The halls are silent and empty, a stark contrast to the usual crowded halls full of chatter. Long shadows were casted from the light candles provided. The only light in the darkened hallways.
Well. It was almost empty and silent.
Blaise’s footsteps echoed in a ‘pitter-patter’ noise. Taping would be a better word. Normally, Blaise wouldn’t be out this late. He wouldn’t be awake either. But whatever you want to call it, he felt something in his gut. A heavy, almost instinctive feeling. Something was wrong. And when that happened, it usually meant the source was a certain brunette boy.
Osamu Dazai. The Demon Student. The Mafia Executive. A killer. A genius. A boss. A friend.
Dazai.
Earlier today, Dazai had mentioned that he found a perch on one of Hogwarts pillars that would be perfect for suicide. (That had sent Hermione into a frenzy, saying that its not funny to joke about suicide. Dazai had just giggled and the conversation moved on. Blaise didn’t forget. He doesn’t usually forget. Especially when it comes to Dazai.) So Blaise was looking for that, because it was the most reasonable option since Dazai wasn’t in the gang room.
He opened the door with a creak. The room was dark, as expected. And Blaise listened for anything since he couldn’t see. Nothing. He frowned and was about to close the door when his eyes picked up on faint breathing. Ah, finally. Blaise squinted his eyes when he shut the door behind him, one hand out to feel his surroundings. There were stairs that he climbed, leading to the top.
Once Blaise got to the top, it was lighter. He could see better. The full moon’s light shining down, painting the room with its beams. Painting Dazai’s dark eyes with light. Light that is painfully fake whenever it appears. Dazai turned around, seeing that it was Blaise. He offered a cheeky smile. A common one of Dazai.
“Blaise!” Dazai happily smiled. “Did you come out looking for little old me?”
Blaise hummed and sat next to Dazai. “Yes.”
Dazai nods before looking back at the night sky. Blaise does the same. The silence is comfortable, like a warm candle in a cold winter. Or a quiet library.
“The moon is beautiful tonight, isn’t it?” Dazai asks, not taking his eyes off the moon.
Blaise nods. “The stars too.”
The silence returns. Yet Blaise feels that more is going to be said. More should be said. More could be said. (Blaise feels like that is becoming more common as the days pass.)
“What are you doing out so late, boss?” Blaise decides to ask.
Dazai looks over at him, grinning and simply saying, “Planning!”
“Planning your next suicide?”
“....ah, Blaise knows me too well.”
‘Too well’. That’s different from ‘so well’. It's a small word change. But that doesn’t mean it's any less impactful. The heavy feeling Blaise has suddenly becomes a bit more prominent. “Who’s going to run the gang without their boss?”
“My loyal second in command,” Dazai states, swinging his legs off the balcony in a carefree way. A childish way that Dazai acts so commonly. (Yet Blaise knows Dazai is too mature under the act.)
Blaise puts his hand on top of Dazai’s. Dazai doesn’t pull away. “Everyone likes you as a boss the best. So let's keep it that way.”
At the start of Blaise’s Hogwarts journey, he never would have expected even a shimmer of things that have happened. The secrets revealed, the events that have happened, especially this year, anything. But Blaise wouldn’t change any of it if he was offered the chance.
Dazai looks at Blaise for a while before dramatically sighing, a pout on his lips. “Blaise is so mean.”
“The meanest,” Blaise hums, “Come on, Dazai. I want you to give me homework answers.”
Blaise had already done the homework answers hours ago.
“If Blaise insists!” Dazai chirps, turning around on the balcony in such a carefree way that Blaise has to stop himself from putting a hand on his back so he won’t fall. (Accidently or on purpose.)
Blaise gets off the balcony too. Only then does Blaise’s and Dazai’s hands part.
Dazai sat down on the balcony, the old wood creaking. The moon stood in the sky proudly and brightly, the stars around it a loyal companion. It wasn’t a cloudy or windy night either, the air being warm and still. He’s alone. As lonely as whenever the sun was in the sky, no stars surrounding it like the moon.
Dazai lets his mask drop.
Suicide here would be so, so easy. One little movement, and off Dazai falls. It's a long way down, the impact might break his skull, and his brain will stain the grass below. No one would be able to catch him. And with Pomfrey petrified, who would heal him? Or try to. Mori wasn’t here either to do anything about it.
Sigh. If only that was the case. Dazai had plans he had to complete before he could die! It was sad, really. He has to kill the basilisk, mess with Riddle some more, and finish his schemes. Who else was going to do it? Lockhart? As if. Besides, Dazai couldn’t let that man have the last laugh. (I mean, come on. Dazai losing to Lockhart? Absolutely not!)
But, this would be a good spot for in the future. Mori would be absolutely pissed if Dazai killed himself before summer break. And Dazai likes that, not that he’ll be alive to be punished too, so he’ll have to do that sometime before summer break.
…..
Wait, what if he becomes a ghost? That mere thought revolts him. To try and kill himself only to be alive. Forever too! Geez, he might have to wait until he’s back in the Port Mafia so he could get his hands on all of Mori’s medical things. And then he can try and die. (It never works. Why does it never work?)
Dazai rubs his eye, before looking down at his hands. So coated and tainted. So inhuman.
Creak.
Ah, that must be Blaise. He wondered when the boy would come. Blaise and his feelings. How gross! (Dazai pushes down the voice that says Dazai likes being around Blaise, that it makes him happy. Attachments like that have no place in the Port Mafia.) Dazai lets his hands fall to his lap as he breathes a bit louder so that Blaise can hear him. He does. Dazai hears the door shut, and he lets out a small sigh.
The mask goes back on.