The Peninsula

The Fiction and Poetry Archive of Liana Mir and scribblemyname



Whenever Dazai looks wistful, Chuuya notices it’s in moments they’re talking about drinking or a certain intelligence officer in the upper echelons of the Port Mafia or a certain lowest-ranking member of the same.

It’s never for things, like innocence or goodness or family or anything others seem to allow it to cross their face for. It’s never for someone like Chuuya.

He’s met them both, considered Sakaguchi Ango competent and professional. Oda looks at Chuuya like he’s listening with everything he is or, gently, doesn’t really look at all.

Chuuya isn’t Dazai’s friend. But then, he’s always known that.


Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published.