I’m sorry, Anon. You asked for Odasaku but I only give regrets.
This is... well, I haven’t written in this format for a long time. So, I decided to use the same plot from Mirrors By My Side, considering I used this format for that fic.
Mhh, never wrote for this ship. Tbh, I thought about doing a what-if-Oda-is-alive-AU but eh. I’ll do that later. If you wanted a more intimate approach to the ship, I could re-write it? No one ever specifics what exactly they want with the relationship (which is totally okay!!) so I thought I just do subtle longing here.
8. The way cold glass fogs when you press your hand against it // Odatsu
Atsushi stares at the mirror and wonders.
Is it normal for shadows to dance around the glass? Is it normal to hear whispers when he presses his hand against the cold surface? Is it normal for the cold glass to turn warm?
Is it normal to not have a reflection?
“Atsushi-kun,” speaks his mentor, standing behind him and smiling, “is the mirror so interesting?”
No, not really, he wants to tell the other, it’s never the mirror itself.
It’s what lies beyond it, captivating him with warmth and kindness. He doesn’t tell the other about it though, too used to people not believing him.
“No,” he tells the other, turning away from the mirror to face his mentor.
“Then is it your reflection?” Dazai smiles.
It makes Atsushi wonder if he knows.
“No,” he repeats, “it’s something no one else can see.”
Atsushi glances back at the mirror.
The figure waves back at him.
Days pass before he notices the figure’s presence again.
It’s just a quick glance at his window but it has him stopping for a few minutes before he walks closer and slowly lifts his hand.
“Good evening,” the figure says back.
Then his hand touches the glass, fogging it up. The man smiles at him and Atsushi wonders.
There’s a quick pain in his chest and he resigns himself. This is how the world works sometimes.
“I got lost on my way to wherever—the afterlife maybe.”
Atsushi observes the snowflakes outside the window. It’s winter, it’s cold, it’s been two years since he got kicked out, it’s—
“At first, I was following Osamu.”
He looks at the reflection in his mirror. The reflection that isn’t his own.
“Dazai,” the man says, nodding.
Atsushi remembers something.
His smile, his words, his eyes, his movements.
Atsushi’s currently at the office.
Dazai is staring at the new mirror on his desk.
“... Does Atsushi-kun have a thing for mirrors?”
He stops writing his report.
No, but I might have something for your dead best friend, he thinks, knowing very well that he can’t say that.
“Yes,” he tells the other, smiling a bit, “they never lie.”
“I reflect,” Oda tells him.
He presses his hand against the glass, glancing at the fog building instead of the other. The cooling sensation is making him want to scream.
“Maybe I should as well,” he mumbles, watching as the man presses his hand against Atsushi’s.
Of course, he can’t felt it.
“Maybe,” the ghost agrees.
Atsushi hates the stray feelings, tugging onto his heart.
