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[nullificates]

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dazai

osamu

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[fatalism]

[ politeness is what drives him; social niceties are so easy, so crucial, so much part of the cycle that fyodor follows. he can pray and he can offer confession; he cannot feel like others do and in this he cannot do anything but mimicry.

is it odd to buy the person you were trying to kill a cupcake and put a candle on it? yes, but this is also fyodor and dazai and their interactions had never been conventional, even if this act is conventional. ]

[nullificates]

(the knock on the door isn't a surprise, but the man behind it is. he can't help but wonder - is this one more of his impulsive acts, such as he had done when he got dazai his first pair of shoes in this place?

the smile can't be helped. it's cute, actually.)

Ah, so you did know.

(naturally. that's not the surprise.)

[fatalism]

[ a mixture of both impulsiveness and fyodor's general polite, calculated self. less impulsive than the shoes but not entirely devoid of that said sort of genuine warmth that would be alien if thought through. ]

I have a whole mental file on you, of course, I know.

[ the cupcake is red velvet, and the frosting has been exaggerated and overflows like an open wound. the candle is white, almost like a knife jutting in. ]

[nullificates]

Sure I know, Mikhailovich, it'd be weird if you didn't.

(a tap-tap on the mattress. it's easier if fyodor approaches himself, but he can take a look at the cupcake from afar. his hand goes to his heart, the smile on his face warm and honest, even if the words are awfully empty and exaggerated.

a labyrinth of emotion, where only the corner of his mouth expresses the most.)

This is so romantic. It feels like I'm being nicely proposed to in a murder!

[fatalism]

[ his mouth twitches at the use of his patronymic. like always, fyodor approaches without hesitation but with careful steps, it's not fear it's caution that governs his closing the gap between them. ]

I asked them to add the extra frosting just for that effect. [ he confirms and offers the cupcake properly now. ] I thought of poisoning it but seemed like a shame to ruin the hard work of someone else.

[nullificates]

As I told you, I'm not particularly worried about you attempting to kill me with the mundane. We can, however, play a little once I am on my feet. Are there any games you'd like to play?

(a little thrill. it's not a breach of contract if there's consent, is it?)

I like your middle name, however. May I be bold and ask for it to be my birthday gift!

[fatalism]

What? [ fyodor looks taken aback entirely by the request. ] You want to be called Osamu Mikhailovich Dazai? It sounds absolutely terrible.

[ he had been thinking of a game or two, maybe three or four...'play' a little is questionable. fyodor isn't exactly known for his restraint. ]

[nullificates]

No!!! No, no. I want to call you Mikhailovich! We're moving too fast if we're really taking each other's names.

(can't help but flirt, sorry, he's in a mood. fyodor is lowkey driving him insane.)

1/2

[fatalism]

[ wat.

fyodor's face goes through a whole range of microexpressions: confusion, understanding, surprise, horror, back to more confusion. ]

2/2

[fatalism]

It's a mouthful, even if your Russian pronunciation is passable.

[ he resists the urge to pace because why is dazai so...dazai. he was never like this in prison, or had he been and fyodor just missed the flirting? ]

[nullificates]

You said you would teach me, though.

(NO, HE DIDN'T.)

[fatalism]

You don't require my help to learn it. [ he is pretty sure he would not agree to such a thing, he tugs the collar of dazai's shirt in admonishment. ]

If what you want is my name then pronounce it properly and you may have it.

[ it's just a name, right? ]

[nullificates]

(now that dazai's heard, he can repeat it, easily, and he comes close, as if to dare, challenge. that smirk never leaves.)

Mikhailovich.

(perfect.)

[fatalism]

[ fyodor clicks his tongue, rolls his eyes, but he doesn't look that annoyed. ] Passable, why do you even care for having a name as a gift? I thought you'd want some insider information about my plans or such. [ something fyodor wouldn't have given and would've left dazai there with his cupcake but... ]

[nullificates]

Because no one else calls you as such, do they?

(passable? bitch, it had been perfect?

eithey way, he snorts a little, the calmness in his smile a quiet reminder that there's honesty from his tongue at times.)

Why? I won't remember. Isn't it much more fun to play around here than to simply get answers that won't satisfy me?

[fatalism]

You are correct, anyone who did is no longer among the living, is that why you want it so badly? [ his sharp smile; the way his fingers twitch and want to press down on dazai's legs, on those mending bones to watch him squirm. ]

Answers are malleable, as are your moods. What doesn't satisfy you today might tomorrow.

[nullificates]

Perhaps I simply want closeness, is that too bad of a thing to ask of a man who had kissed my forehead and disappeared? Ah, something that did not satisfy me months ago, nor does it now.

(fyodor might have the physical power in this exchange, but dazai has knowledge, has words that sting and stab, even if they sound innocent and well-meaning.)

[fatalism]

[ an annoyed twitch of his eye before his expression flattens, glass-like. ]

And what would satisfy you, Dazai? Me laying here open for your perusal? I have trouble imagining myself kissing you in such a manner, as if you were holy and I were asking for your blessing.

[ for you. ]

[nullificates]

Nope, that's exactly why I didn't accept you.

(fyodor was starting to see it, and perhaps, this is a step forward to open his eyes for a second time.

he has feelings. feelings that he can't fully understand - but he won't take a half-hearted experience for it.

he's not holy. the devotion is the other way around.)

tw; bible talk

[fatalism]

[ there is something in the way dazai says those words; the way he looks—it's not how fyodor remembers at meursault when he had placed his chin on his palm and stared at dazai, really looked.

even if those feelings are sitting at the back of fyodor's throat, they don't have sound nor words nor understanding. ] I suppose I should thank you for not letting me do that. After all, as it is written, “The two will become one flesh.”

[ even if fyodor, who does not hold marriage to be the one and only way to be in a relationship, were prone to intimacy, there is something daunting about it, because of that phrase, because of what he is, because of what he does. ]

[nullificates]

Do you truly believe so? Is that truly how you see those things?

(the taste of old sayings, the taste of expectations, and the taste of the holy. perhaps dazai won't ever feel it against his tongue in a way that does satisfy him, but right now, he can be complacent and appeased by the brain and thoughts that don't bring in flesh.

it is exactly what he likes about fyodor the most, anyway. that mind, the way it works, so similar, yet so different from his own.)

[fatalism]

[ his look is sharp, not annoyed but there is something there. something he can't quite grasp that strangles his tongue. fyodor swallows. ] I can kill by mere touch, Dazai. Why wouldn't I believe this to be so?

Physical intimacy is a union of the higher self, I would not say two sides of a whole exactly but certainly...devotion. [ sanctuary. quiet. peace. ]

[nullificates]

Because you met me.

(whose skin can't be broken by a sole touch, who can't even feel the wrath of punishment when he touches fyodor. doesn't that relieve him, at least a little? there's an offering of his hand. if fyodor would like to feel 'no longer human's embrace, this is the opportunity to do so.)

It can be, with intent.

[fatalism]

[ the crime of his existence is rewarded by the existence of punishment.

fyodor doesn't loathe his ability, he simply thinks it is cruel. he is— pauses, looks at the offered hand. ] You can survive my ability by virtue of your own, is that fate? Or temptation to go astray?

[ fyodor drops his hand onto dazai's but crime and punishment remains dormant rather than suppressed by no longer human. ]

[nullificates]

Those are the things your brain wonders about. Mine has stopped attempting to find any reason for the way things are.

(it can't, with everything he has went through, to give it up that easy as a prophecy. they've spoken about this before - 'He is only good at accidentals and irrationality', and here they are. this is irrational, and yet, his hand gently holds the other.)