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Dazai
There was no point.
There never was.
He doubted that there was ever any reason for existing, yet others chose to look on the happy, optimistic side of things.
Standing on the side of a bridge, he wondered whether they would ever stop and realise how pointless the world was — everything was.
It was a numbing feeling, knowing that everything was worthless and meaningless.
Why would he bother to be rich if he couldn’t be bothered to live in the first place?
He didn’t hate this feeling, nor did he enjoy it. He no longer felt anything at all.
He was so incredibly tired of living for no reason.
People would look at him weird when he shared his perspective and opinion on ‘life’.
“Disrespect! Life is a wonderful thing—” Is it now? Then why do people suffer? Some people would rather not exist at all.
After all, that’s why suicide exists.
Taking a deep breath, Dazai looked down.
The bridge was around 50 meters above a river, which would surely kill him.
To put an end to all of this.
“No one’s gonna miss me, anyways.”
He jumped.
Thinking back, Dazai thinks that he might’ve laughed.
For a split second, he had felt alive.
The wind rushed through his hair, and the river had come up to meet him.
Then, it was darkness.
“Dazai? Wake up, we’re still sparring, y’know….” A voice snapped him out of his ‘trance’.
“Sorry!” You might ask how Dazai was even alive, seeing as he jumped off a bridge that was 50 meters off the ground.
Truth is, even Dazai didn't know.
Oda was looking at him with a concerned look in his eye. The man tilted his head slightly. “Are you alright?”
“Fine, just thinking. You still haven’t told me how you managed to save me.” He answered, fiddling with the hem of his shirt. He had gotten so nervous these days, it was so out of character for him.
“Well, I saw your body floating on a river, and I decided to fish it out. Your body would've decomposed and polluted the water. Of course, your skin was still warm so I’d rather not have more blood than needed on my hands.”
“Mhm. So it was more practical than anything to do with emotion?”
“Well, I did think that it would be quite an…. Unholy scene for anyone else to stumble upon.”
“I guess so.”
“Anyways, I think we’re done for today. Go in, wash up, do something else, it’s not like I have any real rules for you here. Go on about your day like usual.” Oda turned to leave, before Dazai called out suddenly.
“Oda-san!”
“Yes?” The other man looked slightly confused by the sudden outburst.
“T-Thank you for bringing me back!” Dazai didn’t know why he was so nervous — three hours ago, he was a cold, bland and unfeeling person. Now, he felt more emotion than he did in the last few years.
“Of course.” Oda had a genuine, soft smile on his face, before he turned around again and walked away.
Dazai felt happy.
His days weren’t exactly unique, nor fun and games, but he had a purpose, and that was a lot more than what he used to have.
Working for the Port Mafia might be dangerous, and the old Dazai would’ve never imagined himself doing this for a living, but who cares? At least he had something to do, and that was all he needed.
Dazai was fairly sure that the other members of the Mafia disliked him, as he often caught them cursing, whispering or glaring at him whenever he walked by. It was kind of petty, though, so it wasn’t like he cared all that much.
The months went by, and soon it was December. Life had gotten a bit dull lately, and while Dazai scolded himself for complaining about this, especially since he was lucky to be alive, it was still nagging at him.
“Osamu.” The boss was sitting behind his desk, with his chin resting on his hands.
“Boss.” He did know the boss’s name, Ogai Mori, but he didn't know anything else about this man, except for the fact that he was required to listen to his every order.
“There have been multiple cases of bombing over the past few days. Investigate. Report back immediately once you have assessed or dealt with the issue. I trust that you know about the previous mafia leader?”
“Of course, boss.”
“Good. There have been many sightings of his ghost. Investigate.”
“Yes, boss.”
Although Dazai rarely spoke to the boss, the man always left a lasting impression on him. Yes, Ogai could be quite clumsy instead of a refined, elegant boss, and could sometimes make a fool of himself.
However, after making a certain, ah, arrangement with Mori, Dazai could be sure of one thing.
Ogai Mori, the Port Mafia leader, was dangerous.
Oda was walking, no, more like pacing around the entrance of the building. He was muttering something incomprehensible underneath his breath.
“Dazai!” The other man looked pleased and a bit relieved to see him, and Dazai felt the same. His muscles and posture relaxed, and it would be indifferent to anyone else looking at him. It wasn’t really visible, but if you knew what you were looking for, you could see it.
“Odasaku~ Will you be helping me with my mission?” Please, please say yes, I’m not ready yet.
“Unfortunately not.” Dazai’s heart plummeted. Even though he’d trained for months for this, it was still a lot scarier when he was forced to actually do it.
“Oh. Well, I’ll see you later.”
“Mhm. Don’t get yourself killed, alright? You got my good clothes wet when you jumped off that bridge.”
“Of course."
Dazai walked away, and towards the city’s centre. There was a park nearby, which many people had stated seeing the previous Mafia boss’s ghost. If this was true, Dazai would be tasked with vanquishing it.
Cars drove by, and families walked past Dazai, not sparing him a second glance, apart from the people that stared at the bandages over his right eye. It had gotten damaged, after someone slashed it during training. They were suspended and berated by Oda, but Dazai himself had gotten a warning that if he could not face things like this by himself, he wasn’t cut out for Mafia life.
This exchange didn’t really infuriate Dazai, but it made him coldly certain of one thing.
Mercy was optional.
Survival was not.
He needed to become better than everyone else in order to live. Being the person he was back then, he wouldn’t have survived in the Mafia for a second. He’d be wiped out completely.
Dazai owed Oda everything. The two had grown incredibly close over the past few months, and Dazai gave him a nickname, Odasaku. It’s a mash of your first and last name, he had said. Oda had laughed, and Dazai felt happy, pleased and proud that he was able to make someone else happy for a change.
Oda had shared a bit of his past life, and they had bonded over the feeling of sadness and tragedy. While Dazai was used to saying that he felt no emotion in the last 4 years, it slowly became more apparent that that was all a lie. He was bored, dull, and saw life in a very black–and–white manner. However, there was something else under that, something that wasn’t just ‘no emotion’.
He felt lonely.
No one could relate to him, no one could understand him. No one could bother dealing with him, to try and just look at him differently.
No one would, and no one could.
Until Oda.
Oda listened to him, Oda understood him. Oda had given him hope that there was grey between the black and white. Oda had talked to him and made an effort to care for him. For the first time in what felt like forever, Dazai didn’t want to die.
“Watch where you’re going!” A man snapped, as Dazai nearly bumped into him. While it was a mistake on Dazai’s part, the tone the man used irked him greatly.
He let out a small hiss, before carrying on walking.
The park was immaculate. The leaves were lush, and the fountain in the middle had clear, clean water flowing out of it. The spell was broken when he saw a flicker in the corner of his eye.
A ghost? Maybe.
He ran in that direction, before being violently kicked in the back. He was pinned to the ground, someone’s foot placed in the small of his back.
“Tell me about Arahabaki!” The guy hissed, his tone full of venom and malice.
“No.”
“You insolent—”
“If you’re going to threaten me with my life, kill me already.”
“You—!”
“I know who you are; you’re the infamous leader of the Sheep, aren’t you?”
“Yeah, and you’ll know better than to mess with me, no?”
“No.” The other boy looked like he was about to kill Dazai. Dazai himself, however, paid him no mind. Though he did feel a spike of irritation, he masked his emotions just like Odasaku taught him. Of course, there was clearly no ghost here, and so he had successfully ‘assessed’ the situation, so he was to report back to the mafia.
The boy looked furious, and was clearly about to start a fight. The boy raised an arm, and Dazai lashed out, catching the arm mid air and instantly moved to defend himself. They tackled each other, and Dazai managed to pin the other man down, but the intense pain in his right arm told him that he’d broke it. Dazai shut his mouth, keeping any emotion off his face. Any normal person would be crying out in pain.
Fuck the injury, he needed to subdue this guy and get on with his mission.
“Dazai!” A voice shouted, slightly panicked, obviously trying to stop the commotion. “Mori has been informed of your…. Accommodation. You two are tasked to work together.” Before Dazai had the chance to respond, Chuuya opened his mouth.
“This idiot? He just pinned me to the ground!” True, true. He didn’t regret it, though, the boy deserved it.
“Mori’s orders?” Dazai ignored Chuuya completely.
“Yes, sir.”
“Very well.” He was never one to disobey orders. Chuuya seemed like the rebel type, as he proceeded to complain.
“Why would I work with him?”
“You will listen unless you would rather be decapitated in a rather gruesome manner. When the Boss issues an order, everyone will follow.”
Chuuya opened his mouth again, and Dazai, who was taught to tame his emotions, was ready to make sure that this man never stands again.
Thank the lord that he closed that bitchass mouth.
“Fine.” He hissed through his mouth, turning away. “Now what do we do?” The words were spoken bitterly, and Dazai felt a surge of frustration at the rash and impolite manner.
“Well, we will be investigating the ghost appearances. Of course, I assume you can fight?”
“Obviously. But I don’t expect you to do anything—you’re just dead weight with that arm.” Venom dripped from his words, and Dazai turned away from him.
“Apologies. However, what is done is done. Should we need to fight, we will fight, regardless of any injuries.” He changed his way of speaking into a more formal, cold tone, which made it a lot easier to cover up his loathing for this man.
“Hmph.” The other mumbled something underneath his breath, but if it was anything of importance, Dazai did not hear it, nor did he pay it any mind.
“Please leave us now. Inform the Boss that we have decided to work together to track down the ghost. Tell him not to worry— we will get the job done.”
“Yes, sir.” The man left in a hurry, and Dazai was afraid that he may have left a rather heartless impression on him. That was a problem that wasn’t really a problem. Dazai could really not care less about other people’s thoughts or opinions towards him. Quite the opposite, actually. Others could call him ‘the cruelest, bloodthirsty and apathetic human being ever to exist’ and Dazai wouldn’t bat an eye.
“Well? Come on!” Chuuya’s voice snapped Dazai back to the present, which Dazai was rather ashamed of—he was on a mission, and he was required to succeed.
“Of course.”