pc catchall: chuuya

[shortfornow]

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[shortfornow]

[ that's gay. why is there that feeling there??? he moves his hand away just to be sure it's not from his own contact. ] What are you thinking about?

[shortforever]

[He blinks, clearly confused by the question. Bye bye butterfly-feeling!]

Ayabe demanding we get haircuts? We were just talking about it.

[shortfornow]

[ That does nothing to answer anything. The feeling is something foreign, but it didn't seem bad. He just can't place it or what really caused it. Frowning for a moment as he thinks about it...

Chuuya will probably get a vague kind of perplexed feel from him before he sighs. ]

It doesn't matter.

[shortforever]

[And that does nothing to alleviate Chuuya's sheer confusion at Dazai being perplexed about feelings. But ultimately, he doesn't care enough to question it much. It's just another weird Dazai thing.]

You're so weird.

i should warn for suicide because unlocks

[shortfornow]

Maybe you just bring it out.

[ Nah, he knows he's weird. Just going to look at his book again. Tilting it to let Chuuya to see it as well if he wants. It basically goes through different methods and has graphs for pain, if it's easy, and how much of a pain it'll be for others to clean up. Fun, huh? ]

[shortforever]

Yeah, that wouldn't be so surprising.

[But sure, he grabs the book and looks through it. And he frowns.]

Of all the things to read here, THIS is what you choose?

[shortfornow]

I'm still interested in it, even if I'm not actively trying to kill myself.

[ Turning his body towards Chuuya. ]

[shortforever]

Let's at least try to find you some new interests.

[He's going to crawl over to the edge of the tent fort and pull a book out of a small pile he has there. That's the book he tosses over to Dazai.]

Here, read this.

[It's poetry.]

[shortfornow]

[ Poems. Huh.

Just going to flip through before pausing at a poem. Time to read it out loud! ]

I guess
I know now
why you never
held my hand tight;

why hold on to someone
you know
you're just going
to let go,
right?

[shortforever]

... Of course you would pick that one.

[That sure is a poem.]

Yeah, fine. Even sad poems are alright.

[shortfornow]

Want me to find something better? I bet there's a love poem I can read to you.

[ He's fully expecting to be smothered by a pillow soon ]

[shortforever]

I didn't know you were into love poems. But sure, lay it on me.

[shortfornow]

I can't say if I'm interested in it or not.

[ It's not something he'll ever really know though so might as well read it... ]

Love, a boundless feeling;
free to give. Free- to receive.
But not a love like mine-
forbidden.
Not a love like this.

Such love must stay hidden
inside the corridors
beneath my ribs.

You mustn't look at me tender
you mustn't talk to me sweet;
you mustn't give this wild bird
it's desired pair of wings.

[ He's keeping his tone even as he reads it. ]

Your turn. You should read something.

[shortforever]

That actually sounds exactly like the kind of love confession you would make.

[Being a weirdo and loving someone at a distance.

He'll flip through a few of the pages before he finds one that sounds interesting. When he reads it though, it's not as smooth as talking. He has to pause at times to really look at the words and get their meaning before he can finish them.]

There is a place of peace
There is a place of joy
A place away from loneliness
A place away from pain
That place is next to you
A secret garden
Where black and white becomes a colorful place
Of loving, kisses, touching, caressing,
There with you and only you
Cares of the world melting away
Anger and fear are not allowed
Prejudice cannot enter
A place where two hearts beat as one
A place where two souls are interwoven,
Touching the inner-place of one another
A place that I long to come back to again and again
A place of sweet abandon
A place next to you

See? That one's nice.

[shortfornow]

No way. There's no way I would do a love confession like that.

[ Also did you really pick something sappy to read to him? ]

Is that the kind of confession you want to receive?

[shortforever]

I mean, yeah? Someday I'd like that, sure. Who wouldn't?

[As soon as the words leave his mouth though, he knows he's saying it to the wrong person.]

[shortfornow]

[ It is, but it's fine. He already had a conversation earlier with someone else about how he's probably no longer human because of how he doesn't feel much. ]

I don't know if I can ever understand that.

[ Look, he's being honest but it's probably a side effect of everything happening and how this week was a lot. ]

Maybe if I practice it.

[shortforever]

That's kinda scary to think about. You get good at anything you really try to do. How many hearts are you gonna end up breaking by being a flirt?

[Too many, if canon has anything to say about it.]

[shortfornow]

[ He grows up to become a ho. Still doesn't really love after Oda and Ango. ]

So you admit I'm good at anything.

[ Aww Chuuya. ]

[shortforever]

You're good at things when you try. And don't let that praise go to your head.

[He'll have to cut down on future praise if Dazai is too much of a gremlin about it.]

[shortfornow]

[ He's been getting a steady diet of being fed after midnight so.... it's too late. The gremlin is growing stronger with each day. ]

Sure sure~ I'll just remember this as the day Chuuya said I was good at anything I try.

[ Grabbing the poem book though to flip through for another. ]