[The way he says that quietly with his gaze focused on the glass in his hand, he's clearly saying something to himself. Or, more accurately, repeating words he has heard in the past. But Oda can still hear them if he's listening closely enough.]
[ of course oda hears those words and can't help but feel a little uncomfortable by it. almost as if dazai was seeing through his mind and even his very soul, somehow aware of all the things that make him "oda", even right down to how desperate he is to redeem himself.
oda nods. ]
Something like that. It's a lifestyle I've been trying to follow for a while now.
I don't think I need to be a detective to know who this "friend" is.
[ he takes another sip of his drink before setting it down, his back still pressed against the door. ]
I'm not him. I don't know you and we're not friends, although both you and-- [ he hesitates, still trying to wrap his head around the dazai of the oh so similar, yet so different world that atsushi described. ] and the other you acted like I was. But if I'm as similar to that "Odasaku" as what you two thought, then...I think he'd be disappointed.
[He seems to accept it this time, though. There isn't a big reaction like there was in public. Instead there's barely a pause before he speaks, and his tone stays even.]
You're right, he would be. I suppose it's a good thing he's not here to see any of this.
[ oda looks down at the remainder of his drink, feeling both exhausted and somewhat sick. even if the whiskey isn't poisoned, the atmosphere, their very conversation sure is.
he feels oddly helpless, and he doesn't like it.
but he nods, regardless. ]
Then I'll just try it again tomorrow. Until you understand what I mean.
You really make no sense. [ he downs the rest of the drink, setting the glass on a nearby table, while still looking visibly troubled by all of this. ] I'll be here tomorrow. Get some sleep.
[ without really waiting for dazai to say anything oda leaves the room, closing the door behind him. ]
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[The way he says that quietly with his gaze focused on the glass in his hand, he's clearly saying something to himself. Or, more accurately, repeating words he has heard in the past. But Oda can still hear them if he's listening closely enough.]
no subject
[ of course oda hears those words and can't help but feel a little uncomfortable by it. almost as if dazai was seeing through his mind and even his very soul, somehow aware of all the things that make him "oda", even right down to how desperate he is to redeem himself.
oda nods. ]
Something like that. It's a lifestyle I've been trying to follow for a while now.
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THEY'RE BFFS
DAZAI MIGHT AS WELL BE WEARING HALF OF THAT CHARM BRACELET]
It sounds like something a friend of mine would say, which is why I thought of it.
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[ he takes another sip of his drink before setting it down, his back still pressed against the door. ]
I'm not him. I don't know you and we're not friends, although both you and-- [ he hesitates, still trying to wrap his head around the dazai of the oh so similar, yet so different world that atsushi described. ] and the other you acted like I was. But if I'm as similar to that "Odasaku" as what you two thought, then...I think he'd be disappointed.
no subject
[He seems to accept it this time, though. There isn't a big reaction like there was in public. Instead there's barely a pause before he speaks, and his tone stays even.]
You're right, he would be. I suppose it's a good thing he's not here to see any of this.
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[ oda thinks about it for a moment, taking in dazai's reaction--or rather, the lack thereof--with an equally even expression.
his chest aches slightly, and he doesn't know why. ]
You don't have to play this role. There must be other options--something that he'd be more proud of.
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[If he can focus less on his feelings and more on what needs to be done, then maybe he can forget about all the pain he feels.]
The game needs a host, after all. Pride has little to do with it. We all have our roles to play here, and I will play mine dutifully.
no subject
[ oda looks down at the remainder of his drink, feeling both exhausted and somewhat sick. even if the whiskey isn't poisoned, the atmosphere, their very conversation sure is.
he feels oddly helpless, and he doesn't like it.
but he nods, regardless. ]
Then I'll just try it again tomorrow. Until you understand what I mean.
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[The implication being that he'll do it so Oda keeps coming back to talk to him. Negative attention is better than no attention, he supposes.]
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You really make no sense. [ he downs the rest of the drink, setting the glass on a nearby table, while still looking visibly troubled by all of this. ] I'll be here tomorrow. Get some sleep.
[ without really waiting for dazai to say anything oda leaves the room, closing the door behind him. ]