Take My Hand, Let Me Save You Like You Save Me | Soukoku
Based on Heaven and Back by Chase Atlantic.
Angst but then fluff. I'm not that familiar with Corruption and how it works so please correct me if I get anything wrong. This is set before Soukoku start dating.
Words: 4,194
⚠️TW: drugs, drug use, and almost drug overdose | Dazai typical suicidal thoughts, attempted suicide, and depression.
NOT PROOFREAD (no beta we die like Oda)
(A/N: This is way more angsty than I intended but there is more fluff in later chapters. Under the cut due to length. This has been edited for grammar. At the point I was writing this I didn’t know that No Longer Human is always active so we’re just going to ignore that little fact. Also, the logic behind Corruption is nowhere to be found. I was a very new fan when I wrote this.)
Dazai’s Perspective
Mori's office is filled with every kind of lethal pill imaginable, and I just had to grab a non-lethal one, a hallucinogenic one, I think. I was crying at the time, my eyes blurring at the edges until the fog spread and the tears spilled over.
Now my eyes blur for a different reason, visions of bright, flashing colours and mangled corpses dance in and out of my view. I can't take this, it's not working, I need more.
I dump a few more pills into my palm (3 maybe 7, I can't tell) and swallow them with the stolen whiskey. It tastes bitter, an acidic burn, fire, but I'm flying and I love it. The pain distracts me from everything else and the light feeling is a bliss I never thought I'd ever get to feel.
I stand up (fall down? I can't tell which direction is which.) and notice for the first time, the fluorescents of the warehouse. Gosh, they're beautiful. They should be in a museum not in this dingy warehouse. Who would bother buying lights this nice for a place like this? Then again Mori is like super crazy rich. I tilt my head and they move with me, incredible! I spin, and so do they, making swirls across the grey beams. I wish Chuuya were here to see this. Chuuya makes everything better. He'll be so upset that he missed this.
Suddenly the swirls are taking over my thoughts, I can only think in spirals and my brain feels like it's being rolled up into the spirals. It doesn't feel . . . bad? Anything's better than the pain, I guess? My stomach lurches, being pulled into the spiral as well, and I vomit neon green and pink onto the warehouse floor. It's beautiful and then gone. Then back again, then gone, taking the floor with it. I hear a distant thud and the lights feel farther away.
Pain pounds in my head as the lights come back. This time they're blurred, black eating at the edges. I watch, entranced, as the black and the lights fight. I can't decide who I want to win, they're both so beautiful. The black is winning and I am falling, falling, falling (but wasn't I already down), slipping deeper. Does it feel bad? I don't know. I can't feel anything. Is that a bad thing? Isn't this what I wanted?
Yes. I've always wanted this. Even numbness is better than the pain, and if this is how I get it then I'd gladly do it again. This is what I've been looking for, something I'm not even sure I could get from death: the feeling of already being gone, like I'm no longer human, a machine, a monster. It's not nearly death but I'll take it.
I hear a voice drifting in and out but it sinks to the bottom of my black ocean, along with any remaining fight I had left in me.
Chuuya’s Perspective
Where is he? Where is that shitty bastard? He said he would be home tonight. But that look on his face. I knew he was lying.
"Why the fuck did you let him go, dumbass!" I think to myself. I thought privacy would be a good idea but now it doesn't matter, I have to get to him before he hurts himself.
When I turn the corner, I hear soft sobbing and heavy breathing coming from the warehouse. I know it's him and I dash inside.
He lies curled up in a corner, eyes rolled back in his head, not himself, like when I use Corruption.
"Dazai! Wake up!" no answer, "Wake up, shitty Dazai, wake up."
His corpse-like person stays the same but he's still breathing, he has to be.
"Dammit!!!" He still doesn't stir, panic, turning to pure terror as it claws up my throat, combined with hot anger I feel like I'm about to combust. "No, fuck you! How could you do this?" I ask the unresponsive boy, the words turn to please as they leave my mouth. Desperation now joins the swirl of emotions, "I loved you, I love you! And you go and leave me like this! What about me? What about me, huh? Are you just gonna leave me like this?" I punch him, "Answer me, asshole, I said answer me!"
But at this point, I can see it's useless. His corpse is still, with no breath rising or falling from his still-warm body. The tears come suddenly and I let myself lay over my dead partner, friend (more than friend?). I cry for him, and his situation, and his death, and for what we could've been. I wanted it, oh how I wanted him to return my feelings but it all feels so stupid now, now I just want him alive.
I don't care if they find me like this, draped over the boy I love (and will love until the day I die, even after), I hope they do. Someone deserves to pay. The anger pulses back again, stronger. White hot rage, blacking out my vision. Arahabaki. The Rage only lasts for a second then I'm back, the feeling gone again.
I feel something inside me break.
If Corruption is activating while I'm touching Dazai, then he really is dead. It hits me in the stomach, worse than any punch from an enemy. I should be worried but I don't care if I destroy everything. I don't care if I destroy myself. I don't want to live without Dazai Osamu and I deserve whatever I get for leaving him alone like this. I promised I promised he wouldn't die alone, and yet here I am, doing too little too late as I guess we always knew I would. The one mistake I can't take back.
I try to summon it back, the Rage. I want to hit something, I want to hit myself until I can't anymore. But a noise distracts me, wheezing, then choked breaths. Dazai struggles to sit. A gasp leaves my lips. He's alive, undeniably so, but how. It's been at least 5 minutes.
I can feel his heartbeat, slightly too fast but strong, in his chest, and his breathing the same. Did I . . . bring him back? No, Arahabaki did. For the first time, real gratitude for the god surges in me but I have to focus on Dazai now.
He opens his brown eyes, they're wide with surprise and wet with tears. But not the deep and curious look that only I know, dull and sad. I'll take anything.
He gets up, seemingly perfectly fine, just sad. He sits back down, head between his knees, hands covering his eyes but I can see his shoulder skating with the silent sobs. Distraught. I can't take him in pain like this. My body moves before I can think about what I'm doing.
I hold out my hand.
He doesn't take it.
"Please." it comes out too desperate, "please" I try again softer. He lifts his arms and nods, grasping my hand. The connection makes me feel safer than I ever have. "Let me help you," He's still looking down. "Like you've helped me so many times."
"You don't owe me." is all he says
"I do, but that's not why I'm doing this. I'm doing it because I'm human and so are you, I want to help you and . . ." I swallow the lump in my throat, "I care about you, more than you'll ever know."
This makes him look up, our eyes lock, a thousand words unspoken. "Now please, let me save you like, you save me"
He stands up and I don't really know what to do so I put my hands around his waist, an awkward kind of hug, my palms feel hot. Soon we're fully embracing each other. Dazai letting me support his weight, support him. I want him to see things how I do so faster than I can talk myself out of it I hold him tighter and let myself float a metre above the ground.
We stay there for a while.
Then Dazai whispers something into my chest, the words a soft vibration, like a cat's purr.
"Hmm?"
"I said, the city looks beautiful from up here."
The words leave my mouth without my permission, "Most deadly things look pretty."
He smiles an actual smile. It hides itself beneath a neutral expression quickly but I know it was there and I'd do anything to see it again.
"You look beautiful up here," he whispers, I don't think he meant for me to hear but I'm so close to him that it's impossible not to, the quieter. "Chuuya always looks beautiful"
I feel myself blushing, my heart skipping a beat and picking up again in double time.
All of a sudden the warehouse feels too small so I fly up to the roof. Dazai's eyes widen in surprise and he holds me tighter, bandaged arms snugly around my waist. I try to ignore the feeling in my stomach and focus on the roof.
It's different. I've never flown with someone else before and I thought I would have to remind myself to be gentle but adjusting and softening my movements for Dazai comes easily to me, an unconscious action.
I touch down on the roof and the wind swirls around us, playing with Dazai's hair in a beautiful way. I watch it tangle around for a moment before snapping out of it. I could stare longer if I wanted to. Dazai has his back to me, staring out at the city. Almost on the edge.
I follow his gaze to an empty green lot, overgrown with only a small warehouse.
"That lot has been empty forever," he says in a monotone
"Yeah, I don't think it's Mori's."
"They tried to sell it a while ago," the slightest tint of emotion enters his voice, but I can't identify it, "but no one wanted to buy it."
"I can see why. I'd probably be more trouble to fix up than it's worth."
"I think it's a nice place." The emotion is unmistakable now: longing. "Private, nobody pays attention to it, no super close neighbors, quiet, but you can see the whole city from the roof." Longing for a home, a place to settle, a place to be his answer when someone asks where he's from, where he belongs. I know because I want these things too.
"You've been there?"
"I used to hide out there."
There's silence, we're still speaking, just not with words. He tells me with the way he steps closer to the ledge.
"Yeah, it could be pretty nice. I bet someone will buy it, some super-rich real estate person, and then sell it." I feel Dazai's shoulders slump as I finish the sentence. I want to say sorry but I'm not sure what for, or what to start with because I have so many things to say sorry for.
"Before I joined, it was my place, the closest thing to a home that I had. Now I live here of course but I–"
"I get it. You don't want it going to just anyone." He gives me a small smile for my understanding, but he's almost off the ledge now. I won't let him go again. I won't.
I grab his waist and pull him away from the ledge, back to me. Close, close, closer until we can feel each other's heartbeats.
Music echoes from the distance, a street party. It seems to grow louder, and so does my heartbeat. The first move is mine, the next is his and before we know it we're moving to it together, gliding, spinning, twisting, not in synchronisation, but the movements seem to all fit together. Dancing. I'm dancing with Dazai Osamu and my heart soars.
It feels like I'm floating and then I realise, we are. I've taken us up, just above the floor of the roof. We dance up here uncaring free, the feelings running wild even if only for one night. I let myself go higher, the feeling in my chest unravelling and releasing the tension as we move together.
This feeling: raw, pure, intense, and wholly human. Puts me on a high, grounding me at the same time. And maybe humans don't feel this passionately, maybe I'm not human, but if being inhuman allows me to feel like this if it allowed me to save the love of my life, it can't be so bad.
Dazai’s Perspective
It's a habit at this point. Constantly pushing further even after I've gone way past way too far just because fuck it. Stepping closer to the ledge, farther from life until all I can see is the ground below. It wouldn't even be jumping, just falling. The smallest shift of my body weight forward, a motion nobody would even notice until it's already too late. Another step.
You might wonder, Wouldn't I miss Chuuya? If I'm dead I can't miss anyone. If I could miss him though, I would, but it doesn't matter. He'll be fine. He might have saved me but I know he doesn't care about me the way I would like him to. It's obvious, he hates me but I still can't let him go. It'd be better for all of us if I just fell.
He'll find another partner, move on, and forget all about me, be the youngest living Port Mafia executive. He'd like that. I start to lean forward a bit. Arms grab my waist, strong, warm, and secure. He pulls me closer, and closer and closer until there's no space left. I still want to be closer.
Pop music begins to blast from a few streets over, loud and clear from up here. The lights of the city seem to dance in time to the music and Chuuya looks as stunning as ever, wind tousled red hair and blue eyes bright with emotion . . . humanity.
He's everything I don't want, everything I know I'll never have. And that just makes me want him all the more. I don't want his humanity or his emotion for myself, I want him to want me with all of himself. I want him to love me with all of his searing passion until I burn from the inside out.
I said Chuuya would be the death of me but I didn't say it with malice. I would love for him to end. For him to take my life away with the sheer force of our contradicting personalities. Death by his hand would be . . . perfect.
The brutal conclusion to a brutal life.
Suddenly I'm knocked off my feet, or not knocked, but rather the ground disappears from under me, but I'm not falling, I'm floating.
Chuuya.
It's my instinct to hold on tighter to Chuuya but that would only make things more awkward so I let go. I expect to fall but I don't stay where I am. Ah, Chuuya must be controlling my gravity field. I don't mind, not at all.
He catches my hand, a look of pure exhilaration on his face, and I use the rebound to spin him away, catching him again. His touch cancels out everything else as if he's the one with the nulling ability. This is better than any drug, the pain is no more. All I can feel is Chuuya. He feels good, better than. I know I may never get to do this again so tonight I dance with Chuuya. I allow myself to get as close as I want to. He doesn't protest.
He may not love me in that way (but he must have at least some affection for me or he would never be letting me do this), but I know that as long as I have Chuuya I can live with myself.
Chuuya’s Perspective
It feels like we could've danced forever but eventually, we end up on the edge of the roof. Not like last time, nothing like last time. This time Dazai sits in my lap, (which I'll admit is a bit awkward because of the um *cough* height difference *cough* Hey, shut up, inner Dazai voice!), and shockingly he makes an effort to curl up smaller to fit better. My heartbeat accelerates, sending warm tremors through my chest. His touch does to me, the opposite of what his ability does to me. I wish he knew what he does to me.
I feel him shift closer. What the hell is happening? Who is this and where's shitty-bastard Dazai?
Dazai’s Perspective
Dancing with Chuuya fills me with a feeling I don't recognise, but it burns, and I like it. The burn is different from the acid burn that the whiskey provided, it's slower and deeper, starting from the points where Chuuya touches me but then consuming me from the inside out. This burn isn't acid, it's a pure holy fire, like Chuuya himself. I'm sure I could manage without it, but why would I want to, it wouldn't really be living. I'm tired of this half-living I've been doing and I wish I'd realised sooner but now that I have this I know there's no chance I'm ever letting him go again.
It's difficult because Chuuya's just so small but I manoeuvre myself even closer, soaking up his fiery warmth and leaning in until the city noise disappears and his heartbeat and breathing are the only things I hear.
I can feel my shoulders tensing, waiting, wanting. Wanting him to lean down and kiss me. His fire gives me a nervous feeling and the heat is so distracting that I can't form the words.
Instead, I tilt my head up pathetically and hope he notices me for once.
Chuuya’s Perspective
I’m sure the Yokohama skyline is beautiful tonight but I can’t take my eyes off Dazai, I don’t really want to either. The wind picks up and ruffles his soft brown hair, giving me the irresistible urge to pull my finger through it. With how close we are it’s probably okay. Then he looks up.
I close my eyes.
I wish he didn’t. It makes me want to punch him sometimes (that’s usually why I do punch him), the way he flirts so shamelessly with everyone, no matter the gender, he just loves to flirt (and then break hopeful hearts), so much so that anyone could tell it’s an act, not even to mock them but just for his own amusement. Damn him! I usually would punch him right about now but I could never hurt him when he’s like this.
I open my eyes, accepting my fate, willing myself to resist.
His eyes are full of something deep and mysterious, yes, but it’s his lips that hold my attention. The way they’re slightly parted, if I didn’t know better I’d say he was doing this on purpose but I do know better and this oblivious idiot has no idea what he’s doing. If I didn’t know better I’d say the look in his eyes is want.
His lips look so soft, I’ve lost count of how many times I’ve dreamt of kissing them. And now he wants me to. I’m not sure. But I can’t stop myself.
I have to lean down to him for once as I press my lips to his. Immediately a tingling sensation hits me, scalding at first then pleasantly warm. And, oh. I was right, his lips are soft and warm.
Then panic shoots through me. I open my eyes to see Dazai's own eyes wide in surprise, I know the horror will come next. Have I just ruined everything? What should I say, how can I even explain this? The dread wells inside me, turning me to stone.
“I—” My throat is the first to go and the words die on my tongue.
And then he’s kissing me back.
It’s different now that he’s kissing me as well. His lips are still soft but more solid and forceful. This time he presses his body into mine until we’re held together so tightly it feels like we’re one now, instead of two.
The hardest thing about kissing Dazai is stopping, but at last, we do.
“Dazai . . .” There are no words that adequately describe the experience.
He sighs, “Please, use my given name.” I freeze, “Call me Osamu.”
“Osamu,” I whisper into the night, testing out the word. It feels right, leaving a pleasant sensation on my lips. The memory of where his own lips had just touched mine. Pulsing desire.
“You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do this,” I say to the night around us. It feels good to get the words out.
His smile is brighter than any of the lights around, “That goes for me as well.”
The music from the street below is still playing, but quieter now as if everything has faded out leaving only Osamu and I.
It’s so nice that we let the confessions and feelings hang in the air for a while as the sky slips from dark blue to black and the feelings get brighter . . . hotter.
It happens so easily, as if we’ve been doing this for years (we should have been), our lips are connected again pressing feverishly, hungrily against each other. Osamu’s hands are in my hair, pulling, but not so hard it hurts.
When we stop for breath I tug away the bandages covering Osamu’s neck and begin to explore.
——————————
We lay on the roof, the music long quieted, staring up at the full moon. The bandages on Osamu’s neck hang loosely like a necklace, both of our hair sticks up and Osamu is using my coat as a blanket against the nighttime chill.
—
When the moon finally begins to slip away I ask, “Are we going to talk about this?”
“About what?” Osamu asks. I look at him confused. He smiles, “We’ve been in love all this time, what will change now that the words have been said. It isn’t like we’ll be able to be affectionate at work.” He explains all this matter of factory then smirks, “After work on the other hand . . .” He lets the implications fill my mind. I shove my hat over his eyes.
“Perv!”
“You asked, I was just answering!” He laughs and takes off the hat holding up too high for me to reach. I don’t try to reach it, he puts it down over his face.
“You know that’s not what I meant! I just mean like kissing not . . .” I hope he can’t see my blush from this angle.
“I know, of course, teasing Chuuya is just so fun. But we can kiss as much as Chuuya wants.” I don’t miss how he uses my name instead of one of his many nicknames, and he said nothing would change. I don’t mention it.
The truth is we’ve been partners for so long hardly anything needs to be said.
And yet, I want to say it, to hear his answer.
It still feels kind of awkward, the words cumbersome as I try to phrase the question, “So . . . Boyfriends then?”
Osamu doesn’t answer right away, then sighs, “Boyfriends.” He says the word in a bored tone, a smile like gold lights his face, “I don’t want Chuuya to be my boyfriend, I love Chuuya so much more than a boyfriend. Boyfriend is such an impermanent word. There has to be a better one, no?”
His words make me feel cool inside, like how people say love makes them feel warm. Osamu’s love makes me feel cool and refreshed, like the relief when he uses his ability on me, a pleasant tingling sensation. Like Osamu’s own cold touch. It’s distracting and I can’t answer him.
Luckily he has an answer of his own. “Partners.” He says with finality.
“Partners.” I agree.
—
We don’t speak again until the sun appears on the horizon.
“I want you to promise me something, Chuuya.”
I look at him surprised by the suddenness of his request.
“I want to annoy you forever, so . . . promise you’ll remind me to live okay, for you.”
His words make me freeze. Dazai Osamu, the boy obsessed with death, wants to live. The cool feeling washes over me again.
He sits up and moves closer to me until we’re shoulder to shoulder with his hand our my waist. “I want to, I do but sometimes it’s hard. The darkness takes over and I forget everything I have to live for, when that happens, please remind me, okay Chuuya.” He looks at me like a lost puppy, tears brimming over, a little bit happy and a little bit sad, I think. “And I can’t promise that it will work, or that I’ll make it, but with you, I know I can at least try, and I will try, so hard, for you Chuuya, my beloved.”
“Okay, Osamu. I will.”
We seal the pact with a kiss and watch the sunrise together. It isn’t a bad way to spend a night, not bad at all. Now we enter the new day together, as partners.
So, first day of work was interesting, but not as crazy as I was worried it was going to be. Mostly today was just filling out paperwork and getting tours of the facilities. I can tell I’m going to love my coworkers, especially the office manager Pam (fake name). She’s this older lady who’s clearly been on the job for too long, and those are the absolute best coworkers. She cussed out one of the younger guys for hooking up with his ex because “If you don’t have the common sense to stay away from that bitch, don’t fucking whine about it to me.”
I was also given keys to about a dozen different doors and padlocks and I have no idea how I’m going to keep them all straight. Apparently every time they try and standardize the locks half of them go missing or get broken, so they just stopped trying awhile back.
Anyway, I’ll keep you updated as I get used to this new job, but I’m very excited after my first day.
Either no one told JRJ that Supergirl’s costume is not a crop top but is, in fact, a shirt, belt, and skirt, or, he is unfamiliar with how belts generally work, in that you cannot see abdominal muscles through them.
