Do you know what I'm seeing?
[+] Happy soukoku week everyone! This is for the { Day 1 prompt: fifteen }
[+] Huge thanks to looking-for-stray-dogs for the translated summary of fifteen.
Aside from the supernatural ability that resurfaced during The Gifted’s young age, a second ability is discovered. An ability that isn’t for combat or defense or anything that is deemed violent. It’s practically useless ─ an extra ability that one can live without.
He pants slowly, as he’s been thrown to a building by an unavoidable force. He tries to move his limbs, feeling his tensed and aching muscles. The ground is rough beneathe his body, and Mori-san should really compensate with this by teaching him to correctly mix the perfect poison to kill him painlessly. “That hurts.” He mutters.
“I’ll give you a choice, brat.” A voice calls out to him, “Die now or die later after spitting out information.”
When he opens his eyes, he meets striking blue eyes and the most beautiful face he has ever seen. In front of him is a (short) man seemingly the same age as him, in a red biker’s suit and russet hair that glows even more beneath the moonlight. There’s the glare in his eyes, pointed specifically at him ─ balancing his soft features. Unarmed but undoubtedly able to crash his opponents to bits, he feels a tug inside him.
The boy steps on his fist, bones breaking at the action.
Dazai raises his hand, gazing at his crushed fist.
He doesn’t panic, as he silently brings his right hand closer to his face. He observes his pinky finger, red string circled around it, glowing and tight around its place.
At age fifteen he’s discovered this second ability, an ability to see people’s red strings of fate and where it connects to. It was annoying at first, suffering through seeing people act complete idiots in finding that ew, love, when their soulmates are just right beside them. It’s completely unnecessary, moreso that Dazai has an actual soulmate, a reminder that ties to him the rest of the world, the humans.
It’s still annoying even now, especially when his soulmate is pathetically short.
The end of his string connects to the pinky finger of the…leader of the sheep? He guesses. It’s difficult to imagine he’ll actually fall in love with this man ─ but one look at his eyes again makes his heart skip a beat. It’s not something he’ll understand immediately (not yet at least) but he thinks this is fine, it’s tolerable as of the moment.
“Yes, I have information.” A beat. “You should really drink more milk so you’ll grow.”
The boy delivers a kick to his torso.
“None of your business!” He shouts. “I’m fifteen, and I’ll grow from now!”
“Then I’ll curse you. I’m fifteen too and I’ll grow from now, but you won’t grow much.”
They continue their banter like the children they are, unaware of the things that lie ahead. And Dazai doesn’t know yet, but he’ll treasure this fleeting moment forever.
(At sixteen, he’ll discover what love really is. What having a soulmate really means. And he thinks to himself, a future with Chuuya doesn’t seem so bad.)
(At eighteen, he’ll turn traitor to the organization he’s joined since fifteen, leaving everything behind but the string that still clings tight to the both of them. It may tangle and twist and stretch, but never will it break.)
(At twenty-two, he’ll find himself coming home to Chuuya once again.)
He slams his leg against the brunet’s torso, as he seems to be someone from the Port Mafia. The boy flies until he crashes into a building, letting out a groan of pain of pain and a mumble of words that sounds like something along the lines of that hurts.
“I’ll give you a choice, brat.” He calls out to him, “Die now or die later after spitting out information.” Chuuya steps on the brunet’s injured fist, grinning to himself when he groans again.
And it’s probably in that moment when the mafioso opens his eyes ─ meeting hazel ones ─ when his mind and heart burn at the sudden assault of memories and emotion he doesn’t quite understand.
“Don’t sleep, please.” Dazai looks at him with an uncharacteristic desperation,
“Please, Chuuya, don’t sleep.”
Chuuya touches his cheek gently, wiping at the tears forming in the corners of the brunet’s eyes. He feels himself getting weaker and weaker every second, blood quickly dripping his mouth and wounds. Dazai clings to him as if he’ll lose him any moment ─ which is absolutely his situation right now ─ leaning and kissing his lips over and over despite the taste of blood.
“I’ll find you in my next life.”
Chuuya goes back to his consciousness, remembering every single detail of his previous life in a matter of seconds. He doesn’t panic, as he looks at Dazai once again, taking in the features of the man who was his everything from back then.
At age fifteen he’s discovered this second ability, an ability to see his relationship with people in his previous life, once he meet their eyes. It’s annoying how his mind hurts everytime he looks at someone he knew in his past life, but also quite painful. He still feels himself long for the Chuuya that he isn’t anymore, heart clenching at the smallest of memories.
It’s still annoying even now, especially when the person he loved is pathetically weak.
“Yes, I have information.” A beat. “You should really drink more milk so you’ll grow.”
Chuuya delivers a kick to his torso.
“None of your business!” He shouts. “I’m fifteen, and I’ll grow from now!”
“Then I’ll curse you. I’m fifteen too and I’ll grow from now, but you won’t grow much.”
They continue their banter like the children they are, unaware of the things that lie ahead. And Chuuya doesn’t know yet, but he’ll treasure this fleeting moment forever.
“So I’m going to fall in love with this person, huh?”
