soukoku piece i have been working on as a vent
content warnings: mentions of alcohol, suicidal thoughts, and emotions in general
reader gets to decide the type of relationship. because op is a little shit and left things rather ambiguous! hope you like it ~
(Filed under the cut for length)
Nakahara Chuuya
• Doesn't mind if his partner is timid or boisterous. Seeing as he has worked with both kinds before he doesn't see a problem with using this experience with potential partners.
• Very patient. Willing to take time out of his day to listen to you if and when you have things you would like to discuss.
• A good listener but disastrous at supplying advice that does not have a very violent undertone.
"Ah well, I can show them what it's like to be in pain if you'd like?"
"I think I can do that all on my own, it's appreciated though."
• Genuinely intrigued by your interests whether they align with his or not. Very supportive of your hobbies.
"You collect these?"
"Yeah, it's a bit embarrassing.."
"Oh no, they're cute. Do what makes you happy. It never matters what other people think."
• Acts as a caretaker whenever you think you may need one. Allowing you to delve into whatever vice that helps to keep the thoughts away. Several times he has allowed you to raid his wine cellar and cry on his shoulder.
• Keeps tabs on physical, verbal, and emotional barriers. Your gloves that almost match his own do not go unnoticed. The way you flinch before, during, and after a colleague touches you in a friendly manner is one of the first things he picked up on. And so, he refrains from touching you at all unless it is entirely necessary.
"I'm not weak." You murmur after an evening of his eyes constantly examining you.
"Never said you were."
• Seemingly out of nowhere he will gift you things that he thinks you will enjoy. Ranging from expensive bracelets, necklaces, gloves, and flowers. His only excuse being 'They reminded me of you. How could I not get it for you?' A sly smile playing at his lips.
"Am I allowed to do the same?"
"Give me things? I'd rather you didn't but I suppose I cannot stop you."
Osamu Dazai
• A bit of a hypocrite. Though suicide-crazed he will drop everything if you so much as mention the topic. He can joke around with you about it but can always tell when you using it as a coping mechanism instead of fun.
• Being experienced in his antics of a 'refreshing and painless' suicide he will go into full detail about techniques with you. Gauging reactions based off your body language is easy enough. Having been in the mafia and now the dectective agency has taught him everything he needs to know.
"Are you going to commit a sweet death with me today, lover?"
"I'll get back to you on it."
• Depression, anxiety, stress, and everything few and far between are all things Dazai has managed with for quite a while. And so when it all gets too much he will whisks you away from boring paperwork to try and cheer you up. Revealing that he was stolen money from Kunikida's wallet to buy you takoyaki and then red bean taiyaki make you laugh. And your laughter warms his heart even while you reprimand him breathlessly.
"I think it's funny how people say, 'you know you can talk to me right?' It truly makes the other person feel like a burden. Shouldn't it be natural."
Even if it's meant to be a question you have known Dazai long enough to know that it a statement. A rhetorical question if anything.
"That's what you are saying though. Dazai, I know. But we both know it is always much easier said than done."
"As long as you know, darling."
"I trust you to know the same, Osamu."
• Before meeting Dazai you were not aware how ridiculous the feeling of bandages rubbing against your face would feel. Especially after they have been wet with tears.
"Do you feel better, love?"
You huff while sniffling then managing a dry laugh through your stuttering ribcage.
"You know I don't."
"And you know what I mean."
".. A little but I feel worse as well."
"That's how these things go I'm afraid."
You also find that you don't mind when his bandaged fingers sift through your hand. They lull you to sleep at times which is something your body is always craving aside from the warmth from another human being.
• Afternoons that slowly meld into nights and early mornings lying on Dazai's chest become more and more frequent. You navigate yourself around his messy apartment. Clothes, broken glass, suicide pamphlets, prose, and poetry strewn left and right. In due time you have several sets of clothes to change into on his dresser. A toothbrush in his stainless steel cup that he keeps on his sink. And a collection of socks decorated with kittens that he has gifted to you.
• With your permission while he lies on his back, head hanging off the bed, he will recite poetry. It brings a small smile to your face when he stutters and clears his throat repeatedly while reading the more romantic works.
Slowly his apartment is cleaned up by you. Glass is swept up and properly disposed of. Books are tucked away in his bedside drawers. Clothes are cleaned then stuffed away because folding clothes helps neither of you. The refrigerator is stocked with fresh fruit and vegetables just in case either of you would like to cook.
• Eating with Dazai is, in one word, engaging. You have never minded but to this day it amuses you to see a man play with his food the way he does.
"Look it's drowning. Oh no, save him!"
"Mm, maybe he wants to join our club huh?"
"Oh! You're right, how careless of me."
And so you watch inquisitively, as you hold your head in your palms, while Dazai tries to revive a grain of rice dipped in green tea.
• Walks in the evening while the warmth of the atmosphere Dazai sets around you feels almost euphoric. Reluctantly you will accept his trenchcoat as the wind whips violently against your body. It smells like him which happens to make you feel rather happy. Though you feel a little bad as the back end does drag along the floor despite your best intentions of holding the fabric between your fingers.
• Dazai is not too fond of tea or water. But will give in if you hold your own dehydration over his head. With a very evidentiary petulance in his actions the bottle is gulped down in a matter of seconds.
"Thank you darling."
"Oh, of course. Anything for you, my sweet." The menace in his voice dripping hot and fast like fresh blood on a blade.