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knockyasocksoff2022 · 2 days

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perfect crimes leave everyone unhappy

3,883 Words

Tetchou, normally an early riser, doesn't wake until his alarm (programmed to get progressively louder) makes the nightstand shake.

He's awake but not rested so it takes him a moment to realise that instead of the usual 9:00 AM, the clock reads 9:30. When it does click, he blinks until it reads 9:31. Then he gets up, rolling his shoulders until they pop. The quiet house swallows the sound as it's made, leaving him once again in silence.

Ever efficient, he dresses and eats quickly, not truly tasting the food.

He tries to think 'Do I ever taste the food? What was it that I even ate just now? Cereal, yes, but of what kind-' then catches himself. When he stops thinking of breakfast Kenji's words come back to him. Frustrated, he huffs, trying to lose himself in the walk, the mindlessness of it, the way he normally does, but he can't seem to. Not today, anyway.

Not when there are all of a sudden so many things. The crunch of gravel, the hush-hush of newly grown spring leaves, and the chirps of the birds that have dared return from the south early. Tetchou would swear that these things had not been here before, even in the last week which he knew on the calendar to be the start of spring. Yet, he knew that they indeed had been here.

'So why am I just hearing them now? Is there something wrong with me?' White, white white, think only of white. A newly fallen snowbank. Pure, clean, beautiful, perfection.

He wades through his sea of white to the Fire station, stepping through the threshold at 10:05.

"You're late, Suehiro." A voice sharp, and clear admonished him in lieu of greeting. Its owner leans apathetically against the wall, eating a pear.

"I didn't sleep well." he knows by now to keep his response brief. Seeking sympathy from Jouno Saigiku will get him nowhere. Nobody else has much sympathy for him either. Well, maybe the Captain, but he's nowhere in sight. Probably in his office doing whatever it is he does up there.

"You sick or something? Well, don't come near the Captain or me, we don't want your germs." The voice of the youngest firefighter, Okura Teru, has an unpleasant quality when bounced off the concrete walls of the station. Even if it wasn't so distinct, Tetchou would know him by his reference to himself and the Captain as one.

(A/N: Yeah, I genderbent Teruko, lol)

Despite his words, the petite pinkette comes toward him, hand outstretched. "At least put on a mask, Jeez! No respect for your superiors!"

"He's not sick, Teru, quit your yapping. I can feel it in my bones." Jouno sticks his fingers in his ears, scrunching his face in discomfort.

Teru starts to reply, but before he can speak, Jouno's switchblade is at his throat. The two stare at each other, Teru's stubborn versus Jouno's evil. Jouno wins. Teru glares one last time, then drops his gaze.

He skips off to the table, pretending he cares less than he does, probably to mentally work the crossword just in case the Captain asks for help. Indeed, he starts scanning the page, smiling smugly as he does. He basks in his spot as the Captain's favourite, even though from what Tetchou has seen, the Captain favours Jouno, but it's far easier for everyone involved to let Teru live his illusion rather than incite his wrath by suggesting otherwise.

Teru knows, of course, he does. Jealousy is the reason why he dislikes Jouno so much.

"Thanks," Tetchou says, looking away from Teru, and back to Jouno.

"It wasn't for you, and you should put on the mask anyway. Your breathing annoys me."

"No. No point if I'm not sick." Tetchou flicks the mask back at Jouno.

He doesn't flinch, but leans slightly more left and allows the mask to fall into the garbage bin next to him.

Jouno.

Jouno Saigiku is one of the most interesting people Tetchou has ever met. Tetchou has three centimetres on him, but he looks much taller. Tetchou thinks it's his personality, the air with which he carries himself. And it helps that he's slimmer too.

His hair is white as the snow Tetchou always fills his mind with and no matter how much soot and ash covers all of the firemen, his hair is always clean shining white. It used to be creepy, but now in a sea of orange and black, it's refreshing, one might even say beautiful. The ends are soaked in red, like blood or flames creeping up, continuously reaching but never quite touching their target. His hair comes to his cheek, leaving his shoulders on display. He really does have a nice body. Many times Tetchou will just stare at him when he isn't paying attention. He'll stare and wonder how Jouno is so muscular despite never seeing him work out.

His eyelashes are white too, yet somehow they don't disappear against his pale skin, instead showing perfectly his expressions (usually ones of annoyance).

'If he was a woman I'd even overlook the sadism. . . . If he was a woman, if he was a woman, if he was a woman . . .'

"Oh, quit your staring. I can feel it. I haven't changed since you saw me yesterday."

Tetchou doesn't bother to ask how. Jouno's keen senses are a mystery no one has been able to solve.

"Sorry." The apology from Tetchou is genuine, Jouno knows this, but he waves him away anyway.

"Just shut up. I need peace" He doesn't dislike Tetchou, he's just not a very tolerant person in general.

It's been two hours since the start of the shift and still, there've been no calls or cases to investigate. Tetchou doesn't mind, and he does. He wants to be up and moving. He wants to be doing something.

He finds Jouno in the kitchen doing nothing. He stops and watches him for a bit. It's at times like these when he thinks that Jouno might be as restless as he is, that there might actually be some crack in his seemingly unshakable calm. And then it's gone.

Jouno turns, raising a pale eyebrow.

"Need something, Suehiro?"

" . . . No, I just . . . I'm just bored."

"Well then listen to the radio or something."

The thought hadn't even occurred to him, embarrassed for a reason he doesn't quite understand, he looks away. "I don't feel like it."

"Well, I guess it's just okay to bother me then, hmm?"

A question burns on the tips of Tetchou's tongue. But it feels wrong to ask, and he's not sure he wants to hear the answer, worried it will change too much of his mundane life.

'What a ridiculous thing to think.'

So he asks something else that he can't seem to get out of his mind.

"Do you think we're important to aliens?" He says suddenly, the volume startling even him. Jouno cringes, covering his ears.

It's too late to take it back now so Tetchou continues, trying to keep his voice down. "What about the sun and the moon? Do they matter? Or are they just like any other star?"

The words spill across the silence, rising like bread until they fill the entirety of the small kitchen. Jouno looks at him as if he just said everyone should start reading books again. Maybe . . .

"Yuuji, what on earth are you talking about?"

"I-I . . . I don't know, I just . . ."

"Stop stuttering. What's wrong with you today? Never mind, we'll be here forever if you answer that."

"I'm fine!" Tetchou says. It comes out as a shout. "I'm fine," he says again, softer, like a whisper, a plea. Maybe for himself more than anyone.

Jouno looks, in the way only a blind man can, at him, but says nothing.

"I have a feeling we're going to be dispatched soon."

Tetchou nods. Jouno can sense a job minutes before it happens, he's never been wrong.

Five minutes later the bell rings, the nasally sound ripping through the building like the fire its inhabitants create. Someone has been caught with forbidden knowledge.

"Ugh." Despite his prediction, Jouno still scorns the sound of the bell. "I wish these nuts would really stop it. Just get it in their thick heads that we're going to catch them every time. They remind me of you actually, Yuujirou."

The remark is casual but Tetchou freezes mid-step.

"What?" He's ready to deny it. He's ready to lie.

"What?" Jouno looks at him like he's stupid. He feels stupid.

"What do you mean by that?"

Jouno rolls his eyes (Somehow they stay closed when he does this, but Tetchou can see the minute movement anyway), "Because you're dense. Now hurry up. I want to burn something."

The firemen move with practised speed and agility even with all their gear. It's a routine—a habit. Down the pole, to the truck, out of the station, drive, burn, back in the truck, back to the station, repeat.

The Captain drives, with Teru in the front passenger seat. In the farthest row back, Tetchou sits across from Jouno. The seat next to Jouno is full of spare fire helmets. There's only one seat empty. That seat belongs to Tachihara Michizou.

'I do miss that guy. He should have enough to leave soon. He must be going crazy around all those . . .' He doesn't know exactly what to call them, and his brain won't form the words he's heard so often.

'Too cruel,' he thinks, 'That's too cruel for people I've never met.'

He closes his eyes, imagining that he can be there with the boy. Tachihara is almost as young as Teru, only six months older. Was he ready for a mission so big? Is he okay?

'Yes, he's fine. He'll be back soon.'

When Tetchou opens his eyes Jouno is looking right at him. "I can tell you're thinking something, something more than you should." that look says. Jouno himself says nothing though.

At the truck's destination a man, not much younger than Tetchou himself, is busy at work. Placing the final touches on a fireworks show that would make even the brightest pyrotechnicians jealous. It's an intricate trap of more than 1000 matches and palm-sized explosives, each and every one laid by hand.

He trunks to his accomplice, the owner of the soon-to-be burnt home, with a tear-streaked face.

"Seishi . . . does it have to be like this."

"Oh, calm now Mushi, you know it does. Mrs. Sasaki won't stay silent forever."

"Maybe, maybe she will . . ."

"She won't. I gave her everything but my last yen coin to delay her long enough so we could do this. So I could have the death I want." The older man brushes the dust from his hands off on his yukata and cups his helper's face, "Do you want to see me spend the rest of my days in some white padded room?"

"N-no, but there has to be another-"

"There is not. We must do this, Mushitarou-kun. I was found out weeks ago, no one holds onto such a secret for so long. They simply can't resist telling it."

"I can save them, at least some of them. If you do this they'll all die with you, at leats, if they locked you up there's a chance you'd get out. This . . . there's no coming back from this."

"Mushi, my boy, look at me."

Mushitarou looks.

"I am 30, by the time everyone realises how bad society has messed up, I'll be long gone. There is no possible way for you to save any of these tomes without sacrificing yourself as well and I will not, WILL NOT, have that. Yes, they will die with me, but it is far better to die at the hands of someone who loves you than to be a faceless meaningless victim. We will all die together, the books and I, and that is exactly how I want it, how I've always envisioned it."

Mushitarou nods.

"You know what to do, Mushi. Go and call them now, be a good boy."

"Goodbye, Kindaichi-san. I'll always remember you."

"Oh, don't get sentimental on me, we haven't the time for that, go!" Yokomizo waves him away with a smile.

Mushitarou tries his best for a smile as he walks out the door, leaving it open wide behind him. He heads to the phone book across the road and dials #451

The fire station answers immediately, the clear voice of a young boy saying "This is Station 13. Thank you for your call, what address would you like to report?"

Mushitarou swallows. "Yokomizo Seishi owns 100 Sun Street. A Western-style townhome. The place is absolutely full of books, you can see them from the windows."

The fireman giggles "Ooh. We'll be there soon. You can stay and watch if you like, but please maintain a distance of at least 7 metres away while we work. See you."

Musihtarou hangs up.

"You won't," he tells the empty phone booth, smirking. "Soon you're all going to go up in those flames you love so much."

Walking quickly enough to not be seen, but not so fast as to draw attention he hides behind the fence of the neighbouring house.

The truck stops with a violent jerk. The Captain is known for his quick, skilled driving, gentleness isn't a priority and usually doesn't matter since fire trucks get road priority anyway.

The home is a Western-style townhome painted in shades of dark red and black, like dying embers.

Teru laughs at the open door, and he and the Captain charge in without a second thought but Tetchou pauses. He looks at Jouno, who's also stopped beside him. They exchange agreement with their eyes. Something is off here.

"A trap?" Tetchou's gaze asks

"No, they'd surely know better, and whatever it is we'll be ready."

"Yeah," Tetchou says aloud and they walk in.

The place is filled with books, in stacks of all heights, some leaning precariously from heights rapper than the Captain, others steady and sure up to the ceiling.

As soon as they're all in the main room they hear something that isn't usually heard in houses marked for burning. Never, actually. Footsteps. Soft and purposeful.

'Huh? What kind of nutcase stays inside? Normally they're out in the garden or whatever. They do know what we're here to do, right?'

Tetchou looks to Jouno again but for once Jouno has no answer, appearing just as confused as Tetchou. Tetchou notes that the expression is similar to a child's. Cute.

"Hello, Firemen! Welcome to my last ever lecture. Yes, that is a confession. I've been giving literature lectures in secret for years now, and don't try to find my students, the only record of their names is inside my very brain. Now that you're all here I can say a proper goodbye."

"What the hell?" Teru mutters, "What is this nut case going on about? Lectures?"

"Ignore him Teru, he's spouting nonsense, he needs help. EVERYONE! GET TO BURNING. LET'S FINISH THIS QUICK!"

Despite the Captain's booming command only he and Teru start to move, setting up the hose as normal.

"Are they planning to burn him alive?" Tetchou asks, suddenly unsure.

"No, of course not, he'll leave. Come on, go and convince him. You're good at that, at people I mean." Jouno said, but Tetchou swears that his voice sounds less crisp than normal. Surely Tetchou isn't the only one to notice . . .

It's true, normally he is better at emotions, but he can't make himself move. His feet are frozen in place as he stares at the man standing against the bannister as if it is a podium.

He clears his throat, smiling, "Poverty can be defined in many ways. Lack of money is one definition, true. But to me, the worst, and sadly most common poverty is lack of knowledge. 'Poverty is the mother of crime. If people are poor, they lose all sense of shame, and behave appallingly.' I'm afraid that that's what has happened to our little society. Without books, we've sunken into shallow stupidity filled with nothing but violence and the endless chasing of placebo euphoria." (A/N: Quote from The Honjin Murders)

He pulls a book from the stack next to him. It sways and tilts but doesn't fall. Then he opens it and begins to scan the page. The cover reads Death on Gokumon Island.

"Ah, here it is: 'There was the whole collection of Arthur Conan Doyle, Maurice Leblanc's Lupin series, and every translated work that the publishers Hakubunkan and Heibonsha had ever released. Then there was the Japanese section: it began with nineteenth-century novels by Ruiko Kuroiwa and also featured Edogawa Ranpo, Fuboku Kozakai, Saburo Koga, Udaru Oshita, Takataro Kigi, Juza Unno, Mushitaro Oguri all crammed in together. And then as well as Japanese translations of Western novels, there were the original, untranslated works of Ellery Queen, Dickson Carr, Freeman Wills Crofts and Agatha Christie, etc. etc. etc. It was a magnificent sight: an entire library of detective novels.'" The man suddenly bursts out in laughter.

"Why are you laughing?" Tetchou manages to ask. He finds himself not wanting to interrupt the man.

"Ah, it's just that I realised after I said it that 'an entire library full of detective novels' must be a terrifying thought for you Firemen, and that's funny to me so it made me laugh."

"Anyway, your friends have got everything almost all set up now, so I'd better get to my point, eh? Ah, how lovely this day is. The sun and clouds, so beautiful. I wanted to wait until night, to have my death under the full moon and stars, but I was so afraid of running out of time. . . ."

'Death?' Tetchou wonders. He scans the area, there are no bottles or pills and no rope. 'Is he going to jump down?'

By the time he sees the matches attached to the man's sleeve, it's too late. But the fire doesn't start with him. At first, there's a small crackle. Jouno hears it before he does, then Tetchou hears the roar, as the flame, as if appearing from thin air, from nowhere.

"EVERYONE OUT! THE PLACE IS GOING DOWN! LEAVE THE GUY!"

Tetchou doesn't move. He can't stop staring.

This fire is different. Not strength and power, but beauty and grace. Unlike any fire he's started it doesn't rush the whole room, instead it travels an intricate path snaking along the walls almost as if someone set a fuse. As the house burns the man on the second floor smiles. He looks relieved. Fulfilled. Just as that boy from before had.

He can't leave him.

'I can't leave him. That's murder!'

"We can't leave him!"

"We have to! Come on!" Jouno pulls him towards the door, but Tetchou is larger and doesn't budge.

"I hate regret. So I've done whatever I've wanted to do. Up until now, it's been a satisfying life. But now... I've been given a time limit. Before then, I have to complete the ultimate mystery. Goodbye Mushi . . . I've loved you all this time . . ."

As he says these words the trail of fire reaches him, then jumps from the bannister to his arm, which he'd rested upon. A perfect plan. The flames consume him and then begin to take the rest of the house.

A single book flaa down, pages fluttering softy as it cascades toward its violent end. If he can't save its owner then can't he at least spare this?

"Yuujirou! Yuujirou! . . . Tetchou, what the hell are you doing? We can't save him, he's DEAD! We need to RUN!"

The use of his given name jars him out of the trance. He allows Jouno to pull him out of the burning house just as the beams begin to crumble. Teru and the Captain are in the truck and they shout for Tetchou and Jouno to follow. They both ignore it, the shouts fading into the rolling flames. Jouno stays with Tetchou in the garden and together stand and watch the fire eat away the house. They watch as it falls to pieces.

The heat of the midday sun and fire make it nearly unbearably but even so, they stay.

'Why do I feel so sad? Is it sadness I'm feeling, I don't even know.'

What comes out is, "Why is it so beautiful?"

Jouno leans almost imperceptibly closer and whispers the quietest Tetchou's ever heard him, "Because this fire was natural."

Mere metres away, Musihitarou Oguri falls down sobbing.

'It's my fault. I set the match, and I lit the fuse. I killed Seishi. I love him and I killed him. . . . I'm a murderer. Is this what it feels like? How do the others stand it?'

When the house is nothing but a pile of soot and ash, Jouno walks Tetchou back to the truck. The Captain glares and Teru gives a suspicious look. Despite their apparent nonchalance nobody talks on the way back to the station

The rest of the shift is silent and uneventful. When Tetchou can't stand it anymore he heaves in the sink but he missed lunch due to the call so there's nothing to come up. It leaves his throat drier than before. From the restroom, he can what Jouno and the Captain arguing.

"He's always been attached to you, so get a handle on him."

"I don't like the way you said that. We are co-workers that is all."

"So? Fix him, get him out of his silly rut. He's a great fireman, we need him."

"Captain, he just witnessed a man's death in front of him knowing he could do nothing about it. Give him a day off."

"The rest of us are fine. He's strong. He can manage."

"Sir, with respect. No. He is strong, yes, that's why you like him, yes. But his world is black and white. Yuujirou's entire world is justice, he wants to save people by punishing them so they don't commit offences again, to better our society. He wants to save them from the insanity that is books, he wants to rehabilitate them in facilities, not kill them. He doesn't feel guilty for the death of a bibliophile, he feels guilty for his failure. He's in his head, he'll be no use to anyone tomorrow. Give him a day . . . sir."

A pause. Then a throat clearing in slight embarrassment "Very well, a half shift off will have to do."

Jouno's footsteps.

'He . . . he knows me so well. When did we get to know each other so well, we're only co-workers (and that's all we'll ever be) we're not close. I only consider him my friend because he's the only one I really talk to, the only one I can talk to. I thought we barely knew each other. If that's so, why did he defend me?'

He spends the rest of the remaining time on the shift in a daze, hardly hearing as the Captain formally announces that he has a partial day off tomorrow. He nods, and thanks him robotically, promising he'll be in by 16:00 tomorrow.

His walk home is spent listlessly placing one foot in front of the other. He notes that the sounds he heard earlier are gone again and that he misses them.

'Where did they go? Or was it me that was blind all this time?'

That's the only coherent thought his brain forms before he undresses and falls into bed.

Perfect crimes leave everyone unhappy.

Evene Fire Is Defeated By the Rain [Suegiku AU]

Heavily inspired by Fahrenheit 451, but with some major plot changes and obviously it's BSD characters. And my first time writting suegiku, yay!

#bungou stray dogs #bungo stray dogs #bsd #suegiku #saihiro #tetchouno #bsd au #bungou stray dogs au #bungo stray dogs au #au #fahrenheit 451 au #bsd fahrenheit 451 au #fahrenheit 451 #bungo stray dogs alternate universe #bungou stray dogs alternate universe #bsd alternate universe #alternate universe

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knockyasocksoff2022 · 2 days

Text

your name is my name to

1,713 Words

(A/N: the lowercase letters are intentional)

All day, lugging equipment. The hose, heavy with innumerable gallons of kerosene, the ladder to reach the tops of attics (just in case any texts had been shoved into the tight nooks and crannies), the flamethrower. Not to mention the weight of the fireproof uniform all firemen wear to protect themselves from the flames they spread.

It's easy. Turn the dial, turn in a slow circle and spread the flammable liquid everywhere. Then let gravity drop the lit match. But Suehiro Tetchou is never more at ease than when he's going home.

'Going? What about while at home, surely that's more relaxing?' You must ask.

Yes, home is quiet. Too quiet. Eerily silent, so much so that his ears ring.

"Why don't you just get a wife, or better yet, give in and buy a parlour wall if you're so lonely? You only have to pay the cost of your own living, it can't hurt your wallet that much." the man he'd describe as his best friend, Jouno Saigiku asked him when he brought up the strange feeling the silence created in him.

Yet nothing compares to the mind-calming motion of walking, especially when done alone, near midnight. When he walks his mind goes blank, a fresh snowbank, no longer tainted by the hot glow of fire and flame. In this empty white space, he hears it. The rustle of a child's footsteps. A sound he hasn't heard in a long time.

He stops and turns his head. The sidewalk is empty. There's a tapping from behind him. He spins quickly, holding his lighter out like a sword in front of him.

A blond boy wearing a worn shirt and faded overalls stands before him, smiling. His gaze seems to follow the fire. His eyes seem like small fires themselves.

'No, that isn't right,' Tetchou thinks, but can't remember for the life of him where he's seen that kind of glow before.

The boy holds leaves, still with stems as if picked straight from a tree, in his hand. They sway in the gentle night breeze.

Tetchou is absolutely sure he's never seen him before. He would've noticed, surely.

The boy's smile seems to grow as Tetchou takes in the details of him.

"What are you doing out this late? You're not from around here, are you?" Tetchou asks him. He swears he can see smudges of long dried-in dirt on the knees of the boy's overalls.

The boy just keeps smiling. He's not intimidated in the slightest, ignoring the question and extending his hand. "Hi! I'm Miyazawa Kenji. How do you do?"

The name stirs something in Tetchou, even more so than the formal greeting. A memory soaked in heat, but not from flame, from sun. A sun-soaked memory, and it's gone before he can fully grasp it. It leaves Tetchou more disappointed than he's felt in a long while.

'What a silly thing.' he thinks, shaking his head. "Like the author?" Tetchou asks sceptically. He must have seen the name among other contraband in a few of the houses he's burnt. 'Yes, that has to be it.'

A little disappointed at the long pause, the boy drops his hand. The bright smile returns to his face quickly. "Yup! What's your name?"

He should say Yuujirou. That's what everyone he knows calls him. Saying his given name hardly makes any sense. But for some reason, it feels like the right thing to do.

'Well, I'll probably never see this kid again.'

After a second's hesitation, he shrugs and answers. "Suehiro Tetchou."

"Ooh! So you're named after an author too! We're like twins!"

Tetchou flinches back at the old-fashioned word. "I am?"

"Yup-" The boy snaps his mouth closed. Looking nervous, his voice is shaky when he corrects himself. "At least, I'm pretty sure . . ."

He isn't a good liar. But despite the almost admission to having interacted with books, Tetchou can't bring himself to care. He knows he should. Not caring is a crime and his next stop should be this boy's home to search it.

'Ah, but I'm so tired. Who cares anyway? He's just some kid. Kids experiment. He'll grow out of this. What's he gonna do in the meantime?' Another piece of information is far more important in his mind. 'That must be why they call me Yuujirou.'

It feels, to him, like a discovery, far more important than it should be.

'Suehiro Tetchou.' He hears the name in his mind as if he has never heard it before.

'How didn't I know this before? How didn't I know something so important about myself as my name. . . . oh, well he's hardly important, only some old sod, only an author. Of course, I didn't know him.' Still, it feels like some tragic oversight on his part. And there he is, using the old word "Author".

Outwardly his face remains neutral, the only word leaving his lips, "Interesting."

At this Kenji's face lights up again. Like a child just out of the womb, still in delight of the world.

"Why are you so happy?" Tetchou asks, thoroughly confused.

The boy giggles. "Because I've made a fireman think."

Tetchou's eyes widen.

The boy extends his hand once again.

Shocked, Tetchou takes it. The boy has a surprisingly firm grip. Firm, but kind, and undeterred by the lawyers of soot that Tetchou can never truly manage to scrub away.

When they let go, he sees that the boy's hand is now black with the soot to match. Unbothered, by both the soot itself and what it means about the man he has just shaken hands with, he wipes it on his overalls.

With a last, almost triumphant looking smile, he darts off, disappearing into the brush.

Tetchou should be wondering where he lives, but he doesn't. Instead, he stands, for a very long time, staring off and imagining he can still see the boy's form in the distance.

When the night grows impossibly cold, he's forced inside. Back into his house that offers no warmth, only a different, arguably more chilling kind of cold.

As he sits alone, staring at his gas fireplace, tucked stately behind glass, like an animal in a cage, it occurs to him how different fires look from each other. There is something gentler about this fire than the ones he makes a living setting, still, it has an intensity that keeps him from placing his hands too near it.

There's another type of fire too, one found above distant lands. Happy lands. Promise lands. He tries not to think about it. Most of the time he succeeds, pressing it so far down he can imagine it being crushed into a mere fossil.

Not tonight. Tonight is too quiet. Too cold. Too lonely.

That old word comes back to him, like a hug from a stranger. You've never met them, and will likely never do so again, but they've seen you upset and are here now to comfort you. A shared experience, a momentary convergence. The feeling of having touched someone. More meaningful than any single night of passion Tetchou's had with the nameless and faceless women he's encountered.

Author: (Noun) /ˈôTHər/ - a writer of a book, article, or report.

But it's more than that. It's different from being just a writer. A writer is one who writes. Tetchou's neighbour, old Mrs. Fuji, is a writer every week when she notes down her grocery list. But an author is one who writes something meaningful. The word gives validity to the action. It acknowledges that written works are something that humans need.

'Wait . . . what? I can't- I can't be thinking things like that!'

To put it out of his head Tetchou thinks of the next thing that pops into his head.

'That boy.'

'That boy. I saw something I haven't seen before . . . He looked happy. Not the kind of happiness when one buys something new, a temporary high. Something you get stuck in an endless cycle chasing. No, he looked . . . fulfilled. He looked like he belongs in the promise land.'

And it's at that moment he remembers what the glow he's seen earlier in the boy's eyes was.

He hasn't heard the name in a long while now, but he remembers it as clear as the moon at night. How ironic that they have fire in their name when they seek not to hurt anyone at all.

Fireflies.

His hair looked as if it was caught in a sunbeam despite the only light coming from the nearly new moon, but his eyes had the glow of fireflies on a pitch-black night. He lit the world around him so much so that it seemed as if he himself had no shadow.

Now these words echo, filling the usually empty home.

"Why are you so happy?"

A giggle. Pure joy. Pure triumph. "Because I've made a fireman think."

Upon second listening, the words finally sink in, leaving Tetchou in shock.

'. . . He made me think. What an interesting way to put it. I'm always thinking, am I not? About work mostly, that's true, but I am not an empty shell.' he thinks a bit defensively.

Unwilling to admit to himself that he knows he does not think as much as he should

'I am simply happiest when my mind is blank. And Bugs are nothing of importance anyhow. But still, I haven't thought so thoroughly in a while now. And the sky, sun and moon are certainly important. The anchors of this universe. So important to me, and all the other humans, but how about to others out there? What do they think? Do they think about us at all? Or do we matter less to them than they do to us? Little dots in a sky full of more little dots. . . . Ah, here I go, off wondering about dumb things. Perhaps I do need a parlour, to teach me some sense. My mother would never stand for my senselessness. My mother, my mother, my mother. I always do that. This is why I don't sit still. I remember now, it's because I can never focus when I sit still.'

He forces himself to be calm, erase it all, think of white, nothing but white, white, white and more white. He does not notice that he was calm before. Now alone in his white world, he stays trapped, unable to sleep until just before dawn.

Evene Fire Is Defeated By the Rain [Suegiku AU]

Heavily inspired by Fahrenheit 451, but with some major plot changes and obviously it's BSD characters. And my first time writting suegiku, yay!

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knockyasocksoff2022 · 2 days

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Evene Fire Is Defeated By the Rain [Suegiku AU]

Heavily inspired by Fahrenheit 451, but with some major plot changes and obviously it's BSD characters. And my first time writting suegiku, yay!

(A/N: This is the fic mentioned in this post

https://www.tumblr.com/knockyasocksoff2022/749125085548429312/yo-im-wheezing-rn-in-the-good-way-my-lungs?source=share )

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knockyasocksoff2022 · 2 days

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Run Away, Runaway

1,569 Words

Dazai's Perspective

~ 15 Years After the Incident ~

"I'm 25, I can do what I wish."

I hang up before my aunt gets a chance to respond. It's bittersweet but mostly sweet. She's the woman who's kept me prisoner for most of my life, always afraid for my safety, she hid me from the world, using my mother's illness as an excuse.

"I may lose my sister but I will not lose my nephew."

And then when my mother did pass she made the tragic mistake of willing the responsibility for my care to my wretched aunt, my father joined in and it became

"Your mother wants you to stay safe, she wanted me to protect you." and "I lost my wife, I will not lose my son as well."

I was pulled from school and given tutors. My aunt took my mobile and shoved it in her jewelry safe. For the first month, it was dinging nonstop, and then she made a big point of blocking Chuuya. I tried to fight her, but it was no use.

I only ever had a flip phone after that, and even that she could track.

Now I place it on the floor and take great join in stomping on it until it is well and truly dead.

The rest of my things, the rest of my life, fit into three small suitcases. Clothes, toiletries, and my many books. The only possession that stands apart is my violin in it's case. Inside it is the instrument, two bows, and tucked in beside them, my last photo of Nakahara Chuuya.

In the small rectangle we smile, his arm thrown lazily over my shoulder, red hair brushing my cheek, grey eyes bright with happiness. Suddenly I feel cold, but I ignore it, leaving the sad beige hotel room behind and heading to the train station.

I'm not sure where I should go, only that it need be far, far away from here. As I board the train that little rectangle of Chuuya fills my mind, so I ride it to the end of the line, to Ihatovo.

Watching the sun rise from the rain fills me with a sort of sick feeling so I close my eyes. When I do, I swear I can feel someone leaning their head against me, but I know I'm the only one in the car.

When the last disembarking announcement chimes, I get up, lugging all my things behind me and head onto the platform.

The station is open-air, looking out over the orchards and rolling hills. The sun is high in the sky and the sun is warm on my skin. Most of all . . . it's quiet. No aunties yelling, nor cars rushing, or horns honking.

Then, footsteps.

"Hello, sir! Would you like some help?"

I turn at the voice. It's a young boy. His hair is golden yellow, like hay in the sun, his eyes are amber, and his gently tanned skin is marked by freckles on his round cheeks. He can't be more than 9. The same as I was last time I was here. Something about him looks familiar . . .

"Thank you. What's your name?"

"Kenji. Miyazawa Kenji. What's yours?"

Miyazawa. Like the market, we went to that one time. I shake my head, snapping myself out of it.

"Dazai. That is my name. Osamu Dazai."

"Cool. I can take your things to the Inn. Are you moving or just visiting, Dazai-san?"

"I'd like to move if there are any houses available."

"Well, most people what have been here for generations, like my family, and we don't get many new people so the only houses are some abandoned storehouses that were destroyed by the big floor four years ago. It took out one of our orchards nearby too."

"I see. I don't need much, just a roof over my head. How much is it going for?"

"Going for?"

"How much does it cost?"

"I don't know. I'd guess maybe a cow. It is a big plot of land, but it's also close to the flood zone."

Right, they barter here. Surely someone takes cash. Or I'll have to buy a cow.

"Yes, of course, but who owns the land?"

"Nobody, we all own it together."

"So if I did want to buy it, a vote would be held?"

"I'm not sure, we haven't had anyone new since Ozaki-san and her daughter, and that was last year when I was visiting the city for a farming exposition. But I think the council would let you stay as long as you can contribute something, even if you don't have a cow. What's your job."

"I've played violin and piano since I was very young. I have a writing degree, and a music degree centered around solo performances and composition. If that means anything to you."

"So you write books? Neat!" he pumps a fist in the air, smiling.

It's now that I notice that he's carrying all my bags effortlessly, but no point questioning it now.

"Yes and poems, I haven't published anything yet though."

"That's okay. I'm sure you will one day soon. You could still give music lessons. . . . The last music teacher in the village passed four years ago from the flood." The boy looks down at the dirt road. " . . . He was a really nice guy. He taught my two older siblings Seiroko and Toshi."

"I see. I'm sorry."

"It's okay. We're here now!" Kenji nods to the small house in front of us. A woman with brownish-grey hair steps out, smiling. She wears a puffy-sleeved blouse, a straw hat with a bow, a long brown skirt, and western-style rancher boots.

"Hello, welcome to the Inn. How was your journey?"

"Good."

"That's good. Where are you from?"

"I'm from Yokohama."

"My, what a trek. Are you visiting family?"

"No, I intend to move here, but I'd like a room in your Inn for now. Do you take cash?"

"How wonderful, and yes, I do. I hope you can find peace here." She says it as if she somehow knows what I've been through. Kenji gets my bags again as the woman leads me to a quaint room.

I thank her and hand her the appropriate amount of bills.

"Mrs Fitzgerald is very wise." Kenji explains, "She lost her eldest daughter a while ago to illness. Her parents sent her here because she was very sad and stopped taking care of herself. Her husband works in the big city and comes back every weekend. They live on the west edge of the village."

"Ah, well, she seems better now."

"She is. She moved here three years ago but it took her a year to come out of her house. I'm so glad she did because she's really nice. Now she helps out at school and makes and fixes clothes. She has lots of kids too, and they're all fun to play with."

"I'm happy for her then."

"So am I, well, I'll leave you to unpack. If you need me, just follow the signs for our farm."

"I will."

With one last smile, he leaves. He's so positive, perhaps I should try to be like that. I doubt it would work.

I don't bother to fully unpack, instead, I drop my bags and head back out (there's no lock on the door, but I get the sense that's only because this village is so safe) to check out the storehouses in question.

After a 10-minute walk, I reach them. They're four evenly spaced small buildings not even 3 x 3 metres with a tree in the centre. Still, I'll take it.

A month later A modest house stands where the storehouses once were. The entire village pitched in to build it and it was before I knew it. Now, I have a job at the local school teaching music.

All of the students are 14 or under because there's no high school in the village. They have to go to the neighbouring town for that and then to the cities for university.

The town has quite a collection of people, each with their own oddities, myself included I suppose. There's the farm, the school, the bakery that's also a butcher, and the Inn and that's it. Most people have at least two jobs. It's not so bad. It's not bad at all, but nothing external has anything to do with the grey emptiness inside me.

Sometimes I find it hard to fathom that I still remember him after all this time when I find it difficult to recall what I ate for breakfast. How does he take up so much space in my mind? It's unfair. I'll think I'm fine and then I'll see something that connects back to him in the vaguest way possible and it'll hit me like my gravity's been increased.

It's not even that I still love him, I just miss him. I just miss what could've been. I miss having the option to love. I don't know, not anymore. I wasn't very stable before, but the years of isolation stripped away all that was left of my sense of reality and left me floating in this endless grey abyss without a map or anything to hold onto. It was unfair of me, but I attached myself to Chuuya, he became my anchor, the one thing holding me to Earth. Then the anchor was slashed, and I was set adrift.

"Get over yourself," I whisper to the quiet morning, shaking my head as I splash water from the pump outside of the school on my face. My novel is almost complete, but right now I have a music class to conduct.

Through Glass Walls | Soukoku

He sighs, leaning his head on my shoulder. "If I asked you to . . . Would you run away with me?"

"Yes."

Dazai Osamu and Nakahara Chuuya are in love.

Dazai convinces Chuuya to sneak out one day and takes him to the beautiful small town of Ihatovo. Chuuya is sure this is the best night of his life and Dazai agrees until he passes out and has to be taken to the hospital.

The doctors won't tell Chuuya what happened. That's the last time he sees Dazai.

~ 15 years Later ~

DAZAI OSAMU: has been hidden from the worldever since the indcident at age 15, by his aunt and father. But he's done with that! Against their orders and probably good sense he moves to the small town of Ihatovo to live a life he can enjoy. This includes reading depressing novels, attempting suicide, playing his violin, and eating more snow crab than anyone should. It does NOT include a certain ginger with an intense passion for life.

NAKAHARA CHUYA: now a doctor who left his stressful life in Tokyo behind for something more relaxing. Ihatovo was just supposed to be a stop on his journey but the familiar face of his old classmate or rather enemy Dazai Osamu draws him to the quaint little town. Chuya hates Dazai, because he left him. Dazai just disappeared and never spoke to him again. If he saw Dazai on the street he'd just walk right by.

He can't ignore his curiosity over what happened to his old love, but is it more than just curiosity?

He should at least make amends since he's here, right?

When Chuya opens up his medical practice Dazai becomes his most frequent patient. He comes in with everything from small coughs to suspiciously even cuts. Chuya wonders about his ex-classmate and as the two grow closer things are bound to get interesting.

#bungou stray dogs #bungo stray dogs #bsd #soukoku #bsd soukoku #bsd skk #skk #bsd au #bungou stray dogs au #bungo stray dogs au #bungo stray dogs alternate universe #bungou stray dogs alternate universe #bsd alternate universe #alternate universe #au

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knockyasocksoff2022 · 2 days

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Prolouge

2,403 Words

Chuuya's Perspective:

Breathing hard, we step onto the train heading out of the city. We didn't really need to run per se but it was just too much fun. And I don't regret it now even as we're slumped down in our train seats or as the conductor raises his eyebrow while punching our tickets. I don't care.

Why am I here, covered in sweat and out of breath on a train bound for nowhere at this ungodly hour in the morning? It was Osamu's idea, of course, it was, the bastard. He called me up at 3:00 AM. Damn insomniac, I love him.

[Flashback]

'rrrRRRING!!!"

"Fuck, ah!" I feel around my bed for my phone to shut it up before the whole house hears it. Checking the caller ID I see it's Mackerel

"Damn you!" I whisper, "My mom's gonna wake up and whoop my ass if she hears you!"

He just cackles, I hurry to cover the phone speaker with my pillow.

"I was just thinking that we should ditch today."

"What? You had this thought at 3:00 AM? And what about Mr. Fukuzawa's history test?"

"Yes I did, and fuck Mr. Fukuzawa's test."

He knows the sigh that escapes my lips means yes.

"Okay, what do we have to do?"

"We sneak out, get train tickets and then the rest is the surprise." He laughs again.

"I hate you, I hope you know that." my tone is stupidly sweet.

"You don't." he hangs up

[End of Flashback]

Before long the train is barreling into the still dark morning.

Osamu has refused to tell me where we're going, even going so far as to hide the tickets from my view. I don't mind.

We're silent as we watch the sunrise from the train windows. The yellow and orange light filters in as we disembark.

The sign above the station door reads 'Ihatovo'. I've never heard of this place, but the place hardly matters as long as I'm with Osamu.

Before lunch, we explored the town's small shops and landmarks. The sun is high in the sky and both our stomachs rumble.

I shake the Polaroids that Osamu took of us with his small camera out and watch the images appear. "No phones." he said, "Phones are trackable. My mum has a way she can see where my device is, I left mine in my locker at school yesterday so when she checks I'll be exactly where I'm supposed to be."

"Won't she know?"

"No, she doesn't check after school when I'm home. And if she asks when I come home today I'll just say that I left it by mistake."

"Clever. My mum doesn't really care. Any food around here?"

"Yeah, there's a farmer's market near here," he replies, starting to lead the way.

The place is a little past the town limits but it's beautiful. The sign reads "Miyazawa Family Market" with little drawings of cows and other farm animals that look like they were made by a young child. It's charming.

There's a stall with homemade dishes, each one looking lovingly packed. I watch as the neighbours exchange other goods. Do they barter here? That could be a problem since we don't have anything to trade.

I walk up to the woman working in the stall. She has golden eyes and fair hair and as we draw closer I see that she's pregnant.

"Um, excuse me, ma'am, do you take cash?"

"Ah, you're from out of town. Welcome to Ihatovo! We're glad you came. We don't usually take cash, but I'll make an exception for you two darlings. What would you like?"

I give her our order and she nods, turning to face away from us. I notice for the first time that there's a boy in the stall, he shares the woman's features. Her son probably.

"Yoshi, sweetie, go bring the new batch from your grandmother, and the lockbox." She turns back to us, "That's my son, he's only six, but very helpful. It's so rare we get customers who pay in cash. How are you liking our village so far?"

"It's great."

The blond boy comes back with a tray of food and a red lockbox.

She hands us the food and I give cash from my wallet which she puts in the box.

"Please return the tray when you're done. Thank you for stopping by, but shouldn't you boys be in school?"

"We're ditching!" Osamu proclaims cheerfully.

I thank her quickly and pull Osmau away before he can make a scene. "Ugh, don't tell everyone!" I jab him in the ribs.

He jabs me back harder. "It's fine, it's not like anyone here knows us. I picked it specifically so we wouldn't run into anyone we know. Don't you trust me?" He has that teasing grin and I know I don't need to answer, but I do anyway.

"Of course."

We wander for a bit and end up on a hill under a tree. It's high enough and the town is small enough that we can see the farm's fields stretching out all around us.

The food is delicious and when we're finished we sit in a beautiful silence, watching the gentle breeze sway the grass and crops.

Osamu sighs, leaning his head on my shoulder. I look over at him. His eyes which normally look coal black are a soft brown in the afternoon sun.

"If I asked you to . . . would you run away with me?"

The word forms with no hesitation."Yes."

And we're leaning towards each other, our first kiss each. Soft, warm, lighting a small fire in me. It's not bad. Not bad at all.

And then there's blood.

A small trickle at first, then more. A trail of blood leaks from his nose like he's been punched. I flinch back. He laughs, wiping it away with the back of his hand, flicking some of the blood onto his shirt.

"What the hell?"

Osamu shakes his head, "Dumb Chbi kissed me too hard. His snout knocked my nose and made me bleed. You owe me grilled mackerel for . . . this . . ." his voice peters out and he's just staring for a few seconds, then he starts blinking, as if something's in his eyes. After a moment, he sinks down, twisting and jerking robotically, eyes rolling back, still blinking erratically.

"Osa!"

Then he begins to shake, bleeding more. It doesn't stop. I feel around in my pocket but my phone is under my pillow, exactly where I left it. He needs help.

"It's okay. This is fine." I mutter to myself, sprinting back towards the small town square. I think I saw a payphone there.

Sure enough, the rusty old thing stands right next to the tiny post office. I put the last of my coins in and dial #119.

As soon as I hang up, I sprint back for Osamu. He lies still limp on the hill, shaking now.

Don't panic, don't panic, don't panic. Panic makes it worse, so much worse.

This damn small town is so far out that I know they won't be here for at least a half hour or more if they speed. There has to be a clinic somewhere. I spot it easily, a bright blue building with a cross and the word DOCTOR on it.

The doctor must see us coming (we'd be hard to miss, with me dragging a bloody-nosed boy) and she opens the door, looking shocked.

"Come on, let's get him to the back."

When the ambulance shows up the EMTs ask questions about why we're here in the middle of a school day, but I ignore them. It doesn't matter. The real hell will come when our parents find out.

I can't stop straight at him. They did something to temporarily stop the bleeding and now he lies still and pale as a corpse on the stretcher. The only thing that keeps me sane as we hurtle toward the city hospital is the steady beeping of his heart monitor.

The ambulance stops suddenly and I know we must be at Yokohama General. I try to follow as they take Dazai off somewhere but they don't let me, instead, shunting me out to the waiting room. In the waiting room are the three people I want to see least in the world right now.

Someone must have called them while I zoned out in the ambulance.

The Dazai Family. Mr Dazai Gen'emon, Mrs Dazai Tane, and Osamu's overbearing aunt, his mum's older sister, Ms Tsushima Kiye. They're rich and influential, and have ears everywhere, of course, they heard so fast.

It's too late to hide now, they've already seen me.

Even worse, my parents are sure to be close behind them, seeing as my father, Dr. Nakahara Kensuke works here as a surgeon. It'll only be a matter of time before he gets word of the incident.

I wince as Ms. Tushisima marches up to me.

I know a greeting would only make things worse so I say nothing at all. (I have a suspicion if I did try to talk I'd sound like a dying chihuahua.)

"Nakahara Chuuya! You scheming brat! What did you do to my precious Osamu?!"

"Ma'am, I didn't-"

"First you convince him to abandon his education and ditch school, and then he gets sick. It's all your fault. Your father is a respectable man, I don't know what freak accident happened for him to have you. What do you have to say for yourself?! Hmm?" She has her hands on her hips, giving me the stink eye only an angry auntie can.

"Ma'am, first let me tell you that neither of us had any idea that this would happen. I don't want him hurt any more than you do. He was fine this morning, in fact, he is the one who came up with the whole thing."

"He- How dare you? How dare you say such slanderous things about my nephew! He would never be so reckless, never in a million years. You are like mould, blackening everything around you. Like a black hole sucking away everything good. A negative influence. If I were your father I'd be so ashamed I wouldn't be able to look at you!"

I take a breath to quell the rising anger. "I am telling the truth. It wasn't my intention to get him hurt. I love him."

And just like that, it's out.

She looks at me as if I've just grown a third leg or an extra pair of arms. Then comes the disgust.

"You- You FREAK, corrupting my Osamu with your perverted intentions. What have you done?" She grabs my collar, stronger than she looks. We're the same height but I feel as if she's metres taller, "Did you touch him?"

"N-no. I swear it. It wasn't like that, we're only 15. On my life, I swear! On my mother and father."

It's pathetic. I shouldn't be defending myself to this homophobic bitch, but here I am begging like some stray dog. I don't want to lose Osamu.

But she doesn't even yell.

She just shakes her head, turns away, and mutters "It must be that awful sterile mother. Can't even have children, what a disappointment. Not even hers, a half-foreign monstrosity. I thought he'd be different but I guess he couldn't escape her filth. I told Kensuke that children made in labs aren't right. I knew he'd turn out to have some freakish mutation, we just couldn't see it before, but here it is now, all out in the open for us to see."

I'm like a kettle, and all I hear is the shrill ringing in my ears that means I'm going to boil over. I lunge for her.

"You bitch! Listen here, you bit—"

Something grabs me from behind, firm and inescapable hands holding me back.

"Son. Stop."

My father.

I wish I felt guilty. I don't. Instead, I feel shame. He caught me fighting after I promised to be better.

He turns me around, glaring over my head at the Dazai family, then sets his eyes on me, his gaze a mixture of disappointment, sadness, confusion and understanding.

"I'm sorry," I whisper, my cheeks suddenly wet.

"I know. Let's go to my office."

The walk isn't far, but I feel like everyone is staring at me even though I know they're not.

In his office he sits me down in one of the armchairs, sitting beside me in the other one instead of at his desk.

"That wasn't the proper way to handle that situation, Chu."

I look down, my trouser leg still has Osmau's blood on it. "I know."

"I know why you did it, but your mother wouldn't want you acting like that, and I don't either."

I kick his desk and then regret it. "I'm not going to apologise."

He puts a hand on my knee, stilling it, and forcing me to look him in the eyes. "I won't make you. But you must tell me everything that happened today."

When I finish he nods, looking thoughtful.

"It sounds like something caused him to have a seizure. It might take a few days to find what the exact cause was if this is the first time."

I don't know what else to do so I nod.

"Do you want to go home?" he asks. He knows the same thing as me, there's no way they'll let me see him.

"No, I want to see him."

"Chu," he says my name with a warning, worried on my behalf.

"I have to try, what kind of . . . friend would I be if I didn't." I find myself choking over the words.

"Alright, but let me come with you."

"Dad."

"Chuuya."

"Fine."

They won't let me see him. Even though I hadn't expected them to it still hurts.

Osamu doesn't show up to school the next day (I get it though), and I serve detention alone. Dad says I was lucky to not get expelled.

Osamu does show up all week. (Fair.)

Or the next. Where is he?

Or the week after that. I ask around with my classmates and the teachers, but nothing. It's as if he's disappeared from Earth entirely. Even his social media pages haven't been updated. In fact, he's blocked me. What? Does he think that was my fault somehow?

After another month goes by, I stop texting.

Yuan smiles wider every day as she sits next to me, but every time I remember the word when Mr Endo said he wasn't a student here anymore. "Oh, good riddance. Lol."

Every day I think a little more that I'll never see Dazai Osamu ever again.

I need to get used to it, I have to. But the loneliness eats away at my very soul. It's unbearable, so I turn it into something else. Something that he probably doesn't deserve but that feels a lot better than this crushing sadness.

Anger.

Through Glass Walls | Soukoku

He sighs, leaning his head on my shoulder. "If I asked you to . . . Would you run away with me?"

"Yes."

Dazai Osamu and Nakahara Chuuya are in love.

The doctors won't tell Chuuya what happened. That's the last time he sees Dazai.

~ 15 years Later ~

He can't ignore his curiosity over what happened to his old love, but is it more than just curiosity?

He should at least make amends since he's here, right?

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