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Chuuya places his hands behind his back, and leans his weight on it as he turns his face up towards the sky. He basks in the feeling of the sun’s warmth upon his face, and breathes in the fresh scent of spring. Tachihara’s stuck at home because his pollen allergy has hit him particularly hard that year. Chuuya has never been more thankful for his resistance towards it, though it’ll probably hit him when he gets older.
A hand covers his, and he tilts his head to the side, smiling at Dazai.
“Ah, isn’t it Chuuya ~ ”
“Hey, Dazai.”
Chuuya turns his head back up to face the blue sky. A brief sorrow crosses Dazai’s face as he gazes at him.
“Chuuya, are you happy?”
Chuuya laughs loudly. He sits up straight and folds his legs, placing his hands on each knee as he looks at Dazai.
“What’s with sentimentality? Aw, Dazai, this isn’t like you.”
Dazai snorts. “What do you know, hat rack? I’m a romantic man.”
Chuuya hums, staring at a strand of grass. He starts twiddling with it. He can feel Dazai’s stare on him, its intensity hotter than the sun, and it’s starting to feel just a tad bit uncomfortable. Chuuya eventually looks the man in the face, and offers a small smile.
“Yeah, I’m happy.”
Dazai seems satisfied with the answer. It’s his turn to stare up at the sky. A frown crosses his face as he watches a bird fly by, its shadow merging with Chuuya’s on the ground.
“Hey, Chuuya, I can’t remember. Was it sunny that day too?”
“Yeah, it was,” Chuuya replies, a wry smile on his face as he no doubt thinks back to that very day where everything changed. “I had never seen a sky so blue. It was beautiful.”
“I’ve always thought that your eyes were the bluest.”
Chuuya bursts out laughing at that. “What is that even supposed to mean? How do you even qualify bluest?”
“I told you, I’m a romantic man ~ ”
“That doesn't even make sense, shitty Dazai. You’re not romantic; you’re confusing. Heck, you’re confused.”
Dazai pouts. “So mean, Chuuya.”
“You’re the mean one,” Chuuya retorts quietly, but there’s a palpable anger in his voice that cuts Dazai.
Dazai gives him a small smile that he doesn't return. Regret appears in Dazai’s eyes, and he reaches out to grab Chuuya’s hand again.
“Chuuya, you’re not happy.”
Chuuya snorts, and snatches his hand away. “I don’t need your judgment, Dazai.”
There’s a short moment of silence.
“If you’re happy, you wouldn't come to see me,” Dazai says eventually, his voice just as soft as Chuuya’s had been yet the words cut him so deep.
Chuuya hums. “I guess you’re right.”
Chuuya’s phone rings then, and he answers it. When it ends, and he turns to Dazai.
“Ane-san wants me back at Headquarters.”
“I guess you best get going then.”
Chuuya nods. He leans forward and presses a kiss against the gravestone.
“I’ll see you around, partner.”