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Post by Behax on Apr 14, 2020 0:05:13 GMT
Chuuya nodded as Dazai told him where to go, climbing the stairs perhaps a little too cautiously for his own home, almost as if he was afraid of what he might find. As he made it to the top of the spiral stairs he let his eyes travel over the large open room at the top. The rich though not gaudy decor continued. It was undeniable that he was obviously a person that had money.
There were a couple of doors off to the side. One appeared to be a closet, the next one was the bathroom. A large sink and vanity with a wall length mirror ran along one side. The shower was large as was the bath. He closed the door behind himself, though he didn't lock it. Turned on the shower, stripped and then stepped under the stream.
The hot water felt oddly liberating and he just stood under it for a while. Eventually he did investigate the shower for a sponge or cloth to wash himself with and some shower gel.
It was while he was washing that he discovered a scar on his lower abdomen. He ran his fingers over it. He couldn’t help but feel a deep sadness over it, though he couldn’t understand why, couldn’t understand what the scar meant to him. He found others while he was washing himself, not many, but they were there. None of them made him feel the way the one on his abdomen made him feel.
It was maybe a good 30 or 40 minutes before Chuuya could be heard leaving the shower and walking across the bedroom on the upper floor, though his footsteps were as quiet as ever. Dazai likely would only hear it because he knew what to listen for.
He opened what looked like it might be the wardrobe, his eyes going wide. He hadn’t expected a large walk in, and he doubted there was any nightwear in there. He closed it, and opted to go through some dressers instead. He eventually did find what he was looking for, and descended the stairs in a pair of pj bottoms and a baggy plain t-shirt. (Though even this Dazai could assume was not cheap, just by the quality of the fabric alone.)
He fortunately hadn’t found any of his hidden or stowed weapon caches for now, so Dazai at least avoided being asked those questions for now.
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Post by quinnlocke on Apr 14, 2020 12:11:18 GMT
Dazai ordered a bit of everything from the menu, knowing full well Chuuya's appetite, especially after corruption. The energy drain alone was what kept him bed ridden the longest. Some food in him, the kind he enjoyed, might very well help the process along.
He discovered a throwing knife stashed under the hood of the stove and decided it could stay. At least he knew where *one* weapon was kept.
There was no doubt at least three others. Plus a bug out bag. Chuuya had no illusions of the kind of life he lived. His ability was only so much of a deterrent. Dazai sighed, this was probably the safest place for either of them.
He walked out of the kitchen to the main room proper when he heard Chuuya padding down the stairs. His breath caught in his throat and he made a strangled sound.
Chuuya was wearing pajamas. Chuuya was wearing *Dazai's* pajamas. The baggy shirt hung off one shoulder and the pants bunched up at his feet.
They'd been a gift from Chuuya and now he was seeing 'not' Chuuya wearing them. It was wrong. It was heartbreaking.
It was also unfairly sexy and Dazai cursed his mind for being disinterested in any and all physical intimacy, unless Chuuya was involved. Then it practically took over half the time.
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Post by Behax on Apr 14, 2020 12:39:34 GMT
Chuuya looked up at the noise Dazai made.
“Is this….Not right?” Sure the clothes were a little too big on him, but they had been in his draws, in his room, in what was apparently his home? They should be his right? However Dazai hadn’t quite reigned in his expression quick enough, and Chuuya could tell something was hurting the man. Were they really so close that the man should be hurting this much?
Chuuya looked down. Part of him starting to feel like he’d failed in some way. He’d seen a similar kind of sadness in Kouyou, but Dazai’s was different somehow.
While they waited for the food to arrive, Chuuya decided it might be a good idea to re-familiarise himself with his apartment. Going back over the photos on the mantelpiece, and the ones scattered around a bookshelf. It didn’t take him long to realise that there was only that one photo of himself and Dazai. If they were really close shouldn’t there be more?
Wearing such a loose shirt Dazai would have noticed the serial number stamped on Chuuya’s back at the base of his neck. The redhead hadn’t asked about it so it was safe to assume he hadn’t noticed it was there yet. Though he was unlikely too until he caught a reflection of it in a mirror.
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Post by quinnlocke on Apr 14, 2020 16:56:13 GMT
Dazai wasn't sure if he should tell Chuuya about the serial numbers, or just talk him into wearing his choker so that he wouldn't see them. Neither seemed like a good idea.
Why was he the one doing this? He wasn't cut out to be someone to take care of Chuuya. He's the one who fucked up.
Well, that's a good enough reason as any to be the one to fix it. Fix what he did. When Chuuya was Chuuya again he'd walk away. He'd leave and never get involved again.
"This would pair really well with a burgundy," Chuuya said, slipping a piece of rare meat into his mouth.
Dazai dropped his fork in shock
"What did you say?"
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Post by Behax on Apr 14, 2020 18:31:53 GMT
When the food had arrived, Dazai had assured him that he would enjoy it, and also that he could in fact stomach such a large amount. Well whatever he didn’t eat now could be eaten later he supposed.
He blinked when Dazai dropped his fork and asked him to repeat himself.
“I said it would pair really well with a burgundy?” He repeated a little uncertain, the gravity of his words not really sinking in. The fact that it offered some glimmer of hope that his memory wasn’t all gone for good.
Dazai had been right though, everything he’d ordered tasted fantastic, and he was clearly enjoying the meal. He ate more of it than he would have thought possible, but there was some left over by the end.
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Post by quinnlocke on Apr 14, 2020 20:12:46 GMT
It was the first sign that Chuuya was still there. That there was still some lingering memories there, just waiting for the right things to bring them out.
Yosano had expressly forbidden alcohol for another week. Citing it would do more harm than good. So Dazai decided to make a mental list of what he could introduce Chuuya to in order to bring things to the surface.
While Chuuya explored his bookcases Dazai took a shower himself. He avoided looking at the bathtub, the last time he'd been in it was less than a week ago. Chuuya had nearly throttled him for putting three bath bombs in, turning the water to an aqua sludge with glitter. They'd had makeup sex in the shower trying to scrub it all off.
They'd never talked about Dazai's drawer in Chuuya's dresser. That would mean acknowledging Dazai had a semi permanent presence. Still, whenever he came back around things of his were still there. Spare clothes, mismatched pajamas, a toothbrush.
He carefully opened the lid of Chuuya's armoire. He didn't wear them often, but Chuuya had a collection of jewelry he'd carefully put together. Never one to buy a piece unless he could visualize the outfit he would wear it with.
There in the collection of rings, bracelets, watches, and necklaces were four chokers. Identical down to the silver of their buckles.
He brought it with him downstairs and approached Chuuya carefully.
"You don't look the same when you don't have one of these on," he said.
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Post by Behax on Apr 14, 2020 22:32:44 GMT
Chuuya went back to nosing through the bookcase after they’d eaten. He’d been hoping to find more pictures, but as sentimental as Chuuya could be, the only pictures he had were the ones already on display. Though there were also a few in his bed room, but he would explore that properly at another time.
He decided instead to pull out some books. He’d open them, flick through them, and then put them back. Nothing particularly jumped out until he opened one that was in french and to his surprise discovered that he could read it.
He was still standing there reading some french poetry when Dazai came back downstairs. He nearly jumped when Dazai came up to him. Dazai would have only been able to sneak up on Chuuya in specific circumstances before now.
“Oh...Osamu…?” He looked at what Dazai was holding in his hand.
His hand unconsciously went to his neck.
"You don't look the same when you don't have one of these on."
Somehow that hurt for him to hear. Like he was failing at being himself, as if he was supposed to be living up to some image he didn’t even remember. Still he took the item from Dazai, and fastened it around his own neck. The feel of it felt familiar at least.
“Is that better?”
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Post by quinnlocke on Apr 14, 2020 22:43:04 GMT
Ah, he'd messed up. Chuuya was never good at hiding his emotions. Dazai could see the hurt and chided himself for having stated it that way.
He rubbed the back of his neck.
"I didn't meant that, it was...," He sighed. "It's familiar, it's you. For as long as I've known you, that has been the one constant."
He dropped onto the couch and pulled his legs up.
"I'm just trying to figure out how to help. I feel like I might just be doing it all wrong."
Somehow, he was able to be open. Maybe it was that this Chuuya wouldn't look for the manipulation behind his words. And for once there wasn't any. What could he hope to gain?
He looked over at the book Chuuya was holding. "tu comprends toujours le français?"
(You still understand french?)
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Post by Behax on Apr 14, 2020 22:55:21 GMT
Chuuya might have been bad at hiding his emotions before, but now he wasn’t even trying. Why would he? He had no reason to think he needed to after all. He was the most unguarded Dazai would have ever known him. Even when they’d had sex, they both still managed to keep a little of their guard in tact. Now Chuuya had no reason to be constantly on the defensive.
He could see that Dazai meant what he said. “Thank you…..for trying…..For what it's worth….I’m not sure there is a ‘right’ way to do this either….” He realised it must be hard for Dazai, to spend time with someone who didn’t even remember him, or even themselves.
He looked up when Dazai spoke to him in french and found that he understood every word, though he had to think a little harder than Chuuya normally would have to answer in the same language.
“Oui, c'était aussi une surprise pour moi.”
(Yes, it was a surprise for me too.)
He gave a weak smile.
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Post by quinnlocke on Apr 14, 2020 23:07:18 GMT
Dazai couldn't help but smile back.
His French was dismal, but he did his best to converse with Chuuya in it for a bit. Enough to prove just how terrible he was.
"I'll have you know I speak fluent Russian and English!" He defended himself. "Both of which are just as hard as French. It's not my fault they insist on having so many vowels."
Chuuya laughed, genuinely laughed. They sat on the couch together, legs folded underneath them. Dazai had made tea, a tradition he knew Chuuya had with Kouyou, and procured a box of sugar cookies from Chuuya's secret stash.
He did his best to answer some questions without revealing too much of their sordid past. He told Chuuya about their rivalry. Constant bets, being kicked out of arcades for starting fist fights with each other.
"You like rock music, you smoke these fancy cigarettes that have sugar in the filters (and I've tasted it on your lips), and we've known each other since we were fifteen."
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Post by Behax on Apr 16, 2020 13:31:02 GMT
Chuuya didn’t seem to mind the terrible french, and talking with Dazai in it seemed to refamiliarise him enough that soon he wasn’t having to think too deeply about his responses. It did however confirm that Chuuya had definitely retained some of his more residual knowledge. He could read and write in Japanese, English and French, though any languages he had only dipped his toes in previously he couldn’t recall. He could remember what objects were and what they were for. It was his long term personal memory which had been affected, things that affected and catalogued his relationships with others.
He appreciated Dazai answering questions as he asked them, but he very quickly got the impression he wasn’t being told things. That Dazai was intentionally leaving some things vague or blank entirely. More than once he realised Dazai had changed the subject or attempted to misdirect him. Things he had been told seemed innocent enough, but no mention of either of their families aside from Kouyou, no explanation of what Chuuya couldn’t only assume by his surroundings was some great wealth on his part.
But then.
“We’ve known each other since we were 15.”
It brought Chuuya’s mind back to the photo, the only photo of them.
“If we’ve known each other so long then…..Why do I only have the one photo of us?”
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Post by quinnlocke on Apr 16, 2020 19:59:36 GMT
Damn it...
He'd done so well up to this point. Evading questions that came too close to revealing too much.
"I wouldn't let anyone take more of me. I...we didn't always get along, you and I. But we always trusted each other."
He wanted to tell Chuuya their whole story. Wanted to give his side of it, maybe it would help.
Yosano warned him repeatedly that too much at once could cause permanent damage to Chuuya's psyche. That no matter how strong he made himself out to be, his mind had suffered.
"We worked for the same company. They partnered us together despite our objections. Mostly because we were a perfect fit. Two opposing pieces that locked together."
He sighed, this was impossible and Chuuya was staring at him wide eyed and inquisitive, like some child.
"I left and didn't say goodbye. Pretty sure you haven't forgiven me for that. But, you never stopped trusting me. And, four years later we were reunited and, it was like old times."
He smiled, remembering the feel of Chuuya's ability shaking the ground. The way Lovecraft was flattened with a boulder of all things. They never stopped knowing each other's moves and mannerisms.
"After that, we sort of forgot some of the things that made us hate each other. Or, I guess you could say they didn't seem as important now that we're older."
If Dazai had known how much of his mask had slipped, he would have shut up long before he started reminiscing. He would have known the fondness in his voice, the warmth he was exuding when he spoke of their reunion. He would have stopped himself from making it painfully obvious that he was absolutely in love with Chuuya.
The biggest problem with that, was that he hadn't quite taught himself to accept that fact yet. So for Chuuya to be discovering it this way, well, it could only be a disaster.
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Post by Behax on Apr 16, 2020 20:35:21 GMT
Chuuya listened to Dazai’s explanation with wrapped attention, as if maybe something might jog his memory and all of it would just magically fall back into place and he could stop feeling so uncertain and lost. But that's when the uncertainty came in, because he knew Dazai wasn’t telling him everything. He had no proof but a gut feeling, and he wasn’t yet bold enough to accuse Dazai of such.
What wasn’t in doubt however was how much Dazai clearly cared about him. Though it wasn’t quite enough for Chuuya to realise how deeply that care ran, or that it could be more succinctly described as ‘love’. It might have been easier for the man to recognise had he had more of his own memory to work from.
“I see….” He did however feel some pain over Dazai’s simplified version of events regarding his betrayal. A deep hurt that told him it went a little more deeply than Dazai was making it out. Though even Chuuya could understand that learning too much at once could overwhelm him, even Yosano had warned him not to try and chase too much of his past too quickly.
As the questions wore on, he eventually found himself growing tired, most likely from the mental fatigue. When it came time that he should sleep he seemed to be growing anxious about something, and it took a little prodding for Dazai to get it out of him, though it was still easier than to get anything out of the man he had known.
“I guess…...I’m scared…” Scared of falling asleep and waking up with no memory all over again. Yosano had done her best to assure him that such an event was unlikely, but not an over all impossibility. It scared him, this idea of losing himself all over again.
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Post by quinnlocke on Apr 16, 2020 22:45:53 GMT
He wanted to hug him. He wanted to offer to spend the night next to him. he wanted so many things and as always, he couldn't have them.
"The good news is there's no chance of you losing more memories in your sleep. Dr. Yosano even said sleep is the best way to retain memories so if anything you'll get some back."
It was a weak statement and he knew it.
Dazai watched forlornly as Chuuya ascended the stairs to his bedroom alone. He stayed awake for hours listening to Chuuya snore.
The tears came, only a few, but they came. Thankfully they didn't stop him from finally drifting off to a very restless sleep.
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Post by Behax on Apr 16, 2020 23:03:44 GMT
It took a little while, a lot of tossing and turning, and trying to get comfortable. The bed felt too big, did he really need to have such a large bed? Eventually he was able to fall asleep, curled up in the middle, surrounded by a nest of his bed covers. His sleep was for the most part dreamless, or at least if he did dream, he didn’t remember it when he woke up.
When he did wake up, he slowly blinked himself awake in a dim bedroom, his curtains nearly locking out all light. He rolled over onto his back and ran his hands down his face. Then started at the ceiling and ran through all the information he could remember.
His name was Chuuya Nakahara. He had a sister called Kouyou Ozaki. They had different surnames….This was in Kouyou’s words ‘complicated.’ He had a close friend called Osamu Dazai. Calling him Osamu still feels weird on his tongue and he can not say why. They have known each other since they were 15. His Doctor is called Akiko Yosano. He can speak, read and write fluently in Japanese, English and French. He has a well paying job? He thinks? He has expensive tastes.
Nothing seemed to be missing, but he couldn’t recall anything new either. He sat up, and the first thing he noticed was that he was now naked. In the night he had shimmied out of his pj’s. Odd.
He could hear footsteps ascending the stairs as he was fighting his way back into the baggy shirt.
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