today's word for you is 'splendid' which fits u imo ( 〃▽〃)
The chain swayed between his fingers, and the ring hanging from it caught a splendid glint of light.
He swallowed against the sudden tightness in his chest. It was his shield—a familiar weight hidden beneath layers of bandages and gauze over his heart. Unnoticeable, an intrinsic part of him, until he had to take it off, and then he became a puppet with its strings severed.
His lips pressed into a thin line, and the tangled mess of emotions he refused to examine too closely tightened the knot in his stomach until it made him feel sick.
He forced a smile. His mouth stretched upward in something almost comical as he clung to that careless attitude, the one he had worn like a second skin for so long he no longer knew who he was without it, and turned just before the door cracked open.
Ranpo looked at him with one brow arched, no trace of amusement on his face, and gestured with the lollipop in his hand.
“For the show?” he joked, but the words came out strangled. He twisted his mouth and tried to recover, another quip already forming on the tip of his tongue—something about obedient, sleeping dolls—but the detective cut him off by holding out his hand, palm up.
“You want to hold hands?”
It sounded pathetic, even to his own ears. Yet, for some reason, Ranpo didn’t laugh.
The seriousness in his voice irritated him. It was childish, playing dumb when the clock was running against them and Fyodor was pulling strings from behind the curtain.
But the weight of the chain between his fingers made him reckless. He was eighteen again, his chest swollen with indescribable feelings, with fire, stars, and the ocean cradled in his arms.
“Dazai,” Ranpo warned, and Dazai wanted to lash out, to turn defensive. “It was your plan.”
Dazai deflated like a balloon leaking air.
Ranpo’s expression softened.
“I’ll take care of it for you.”
And who will take care of its owner?
Dazai tightened his grip on the chain and nodded, bittersweetness coating his tongue. He handed over the chain, the ring flashing once before the flip phone followed after it.
“Mr. Fancy Hat will snatch it.”
They weren’t talking about that, but neither of them had needed to say the words until now.
Dazai looked away and blinked hard, trying to chase off tears he had long since forgotten how to shed.
“You’re giving that shorty way too much credit.”