A Melody We Were Never Supposed To Hear

Would've, Could've, Should've

Taylor Swift

Some lyrics were changed 

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Chuuya POV

The conversation with Dazai replayed in my mid like a broken record as I started in on what would be my second night without the bandage waste around. The whole track buzzed through, starting from my question and ending with the retreating figure in the distance as Dazai walked away. As I didn't stop him. Somehow the knowledge that I could've done something made his leaving hurt so much more than it ever should have. 

The longer that he was gone, the more his words started to make sense. The timing of it all had been to great even for a stroke of good luck. Oda, the permit, Mimic, Dazai's leaving, all of it. It all moved too smoothly, like clock that only could've been made by human hands.

The hurt in Dazai's eyes had been what made me question myself the most and leave the warmth of the house in the dead of the night. Privately, even when we'd been together, I'd always wondered if the other man was even capable of feeling hurt. I'd finally gotten my answer after all of these years, I'd been the one to put it there.

I knocked on the thin apartment door just loud enough that those inside could hear but none of the other Agency brats would be bothered by it and come looking. It opened a moment later, bringing the rich scent of alcohol with it, but as soon as it had opened, it'd all but slammed closed once more. The only reason that it didn't was because my foot was in the doorway as I'd already expected this exact read to come.

Pushing inside, I waited for Dazai to look at me, but knew that I deserved it when he didn't.

The other man had a grouchy look on his face as he drank through whatever bottle number it was that was in the man's hands, probably aiming to drink himself to sleep as he used to do before we'd started living together the first time.

I hated the sight.

"Explain it again," I told him before I could bring myself regret it. 

So he did.

Dazai told me how the boss had set it up years in advance that Oda would be killed once Mimic had been brought to Yokohama. He told me all of the intricate plans that had gone into planning that day, and I couldn't help but feel angry as they each rung true in a way that Mori's words hardly ever did.

When I asked him why the Port Mafia boss would go through all of the trouble of killing one man, he'd laughed humorlessly. 

"Mori has been scared since the day that he killed the old boss that one day I would do the same to him," Dazai explained, "he probably thought that he was just getting to the punch first."

When I'd first met the Port Mafia boss, he'd told me that he'd killed his predecessor, back then I didn't really think much of the fact that the scrawny bandaged teen standing at Mori's desk was the witness. I hadn't thought of the fact that he'd been there. Not that  I hadn't done and seen worse by that age, but growing older made you realize things that you should've when you were younger. 

"Once he saw that I'd brought in Odasaku, he'd seen it as a way to get rid of me," the younger man continued. "Even sent the pair of us to meet Ango knowing that he would fit right in with the pair of us and he could get rid of all three of us at once.

"The thing is, I had been content back then. I didn't want all the responsibility that came with being boss. I was willing to put up with what he put me through if it meant that I got to keep those that I wanted around me. But I didn't, so I left."

I didn't ask what he meant by 'what he put me through' I figured that he would tell me when he was ready, assuming that this next part went well.

"I'm sorry," I told him, hoping that he could hear the truth in my words. Something must have gotten through since the detective finally looked up at me with empty eyes. "I'm really fucking sorry. Can we go back to the house now and pretend that this never happened?"