Post chapter 47.5. Doesn't contain major spoilers, though.
Baby steps
.
Emptiness greets Dazai's hands when he reaches to his side, fingers curling around air and grasping only night. He drops his arms on the mattress, palms flat against the cold sheets.
A frown makes its way to his face before he can even open his eyes, uneasiness trailing an itchy path down his back. His own fringe obscures the view when he does; as he blinks his sleepiness away, Dazai sits up and shakes his head in a half-hearted attempt to fix his hair enough for him to see his surroundings. When he finally can look around he feels a bit dizzy.
Finding the room empty is not a surprise at this point; after not having heard any sort of reprimand or exasperated remark Dazai's eyes didn't expect a familiar figure sitting on other part of the bed or at the desk or standing at the entrance. It still draws a thin line between his pressed lips; the overwhelming silence pushes from every wall and makes the dim room smaller.
Dazai can tell, or at least predict and know he is right, what is wrong by only thinking back about too many nights like the one this is probably going to become. Concern still squeezes his insides tightly as he stands up and walks out of the room, stopping only when he trips over the loose end of a bandage to wrap it around his ankle again.
Foreseeably he finds Kunikida in the living room, sitting by the kotatsu with his legs folded under him. From the entrance, where his hand leans on the doorframe, Dazai can only see his back, but Kunikida gives no sign of acknowledging his partner's presence. Judging by the apparently cold tea on the table, he has been in this state for longer than Dazai would like.
Dazai breathes out something between a sigh and a soft huff. He is tired and he would rather go back to sleep and
(this is pointless this will be pointless it's always pointless)
he lets go of the doorframe, takes small, quiet steps towards Kunikida, stops right behind him and drops to his knees gently.
"Kunikida-kun, you should be sleeping."
The absence of even the slightest wince proves Dazai's previous assumption wrong. At the same time, he's not surprised Kunikida sensed his presence even when he himself wasn't sure he wanted to be there. Not really.
Kunikida nods. His voice is too calm when he replies:
"I guess."
He hasn't bothered to switch the light on. Through the window lights from streetlamps and occasional cars filter into the living room. They paint everything with warm colours; the walls have yellowish patches where the rays reach them, the table glows orange– Kunikida's long hair, for once not tied in a ponytail, looks more red than blond.
"Then let's go."
Kunikida's posture slouches a bit. "I can't sleep."
"At least you'll get some rest." Dazai notices the plea in his voice too late.
But he isn't good at looking after people. Usually it's the other way around: Kunikida gets him out of the river twice a month and takes him home when he's too drunk to stand by himself and threatens to break up with him if Dazai keeps drinking himself to sleep and the morning after takes care of his hangover begrudgingly and coaxes him into making promises Dazai is trying to get better at keeping.
Dazai is good at being a mafioso and solving cases and annoying Kunikida. And right now
(he doesn't need your jokes or your elaborated thoughts)
all he can do is sneaking his arms around his partner's waist and bringing him close.
"You can't save everyone," he whispers, leaning his chin on Kunikida's shoulder. "You already knew that."
"I don't want to let innocent people die in front of me– and I can't do something that simple."
Dazai watches Kunikida's tense jaw, the shadow of his lips pursed together in anger and helplessness, doesn't know how to get rid of the ghosts that keep haunting his partner. Kunikida is too arrogant to admit his ideal is nowhere as easy as he makes it sound, too proud to see he is bound to lose such a battle. There is little Dazai can do about that, the same way there is little Kunikida can do to kill his will to die the days the meaninglessness of life threatens to crush him.
"Why don't you look at it this way?" Dazai suggests. As usual his tone is more confident than himself. "There are way more people you saved than people you couldn't. That's objective, isn't it?"
Kunikida tenses up. His lips tremble a bit.
"The problem, Dazai, is that people aren't numbers."
Dazai closes his eyes, only slightly hurt at the implicit accusation in his partner's voice. Sometimes he wonders how Kunikida feels about dating someone whose hands are stained with so much blood that not even several lifetimes helping people would clean; of course
(he's too important)
he never asks.
"I know," Dazai eventually replies; he doesn't really mind his fingers tremble enough for Kunikida to feel them shaking against his old t-shirt. "Which is why seeing you like this is more painful than a hundred faceless corpses."
A car drives down the street; its light reflects and falls through the window, illuminates the whole room for a second. Dazai opens his eyes just in time to catch a glimpse of Kunikida's astounded expression as he looks at him out of the corner of his eye.
"Then––" Dazai can't help a smile when he feels the heat creeping up his partner's neck. "Were you even making a point?"
Dazai sighs. "I was trying to. I…" He trails off, lets his smile fall takes his time to think about the words he wants to use
(you should just give up on this)
and breathes in deeply. "I think what you are set to do is admirable. It's such a big task… and exactly because of that, it's impossible."
For a while, Kunikida stays silent. He doesn't move, almost doesn't even breathe. Dazai stares at the cup of cold tea, still convinced he is awful at this but a bit more determined to end this situation and scared of what might happen if he doesn't find the way.
"So you're telling me to give up?"
Dazai shakes his head. "I'm telling you to face reality and stop blaming yourself over things you can't control. The bad guys have to win sometimes, too."
His voice sounds harsher than he intended it to. But for once he doesn't want to choose the easy way out and avoid the conversation with a joke; he wants Kunikida to stop hurting over something that wasn't even his fault. Even if it means angering his partner.
Dealing with an angry Kunikida is easy, anyway.
Dazai flinches when a kiss lands on his temple. He tilts his head to look at Kunikida, takes in his whole face for the first time. His eyes are clouded with a storm that is not over yet, but there is something in his lips that looks like the beginning of a smile– something that wasn't there last night, or the night prior.
"Perhaps you're right."
Dazai snorts. "Of course I am." Kunikida's hand takes his and squeezes it gently. "How about we go to bed now?"
"Mm." Kunikida exhales through his nose. "I hate it when I agree with you––"
"Unfortunately, you have to agree with me often."
"––but you're more important for me than many people, too."
Dazai supposes his expression is something like Kunikida's face just some minutes ago. He stares, tries to process those words –he kind of knew it, figured out that there must be something a bit irrational that bounds the two of them together– but he doesn't know how to answer that and Kunikida's choked reply seems terribly eloquent now.
"So bed is it?"
Only when Kunikida shrugs him off and stands, and helps him stand, Dazai finds a comeback.
There is no way to solve things in one late night conversation, and he's still awful at looking after Kunikida, but as their lips press against each other Dazai realises that
(you love him and that's probably a bad idea)
he's willing to keep trying.
Author's notes: I don't know if I love more writing about this ship or getting familiar with Dazai through this ship. Anyway, I enjoyed writing this a lot.
And you? Did you like it? You can tell me in the box below ^^