expiationlogs | (after event chill out lil mingle) let's understand it

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(after event chill out lil mingle) let's understand it

(cw depression)

(he hasn't exactly been doing great - much to the opposite. he spent the week in bed, he hasn't taken care of himself whatsoever, and he's exhausted. either way, it hardly matters how he feels, does it ever?

so. let's go. a text message arrives to everyone's charms and tablets, and it reads:)

this is, you guessed it, osamu dazai. it's been a week since that stupid maze, so here is what we have:

1. i need copious amounts of alcohol and food. i'll bring some to the beach in 30, i suggest we all do the same.
2. i'd like to hear what your experiences were. it's important for data building - we have a few detectives in this place, some smartpants, and some go-getters. we need to take advantage of our only resource, which is ourselves. meet me at the beach, or send me anonymously. i don't care about your shit per se.

see you, or don't see you.

many words that mean absolutely nothing here,
dazai.

(to those that come to the beach, they'll see several cocktail possibilities laid in front of dazai, as well as a good number of the food they serve in lupin - mixed nuts, pistachio, cheese tables, chocolate, dried figs, potato chips, chicken snacks, boiled sausage, asparagus with sauces, and dried fruit. a bonfire warms his hands in the chilly breeze of the night - this feels awfully needed.)

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Fine. What are you running from, kiddo?

(RIGHT FOR THE JUGULAR.)

[His eyes glaze over for a minute and he considers the question. He respects Dazai, so he wants to answer, and answer sincerely, but... What is he running from?]

[He changes his mind and tosses a shot of a coffee liqueur into his cup, swirling it and taking a solid swig. It burns, but it helps him find his tongue.] Myself, I think, for as vague of an answer as that is.

More valid than you think. We all do this to some extent.

(some more, some less. being a person is a complicated ordeal, one that takes a lot of courage, a lot of introspection - or the hiding so one doesn't have to do that last one.)

What about you?

[His expression pinches and he shakes his head.]

I. Learned a lot about myself in the maze, and I'm kind of my own worst enemy, I think.

Are you being self-destructive, my dear kiddo? I think your taste in men sucks, but other than that, I think you're great.

[He chuckles, the sound rounding off into a cough, but once he gets his breathing back under control he polishes off his drink in another chugged swig.]

That's... kind of the problem. I have a really hard time with self-worth when it's not directly attached to how useful I am to others.

Oh. Well. I can fix that, but you will not like it.

(at least he's telling him instead of doing it.)

[He gives him a bland frown of a look, but his eyebrows suggest he wants to be told anyway.]

Oh? I'll never tell you. When kiddos like you end up with me, it's potential that I see, and what I work with, that's how I end up with mentees. What I see on you is something rather beautiful, but it hardly matters if I say it, it has to be you who sees it. I can make you see it, but it's never easy!

[He rolls his eyes slightly, but smiles anyway.]

I made that drink for you to drink, by the way, not just sit in your hand and look pretty. [A beat.] ...thanks, though. I don't know why so many people think I'm so great, but... It really means a lot.

First of all! My hands are very pretty, and you have no idea how magical they are!

(sex comment, or a real comment, who knows? but he'll lift his drink before a sip. ah, it's good, but the conversation is so distracting!)

Woa-- I never said 'so great'. I said 'something beautiful'. You kiddos all look to me like little rocks! Gotta be polished! You have something good in you, but as long as you think like that for yourself, about yourself, you'll still be raw.

[If his eyelashes are a little bit damp when he smiles enough that his eyes crease nearly closed, don't worry about it.]

[Also keep your magical pretty hands out of this conversation, Dazai, Akira would love to know exactly how magical they are but he's got wretched taste in boys and his preferred boy would have a catatonic meltdown and break up with him the instant he learned of such a betrayal. Despite Akira betraying him in any way being quite ironic, actually.]

Y'said great the first time, but I did add the "so". [He reaches up to fiddle with the centermost lock of his curls.] ...I definitely feel raw, most of the time.

(oh, important to see. it's fine to make whatever expression he wants, but he sees the tears, and if he wants to cry, he can cry. so many of the teens have cried on him, because for some reason-- he brings that out. his not-currently-magical-hand wrap around the boy's wrist, so they can move somewhere more private. a feeling tells him there's nothing akira would like than to show this part of him to everyone. come on, kid. somewhere more private.)

[He sucks in a breath at the contact, but follows easily, appreciating the gesture for what it is. He doesn't want to cry-- he's cried so much since this wretched maze showed him things he didn't want to see, about himself and about everyone he cares about, he's sick to death of crying. But it just keeps fucking happening, and he understands Dazai's gesture to get him away from prying eyes, and appreciates it even as he slows and pulls on his wrist where Dazai holds it, shuffling to stand behind him and put his head against the back of his shoulder.]

I appreciate you, Dazai.

(he's exhausted, dazai. the maze wasn't easy for him, but this is planting seeds for akira's journey. he's not helping dazai, he's allowing himself to be helped, and for someone with self-image issues, isn't that huge? besides, he knows it's just akira's thoughts once dazai's hands are on him, thanks to his ability.

they're far enough, so dazai can just open his arms, a little smile on his face, like he's perpetually in a good mood!)

I'm sure! Now come here. It's fine to feel whatever you feel. What's not fine is to feel like you don't deserve to show it!

[He laughs, and the sound cracks, first into a cough and then something sour and sad and he shakes his head, trying to laugh again and bringing both his hands to his face. He flinches when he realizes he's not wearing his glasses, and just presses both his palms over his eyes, sucking in a breath and holding it.]

It's less that I don't think I deserve to show it and more that I'm really, really tired of being this fragile about everything. This week sucked, I want a do-over.

(a pet pet for akira, encouragement the best way he can. for someone who has done this many times, he's still learning.)

It's more strength than you think. Ah, but I too would like a do-over! Really wish you hadn't seen what you did! Come on, kiddo. You have 5 minutes to tell me everything you feel, and then we can sit in silence to let it process.

[He's doing absolutely fine for a single(?) father of so many wayward teenagers, suddenly, especially when so many of them have almost as many problems as he does.]

You don't-- [He chokes, pulls his hands down to cover his whole face, and breathes raggedly into them for about eight seconds before dropping them forcibly to his sides. His face is a damn mess, he's gotta be one of the world's ugliest pretty criers, somehow both at once. His teeth are bared and his shoulders are bunched up near his ears, and big fat stupid tears glob up in the corners of his eyes and drip down to his chin.] --you don't need this, you've got so much more to worry about than the stupid neuroses of a kid. [He maybe spits the word kid with a bit more force than necessary-- it doesn't actually bother him that Dazai calls him kiddo. But boy, does he feel like one right now.]

(this is not so different from scott bawling on him, and truth be told, this is his choice. he's made several mistakes when he started mentoring, akutagawa is obsessed with him because he puts his self-worth on dazai - because dazai raised him to, belittling, abusing, hitting and shooting at, and it didn't help the long term. he created some perfect for the mafia, but not for him, not dor anywhere else.

the emphasis on the last word actually makes dazai laugh. he's patient, soft when he moves the boy's hair away from his face, index finger in a hook to wipe some tears away.)

Last I checked? I took you. I asked you to talk to me. I don't need it, but I want it. Is that okay?

[He makes one of those awful chest-trapped sounds children make when they're trying really hard not to cry, and he's fully aware of just how childish the whole display is, but something about Dazai's motion, about the simplicity of his question, makes it okay.]

[He struggles anyway, going between gasps and held breaths, half-coughs and trapped sounds, before he finally just settles to stand there and leak, letting his shoulders drop and the fight to go out of him.] ...I'm scared I don't have a personality outside of what I reflect for the people around me. I don't-- I don't know how to be a person, I don't know who Akira Kurusu is.

Do you wanna know the beauty of that sentence?

(he's still so calm, smiling, attempting to dry the salt when they gather on the boy's jaw.)

The beauty is, Akira-kun...! You get to figure it out. If it helps you? My ability is what it is for a good reason, 'No Longer Human'. I don't know how to be a person, too. I'm figuring it out. This is what life is. Reinventing, failing, and reinventing again. You're not alone, you know! You get to learn who you are on the go, none of us are fixed beings.

[He makes another wordless, ugly sound, sinking to crouch so he can fold himself up into his knees, draping his arms up over the back of his head.]

It feels like I should have at least some kind of idea, at eighteen.

And you have around a good at least 50 years to consider, and you won't be the same for all that time either.

(he's gonna sit in front of the boy, to keep eye to eye.)

[He's just gonna settle there for a bit, leaking from his face and hitching every so often, eventually moving one arm to reach toward Dazai, looking at his feet through his own knees.]

I don't usually do this, 'm sorry.

If you apologize one more time, I'm going to scold you. It's fine to cry.

(his thumb caresses the arm that reaches for him, attempting to have 'no longer human' soothe as much as the touch itself.)

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