“Hey, Chibi, have you ever heard of the Legend of the Strawberry?”

“Don’t make stuff up.”

“I’m not. It’s a thing.”

“Then what is it?” A huff came from Chuuya’s parted lips.

Dazai told the tale. How strawberries were seen as a symbol of forgiveness.

And of course, Chuuya rejected it. “Moronic,” was the word he used.

Since then, Dazai wanted to prove Chuuya wrong. Which was difficult, since Chuuya recognized that Dazai was trying to pick a fight just so he could give him strawberries like the little girl did in the legend.

Chuuya was a tough rock to budge.

So Dazai decided to invoke a different method.

“I’m going out. Don’t come looking for me,” Dazai informed with a smile on his face.

“Why, whatcha gonna do?” Chuuya asked halfheartedly.

He watched Dazai do a motion with his arm as if he was tightening something around his neck.

Chuuya sighed in response. He knew exactly what that meant.

“See you ‘round, aibou,” Dazai said as he shut the door behind him.

Chuuya scoffed as he heard the door click. Come on, Dazai was full of it. He wasn’t gonna do anything. And besides, there was nothing to worry about. Every time Dazai tried, he failed.

Not that Chuuya was worried about him.

Hours passed. Dazai had not come home.
It was nothing, right? Dazai enjoyed toying with Chuuya’s emotions.

Although this was going far to toy with him, even though Dazai used death to manipulate Chuuya’s feelings in the past.

“Am I...worried about him?” Chuuya asked himself. “No, preposterous. I couldn’t be.”
He pushed it aside. Surely nothing had happened to Dazai.

Then a few more hours passed. The sky was now orange.

Dazai still had not come home.

Chuuya felt a mixture of fear and anger. How could Dazai think this was funny?

Enough was enough. Chuuya was too worried. He put his fist through the table, then got up and went out the door to find Dazai.

He tried calling Dazai. Dazai did not pick up.
“Shitty Dazai…” Chuuya muttered. “Why does he do this to me?”

Dazai was inside a thrush. He was surrounded by strawberries (and of course picked some to give to Chuuya). He heard Chuuya cursing nearby, and recognized the shoes peeking from the leaves.

Chuuya was actually worried about him.
When he knew that he was out of Chuuya’s field of vision, he slipped out of the thrush, strawberries and his in his pockets. He went back to their shared flat and sat at the table. He was confused as to why there was a hole in it, but he figured he would ask Chuuya later after he was no longer mad.

Chuuya gave up searching. It felt like he had been for hours, it very possibly could’ve been. He hated that he was so worried, and hated even more that he gave up. But he went home, closed the door behind him, and sunk to the floor.

“Hi, Chuuya,” Dazai said, fidgeting with the strawberries.

Chuuya twitched in surprise. He saw Dazai there, sitting at the table, smirking at him.
Anger instantly bubbled up inside him.

He sprung up from the floor. “Where the fuck were you?!” he exclaimed.

“A strawberry thrush,” Dazai answered.

“You...you had me so worried!!” Chuuya shouted. He stomped over to Dazai, his fist trembling. “You made me believe something happened to you!! How could you think that was funny, you sadistic bastard?!”

Chuuya swung his fist at Dazai. Dazai caught it in his own hand. “Aww, you were worried about me?” he teased.

“Shut up,” Chuuya ordered, coldly.

“I got these for you,” Dazai said, disregarding Chuuya’s command. He held up a strawberry.
“You really think strawberries will lessen my anger, idiot?” Chuuya asked rhetorically, the chill still in his throat.

“Just take one,” Dazai pleaded. He pushed it against Chuuya’s lips.

“I don’t like strawberries,” Chuuya argued.

“Please, Chuuya,” Dazai begged. He did not ordinarily have to beg for anything.

“Fine,” Chuuya conceded, “but only so you’ll shut up.”

It was sweet. Very sweet. But not too sweet. It was just right.

Chuuya hated that it was good.

“You know this won’t just buy my forgiveness, right?” he said after swallowing the strawberry.

“But it was good, wasn’t it?” Dazai insisted.

“It was shit,” Chuuya lied.

Dazai laughed, to which Chuuya turned away. There was something about Dazai’s laugh that was...melodic. It always turned Chuuya’s face red.

“Chuuya,” Dazai began after laughing, “strawberries are a sign of forgiveness. I forgive you.”

“For what?” Chuuya scoffed.

“For punching me around,” Dazai confessed.

Chuuya had nothing to say in response.

“So...do you forgive me, too?” Dazai asked.

“No,” Chuuya answered far too quickly.

Dazai laughed again. He stood up and wrapped his arms around his partner.

“That’s alright, aibou,” he said, “you don’t have to forgive me if you don’t want to. Just remember that I forgive you.”

Chuuya could not help but hug back. “Stop making me feel things, you bastard,” he said, burying his face in Dazai’s neck (he had to stand on his toes to reach, hoping Dazai would not say anything about it. If he did, he would get a kick to the shin).

Dazai laughed. “I love you too, Chuuya.”