Soukoku fic (Fifteen) (Dazai pov) (Band au)
tw: Sh, Dazai typical suicide attempts
3-5k words.
1st chapter
I’m dying.
I can’t feel my body, my vision is blurred, my legs are shaking, my breathing keeps breaking more and more. I think there are people around me, I don’t know, I can’t hear them, I can’t see them, I can’t feel them. Maybe it’s just my imagination, but what does it matter now? I try to lift my hand to feel if there’s something or someone, but it’s useless, I don’t even have the strength to do it.
I suppose at some point I must have passed out; it feels like I should shake myself awake just to understand what’s happening around me, what’s happening to me, but my body won’t help. I can’t do it. I’m going to die.
…
Ten months earlier:
It was cold, I had water all around me; feeling those things assured me I hadn’t fainted. I was still conscious, which is horrible; sometimes it’s better to simply stop feeling, stop thinking.
My typical suicide attempts had already tired the Agency and my so-called “father”, who had even hired security to prevent me from carrying out my promise.
After a short while, the numbing cold disappeared from my body and I felt hands pulling me to the surface.
I couldn’t tell if my body was just very light or if he was incredibly strong. But when I came back to reality, my body was already on the floor.
I couldn’t help but start coughing; the water in my lungs was beginning to feel uncomfortable.
“In five minutes we need to go back to the Agency; your father wants to talk to you.”
Great.
They couldn’t even give me a second to breathe, but it didn’t matter, it never mattered…
I ignored the comment, which I think annoyed him; I could see his look of disdain. I was used to it.
I remember, as a child, begging some higher god to end this misery, but of course, how was I supposed to beg someone or something that doesn’t exist?
———————————————
If it hadn’t been for my “bodyguard”, I wouldn’t have gone to see my father at all; it was tedious and exhausting. Talking to him stole years of my life.
But here I was, in front of the massive door to his office, tapping lightly and waiting for him to give me permission to enter.
There was an overwhelming silence before he said, “Come in.”
I walked in. There he was, sitting, fingers intertwined and resting on them. I didn’t speak; I waited for him to do it first.
“Osamu, how have you been?” He probably already knew about the suicide attempt minutes before I arrived. Not only was I drenched in freezing water, but they had already told him. “I have something to tell you.”
“Get to the point.”
I saw a small, twisted, barely noticeable smile form at the corner of his mouth.
“Lately you’ve become lazier. We let you be a soloist in this music world because of your constant complaints about your teammates. We let it slide because for some reason your mediocre voice is adored by your little fangirls, but you haven’t released an album in six months. Have you even started writing it?” He paused to let me answer. I didn’t. “No, you didn’t even start. Great. Well, since you’ve become so useless, I considered kicking you out of the company, but I can’t. So, to annoy you, I found the perfect partner for you; although there’s one problem, you’ll have to convince him.”
I stared at him for a few moments; he was serious. I turned around and headed toward the door.
“I’m not recruiting someone who’s probably more mediocre than I am.”
Mori stayed silent until I opened the door.
“If you do, I’ll fire the bodyguards.”
“….”
…….
Shit.
Suddenly I was in the middle of a crowd of people my age. The oldest couldn’t have been more than two years older than me. It was one of those typical places where teenagers gathered to hang out; some kind of arcade.
Mori hadn’t given me any information about the boy I needed to recruit. His exact words were, “You’ll know the moment you see him. Chuuya, that’s his name.”
I always hated when he said things like that. How was I supposed to know who he was? Was I supposed to shout his name until someone turned around? Was he dressed like a clown or something? Still, he was never wrong, and as much as I hated admitting it, he was right.
And how could he not be? Just when I was about to leave (I was never a fan of crowds), I noticed a redhead, a bit short if you asked me, wearing a leather jacket and a half ponytail, “arguing” with another boy. They seemed close. And since interrupting was my specialty, I went up to them.
“Hi,” I greeted, trying to sound polite. “Excuse me… but are you Chuuya by any chance?” I asked, fixing my eyes on him.
He looked confused when he answered; he looked me up and down.
“Uh, yeah, why?”
Bingo.
“Great. Let me introduce myself, I’m Osamu Dazai, call me Dazai, not by my full name. Well, I’m a singer; in case you didn’t know, I’m part of Mori’s company, a music industry. One of the most famous, by the way.”
If Mori had taught me anything, it was that no one would join unless they knew the place was advantageous and would take them to the top, so exaggeration was necessary. “Mori, the one who runs this company, has heard of you and wants you to join a band with me, of course.”
I didn’t understand the expression on Chuuya’s face, but before he could open his mouth, a girl with pink dyed hair spoke faster.
“Dazai Osamu?” she asked, clearly excited. The boy next to her elbowed her and she cleared her throat. “Whoever you are… I’m sorry, but Chuuya already has a band, our band.”
I smiled without my eyes; my gaze never left the kid’s blue eyes.
“Chuuya, what’s your decision?”
I noticed the little frown forming on his forehead.
“Are you stupid?” I didn’t expect that. “Didn’t you hear her? I already have a group. Besides…” His eyes ran over my whole body; I felt naked under that stare. “Who even are you? Girls have been staring at you from behind for a while now. Am I supposed to assume you’re famous or something?”
… Well, after all, I was better known for having fangirls.
“And even if you are…” he continued, “I wouldn’t join even if you paid me. You look like a psychopath.”
Oh? That was new.
“For your information, darling, this face you’ve described as ‘a psychopath’s’ has been on many magazines… and I’ve been listed as one of the most handsome men in all of Japan. Looks like you have terrible taste.”
“Or maybe this so-called ‘Mori’ paid the magazines; after all, he sounds like someone who’d do that.”
“Pff. Do you really think he’d waste his time and dedication on that? No, he wouldn’t. But you know what he *would* do? Buy your entire band and you in a matter of seconds. I mean, right now you’re worthless. You’re just a group of teenagers who think they can make music when you can barely keep the band together.”
“What do you know about us?” Now the gray-haired boy, a bit taller than the redhead, spoke up. “You act like you know everything, but you don’t even know the name of the band…”
“Uh? Is that supposed to matter? … but, since I’m such a kind and wonderful person,” I lifted a finger, “I’ll give you a chance. What’s it called?”
“Sheep.”
… I stayed silent for a few seconds, thinking I misheard. “Sheep”… wasn’t that… “oveja”?
I couldn’t stop myself from laughing; it was so funny, I had never heard a worse name. I even had to hold my stomach; I felt like I was going to fall from laughing so hard.
I heard some yelling; probably aimed at me. Chuuya’s “friends”, no doubt. But I couldn’t stop looking into his eyes; he was glaring at me with pure hatred.
I smiled; maybe it was noticeable, maybe not. It didn’t matter.
I enjoyed seeing spoiled kids angry because of me.
Ignoring the others beside me, I handed a business card to the orange-haired boy.
“If you change your mind, come find me.”
Without letting him speak or even look at me, I turned around with my usual air of superiority, just to annoy him a bit more, and went back to the Agency.
When I arrived, someone was already waiting for me, someone I wish hadn’t been there.
“So? How did it go?”
He asked. I bit my lip and kept walking, ignoring him. Passing by him without even looking at him made me feel strange, uncomfortable. Still, I had the urge to run as fast as possible. How strange it was… passing by someone you’d always been close to… someone who’d been there during your worst moments, talking to you, looking at you, living inside every thought you had.
“…Not saying hi anymore? But we’re such good friends.”
I was about to walk past him, that was obvious. I’m not the type to stay in uncomfortable situations for someone else’s sake. But as I was about to leave, I felt him grab my arm. A shiver ran down my spine.
“Oda.” I spoke; miraculously the words came out more firmly than I expected.
He seemed to understand, because his grip loosened and he let go.
I stood there for a few seconds before leaving. I glanced at him from the corner of my eye. Was that his face? I remembered it differently; it used to look happy, more alive.
I headed to the office; it wasn’t a nice place, even though it had some of the best decorations. Every time I entered I felt a cold air hit my face.
I knocked, waiting. I couldn’t go in without his permission. It wasn’t something I wanted.
He didn’t take long to allow me in.
I entered. He was with Elise, trying dresses on her. I never understood his “taste” in children; it disgusted me. I remember that as soon as I turned fourteen (one year before now), he replaced me with Elise.
He was happy.
I am.
“How did it go?”
I tilted my head before answering. My face hadn’t shown any expression, but I felt a shiver when I heard those words. It reminded me of him, of what had just happened.
I wondered if Mori noticed.
“Meh. The kid’s unbearable, he has this superiority complex and talks like he rules the world. Do you really think someone like him would be useful for a company like this?”
“Mm…” He fell silent, thinking for a few seconds, then gave me a small smile. “Didn’t you hear him sing?”
“Huh? How was I supposed to hear him? It was an arcade, not a stadium.”
“You know… they usually do street concerts in that arcade; when it closes, they rent it.”
I looked at him from the corner of my eye and left; I wasn’t in the mood to talk to him or listen to him.
I left Mori’s office with a suffocating feeling. I couldn’t get what happened with Odasaku out of my head. As soon as I stepped outside, the freezing wind slapped me in the face, as if punishing me, reminding me how soaked I still was after my failed attempt to end everything. But the cold was the least of my problems. What really burned me from the inside was that damn encounter with Chuuya.
When I got to my apartment, I let my wet coat fall wherever and threw myself onto the bed without even thinking about changing. I closed my eyes, but the images from the arcade kept replaying over and over again: Chuuya’s defiant face, his voice dripping with disdain. There was something about him that tormented me, something I couldn’t let go of, something that pushed me to want to see him again, even if just to feel that frustration, to confirm he was just as lost as I was.
I woke up with the first light of day, feeling trapped, like I couldn’t breathe. It didn’t make sense, but I needed to do something. I decided I’d go back to the arcade that night, once it closed. Mori had implied it, and even if I often got away with ignoring him, I knew this time wouldn’t be like that.
If Chuuya did those street concerts, I had to see him. I needed to.
Night came, and I dragged myself to the arcade, my mask of indifference barely holding together. From outside, the music seeped through the walls, hitting me in the chest. I stood still, listening. The voice inside was fierce, carrying something I couldn’t ignore. A shiver ran through me.
I walked in quietly, unnoticed, and there he was. Chuuya, at the center of it all, pouring himself into every word, every note. His voice, stronger and more raw than I ever imagined, held something that broke me inside. It was like all his pain, all his anger, was made of the same desperation I’d been dragging around. And I couldn’t stop listening.
*He seemed impressed by the way you came in*
“Tell us a story, I know you’re not boring”
*I was afraid that you would not insist*
“You sound so sleepy, just take this, now leave me”
*I said, please don’t slow me down if I’m going too fast*
*You’re in a strange part of our town*
Yeah, the night’s not over, you’re not trying hard enough
Our lives are changing lanes, you ran me off the road
The wait is over, I’m now taking over
You’re no longer laughing, I’m not drowning fast enough
Now every time that I look at myself “I thought I told you, this world is not for you”
The room is on fire as she’s fixing her hair
“You sound so angry, just calm down, you found me”
I said please don’t slow me down if I’m going too fast
You’re in a strange part of our town
Yeah, the night’s not over, you’re not trying hard enough
Our lives are changing lanes, you ran me off the road
The wait is over, I’m now taking over
You’re no longer laughing, I’m not drowning fast enough
Lyrics are never the important part in songs, it’s the voice. His voice and how it echoed against the walls, how his tone shifted after each verse, the way you could hear him forcing his voice, trying to hit every note without a single mistake, and how every time he stopped singing to let the instruments play, he bit his lip, anxious, waiting for his part to come back. That, that was what mattered.
After listening to the concert, I waited patiently. I kept myself in the shadows until Chuuya finished his last song. There was something in his voice I couldn’t ignore.
When I finally saw him alone, I approached slowly.
“That voice… I didn’t expect it from someone so small.” I let the words slip out with a light smile, knowing it would irritate him.
Chuuya turned toward me, his eyes filled with disdain. I guess he wasn’t happy to see me again.
“You again? What makes you think I want to hear your nonsense?” he said, his voice dripping with sarcasm.
I smiled again, more out of amusement than anything else. It wasn’t hard to provoke him, but I wasn’t here just for that.
“Oh, I’m not here to convince you of anything…” I replied, pretending indifference. “I was simply enjoying the show. I was surprised by what I saw; for a moment I thought that maybe, just maybe, you could be something more than a simple teenager playing in an arcade. Maybe you actually have some talent after all…”
I watched his frown deepen. I’d hit him where it hurt most. I knew his insecurities were right there, ready to be exploited. And I was delighted to do it.
After all, his personality was obvious from afar. His clothes, his hair and his voice spoke for him.
“And what do you know?” he shot back, his voice tense. “You’re nothing but an arrogant guy with too much unearned fame. I make music because it matters to me, not for money or fans.”
I looked at him, this time with more interest. His passion was undeniable, and that fascinated me.
“I know, and that’s what intrigues me about you,” I answered, letting my tone soften a little. “You don’t care about the superficial. But how long are you going to keep playing at being the leader of a band with no future? I’ve seen what you can do. You have talent, Chuuya, but here you are, playing in an arcade. Do you really think you deserve that?”
Silence.
But I knew my words were getting to him. The tension in his shoulders, the way he clenched his fists… I didn’t need him to answer to know I had struck exactly where I wanted.
“Mori isn’t an idiot,” I continued, though sometimes I thought otherwise, keeping my eyes on him. “He sees the same thing I do. He knows you have potential you haven’t explored. With him, you could go much farther. I’m not asking you to change who you are. Just to think about whether you want to keep being another sheep, or if you’d rather be something much bigger. After all… sheep are nothing but prey.”
His gaze hardened; the hatred in his eyes was obvious… but at the same time, in those eyes full of anger, I could see something else… hesitation.
He still didn’t say anything, but the silence spoke for him. I stepped closer and pulled out an Agency card, offering it to him calmly.
“When you decide you’re ready to stop being the one who gets hunted, call me. I won’t promise it’ll be easy, but I promise it’ll be better than this.”
I turned around before he could say anything else. I knew my words had left a mark. He didn’t need to admit it right then. It was only a matter of time.
I walked out of the arcade, letting the weight of my words fall on him. Chuuya didn’t know it yet, but his decision had already been made. And soon he would be exactly where I wanted him to be.
Walking through the empty, dark streets, the echo of his voice lingered in my mind. It was clear he had a lot to improve; sometimes he pushed his voice too much, which could damage it, and his high notes… left much to be desired. But despite everything, what stood out the most was the rage and passion he sang with, something I had lost a long time ago, if I had ever had it at all.
Suddenly, Odasaku’s image invaded my mind without permission. I couldn’t help it. Every time I got close to someone, every time I involved another person in my chaos, his face appeared as a warning. I didn’t want to see him, hear him, feel him, let alone touch him. I wanted him to disappear.
A sharp pain shot through my arm; it itched, it tormented me. No matter how much I scratched it, the pain wouldn’t go away. All I could do was dig my nails into my skin until it turned red, holding on until I reached my apartment.
When I arrived, silence welcomed me, as always, along with the cold night air. I didn’t think of it as a home; I didn’t deserve warmth. With every step, the pain grew more intense. I had to get it out. I had to get rid of it, I had to do something.
I tore off the bandages on my arm. The old cuts were still healing; some scabs had formed. Was that what was itching? I ripped each one off, making my arm start to bleed, but the itching stayed, growing stronger and stronger. Every drop of blood only made the sensation worse.
With effort, I took the box cutter I kept in the drawer and began to “draw” on my arm. As the cut grew deeper, the itching disappeared.
I had to stop when I saw my arm shaking. After all, if something trembles it’s because it hurts, right?
I tossed the box cutter aside without care. I ended up staining the wooden floor with my blood, soaking the place with its smell. I was used to it, I didn’t dislike it. I lay down on the bed, letting myself bleed and staining the white sheets. I wasn’t going to die; the cuts hadn’t been deep enough. I simply closed my eyes.
It burned, it burned too much; a pain this intense was the only thing that managed to remind me that I was alive.
The blood slid down my arm like tiny rivers, tracing their paths over my pale skin.
Despite the chaos in my body, in some ironic way I felt calm. Physical suffering was, somehow, easier to bear than the weight of my own existence.
The cold and the pain wrapped around me with a kind of tenderness I had never felt before. I was alone, but the blood warmed me as if someone were holding me, and the cold reminded me of reality.
My ears were still ringing from the loud music at the “concert”; even so, I could hear my heart, beating a thousand times per minute.
The images of the night kept replaying in my head, Chuuya and his defiant stare, the rage in his voice and… Odasaku had always been Odasaku.
Almost every night I asked myself why I was still here, why I was torturing only myself. He gave me peace, and now he’s the same or worse than Mori.
I also wondered about many things.
Why hadn’t I ended everything once and for all?
Why did I keep clinging to this miserable life, full of wrong decisions and wasted chances? Every attempt, every single one had failed, and each day seemed more absurd than the last. Mori kept controlling everything, no matter what I did.
Mori’s words echoed in my head. “Chuuya has potential.” No. They didn’t torment me; I was more afraid of what they represented. Chuuya, young, full of life and with a fury that pushed him to stand out among the rest.
I didn’t care about that boy’s career, but he has what I was not born with. Passion.
I opened my eyes abruptly, my ragged breathing, as usual, filling the room. I forced myself to stand even though I could barely breathe; I wanted to remember why I was still alive.
I walked to the bathroom mirror.
My mirror… My mirror reflected someone I barely recognized.
My face, marked by lack of sleep, my dark circles and my pale skin.
I was tired, exhausted from everything. And yet, I was still breathing, walking, surviving.
A bitter laugh escaped from my dry, cracked lips.
All of this was pathetic; I was waiting for a miracle to change my life, and it wasn’t going to happen.
I glanced at my arm: the blood had started to dry, but the feeling of emptiness was still there. Bigger than ever.
I stepped out of the bathroom and looked at the box cutter again. A single cut, a very deep and precise one, and all this suffering would end… But I didn’t even have the strength to finish it. I was a coward. A coward who can’t do something as simple as dying. A coward who lives in misery and will perish in—
I let myself fall once more onto the bed, staring at the ceiling and feeling that familiar pressure in my chest.
I wouldn’t be able to sleep tonight. I never did. The nightmares were always there. Oda, who tormented me, or old memories of Mori.
Everything blended together in my mind, creating a chaos I couldn’t escape from.
And at the center of that chaos was me. Alone.
