The Peninsula

The Fiction and Poetry Archive of Liana Mir and scribblemyname




The refrain that binds them together, that tears them apart.

Live. You’re you.

People live to save themselves.

You started to want to live.

Born together in a day, in a single battle, reborn in another, in a single night.

Why couldn’t you live with me? Chuuya almost wonders. They’d been equals. They’d never made each other dependent. They’d never given the other unease and betrayal. Why, Dazai?

Not that he wanted him close, wanted him near, not that he wants him close now. But he looks in the eyes of his one-time partner grimly, the old words hanging, “We should just give up and die.” So cheerful, so fascinated still by the end of life. And yet, this closeness to death, wasn’t that Dazai’s way of living? Why would he go elsewhere to find it?

“Whenever you say something like that, like I really had a choice.”

You’re not going to die here.