Not to skk post on main but that scene from Dead Apple made me insane for I think a slightly different reason than most...
Ok so. Gonna be honest. When I first watched this, the ah... positioning... did not occur to me at all, other than thinking "that looks really uncomfy :/".
I was too focused on what Dazai's hand does here. He first pushes him. Ok so he was trying to stop him from getting up and losing contact due to the fog. Cool. That serves a practical purpose.
But then Chuuya falls unconscious and Dazai's hand loses that contact for a second before he lowers it back down to rest on his head.
The thing is, there's no need for him to do that. Chuuya is already in contact with Dazai's legs and his ability works through clothes. Moreover, it wasn't just a continuation of pushing him down - there's a slight delay before he sets his hand back on his head.
He sets his hand there just because. And, due to the delay/hesitation, it appears to be a conscious choice to do so as well. Chuuya's out. There's no one around to act for.
I watched that and went holy shit that's genuine, isn't it? It's such a simple gesture of fondness, maybe even a bit of protectiveness, but it means a lot from someone as emotionally closed off as Dazai.
It's... weirdly sweet. He appears to have done it after Chuuya lost all his friends (again...) during DHC in the manga adaptation too, which is... :(
And now, with seeing Dazai immediately start playing with Chuuya's hair in the latest Fifteen adaptation, it also doubles as really funny to me. He saw a chance to touch his hair again and took it. What is wrong with this man.
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Imagine if Chuuya and Dazai in the PM days had accidentally gotten themselves on wanted posters that were plastered across for all of Yokohama to see.
Wanted posters weren’t unnecessarily uncommon within the Port Mafia. Usually it was low level grunts, who had the misfortune of having an unflattering photo of themselves plastered across the city, all for the citizens to walk past and be wary of. However, it was of utmost importance that high level mafia personnels remain anonymous to ensure that they never get recognised by the public.
“I think they really captured your angry, chibi face and ugly red hair well, don’t you think?”
However, two teenage boys happened to break this rule.
“Hah?! That looks nothing like me or my hair, it looks like some sewer rat!”
“Exactly my point, it is accurate!”
Two teenage boys who happened to also be the most dangerous duo in the underworld.
“Fuck off! Yours looks like you don’t have basic hygiene and haven’t even showered in days– oh wait, that’s actually true!”
“Hmph, I’d say the rough look they’ve given me gives me charm.”
“Yeah, a charm that says stay ten feet away from this man unless you want to catch a disease.”
Both boys yell at each other on a busy street in the city, screaming obscenities and accusations of their appearance to one another only growing louder and louder by the minute.
Each of them had been horrified by their own posters when they stumbled upon them on their way back from a mission. Whoever the artist was, clearly did not have a good eye for this profession.
Chuuya rips the poster off the wall, nearly ripping it in half in the process. “That looks nothing like me, just watch” he declares and approaches the first person he sees.
“Excuse me,” the redhead stops an elderly lady, a sweet faux smile on his face, “my.. friend thinks this looks like me, would you agree?”
The older woman blinks for a few moments, dazed by the random interaction and narrows her eyes at the poster before shaking her head “Oh, no you look nothing like that person!”
Chuuya looks at Dazai with a victorious smirk, his mind already forming of how he can make the bandaged bastard suffer.
He claimed his victory too quickly it seemed.
She continues with a small chuckle, “you’re just a sweet little thing aren't you?” The elderly woman coos, “you could possibly never look that menacing!” She fondly says, pinching his cheeks.
An uncontrollable giggle bursts out behind him, the gross (heavenly) noise reverberating in Chuuya’s brain and a constant reminder of his humiliation. His cheeks grew warm and red as his own hair, and in that moment with the woman's innocent smile and his partner's evergrowing giggle, he wished the earth would swallow him whole.
“And what about me?~” Dazai muses, a splitting grin on his face, a face that knows he has won.
The woman steps closer to investigate the poster, her eyebrows narrowing in question before they rise on her forehead and she turns pale. “Oh.. oh yes that does look like you. How strange..”
Dazai’s mouth hangs open in bewilderment, and a hearty, uncontrollable laugh bounces off the walls of the city.
Hushed tears blur the redhead's vision as he watches the elderly woman apologize and swiftly make her exit at the realization of who they are.
“Y-you.. You must be mistaken! Please, I definitely look more handsome than this, just look at me!” Dazai yells out after her, despair and horror clinging onto his voice as he watches her disappear into the busy crowd.
The brunet rounds on his partner, irritation leaking in his single eye when he yells, “what are you laughing at?! You are so small she thought you were a child!”
“Shut the fuck up!” Chuuya yells, annoyance dancing through his veins before he huffs in resignation. He begins walking towards headquarters, leaving before a dazed partner before blurting, “don’t sweat it, yeah? You look good half the time anyways.” Checkmate, Chuuya thought.
“Chuu–.. Chuuya, Chuuya! What do you mean by that? Is the slug finally admitting his undying love for me?!”
“Shut. Up!”
If years later they now have those exact wanted posters in a small frame in their shared apartment, that is no one’s business to know except their own.
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