuuya no longer put such thought into myths as he did when he was younger. But he knew, as he felt an invisible force tighten, then loosen around his pinkie that he had a string. The string was likely not as tight as it was when he had first joined the Mafia, nor was it as frayed as it was the day Dazai disappeared, but he knew the string was taut. This didn't stop the knot from being tight, holding the two together by a connection much deeper than what seemed to be reality.