Archive of Our Own

Kunikida Doppo sat in his dimly lit apartment, the golden glow of a single lamp casting shadows over the carefully written notes sprawled on the table. His journal, a tome of strict schedules and immovable ideals, lay open before him.

But tonight, for the first time in years, he couldn’t bring himself to write in it.

His mind was a storm, tossing between logic and emotion. His ideal self was screaming at him to stop—to remember the plans he'd laid out so meticulously. Five years of dating. Five years before the ultimate commitment. It was the only rational way to ensure a solid, responsible foundation for marriage.

But then there was Dazai.

Unpredictable, chaotic, brilliant Dazai. The man who turned Kunikida’s life upside down the moment they met. Who mocked his ideals even as he brought them into sharper focus. The man Kunikida had fallen for, slowly and irrevocably, despite every protest from his rational mind.

It terrified him. 

He leaned back in his chair, eyes scanning the ring box sitting on the table. Simple. Elegant. Just like the love he felt for Dazai—pure and steady amidst the storm that was their lives.

"Five years," Kunikida whispered to himself, fingers brushing the leather box. "That was the plan."

Five years—his rule for a proper courtship, a structured timeline for love to grow steadily and logically before committing to marriage. It was a rule he’d clung to, as steadfast as the rest of his ideals. 

But five years was an eternity with someone like Dazai. Someone who danced on the edge of life and death, whose very existence was a challenge to fate. Kunikida knew now, deep in his heart, that no amount of waiting would make him more certain. It was Dazai. It had always been Dazai. He didn’t need five years to confirm what he already knew.

He closed the journal, pushing it aside and grabbed his coat in a hurry, heading for the door and pulling it shut behind him, he knew where Dazai would be.

By the time Kunikida reached the riverbank, the evening sky had darkened into a velvety black. The moon hung low, its pale light reflecting off the rippling water. There, lying lazily on the grass, was Dazai. His brown coat was splayed out around him, and his head rested on one arm, the other hand idly tossing pebbles into the river.

As if sensing his presence, Dazai turned his head. His lips curved into a teasing smile, the kind that always managed to get under Kunikida’s skin. “Ah, Kunikida-kun! What a surprise. Couldn’t resist my charm, could you?”

Kunikida sighed, his lips twitching despite himself. “Must you always talk nonsense, Dazai?”

“Nonsense?” Dazai echoed, sitting up and propping his chin on his hand. “On the contrary, I speak only the truth. So, what brings the great Kunikida Doppo out here at this hour? Did you come to scold me for something I haven’t done yet?”

“I came to talk,” Kunikida said simply, lowering himself to the grass beside him. The damp earth pressed coolly against his palms, grounding him.

“Talk, huh?” Dazai stretched, his movements languid and unhurried. “Should I be worried?”

“Dazai…” Kunikida hesitated. The words felt heavy in his throat, but he forced himself to speak. “Do you remember when we first met?”

Dazai’s lips quirked. “How could I forget? You practically tried to throttle me for my ‘unprofessional behavior.’”

Kunikida groaned, the memory still a sore spot. “You were being insufferable.”

“And yet, here you are.” Dazai’s smile softened, his teasing tone giving way to something more sincere. “What’s this really about, Kuni?”

Kunikida felt a familiar warmth bloom in his chest at the nickname, one Dazai only ever used when they were alone. He turned his gaze to the river, hoping the soft murmur of the water would steady him. “You shouldn’t call me that,” he murmured, but the protest lacked any real conviction, his voice quieter than the rippling current.

Dazai’s smile grew, a touch of mischief returning to his eyes. “But it suits you,” he said softly, leaning ever so slightly closer. “Besides, I think you like it more than you let on.”

Kunikida sighed, a faint flush creeping up his neck. He risked a glance at Dazai, his expression a mix of irritation and something far softer. “You’re insufferable.”

“And you love me that way,” Dazai quipped, his voice teasing yet gentle.

Kunikida hesitated, his heart pounding as he held Dazai’s gaze. “I do,” he admitted quietly, the words carrying a weight that neither of them could ignore.

For a moment, the only sound was the river, its gentle murmur filling the silence. Kunikida stared out at the water, gathering his thoughts.

“I’ve been thinking about my ideals,” he said at last, his voice steady despite the storm inside him.

“Ah, the sacred ideals,” Dazai said with mock reverence. “What about them?”

“They’ve always guided me,” Kunikida continued, ignoring Dazai’s interruption. “They’ve been my foundation, my way of ensuring that I live a meaningful and responsible life. And for the longest time, I believed that they were unshakable.”

Dazai tilted his head, his curiosity piqued. “But?”

“But then you came along,” Kunikida said, turning to meet Dazai’s gaze. “And you threw everything into chaos.”

Dazai blinked, his usual smirk faltering.

“You’re reckless, infuriating, and completely unpredictable,” Kunikida said, his tone firm but laced with an undeniable affection. “You challenge me at every turn, mock my ideals, and drive me to the brink of madness. And yet…” He exhaled deeply. “And yet, I can’t imagine my life without you. I don’t want to.”

Dazai’s eyes widened, a rare moment of vulnerability flashing across his face. He opened his mouth to speak, but Kunikida raised a hand, cutting him off gently.

“I had a plan,” Kunikida continued. “Five years of dating before marriage. It was logical, practical. But I’ve realized something. Life isn’t logical, and love doesn’t wait for perfect timing. With you, every moment feels uncertain, but one thing I am certain of is this: I want to spend the rest of my life with you.”

He reached into his pocket, pulling out the ring box. The leather felt cool against his palm as he opened it, revealing the silver band inside.

“Dazai,” Kunikida said, his voice unwavering despite the rapid beat of his heart. “Will you marry me?”

The words hung in the air, heavier than anything Kunikida had ever spoken. For a long moment, Dazai said nothing. His gaze flickered between the ring in Kunikida’s trembling hand and the face of the man kneeling before him, as though he was trying to convince himself this wasn’t some elaborate trick of his mind.

“You’re serious,” Dazai finally said, his voice barely above a whisper, as if speaking too loudly might shatter the moment.

“Of course I’m serious,” Kunikida replied, his voice firm but his heart racing. “I’ve never been more serious about anything in my life.”

Dazai stared at him, his eyes wide and unguarded, emotions swirling just beneath the surface. Then, to Kunikida’s surprise, he laughed. It wasn’t his usual mischievous, theatrical laugh. No, it was soft, shaky, and filled with something raw—disbelief, joy, and the faintest edge of fear.

“You really are something, Kunikida-kun,” Dazai said, his voice breaking slightly as his lips curved into a small, genuine smile. “You’d throw away your precious ideals for me?”

“I’m not throwing them away,” Kunikida said, his voice softer now. He took a steadying breath and looked Dazai straight in the eyes. “I’m choosing what matters most. And that’s you. It’s always been you.”

For a moment, Dazai looked like he might cry. His fingers trembled as he reached out, brushing against the edge of the ring, as if testing to see if it was real. His smile softened, and the bravado that usually shielded him from the world melted away.

“You’re such an idiot,” Dazai murmured, his voice laced with affection and something deeper, something Kunikida had long hoped to see. “But you’re my idiot.”

Kunikida’s breath caught. “Is that a yes?” he asked, his voice cracking slightly as hope and fear collided in his chest.

Dazai met his gaze, steady now, his eyes shimmering with a rare vulnerability. “Yes,” he said softly, his voice carrying the weight of every unspoken emotion between them. “I’ll marry you.”

Relief washed over Kunikida in waves, leaving him almost dizzy. He took Dazai’s hand with care, sliding the ring onto his finger. It fit perfectly, as though it had always belonged there, much like how Dazai had somehow fit into his life in the most unexpected yet undeniable way.

Dazai watched the ring on his finger, a rare, quiet smile gracing his lips. He leaned in, their foreheads pressing together, his voice barely a whisper. “You know, this means I’ll have to make you break more of your rules, don’t you?”

Kunikida chuckled, the sound light and free, his heart fuller than it had ever been. “Don’t push your luck, Dazai.”

But as Dazai closed the small space between them, their lips meeting in a kiss under the gentle glow of the moonlight, Kunikida couldn’t help but think that for Dazai, he’d be willing to break every rule he’d ever made. Because some things—some people—were worth it.