The morning after the party
Ango wakes up slowly. It’s morning; the sun is peeking through the curtains. He’s sure his alarm should have gone off by now - in fact thinking of the recent events, it’s surprising he’s in bed to begin with. Still, being so well-rested - he doesn’t feel like hurrying just yet. Late as he is, taking half an hour more will change nothing. He gets up, and sees -
Dazai-kun, sleeping on his sofa.
It freezes him on his track. He looks once, and twice, and keeps looking. He remembers the night before, he knows what happened; that’s not what freezing him.
The man sleeping on his couch doesn’t wear that many bandages; they’re not the first thing you notice about him. His coat his brown, not blakc, and even thoguh ango feels the hit from remembering where it came from, that’s not all. On his couch, it’s an adult, and a member of the detective agency, who used to be a teen in the mafia. Dazai-kun, ex-mafia executive, enfant terrible, who work for the detective agency - he’s a member of the agency who sued to be in the mafia, now, and not an ex-mafia who now works for the agency. The difference betwen the teen he knew and the man he grow into feels infinite.
And yet, and yet. He knows this man. For all the way he differs from the ambulant despair he used to be, who he is now is still growth from back then. Un-stunted growth, healthy grwoth. THe man bear the scars of the child; but is not teh child anymore. Ango doesn’t understand what is happening in his heart. There’s no way for Dazai-kun to grow more precious to him than he already is, so what is it ? What is it?
He can’t shake himself out of it. He can’t even say - maybe, the most simple of things, is how much he wants this man in his life, when even yesterday he didn’t believe it possible.